#[ out of character / salt ] i thrive best in it

[aworldofyou]

Whoever sent me the anon ‘warning’ me about people, Don’t. I don’t get involved with petty drama. And I ESPECIALLY don’t condone putting out peoples names with big accusations just expecting me to hop on board.

If you don’t like this person fix your shit by blocking that person and don’t involve me, don’t involve others.

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

SPY × Family: Chapter 93 analysis

this is my first time doing something like this, and I'm no expert so please take my analysis with a grain of salt! all of this is my own theories, so you might disagree with me. please don't be mean, though (also, long post incoming!)

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 UNDER THE CUT

The chapter opens with the Eden kids getting the results of their marks, with Anya's...

overall rank shooting up, from 213th to 168th. Showing how she's slowly adjusting to the school and its pace of learning, despite being younger than everyone else (and, also, presumably doing extremely advanced things.... I remember seeing the pythagorean theorem on the board once in the anime)

Damian got highest in History (good job, buddy!), and Anya got second-highest in Classical Language (the one exam she genuinely studied hard for). But what I want to focus on is her expression:

Shock. She'd put up that front (that fake-face, if you will) in front of Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen, pretending to be all cool and suave but when she sees her results, she's genuinely surprised to get good marks in Classical Language. And even her excited reaction. She was scared of disappointing Twilight (and maybe even Sigmund and Barbara) because she'd genuinely worked hard for this exam, tried to understand, and gave it her best attempt.

But, then, it all comes crashing down with her 24 points in math: but a win is a win!

Maybe this is Twilight's turning point in the fact that acquiring knowledge can be interesting, exciting, and not just a tool of survival? Twilight himself doesn't have a great relationship with studying, (see: his father scolding him as a child for not studying, later: his friends dying because he didn't know enough about the campaign they were going on... but Twilight's relationship with knowledge and its pursuit is a whole other post in itself).

Honestly, him realising that Anya is actually thriving in the setup where education is fun for her, opens up two new avenues:

Twilight himself trying to make learning fun for Anya (unlikely, he tried that before... it didn't work.)

Him leaning on Sigmund and Barbara to tutor Anya (this seems more likely- Endo is probably going to cement the Authens as recurring characters, so them being Anya's surrogate grandparents/neighbors/tutors would seem like a great way to do so!

And then...

My main focus is on the fact that he mumbles this (also his face. But that's irrelevant). Twilight may claim, "I don't understand children", but he's an extremely perceptive man. As much as I love to clown on him, he's highly skilled at picking up on cues of people's feelings. The few times he's failed are mostly due to Anya's shenanigans trying to hide her telepathy, mixed with his usual flavour of overthinking.

But the couple of things he knows about Anya are this:

She was probably raised in an environment where Classical Language was used.

She's not fond of talking about or remembering her past.

Which is why he didn't have the heart to fully sound out the question. In the case of Anya, this is an extremely delicate matter, and he doesn't want to upset her (or, in his words, "ruin Operation Strix.") The way he asked the question and it's portrayed made it feel like he'd been pondering on it for quite a while (which he has; since the beginning of the Cruise Arc), but more so usually. Most likely due to her high marks in the Classical Language tests (aka a dead language), and the fact that she got excellent marks in it, despite formally studying it for less than a year (at least, as far as he (and we) know.) He's been thinking of the possibility, and also thinking of a way to ask her. In the end, when he does ask her—

she lies.

and he lets her. (at least, that's my interpretation)

Obviously, he knows she's not ready to speak about it yet (though we know it's probably connected to her telepathy, so she's not ready to divulge that info).

Look, as much as I love talking about how clueless he is with his own feelings, in this scene, he was just... perceptive? I don't know if that's the right word. But he was trying to keep Anya happy, and bringing up this complex topic without ensuring proper care for her wouldn't be fair to her. And he knows that. So, he leaves it at, "Just forget about it, okay?"

This entire scene felt so... tense, and in itself felt like a fucking gut punch, so I don't know how I'll react to the reveal.)

And now, onto the main focus of the chapter:

him.

If I'm being honest, I thought Demetrius was, like, 16-19 (judging by his voice in the anime), and not... fucking twelve.

Honestly, that just makes his character all the more tragic: he's barely a teenager, and yet... he's going through this. From his awards ceremony, we can see that he got, what, 6 stellas? In addition to the eight he's gotten to be an Imperial Scholar, and if he performs this well in every exam... bro is literally hoarding the Stella supply of the school (sorry, bad joke).

But...

this panel comes up. It's definitely not Anya's telepathy malfunctioning, (heck, it works on Bond and even penguins). Honestly, I think, again, it could be one of two things:

He was experimented on, like Anya

He was trained, (most likely by Donovan), to keep his mind blank.

We're told that he and Donovan had an extremely close relationship:

This could be in support of both the theories: it could be Donovan checking up on his "experiment's" progress (a crude term to refer to him), or, it could have been him subconsciously training Demetrius to hide his thoughts, keep them safe. Anya's project is connected to Desmond's administration, and at the time she was "made", Demetrius would have been around 7 or 8. Old enough for him to figure out what he wanted to have been in life (ofc, that's different for everyone! It takes time, and 8 is an extremely young age to figure out what one wants to do). But, like, how Damian wants to be a politician, it's most likely that Demetrius, the prodigal, studious, first child, would have to follow the path of politics laid before him.

So it could have been Donovan teaching Demetrius to protect his sensitive thoughts from the "weapons" he himself was making: the test subject(s) of Anya's project (again, a crude term to refer to them). Donovan was putting a lot of faith into creating telepaths (most likely for covert work), and them having unwavering loyalty to his administration was not very likely.

And, even if Anya's project was the work of another administration or even country, there's no doubt that Donovan would want to keep his thoughts hidden from these kinds of spies: ones than can see into your very mind, especially if the world is at war: a physical battle or a war for information.

The first theory of Demetrius himself being a test subject is probably Not What Happened; so I think it's probably just Demetrius being trained to keep his thoughts hidden.

But then, we get some of his thoughts:

Which is a lot reminiscent of:

So, it's probable that Demetrius imbibed this from his dad.

It's honestly a bit scary to see how Donovan's "parenting" has affected him: for him, age 12, to be like this.

After this, the chapter ends lightheartedly: Anya trying to emulate Demetrius, and Loid Being Tired™️.

I'm mostly curious about Demetrius: I was so excited when he was finally revealed! But I hope we get to see more of his thoughts, soon. Especially more about his relationship with Damian. But, this chapter was fantastic!

(This was super fun to do- if i do posts like this for chapters as they come out, would you all like it? Again, I'm not an expert in psychology (or even analysis). It's just me and my silly lil thoughts. I hope you liked it!)

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

He can't be FR 😭😭

NOPE. NO. Nu-Uh. No no no no.

Nonono. No No No. Nopedy nope.

No. No no no no no no. NOPE.

NOPE.

(Edit : The account is most likely fake, since apparently both Sam and Elliot don't have TT account. The bts videos was also in Elliot's IG so let's take it with grain of salt)

Okay look. As much as I want the boys and girls to be happy and thrive and live on, I want something BAD to happen to them. Hear me out.

OG!Makarov (for those who don't know...) was such a destructive force. He single-handedly started World War 3, nuked cities, took down NATIONS. He was the literal ultimate enemy.

For the last two games, Barkov was not the best villain (yes he invaded Urzikstan but he only appeared in very few scenes), while in MWII we literally only chase Hassan around, like Valeria and Graves were a better villain (they were not the supposedly main villain).

MWII lacked the grit and guts that the OG!MW had. OG!MW did NOT hesitate on taking down cities, nations, and most importantly they DID NOT hesitate to KILL OFF characters or at least let something BAD happen to the characters. Like for instance, in the end of OG!MW2, Soap fucking got STABBED IN THE CHEST by Shepherd. NOW THAT IS THE SHIT.

