#getting to yes audiobook

[sabh0]

shitpost bc apparently doing the requests isn't working against artblock, sorry chuuya is currently searching for his hat

[intheconfessiondial]

Redraw of the cape post, because that entire concept deserved better than the illustration I gave it.

[charmanderxerneas]

Art for Chapters 2 and 3 of my fnaf dungeon meshi fanfiction

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Your art is great at finally getting me to read books. After over eight years of non-committal deliberation on wether or not to read it I finally started the Raven Cycle bc I was like “Okay, if Annie likes it enough to draw cool fan-art about it I’ll read it”

Lmao i hope you have fun…. I cant even say if this series is good or bad anymore I’ve read it so many times it’s just deeply ingrained in me. So deeply ingrained in fact that i typed that out and realized i was almost directly quoting Dream Thieves-

Anyway asdfghj hope you enjoy them i hope i have not lead you astray…. Say hi to Ronan Lynch for me….

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

How You Get The Girl

Contemporary romance

follows a basketball star who left the sport 8 years ago after an injury, who unexpectedly becomes the foster parents for her niece who she encourages to join the high school basketball team

and the team’s coach, who happens to have been a massive fan, and also needs a co-coach

they start to become friends, and when the latter reveals her insecurities about dating and relationships, the other offers to practice dating her so she can figure things out. but of course they start to fall for each other..

lesbian MC, questioning demisexual MC

[constantvariations]

Started listening to A Court of Thorns and Roses out of morbid curiosity. Currently just under 4 hours in, and I have some Thoughts

Knowing that this is something of a Beauty and the Beast retelling, I find Feyre's family dynamics odd. Returning to them is her entire goal in Prythian, yet she doesn't even like any of them, which is why Maas had to shoehorn in that dumb vow Feyre made to her dying mother - whom she also didn't like all that much - at the age of eight. Her goal rings so hollow that I roll my eyes every time I hear about it or that stupid promise

This goal has another annoying layer to it. Escape takes up pretty much all of Feyre's inner monologue, yet the audience knows the story won't let it happen. Can't have a BatB if the Belle manages to flee before the romance has had time to grow. This makes the story drag something awful. There were times I stopped the audio because her plans left me groaning in frustration. If I never hear the word "treaty" ever again, it'll be too soon

And the way she avoids Tamlin at every opportunity is just wild. Even if he's the embodiment of everything gone wrong in her life, why would Feyre pass up a tour of the estate? Why not take the opportunity to study "the enemy" up close? Why go patrolling with the guy who blantantly and repeatedly states how much he wants her dead for what she did instead of the guy who is preventing everyone from doing that? Some of this can be chalked up to her being young, insecure, and untrained in social skills like her sisters, but it's so contrived at times

Considering how Feyre literally skinned his best friend, thus preventing any sort of dignified funeral service, Tamlin's incredibly tame, especially in comparison to the og Disney!Beast. He doesn't yell at her, doesn't threaten, doesn't make demands outside of, "please stop doing things that will get you killed." First impressions aside, Tamlin reads as more socially awkward and irritable than a beast with a dangerous temperment. I find his lameness quite charming, even if Feyre doesn't

It's odd that I'm so far in the book yet the only real interaction between our supposed love interests is the night that Tamlin fought the bog(?). I think this changed something for Tamlin, but Feyre remains unchanged towards him. She's incredibly stubborn, a trait I both have and admire, but her unwillingness to look beyond Tamlin's claws despite how courteous he is to his friend's killer is becoming ridiculous and dragging the plot. Just let him teach you to read already!

Another thing that's ridiculous is Feyre and her bad habit of knowing something is off yet doing a dumb thing anyway. With the wolf, she explicitly says that a creature of that size must be a fairy and kills it because of that only to backtrack and say it's not a fairy. This could be excused for adrenalin/first time killing a sentient being panic brain, but it happens again when her "father" comes to fairy town to rescue her. Feyre inwardly questions how he got to Prythian on a busted knee and some other logistical discrepancies but is willing to follow him into the woods despite these thoughts. She has absolutely zero survival instincts in fairy land. It's like she's trying to die in the dumbest way possible

I can already tell this is going to worm into my brain like RWBY and the MCU. I have a fondness for stories of great potential and even greater squandering. The characters are fun if ill used, and I'm curious about the world along with all the things I've been spoiled about

[jorrated]

desperately trying to NOT fall into a christian/ demonology mythology study hyperfixation again i cant take it

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 59

Chapter; Highlights

His ears still rang with the din of battle, his breath a rasping beat echoed by Aelin.

