#truly would not work as a campaign & would be better as a book but young pok young kalina young sklonda… i need to know EVERYTHINGGG

[twinstxrs]

there’s probably something deeply wrong with me because every time i see someone react to the pok gukgak interrogation scene it’s like “oh no oh my god is riz’s dad a bad guy?” when the first time i saw that scene my only thought was “oh my god is riz’s dad HOT??”

[mariacallous]

Democrats and liberal pundits are already trying to figure out how the Trump campaign not only bested Kamala Harris in the “Blue Wall” states of the Midwest and the Rust Belt, but gained on her even in areas that should have been safe for a Democrat. Almost everywhere, Donald Trump expanded his coalition, and this time, unlike in 2016, he didn’t have to thread the needle of the Electoral College to win: He can claim the legitimacy of winning the popular vote.

Trump’s opponents are now muttering about the choice of Tim Walz, the influence of the Russians, the role of the right-wing media, and whether President Joe Biden should not have stepped aside in favor of Harris. Even the old saw about “economic anxiety” is making a comeback.

These explanations all have some merit, but mostly, they miss the point. Yes, some voters still stubbornly believe that presidents magically control the price of basic goods. Others have genuine concerns about immigration and gave in to Trump’s booming call of fascism and nativism. And some of them were just never going to vote for a woman, much less a Black woman.

But in the end, a majority of American voters chose Trump because they wanted what he was selling: a nonstop reality show of rage and resentment. Some Democrats, still gripped by the lure of wonkery, continue to scratch their heads over which policy proposals might have unlocked more votes, but that was always a mug’s game. Trump voters never cared about policies, and he rarely gave them any. (Choosing to be eaten by a shark rather than electrocuted might be a personal preference, but it’s not a policy.) His rallies involved long rants about the way he’s been treated, like a giant therapy session or a huge family gathering around a bellowing, impaired grandpa.

Back in 2021, I wrote a book about the rise of “illiberal populism,” the self-destructive tendency in some nations that leads people to participate in democratic institutions such as voting while being hostile to democracy itself, casting ballots primarily to punish other people and to curtail everyone’s rights—even their own. These movements are sometimes led by fantastically wealthy faux populists who hoodwink gullible voters by promising to solve a litany of problems that always seem to involve money, immigrants, and minorities. The appeals from these charlatans resonate most not among the very poor, but among a bored, relatively well-off middle class, usually those who are deeply uncomfortable with racial and demographic changes in their own countries.

And so it came to pass: Last night, a gaggle of millionaires and billionaires grinned and applauded for Trump. They were part of an alliance with the very people another Trump term would hurt—the young, minorities, and working families among them.

Trump, as he has shown repeatedly over the years, couldn’t care less about any of these groups. He ran for office to seize control of the apparatus of government and to evade judicial accountability for his previous actions as president. Once he is safe, he will embark on the other project he seems to truly care about: the destruction of the rule of law and any other impediments to enlarging his power.

Americans who wish to stop Trump in this assault on the American constitutional order, then, should get it out of their heads that this election could have been won if only a better candidate had made a better pitch to a few thousand people in Pennsylvania. Biden, too old and tired to mount a proper campaign, likely would have lost worse than Harris; more to the point, there was nothing even a more invigorated Biden or a less, you know, female alternative could have offered. Racial grievances, dissatisfaction with life’s travails (including substance addiction and lack of education), and resentment toward the villainous elites in faraway cities cannot be placated by housing policy or interest-rate cuts.

No candidate can reason about facts and policies with voters who have no real interest in such things. They like the promises of social revenge that flow from Trump, the tough-guy rhetoric, the simplistic “I will fix it” solutions. And he’s interesting to them, because he supports and encourages their conspiracist beliefs. (I knew Harris was in trouble when I was in Pennsylvania last week for an event and a fairly well-off business owner, who was an ardent Trump supporter, told me that Michelle Obama had conspired with the Canadians to change the state’s vote tally in 2020. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the conversation.)

As Jonathan Last, editor of The Bulwark, put it in a social-media post last night: The election went the way it did “because America wanted Trump. That’s it. People reaching to construct [policy] alibis for the public because they don’t want to grapple with this are whistling past the graveyard.” Last worries that we might now be in a transition to authoritarianism of the kind Russia went through in the 1990s, but I visited Russia often in those days, and much of the Russian democratic implosion was driven by genuinely brutal economic conditions and the rapid collapse of basic public services. Americans have done this to themselves during a time of peace, prosperity, and astonishingly high living standards. An affluent society that thinks it is living in a hellscape is ripe for gulling by dictators who are willing to play along with such delusions.

The bright spot in all this is that Trump and his coterie must now govern. The last time around, Trump was surrounded by a small group of moderately competent people, and these adults basically put baby bumpers and pool noodles on all the sharp edges of government. This time, Trump will rule with greater power but fewer excuses, and he—and his voters—will have to own the messes and outrages he is already planning to create.

Those voters expect that Trump will hurt others and not them. They will likely be unpleasantly surprised, much as they were in Trump’s first term. (He was, after all, voted out of office for a reason.) For the moment, some number of them have memory-holed that experience and are pretending that his vicious attacks on other Americans are just so much hot air.

Trump, unfortunately, means most of what he says. In this election, he has triggered the unfocused ire and unfounded grievances of millions of voters. Soon we will learn whether he can still trigger their decency—if there is any to be found.

[porterdavis]

A great long read from Tom Nichols of The Atlantic:

“Democrats and liberal pundits are already trying to figure out how the Trump campaign not only bested Kamala Harris in the “Blue Wall” states of the Midwest and the Rust Belt, but gained on her even in areas that should have been safe for a Democrat. Almost everywhere, Donald Trump expanded his coalition, and this time, unlike in 2016, he didn’t have to thread the needle of the Electoral College to win: He can claim the legitimacy of winning the popular vote.

Trump’s opponents are now muttering about the choice of Tim Walz, the influence of the Russians, the role of the right-wing media, and whether President Joe Biden should not have stepped aside in favor of Harris. Even the old saw about “economic anxiety” is making a comeback.

These explanations all have some merit, but mostly, they miss the point. Yes, some voters still stubbornly believe that presidents magically control the price of basic goods. Others have genuine concerns about immigration and gave in to Trump’s booming call of fascism and nativism. And some of them were just never going to vote for a woman, much less a Black woman.

But in the end, a majority of American voters chose Trump because they wanted what he was selling: a nonstop reality show of rage and resentment. Some Democrats, still gripped by the lure of wonkery, continue to scratch their heads over which policy proposals might have unlocked more votes, but that was always a mug’s game. Trump voters never cared about policies, and he rarely gave them any. (Choosing to be eaten by a shark rather than electrocuted might be a personal preference, but it’s not a policy.) His rallies involved long rants about the way he’s been treated, like a giant therapy session or a huge family gathering around a bellowing, impaired grandpa.

Back in 2021, I wrote a book about the rise of “illiberal populism,” the self-destructive tendency in some nations that leads people to participate in democratic institutions such as voting while being hostile to democracy itself, casting ballots primarily to punish other people and to curtail everyone’s rights—even their own. These movements are sometimes led by fantastically wealthy faux populists who hoodwink gullible voters by promising to solve a litany of problems that always seem to involve money, immigrants, and minorities. The appeals from these charlatans resonate most not among the very poor, but among a bored, relatively well-off middle class, usually those who are deeply uncomfortable with racial and demographic changes in their own countries.

And so it came to pass: Last night, a gaggle of millionaires and billionaires grinned and applauded for Trump. They were part of an alliance with the very people another Trump term would hurt—the young, minorities, and working families among them.

Trump, as he has shown repeatedly over the years, couldn’t care less about any of these groups. He ran for office to seize control of the apparatus of government and to evade judicial accountability for his previous actions as president. Once he is safe, he will embark on the other project he seems to truly care about: the destruction of the rule of law and any other impediments to enlarging his power.

Americans who wish to stop Trump in this assault on the American constitutional order, then, should get it out of their heads that this election could have been won if only a better candidate had made a better pitch to a few thousand people in Pennsylvania. Biden, too old and tired to mount a proper campaign, likely would have lost worse than Harris; more to the point, there was nothing even a more invigorated Biden or a less, you know, female alternative could have offered. Racial grievances, dissatisfaction with life’s travails (including substance addiction and lack of education), and resentment toward the villainous elites in faraway cities cannot be placated by housing policy or interest-rate cuts.

No candidate can reason about facts and policies with voters who have no real interest in such things. They like the promises of social revenge that flow from Trump, the tough-guy rhetoric, the simplistic “I will fix it” solutions. And he’s interesting to them, because he supports and encourages their conspiracist beliefs. (I knew Harris was in trouble when I was in Pennsylvania last week for an event and a fairly well-off business owner, who was an ardent Trump supporter, told me that Michelle Obama had conspired with the Canadians to change the state’s vote tally in 2020. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the conversation.)

As Jonathan Last, editor of The Bulwark, put it in a social-media post last night: The election went the way it did “because America wanted Trump. That’s it. People reaching to construct [policy] alibis for the public because they don’t want to grapple with this are whistling past the graveyard.” Last worries that we might now be in a transition to authoritarianism of the kind Russia went through in the 1990s, but I visited Russia often in those days, and much of the Russian democratic implosion was driven by genuinely brutal economic conditions and the rapid collapse of basic public services. Americans have done this to themselves during a time of peace, prosperity, and astonishingly high living standards. An affluent society that thinks it is living in a hellscape is ripe for gulling by dictators who are willing to play along with such delusions.

The bright spot in all this is that Trump and his coterie must now govern. The last time around, Trump was surrounded by a small group of moderately competent people, and these adults basically put baby bumpers and pool noodles on all the sharp edges of government. This time, Trump will rule with greater power but fewer excuses, and he—and his voters—will have to own the messes and outrages he is already planning to create.

Those voters expect that Trump will hurt others and not them. They will likely be unpleasantly surprised, much as they were in Trump’s first term. (He was, after all, voted out of office for a reason.) For the moment, some number of them have memory-holed that experience and are pretending that his vicious attacks on other Americans are just so much hot air.

Trump, unfortunately, means most of what he says. In this election, he has triggered the unfocused ire and unfounded grievances of millions of voters. Soon we will learn whether he can still trigger their decency—if there is any to be found.

[alltimefail-sims]

Wren Opara For @mangosimoothie's The Familiar

The Basics: -> Human; They/Them (Nonbinary) -> Traits: Perfectionist, Peaceful, Snob, Neat, Party Animal -> Blood Type: B Negative -> Gay AF -> Young Adult (irl probably like 23 y.o.)

Many details below the cut! ↓

Wren grew up in a painfully high profile family. Their mother is a beloved career politician in San Myshuno who dethroned her conservative competitor at the height of his career. She's been fighting for whatever it is Democrats want people to think they care about while shaking hands with elitist bureaucrats and not getting their own child's pronouns right for years now. Wren's father, on the other hand, is a retired engineer and respectable investor currently focused on funneling money into "forward thinking, clean energy advancements." He's an effortless public speaker who is known for wiring up crowds of eager college graduates, TED talk truthers, and other alpha male types all while speaking a maximum 10 words at home on a weekly basis - but it's fine, really!