(+ there are dramatic quick time events. BRING BACK QUICK TIME EVENTS)

Again, for those who don't know, OG!MW3 ended with ALL of 141 dying except Price. Yes you read that right.

Now, what I would want to see is for the reboot!Makarov be the destructive force that he is. Take down cities, nations. Kill people without remorse. SHOW US that he is indeed the ultimate enemy. How?

Let bad things happen to the boys. Let 141 FAIL. Not the "oh we fail, try next time." But the "people-fuxking- died-critical-consequences-perilous-dreadful-we FUCKED UP" Failure. The failure where you can't go back. The failure that has timely consequences. Where it's irrevirsable.

Let them fail, and then let us see how they cope with failure. Let us see how they come back together. Let us see a development on the characters on how they should face this archenemy.

Who do I think would die?

I have one person on my mind.

Kate Laswell.

Imagine 141 without Laswell's voice to guide them. Imagine a mission without Laswell's voice of reason. Voice of security that everything will be fine.

Imagine Price losing Laswell.

Now that is a version of Price that I would want to see.

This campaign will be interesting...

[homunculus-argument]

There's this trope in fantasy books (and I think some older sci-fi, too), where whole families of characters all have some same distinct personality trait in some shape or form. I mean yeah they do that with physical appearance too, with everyone from House X being tall and blonde while everyone from Y is dark-haired and skinny, but I started thinking, the reason this happens irl - though to a smaller extent - is because it's hereditary.

Things like ADHD and being on the spectrum appear in families because some compontent to it is inheritted.

Imagine how fucking funny that would be to be put into a fantasy story. A whole family, House or clan of people who all seem to have the same kind of personality, who don't even question that there's anything unusual about the whole family leaving the dinner table halfway through a meal because someone remembered seeing something in the garden and now they have to go check it out right now or everyone will forget

Or a whole family of cautious engineers, artists and handcrafters, who each one have their own career they're more passionately invested in than any other mortal possibly could, famed for being both incredibly blunt but also honest - every client worth their salt knows they're not rude on purpose, you're paying for their work, not good manners.

And then there's some one specific kid who's born into a family like this and Just Does Not Fit In with their siblings and cousins - who doesn't seem to develop absolute fixations on tasks and subjects that they passionately love, and doesn't seem to thrive in either chaos nor require a perfectly predictable and punctual environment to work. The rest of the family does their best to push his buttons to make him work like everyone else, but there is no buttons.

So someone sits this kid down like "look son you're free to do whatever you want in life, anything at all, but you have to want and do something", because the idea of someone not being fuelled by one specific goal and desire - the kind that makes you stay up until 3 am to work on it unless someone comes in and physically stops you - isn't an option anyone in the family has considered.

And this poor mf is like "I don't know what's wrong with me, why can't I be like everyone else ó.ò" and instead of being somehow special or magical, or even have something actually wrong with him, this poor kid is just neurotypical.

[artzychic27]

In one of your Marinette salt posts, you mentioned that Ladybug criticised Nath and Marc’s comic for not making her perfect and her sycophants attacked their houses? And in the favouritism AU, the comic is strongly pro-Chat? I was wondering -

1) what is the comic actually like in that AU? The storyline, characters etc.

2) How much worse would favouritism!Ladybug’s reaction be to Chat being the centre of their admiration instead of her?

1. Rather than paint Chat Noir in a bad light like Ladybug is doing, it highlights all of the best moments people don’t see- Like comforting children after Akumas, patrolling the neighborhoods that get robbed during Akuma attacks, and at one point, almost cataclysming an abusive dad. (Anyone remember that Superman comic?) It gives some insight into Chat Noir’s thoughts- nothing personal- just how he feels like he’s second rate to Ladybug and is always in her shadow when they’re meant to be equals. There are mostly original characters, original Akumas, and Chat Noir finds a small group of his supporters who actually see the good he’s doing. He visits them during nightly patrols, and they point out Ladybug’s toxic behavior while assuring him that he is a good hero. They eventually become his found family, because in the comic, Chat Noir’s dad is a dick… So, not too far off from canon

2. Oh, she’d be a nightmare. She thrives off of admiration, and without it, she’s just gonna be a pain in the butt. Letting Chat Noir handle akumas out of spite and then showing up at the last second to do her Miracle Cure and act like the hero. She’s not even doing herself any favors by berating dealumatized people for “losing control of their emotions.” She intentionally puts Chat Noir in harms way and then blames him for being so reckless

[watchmakermori]

rereading The Bedlam Stacks: my feelings six years on

until recently, I'd only read The Bedlam Stacks the once - back on release, within the span of a few days. I'd enjoyed it at the time, though not nearly as much as my beloved Watchmaker, so I thought it was time to go back to it and see how my feelings on it have changed.

back in 2017, I recall enjoying the first third of the book a lot, finding the middle section a bit slow, and thinking that the ending was a bit sudden. Having reread it again, my thoughts are similar in some respects - I still think that the pacing is strongest at the beginning, and hits a sluggish section once Merrick gets to Bedlam. My feelings on the ending are complicated, because part of me thinks that it's missing something, but part of me thinks it has the best conclusion of any Pulley book so far.

Bedlam is a difficult book for me to critique. There is so much that I love about it, so many isolated scenes and concepts that stick with me, and the prose is fresher and more beautiful than I remembered. The scene where Raphael turns to stone for 70 years is so beautifully, horrifyingly handled. The markayuq are a haunting, fascinatingly original concept. Merrick and Raphael, while hitting a lot of the classic Pulley duo tropes, stand out in many other ways - the fact that their romance is only implied, and left somewhat ambiguous, is actually a novelty against the context of her other works. They also feel more...mirrored than other Pulley pairings? Most of her romances seem to thrive on difference. Differences in class, in race, in intellectual standing, in physical strength. And obviously Raphael and Merrick have some of that, but they're also markedly similar in a lot of ways. Even though Merrick doesn't have Raphael's strength, he does have the memory of being a much stronger and healthier man. Both characters have a past of physical violence, and they are both shown to be capable of it in the narrative itself, as with when Raphael shoots the passing traveller and Merrick strangles Martel to death.

Their relationship to disability is also similarly mirrored, because both of them are haunted by old versions of themselves. Raphael is watching himself turn into a markayuq, feeling himself lose time and mobility, knowing that his transformation is impending and inevitable. Merrick also knows that he will never again be the man he was before his leg injury; he has to adjust to it, to work around it and accept that it has changed him. The acceptance of inevitability is a really interesting theme in Bedlam, which feeds all the way through Merrick and Raphael's central friendship. They don't really get the best of anything - they meet under bad circumstances, for less than a month, and they will never have enough time together due to Raphael's condition and a thousand other factors. But that doesn't mean that their friendship isn't worth something, that it isn't immensely precious.

So there's a great deal that I love about Bedlam on a thematic level, but I do think that the actual plotting of the book is quite weak overall. There are lots of isolated scenes that I love, but the connecting tissue is somewhat thin. The middle of the book involves a lot of waiting - waiting for the snow to clear, waiting for Clem to return, waiting for Raphael to tell Merrick the truth and take him beyond the salt line. Merrick does not have a great deal of intentional impact on the narrative, so it does often feel like you're sitting around waiting for the plot to come to him.

That's not to say that the plot needed to be bolder or bigger. It didn't need to focus more on the search for quinine. Honestly, I don't think high-stakes drama is one of Pulley's strengths - her forte is small interpersonal conflicts between select units of characters. In Watchmaker, the conflict and stakes don't really come from the lurking bomb threat or the police investigation - it's about Thaniel struggling with his own desires over the impulse to do the 'right' thing. Grace represents a more conventional path for him - a wife, a house, a future with children, and the money to look after his sister and nephews. But Mori is who he actually wants. And those warring desires come into greater and greater conflict as the story moves from beginning to middle to end. Thaniel's goals are not static.

