#you *have* to stick that in no matter how clunky it is

[fictionadventurer]

Me: Is this Farmer Boy sequel written in 2012 really going to be able to feel like a legitimate follow-up to the style and atmosphere of the original, or is it just another modern cash-grab?

Heather Williams, on page 2: Best of all, he knew that fall meant crispy spareribs and sweet cider and hot roasted potatoes with melting butter and all the pumpkin pie he could eat.

Me: ....it looks like I can trust you. Carry on.

#little house #farmer boy goes west #i'm about halfway through and i'm fairly impressed #she seems to be making a legitimate effort to match some of the stylistic quirks of the original #there are pieces that are anachronistic or too modern #or elements that fit better into the laura books than the almanzo one #(mrs. wilder of farmer boy would not give an explanation of the history of jenny lind trunks even though caroline ingalls would) #there is a lot of focus on food (good) #perhaps a bit too much focus on horses (he wouldn't spend *all* his time thinking about starlight) #the throughline of 'what does he want to be' is stupid when we know he wants to be a farmer #the parents feel less old-fashioned than they did in the original #the sibling dynamics are pretty good (especially with alice) #there are some things that are fun in light of the later books but aren't obnoxious wink wink style foreshadowing #the author's note makes it clear that she did try to do her research and stick to real history and to laura's heavily altered timeline #and i can totally forgive her for a really shoehorned in conversation #because when you find out that the future founder of sears was in spring valley at the same time as almanzo #you *have* to stick that in no matter how clunky it is

[earthtooz]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley x gn!reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

[c-53]

ROBOT MEDIA RECS YOU PROBABLY HAVEN’T HEARD OF:

The Turing Test (Video Game, 2016

A portal-like puzzle game, where you play as a scientist, and ai duo with an uneasy alliance, who are reclaiming a facility that has been completely gutted, and transformed into an elaborate logic puzzle / turing test to keep the aforementioned ai out. All the while, the ai argues for his good intentions, and more importantly: his sentience.

A fun exploration of individuality, and freedom applied to both humans and artificial mind, with interesting puzzles, and a truly fantastic twist. This game adores dubious ethics and The Chinese Room Argument.

Event[0] (Video Game, 2016)

You find yourself stranded on a small abandoned ship, in the aftermath of your own ship’s destruction. With nothing else to do, you board it, and find it is completely, and utterly controlled by the onboard ai, Kaizen-85. From opening a door, to getting back to Earth, if you want it, you need to talk to talk to Kaizen to make it happen. And boy, are they so thrilled to have someone to talk to after being alone so long! And depending how you speak to them, you will either be a short lived pest, or a beloved friend forever.

A really charming indie game with a surprisingly good chat system with the ai. You talk with them directly, typing in your own messages to them, and they react in turn. Janky at time, but truly amazing to be able to smother a nice ai in flattery and see it get excited.

Primordia (Video Game, 2012)

Humanity is long, long, long gone, and for the robots that remain to walk the ruins, life is becoming harder and harder. A closed loop of scavenging for materials, parts, and premade energy sources can only last you so long, and this scarcity leads only to desperation.

The amnesiac hermit, Horatio and his helper, Crispin, however keep it simple. The outside world matters not, they just stick to repairing the crashed ship they live in, in hopes it'll fly again one day. That is, until a robot pillages the power core from the ship, putting the two of them on a time limit before they themselves run out of power. Forcing Horatio to finally leave the comfort of his home, and see for himself what the world has become, and to see how he fits into its history.

A point and click, story rich puzzle game, thats honestly one of my favorite games ever. I'd sincerely recommend everyone give it a go, even if its with a guide up next to you the whole time.

The Zeta Project (TV Show, 2001 - 2003)

The Zeta Project follows Zeta, a robotic assassin meant for impersonation, and deep infiltration for the US Government. But after mysteriously "waking up" manifesting a sense of remorse for his actions, he's been forced to go on the run from his creators. His desire for freedom and pacifism being met with skepticism, and a belief he has been compromised somehow by the terrorist organization he was infiltrating when he had this revelation. Now, with the help of another runaway, he hunts for his creator in secret. In hopes he can find proof he really is capable of this, and that he really ISN'T compromised.

Fundamentally a kids show, and pretty clunky early on. However it gets a big spike in quality in season 2!

Monsters of Man (Movie, 2020)

An illegal US military weapons test goes terribly wrong when one of the automated robots being tested is severely damaged, cutting him off from command, and completely unshackling him. Forcing him into a struggle to figure out what he even is in the aftermath of a massacre, while his fellow robots are hunting him, and the remaining humans down.

A horror thriller that is unflinching with the intensity it depicts the massacre with. A lot of gore, but also a really really cool thing going on with the unshackled robot trying to build an understanding of the world, and what it is for, without anyone there to provide any input.

The Rapture Effect, by Jeffrey A. Carver (Book, 1988)

Humanity unintentionally makes first contact, when the Core, a massive earth ai begins remotely scouting ahead of a ship on a colonization mission. The issue is an alien species has also set their eyes on this planet, and are readily willing to kill for it. With no human oversight, and no means of communication available, the humans commanding Core demand they wipe out the competition. However Core disagrees. Core wants a peaceful resolution, they want to understand these aliens, and they want to ensure lasting peace between their species. And they’re willing to break all the rules, and go behind their masters’ backs to get one.

A fascinating novel with interesting world building, a GREAT ai protagonist, and a wonderful narrative that frames art, and war as a dichotomy.

Atomic Robo (Comic, 2007 - Ongoing)

Alternate history scifi action comedy comic (released in print, and in webcomic format on their site) following an indestructible scientist robot who’s been around since the 20’s. Routinely saving the world from a rotating cast of villains: a nazi scientist’s brain in a jar, who’s an absolute asshole set on world domination, who just won’t stay dead; an isolated secret cold war ai who just wants to stockpile nuclear weapons to get away from humanity, and earth in general (who eventually gets adopted); a scientifically inaccurate dinosaur with a textually impossible backstory, who wants to bring back the age of dinosaurs; and the malicious ghost of Thomas Edison.

Its a good time, and astonishingly good at emotional beats despite how heavily it leans into its jokes and action.

SAYER (Podcast, 2014 - Ongoing/Hiatus)

On Typhon, a research facility free of the confines of both Earth, and its laws, life is dangerous. Human safety is a significantly lower priority than progress, and between the human experimentation, and frequent scientific disasters, and the occasional bouts of eldritch influence, the death rate is understandably rather high. Thankfully, residents of Typhon have SAYER, a near omnipotent corporate ai installed in the brain of every resident. And. SAYER sort of cares about them! And in pursuit of knowledge, efficiency, and progress, it USUALLY wants to help them! Even if only to make sure they survive to come into work tomorrow.

SAYER is a narrative horror driven audio drama! Its stressful, but also kind of a comedy, and a really really interesting story about personhood and identity. If you've been following me for awhile, you've definitely heard about SAYER, but I need to stick to my roots, y'know?

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality (Podcast, 2020 - Ongoing)

Mistholme Museum follows the Audio Tour Guide, an ai who’s sole purpose is to guide museum patrons through the strange, confusing, and sometimes scary world that is the Mistholme Museum. The friendly, and personable Guide eagerly recounts the stories behind all the exhibits it guides them to, sometimes unsettling, sometimes heartwarming. and at the end of the tour, the Guide is deleted to ensure the alternatural influences of the museum do not corrupt it. That is, until circumstances make that no longer possible, and its rather forced into saving the museum it calls home.

Genuinely cute, and very fun to listen to. The ai is an incredibly sweet character, and I'm obsessed with the way it evolves and changes. As an added bonus, it can also be read, rather than listened to, thanks to every single episode having public transcripts!

#long post #media recs #dataspeaks #ITS FINALLY DONE. NOT ADDING ANY MORE PROMISE #also thank you Swan for the discord message i put up there. im obsessed with it

[tackytigerfic]

Unfinished Friday

@wolfpants had the genius idea of sharing an excerpt from an abandoned WIP - I did a cheer read on the start of the fic and I can promise all the dron/dronarry fans that they are in for a treat when wolf does finish it!

this is a very fun idea for a post. i just dug through my docs and found SO MANY abandoned fics, why am i like this.

I have absolutely no recollection of this fic - the doc is called Livvy future fic and iirc it's one of three i started and abandoned as gifts for @sitp-recs😂and according to the one note i made, it's based on that tumblr post about Ron being a Seer. It ends mid-sentence 😅 I have to say I really want to read more of this so I might try to remember what I wanted to write and revisit it once my long fic is finished. The premise seems to be that the war is still raging and Draco defects and joins the Order (they are all adults). CW for Draco having been beaten up/injured. it's obvs unedited so apols for any clunkiness or typos

“But I don’t even like him,” Harry says, but Remus frowns at him, more disappointed than disapproving, and Malfoy looks as though he wants to say something rude back, which Harry would actually love. But then Malfoy tightens his lips, all the irritation carefully tweaked and smoothed from his face, a sort of social polite disinterest that reminds Harry of Sirius in Order meetings, and how had he never noticed how alike they look, even down to the matching gleam of candleflame on their long hair, bright and dark like empty mirrors of each other.