Atop the blood-slick battlements, their allies and companions around them, Rowan wordlessly passed Aelin the waterskin. She drank deeply, then handed it to Fenrys.

An unleashing and release. That's what the battle had been for his mate.

Hasar at last looked Aelin over. "I heard you put on a show today."

Rowan braced himself.

Aelin turned from the battlefield and inclined her head. "You look as if you did, too." Indeed, Hasar's ornate armor was splattered with black blood. She'd been in the thick of it, atop her Muniqi horse, and had ridden right up to the gates. But the princess made no further comment.

Irritation, deep and nearly hidden, flashed in Aelin's eyes. Yet she didn't speak again-didn't push the princess about their next steps. She just watched the battlefield once more, chewing on her lip.

She'd barely stopped during the battle, halting only when there had been no more Valg left to kill. And in the minutes since the walls had been cleared, she'd remained quiet— distant. As if she was still climbing out of that calm, calculating place she'd descended into while fighting. She hadn't bothered to remove any of her armor. The bronze battle-crown was caked with blood, her hair matted with it.

Chaol's father had taken one look at her armor, at Rowan's, and gone white with rage.

For now. They had bigger things to consider. Things that drove his mate to gnaw on her lip. When Prince Kashin's army might arrive, if they would indeed head northward to Terrasen. If today had been enough to win them over.

"Any nearby are to run here. Those farthest out will have to flee for the forest." Rowan met Aelin's stare. Her hands began shaking.

This cannot end here, she seemed to say.

Panic—panic indeed flared in her eyes. Rowan gripped her trembling hand and squeezed.

But there was no truth or lie that might soothe her. No truth or lie to save the army on the plain.

Something had gone wrong. Something was wrong.

The battlefield stretched into the distance, healers darting amongst the felled bodies with white banners high to indicate their locations. So many. So many dead and wounded. A sea of them.

Elide reached Chaol's side just as Nesryn Faliq leaped atop her beautiful ruk, launching into a dive for the army below. No-the other ruks.

Elide laid a hand on Lord Chaol's shoulder, drawing his attention from where he watched Nesryn fly off. Blood-splattered, but his bronze eyes were clear. And full of terror.

Any message that Yrene had given Elide faded from her memory. "What's wrong?"

It was Aelin who answered, her bloodied armor strange and ancient. A vision of old. "The dam is going to break," the queen said hoarsely. "And wipe away anyone on the plain."

Oh gods. Oh gods.

Elide glanced between them, and knew the answer to her next question: What can be done?

Nothing.

Ruks took to the skies, flapping toward them, soldiers in their talons and clinging to their backs.

"Has anyone warned the healers?" Elide pointed to the white banners waving so far out into the plain. "The Healer on High?" Hafiza was down there, Yrene had said.

Silence. Then Prince Sartaq swore in his own tongue, and sprinted for his golden ruk. He was spearing for the battlefield within seconds, his shouts ringing out. Kadara dipped every few moments, and when she rose again, another small figure was in her talons. Healers. Grabbing as many of them as he could.

Elide whirled to her companions as soldiers began running for the keep, trampling corpse and injured alike. Orders went out in the language of the southern continent, and more soldiers on the battlefield leaped into action.

"What elsewhat else can we do?" Elide demanded. Aelin and Rowan only stared toward the battlefield, watching with Fenrys and Gavriel as the ruks raced to save as many as they could. Behind them, Princess Hasar paced, and Chaol and his father murmured about where they might fit everyone in the keep. Those who survived.

Elide looked at them again. Looked at all of them.

And then asked quietly, "Where is Lorcan?" None of them turned. Elide asked, louder, "Where is Lorcan?" Gavriel's tawny eyes scanned hers, confusion dancing there. "He ... he went out onto the battlefield during the fighting. I saw him just before the khagan's troops reached him."