But in Bedlam, there isn't that same sense of escalating tension and raising stakes. Merrick has his reservations about Raphael and whether he is dangerous, but ultimately, those reservations don't really change the decisions he makes. So much of what happens feels like it was always going to happen, which means that a lot of the tension feels somewhat...inorganic. Intangible. There isn't even the threat of discovery for most of the book, because Raphael knows exactly why Merrick is in Bedlam and Merrick makes no attempt to hide the truth. He keeps quiet about the threat of the army, but even if Raphael had discovered it sooner, it doesn't feel like it would've materially impacted how the story played out.

So it's a hard book for me to articulate my feelings on. The themes and concepts and characters and isolated scenes are excellent, but the story feels - just slightly - like it is less than the sum of its parts. At times, it seems more like a series of episodic events than a narrative, even if those episodic events are still deeply enjoyable.

But the ending is immensely powerful. The melancholy and the joy of it. The simple devotion of Merrick being there when Raphael wakes, 20 years later, with a cup of coffee - which was what Merrick had gone to make when Raphael first went into stasis. It is simultaneously an act of mundanity, and also an act of incredible loyalty and dedication - and love often does shine brightest in those small moments of devotion.

A while ago, I was lamenting that Pulley only ever gives us happy, cosy endings rather than something more tragic and bittersweet, but I don't think I was actually accurate on that. The conclusion of Bedlam is desperately sad, for all its loveliness. Because while Raphael and Merrick are reunited, we can't know how long they will have together. The story denies us that knowledge, that closure, by ending just as Raphael laughs.

I'm so glad I reread it. It is a bit of an odd fish next to all of Pulley's other works, and that makes me appreciate it much more with retrospect. This reread also reminded me, on a more general level, of everything I love about Pulley's writing - the sublime weirdness and the quirky characters and the nonchalance with which she handles speculative elements. For all her flaws as a writer, nobody is doing it like her, and I truly cannot wait for The Mars House.

[ashpkat]

can we talk about this cover? besides the fact that it’s my favorite cover of the series and gorgeous but also the contents of the cover

first off, WHERE ARE THEY? there’s not a place in the magisterium that looks like this, i suppose you could argue that it’s the elemental prison, but i don’t think it was described like that? and i remember in someone else’s post, don’t remember who, that it looks like european architecture (which. don’t fact check me.) and going with that at the very least this isn’t the magisterium and is somewhere else in the world entirely, does this potentially mean The Bronze Key we got was not the original concept at all?

to add onto this! let’s talk about the knife calls holding. it isn’t miri. i suppose you could attribute the odd design to the fact that none of them are consistent in the covers, but the one thing that throughout books has stayed the same is the design of Semiramis. it gets used several times for chapter headers and ALWAYS looks similar and or exactly the same. and at the very least, if the knife he’s holding was meant to be Semiramis, don’t you think they wouldn’t have curved the blade? kept it straight? here’s my conclusion, the knife he’s holding is The Cosmos Blade. the original title for The Bronze Key.

but.. why? why does the cover not align with the book? this is the ONLY book it happens in.

(with the sort of exception of The Golden Tower, my friend has a theory that it’s aaron on the dragon and not alex and they resorted to just making alex blond in the book but. whatever not the point because there’s not as much evidence)

and the original translated synopsis— which might be fake and i’ve never confirmed as real so take this with a grain of salt— does NOT match up with the book at all. could it be that more than midway through the book they completely scrapped the idea? opting to go with The Bronze Key to fit with the metal theme? could this explain why the cover took so long to come out? there’s more i want to say on this but i cannot find the words for this.

i don’t doubt that through the production of a book ideas will change, but let’s talk about when these changes occur. unlike with small changes like The Copper Gauntlets change from The Copper Mask, this change actually is huge. because in TCG, a mask IS mentioned, constantine’s mask. but in The Bronze Key, not even a passing mention on anything that could remotely be The Cosmos Blade is mentioned. and let’s talk about the under use of european mages, yeah it gets sort of explained why they hate makaris in The Golden Tower with maugris but let’s not forget! maugris was implied to be improvised by the authors.

there are tumblr posts from the authors mentioning the european mages, saying that yes they would get mentioned in the third book or at the very least the fourth one, posts that just BARELY predate The Bronze Key.

this post isn’t me being sour that aaron died in TBK, because let’s be honest here, he was always going to die. nor is this me being sour that calron was never canon, because i could care the fuck less if it was (my main issue with callmara is how underdeveloped it is and how it totally watered down tamara’s character to a love interest like they did with celia. im a callmara fan, but everytime i read it in the books I GAG).

this is me being sour at the AUTHORS for choosing to devote more time to their already established and more popular book series. they had too much on their plate. they chose to opt for a potentially more simple plot for time purposes with each book having less and less pages. they needed better time management skills. they are NYC best sellers and yet, and yet, these final three books are lack luster in quality as their own series thrive and continue to climb in popularity.

so yeah. justice for The Cosmos Blade.

[spectralscathath]

number 22 for the salt thing

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

idk if the whole fandom sleeps on this but like, the bits of the fandom I'VE seen have, and no fandom was specified for this so I’m gonna come out and say it: I like Endeavor’s arc in MHA. I like that he is a toxic, abusive father, a terrible husband, and just kinda the worst, and, key point here, I like that he figures out that he’s a bastard and realises ‘oh shit I need to do better’ and then has No Fucking Clue how to do it. Do I think it’s handled perfectly? God no, there’s problems in the writing, always will be. But I think it’s interesting, it’s intriguing, and that while I do understand people hating Enji for his actions and stuff, I think that flattening him down to just a one-note abuser actively robs the storyline of a complex and fascinating character.

I think my favourite thing about it as well is that Enji fucks it up constantly. He has no idea how to be a father, he has no idea how to be a civil human being, he knows how to be a hero in terms of doing the work side of the job (such as having the most solved cases on record or his agency focusing on all areas of heroism instead of specialising), but he can’t for the life of him be an inspiration or a leader. He’s self-centred, he’s hard-headed, he’s mean, he’s hot-tempered, he’s proud and ambitious, he can’t handle a single conversation without resorting to gruffness and intimidation, and these are flaws that he has baked into himself for decades, of course they’re not gonna just go away. I want to study him under a microscope, honestly. Here is a character who has so completely defined themselves by two things: being perfect at their job on paper, and being second best. And then, all of a sudden, for the first time in his life. He comes first. But not by any of his own merits, his hard work. Nope. He comes first by default. And he hates it.

But, then that lil finicky bit of his perfectionism comes into play, and now that he’s been handed the title that he’s spent so long trying to take, even if it isn’t how he wanted it, he’s still that stubborn fuck who’s gonna do his goddamn job, so he starts actually trying to figure out how to be what All Might was, and isn’t that so interesting, the duality of flaws? How his need to be the best made him a monster, and then, when circumstances changed, it set him on the road to try and atone. And I do mean ‘atone’. I’m definitely in the ‘this is an atonement, not a redemption’ camp. It's mostly semantics, and I’m definitely not up to date on the manga so god knows if it’s gonna get pulled off, but man, if this landing is stuck, I’d love it.

Following on from that: I’m absolutely on team ‘none of the Todorokis die at the end’. I think the best ending for the Todoroki family is that they all live, and they all keep getting to have interesting and different interactions with each other. Because the reactions to Enji from his family are the other best part of his arc. Stories thrive on drama and conflict, and this man is a walking fusion generator of the two. Rei wants nothing to do with him for good reason until she needs to work with him to help their son, she has her own demons to deal with as well. Fuyumi is forgiving to her father, but that doesn’t mean she’s not still angry at him, she has her own reasoning for doing so. Natsuo would be happy if he got to live the rest of his life never having to talk to his dad again but doesn’t want him dead. Dabi is just swinging wildly between every emotion known to man with the dial turned all the way up, his issues are all standing on top of each other in one emo trench coat that’s currently setting everything on fire before anyone can realise there’s a person behind the nightmare. And Shouto is also in this complicated space of sorta wanting stop being angry, not for Enji’s sake but for his own.