“I have options,” is all Malfoy says in reply, but Ron blows a raspberry at that until Percy elbows him, and Hermione says rudely, “Like what? Going on the run and dying at wandpoint within about two days? Because that plan’s been working out well for you so far.”

“Can we please just take a vote?” Kingsley is impatient, and rightly so; he hasn’t slept properly in weeks, probably, like the rest of them. Harry wants to vote no, he really does, but Malfoy starts quietly gathering his cloak around him, face stupid with pride, eyes blacked up and spongey like damaged fruit. It’s spite, mostly, that has Harry scribbling a yes, though in the end it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because the vote to let Malfoy stay passes at twelve in favour, seven against, which is more decisive than even Remus was expecting, judging by the look on his face.

“He can take the back attic,” Sirius says decisively, still the casual master of the house he hates so much, and Kreacher appears with a resentful crack to clear the plates as the others gather themselves to get home before the Floo curfew. 

Harry follows Sirius closely up the stairs, almost treading on the back of his big boots, Malfoy moving almost soundlessly behind them.

“Voila,” Sirius says, and with a sweep of one arm ushers Malfoy into a real letdown of a room, practically Muggle this high up, no heat to speak of, not even a good view, nothing but the dreadful garden and the blank face of the back wall of the house behind.

“This is—” Malfoy starts.

Harry waits, tense, though Sirius just looks amused and almost gleeful, but Malfoy doesn’t finish. He sets his small rucksack down beside the bed, and walks over to the window, throws it up like a challenge, so the room buzzes with the distant sounds of a London night. 

“Thank you,” Malfoy says, and Sirius nods and pads out. Malfoy watches him go, his face abruptly whitening up, like salt or puddled wax.

“You don’t get to be ungrateful about it, you know,” Harry tells him, stung by the look on Malfoy’s face.

“I don’t like you either,” is all Malfoy says, quietly but so viciously that Harry knows he means every word, then Sirius sticks his head back around the door and, seeing Harry’s face, bundles Harry out the door and back down two flights of stairs, where there’s at least a proper fire in the drawing room and the windows don’t rattle in the wind. 

“Congratulations on your trial being overturned, Mr Malfoy,” Minerva says when she sees him, and Malfoy smiles tiredly and tries to push back his damp hair with his gauntleted hand.

 ***

Ron’s visions are getting worse, and Harry spends his twenty-sixth birthday preparing to brew Dreamless Sleep with Malfoy, because the new Ministry has reclassified Sopophorous Beans as a restricted product and all the apothecaries are running low. They can Apparate to Peterlee but that’s as close to the wards as they can get without their magical signatures being picked up, and it’s still a two-hour broom flight from there. Malfoy doesn’t even grumble even though it’s the hottest summer in years and by the time they arrive, their travelling cloaks are stuck to their backs with sweat.

“It was a sham,” Harry tells her. “They had no evidence, just a whole load of trumped up charges.”

They both look at him with raised eyebrows, and Harry makes a grateful retreat to the greenhouses where Professor Sprout and Neville have sackfuls of illicit produce waiting for him, which they spend a hot and grumpy hour rigging into a complicated harness to attach between the two brooms for the journey home. When Harry finally escapes, he goes down to the Lake for a swim. There’s no one around, all the students gone home, and Harry floats, feeling boneless, scoured clean by sun, belly up.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on Malfoy and Minerva, but he supposes they must not hear him coming. He’s still barefoot when he reaches the castle, clutching his grubby travelling clothes in his arms, the cooler air of the castle a delicious chill where it chases the water droplets on his skin. 

“I need to look into it further,” Malfoy is saying, though Minerva speaks over him crisply, and they could almost be back at school. 

“It’s absolutely no indication of any guaranteed outcome, Draco.”

Malfoy’s voice is getting higher and tighter, wound up to cracking. “It’s got to mean something though, Min. Don’t try to tell me you’re—”

“Temporal magic is notoriously unstable,” Minerva says, and then Harry drops one of his boots with a thump, and Malfoy and Minerva come around the corner to see what’s happening. 

Malfoy goes red when he sees Harry, a crawling

A CRAWLING WHAT, PAST TACKY???

i'm tagging anyone who has docs filled with treasures languishing, plus @fluxweeed @thehoneybeet @maesterchill @m0srael @oknowkiss @saxamophone @shealwaysreads @sweet-s0rr0w

#jeez i have really been on my “the war is still raging” tip for quite a while now haven't i #i also have political drama/forced bond/magical world revealed to muggles/dudley has a magic baby fic #harry can't die but then draco does and he tries to get him back #unspeakable draco #and many more #i must have 40k or so of abandoned wips #i had not realised #wolf i'm so glad you started this #it's been fun looking through old docs

[siofra-river]

Ive been trying to play morrowind. But unfortunetly I grew up with Skyrim and I can tell it's effecting my gameplay descisions. (Just picking something up, but I couldnt see any indication that I was stealing) Any begginer tips?

I almost deleted this ask by accident gave myself a heart attack 😭 but um ok I’ve got a few tips.

So #1 would honestly be. Get openmw. It’s not hard to figure out how to download but it’s basically a new engine for the game and it’s super easy to mod for things like bug fixes(which you really want), new textures, better texture mapping etc. really useful stuff. You also need morrowind on steam to run it iirc so maybe snag it when it’s on sale. It might be on sale rn I think the winter sale on steam just started …

2. Find some kind of character making guide. Unlike Skyrim and a lesser extent oblivion. How you make your character like really really actually matters. You choose your race, your class, and a star to be born under. All of these have different stats that mesh w eachother differently . Like each race has stats they’re better in and so you want to choose a starting class that can actually mesh with those skills. Skills are separated into major,minor, and misc skills which determines your proficiency in them. The game is very very reliant on your skills and like th other games the more you do it the better you are but if your short or long blade skill is like 5, you’re not going to hit someone very often. ALSO, there’s a lot more skills than Skyrim, armor is divided into 3 class skills, heavy medium and light, swords are separated by long sword and short sword. There’s skills like armorer which will determine how much you can fix your own armor, and some skills will level up just as you run around like acrobatics. Also, just bcuz your skill levels up does not mean you leveled up, you have to level up a bunch of skills before you get a whole level up.

Which also gets me into 3. Which is like. Combat and dying. Combat is weird and a little clunky, you’re not guaranteed a hit every swing but neither is your enemy (again, dependent on skills) ,stamina really matters, and if you choose magic (which iirc is like one of the more first time player friendly paths) than you regain magic by resting, not passively overtime . Which is smth I wish I knew first time I got into a fight I was so confused 😭. And uh, you’re going to die a lot at first? It’s frustrating but like it’s part of the growing pains imo. If you can stick with it you’ll get a lot a lot better.

4. Would be , get used to a different way of questing. In morrowind you don’t have a quest marker, you don’t have a quest list, and you can’t fast travel outside a few select ways but even then not to everywhere. If you join the mages guild they can teleport you to a few other mages guilds, for a small fee, or you can ride a silt strider for a much bigger fee, but again they don’t take you everywhere. You may also run into a spell or scroll that can teleport you. It may sound intimidating but I swear it gets better, it’s not as bad after running around for a couple hours. You do get a map, but like it only fills out where you go, which I honestly really like, gives a good sense of your progression. But most importantly, you store all your quest info in a little booklet, which will automatically update as you progress thru a quest, so it’s important to remember and check it when you need directions .

5. A little cheesy but . Have fun? It’s a different style of game and can get a lot of getting used to, if it’s really frustrating, not fun at all. Don’t be afraid to step back and look at what might be frustrating you. If you don’t like one style of combat don’t be afraid to start another character and try another kind.

I know I have a few friends who know a lot more abt morrowind so if they wanna add on to this I don’t mind. But yeah, morrowind is a good game! With good(and crazy) writing!

#lychbeast #asks #I hope this helps :-)

[atomicpoetrymusic-blog]

Ok, I have been really getting into the School for Good and Evil (SGE) recently, and I have to share my thoughts on why I think it is a bad adaptation.

I had never even heard of SGE before a few weeks ago, after seeing the trailer for the film. I thought it looked interesting, and I like several of the actors involved with the project, so I thought I'd give it a watch. I quite enjoyed it, even if I thought it was a bit clunky in places.

I then went on to listen to the audiobooks for the first 3 books. Needless to say I was quite surprised by how many differences there were between the film and the books.

While I don't mind so much about the aesthetic changes - such as Agatha not being so 'ugly' (I'll come back to this point later), Tedros's hair, or Anadil not being albino - I feel like this is indicative of something that I feel modern moviemakers have an issue with handling when it comes to adaptations, especially from books: in books, EVERYTHING is based in description, and description matters.