Even if Wren's parents have never so much as held hands in their presence, they do seem to agree on a couple things like: (1) Wren could be doing more with their life, (2) Wren is "hellbent on hurting the family image," and (3) Wren should try to be more like their older brother and sister who are, in Wren's opinion, not-so-secretly competing to see who can be more fucking insufferable. So yeah, everything has always been fine. Wren is the black sheep, the youngest child with a fucking communications degree (the horror!), the queer child who is constantly held to a higher standard of what their relationships need to look like, who has a penchant for lavish, expensive parties and enough fair weather friends to fill a fucking yacht. They're fine, it's all very fine...

Except when it's not. Which is often, actually, now that they're really thinking about it. Ever heard of those child geniuses who get burnout before they're 40? Wren is going through their third (maybe fourth) midlife crisis before 25, so although that's not ideal, at least people can't call Wren an underachiever. After years of doing all the right things, keeping their head down, shaking all the right hands, and being under the heavy scrutiny of the public at large and still not being good enough, they've pretty much just hit a wall. Like, what's the point? So yeah, they party and they've been in a bit of a funk. The parties are fun, and Wren loves a good time (and a good distraction), but it's all so fucking fake and lonely. Wren's exhausted.

So here they are, trying something truly wild because why the fuck not. Anything is better than living in proximity to people who view you solely as a burden or a benefit, depending on the context. Does Wren live to serve and perform well under immense pressure? Wren would argue that everyone's ass has to spend their whole life serving someone or something anyway, so you might as well try and make it worthwhile. Wren is neat, organized, has refined tastes, an eye for luxury, and they are certainly not squeamish. They wouldn't describe themselves as responsible by any means, but they do get shit done when they set their mind to it, and they're loyal.

They've worked plenty of shitty jobs in the past. They've been a Starbucks barista in a fucking yuppie ass Target on Black Friday; they cleaned bathrooms and slung drinks while working at the sluttiest, dirtiest, raunchiest club in SanMy; they've worked on their own mother's godforsaken campaign with the most miserable Midwesterners known to man; they're pretty sure they can handle just about anything. After all, Wren knows enough about Atticus and Ryan to feel, with absolute certainty, that working for them would likely be worlds better than being a second class citizen in their own life. Some risks are just worth taking, and some lives are worth leaving behind.

Wren's read that one book - Twilight or some shit? It wasn't for them. They're doubtful it was like, super accurate anyway. So they might, admittedly, have a limited knowledge on what actual vampires are like, but they're extremely open minded after doing a quick web search: "What is a vampire familiar?" and reading some guy named Vlad's wiki page. Maybe the fire under their ass comes from a renewed sense of intrigue, maybe it's sparked by the potential to change their life into something truly and uniquely their own, maybe it's just their competitive nature, but Wren is eager to prove that they're a perfect fit even for the most picky, high-profile vampires.

Some fun facts: ❤ Wren's birthday is October 28th: they don't believe in astrology, but loves to jokingly call themselves a Scorpi-ho. ❤ Has 1.7 million followers on Social Bunny. ❤ Says they are 5'10 - is actually 5'8. Will look you in the eyes and deny this with their whole chest. All their shoes give a little lift for this reason lol. ❤ Not a crier or a super "expressive"/"vulnerable" person, but deals with emotional people really well and actually finds them refreshing. ❤ People have always underestimated Wren's intelligence, but they're dangerous as fuck to have in your corner. They will tank your public image or build it back up with the skill of someone twice their age. They are a numbers whiz and a spreadsheet master in disguise. They are booked and unbothered with quiet efficiency. They work in silence and make major moves in the shadows (unlike the rest of their family but I digress). ❤ Will literally vomit if anything "Pumpkin Spice" is brought within an inch of their mouth. Deadass. ❤ Changes their hair color on such a regular basis that it has become a trending topic on multiple occasions. Loves to play around with fashion in general. ❤ Their typical "type" would be someone big, beefy, and hairy. Thems the rules and Wren is not budging. (I'm not sure if Wren is applying for this position with romance on their mind, you can do with that what you will 👀) ❤ Loves the company of artist types and musicians the most, even though Wren wouldn't consider themselves to be the conventional "creative type." ❤ Will do the worst rendition of WAP you've ever heard at karaoke after a few rounds of shots. Also loves waxing poetic at art museums and pining for beautiful men from afar. ❤ All of their tattoos and piercings were impulse decisions. ❤ Lowkey a philanthropist?! Does not make a big deal about it, but gives copious amounts of their money to charity regularly and actually volunteers often. ❤ Denies watching trash reality tv but definitely does. Has two separate Spotify accounts - one for leisure and the other perfectly and meticulously curated to share when "Spotify Wrapped" season comes along. ❤ Once royally pissed off a certain celeb's stans by (jokingly) stating on a livestream that they've "Got as many clothes in their closet as [redacted] has exes." People demanded "Accountability." They posted a link to a SimsTube video response with the title "Let's Talk (Apology)." It was not an apology, but rather a clip of them going "Wooooow, you bitches really thought. Anyway, steam Traumazine."

[rockislandadultreads]

Read-Alike Friday: Bitch by Lucy Cooke

Bitch by Lucy Cooke

Studying zoology made Lucy Cooke feel like a sad freak. Not because she loved spiders or would root around in animal feces: all her friends shared the same curious kinks. The problem was her sex. Being female meant she was, by nature, a loser.

Since Charles Darwin, evolutionary biologists have been convinced that the males of the animal kingdom are the interesting ones - dominating and promiscuous, while females are dull, passive, and devoted.

In Bitch, Cooke tells a new story. Whether investigating same-sex female albatross couples that raise chicks, murderous mother meerkats, or the titanic battle of the sexes waged by ducks, Cooke shows us a new evolutionary biology, one where females can be as dynamic as any male. This isn‘t your grandfather’s evolutionary biology. It’s more inclusive, truer to life, and, simply, more fun.

Eve by Cat Bohannon

How did the female body drive 200 million years of human evolution

Why do women live longer than men?

Why are women more likely to get Alzheimer’s?

Why do girls score better at every academic subject than boys until puberty, when suddenly their scores plummet?

Is sexism useful for evolution?

And why, seriously why, do women have to sweat through our sheets every night when we hit menopause?

These questions are producing some truly exciting science – and in Eve, with boundless curiosity and sharp wit, Cat Bohannon covers the past 200 million years to explain the specific science behind the development of the female sex: “We need a kind of user's manual for the female mammal. A no-nonsense, hard-hitting, seriously researched (but readable) account of what we are. How female bodies evolved, how they work, what it really means to biologically be a woman. Something that would rewrite the story of womanhood. This book is that story. We have to put the female body in the picture. If we don't, it's not just feminism that's compromised. Modern medicine, neurobiology, paleoanthropology, even evolutionary biology all take a hit when we ignore the fact that half of us have breasts. So it's time we talk about breasts. Breasts, and blood, and fat, and vaginas, and wombs—all of it. How they came to be and how we live with them now, no matter how weird or hilarious the truth is.”

Eve is not only a sweeping revision of human history, it’s an urgent and necessary corrective for a world that has focused primarily on the male body for far too long. Picking up where Sapiens left off, Eve will completely change what you think you know about evolution and why Homo sapiens has become such a successful and dominant species.

The Exceptions by Kate Zernike

In 1963, a female student was attending a lecture given by Nobel Prize winner James Watson, then tenured at Harvard. At nineteen, she was struggling to define her future. She had given herself just ten years to fulfill her professional ambitions before starting the family she was expected to have. For women at that time, a future on the usual path of academic science was unimaginable—but during that lecture, young Nancy Hopkins fell in love with the promise of genetics. Confidently believing science to be a pure meritocracy, she embarked on a career.

In 1999, Hopkins, now a noted molecular geneticist and cancer researcher at MIT, divorced and childless, found herself underpaid and denied the credit and resources given to men of lesser rank. Galvanized by the flagrant favoritism, Hopkins led a group of sixteen women on the faculty in a campaign that prompted MIT to make the historic admission that it had long discriminated against its female scientists. The sixteen women were a formidable group: their work has advanced our understanding of everything from cancer to geology, from fossil fuels to the inner workings of the human brain. And their work to highlight what they called “21st-century discrimination”—a subtle, stubborn, often unconscious bias—set off a national reckoning with the pervasive sexism in science.

Brave the Wild River by Melissa L. Sevigny

In the summer of 1938, botanists Elzada Clover and Lois Jotter set off down the Colorado River, accompanied by an ambitious expedition leader and three amateur boatmen. With its churning rapids, sheer cliffs, and boat-shattering boulders, the Colorado was famed as the most dangerous river in the world. But for Clover and Jotter, it held a tantalizing appeal: no one had surveyed the Grand Canyon’s plants, and they were determined to be the first.

Through the vibrant letters and diaries of the two women, science journalist Melissa L. Sevigny traces their forty-three-day journey, during which they ran rapids, chased a runaway boat, and turned their harshest critic into an ally. Their story is a spellbinding adventure of two women who risked their lives to make an unprecedented botanical survey of a little-known corner of the American West at a time when human influences had begun to change it forever.

[zacksfairest]

Top 5 favorite books of 2023 and 5 least favorite books, go!

Oh boy! I was so very kind to myself this year and read mostly bangers. Let's see what we've got.