If Enji was just a one-note character, the abuser using his hero status to get away with his crimes, then that would lose all the interesting interplay between the family. It takes all the teeth out of the Todoroki plotline. And Enji or Dabi dying at the end? Well, where’s the story supposed to go from there, it doesn’t fit, it’s a cop out for Enji’s plotline, which is all about ‘you are not allowed to escape the consequences of your actions, you must live to see the damage you have done and work to fix it’. Enji is a man defined by his need to work, and so work he must.

What a fun way to take a character. (Again reiterating that I’m not saying you have to like him but like. I think he’s very polarising for good reason and that often leads to people flattening him down into Pure Evil Abuser, and I feel like from what I’ve seen of the fandom, the interesting stuff about him gets lost in that.)

[jackalsprey]

The 516 Unit (May make this a series)

UM. So...

I may have been digging around @asktrio516's old posts recently, and I discovered an old AU of hers...a Detective AU... and NOW I'VE WRITTEN SOMETHING FOR IT. With headcanons of my own for the characters she didn't mention in that post. EMMA I AM SO SORRY. (And I have another post lined up that involves her ocs... sigh. I am so sorry Emma.)

Anyways - DETECTIVE AU! Not much happens here, I want to save the action for later installments, this is mostly a slice of life depicting the actual relationships and dynamics of the unit.

Oh for quick reference - ages!

Thomas: 24 -Edward: 56 - Henry: 28 (don't ask why I make him and Hiro so young XD) - Gordon: 42 - James: 38 - Percy: 22 - Toby: 53 - Duck: 31 - Donnie and Douglas: 34 - Oliver: 32 - Emily: 27 - Rosie: 23 - Hiro: 30 (not all of them are here, but if I make this a series, then they will be)

Sodor. A small, lush green island off the coast of England, filled with beautiful valleys, towering mountains, and quaint classical towns. It's a vacation hotspot and a thriving business center.

This also means its' crime rate is massive. The local gang, nicknamed the "Diesels" because of their habit of leaving oil on each of the places or people they've robbed, hit all over the island on a regular basis. And that means a cop force has to be in place to stop them.

And luckily for Sodor, they've got some of the best in the UK: The 516 unit. These brave men and women head out into the streets on the daily, ready to kick ass, save the day, and risk their lives to be the heroes the island needs.

Unfortunately, most of them also happen to be idiots, as demonstrated by Detective Montague "Duck" Pannier, and his partner and cousin, Oliver Swindon.

"Oliver, that is disgusting and should not be allowed by God. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion you'll be struck down by him in the next thirty seconds."

Oliver sighed, continuing to stir honey into his mocha latte. The two detectives stood in the unit's walk-in kitchen, it was an ungodly hour of the morning, and frankly, he had neither the time nor the patience for his cousin's bullshit.

"Duck, frankly, I don't give a damn. You be boring over there with your tea and leave me alone."

The blond pinched the bridge of his nose. "There are two ways of doing things, Oliver. The Great Western Way-"

"And the wrong way, I know, I know. And from where I'm sitting..." Oliver cocked his eyebrow. "You're doing it the wrong way."

Before Duck could respond by cracking his mug over his cousin's head (it was his favorite whale mug), the bickering was interrupted by the stern voice of one Gordon Gresley - the 6'2 wall of lean muscle they called their unit chief. Always clad in a blue suit and a pipe in his mouth, his salt and pepper hair neatly brushed, no one tried to piss the chief off unless they had a death wish. Especially not this early in the morning.

"Gentlemen," he sighed.

Oliver snapped to attention, while Duck simply turned around and leaned against the counter, sipping from his mug unconcernedly. "Chief Gresley, sir! What can we do for you?"

"Stop blocking the fridge, for a start," he grumbled. "Don't keep a man from his breakfast."

Oliver scrambled out of the way, while Gordon yanked open their beaten-up fridge and pulled out a carton of vanilla yogurt and some milk. He firmly believed in the idea of keeping as much calcium in your body as possible. The last thing he needed was for his officers to get broken bones. Popping the lid off, he made the rare choice to make small talk - about work, of course.

"Have you seen any of the others so far today?" He asked his detective duo. "I haven't heard anyone come in besides you two."

Duck shrugged, gesturing out to the maze of cubicles behind the door his chief had just walked through. "I saw Edward head downstairs to the analog systems. No clue why he loves those old things so much. Haven't seen anyone else so far."

Oliver scratched his neck. "The twins should be here soon. Douglas is just picking Donald up."

"Oh, of course you know just where Douggie is," Duck teased, wiggling his eyebrows and dodging the fist aimed at his ear.

Sighing, Oliver continued. "And I think the rookies are on their way as well, sir."

"Eager kids," Gordon commented, gulping down some milk and putting the carton back. "They piss me off, but they'll be good. Eventually."

The rookies in question were Rosita "Rosie" Davenport, Thomas Awdry, and Percy Wickham. They were all recent graduates of the police academy and had been serving in the unit for only a few months respectively. Thomas and Percy in particular were described as the "little shit nuggets" by the Scottish Twins, and had issues with following orders. Rosie at least was good at listening and could be trusted to not do anything stupid... most of the time.

Duck finished his tea with a sigh and put the mug in the sink. "Well, I'm off to work on the Diseasel case. You coming, Oliver?"

"Gimme a minute, gotta finish the coffee."

"That coffee is an abomination."

"Duck, you son of a-"

"Stop, both of you," Gordon sighed. "God, why can't Edward be around right now..."

=================================

Contrary to what the movies and TV said, most of the police work was paperwork and not charging into warehouses and criminal gang hideouts, though there was still plenty of that involved. Instead, most members of the 516 unit, who had since filed into the office in varying stages of tiredness, sat at their desks, filling out reports, sorting old files, and trying their best to stay awake. That last part was having various levels of success.

Finally, one particular agent couldn't stand it any longer - the Latino ladies man James Hughes. Tall, with wavy black hair that had a couple red streaks in the front, and always in a red leisure suit with black undertones, he looked sexy and he knew it. He stood up, slammed his laptop shut, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"If we don't get a new case in the next five minutes, I will jump out of the window after breaking it with Gordon's chair!"

"I think we'd all appreciate that, James," Oliver grumbled from his corner. "Jumping out the window, not breaking it and Gordon's chair."

"I don't give a fuck, I'm bored and I'm antsy! Give us a fucking case already!"

Thomas hopped to his feet as well. "I'm with James! Why is today so slow?"

Donald (or was it Douglas?) scoffed. "Ah, the action'll come latter for ye, laddie. Most days, bein a coppa's just this bullshit."

Douglas (or was it Donald?) nodded in agreement with his brother. "Aye. It ain't all shoot-outs and drug busts, lad."

And perfectly on cue, the sires went off, announcing the arrival of a new case. The loudspeakers came up with the voice of their PA, Emily Gallagher, giving them the update.

"Unit 516, I need at least two officers to respond to a 10-33 in Arlesburgh - it appears there has been another Diesel attack. Vandalism and larceny are the accused crimes."

"You were saying, gentlemen?" James cackled, already on his way out the door. "Yo, Thomas! You wanna get some action?"

"Hell yeah!" The younger man fist-pumped and followed him.

"Remember to call for-"

SLAM!

"Back-up..." Gordon finished, sighing heavily.

Just another day at the 516 unit.

======================

JESUS THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG. Once again, Emma, I am so sorry.

The AU and the designs in mind belong to @asktrio516, of course.