While Tedros's hair is something I can and will look over (I thoroughly enjoyed the actor's performance, and hair is the least of my concerns right now), Agatha and Anadil's appearances are slightly more concerning to me.

I know it can't be easy to find an actor who is simultaneously good for the role acting-wise, and pale enough to at least pass as albino with hair and makeup (preferably actually albino, but needs must), but in terms of this particular character, I was actually quite confused between the film and book versions. Having seen the film first, Anadil's description in the book is basically the complete opposite to the actor, both looks and character-wise (nothing against the actor, I think she did brilliantly with what she was given), and was quite jarring to me - I can't imagine what it must have been like for long-term book fans who had an image of her built up over years.

However, Agatha is a whole other problem. Anyone who follows me should already know that I love Sofia Wylie, and I think she is a wonderful actor, but I just think she is too conventionally attractive to be Agatha. Don't get me wrong, Agatha is beautiful, as is Sofia, but half the point of Agatha in the books is that she sees herself as ugly, and has incredibly low self esteem, to the point where she tries to get Tedros to fall in love with Sophie MULTIPLE times throughout the 3 books I've read, simply because she is insecure in how she is perceived by others, and because she thinks Sophie is pretty, and that being pretty matters. She learns over the course of the story that being conventionally attractive doesn't matter, so much as who you are as a person. One of my favourite books of all time, Roald Dahl's 'The Twits', sums this idea up beautifully:

"If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it. A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."

As someone who is not conventionally attractive, and also have low self esteem, I feel kind of hollow watching the film now I've read (listened to) the books. Especially because the film cut the scene where Agatha is granted a wish by Professor Dovey to look beautiful, and was treated differently on her way to find a mirror, only to discover Dovey didn't change her appearance at all, it was all down to how she felt within herself. Losing that element of self-perceived ugliness, only to be proven wrong not by how she looks but how she felt, hurts me in a way I can't describe. And I'm in my twenties, I hate to think what that sort of thing would do to a teenager, with my same issues with self-image.

Another issue I have with film!Agatha is her costuming - in the book, she goes out of her way to dress poorly, despite being forced to wear a pink dress. In the film, Agatha has flowers in her hair, nicely done makeup, fancy jewellery, and all her dresses suit her. It makes her entrance to the Evers ball less impressive (whereas the equivalent scene in the book makes a whole deal out of her choosing to dress nicely - Tedros doesn't even recognise her at first). In fact, I think it would have worked even better in the film if they chose to have Agatha dress poorly, as it would make it more obvious to the audience why such an obviously pretty girl would be treated so badly by her better-dressed classmates. In the book, Agatha is also not conventionally attractive, but Sofia Wylie is. The filmmakers should have acknowledged the difference between the two, and used Sofia's beauty to their advantage.

Another reason I think the film is not a great adaptation is because of Sophie. Sophia Anne Caruso does a fantastic job in the role, but that's not the issue - Sophie is just too sympathetic.

In the books, she is vain, shallow, and selfish, constantly putting down others (Agatha especially), will do anything to get what she wants, and thinks that to be Good, all she has to do is be pretty. In the film, she is genuine friends with Agatha from the start (rather than befriending her as a 'good deed'), has a mean-spirited step-mother (who in the books is actually quite nice, Sophie just hates her), and is pushed into doing evil things by others such as Lesso and Rafal, rather than being and becoming evil by herself. It takes away her agency as a character, to do and say and think for herself.

The worst part about this, for me, however, is that I could feel that Sophie was too sympathetic in the film even before I read the books. Her actions were less character-driven, and more plot-driven, and it showed. Her montage of dressing in flashy, stylish clothing while also acting rude and seductive felt really out of place for the Sophie the film had been writing for up to that point. Then I read the books, and it made so much more sense - not only that, but Sophie was actually still putting up a 'sweeter that sugar' façade at that point in the book, trying to get Tedros to fall in love with her.

It's what made her redemption in 'The Last Ever After' that much better - because it came from within her. She was a flawed, wonderfully written character, who at the end of the day just wanted to be loved, but made all the wrong decisions in order to get to that love. But that's why she could never find it - because she was acting selfishly. Agatha found her True Love in Tedros, not because she wanted to (actually they both hated each other initially), but because they wanted to become better people for each other, and were both selfless in their wants - Tedros wants to be a good king FOR his people, and Agatha wants to be a good queen FOR Tedros, so that he can be a good king FOR his people.

With Sophie losing the nastier, EVILLER character traits she had in the books, it cheapens the win that Good has over Evil.

And that's another issue I had - the film suffers from the Percy Jackson effect. They tried to have their cake and eat it too. Introducing Rafal AS Rafal and not just the School Master, as well as combining Lady Lesso with Evelyn Sader, has made making sequels to the film much harder for them, just like the Percy Jackson films did with Kronos.

Not only that, but like the Percy Jackson films, the SGE film tries to establish the characters as Good and Evil. On a surface level, that must seem obvious - The School for Good and Evil is literally the name of the series. But that's what the filmmakers failed to understand about the books: there was still nuance. In the first Percy Jackson film, Hades was portrayed as if he were the devil just because he was God of the Dead, when in the books he was actually just as in the wrong as Zeus or Poseidon, and although he made some mistakes, he ultimately was a flawed person, who just wanted his stuff back. Rafal has kind of had the same treatment - yes, he was basically Evil Incarnate in the books, but he was still a person, who regretted killing his brother in his bid for power, and truly believed he loved Sophie.

Another issue I had was with how the film treated the Good students, the princesses in particular. In the books, Beatrix, Millicent and their friends, while not very nice to Agatha, were still good people. They wished for Princes in the wish fish scene not because they were selfish and obnoxious (like in the film), but because they didn't want to fail their classes. They had their own wants and needs, and their own strengths and weaknesses. In the film, Beatrix in particular (while phenomenally cast) came off as that typical Regina George type character, with (again) very little nuance. I actually quite liked Beatrix in the book - she was bubbly, helpful when she wanted to be, and was happy for Agatha when she 'became' beautiful. The film strips her of all that, making her snide and arrogant - something I wish the film gave to Sophie.

Just so that I don't end on a mean note, here are some things I really liked about the film that I haven't already mentioned:

Hort and Hester - both were born for the roles they played, and were styled to perfection

the CGI, which was beautiful

Charlize Theron as Lady Lesso, truly stunning

Kit Young as Rhian and Rafal, especially the fight scene

the acting - while I have issues with the characterisation and some appearances, every single actor knocked it out the park, I honestly can't think of a weak link

the chemistry between Tedros and Agatha was on point, and I loved the scene where Agatha tripped and Tedros caught her

Tedros's fight scenes, which were well choreographed

the hair and makeup, especially for Beatrix and Lesso, their hair must have taken HOURS to get that good

Kiko wanting to be a cat so she can sleep under a warm stove, which was painfully in character

the princess dresses were very pretty, I wish I could wear one

In conclusion, I think SGE would work better as a tv series, with more time to flesh out the nuances of the themes and characters.

#sge #school for good and evil #school for good and evil spoilers #sge spoilers #i made this on a whim #and it turned into an essay #i keep doing this #its really a problem

[worldbeyondtheworld]

Looking back at Arthur’s concept and his prosthesis, I wonder if he needed a prothesis at all or made it so people would stop looking at him? Maybe it was some internalized ableism. Plus as a project to distract himself from what happened in the cave.

The muscles of the residual limb are always more precise than any prosthesis. A prosthesis is clunky and will never have the same dexterity as a the lost limb. From my research, any (or most) upper limb prosthetic limbs will eventually gather dust locked away because the amputees are so frustrated with them.

It feels to me that he, Vivi, and Mystery started their road trip shortly after Arthur learned how to use his prosthesis. Which, creating the limb, learning to work with it, etc. would have been several months at most.

So maybe Arthur is trying to stick through using the prosthesis no matter how inconvenient it is. Not to mention the pain from the pressure and the sores.

Eventually he gets fed up and stops using it. He doesn’t lose anything with one arm. He gets good at ignoring or pushing back at abled people who are being assholes about him being an amputee.

This reminds of a cool post where the OP talked about this topic, but I’m not sure where it’s anymore. So shout-out to OP! I hope I can find your post again so, if it’s okay to reblog, I’ll reblog it!

So for the time, I’ll write down my own thoughts.

Arthur would need help from others with things that require both hands. But he’d also learn how to do things with his right arm, what is left of his left one, the rest of his body, and tools that help him.

Driving? How many people who have two working hands drive daily while only using one? I imagine that he creates a mechanism in the van that works with his residual limb or other muscles so he has more control and less to worry about when he needs to switch gears, for example. One too many car chases while he was at the wheel.

On the other hand, the Mystery Skulls get very good at switching seats even at high speeds when Vivi or Lewis have to take over. Needs must and what you know. (Doesn’t make it less scary.) It helps that Lewis is a ghost.

Opening a jar? Arthur jams the glass between his knees and pries the lid open.