The Dragon Republic by R.F. Kuang. Now, I love the entire Poppy War trilogy, make no mistake about that. It completely rewired my brain and has firmly taken up the spot of Favorite Series Ever. But The Dragon Republic specifically was just It for me. It gave me everything. A well thought out and executed campaign of war, not sparing us the grizzly details (civilian casualties, civilian displacement, the logistics of moving a large army, how ACTUAL BATTLES work), as well as WAR CRIMES. But in addition to that, I was given Rin and Nezha. The epitome of Show Not Tell where it comes to developing feelings. Hateful schoolmates turned comrades in arms turned almost lovers turned mortal enemies. A tragedy that serves as a mere backdrop to the larger tragedy happening in the country at large due to a lingering invading force and a newly sparked civil war. This was easily my favorite book of the year, and I have been chasing the high from reading it ever since. Outbound Flight by Timothy Zahn. Yeah, I've owned this book since 2006 and never read it. What about it? I am well aware that was a major blunder on my part. Perhaps had I read it sooner, I would have been able to hop on the Thrawn train much sooner than 30 years late. This book truly had me sucked in right from the start. Young soldier Thrawn? Dedicated to his troops and his people? Willing to do anything to keep his people safe from the dangers that lurk in the infinite abyss if the universe? Swoon worthy. And also watching Maris be all heart eyes over Thrawn was a big Same Girl moment. Mr. Zahn knew what he was doing to us all along. Yet another book that understands how battles work! And with characters at the helm that are actual good tacticians and understand how battles work also. Dark Force Rising by Timothy Zahn. Yes. Another Thrawn book. Shut up. I loved the entirety of the (original) Thrawn trilogy, but this one really stood out. Leia was allowed to do her thing and be a force to be reckoned with in her own right. Also it felt good seeing a pregnant woman not be sidelined just because she was pregnant. Leia Organa-Solo does not stop and will not be stopped. This was yet another book that understood war and tactics, as well as the espionage that goes into ensuring proper battle plans can be laid out. I owe Zahn my life for being so consistent with this content, as I am a drowning lass in a sea of books that do not fucking understand how this shit works. Also, Thrawn won this round, which felt good. Felt organic. Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo. AH, YES. The book that proved I was right to put my faith in Bardugo and her plans for Ninth House. We got hot demons! We got fucked up journeys to hell! We got vampires! We got it all here, folks! I'm still super hoping that we get to see someone fuck Darlington by the third book. I want to see that demon dick in action. I hope it's fucked up. The Stolen Heir by Holly Black. This one went an entirely different route than I thought. I expected your standard YA fare: hot dude and meek girl meet, are at odds for a bit, fall in love, etc., except with fae. I should have known better. It's Holly Black, after all. Instead I got a viscious girl as my main character, a hot fae dude (Oak, baby. You're all gown up!), but they have most definitely not fallen in love by the end of this book. I got to put this on my Problematic Villain Love Interests shelf on goodreads! And not even for the reason I usually do! I still think about that final line: "I can't pretend that I don't like the sound of him screaming my name."

As for our bottom five... well. It's a bottom three. Like I said, I was kind to myself this year (also I read a lot of manga. Don't look at me.)

The Resistance Girl by Jina Bacarr. We don't talk about this one. I technically started reading it at the end of 2022, but I didn't finish it until we were decently into 2023. So it counts. It was awful. Terrible. An affront to the written word. And not for the reasons that everyone was up in arms about it. Writing was terrible. Characters were awful and indistinguishable from each other. Plot was bad. Dialogue was the worst slop I've ever laid eyes on. Descriptions not much better. It was just awful. A Curse for True Love by Stephanie Garber. This one was a spirit breaker. The Ballad of Neverafter was so goddamned good. The ending specifically was spectacular and left us off on a wonderfully torturous cliffhanger. I was so excited for what the final book had in store. However, I was so caught up in the euphoria of having a delightful fucked up immortal love interest in Jacks, that I forgot that Garber is Not Great at ending her series. The book overall really wasn't fantastic (a tragedy), but there was a Specific Line toward the end that fucking just. Ruined the entire book for me. Lowkey ruined the whole series, but I fight hard to prevent that from being the case. I loved the first two books so much. I refuse to let terrible storytelling and copouts and a single retcon ruin it for me. Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts by Kazushige Nojima. This one was really just a big letdown. It was just a meandering tale of Tifa and Aerith's childhoods. We somehow just completely skipped over how traumatic their respective experiences were at the hands of Shinra. We instead decided to give me boring as fuck stories about their everyday lives. Like. I get it. This is really just a money grab and a way to generate hype for FFVII: Rebirth. But still. Have some pride in your work, Square! Have pride in your characters! Let the writers have fun! I still stand by the idea that the translator might have had a bit to do with why I didn't enjoy it, though. The Kids Are Alright remains one of my favorite books, and the writing for that was fantastic. It was written by the same guy who wrote this book! And it had, what I would say is, the best english translation for a Japanese novel I've ever read. But the translator who worked on the FFXV novel The Dawn of the Future also worked on this Tifa and Aerith centric novel, and I wasn't a giant fan of the writing in the FFXV book either. So while the translator probably played a part in how much this book disappointed me, I don't think much could have saved the meandering plot and redundant experiences contained within.

[kessielrg]

[Zelda] Please, Protect the Arts: Part 1

Notes: I have an outline for this story, but I don’t know how I’ll pace out when I write the chapters proper. I won’t be uploading this to AO3 until it’s finished either way (I think), so please enjoy it now. There is not a particular version of Link and Zelda in mind, I just want to play with the characters a bit. Link is partially mute.

Rating: K

Word Count: 1,593 words

Next | AO3

- - -

There were two things that Zelda disliked: people who used their strength to hurt others, and when her father listened to lobbyists with money instead of the people any new law actually effected. That being said, Zelda kept a close eye on the politics her father was involved with. He would sometimes joke that she was the only campaign manager he’d ever listen to. 

And, like most politicians, he was lying. 

Zelda’s father only listened when she was truly annoyed by a certain law, and he only truly followed her advice when he got enough citizen approval to follow through. By then it was too late to change the other politician’s minds as well, leaving the bill to usually go in favor of the wrong party. It was frustrating. It made Zelda wish she never went into politics herself.

She would though.

She was too furious with the world not to.

The notes from the last state-wide conference sat on her father’s office desk. Zelda hadn’t meant to spy on them. She had actually come into his office to get a spare pencil. Her father kept a lot of spare pencils in his desk drawer- enough so that it was the only thing allowed in that particular drawer. The Manila folder with the conference notes didn’t seem important at first, and Zelda had almost dismissed it. It wasn’t until her eyes caught the word ‘education’ that Zelda took a double take.

Curiosity soon became her enemy.

“You can’t let this arts grant -or lack thereof- go through!” Zelda demanded as she stormed to her father.

The poor old man, who sometimes wished he had his daughter earlier to better keep up with her energy, turned his gaze away from the chessboard to Zelda instead. He gave her a tired smile to counter her unbridled anger.

“I’m afraid that decision is not entirely my own,” he reminded her. “If anything, it’s out of my hands. That decision mostly rests with the board of ed.”

Zelda slammed her hand down on the chessboard as she looked her father dead in the eye. “You know that’s a lie.” she seethed. “Especially when you know as well as I do that the wording points toward one particular school.”

Her father gave a heavy sigh, and left that at his only answer. Zelda followed his gaze to where she had accidentally knocked over a knight. Peering over it was the queen, just two moves away from creating a checkmate.

. . .

When Zelda was mad, she went to the library. It had been a way her mother taught her to manage her anger. A place where silence had to be maintained. A place where you could transfer that anger to a protagonist that kept making terrible decisions in the first act of a fantasy trilogy. A place where things could be alright in the end, as long as you had the patience to see it through.

If only real life could work like that.

Zelda and her father had come to an ultimatum; if she was able to convince the board of education that the art program should resume its regular funding (or receive more), then he promised he’d make sure the budget cut wouldn’t go through. Zelda had accepted the challenge without thought. It wasn’t until she got to the library that she realized she had essentially signed the budget cut bill herself. The young woman let out a whining sigh to herself as she thumbed the spines of the books she passed. She didn’t know how important the arts were to properly support them. She herself had only taken music lessons for the school credit and not from genuine interest. Even then, she had no idea on how it applied to her life after- other than a feeling of fleeting satisfaction as her fingers fluttered over a well cared for harp.

Thinking of music and budget doom almost made her tune out the sounds of a wind instrument being played. When it did register, it took Zelda a few moments more to realize she wasn’t simply thinking the tune. No, no, no. Someone was actually playing music in the library. Partially furious at the breech of silence she had been told was mandatory, Zelda went after the sound.

Her search brought her to the very back of the library. Residing there were study rooms. Sitting in one of them was a boy not much older than she was, and he was gently playing a tune on a small, handmade, wooden ocarina as he looked over the thin book he was reading. The sight immediately made Zelda recoil. How on earth did he sneak a music instrument in, however small it was, and how had no one told him to stop yet?

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he?” a voice asked from behind her, making Zelda jump. Her fingers accidentally knocked against the study room door as she whipped her whole body around. It was just a librarian. Zelda offered up a rather guilty smile in return.

“It’s a bit disheartening to see him practice here.” she admitted. “Is there no room for him at the music center?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” the librarian mused, “But he’s welcome here regardless.”

Zelda nodded in understanding. But something egged at the back of her mind. She realized what it was soon enough.

“You don’t know his name?”

For this, the librarian gave a rather sheepish shake of their head.

“It’s never come up.” they admitted.

“Never?”

“Never.”

Zelda now gave the librarian a funny look. How was it possible to never know a patron’s name? At the very least it would have been on the library card…

The librarian caught on to her expression pretty quickly.

“He doesn’t talk.” the librarian went on to amend. “At least,  not very often. He just comes in every Friday, sits right there in that room (it’s got better sound protection from what I’ve heard- gets booked for meetings often because of it), and just plays away from whatever sheet music he’s brought in.”

“Really?” Zelda questioned. She turned to look back at the boy- her blood ran cold in seeing that he was staring right back at her. Apparently, the sound proofing wasn’t that good either way.

The two kept eye contact for what seemed like forever. The boy’s dark blue eyes held a sort of hidden wisdom; as if he saw a lot of things but were never part of them. Zelda wondered what stories he could tell. She wondered what kind of gossip he knew.

“It looks like he’s taking a break now.” the librarian then noted from over Zelda’s shoulder. “You might be able to go in and talk to him if you want.”

“I think I might.” Zelda nodded, not once turning her gaze away from the boy.

Her body moved on its own. One moment Zelda was aware that she was outside the study, and the next she was sitting down opposite of the boy. In his hands was the ocarina still. And surely enough in between them on the table was sheet music. In trying to figure out which piece it was, Zelda noticed a familiar logo. It was the same as the school that the budget cut bill would affect. A part of Zelda’s chest tightened.

“You go to the Hylian School of Arts?”

The boy looked at her, blinked, then casually looked down at his sheet music. He looked back up at her again with a nod.

“You must come from a pretty affluent household.” Zelda mused. She was prodding, she knew it, but she had to see what this boy knew. “HSOA is very thorough with its application process.”

To her surprise, the boy shook his head.

“A scholarship then?”

For this, he nodded, and part of Zelda already understood why.

“If you don’t mind,” Zelda went on, “Can I have your name? There is a rather broad budget cut planned for your school, and I promised my father (a local representative of the state) that I would create an argument against the board of education to keep that funding. If I knew your name, we could work together to build a case. What do you think?”

The boy thought about it longer than Zelda was anticipating. Eventually, she started to ruffle through this sheet music for a blank page. Unceremoniously ripping off a generous piece from the corner, the boy withdrew a pencil that had been inside a backpack hidden under the table and wrote something down. Zelda wasn’t able to see it until he handed it to her.

‘Wednesday, 1:00pm. Room 115.’

“This isn’t your name.” came Zelda’s first, very confused, remark.

The boy smiled at it- it carried notes of mischievousness and a special kind of cockiness. He got up from his spot, gently placing the ocarina down in doing so, and gestured for Zelda to follow him. Zelda raised an eyebrow, but did so anyway. Together he led them out of the study room and back through the library. The boy’s path seemed certain as they reached the kids’ section, but faltered as he searched the rows for something in particular.