[boxingcleverrr]

Omg today I was reminded of the time I learned to ALWAYS take someone's bad celebrity story with a grain of salt, ahahaha

(like, obviously short of actual assault/aggression/refusing to meet marginalized ppl etc, I mean the "I met so and so and they were really short w/me D:" stories)

SOOO eons ago on WoW, we had a guild member who was...ergh. This person played a Male High Elf Paladin (tm) and did not grasp that Role Playing is collaborative storytelling. Like at ALL. She had this character come in like a wrecking ball main character energy sad cult boi ALL THE TIME, in our fuckin guild of Merry Misfits (Sepulchre was still technically a military guild at that point, but like. We were MASH, not SWAT).

And hey, we're a bunch of nerdy RPers, give us someone who's Too Much and we'll roll with it! Redemption arc? Anakin arc? Give us the meat to gnaw on!

She never did, though. She just had this character come in and Be Conflicted Angry Sad Boy and no amount of other people trying to interact would show any other aspect of this character, or express any interest in learning about yours. It was weeks and then months of RPing with a Sad Angry Wall who made our public Soup Kitchen nights really awkward, AT BEST.

Needless to say, this was very much the players personality as well. Being in chat with her was torture, if you just wanted to chat with your buds or shoot the shit. Naw, we had textwalls about how we were all min/maxing wrong, or the next public breakdown she was planning for Sad Boi.

A COUPLE of times I was elected, as the most tactful guild officer at the time, to take her aside and be like look. You need to be a little less rigid here, if you want to be in an RP guild, cause RP hinges on "yes and?" and give and take, and putting yourself out there, etc.

To which I would get, "Well this is how I am, it's rude to expect me to change, my other guilds were fine with it!" etc. And like.

If she was a flavor of neurospicy, sure, most of us were/are in that guild. But she was also a little older than most of us, and talked all the time about how she'd been active in other RP guilds? So this was not a new arena. She was a self-professed experienced RPer, sooooo...how did you get ANYWHERE in that space making characters you absolutely don't want to grow or be social in any way?

(silly question I know, shitty people who play sledgehammers THRIVE in rp communities all the time, buuuut usually for longer, cause they respond to what others give them AT LEAST A LITTLE!)

But I digress. Aaaaall that is just the context, lol.

One day we're talking books in guild chat, and someone mentioned Neil Gaiman. And of course, she pipes up with, "UGH I went to a Sandman signing once. He was so rude and dismissive."

In our voice channel, it's just me and a couple of others at the same time. And we ALL lost it at that. Cam was like, "Oh man I bet she tried to tell him something he'd done wrong..."

Literal SECONDS LATER in chat:

"I mean I felt like it was important to know he got ___ incorrect, but I guess the pretty girls in the line telling him they loved Death were more interesting."

"Are we...are we in an episode of Portlandia?!" My ex asked outloud, in our Japan dining room, no cameras in sight.

So yes I was just scrolling the man's asks and people noted on one, wondering if the man ever lost patience with some of the dumber and/or entitled asks in his askbox, and like.

Heh, I know at least ONE kinda person who probably made him wanna jump out a window. Cause I had to deal with months of them.

[aworldofyou]

say you’re a race traitor without saying you’re a race traitor

NOW? Was that REALLY Necessary? / Anonymous

I'm going back and forth on wondering how exactly I should take my approach on this because I knew SOMEDAY I was going to get something along this line. I don't need to go off one because I don't need to compensate for my pinned post, my discussions, or respectful way of approaching things, or my love of my culture. And I will never stop speaking out against people erasing it or people trying to speak for us, or MAKE SOMETHING OUT TO BE PROBLEMATIC THAT ISN'T? Or make narratives about issues that have nothing to do with actual indigenous problems. Because?? 95% of the time the 'movements' are always money grubbers using our VERY REAL ISSUES to fund themselves and never helping us.

And - when people are quick to make these claims or throw out false accusations it just goes to show who the REAL racist is here. Isn't that right, Anon?

[dillweedshole]

Why I'm making Asylum.

(uncharacteristic dillweed salt post? yup.)

Ultimately, a project like this can't thrive off spite alone, not a regular amount of spite anyway.

No. No no, I've read more than enough to feel out that LO does not care about a thing she does. Not anything from her silly little stories to her worst of crimes that she'll hide as best she can.

A woman without passion or care for any subject that doesn't put her in a good light. I can recognise she has real trauma, she isnt EVIL TO THE CORE!!! But she's taken the route of weaponizing her trauma and lashing out at anyone who even tries to critique her, or even just any ol person she just wants to lash out at. Everything to her is a means to an end.

Poke-Madhouse, LO's pokemon fanfic fyi, not only shows signs of those very things, but it's got legitimate promise. It has potential. That Ralts/Cala arc is unironically one of the best things I've seen come from her, and the fact we could have shit as good as that or even BETTER throughout angers me more than anything as a content creator. as just regular ass dillweed that shits fucking funny lmfao

LO has ultimately poisoned all of her works by making it all about her real life. She's taken the general saying "write from your own experiences" so literally it ruins everything she makes.

Asylum isnt just a way to critique Madhouse and LO's writing style, it's kind of like a fun little competitive experience for me. How do I make Bonnie make sense? How can I rewrite these characters to better fit my style? How do I deal with G's annoying nothing snark and make it either fun or actually kind of cool? I know we're not far in at ALL yet but I have ideas for the series. Bonnie's getting fundamentally changed, from why she exists, to how she acts, to what's going to happen to her. I have some original ideas i can throw in to the mix. Expect a meaningful, reoccuring Gallade character, and every character I explicitly mention for Asylum is going to exist (they wont be brought up way TOO in advance (Syir.)). G will suffer, and get a real name fucking CHRIST. Believe me, I know what I want from Asylum.

I do understand that some people may or may not be happy with the fact that I'm even doing this in the first place (jesus wait until LO finds out about Asylum lmfao) but this is both fun and a way to cope for me. I'm having fun, I get to see how I stack up to Madhouse, and I get to peacefully take out my quiet rage for Madhouse. It's still a parody so expect me to directly reference some of what happens in the source material, but I hope to make you excited, proud, maybe even a little giggly. I dont know. As long as you like it, I'm happy.

I like seeing the best in people and in their works. To see a story I know can be amazing constantly fuck itself due to creators too stubborn to make something that doesn't have weird stupid traits astounds me.

Bonus points if Asylum gets recognized more away from my little circle. Also, would be big huge winner sauce if someone had a full compiled Madhouse archive. the Violate arc is GONE. Nowhere to be seen.

[defense-witches-archives]

Defense Witches 2 Characters - Year 1

Hey everyone I guess I'll be sharing the new first-year witches that were introduced in this game :D I'll try translating their in game descriptions and names as best I can however please take these translations with a grain of salt. I'm using google translate and some of these give clearer descriptions than others >_<

Mint - Earth Witch (Main Character 1)

"It seems like she came from another space and time. A girl with amnesia. She looks a lot like Daisy. If there is a place being attacked my monsters, I can't help but defend myself. Innocent and friendly, she has great magic and can quickly become friends with anyone. A child who thrives when praised, a child who works hard. After all she looks a lot like Daisy."

Felt - Explosion Witch (Main Character 2)

"I come from the frontier village "Yubari". A serious transfer student - remains in some areas. A user of rare ancient magic. Because she did not recieve any formal magical education her magic sometimes goes out of control and causes trouble. I have a shy older sister who goes to this school. I'm always worried about whether she'll fit in."

Cornet - Former Demon King (Main Character 3)

"Annoyingly cute "Moto Daimaou" Through battles, she becomes friends with the magical girls, and in this work, she ends up enrolling into the magic academy. Although her noisy and selfish personality remains the same, she has a strange cuteness that you can't hate, very popular at the Great Magic Academy. Perhaps because humans have become more powerful growth has improved significantly. I love donuts."