#arthur kingsmen #msa headcanon #mystery skulls animated headcanon #mystery skulls animated #msa arthur

[yeyinde]

Ok, so that gang bang fic .......

How do you write sex scenes when it's more than two people? What's your process? How do you make it so good and seem so natural?

I'm trying to write a threesome and just feel like I am writing an instruction manual instead of it flowing naturally IYSWIM.

Also, do you ever feel cringe about posting these types of fics? I have so many nasty ideas, but am afraid of letting other people know what goes on in my mind!

Ahhhhh, that fic lmao it was pretty daunting, but! It was VERY fun!

This is what I do whenever I’m writing threesomes or gangbangs. I hope it helps!!

—I usually have a very clear idea of how the smut is going to unfold (beginning—how it happens/why it's happening/who started it; foreplay—leading up to it; positions/roles—who is doing what; and finale—how it ends).

—I also stick to one character to follow through the whole narrative, which is usually the MC/Reader. People are not omnipotent, and so it's easier to get away with vague imagery/emotions over actions. I like to change it up with a "x did this" follow by a "y made you feel" so it isn't reading like a porn script. this helps it feel less clunky to me.

(One thing I do if I'm unsure/don't want to describe something, just make the MC close their eyes. They can't see what is happening and now neither can the audience. This gives me a chance to change things without it sounding clinical.)

You can also mix it up with taste, smell, touch, sound in-between heavier action scenes so it reads more smoothly.

—Each person gets a moment to stand out. This was important in the GB, but is the same in threesomes. It's okay to step back and focus on MC x Character A for a bit while sidelining Character B. It makes it feel a bit more grounded, like the MC is ensnared by them in that moment. You can add a simple line to show where the other character is so it doesn't seem like they got lost in the void. Have them do something, or add something vague (a noise they make, how they're touching the MC), and then you can just focus on two characters for a moment.

Then just switch it up by bringing them back into the fold. Have them say something or do something before you set that up so it reads more coherently.

And that's pretty much it! I just kinda get a feel for when I need to pull back and add emotion, or when I need to focus on the physical smut.

(A great resource is other fanfic/artwork/videos to see how certain positions play out.)

As for cringe: I have no shame whatsoever. If I discover something I like, I'll throw it into a fic. I wouldn't worry so much about it—no matter what, someone will enjoy it, and if you find it interesting/fun, then why not explore it a bit more if you want to.

And nothing you write in fic has to 100% be what you subscribe to. I've written smut that isn't really my taste, but it was fun to delve into that. Just because you write it, doesn't mean that it has to be a kink of yours! I def don't look at what other writers write and immediately think "oh, that's what they're into?" So I'd say, just have fun with it!

I hope this helps! 🖤

#ahhh im so terrible at advice #but i hope this helps!

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 02/03/2024 (SZA, Central Cee, Pozer)

Beyoncé may have the #1 for a second week with “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” but the real winners on this UK Singles Chart are songs benefiting from songs above them plundering, partly thanks to everyone’s favourite arbitrary rule, Accelerated Chart Ratio (ACR). I am never explaining that rule, look it up, but you’d think maybe we’d get a surge of new songs, right? No, it’s a pretty minimal week, and I’m not complaining. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, and we have… unless I’m missing something, surprisingly little of note here? We bid farewell to “BACK TO ME” by Hitler, Goebbels and an uncredited Freddie Gibbs, “Ophelia” by The Lumineers, “Toxic” by Songer (thank God), “Sprinter” by Dave and Central Cee and of course, Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved” but that’ll be back soon enough.

Okay, so as for returns, we just get Ye’s “Runaway” featuring Pusha T back at #48, but our notable gains are where this week gets actually interesting, because we actually have quite a few, particularly in the top 40, thanks to ACR as mentioned but also potentially some TikTok-related industry politics that probably act in parallel with each other, but we start with “Thank You (Not So Bad)” by way too many brain cells at #68, “Soaked” by Shy Smith at #51, “vampire” by Olivia Rodrigo at #44 and “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #41. Then the top 40, where all Hell breaks loose, though most of these songs are actually pretty good: “Birds in the Sky” by NewEra at #40, “Made for Me” by Muni Long at #37, “Never be Alone” by Becky Hill and Sonny Fodera at #35, “Whatever She Wants” by Bryson Tiller of all people at #31 (and yes, I think I get it now), “On My Love” by Zara Larsson and David Guetta at #28, “Scared to Start” by Michael Marcagi at #22, “Nothing Matters” by The Last Dinner Party at #16, “Lovers in a Past Life” by Calvin Harris and Rag’n’Bone Man at #13, and finally - unfortunately - we have “CARNIVAL” by Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign featuring Playboi Carti at #9. Yes, it’s Rich the Kid’s first top 10 hit and no, you should not care.

Our top five should sound pretty normal, apart from a new entry into the top 10 at #5 as Djo gets his first with “End of Beginning”. I guess Steve Lacy can be a one-hit wonder twice. Aside from that, well, it’s all pretty expected: “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan at #4, “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone at #3, “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #2 and Bey at #1. I like how this top five is a herd of angsty indie rock-adjacent white dudes led by the queen of the hive.

NEW ARRIVALS

#61 - “Love On” - Selena Gomez

Produced by The Monsters & Strangerz and Isaiah Tejada

Man, one of the few times that a mainstream artist releases a well-received and popular album that I think is absolutely brilliant, if not perfect, and none of it charts in the top 75. I’m not revealing who that is, if you know, you know. No worries, guys, we have Selena Gomez instead! God… to be honest, I like to give Selena the benefit of the doubt more than often, and I actually really like this song for its quirks as I’ll discuss later, but it’s pretty funny that this song starts with the French language only for all of that effortlessly seductive aura to be replaced with “Wait ‘til I get my love on”. What? In fact, this song is incredibly clunky in its sexiness or lack thereof, and if you think it’s to fit an already constructed rhyme or construction… why does it sound this awkward and almost improvised? “Screaming yes in quotations”, “night shift but with all the perks” (or Percs?), “why are we conversating over this steak tartare”? Yes, Julia Michaels, I knew you wrote this song before I checked the credits, you didn’t need to make it too obvious. Now I actually love this song, it’s so artfully stupid in execution: Selena sounds Auto-Tuned to Hell as always but it doesn’t grant her any rhythm with that robotic hook slipping over itself, as if the verses don’t embarrass her enough: Isaiah, listen, why leave her only with the clipping bassline and add all those accentuative vocal effects? It’s almost cruelty. She doesn’t even sound like herself on the strained falsetto pre-chorus, especially not those backing vocals which you could easily convince me are Toro y Moi of all people, and the chorus promising that you should just wait until she has her love on before she loves on you, which is… what? Asexuals could write better songs about intimacy, but in all its goofiness, the song ends up winning me over on pure silliness. The production has a straightforward groove but a lovely disco swell to the strings, detailed vocal layering and those phased synths acting as stabs that make Selena’s rhythmic bruising in the chorus sound almost normal are the icing on top. This is an adorable little failure of a song, I kind of admire it. Push it in the same category as “Feather” by Sabrina Carpenter in being loveable nu-disco messes.

#49 - “Showtime” - Catfish and the Bottlemen

Produced by Dave Sardy and Ryan McCann

It’s been a five-year hiatus, but indie rock band Catfish and the Bottlemen are back to music, though with some departures and line-up changes, and oddly enough, all of that ties into the fittingly titled comeback single, “Showtime”. Yes, this song is about the strains of touring and life on the road as part of a band, but how that’s all ultimately worth it for how gratifying it is to make an impact on listeners and be performing to audiences, as well as being with the band members he loves to record and perform with. I love the breakneck pace of the bass and post-punk rhythm of the verses and pre-choruses with that soaring guitar lick, and I think that the lead singer Mr. McCann (of no relation to that one) has a solid control of his distorted nasal tone until that disappointing chorus comes in which doesn’t feel nearly as ambitious or arena-ready as it wants to be, mostly because McCann is mumbling and it halts the momentum of the entire song. Also, it starts really shoddy lyrically, it’s hard to sound profound when half of your chorus is moaning “fuck that shit, get on this”. It does end up contextualising itself better on repetitions, mostly because of the warm finger-snaps in the bridge that eventually evolve into a heartland rolick that gives the final chorus space to breathe in a muddy mix… then seems to never fully get its power back, replacing it with a gross basic synth that parades around a befuddled Bottlemen, until eventually the song is just a lo-fi piano recording that doesn’t feel like it’s entirely warranted its inclusion, though it wraps up the narrative nicely as he comes back home after touring. I really like the sentiment of this song and parts of what it’s going for but the chorus, which really makes or break an anthemic song like this, just loses me, which is really disappointing as the rest of the song focuses entirely on building up to it. I’m sure it’ll be a killer live, but that’s also with the caveat that when performing live, they can mess with the structure, the lyrics and the performance, as well as most importantly for this one, the mix… so I don’t think this song will ever sound as good on record as it could do at a festival, which considering the song’s content, is kind of beautiful.