A small noise resembling an ‘ah-ha!’ escaped his lips before he pulled a book out. He gave it to Zelda with a careful look of contemplation. He studied her reaction as she looked over the title: Rumpelstiltskin.

“Oh, so you think you’re funny, do you?” Zelda soon snarked at him. 

His only response was a wide, boyish grin.

[fatedreamsend]

The journal of Anise Greenleaf, Entry #6

[Side note from Anise's player: I started this as a writing experiment waaay back near the start of the campaign as a way to try to explore Anise's character a little and give her some backstory from before the started. I hand wrote it in an actual journal because I thought it would be fun. These are scans of the sixth entry.]

Back to Entry #5

Transcription below the cut:

11/30/2002

It has already been two weeks. It feels like it has been two years, honestly. Renovations are going smoothly, and I took Beech with me to restock on some potions ingredients. Grandpap had a weekly shipment from the shop we went to, and once we are up and running again they will be more than happy to resume the shipments, they say. They were surprised at how young I am, but happy grandpap finally got to retire. I didn't tell them he got sick.

Beech apologized for how Buck has been acting toward me. He told me Buck has set him up on numerous blind dates with his "friends" as well, and without his permission, even! I didn't ask him directly about this, but I get the impression that i have more in common with Beech than Buck in terms of who we would prefer to date. It would explain a great deal.

I've been reading the books I acquired earlier in the week. So many human authors have no idea how magic truly works, but many of their books are at least entertaining to read. I read a I'm reading this delightful trilogy right now, the first of which was called "Howl's Moving Castle." I quite like the protagonist Sophie. The titular Howl is spot-on for many of the mages I've met in my day.

I did play the Game Boy for a bit. My favorite of the games I tried is called Tetris, it is the one that is like a falling puzzle. I am not very good at it I think, but I've no way of knowing, have I? I only tried three of the games. I am not very fond of Space Invaders, and I think I would enjoy Pac Man more if I was better at it. Freddie always used to tell me I just had to practice at it to get better. Then and now I'd rather practice magic or wildshapes. or potions. Or gardening. I am quite excited to have my own garden. Grandpap left instructions fo rht emany enchantments he used to be able to grow anything successfully in this dreadful city. One day I hope to recplicate them. That, I will gladly practice.

On to Entry #7

[robertreich]

The Republican War On Teachers

There’s a war being waged on America’s teachers,  and we must stand up for them before it’s too late.

Teachers watch over America’s most precious asset — our children.

They dedicate their lives to caring for our youth, serving as role models, and making sure that future generations are set up for success.

So why on Earth are we treating them so badly?

Our nation’s teachers are not only working long, demanding hours inside and outside of the classroom — but they’re blamed these days for almost everything imaginable.

They are yelled at by parents over masks, reprimanded by school boards about books they assign or let their students read, vilified by politicians for teaching honest lessons about America’s history of racism and genocide, even told to arm themselves against the possibility that their classrooms might be invaded by murderous young men with semi-automatics.

Teachers are also making less money than they were ten years ago. Their average salary today is around $66,000, but when adjusted for inflation, that’s a $2,000 pay cut compared to 2012. As recently as 2018, nearly 600,000 public school teachers had to work a second job.

We’re also saddling our nation’s educators with huge debt. Nearly half of teachers, 45%, have taken out student loans to pay for the advanced degrees often required of them — with an average debt load of $55,800.

On top of all this, 94% of teachers have had to dip into their own pockets to buy school supplies. This, in the richest country in the history of the world! And at a time when the average Wall Street employee bonus for 2021 hit a record high of $257,500. It would take the typical teacher almost four years to make that much — and that’s just a bonus for Wall Street traders — a massive golden cherry on top of their ever-sweeter salaries.  

I’m guessing Wall Street firms don’t make traders pay for their own pencils.

Are Wall Street bankers really worth so much more than the people we ask to care for and teach our children? P-l-e-a-s-e.

Yet none of this has stopped Republicans from accelerating their war on teachers, and turning educators into political pawns in their battle to advance a radical agenda.

Since January 2021, 35 states have introduced 137 bills limiting what educators are allowed to talk with their students about – with regard to race, American history, politics, sexual orientation and gender identity.

Governors Greg Abbott of Texas and Ron DeSantis of Florida are poster boys for this campaign, even supporting legislation that intrudes on a teacher's ability to craft lesson plans.

Republicans are quick to lob the terms “critical race theory” or “wokeism” against any curriculum that allows our youth to express their identities, advances critical thinking skills, and is honest about our nation’s tragic racial history — calling it “indoctrination” or “brainwashing.”

Why?

Because the biggest threat facing the Republican Party is a new multi-racial generation of young people unafraid to speak truth to power.

Ultimately, if we don’t learn from our history — which often means learning from our mistakes — there’s no way we can tackle our nation’s most pressing problems while building a better, more inclusive future. The foundation for this future begins in the classroom.

So how can we fight back against this war on America’s teachers?

First, pay them twice as much as they’re earning. Bare minimum.

Second, fight for their freedom to teach. Many of the decisions that affect teachers' day-to-day work — as well as the lives of students — are made at local school board meetings. So, go to one. Better yet, run for a position on your local school board.

Third, listen to our teachers. Do you know what’s been lost in the cultural and political war against education in this country? The voices of ACTUAL teachers. If we’re going to truly support them and repair the harm done to our education system, they need to be heard.

Defend our teachers. Pay our teachers. Value our teachers. The work they do determines our future.

[treybriggsthewriter]

This makes me nervous, but I’m going to post it. I’m going to try my best to achieve my goals. I’ve put in a ton of work already, so I’m looking for additional help. 

From the campaign:

My name is Trey Briggs, and I'm a black woman who writes paranormal horror, speculative fiction, and other types of fiction. You can find my stories at MaybeTrey , Astrid the Devil , and on Instagram , Medium , and Wattpad .

My stories are aimed at black people who want to read dark stories that focus on original black characters that are complex and interesting. I genuinely believe Black audiences deserve a variety of genres to delve into, and I want to introduce them to paranormal horror, dark romance, and fantasy that they haven't gotten enough of in the past. I also believe that this can be done across multiple mediums, and I spend my money with black creative professionals to make these experiences extend beyond my words. For the last two years, I've run my stories on sites and Instagram to great reception. I like to craft complex experiences that offer looks at character backgrounds, side and backstories, full websites for each title, and more. I also provide encyclopedias, maps, audio journals, and other ways to get into each world. During these last few years, I've run into a lot of walls, jumped a lot of hurdles, and tried my best. I've worked with amazing black artists, voice actors, and actresses, musicians, designers, and more. I trust my ability to run a project, especially when it comes to planning and finding talent. My overall goal is to run a team of black creatives that crafts novels, graphic novels, audio experiences, and animated series for a dedicated audience.

Why I Need Help Long story short: I have the skill, I have the marketing/website building/business experience, and I have the drive. There's a lot I can do on my own, but there's also a lot that gets left behind because I don't have the money I need to proceed at a steady pace. I need help with funding so I can focus, hire the right people, and craft these stories the way they deserve to be crafted. I have thus far spent over $60,000 of my own money on my projects over the past two years - the writing and site-building are easy for me; the rest has to be hired out. I have art, site costs for hosting, domains, templates, specific plugins, and maintenance, audio (and vocal artists to pay), musical, and editing costs. I'm by no means rich or even particularly financially stable. I have taken on tons of extra clients for my digital marketing business, transcribed hundreds of hours of audio for dirt cheap, and taken out personal loans. I even worked a second full-time job along with my full-time business last year to afford to produce the content I love. It's starting to take a toll on my mental health. I plan on continuing to fund these projects out of pocket (and finding ways to do so), but having financial help, however big or small, would allow me to move a lot faster and with less stress. It would let me flesh out ideas and concepts that I have had to scrap because I can only physically handle so much extra work. I run a full-time marketing business from home, homeschool my autistic 10-year-old, and generally have a busy life. Some of the strain is taking a toll on me, and I don't want to give up. Having some financial backing could allow me to drop a client or two after a few months and focus on the work I love to do.

How You Can Help I mainly need a start—a sort of base. I want to emphasize that I plan to continue to provide the main bulk of funding for my projects. I know my goals are ambitious, and I know each step will take time and money. I welcome any help to make the process smoother and to get around the initial hurdles. I'd like to have ebooks and novels offered on my site by the end of the year (along with the free serials and stories). Funding means that I can broaden the projects, include more free aspects to my sites, and secure direct financing through sales of ebooks and audiobooks sooner. It also means that I can offer MORE stories, whether they are online only or fully fleshed out novels and sites. I am swamped with trying to work enough to cover all my bills and creative projects, so I lose a lot of time I could spend plotting and writing. If I have better funding, I can get my stories out quicker (and with fewer mistakes).

The Initial Stories Let's talk about my stories! If you're familiar with my work already, you can skip to the next section. My main story site is Maybe Trey . Currently, I have two big titles and a bunch of smaller ones that I am seeking help with funding: Astrid the Devil

Astrid the Devil is the complicated story of a girl who inherits not only her family's features and DNA, but their fears, struggles, and fights. It's the story of a condition called Devil Syndrome, the women who suffer it, and the monsters that devour them. It's the story of the fight to save the people you love at the expense of innocent lives. At its core, Astrid the Devil is the story of a woman who inherits the chaos of three generations before her. It's a look at what is truly passed down to our children, and how they're left to fight our battles in the aftermath of our failures. It's the tale of an indescribable monster and the women who struggle to defeat it. It's a journey into how their every decision could save or destroy an entire world. Astrid the Devil is the story of Astrid Snow, but her story can't be told without the story of the women before her.

Vicious: On MaybeTrey  and The Vicious site (in progress)

Somewhere, a war is brewing.  That's the only thing that's for sure to Junnie Gorton, a young horned girl suffering from a debilitating disease called Horn Rot. She typically dealt with her low survival rate and abnormally large horns by escaping the world with her best friend, Lewish. Now she's forced to figure out which side is which, save her entire species, and find out the truth behind the sudden uprising in her home. Horn Rot, a highly contagious and violent disease spreading through horned people, is causing mass amounts of madness and death. Normal horns grow in ways that will pierce, suffocate, and maim their owners, and the only one who can stop it is Junnie's mother, Lyria. As Lyria falls deeper and deeper into an anti-social revolt, the country reels. While Junnie broods, her entire species must prepare for mass extinction. Her brother plots with a group of people with less than good intentions and Lewish is quieter than usual. In a civilization brought up on extreme violence and competition, Junnie and Lewish try their best not to get swallowed by their culture, their lives, or their horns.