Frill - Fire Witch

"A new student who knocks on the gates of the magic school with a strong admiration for Becky and Bianca. She has a superhuman will and talent and is able to use fire magic despite her family history of wind magic because she wants to use the same magic as Becky and others. The clothes she wears looks very similar to Becky's are cosplay costumes that she learned to sew on her own."

Tulle - Lighting Witch

"A new first-year student who passed the substitution exam. She hates studying, but her respect and admiration for magical girls is stronger than most people. She especially respects Chloe from the bottom of her heart and always asks her for special training for some reason. She is extremely gusty and doesn't give up on Chloe's spartan guidance."

Chiffon - Ice Witch

"She looks like a pretty beautiful girl. When she first entered the school, she was thought to be a cool girl, but she has repeatedly behaved in eccentric ways that you wouldn't expect from her looks and is now a total troublemaker at the school. She has a unique constitution where her emotions become violent when she drinks her favor food coffee and milk."

Velvet - Wind Witch

"A girl who loves money and is always interested in making money. When she goes on excursions to the mountains, she picks mushrooms, and when she goes to the seas, she devotes herself to fishing for saury. Her business spirit is unparalleled. She speaks in a number of south tones, but her birthplace is shrouded in mystery. There are rumors that they may actually be a member of the Feather tribe."

What's up with almost all the new girl's names being after some sort of fabric? Even the year 2 new girl (who I'll get to later) whose name translates to Cotton. Also got mixed feelings about both Mint and Daisy's character descriptions and the in-game mangas (which I'll also share) about their possible implied relationship.

Until someone comes along with better translations, this is what I got for now. Again, please take this with a grain of salt this is just what I could understand from the jumbled mess thats was google translate >_<

[alynnl]

Dragan Aesfrost: Founder of A Mining Town (AU)

So I have been thinking more and more about Dragan Aesfrost and the potential he had if he wasn’t in a tactics/war game and instead was in more of a city builder/crafting simulator type game.

So Dragan starts off doing his research binges in the Aesfrosti archives.  He shows great expertise about all things mineral: metals, gemstones, salt, the works.  Some of his findings start angering some of the Aesfrosti network of Croneys because it’d benefit the common people more than rich and powerful and level the playing field.

It’s peacetime and Gustadolph really doesn’t want any conflict, especially not internally.  So instead the Archduke sends his cousin on what he believes to be a fool’s errand.  He sends him off to conduct his research on a relatively useless hunk of rock that was once an iron mine, but has since been stripped of anything useful.

Dragan sees this as a chance to get away from the Duchy anyways and accepts his cousin’s “generosity.” At first he’s traveling alone, but over time he meets other like-minded scholars of Aesfrost who also had their studies undervalued, and wanderers who don’t have any other home to go to.

They somehow build a village on the relatively barren turf.  It’s nothing short of a miracle when they can actually grow hardy crops like carrots and potatoes.

Testing out his new explosive on the depleted iron mountain, Dragan discovers a mineral vein that was previously untouched by any human hands.

This is where the player character comes in.  They are one of the villagers that was there when Dragan announced his discovery, and they agree to help extract the different minerals and tap into the rest of the peoples’ expertise on what they should craft. 

Over time, as the player character finds more raw materials, has more crafts made, and they see the city grow and prosper, with more houses and buildings going up.  Between their many jobs they speak with Dragan and learn all about him, his family, and why he decided to take the risk and build something completely on his own from the ground up.  How he wanted to show what true merit looks like.  And now he has made something no one can take away from him.

Although he’s worked very hard to make something out of nothing, Dragan still feels like something is missing.  That something are his kin who still think fondly of him: his father Svarog (who is still stuck watching Twinsgate) and Frederica (who has just been married to Serenoa of House Wolffort.)  While he knows they have their own lives, he wishes to see them in-person, after being apart for so long.

The player’s last task is to deliver an invitation to each of them for a family reunion.   The next few days are spent waiting, where preparations of food, drinks and music must be ready for the guests’ arrival.

On the promised day, Svarog, Serenoa, Frederica, and their respective retinues arrive.  The atmosphere is warm, the feeling joyful, and the music, the best any of them have ever heard.

Dragan has a little too much to drink at the celebration, and acts a bit more forward as a result, praising Frederica for “landing such a good catch” in Serenoa and proudly claiming the future belongs to “all of us, standing here.”  He rambles further, but soon comes to sincerely thank all the hardworking people of his new town.  He hopes it will continue to thrive as they work together.  Everyone shares a toast to the future, hopeful that it will be a bright one.

[multistoty]

@wcrriorhearts

Once upon a time, there was a man as great as the gods,but even the great can tremble with fear.Even the great can fall. It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.Sometimes, the boy wished he never had to sleep. Sometimes, he found himself wondering that if he stayed very, very still, if he never moved at all, things would change. the prince thought that if he froze himself he could freeze the pain. If time stands still nothing can go wrong. Times like these he wish he could step outside of himself for a while. He wanted to leave this worn body behind, but the chains are too many, the weights too heavy.Truth is a jealous, vicious mistress that never, ever sleeps.Love didn’t end all at once, no matter how much you needed it to or how inconvenient it was. You couldn’t command love to stop any more than a marriage document could order it to appear. Maybe love had to bleed away a drop at a time until your heart was numb and cold and mostly dead.power comes infected with the only disease left to us: the virus called human nature. Innocence is doomed to die a senseless death at our own hands, a casualty of the mistakes we can never undo. So we lay to rest the wide-eyed wonder we once thrived upon, replacing it with the scars of which we never speak, too knotted for any amount of technology to repair. Wars were fought over the different interpretations of the same doctrine.He was afraid, but fear meant he was still alive. This was why love was so dangerous. Love turn the whole world into a garden, so beguiling it was easy to forget that rose petals were as ephemeral as feelings, eventually they would wilt and die, leaving nothing but the thorns. Pressed in his mother’s arms, he was broken and small, the butterfly fighting for life in the grass. He wanted to be woven and whole. To have his mother gain feathers to the wings expanded on her back. But he was a babe. Screaming and crying holding her as if she would disappear like a shadow in the night. How could the greens have murdered his brother? For there was no other way that Luc would not have come home. No way his mother would have been certain of the knowledge of his death. He wished daemon were here to take the brunt of his pain. To hold him like the father he had become. Calm was his normal breathing space, but who could know a child blinked out like a star missing from the sky and not break. The blanket of her unbound blonde hair brought a sort of shield around him. She held him like hope. Like a grudge. And he was sure his bruising touch was the shame. This was his idea. His creation of a fire to burn them alive. His brother. His best friend. The tinkle of laughter and the smack of wooden swords so far away. Being a first born had never felt harder. The sweat of his entry back on dragon back broke a sweat and made him smell world weary now the salt of tears broke blood vessels and pools sticking onyx hair to his face.It was easy to be good and kind in times of plenty. The trying times were the moments that defined a man. And love? Love was something that did much to change a person. It brought joy as it brought suffering, and in turn brought about those moments that defined one’s character. Love gave life to the lifeless. It was the greatest of all living powers. But, as with all things, love had a dark side to it. This game of power was one thing. Murdering an innocent child on a diplomatic mission was the kind of evil he found himself incapable of understanding. Incapable of a single bit of joy in the world outside. The whisper of his words were world weary, but he needed her to hear their honesty. “This isn’t your fault, mother. I pushed the idea. You could never have known that he wouldn’t come home. Luc couldn’t have.- I- I am not being very - princely am I- I just wish i could switch his place. He’s too young. To pure. It wasn’t his time.”

[annarellix]

ZORA BOOKS HER HAPPY EVER AFTER by Taj McCoy - EXCERPT

A heart-pounding, curvy romance about an indie bookstore owner who finds herself in a love triangle when she meets the author she's had a crush on for years...and his best friend.