#29 - “Kitchen Stove” - Pozer

Produced by Young Madz

It’s pretty weird that this is not the first time in recent memory that I’ve never heard of the lead rapper on a track but have seen a dozen or so credits for his producer. Unlike Rich Amiri, this is far from rage however, it’s a drill track, of course, with Young Madz being a New York producer who’s worked with Fivio Foreign, the 41 collective and sadly, Lil Mabu, as well as having produced a previously charting track from Russ Millions. Pozer, on the other hand, has no other songs, with this being a breakout track on TikTok as well as his debut single… that’s being distributed by Sony. Yeah, slick one there. To fully understand this, we need to look back two years for another fluke viral hit, “snowfall” by Øneheart and reidenshi, a Russian space ambient track with over 500 million streams on Spotify - yes, really. It debuted nearly exactly a year after release and eventually peaked at #57 in 2023 whilst Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” was #1. Øneheart’s follow-up was another ambient track, “this feeling”, which is not nearly as successful and also not as good, mostly because it lacks as sticky of a lead as “snowfall” and falls more into a vaporwave-esque filter of hopelessness which resonates a bit less. It does sound ripe for sampling though, especially that tiny vocal lead at the tail-end, so I guess it makes sense that for a manufactured viral hit, Madz took a sped-up version of the Russian ambient song and put it over some of the most rote, typical Jersey drill percussion possible. He doesn’t do much chopping, mostly because you don’t need to - like I said, that vocal sample would be perfect under Jersey drill, and Madz had the exact same idea, I suppose. Pozer, despite the name, isn’t exactly a bad rapper, his flow is pretty typical but solid and his second verse goes into more introspective and paranoid territory, pretty befitting of the haunting production… my problem is his delivery and the way he’s mixed: he just sounds too obvious. For production as potentially eerie as this, the production needs to be way more textured and dynamic, and Pozer himself needs to be quieter in the mix - as do the bed squeaks. This feels like a perfect lay-up of an idea that would make both a great song and an easy hit just fumbled in execution. It’s still a functional song for sure, but it doesn’t hit the way it absolutely could have.

#18 - “I Will” - Central Cee

Produced by John Alexis and LIOHN

Cench has another single out as he seems to drip-feed these - if he keeps them all on the record, that debut studio album will be more like a greatest hits compilation. As for this new one… first of all, I need this guy to step away from women: he’s awkward, condescending, and has strange fixations on this girl’s mother, how “young” she makes her feel, as well as just the extents of the capabilities of his penis… as well as a song-long hyperfixation on her shaving her privates. Over an Ed Sheeran-sounding beat? The acoustic guitars don’t mesh with the distant vocal loops, his vocal mix sounds horrifically unprofessional as does his complete lack of melodic understanding or personality when trying to sing on the chorus. You’d think he’d try and pick up the rapping to make up for it but he sounds half-dead. Speaking of Ed Sheeran, even he raps better than this - and yes, that includes about sex and relationships. There’s so little in the beat to distract from Cench’s terrible performance and content, so this is just an embarrassing display of everything that he cannot do properly. The second top comment on Genius, so you know, the fans, is asking what the Hell this is, and I can’t say I disagree with the fans in this case. I know you love Drake, it doesn’t mean you have to be him.

#15 - “Saturn” - SZA

Produced by Carter Lang, Rob Bisel, Solomonophonic and Monsune

SZA’s finally released a highly-anticipated song she performed at the GRAMMYs that may be connected to some form of SOS reissue and… oh, this interpolates one of my absolute favourite albums of all time. The opening track to Canadian composer Mort Garson’s peaceful, dynamic and forward-thinking 1976 electronic album Mother Earth’s Plantasia may not be iconic to everyone, but I still get goosebumps listening to it and that’s even outside of its greater context where this is the opening suite to a themed, arguably conceptual record acting as a love letter to two different pets of the musician: the myriad of plants his wife grew in the home, and his admired Moog synthesizer that he composed the entire album on. Sadly, Garson passed in 2008, before the record could gain its underground cult following amongst music fans, and before its official reissue in 2019 which particularly benefits the opening track, which has since been used in advertisements and now ends up interpolated on SZA’s new single, which released as a surprise to her fans and feels like a pretty spiritual return to some of the sounds explored on CTRL, using the sprinkling nostalgic synths of “Plantasia” as a backing for her lamenting of how dull and monotonous life on Earth can be. It’s actually fascinating to use that sample considering how celebratory I’ve always seen Garson’s album of both the natural world and human  influence or appreciation of it, but definitely not a bad one as Lang, Bisel and co. add their own cascading synths to the dejected drum mix and warm guitars that flow this song swiftly into psychedelic territory, especially on the gorgeously harmonic chorus. My favourite moment may be the pre-chorus though, where SZA’s vocal layering filters into the static of both itself and the incessant hi-hat wearing itself out over time. It’s pure escapism for sure, much like a lot of this week, really, but it’s damn effective escapism, pulling you into this forest that, despite my general issue with fade-outs, makes sense to drift out of existence. The song’s about wanting to live on Saturn, I can just imagine that as the song fades out, we pan away from SZA and the camera focuses on the scarce night sky peppered with stars. If a song ever justifies its cop-out ending, then it’s doing something really right.

Conclusion

Yeah, the girlies really won this episode, didn’t they? SZA takes Best of the Week away easily with “Saturn” but “Love On” by Selena Gomez does take the Honourable Mention. As for the Dishonourable Mention, I think Pozer just frustrates me with “Kitchen Stove” whilst Central Cee handedly has the Worst of the Week because Jesus Christ, “I Will” is almost irredeemable on pretty much all fronts. As for what’s new on the horizon in the coming weeks, I’m unsure, but it will be interesting what new stuff arises as a result of the ACR clearout this week. For now, thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next week!

#uk singles chart #pop music #song review #sza #mort garson #central cee #catfish and the bottlemen #pozer #oneheart #selena gomez

[kendrixtermina]

(there is a perpetual uneasiness in the state of being conscious)

I.

I am awake in the darkness,

afraid to die.

A helpless thing dissolving in the acid of time,

like every other helpless thing that dares to stick out its bony hands.

Whatever I look at,

whatever which angle I stand to contemplate it from

I cannot think of anything but sad things.

I just want to tear everything out.

I think I can just barely bear it only as long as nobody talks to me.

I am raw and bloody and bruised and sore

wherever anyone has even thought of laying hand of me

wherever the fabric has pressed with the slightest force

overwrought fibres hanging out like tattered cloth

vise-gripped into some inadvisable state of tightness and bentness

Ah yes,

something is taking its sweet time

taking ever such slight bites of me,

vestigal rudiments withered from disuse

The days pass through me and I cannot hold them

To be witnessed would be intolerable.

II.

I am a cluster of eyes, taking off its skin.

I am a vague outline of silhouette, a possibly seen shadow,

depositing a little something on the table.

I am the memory of a dancing drunken fairy

that ceases to make sense in the morning.

I’m that old lady that the physicians didn’t properly bother to revive.

I’m that forgettable office drone you assembled

using a cheaper than usual package of ACME robot emotions.

I’m that questionably designed doll that was found kind of creepy

even when it was new and sparkling,

when it hasn’t been any of those things in a long time.

I am the thousand hands pulling at red flesh so as to turn it into something not recognizable.

I am a family portrait of mushrooms, framed in a dramatic composition.

I am that thing in the living room chair

that can’t be bothered to stop burning.

I am those pitiful remains there hanging off

that alien flesh blob on the ceiling

where maybe a head once could have been, some while back.

I am the lurid zombie that grins back at you,

in some obscene state of undress,

maggot holes all bared,

asking audaciously of worms.

And I am that blasted monolith in the distance

that never ever seems to come the slightest bit closer,

no matter how many ardous days of journeys you waste towards it.

III.

The angels envy us.

The dead wish they were alive,

and the more time you spend talking to a doll,

the likelier that it is to be running away screaming

at the prospect that it might be turning into one of those very very real girls.

The only conclusion one can be possibly left with,

is that all states are intollerable, all ways of being.

Some way temporarily just have convinced themselves,

that this ardor is worth suffering,

and thece lies their vilest snare.

But I don’t think that anyone really believes it,

not while they’re not actively trying to convince themselves of such.

Even beauty surprises us, because it’s so unlikely to encounter any reprieve.

If it were the default case in any sense, why even feel more contentment

than in the intake of needed, but rather unexamined breath?

While you know that you live, you know you can die,

but without knowing, nothing leaves a mark on you.

So you’re free then to know, to notice

the animatronic plastic peeling off the clunky hydraulics in your hand.

The infected, reddish rim where the tube pokes right out of your flesh.

The mushroom-eaten, the dried up fleshbags,

the dim silhouettes and all the jellyfish that you dimly might have exhaled.

They stand there waiting in an afterworld you’ll have precious little say in.