"Where is he?" Elide's voice broke. Fenrys faced her now. Then Rowan and Aelin. Elide begged, voice breaking, "Where is Lorcan?" From their stunned silence, she knew they hadn't so much as wondered.

Elide whirled to the battlefield. To that endless stretch of fallen bodies. Soldiers fleeing. Many of the wounded being abandoned where they lay. So many bodies. So, so many soldiers down there.

"Where." No one answered. Elide pointed toward the battlefield and snarled at Gavriel, "Where did you see him join with the khagan's forces?"

"Nearly on the other side of the field," Gavriel answered, voice strained, and pointed across the plain. "I—I didn't see him after that."

"Shit," Fenrys breathed.

Rowan said to him, "Use your magic. Jump to the field, find him, and bring him back."

Relief crumpled Elide's chest.

Until Fenrys said, "I can't."

"You didn't use it once during the battle," Rowan challenged. "You should be fully primed to do it."

Fenrys blanched beneath the blood on his face, and cast pleading eyes to Elide. "I can't."

Silence fell on the battlements.

Then Rowan growled, "You won't." He pointed with a bloody finger to the battlefield.

"You'd let him die, and for what? Aelin forgave him." His tattoo scrunched as he snarled again.

"Save him."

Fenrys swallowed. But Aelin said, "Leave it, Rowan." Rowan snarled at her too. She snarled right back. "Leave it."

Some unspoken conversation passed between them, and the hope flaring in Elide's chest went out as Rowan backed down. Gave Fenrys an apologetic nod. Fenrys, looking like he was going to be sick, just faced the battlefield again.

Elide backed away a step. Then another.

Lorcan couldn't be dead.

She would know if he were dead. She would know it, in her heart, her soul, if he were gone.

He was down there. He was down there, in that army, perhaps injured and bleeding out — No one stopped her as Elide raced inside the keep. Each step limped, pain cracking through her leg, but she didn't falter as she hit the interior stairwell and plunged into the chaos.

She had made him a promise.

She had sworn him an oath, all those months ago.

I will always find you.

Soldiers and healers fled up the stairs, shoving past Elide. The shouting was near-deafening, bouncing off the ancient stones. She battled her way down, sobbing through her teeth.

I will always find you.

Pushing, elbowing, bellowing at the frantic people who ran past her, Elide fought for each step downward. Toward the gates.

People screamed, a never-ending flood surging up the stairs. Still Elide pushed her way down, losing a step here, another there. They did not even look at her, even try to clear a way as they flowed upward. It was only when Elide lost another step that she roared into the stairwell, "Clear a path for the queen!"

No one listened, so she did it again. She filled her voice with command, with every ounce of power that she'd seen the Fae males use to intimidate their opponents. "Clear a path for the queen!"

This time, people pressed against the walls.

Elide took the small opening, and screamed her order again and again, ankle barking with every step down.

But she made it. Made it to the chaotic lower level, to the open gates teeming with soldiers. Beyond them, bodies stretched into the horizon. Warriors and healers and those bearing the wounded rushed toward any stairwell they could find.

Elide managed all of five limping steps toward the open gate before she knew it would be impossible. To cross the field, to find him on the endless plain, before that dam burst and he was swept away. Before he was gone forever.

He was not dead.

He was not dead.

I will always find you.

Elide scanned the gates, the skies for any sign of a ruk that might carry her. But they soared to the upper levels, crawling with soldiers and healers, some even depositing their charges onto the mountain face itself. And at ground level, none would hear her cries for help.

No soldiers would stop, either.

Elide scanned the other end of the gates' entryway.

Beheld the horses being led out from their stables by frantic handlers, the beasts bucking at the panic around them as they were hauled toward the teeming ramps.

A black mare reared, her cry a sharp warning before she slashed her hooves at the handler. Lord Chaol's horse. The handler shrieked and fell back, barely grasping the reins as the horse stomped, her ears flat to her head.

Elide did not think. Did not reconsider. She limped for the horses and the stables.

She said to the frantic handler, still backing away from the half-wild horse, "I'll get her." The man, white-faced, threw her the reins.