Zora has committed every inch of her life to establishing her thriving DC bookstore, making it into a pillar of the community, and she just hasn’t had time for romance. But when a mystery author she’s been crushing on for years agrees to have an event at her store, she starts to rethink her priorities. Lawrence is every bit as charming as she imagined, even if his understanding of his own books seems just a bit shallow. When he asks her out after his reading, she’s almost elated enough to forget about the grumpy guy who sat next to her making snide comments all evening. Apparently the grouch is Lawrence’s best friend, Reid, but she can’t imagine what kind of friendship that must be. They couldn’t be more different.

But as she starts seeing Lawrence, and spending more and more time with Reid, Zora finds first impressions can be deceiving. Reid is smart and thoughtful—he’s also interested. After years of avoiding dating, she suddenly has two handsome men competing for her affection. But even as she struggles to choose between them, she can’t shake the feeling that they’re both hiding something—a mystery she’s determined to solve before she can find her HEA.

THE AUTHOR: Law grad Taj McCoy is committed to championing plus-sized Black love stories and characters with a strong sense of sisterhood and familial bonds. Born in Oakland, Taj started writing as a child and celebrated her first publications in grade school. When she’s not writing, Taj boosts other marginalized writers, practices yoga, co-hosts the Fat Like Me and Better Than Brunch podcasts, shares recipes, and cooks supper club meals for friends.

Social Links:

Author website: https://www.tajmccoywrites.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/tajmccoywrites Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the1whowill Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20626681.Taj_McCoy

Buy Links: Amazon Barnes & Noble Books a Million IndieBound BookShop.org Google Play Apple