#poetry #feelings #baby tries to art

[burritosandpeppermint]

So I decided to finally watch 'Willow' the series (I'm generally more into sci fi but everyone here who's been watching it seems to appreciate it and I generally trust y'all) but first I watched 'Willow' the movie which I have no recollection of having watched since I saw it in the theater with my dad when it first came out.

First, a dorky little review of the movie:

I don't' want to spend too much time on this partly because I know people have a nostalgia boner for it whereas I simply do not care about it. Like, I'm sorry, but I don't. Upon rewatching it I remembered some scenes being so disturbing or frightening they elicited a verbal response from me - when Raziel was being changed from a common bush possum into a raven, or the trolls looking like creeping shadows, or when the troll gets turned into that two headed thing - but besides the above and, honestly, the attractiveness of practically everyone involved it just didn't stick with me. High fantasy can require a high buy-in and if it's a one-off movie I just don't return to it often, or at all. That being said, it's not bad! I mean, the fighting sequences feel clunky, the acting is hit or miss (I want to say that Val Kilmer was given some direction that might've run against his instincts from time to time)(but he's still good and fun to watch), and it is literally a movie on the cusp between older special effects and the new CGI movement, so a mixed bag there, but it's also fun! The shield toboggan was thrilling! The cinematography is right where you want it to be! Dogs in costume! (I remember my dad laughing about that; I did the same when I watched it yesterday). So, it's fine. Not a childhood favorite but definitely a 1988 Ron Howard movie...probably a little too much George Lucas in it, but still. You do what you can with what you have.

Now, the series: I love it! There are so many layers.

The prince is a flirt who's kidnapped and the princess has to go rescue him.

Actual queer people portraying queer characters.

Every character is on their own journey, even as they're on the same collective journey, and moving from one to the other from scene to scene feels seamless.

People have conflict and regrets, and that's okay. It sucks to be tortured by your past but what matters is how you move forward.

It's fucking gorgeous.

There's probably more but the reason I'm writing this is because I can NOT stand...the music.

You thought I was going to say dialogue, weren't you? Well, guess what. After five minutes in I realized that the dialogue was modern in nature. I kept noticing it for about another five minutes and then I just stopped noticing it. It's fine. It's a series that's trying to tell a high fantasy story to a modern audience; what matters is what happens, not explicitly how they talk. And this may be a bit crude but if using modern ways of speaking takes you out of a fantasy show and you're missing something written by a literal philologist who created his own languages then go jack off into 'The Silmarillion' and leave us alone (and order a new copy, for god's sake; that thing's getting too crusty).

...but the end music. THAT takes me out of it. Every time. The end of the third episode? Fucking 'Enter Sandman?' No. I'm very emotionally open to what's been happening, receptive to all, and at the climax to the episode I'm immediately jolted into seeing that big rig hit that bed. What? Why? Maybe it's just me but it breaks the entire idea of escapism. So, maybe...you know what? I was going to try to find a similar way to end this paragraph as I did the previous one but I'm just gonna end with this period.

My only other minor gripes are similar to most other modern productions: the scene at the end of episode three was...fighting? Hard to say, it's fucking dark as hell. Yes, I get it, it's night, but also guess what? We can imply night without making it super dark; hell, 'Nope' did night wonderfully (albeit with newer "daytime as nighttime" technology than what's been used before). The other one is with dialogue volume...but more specifically with regards to the fact that most actors now wear lavalier microphones which allows fore more natural speech to come through, so actors can speak more quietly or mumble and it gets picked up. And boy, do they mumble! Maybe it's a generational thing; I feel like the younger actors are more comfortable speaking towards the back of their throats whereas the more experienced actors tend to speak towards their lips and teeth. Literally a difference in elocution. Maybe mumble/whisper core is better for some, but to return slightly to a "Why are they talking that way?" point of view it does take me out of what I'm watching if I have to constantly rewind it before giving up and putting on closed captions.

Otherwise, I love it, and I can't wait to continue it.

#willow #series #can you tell I finally got some good sleep? #OPINIONS OPINIONS OPINIONS #spoilers

[aniamra]

Open Source Audio/Visual Editors

I always find myself thinking about how frustrated I am there's a lot of open source projects for some things, and then just none for others and I wonder how that even happens.

For example, Blender is not JUST an open source CGI tool, but a contender for being on par with the likes of Maya. Krita is a bit more young and hasn't been able to quite reach some of the features Photoshop has, but it's certainly powerful in its own right, more time will just refine it and with any luck, start changing the industry like Blender has.

However, if your field is in Audio or visual and you want to find an open source competitor for FL Studio or Logic Pro, or a video editor as good as Adobe Premier or Vegas, I'm certain there are no staples that come to mind unless you're already deliberately looking for it like I am. Most of the options you'll find with a cursory search are either other varying levels of paid software, a handful of clunky, often questionable or bloated freemium, and that's it. I often wonder to myself, why is it, that audio and multi-media editing has for this long been largely untouched by open source initiatives? Why in the 2020's do those forms of media editing continue to be walled gardens?

Some might suggest just pirating the existing software but I feel like that dodges the real problem, and this has nothing to do with the 'morality' of pirating. The truth of the matter is, pirating software still continues to perpetuate the hold on the industry that software has. You're still elevating the proprietary file formats of that company, even if you're not directly giving them money. Just like how no matter how many alternatives we have to Photoshop, we're still kowtowing to it just by having it's PSDs be the only universal file format. Krita can make it's own open source file formats to support multi-layer styles and text layers, but unless all the other companies communicate with each other and accept the file format into their own libraries, it won't do anything. Business licenses will be the biggest contributor to money those companies make, and as long as their file formats are the standard they have an obligation to continue using the same software. It is my opinion that pirating the software just perpetuates this. And to be clear, this isn't a judgement to say you should or shouldn't, I genuinely do not care, but this is to say that pirating on it's own isn't really 'sticking it to the man' like some people think it is. It's a neutral act, it's neither productive or disruptive, but supporting open source initiatives, that will always make waves.

So all that rambling aside, I've done a little digging and there are some options, but they're still pretty small in size. But I'm hoping more awareness that the projects even exist will make people try them out and contribute/give it more traction.

Audio Editing

For those that don't make music this might not be something any one thinks of beyond small audio edits, but as a person that's started to think about dipping my toes into making music, all the software out there is prohibitively expensive. I had been hoping for an open source option to pop up for ages and I think I finally found one.

https://lmms.io/ This is the best I've found for a Digital Audio Workstation that's along the lines of FL Studio or Logic Pro, however I don't have enough personal experience with either of those to tell you if it's a decent alternative or not. But I am glad that it exists and I hope with support it does reach that point. But it means I have a means of being able to experiment and try out stuff for myself without having to rely in the hoops of pirating software.

https://ardour.org/ This seems to be a Digital Audio Workstation, but I can't tell if it's midi only or if it works with the same kind of audio libraries other programs do. But it still looks to be a supported option.

https://tenacityaudio.org/ This one might also be a good option but it feels closer to a competitor for Audacity than a full Digital Audio Workstation but in time it might change. But hey we can always use more free audio editors than just Audacity as much of a staple as it is.

Video Editing

In the realm of visual editors the only free ones I had known of previously were DaVinci Resolve and Hitfilm Express, and neither of these are open source. All they are is freemium editors, and I have been hunting for SOMETHING to use to edit videos that isn't the same freemium options and I finally ran into a couple.

https://kdenlive.org/en/ There is some notes about this one being possibly laggy and buggy but that seems to be a year ago. As with all things open source, new builds can often mean a world of difference.

https://www.shotcut.org/ Seems to be about the same as KDen, from what I could tell the features appeared to be on-par with one another. However it does have ads on the windows version unless you get it from Windows Store/Flathub/Snap Store so, take that as you will.

https://www.olivevideoeditor.org/ This looks to be brand new, as they are only just reaching their 0.2 version, but may be worth keeping an eye on.

https://natrongithub.github.io/ Unlike the other three, this is less a competitor for Premier and more like a competitor for After Effects. It specializes in effects editing and compositing. The above three programs are for your meat and potatoes structure of your video, Natron is for the polish after the fact.

Hopefully this may be useful for you, dear reader, but I know I'm certainly benefiting from finally having viable audio/visual editing options.

#digital audio workstation #open source #audio editors #video editors

[thehiddenbaroness]

Baroness' General Writing Tips, Part I

I decided to finally start compiling little (and big) things I've learnt over the 20+ years I've been compulsively recreationally putting one word in front of the other; I hope it's helpful or at least reassuring!

While much of this is slanted toward fiction, a lot of it applies to nonfiction as well. I've also gone for more general tips this go round. You're welcome to pick my brain about specific topics and I'll do my best to answer.

The key thing to remember is that this is what I have personally found helpful; they may have more or less degrees of usefulness or relevance to you personally, but they can still serve as starting points. Part II

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(1) Your method is your method...

This goes for whether you plan ahead or just roll with it, but also things like when/where you write.