"Good luck." Then he, too, ran.

The mare Farasha-yanked so hard on the reins that Elide was nearly hurled across the stones. But she planted her feet, leg screaming, and said to the horse, "I have need of you, fierce-heart." She met Farasha's dark, raging eyes. "I have need of you." Her voice broke.

"Please."

And gods above, that horse stilled. Blinked.

Horses and handlers streamed past them, but Elide held firm. Waited until Farasha lowered her head, as if in permission.

The stirrups were low enough thanks to Lord Chaol's long legs that Elide could reach them. She still bit down on her shout as her weight settled on her bad ankle, as she pushed, and heaved herself into Farasha's fine saddle. A small mercy, that they had not even had time to unsaddle the horses after battle. A set of what seemed to be braces hung from its sides, surely to keep Lord Chaol stabilized, and Elide unhooked them. Any weight, anything to slow her, had to be discarded.

Elide gathered the reins. "To the battlefield, Farasha."

With a whinnying cry, Farasha plunged into the fray.

Soldiers leaped from their path, and Elide did not stop to apologize, did not stop for anyone, as she and the black mare charged toward the gates. Then through them.

And onto the plain.

[uwudonoodle]

Me and my partner figured out how to sync both of our headphones to my phone. Now we can listen to audiobooks together when we go to the gym. Currently reading The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern.

[coconut530]

I’ve caught another one, fellas

[joyful-patient-faithful]

Local libraries getting rid of physical medias such as newspapers, magazines, cds, dvds, and audiobooks is turning experiencing art into a privilege instead of a right but I don't think you guys are ready for that conversation

[umbracirrus]

Spotify loves recommending some wild shit to me sometimes 😂

[queenerdloser]

gotta say it's a little wild to me that the reading community has decided that audiobooks aren't "real reading" considering humanity has spent thousands of years with a oral storytelling tradition and only a couple hundred with a widespread literate tradition. before books became so cheap and affordable everyone could get their own copy, reading out loud to a group (your family, your friends) was extremely commonplace. humanity has shared stories orally since the dawn of storytelling. like stop being snobby about how people consume books but also if anyone should get to be snobs about what counts as "real reading" it's probably audiobook people.

[cher-horowitz]

[transannabeth]

phantom of manhattan is a truly terrible book in like a thousand different ways but it is peak hilarious for being like “yeah that kid can’t be raoul’s because UMMMMM he got shot in the dick”

[constantvariations]

The most annoying problem of rwby is how it will say something like "the White Fang assassinates board members of the SDC" while never actually following up on it. We spend several seasons in Atlas and not once does this come up

Despite Weiss literally being the one projected to take over the company, she never interacts with the business and the danger attached to it. No board members popping in to talk to her or Jacques, no guards talking of upping security as a result of another attempted attack, no personal escorts for any of the Schnees whenever they go to the recital

The show says that Schnees and associates are under constant threat by the White Fang, a threat that should have escalated after the fall of Beacon, but nothing in the show's actions even suggest this. Jacques only complaint is about the embargo costing him money, Winter has washed her hands of the SDC entirely, Whitley's focus is being Weiss's annoying (affectionate) little brother, and Willow barely exists

Yet rabids will call you stupid and illiterate for asking the show to... show these things. Just because things are said or things like guards and spies are logical for situations like this doesn't mean that the story gets to slack off in implementing these elements

Shows are akin to a court case. You can't just point at someone and cry, "They're a murderer!" You have to establish a timeline, motive, and method, and provide physical evidence like the weapon used or footage of the person at the scene of the crime. No jury worth its salt would condemn a person on he-said, she-said

You want me to care that board members are being assassinated? Introduce me to them so I can either want them protected or pray for their death. You want me to believe that the Schnees are under constant threat? Have Willow be paranoid to the point of never going outside and never letting Weiss and Whitley go anywhere without a ton of security. You want me to worry about spies? Ilia would've been perfect here! Have her play the demure servant while we see her sneaking into Jacques's office to steal SDC documents

Not only is relying on distant dialogue and exposition a lazy way of establishing elements of the world, not only is it a surefire way for folks w bad memory/auditory processing issues (me) to miss out on important information, it's fucking BORING