Bunni and Bosque :

Bunni lives. Bosque dies. We all know how this story starts. Bunni is obsessed with destruction and death. She comes from the healthiest Horned family in her country. She's from the oldest, purest bloodline in the world. And she's bored with it. Bunni spends most of her time trying to escape her duties as a pureblood. She wants things dirty, messy, foul, inconsistent. Having parents that are willing to kill to keep their bloodline pure is annoying. Knowing that she'll live a long, full life, produce more perfect children, and die unscathed is agonizing. Bunni wants something to mourn. We all know how this story ends. Bosque is destined to die an agonizing death, alone on his family's land. He's watched everyone he loved and grew up with perish. Sometimes it was because of their disease. Sometimes it was because of the malice and hatred of others. While he's absolutely withdrawn and satisfied with his life, Bosque has never had a chance to live it. He spends his days basking in the sun, bathing in wood baths, and contemplating the end. Bosque isn't interested in joining the rest of the world. He'd rather die out, alone, where his family belonged. Bosque wants to go peacefully. But neither expected to meet each other one day in a supermarket. Neither expected to fall in love, lust, and every vicious and dirty thing between. Neither expected to be so right for each other, all while being wrong for everyone else. You know the end of this story. Bunni lives, Bosque dies. But maybe something will change.

My smaller titles, Bunni and Bosque /Aite and Jude, can be found at Maybe Trey .

The Business Plan

The initial phase of my business plan is to get the sites populated with ebooks and audiobooks for sale. I also have prints that can be sold. Right now, I am in the audience-building phase while I save up for editing the full novels. 

In terms of an actual business with which to publish the stories, I already have a registered publication company in Illinois: Wolfless Studios LLC. I took this step earlier this year with plans to self-publish Astrid and Vicious. So that is paid for and done.

I have also gotten initial editing done on the first six chapters of Astrid, though it will need to be edited from the beginning again once everything is said and done. I've spent over $1000 on that so far, and it would go a lot faster if I didn't need to save up to edit each chapter.

Astrid the Devil is fully plotted, outlined, and only needs the last three chapters. Bunni and Bosque and Vicious are newer, but plotted and already deep into character development (all being shared across social and Wattpad for audience growth). Aite and Jude and other shorts are plotted, and three other unshared stories are plotted and at the editing phase.

Other costs and ways I would use the funding (I would still put in my own money and do as much on my own as possible):

Initial $30K

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy edits for Astrid (currently at 250000+ words/expecting over 300000 at $0.02 rate)

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy Edits for Vicious

$3000 - $4000 Line and Copy Edits for Bunni and Bosque

ISBN Purchases (Separate ISBN for each format for each book) - https://www.myidentifiers.com/identify-protect-your-book/barcode

Covers for Astrid/Vicious/B&B Print Versions

Site Hosting Costs and Maintenance for 2 Years

Site completion for all stories

Initial store and app development

40K - Marketing and Graphic Novels

Social, Print, and Web ads

Email Marketing Campaigns 

Booths at Decatur Book Festival (depending on COVID)

Social ads and promos

50 to 60 pages

First two chapters offered as free promo with email sign-ups

Audio journals for each character

Situational audio journals

Encyclopedia for Astrid (finishing up)/Vicious

65K - Hires and Next Phases

Ability to hire a Full-Time Editor 

Audio Series for each (professionally done)

Vicious Graphic Novel

Additional Title Added

Short animations for both Vicious and Astrid (with plans to fund more with book sales)

Fleshed out Story Sections (Novellas for each character of each series)

Short comic series with Astrid and Vicious side characters

Possible to plan out monthly subscription service with new stories and 'story package' deliveries

75K -

Astrid the Devil Graphic Novel

Vicious Graphic Novel

Astrid the Devil Animated Short

Ability to hire part-time Web Developer

Additional bigger title

Anything Over - I ascend into pure light. And also, I can add titles, cover more mediums, and eventually expand my publishing to other black creatives.

From there, I should be able to handle the funding via sales of books, comics, audio, and more. Again, I will always offer mostly free content across the sites.

I believe in proof of concept, and I have diehard fans on my social platforms. With no outside funding, I've been able to a lot on my own. I'd love to expand my business into one that does the same for other black authors, artists, voice actors, and animators somewhere down the line. 

Thank you so much for your consideration. I appreciate all my readers, present and future, and I appreciate any help!

See incentives and more on the actual campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-trey-publish-black-paranormal-horror-stories

Thank you so much!

[no--envies]

I think Jin Guangyao’s backstory makes him a really compelling antagonist. The first few times his name appears in the novel, he’s presented as the current leader of the Jin Sect, “the only illegitimate son whom Jin GuangShan approved of” (chapter 11) and whose merits allowed him to become Chief Cultivator, the highest position of power in the cultivation world. The more we learn about him, the more we realize the situation wasn’t that simple.

As we’re repeatedly shown through Empathy, Meng Yao’s life wasn’t easy at all. When he was young, he was scorned by everyone for his lowly background no matter what he did. Even the other prostitutes in the brothel where he grew up made fun of his mother's delusion that one day Jin Guangshan would give her and her son a better life. Even Mo Xuanyu, another illegitimate son, was treated better than him by Jin Guangshan, because his mother came from a good family. “At least Jin GuangShan still remembered that he had such a son and brought him back to Koi Tower” (chapter 48), while Meng Yao and his mother were completely abandoned.

After his mother died, Meng Yao went to find his father, but of course he wasn’t received. Instead, he was kicked down the stairs of Koi Tower and rolled down the steps from top to bottom. How did he react to this affront?

Allegedly, he didn’t say anything after he got up. Wiping away the blood on his forehead, then dusting off the dirt that got onto his clothes, he picked up his belongings and walked away.

(Chapter 48)

We always see him react like this against adversity. He never gets angry, never yells, never vents his frustration in any way. We don’t know what kind of feelings he harbors in his heart. This is much more terrifying than Nie Mingjue’s volatile temper.

After this, Meng Yao didn’t give up at all. If anything, this experience gave him more determination to see his and his mother’s dream fulfilled. He didn’t have strong spiritual powers because he had started cultivating too late, but he was gifted with a keen mind and a lot of resourcefulness. He was refused by the Jin Sect, so he went to the Nie. He managed to attract Nie Mingjue’s attention by doing the things he knew Nie Mingjue would approve of, like helping civilians during the war. We don’t know how much of it was due to his own concern for the well-being of the common people. On one hand, Jin Guangyao built the watchtowers to help people in the most remote areas, despite meeting a lot of opposition for it, both from his father and the other sects. On the other hand, he used innocent prostitutes to murder his father and then killed them, so he doesn’t seem to actually care about the common people. I think most of his actions while he was in the Nie Sect were calculated to make the sect leader notice him.

Nie Mingjue’s righteousness made him stand up for Meng Yao when he heard people bad-mouthing him. Nie Mingjue had his flaws and a black-and-white morality, but he was fair to his subordinates and gave credit where it was due. He showed his appreciation for Meng Yao’s hard work and attitude by appointing him as his deputy. Meng Yao’s situation in the Nie Sect of course wasn’t ideal and he struggled to be accepted (the scene with the cultivators refusing to drink from the teacups served by the “son of a prostitute” was telling), but being the sect leader’s deputy was the highest position he could have achieved only through his merits. I believe that if he had decided to stop there and be satisfied with what he already had - a good position, two sect leaders who supported him - his life would have been much happier.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Meng Yao’s past, coupled with his habit of bottling up his emotions and remembering every affront he received, had made him accumulate years of pent-up resentment. Nie Mingjue offered him the opportunity to go where he wanted instead of using Meng Yao’s debt of gratitude to keep him by his side. He even wrote him a letter of recommendation to give to Jin Guangshan so that he could be appointed to a good position in the Jin Sect. However, Jin Guangshan didn’t even meet Meng Yao. He completely ignored his presence and even feigned ignorance when Nie Mingjue went to inquire about him. In that kind of environment, even Meng Yao’s superiors could get away with taking credit for Meng Yao’s achievements. When Nie Mingjue went to look for him, he caught him precisely while he was taking revenge.

What Meng Yao did that time was definitely questionable. Even in a world like MDZS where revenge is completely justified, Meng Yao went too far by murdering his superior for stealing his credit. The problem is that in the Jin Sect, Meng Yao didn’t have anyone he could complain to for his superior’s wrongdoings. His father couldn’t care less about him and everyone else secretly rejoiced to see him struggling: in a society where birthright was everything, the son of a prostitute was lower than them even though his father was a sect leader. Nie Mingjue told him to confess his crime and accept the punishment the Jin Sect would give him, but that was like sealing his fate. There was no way Jin Guangshan would judge him fairly. The mere son of a prostitute daring to murder a respected member of the Jin Sect? Meng Yao would have been lucky if they didn’t execute him on the spot. Nie Mingjue didn’t consider all of this because his rigid mentality prevented him from seeing the nuance in Meng Yao’s situation. He thought that if Meng Yao truly had his reasons for killing his superior, the Jin Sect would acknowledge it. He didn’t take classism into consideration because he couldn’t see past his own privilege.

Nie Mingjue’s mentality was too black-and-white, but he wasn’t completely wrong, either. In that moment he caught a glimpse of Meng Yao’s true nature: that of a schemer and a manipulator. From that moment on, Nie Mingjue could never trust Meng Yao again like he had done in the past. He didn’t completely give up on him, though: after the end of the Sunshot Campaign, when Meng Yao was finally recognized by his father and became Jin Guangyao, Nie Mingjue accepted to become sworn brothers with him because he wanted to bring him back to the right path.

At the time Meng Yao had apparently achieved his goal: his father had recognized him and given him a place in Koi Tower, finally acknowledging his merits. However, that was far from the truth. Jin Guangshan had no intention whatsoever of making Jin Guangyao his heir; he gave him the tasks of a servant and made him do the things he wouldn’t dirty his precious heir’s hands with. He ordered Jin Guangyao to get rid of all the obstacles that prevented him from reaching the position of Chief Cultivator, and Jin Guangyao did. Despite this, his father never cared for him and never really accepted him. On top of that, Madam Jin didn’t show an ounce of compassion for the illegitimate son of her husband: she kept venting her frustrations on him as if Jin Guangyao was at fault for her husband’s vices.

Jin Guangyao was mostly isolated in Koi Tower, but somehow he kept believing that someday his father would actually recognize him. What made him lose faith completely was what Jin Guangshan said about his mother:

“Why was a sect leader who spent money like water unwilling to do the smallest favor and buy my mother’s freedom? Simple—it was too much trouble. My mother waited for so many years, weaving together so many difficult circumstances when she talked to me, imagining for his sake so many hardships. And the real reason was only a single word: trouble.

“This is what he said, ‘It’s especially women who’ve read some books who think they’re a level higher than other women. They’re the most troublesome, with so many demands and unrealistic thoughts. If I bought her freedom and took her back to Lanling, who knows how much fuss she’d make. It was best that I let her stay where she was just like that. With her conditions, she’d probably be popular for a few more years. She wouldn’t have to worry about her spendings for the rest of her life.’

“‘Son? Oh, forget it.’”

(Chapter 106)

Jin Guangyao did a lot of despicable things in his life. He had the chance to stop and be happy with what he had so many times, but he never did. He kept obeying his horrible father’s wishes and sacrificing innocent people for the sake of his own ambition. He had a lot of talents and skills he could have used to do good, but he wasn’t a good person.