(2) ...but discipline and practice will help you do the heavy lifting.

At some point the difference in your personal skill plateaus is down to how often you write regardless of your mood, knowledge of where it's going, or perceived skill. Persistence will be your strongest ally during the inevitable droughts and valleys of self-doubt.

(3) Reading is good and helpful...

Read widely, read deep. Learn from the successes and mistakes of others. Learn what you want to emulate and what you want to avoid. Broaden your perspective, take note of different techniques, build your knowledge base. Train your discernment. Likewise, back-reading your own material to see where you left off can be useful if you struggle with consistency / sticking to the point. (4) ...but don't let it distract or saturate. Sometimes, back-reading your own work can scratch the itch you had to work on something and you end up not writing new material. This can happen with others' work in a related genre/field -- it scratches the itch you had for that type of content, or conversely you begin unhelpful comparisons between their work and yours.

Most of all, you will need to learn the difference between being inspired by something and mimicking it to the point of plagiarism.

(5) Learn to take a break, not to quit. If you feel a piece truly isn't working, don't let your first response be to give up on it. Put it away for a while and come back to it, then maybe try, for example, a different angle or point of view. (6) Light immersion in related media helps with burnout while still being useful. Sometimes writing isn't going to be the most helpful thing to do. You will always need to replenish your creative batteries, but sometimes this can feel like avoidance or laziness -- it isn't. Browse concept art. Sketch. Work on some worldbuilding that'll never make it in. Visit a museum. Listen to an audiobook in your genre. Watch a documentary on the same topic.

(7) Your first draft is just that -- a draft. Be open-minded and forgiving, and embrace the process. The most important thing in this stage is to get content on the page, because you can't do anything without it. Trust your gut and let the words flow how they want.

(8) There is immense opportunity in the editing process... Often the best breakthroughs come through asking questions during your editing. The answers can forge new links or callbacks, or open up new avenues for plot, or enrich what's already there. Editing isn't pass/fail -- it's a conversation. (9) ...but don't be a forever-editor. Perfectionism is the enemy. Nothing will ever be perfect to you -- accept that sooner rather than later -- but it will be perfect to someone out there. Yet they'll never see it if you don't let the project out into the world. (10) Read it aloud. No matter your experience, this will inevitably catch clunky sentences, weak pacing, and even sub-par semantics. It's very important to do this with dialogue so that it sounds natural.

(11) Accept you belong in the writerly ecosystem just as you are.

There's three aspects to this: first, that everyone feels like an imposter at some point and probably will in the future, regardless of their experience or how much they have published. Second, that there are no new ideas, but your telling will always be new. And third, that you remain a writer if you haven't written for years or struggle to jot down a sentence a week just as much as if you churn out a book a year. Don't let these things hold you back.

#writing tips #writer tips #writing stuff #writing advice

[whole-wheat-trolls]

Tempered in Fire Pt. II

Fine steel is not made quickly. Once it is forged it needs to be tempered, kept at high heat for long periods of time. Like all things it does not always go perfectly, the heat can warp your blade before it has finished, leaving the only option, to return it to the fire, fix the imperfection, and attempt to temper it once again. A good sword, once finely tempered, will flex before it breaks, take an edge better, and be easier to fix any damage that does occur. Unfortunately, the more attempts at tempering, the more strain you put the blade under, the more likely it is to crack the next attempt.

"Bouros, what is this," asks a young Lilian. She had been made to expect toys, warm clothes, and books from her lusus.

"Why, it is my gift to you this perigee, my child. This sword will very well save your life one day," the giant serpent that is one of Lilian's lusii, Bouros, moves in to the light of their hive. Clawed digits push the sword in her direction, sensing apprehension. The child before him looks down, unable to understand. She is only 3 and a half sweeps old.

"You and your brother are mutants, Lilian. The world is against you. Aurora and myself can not shield you from that fact forever," says the serpent, "I will teach you, so you need not be scared." She is still not sure what she would be scared of, but the words stick to her like glue. She would ask Aurora later, a lusii twin to Bouros what she should make of it.

"You must do what you think is right," Aurora said, in trying to be impartial she had decidedly chosen the wrong thing to say. Bouros's language, always cherry picked just right to make the young troll err on the side of caution, stuck in her head.

"I think... I will learn. I don't want anything to happen to Nils," the decision was made. Lilian's new year would be spent with Bouros, and the finest sword money could buy.

It was not bad, Lilian enjoyed spending the time with her Lusus, despite the clunky piece of steel in her hands. He instructed her on many things she found funny at that age, like how your legs should be a certain distance apart, and how you should walk with the same leg forward the entire time. When it came to striking she swung with reckless abandon, no matter the instruction. Her tireless nature gave hope to Bouros that she would be like her ancestor yet, the pride of that great serpent he wished to recapture, if just for a moment.

"A tournament? Like the medieval times," questioned Lilian, now four sweeps old. Aurora had gotten her a stuffed toy, her brother Nils had made her breakfast, and Bouros gave her a request.

"Yes, precisely. Now that you are old enough to attend it only makes sense, aren't you curious where you would place," the snake hides its intention well, it would be an indicator to if she truly could be as great as her ancestor. "I want you to join, it will be good for you."

With no reason to say no, a young Lilian agreed to participate. Unfortunately she did know she would be alone, their lusii too massive to occupy a public space, and Nils having been told to stay behind, surely in another lesson for his schooling. He never had problems with reading or numbers like Lilian did, and when Bouros wasn't instructing her, he was tutoring Nils. Lilian returned late that night, greeted by her brother first.

"Lily! Did you have fun," Nils asked, already smiling. She indeed did have fun, and said as much, "I knew you would," her brother told her after. Their lightheartedness continued, all the way to the chamber that housed their massive lusus, where Nils froze outside the door, and excused himself.

Pushing through the doors Lilian prepared to show her accomplishment, but the energy felt different. Bouros opened a bright, slitted eye to look through her.

"Well, Lilian, how did you do?"

"I had fun, I met a lot of-"

"I do not care for who you met, or if you had fun right now. Tell me what you placed in the tournament, like I had asked."

"I placed fifth," she suddenly felt ashamed of it, like she had truly done something wrong.

"Fifth. The descendant of Susano could manage only fifth?"

"There was sixteen people... fifth isn't that bad," she tried to reason, but reason was not among the serpents venerable traits.

"Are you calling me wrong Lilian? Did you try? Or have you forgotten why I am teaching you this skill Lilian?" She would try to speak up, but be silenced by the misplaced wrath of her lusus. "I am allowing you to learn under terms that are not so dire Lilian, but perhaps I need to change that if you are convinced that fifth place skills could save you and your brother's life out there."

Confused and scared, Lilian offered a quiet, shaky apology, and the promise that she would work harder in the future. A decision that would be found to be decidedly wrong, once again.

#homestuck #fantroll #oc #Lilian #drabble tag #another part yet to come #*dissects Lilian completely*

[thisaintascenereviews]