EXCERPT

“Well, is he attractive? You know I don’t want no ugly great-grandbabies.” “Granny!” Zora laughed, pulling books from the stocking cart to arrange on the shelving display for the storefront window. The sun poked through the cloudy morning, threatening to scorch another early September day. Opus Northeast had been open for less than fifteen minutes, and its owner was already rolling her eyes. Silly her for making the mistake of mentioning the man who hit on her as she walked from her parked car into the store. “There’s no such thing as an ugly baby.” Granny Marion shook a ruby-red fingernail at her granddaughter. “Now, I know I taught you better than that. Ain’t no reason to lie, baby. You know good and well that the li’l girl two doors down from you has one, bless his heart.” Zora stifled a snort as she stacked middle-grade fantasy books next to some young-adult ones. Stories of witches, magic, and other worlds rich in cultural traditions and majesty. Running her fingers over the foiled titles of their hardcover jackets, she pictured her younger self staring into the window in awe, ready to devour each word in the safety of her cozy bedroom fort. Her parents would shake their heads in amusement before turning her loose in the children’s section. She’d beg to take home every new story that she hadn’t previously spent hours poring over, eventually convincing her parents to allow her a new armful. “That baby is cute. He just has a big head.” “Hmmph. I think the word you’re looking for is oblong. And why are his eyes so big?” Granny Marion widened her eyes until they bulged behind her wire-rimmed glasses, her taut brown skin hugging high cheekbones and a proud forehead. Her long, salt-and-pepper hair twisted neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck—a nostalgic reminder of her past as a professional dancer turned dance teacher. Every move of her petite frame flowed with grace and intention, even when she ridiculed their neighbor’s newest family addition. “Granny.” Zora squeezed out from the window front, smoothing her hands over her shapely figure clad in her usual skinny jeans, camisole and cardigan—today’s was hip length and plum colored. She loved a layered look, and her sweater matched her matte lipstick perfectly. “I’m sure he’ll grow into his features as he gets older.” She leaned down to kiss her grandmother on the cheek. “Remember, I had to grow into my smile—I had that awful headgear the orthodontist made me wear.” For her entire fifth grade year, Zora had been plagued with jeers and jokes about the metal contraption affixed to her upper jaw to help with her overbite. Her only reprieve was when she ate, but even then, her classmates would tease Zora about her protruding front teeth. She’d sit with her closest friends on benches outside to avoid the meanest kids posted up at tables in the cafeteria. Granny Marion kissed her granddaughter back, eyes sparkling. “Mmm-hmm, I remember. That gear gave you character. But there ain’t no headgear to fix a misshapen head, baby.” “Jesus.” Zora shook her head, unable to hide her smile. She grabbed Granny’s hand, entwining their arms, and led her farther into the store. “So what are your plans for today?” They walked past rows of bookshelves, display tables full of must-read paperbacks, and the checkout counter to a large corner filled with comfortable furniture for patrons to enjoy their purchases. Four-top tables lit with antique desk lamps were often filled with college students studying or local writers needing a change of venue. Against the farthest wall stood a coffee kiosk operated by a local Black-owned coffee shop and bakery. “I’m going to grab myself a latte and a breakfast bagel before I enjoy today’s newspaper.” Granny Marion visited the store daily without fail, only deviating slightly from her routine when the Kerri’s Coffee kiosk sold holiday-inspired treats and she craved a holiday spice latte with a splash of eggnog instead of her regular skim latte. From open to close, Granny was often the one constant, greeting patrons, playing with kids, sharing her favorite reads and best cake recipes and reading her morning paper. She set her newspaper down on her favorite plush, high-backed chair in the reading corner, winking at the barista as they neared the coffee kiosk. “Hey there, young man, how you doin’ today?” As they approached, Brian, a shy college sophomore, circled in front of the kiosk to wrap his arms around her. “Good morning, Ms. Marion. I’m doing good. How you doin’?” He waved at Zora. “Hey, Z.” “What up, B?” Zora slapped him five and grabbed her usual from the counter—a raspberry cheese Danish and an oat milk latte. Before she could grill Brian about his upcoming calculus exam, the bell on the front door jingled. She raised her latte in thanks, and left her grandmother to chat. On Zora’s way to the front, she picked up a folded paper towel from the floor and chucked it into a waste bin. “What’s this doing here?” Rushing in with several bags in her hands and flushed cheeks was Emma, Zora’s best friend and roommate. Her box braids were swept up into a high bun and framed by a colorful head wrap. Big hoop earrings barely skimmed the shoulders of her chambray dress shirt, which was tied at the waist over a colorful pleated skirt. “Girl. It’s already hot out there—I’m sweating! Now, don’t get mad. I know I’m late.” Zora bit into her Danish and chewed, waiting. “I’m not mad.” Ain’t nothin’ new. “It’s just that, I don’t even know how to tell you this…” She shoved her bags into a cabinet under the checkout counter, clenching and releasing her hands as she shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. Zora sipped her latte, side-eyeing her friend. Nothing was new about these antics. “Rip the Band-Aid off, Em.” She blew out a breath, grimacing. “I think I lost the inventory tablet. I couldn’t find it last night. It wasn’t in any of my bags or at home. I am so, so sorry. If we can’t find it, I promise I’ll pay for a replacement.” Emma wrung her hands. “I’m kinda hoping you can do your Zor-lock Holmes thing and help me retrace my steps.” Emma lost everything. Back when they were college roommates, she lost her dorm keys the day she moved in. She lost her car in parking lots, lost her water bottle at yoga, and lost good wigs on multiple occasions when there was no logical reason for them to have been removed in the first place. One time she lost her date, which Zora never let Emma live down. Emma tried organizing differently, or keeping a note on her phone so that she knew where she parked, but then she’d lose her phone. Their freshman year Zora spent all of her free time retracing Emma’s steps to find her lost items, eventually printing instructions to call Zora onto adhesive labels to stick onto most of Emma’s property for the next time it went missing. They used Emma’s number originally, but she lost her phone more than anything else that she owned. Chewing on a bit of Danish, Zora interlaced her fingers, pushing her palms out in front of her to stretch her arms before shaking them out at her sides. She tilted her head side to side, cracking her neck. “Okay, so you stayed to do inventory last night. What section were you working on?” “Cookbooks.” Emma bit her lip. Zora pulled her lips into her mouth, pressing them together as she nodded. “What did you eat for dinner?” “I bought a chicken wrap from Brian, but then I wanted French fries, so I grabbed some duck fat fries from next door.” The bistro next door boasted New American cuisine with a hefty price tag. “Ooo, I love those.” Now I want some. “Right? They’re perfection.” Emma brought her fingertips to her mouth, kissed them and splayed them wide. “Hmm.” Zora sipped her latte thoughtfully. This is too easy. “Did you check the bathroom? On top of the paper towel dispenser.” Emma frowned, hugging her arms over her stomach. “Why would I check the bathroom? This isn’t like that time I ate those deep fried Oreos…” Zora giggled. “I promise you, I wasn’t thinking of the day you blew up the bathroom. Honestly, I’d rather forget that one. Just go check.” In a huff, her friend turned on her heel, walking back toward the coffee kiosk. “Hey, B! I’ll be right back for my coffee.” The bathroom door opened. “What the— How?” Emma rushed back, tablet in hand, mouth wide open. “How did you know it would be in the bathroom?” She plugged it into a charger hidden behind the counter and grabbed the backup, which was fully charged. Zora sipped her latte, serving enough suspense to make her friend bounce with anticipation. “You had a chicken wrap and then ordered duck fat fries. You brought the food over to the cookbook section, but you always forget napkins, so you went to the bathroom. You carried the tablet with you, because you were worried you’d lose it. I found a paper towel on the floor next to the cookbook display.” “So much for keeping it safe,” Emma muttered, eyeing it like the device betrayed her. “It’s fine, we found the tablet, and now we can keep going through the inventory. Are you still on cookbooks?” Emma nodded. “One last shelf, and then on to travel.” “Okay, well let’s try to get through travel and self-help today? I want us to get through a full inventory sweep so that we can place our next orders and start planning out the short-story contest. We only have a couple of months left.” “You got it. What are you working on today?” Emma leaned against the counter, looking surprised when Brian brought over her cinnamon-topped cappuccino. “You betta stop flirting with me, B!” He grinned, walking back to the kiosk, as several shoppers wandered into the store. “I’ve got social media posts, graphics for event flyers, and I’m trying to nail down this author for a book signing in two weeks.” Zora logged in to her workstation, climbing onto her black mesh-back stool at the main checkout desk of the bookstore. Emma surveyed and greeted the guests, offering a friendly nod. “You know you could work in your office, Z. Take advantage of the peace and quiet? I can handle this out here while you get through some of that computer work.” “I know you can, but I like it out here.” Zora shrugged. Emma sucked her teeth. “You should be a professional people-watcher, girl.” She chuckled in response. “It’s an addiction. I really can’t help it!” Zora watched her friend turn toward the cookbooks, but not before giving Granny Marion some sugar. Squeezing the matriarch’s hand, Emma plopped a big kiss on her cheek before leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Granny chuckled and they slapped five, as Emma strode to the cookbook display, sat cross-legged on the floor and started reviewing inventory figures on the tablet. Z exchanged an amused look with her grandmother, who blew a kiss in her direction. Catching it, she touched the tips of her fingers to her cheek. She blew a kiss back and turned her attention to her computer monitor. After pulling up the bookstore’s calendar, she made a list of the upcoming events for the next three weeks, putting together digital flyers using templates she’d made previously. She added book covers and author photos to author event flyers, candid photos of regular customers highlighting some of their favorite reads that year, and a photo of Granny Marion reading to a group of children to publicize upcoming story time events. She dropped links to all of the graphics into her social media spreadsheet, where she scheduled out posts weeks in advance, complete with post language, hashtags, author account handles, and registration links. Such a Capricorn. Being organized was how Zora had gotten the business running smoothly so quickly. After her father died, she’d received a generous inheritance that allowed her to purchase Opus Northeast from its previous owner, Ms. Betty. A bookeller for decades, Ms. Betty had decided to retire and move to Arizona to be closer to her grandchildren. Betty had known Zora since adolescence, and she was delighted to sell her store to someone who loved the place just as much as she did. Zora took great pride in updating Opus Northeast in a way that invited the community to come in and stay awhile. After a couple of hours of events and social media planning, she moved on to email, deleting all of the spam before responding to emails from book distributors, patrons inquiring about upcoming releases not currently available for preorder, and local authors replying to her invitations for in-store author events. Looking down at her desk, she clicked her tongue at herself for leaving her breakfast sitting there as she worked. She had a habit of leaving food sitting next to her for hours as she zoned in on a task only to pick at it once it was cold. She popped the last of her flaky Danish into her mouth, as a new email hit her inbox. “Oh, my God.” “What is it?” Emma asked curiously as she advanced toward the counter, setting a fresh latte in front of Zora. “He said yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She lifted the latte to her lips on autopilot, humming softly as she took in the scent. “Thanks.” Her friend peered over her shoulder. “Is he who I think he is?” Stunned, Zora looked up at Emma, her brows furrowed in confusion. “He said yes?” “Are you having a stroke? I’m gonna need for you to use your words, sis.” Emma waved her hand in front of Z’s face. She couldn’t find the words. Her mouth went dry. Helpless, Zora pointed to her computer screen. Emma leaned forward. “‘Dear Ms. Dizon,’ blah blah blah. ‘I’ve spoken to Lawrence Michaels, and he would love to have an author event hosted at Opus Northeast! As you may know, he grew up not far from there, and he is excited for an opportunity to read an excerpt from Trial by Fire, which is also based in Northeast D.C. Following the reading, he can stay for a brief Q&A and a book signing,’ blah blah blah. Wow, are you freaking out right now?” It was no secret that Zora had been crushing hard for years on bestselling author Lawrence Michaels, whose newest installment of his Langston Butler mystery thriller series was selling like hotcakes, and word on the street was that the first two books in the series were being optioned for film. Aside from being a local star, Lawrence’s good looks were undeniable. “I bet he’s tall,” Zora murmured, grabbing his book from a pile of new releases on the counter behind her. Opening the book to the author photo inside the back cover, she ran her fingertips over the image of his clean-shaven brown skin, a hint of a smile curving at the edge of his closed mouth. A cleft in his chin and strong jaw led down the column of his neck to broad shoulders cloaked in a dark blue blazer. “Wonder if he has dimples.” Emma stared at her friend, pinging her eyes back and forth between Zora and the author photo. “I think you might need to break out the ol’ vibrator tonight, girl. This ‘hot for author’ thing is getting unhealthy. Look at you—you can barely string words together right now. What are you going to do when he gets here? Drool on him?” Zora swatted her friend away. “I’m fine. It’s just… I didn’t think he’d actually be willing to come here.” “Why? He’s too big and bad for Brookland? He’s from here!” Emma shoved her hands onto her hips. Zora pulled at one of her tight curls, coiling it around her finger. “You know what I mean. Folks like that set their sights higher than modest indie bookstores like this. And he’s from Petworth.” “He’s from D.C. And he could still be a total douche. Besides, when have you ever cared about someone having too much bravado to fit their big ass head through our doors? He’s lucky to be invited, girl. Don’t gas that dude up too much.” Emma dragged her fingers across her throat, deading the subject. She really should have gone to law school. She struggled to find the words. “I just— I’m surprised is all.” “‘Oh, Rexy, you’re so sexy.’” Emma quoted one of their favorite movie quotes from their college days—they’d scored a box of her sister’s old DVDs and binge-watched everything, but some lines stuck forever. Emma was forever quoting Empire Records, Center Stage, and The Cutting Edge. She curled her fingers into a claw and delicately pawed in Zora’s direction as she turned toward the travel section. Exasperated, she pursed her lips, still tugging at her curls. “I hate you.” “I heard that, heffa.”

Excerpted from Zora Books Her Happy Ever After by Taj McCoy © 2023 by Taj McCoy, used with permission from HarperCollins/MIRA Books.