His backstory does an excellent job at explaining his behavior and motivations. It makes him a complex character, far from one-dimensional, and I think it’s great that the ultimate villain of the story is a character like him. Jin Guangyao’s evil deeds weren’t justified in the least, but spoke of a resentment born from real struggles and the desire to climb the social ladder to prove that even someone like him - the son of a prostitute, scorned and ridiculed by everyone - could reach the top of the cultivation world.

[interact-if]

Day 3 of A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! Please perceive... Jess!

Jess, author of A Bard's Tale

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

It takes place on the fictional continent of Amaran, a high fantasy setting based on Asian and Pacific Islander cultures as opposed to traditional Eurocentric high fantasy.

In the wake of a terrible war, you are a young bard just starting your journey. Will you answer the call to adventure and embark to rouse the sleeping gods?

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

A Bard’s Tale is a story about a bard, and about a few more bards, and a world that is still living in the wake of war and occupation.

More specifically, it is the story of a bard (you!) and your quest to wake Amaran’s sleeping gods. The Bard has been experiencing recurring dreams prior to the start of the story, calling them to the capital city of Mahar’il – where they meet a colorful cast of companions and take the first steps of their journey.

A Bard’s Tale mixes old faithful D&D/RPG elements with dating sim-esque romance, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. The result is some good, clean fun. (Or dirty, depending on your choices.)

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

(Future scenes, can’t wait for readers to get to xyz place in the plot, etc.etc.)

I am most excited for readers to take their first steps onto the road. Mahar’il is meant to be a “home,” of sorts, and so these first chapters are adamant about familiarizing the reader with the city and the people they can expect to find here. But Amaran is so much bigger. I’m excited for people to see some of the other cities and regions that they’ve been only briefly introduced to so far, and also to get cracking on the complicated dynamics of Aspen and Tempest.

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

I’ve been working and playing in the larger world of Valia for a long time – through homebrewing D&D campaigns, and through the novel I am also working on, which takes place a continent away and a few hundred years in the past.

A Bard’s Tale sprung from the thought of “What will this world look like when this is all over?” “How will these people start to heal?” And, of course, “If I wrote a dating sim, who are Amaran’s most eligible bachelor(ette)s?”

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

I do! I am a biracial Korean-American, and both my parents were also born in America. It comes with a lot of diaspora blues, which I try not to project onto my characters that live in a fictional high fantasy world where racism and borders don’t have to exist. I admit that it tends to project pretty heavily anyway on the half-elves, Edin and Han.

The influence from my cultural background will become more evident the farther from Mahar’il that we get – particularly in the Jinju and Kujaku regions, which are inspired by Joseon-era Korea. (Loosely, in Kujaku’s case.)

Mahar’il is a cultural melting pot, and my inspiration for it is actually, largely, San Francisco. I’ve always admired the architecture of SF, and how the juxtaposition of antique and modern, ethnic (particularly Asian) and American, creates a sort of chaotic harmony.

However, I feel that it is important to note that the perspective from which I write is that of an Asian-American, and not just an Asian. My story is not rooted in Asian mythology, nor does its structure reflect Asian media and literature, because my foundation is largely Western.

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

Writing has always been second nature to me. Translating that to game code has been a bit tricky but I manage. And if I get stuck, I’ve made plenty of friends in the IF community, both authors and readers, who are more than willing to lend a hand.

In terms of my readers, I feel so, so blessed by you guys. I started this for fun, truly, thinking no one would be willing to read such a niche story and certainly not clamor for more than a demo. The support I’ve gotten from the community has been astounding, and I’m truly grateful for it.

Q6: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

My biggest advice is do what makes you happy, and write from your heart. Inspiration will not always be there when you want it to be, and that’s okay. Set out a pot of coffee and a nice inviting blanket for when that fickle mistress decides to appear. Don’t shy away from projects that aren’t capturing your attention, but don’t devote more time to them than you want to. No one is judging your pile of half-finished drafts, except yourself.

Go where the wind takes you, even if it’s not “profitable” or even “good,” because every minute that you spend writing makes you a better writer. And on that note, write write write. I don’t think you need to set a daily timer, or whatever Stephen King said in his self-help book, but if you make a habit of it you will see progress. And read read read. You can’t pour from an empty cup, so read voraciously – and take a scalpel to your favorite books. Learn from them, dissect them, understand what makes them tick and then sprinkle a little of that in your own work.

And finally, fix your sleep schedule. I know you need to.

[tenebrius-excellium]

Lol told you 😆 Excellinor is most definitely a Creature of most wicked intentions. A truly blackened soul. 10/10 would never meet again. Unfortunately, her son takes after her. —Ceo

Her son. You'd think Alvin would learn, wouldn't you? I mean sure, to him it always looks like Hiccup is feeding him to various dragons, which is... objectively funny ahahahhahahaha

I think that even if playing the pity party, I'd ask at some point, having lost my nose and all, what it was that got me into situations where I lost literal limbs - and would turn to dragons as my No. 1 enemy, not some scrawny boy who was just fighting to escape death himself.

However, if Hiccup starts to advocate for dragons' rights and all that later on, that's when beef truly will get personal and Alvin is bound to hate Hiccup for it. That's when they are fated to be enemies, because both parties have good reasoning for their actions. Oh my gosh I just realized that it's literally just Drago's motive in the movie O_O

Oh. my. gosh. Yeah. Imagine dragons take away your loved ones. Your home. Your literal limbs. Crushing bones and digesting your life. And here comes this annoying, youthful little shit telling you that ❀☆✧ "dragons are kind and amazing creatures" ✿❁✧☆ AND he has a matching peg leg to mock your pain with his overcoming attitude. All the while, you have conquered the brutality of dragons with equally brutal justice. It took work, y'know. It took putting yourself in danger and buying equipment and being witty and taking on a Bewilderbeast just to survive and come out on top for another day. And here's this red-haired ridiculous freckled boy trying to lecture you that all your previous efforts were in vain because "love wins". No. There were times when violence won, and Drago knew that and Hiccup didn't. Drago should have asked Hiccup about his leg as well. That's when Hiccup could have said that he found a way to forgive, and Drago could have answered that well, that didn't match his own experience and he'd come too far to change his mind now. And as for a succeeding conqueror who would've had to admit failure in the midst of his campaign, that would have been a fair answer for a villain.

Freaking heck. Framed differently, Drago could have been a sound villain and just as intelligent as Alvin (or Viggo). The cardboard character could have been the most respected antagonist in any piece of media, ever. Wow. I have a newfound admiration for book!Alvin now, because his story checks out. Sorry, I suppose I've tried to view him through the image of movie!Alvin before, which is in no way a proper comparison. Dude, Mildew. Mildew represented a hint of Alvin's finesse. Just a hint. But DUDE. The moral stakes ------ I want to write about something like this now!!!!!!!!!????? About how older characters have difficulties with change because admitting the need for change means that they may have dedicated their entire lives to a lifestyle that is "wrong" ...??? and how their way of living takes respect too because they did it as well as they knew. DUDE.

Just.......just take that entire thing I said right there and apply it to the actual late Queen of England, and see how well our young generation does in having compassion and validation for older people who definitely did wrong things. Perhaps we know better today. But the old people had a valid experience and reasons for their actions too. This is a hot take that sounds absolutely mad, but perhaps reflecting about colonization etc. just wasn't a priority for a generation of English citizens who freshly came out of a world war. Should they have reflected? Abso-freaking-lutely. Should the Queen have done more? Frickking YES! Was there enough time after the war? Surely!!! But dare I say that...people had war losses. People were selfishly focussing on getting the economy back running, getting food on the table, managing Germany, mourning their dead, getting a life again. That's a lot of change already. And I think at some point, when you grow old, you simply tire of change, no matter how important it is. Few have the energy to rise up again for yet another matter, despite how important. And so...that becomes a task left for the newly rising youth. The fresh spirits. That's now. The English have a marvelous opportunity to change right now if need be. Sadly, change will often only come when the majority of the citizens are affected badly by the current system, not just the minority. See, I know a lot of plain ignorance plays into the situation as well.

Here is a song that came on my mind while I was writing this...

Looking now at this random essay I just wrote, the moral potential of Httyd is amazing. Look at it. I love how the tiny fraction of the book!fandom that I know of wholeheartedly agrees that Cressida gives invaluable moral prompts to think about - that translate really well into the real world. Educational fiction - gosh, how much I aspire to do the same for others!!!

Anyway, returning to Excellinor. Umm. Yeah. I'm terrified to hear from her in the last 4 books. She's a formidable force to be reckoned with. Ouch. I wince for Hiccup already.

Thanks for sending me this ask, my answer got quite philosophical lol. But I love this. I love when stuff makes you think and change.

Cheers

Reddie

[deviliciousdev]

✨MBTI Types as Movie Characters🎥

The Diplomats🎙✊ (NFs)

-------------------------------------------

ENFJ, The Protagonist

Professor Xavier // The X-Men Franchise

A franchise based on a fictional minority who struggles to fight for their rights and even their lives seems the perfect place to find an ENFJ at its core. Whether it's Patrick Stewart's older more suave performance or James Mcavoy's young passionate and fervent, Professor X, you can really see an ENFJ in their element. While even mundane everyday life can be brighten and motivated by Protagonists, they truly shine within struggle. Professor X's leadership skills are only a small part of his ENFJ aura. His ability to to understand and help each of his students and X-men is an ENFJ super power of their own. One act that comes not from a desire to be liked by others, but a genuine want to better other's lives. The passion and vigor portrayed especially by James Mcavoy's younger Xavier, is another clear indicator of a Protagonist. And I think we can all agree only an ENFJ would be lying at the feet of one of the most powerful villains ever imaginable without their powers OR wheelchair while half their team is out of the fight and STILL not loose hope or belief in their cause or their people. [see X-Men: Apocalypse]

Bonus:

ENFP, The Campaigner

Captain James T. Kirk // The Star Trek Trilogy

While William Shatner's OG Kirk from the original series and that timeline's movie series, is probably more of an ENTJ, Chris Pine's rendition of the iconic Captain James T. Kirk in the new Star Trek Movies is absolutely an ENFP. Based around an alternate timeline, we see a different Kirk, one who grew up without a father and rough and lonely childhood. Not that this is a recipe for creating an ENFP, but it's a very different life than the OG Kirk had, making it clear this is set in an alternate timeline. In the first installment we see a very immature and unhealthy version of an ENFP. Kirk gets into bar fights by making smart remarks at a few Starfleet cadets, sleeps with random women, and unwittingly hits on his future Communications Officer. Through the movie he goes from so many different positions aboard the Enterprise (at one point even being shot out in an escape pod and stranded on a remote ice planet) it would make your head spin. This chaotic plot line shows Kirk's character development into becoming Captain. It's in the second and third installments we see a healthy ENFP in their prime. Kirk continuously puts the welfare of his crew and even a society of tribe like aliens, above his own. His "gut feelings" are usually in support of ideas that seem insane and dangerous to his first officer, Spock, (a definite INTJ) though always for a good or necessary cause and these ideas always work out one way or another. Kirk's deep care for his crew, chaotic actions, hilarious and utterly charming demeanor, and unbridled enthusiasm, makes him a fantastic portrayal of the Campaigner.