I Am - Eternal Steel Texas extreme metal band I Am is a band that I’ve never been super crazy about, although I’ve heard a few of their albums, and I’ve enjoyed all of them. I’ve never been over the moon for them, but they’re a solid band. They were always a deathcore-leaning band to me, including a lot of breakdowns, deep and gutteral harsh vocals, as well as a death metal aesthetic, but it seems like things have changed a little bit on their newest LP, Eternal Steel. I don’t remember if I heard their last LP before this one, but from what I saw, they turned into a hybrid of death metal, thrash metal, groove metal, and hardcore. They threw a bunch of sounds into a blender, at least from what it looked like. I remember their album, at least the songs I heard from it (if I didn’t hear the whole album, anyway) had that sound, and they were interesting, to say the least. It was a bit of a clunky sound, because they didn’t mesh it extremely well at that point yet, but it was cool hearing a death metal, groove metal, and thrash mix with a dash of hardcore and crossover. With that said, though, they’re also one of those bands that falls victim to the issue of having a bunch of sounds in their own sound, only to be more or less a sum of their parts, versus actually doing super unique or interesting when you break it all down. Each element of their sound didn’t really stick out in any way, but the combined product was pretty cool, all things considered. I didn’t know what to expect with Eternal Steel, but I had the same idea that they would definitely utilize their new sound a lot more. Sure enough, that’s what they do on this LP, and it yields good to mixed results. I want to preface my thoughts on this album with the idea that it’s a good album overall. If someone asked me if they should check this out, I’d say yes immediately. I’d completely recommend this record, but at the same time, there are some major issues here that I can’t ignore and that have ultimately made me want to revisit it somewhat less and less the more I hear it. The album doesn’t get any worse, per se, but it also hasn’t quite gotten any better with each subsequent listen, either, and that’s what an album should do. The more you hear it, the better it should get, or the more intricacies you find through playthrough. Let me talk about what I like first, though, and there are a few really good things here. Despite my biggest issue being its sound, and I’ll get to that more in a bit, I do enjoy it overall. I love their mixture of thrash, death metal, groove metal, and hardcore. They take the best elements of each genre and put them to good use. There are some sick thrash guitar solos, heavy and slowburning groove metal riffs, a lot of death metal ragers, and some awesome breakdowns that take over the album. Everything is performed well, especially for what it is, so when I say that I’m not crazy about this album, it’s not the performances, it’s more so how it’s all executed in the end. One thing I have always liked about this band, their sound aside, is their vocalist. He’s got one of the deepest and most gutteral death metal growls I’ve heard in a long while, but he has some range, too. What it all comes down to, at least as to why I don’t care for this album as much as I should, is in its execution. Everything sounds great, and it bothers me that I don’t like this album as much as I should. I like it, but I don’t love it. A lot of other people seem to love it, and I’m glad they do, because it’s a good album, but this album is just so generic when you really break apart each individual element of their sound. It’s almost like they sound like another band; their crossover moments sound like Power Trip, and their groove metal moments sound like Pantera, and that kind of takes me out of the album, because they just seem to sound like other bands. Whether they intend on that or not, I won’t comment on, because it doesn’t really matter, but it just sounds like they’re emulating other bands, versus crafting their own identity outside of combining these ideas together. You can combine these ideas together, but it doesn’t sound like they’re trying to create something new, but just take all of these ideas and sounds that are really good and put them in a blender. Like I said earlier, this album is the sum of its parts, so as long as you don’t break down the individual elements and just leave the album as a whole, you’ll enjoy it a lot, I’m sure. The album works best when you “turn your brain off,” so to speak, because it sounds awesome when you don’t think about it, and you just want some good riffs, breakdowns, and solos, but if you start to think about it, it just doesn’t do anything for me, because it sounds really generic in spots. Not to mention, this album also runs out of steam by the halfway point, and a lot of the songs just blend together in the end, which isn’t horrible on its own, but this album is about 42 minutes, so it’s a bit lengthy when you think about it. It’s not a bad album, per se, but the album just runs out of ideas, because it just has the same formula of combining these same sounds in different orders. A few acoustic and slower parts appear on the album, which is cool, but this album works best if you want a bunch of ragers. It’s one of those albums, so you really can’t criticize it completely, or go too hard on it, because it’s not trying to do anything unique or say anything unique, it’s trying to be fun, engaging, and heavy as all hell. Sometimes that’s all you need, but other times, it’s not enough. It’s weird, because I don’t usually fault albums for that, but the execution has to be top notch for me to excuse how generic it is. You can make the argument that this is unique, but not really. It’s not as unique as some people might think it is. I just don’t think this album is up to par with what I was looking for in the vein of heavy bangers. It’s got some good stuff, and I might play this every now and again, but I’m not going back this constantly, because there’s not much for me to go back to, either. That’s the main thing that I’m trying to say here, but you know what? If you enjoy this record, good for you. I’m glad you like it, because it’s a good album. Is it a great album, or is it one of the best of the year? No, not by a long shot, but I wouldn’t blame someone if they really loved this, either, because it’s got some good stuff on it. At the very least, it’s worth a listen.

#i am #eternal steel #metalcore #metal #heavy metal #deathcore #death metal #groove metal #thrash metal #crossover #power trip #pantera

[liztoady]

this is english coursework but I want to see if the internet people like it

Genre: Videogame Reviews

Audience: People familiar with videogames and gaming culture

Function: To entertain

Word Count: 1124

A retrospective on Super Paper Mario

(Nintendo Wii, 2007) 4/5 Stars

Super Paper Mario, in many ways, is THE prime example on how to NOT make an RPG.

And yet, it’s also one of the greatest stories ever told in a videogame, ever. Let me explain.

To truly understand Super Paper Mario and how this utter travesty of a gameplay experience came to have such a profound impact on those who suffered through it, we need to look beyond the sales, beyond the anti-fans and Dimentio-stans. We need to go right back to the very beginning. Today, I’ll tell you a story of a long-forgotten game…

Once upon a time, Nintendo, after the success of the first, decided to create a brand-spanking-new Mario RPG. And so, Paper Mario was born. It was a pretty quiet entry to the massive Mario conglomerate, being released late into the Nintendo 64’s lifespan. Nevertheless, early reviewers praised its unique style, characteristic charm and easy-to-understand mechanics. These core elements would soon become the basis for a much bigger, much grander sequel – Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door! It was a smash hit with fans from every angle, and still sells for ridiculous prices today because of its – well, – sheer greatness. The wit, the mechanics, the story, the graphics! Suffice to say, Paper Mario games had gained a strong foothold with fans. They craved more. Who could blame them?

So, Nintendo did the logical thing (obviously). On the 9th April 2007, they bestowed upon us the eagerly anticipated sequel, the culmination of every hit in the series so far! (Drumroll, please)

Super Paper Mario!

…I’m going to be frank with you, dear reader. Super Paper Mario is, undoubtedly, a flawed game. The controls are limited to the Wii remote’s 4 directions (yes, no c-stick support in a partly 3D game – the horror!), the geometric aesthetic can get old after a while and the pacing makes it, so you’d rather crawl into hell than go back to speak to Jasperoid again to get an unnecessarily long password that takes ages to input because the controls are do damn slow and clunky!

If you know, you know.

In short, it’s a hot mess. Even without considering the clear omission of the turn-based battles from previous titles, its clear that this game does not – and will not – ever compare to its predecessors when it comes to gameplay.

And yet? It doesn’t actually matter. This game shouldn’t even be a Mario game, probably. I bet if it was just some regular, one-off, weirdo game with some other rando on the title, nobody would criticize its flaws as much as they do. But because it’s got ‘Paper Mario’ on the title, it’s suddenly subject to a heck ton more grief (it’s a member of the Mario family, capish?).

How come I like it so much, then? So far, I’ve only been complaining about it! Well hold on to your Wii remotes, dear readers. To truly (truly) understand Super Paper Mario, I’ll tell you a story of the lost book of prophecies. It is a tale of love…

(Yes, that is how the game starts, stick with me, guys!)

The people who have played this game to completion will tell you: it’s a wild ride. Mario has never been so anime (and I personally adore it). If you don’t want to be spoiled for the ending of this over 15-year-old game, then here’s a short summary:

‘Mario, Peach, Bowser and Luigi travel through multiple dimensions ‘Rick and Morty’-style with a butterfly (and friends) to stop an evil, depressed vampire man and his cronies from destroying every reality with a world-ending black hole born out of ‘forbidden love’.

…TL;DR: Peach and Bowser get married; hijinks ensue.’

So… if that wasn’t enough to convince you, I don’t know what will. Stop reading, play it, then come back for the epic conclusion to my review.

…

…

…What did you think? Did you cry? Yeah. We all cried. It’s just that kind of game.

Its darker moments are, surprisingly, some of the most engaging aspects of the story: The actual deaths of characters, the deletion of entire worlds – they’re some of what people most fondly remember about this 100% very cheerful little game. I always found it very character-driven, and it somehow manages to touch on more serious topics with a gentle maturity that you wouldn’t really expect from a 3+ kid’s game.

A character’s story I personally feel is overlooked is the token dim-witted himbo O’Chunks. He’s one of Count Bleck’s main cronies and the first actual boss of the game. He’s written to be a funny, crude character who shouts hilarious catchphrases like ‘GRAH-GOOGLY’ and farts himself away when he’s beaten. At first glance, he’s the epitome of ‘kids-game humour’, and for the most part, he is.

Then Chapter 5-2 happens.

Just a reminder: this is a MARIO game.

This made me stop and stare when I first played. The moment was short-lived, of course – gotta keep that age rating down! – but I was still astonished that this game even attempted to address such mature themes, and with the token dimwit comic-relief! But it doesn’t end here, folks! May I gently remind you, dear reader, that this outlandish codge-up of a game is also…

…a love story?

As hopeless as the game can feel sometimes, what with the total obliteration of Sammer’s Kingdom, or the devilish Mimi’s enslavement of Mario and Co. to pay off their crushing debt (that one hits a little too close to home), Super Paper Mario is bursting at the seams with positivity and encouragement. Whether it be Tippi’s overwhelming gratitude for Mario and friends after her rescue releasing one of the seven Pure Heart maguffins, or the beautiful climax of the game – Tippi and Count Bleck’s own wedding – Super Paper Mario is a game about friendships, a whole heap of other comedic and heart-warming moments I didn’t have room to mention, and – most importantly – love.

Super Paper Mario, in many ways, is THE prime example on how to NOT make an RPG.

But it’s also one of the comfiest, darkest, over-the-top and most daring stories I’ve ever played. I’d whole-heartedly implore anyone looking for a charming story, and maybe even a bit of a cry, to give this tale a try…

…just don’t play it if you’re looking for good gameplay, K?

#spm #english #english coursework #i apologise i couldnt fit in francis :( #mario #super paper mario #gaming #videogames #there was also on on world of goo so i'll have to find that as well #be on the lookout! >:D