Bonus:

INFJ, The Advocate

Remus Lupin // The Harry Potter Film Series

One of the best characters in the world famous fantasy book/movie series, David Thewlis does a fantastic job at capturing the INFJ that is Hogwart's defense against the dark arts teacher/werewolf. While Remus was only a teacher at the school of witchcraft and wizardry for a single year, he was one of the most impactful on the protagonist's character development. The teaching position of defense against the dark arts changes with every movie, usually aiding in the continuing plot line, and Remus is without a doubt the best one at the job. Not only does he become a mentor to Harry, but we also see him give each of his students (not just the famous ones) his full attention. The rare Advocates (only making up 2% of the population) have their own magical ability of sorts, in where they can intuitively read those around them and find what will help/inspire them; sometimes seeing something in that person, the person may not even see in themselves. Remus opts for a style of teaching that is best for each individual and doesn't rely on traditional conformity. In the third movie (his debut) we see the professor use a magical trunk that harbors a bogart, a magical entity that will transform into your worst fear. In his first lesson, he not only teaches his students to confront their worst fear in a safe environment (as he's by their side), but also teaches them to turn it into something ridiculous. While giving the young witches and wizards some truly INFJ wisdom. By barring the realistic nature of fear itself, he explains that even though fear will always remain with you that doesn't mean it can't be beaten or overcome. His vital role in the later movies as the voice of reason and the voice that always values the humanitarian principle (standing up for what's right), while still struggling to battle his own demons (lycanthropy of a corporeal nature) and never making it about himself, is a level of emotional organization Advocates do as second nature. With Lupin's wise diction, tranquil cadence, inner battles, and emotional intuition, he makes the perfect candidate for the INFJ spot on this list.

Bonus:

INFP, The Mediator

Luna Lovegood // The Harry Potter Film Series

Another beloved character from the Wizarding Franchise, one of Harry's closest comrades, played by Irish born actress Evanna Lynch, the soft spoken Ravenclaw is a fantastic embodiment of a Mediator. She maintains a special and pivotal role in Harry's life. While he has Hermione to give him captain obvious analytical slaps in the face and Ron to serve as a reliable and dependable comrade; Luna provides Harry with much needed breaks from the intensity of the on going events, honest answers, and genuine reassurance. While most assume reassurance only comes in the form of compliments and agree-ability, Luna (and INFPs in general), show us sometimes you just need someone to tell you, you're not crazy. Her fierce friendship contains some of the best that INFPs have to offer. No matter if it's as a platonic date to a dinner party or fighting off Death-Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, we see her continuously be there for Harry, without even a second thought. And perhaps the thing that seals the deal for her INFP representation, is the ongoing relationship with the other students who over and over again grossly underestimate her, as her eccentric and unique conceptual ingenuity ends up providing some of the biggest plot developments of the films.

Bonus:

[note: stay tuned for the sensing thinkers list]

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean

4/5. Releases August 23.

Five years ago, Adelaide Frampton (born Addie Turnbull) was nearly forced into a marriage she didn't want by her crime boss father. She was given an out by the mysterious Duchess, ringleader of the Helle's Belles, and has since devoted her cunning (and pickpocket skills) to helping other young women out of situations like the one she was in. She's the mysterious Matchbreaker, enabling women to break free from engagements they don't want.

The Duke of Clayborn, on the other hand, is everything Addie seemingly stands against--uptight, living a life of a cold perfection, and dominating. The Duke didn't expect to end up chasing someone his care across Great Britain; and he certainly didn't expect Addie to be working with him.

As the two struggle to work together (and deal with the issue of there being only--one--bed) Clayborn must question what he stands for... And Adelaide must question if she's ready to trust.

Okay! I'm excited to talk about this one. Sarah MacLean is one of those authors where, even if I feel like she could do better on some novels... A Sarah MacLean "good" is another author's "great" in many cases. She's consistent, she's got a fun and intelligent perspective, her books are hot, and her characters are my kind of people. Also, she's just a talented writer.

I say that because while I liked and would recommend Bombshell, the first book in her Helle's Belles series, I wouldn't say that it was a favorite of mine. It's fun, adventurous, satisfying, and it even has some important things to say--but it felt like a "first book" in a series. It was setting up a lot, introducing many new people, and very much a foundation for the rest of the series. I think you could say something similar about Wicked and The Wallflower, the beginning of her Bareknuckle Bastards trilogy. Conversely, I found the beginners of her previous series quite strong (among her strongest). But both Bareknuckle and Helle's Belles are kind of built on a heavier, more intersecting mythology, right? Wicked and Bombshell had more weight to bear.

With all that being said, Heartbreaker doesn't feel any of that weight at all. It's got emotion, don't get me wrong; both Adelaide and Clayborn (Henry) have their childhood traumas, especially surrounding their fathers. But it's also a very romantic, very fun, and ultimately very sweet romance. Sweet... but not like, closed door sweet. Not at all.

In fact, I will say that Heartbreaker is one of Sarah MacLean's hottest books yet. A lot hotter, in my opinion, than Bombshell--and that book was about a heroine gossiped about for her promiscuity. Addie is a bit on the quiet side as a heroine; and Clayborn is very much a rigid, stern brunch daddy hero. But when I say Sarah MacLean is into writing dirty talk, she isn't writing dirty talk--and once he gets going, he! Is! GOING! This dude was like... another thing entirely. He's like, pulling her hair and noticing that she likes it and calling her a good girl and there may or may not be some truly excellent facesitting.

But there is also a story! There is also a romance. Clayborn is stern, but I wouldn't say that he's one of the more aggressive MacLean heroes... Conversely, I wouldn't say he's one of her softest, either. He's a 2022 Alpha, where he'll smack your ass (maybe) and tell you to come to daddy--but he's not going to like, kidnap you or anything (... unless you ask for it). Personally, I loved him. Clayborn would like, campaign to uphold Roe v. Wade but he'd also be like "you sit back with the womenfolk while I handle this threat", and I'm deeply into that. He can throw a punch, but he can also do that cool little cufflink adjustment gentlemen do. He'll be like "FAMILY. DUTY. HONOR." but he'll also be like "LISTEN BABY I LOVE YOU AND I DON'T CARE IF THE WORLD KNOWS IT!!!" A truly dramatic, endearing, and fine as fuck man. I'm a man.

Adelaide was the kind of quieter heroine that I haven't seen MacLean do in a while. Her previous few heroines, Sesily, Grace, and Hattie were all kind of bold and brash and vivacious. While Addie is certainly aware of her value and her skill as a thief, she's also trained herself to go unnoticed, and to appreciate that ability. Nonetheless, she clearly WANTS to be seen by some--mainly Clayborn. Her reliance on her talent for slipping into a crowd is reflective of the emotional walls she's put up since essentially abandoning her life to break free from her father's control. It's quite lovely on a literary level, and it gives us a heroine who isn't a bombshell, quite--but she's also not a mouse. She's more mysterious than she is nondescript, more withholding than she is insecure. That doesn't mean Addie isn't human--but in a lot of ways, I think that she's the less emotionally accessible person in this couple. Typically, that would make Clayborn a cinnamon roll hero for her--but I wouldn't call him a cinnamon roll at all. He may not be an old school alpha, but he's not a cinnamon roll (and thank God for that). To me, MacLean has done a great job in presenting the idea that you can have a hero written for 2022 readers who hasn't lost his edge, and that's important. He doesn't have to be dumbed down to make Adelaide seem stronger or more independent; she doesn't need that. He complements her perfectly.

It's not a perfect book. There is a plot happening, though I wouldn't say that it's necessarily as twisty and turny as that of Bombshell, and I don't know that it's merged into the romance as well as what you might find in some of MacLean's earlier works. However, I don't think that super matters. You're really here for the road trip romance, and it's a great road trip romance. There is... one thing that keeps this from being a 4./5 out of 5 for me. One character thing that nagged me towards the very end. However, it's over pretty quickly (which kind of makes me feel like it could have been edited out) and it doesn't take away from the overall enjoyment factor.

To me, this is a very classic Sarah MacLean book. It feels more like some of her earlier books than Bombshell or, to be honest, any of the Bareknuckle Bastards books--not that the change was a bad thing. Daring and The Duke is one of my favorite MacLeans. But if you're someone who wants a somewhat simpler, more straightforward book with a lot of adventure, emotional moments, and really hot sex--this is the one for you. I wholeheartedly recommend it.

I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 1

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go... 

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2770

Part One: Faced with Foolishness

         “Well, you know Tessa, she’s being Tessa,” Antha murmured into her phone as she watched her twin sister cozy up to her flavor of the month; Tessa flipped her box braids off her shoulder, the beaded ends flirtatiously tinkling against every surface they met. As if watching a photo negative version of herself, Antha mourned her nonexistent reputation. Had she not spent years hiding in her books she may have been able to rival her uninhibited doppelganger in white hot-pants.

        “Why do you let her do this to you? It never goes as planned, and next thing you know I’ll be cleaning you two up and feeding you McDonald’s at two thirty in the morning!” She didn’t need facetime to picture Doug wincing through the phone, pushing his Buddy Holly styled Ray-Bans up the bridge of his nose.

        “So what you’re saying is how could I let Tessa do this to you?” She laughed, rolling her Havana twists through her fingers to fight off the June humidity. Talking to her best friend helped her forget just how long she had been holding it in line to the bathroom.

         “Ant, look I don’t like that bar—you want me to come get you?”

         “And leave her? I can’t do that—listen, if we don’t call you for a ride home by midnight just come get us. I’m exhausted and I don’t think she will party that long. Besides, you-know-who just showed up.” She watched as Franco the Flake appeared, wasting no time to linger over her sister—Tessa’s flavor of the month, forgotten within an instant. Antha’s eyes rolled like marbles as she turned away to better hear her friend on the phone; some fraternity boys nearby began fist-pumping into the air as the bartender served up a line of shots for them.

         “Ugh, the Flake… well I can hear things are getting started on your end—I’ll keep my phone on me, just don’t drive. Leave her car and I’ll get you two—there’s maniacs out there especially on Friday night.” He warned.

        “I owe you,” she groaned and hung up. Antha finally arrived in the ladies’ room, only two women away from her sweet release. She watched as the women cornered the mirror like crazed wanton things, bending and zhuzhing, adjusting their “girls” to their perkiest potential through scantily low apparel.

        “Heeeyy…” She quietly greeted the woman that exited the nearest stall. The stranger gave her a haughty elevator eye from head to toe making her feel severely underdressed for a Friday night out. When she threw on a sun dress today, she never anticipated her sister would abduct her after class and have them gallivanting across town. Tessa’s exact words were “Godamnit Ant, tonight we’re gonna have fun if it kills us!” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she floored the accelerator of her Neon, then cranked up the bass as the radio station started their basement remixes. Fun if it kills us.

        Antha stared at her white sandals, her nail polish was chipped and at least three weeks old. Then she looked to her messenger bag hanging on the back of the door. It was covered in Community College film badges and club stickers, per her friend’s preferences. Antha liked her graffitied messenger bag. Like a billboard, it made her appear she had a life outside of her graduate studies.

        She should have been at home, text books spread on her lap, feet up. She could hear Doug’s old Buick coughing its way up Momma’s drive, then fumbling outside the door, trying to knock with a third of Popov, case of Dogfish Head, and pizza in his arms. Then he would throw everything on the coffee table and announce “I brought Casablanca!” to which she would say “Oh, more white people movies?” and unphased, he would reply “Good god woman, it’s not Birth of a Nation!” Antha smiled, thinking of their weekly ritual of pretending to do research while gossiping long into the night until Zoey and Tessa would drunkenly Uber home. The distinct shamble, like the walking dead, would scrape up the gravel drive signaling their arrival.

        “Hey, you almost done in there?” An annoyed voice yelled over the door, cutting through her reminiscing. Antha could see the reds of the stranger’s eyes between the door crack.

         Instead of lounging on the couch surrounded by good beer and even better friends, Antha found herself being hustled by some Fireball-turned-up twat—all under the guise of having fun. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She replied and flushed. She tightened the belt holding in the billowy fabric of her flowy, mid-thigh, sunflower-printed sundress. It was passed down from her grandmother to her mother and so on. Looking like she walked off the set of a 90’s music video, she admitted that at least she was cooler than the other girls sweating in their skin-tight jeans and heels.

        Some pretty young thing burst through the door past the line and vomited into the trash bin next to Antha while she washed her hands. It was only nine o’clock. That was a bad omen. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she realized she pouted just like Momma in those sorts of situations. She dampened a paper towel for the poor thing and could hear her mother’s words repeating in her head: “When you’re faced with foolishness—you take care of it.” Her mantra: Take care of it. Antha’s mantra: Do what Momma says. Tessa’s mantra: If it ain’t fun don’t do it.

        Antha applied her vanilla lip gloss as she thought on her mother. She made a promise as Momma was lowered in the ground that they would graduate. It was her dying wish that the twins became modern women with college degrees and to have options; to escape the laboring of farming and perhaps even the rinse and repeat of corporate Delaware. That’s all there was in their state: Farming or banking.

        She tucked her shoulder-length braids behind her ears; she truly missed her dreadlocks, but ever since the time Tessa’s boyfriend mistook her for his girlfriend, she cut them off. She was always the one to compromise. Not tonight she decided. Tonight was going to go her way. They would wrap up this foolishness by midnight.

        Antha sighed and knew it was time to face the havoc of the bar when a chatty patron pawed at her sundress asking if it was “vintage”. She replied, “Well it’s old as hell if that’s what you mean,” and hurried out the ladies’ room into the sweltering cacophony of nightlife.

        Fighting across sticky tile and sweaty rednecks she made a beeline for the bartender. “Mar, can I get two?” She bounced on her tip-toes to cut through the crowd huddled around the length of the tacky wooden bar. Maria motioned to the other side because she couldn’t reach through. Antha continued to fight her way through the herd. She could barely hear over the din of the 2016 campaign commercials and sportscasting when Maria slid two cocktails toward her. The southern comfort and coke cocktails reeked with vanilla syrup, Tessa’s favorite. Antha stared into the melting rail drinks and realized she didn’t know what to order herself because she was always the water-boy for her twin.

        “Hey, did you see what’s-his-face is in town?” Maria interrupted her thoughts.

        “Sure did.” She groused and tilted her head in the general direction of where she saw Tessa and Franco last. Through the bodies, for a moment, the crowd parted and the two stared.

        Stepping back from her esteemed role as the older sister, by barely two minutes, Antha admitted to herself that Tessa always looked good. Her off-the-shoulder top exposed a flawless ebony collarbone, shoulder blades, and arms. As if she was the Queen of Sheba incarnate, her tiny wrists were decorated with gold bangles. Her earrings matched the beads in her hair, reflecting light in her hazel eyes. A waterfall of thick box braids fell down her back and over her shoulders, past the tops of her thighs. Her years of dance complimented the country-chic white cut-offs that revealed just a hint of under cheek when she bent across the billiard table.

        “If I were a man, I’d pray for her to bite my head off quick and painless.” Maria laughed, her ponytail frizzing from the heat of her work; her hands rapidly dipping then shining high ball glasses.

        “But that’s not her style.” Antha replied wryly.

        “You’re both good girls. Now you keep her out of as much trouble as you can—I’ll send Kyle ‘round to your table with beers, just let me catch up here!”

        Maria was right: they were good girls. All of Tessa’s shenanigans aside, she never forgot cake for a birthday and with everyone’s break-ups she always had a bottle of Jack stashed with a shoulder to cry on. Tessa was the one that painted Antha’s nails and always lent her the best outfits when the event called for it. On occasion she was even known to deliver soup when her sister ran a fever.

        Tessa was the heart of the operation and Antha couldn’t begrudge her just because she was the head.

        For better or worse, they were sisters.

        Antha reluctantly clutched the chilled drinks and felt a pang of relief in the sweltering bar. She couldn’t see her sister at the billiard table with the onslaught of shuffling patrons, so she decided to move toward her booth. She narrowly missed being covered in appletini as the DJ scratched in one more summer top ten into his rotation. Before she could move forward a voice pinned her in place.

        “Your sister’s the worst, you know that?” A nice-looking guy glared at her. His teeth gleamed pink in the red bar lights. Antha bet he had a handsome smile on account of those white teeth, but he was not smiling now. She squinted through the hazy dance floor and recognized him as the guy Tessa arrived with before Franco appeared.

         “Hey John, don’t fret, Tessa’s just catching up with an old friend—he comes into town every so often, don’t get upset.” She yelled back at his face as kindly as she could manage over the blare of the oncoming band tuning their instruments. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe her and his chest instinctively puffed up.

        “John? I’m José!” He replied. Antha felt embarrassed for both her sister and herself. She grimaced unintentionally, realizing she had said it all with very few words.

        She tried to defend their position with a weak excuse. “José, I’m bad with names and faces—” but he stormed off before she could piecemeal a string of bullshit. There goes another Mr. Last Month.

        This was having fun. Antha doing damage control on last month’s flame, while Tessa stoked a new one. All of the nice memories of her sister evaporated in the heat of the interaction. She grumbled to herself, as she had grown tired of babysitting, not just Tessa but the men-children she dated. When she finally confirmed her party’s booth, she parted the shadowy sea of basic bitches.

        Tessa was giggling like a school girl when her sister dropped the sweaty glasses onto the ratty old table. Franco at her neck like a leech. I hate this guy, Antha thought to herself. He turned his hot gaze on her, “Hi Antha, didn’t see you there.” His drawl was thick like humidity. She thought about giving her drink to Tessa’s date, but now that she could see he was it, she plopped down and selfishly sipped one of the nasty cocktails without offering the second.

        “Oh hey Brian,” she said playfully, “where’s your camera?”

        “Ant, now you know this is Franco, stop playin’!” Tessa tore her eyes away from him for a split second, but after she threw her daggers she was back ogling him like a dog does a bone.

        “Sorry, it’s hard to keep all these blue-eyed, blond, gentlemen straight.” Antha marginally resisted saying yokel under her breath.

        Tessa had a type. Beyond all logic, light eyes were the buckle in her knee, the hitch in her breath; and Franco was at the top of her list. Antha assumed he was the Porsche in her garage amongst a long list of Ford’s, but she honestly didn’t know the whole story. All she knew was that Franco showed his face sparingly and only after dark. He would disappear for weeks at a time, which earned him the endearment The Flake.

        Now, Antha hadn’t dated enough men in her young life to sort them by color and size, but Tessa had. To her credit, her tastes were diverse, she did her research and knew what she liked. No one blamed her either. With that hair and those legs, Tessa could have anyone she wanted. The great appeal of Franco didn’t add up to Antha though. She found him suspicious. She thought his truck was too loud, his jeans too torn, and his eyes much too heavy.

        Franco made idle conversation, inquiring after the twins’ classes as if he cared. His blond, three-quarter parted hair was glossy under the dim lights. When he pulled his tooth pick from the back of his ear and chewed on it, it made him look like an old-fashioned mobster—well until that Delmar twang spilled out of his hillbilly mouth. There was an allure about him; all of his parts matched, but his smile unglued those pieces. A smile that never quite reached his eyes.

        Antha found herself sizing him up, drinking the disgusting cocktail faster than she wanted. I bet he has plastic zip ties and rope in his truck bed, she thought. She didn’t truly know why the image popped into her mind, it was just a feeling she got when his eyes were on her; made her feel like a snack, as if he would eat her alive right where she sat. No more Unsolved Mysteries for me this week, she insisted to herself.

        “Mmmm-hmmm.” Was the best response she could offer when he spoke to her directly. Tessa continued chatted about her business management courses as he deeply stared at her. Antha figured there was no real room for her in the conversation so she took out her world cultures text and flipped to her last page. She liked hanging out, however her final thesis was demanding all of her energy. The page fell open to vampires in the section of Egyptian mythology. She thought how ironic as her eyes shot up at the man sitting across from her.

        “So, there’s this bonfire by Slaughter Bay, I thought you ladies could come with.” Franco suggested lazily like it was too exclusive to be excited about. “You can shotgun babe and we can put Antha and her friends in back.” He eyed the textbooks growing damp on the table. Antha finished the first SoCo and started the second just to cope with him. “You could call up the girls.”

        “Zoey… Zoey... Zoey!” Tessa dramatically said into her drink and then laughed. Antha couldn’t help but smirk as Tessa explained to him her girlfriend was like Candyman and could be summoned via a pint of beer. The joke was partially lost on Franco.

        Before Tessa could agree to go Antha piped up, a little less shy now that her liquid courage had kicked in. “Sounds awfully romantic, but we can’t.” Before she could continue she was interrupted.

        “Hey girl haaayyyy!” Zoey appeared as if out of thin air and snatched one of the beers sent over by the bartender. “You goin’ nowhere without me—not after I Ubered across town!” Her two rando friends hollering and sloshing their drinks.

        “How the hell do you do that?” Antha insisted, amazed that their friend appeared.

        “Uhhhh, never you mind—we can make bonfire plans later—its ten o’clock, I’m here and Bieber is playing! GET UP!” Zoey declared, the glitter from her eyes dusting every surface.

        “Keep an eye on my friends.” Antha told Franco as she abandoned her books to be dragged to the floor. This was the moment she decided she was getting them all out of there; she didn’t like the sound of a bonfire with him and she certainly wasn’t allowing Tessa to go on her own either. She sent a pre-written text message to Doug: “Get here.” Which was their code for its really going down, I need back up.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @plastic-heart @myraiswack @wolfpawn​