I love a good hateread but man it sucks when snobs think that critiquing popular genre fiction makes them smarter than the ppl that read it
That belief ignores that novels, and all art, are a medium. Blank page, blank canvas, etc.
Assigning a singular True purpose to art is reductive, and kind of silly? If you can't understand "the purpose" of an art piece, that's fine. The artist might've wanted that effect
Or maybe, just maybe, that particular artwork isn't for you.
Yeah, I think a lot of books kinda suck, that happens with art, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't exist.
I'll rant to friends, and not read more from the author, and commiserate with fellow haters. But it is not stupid to read, to find enjoyment in what others mock.
Cringe is dead, indeed.
Beyond that, the True Art idea doesn't take into account all of the ways, all the reasons, books and art are consumed.
Often, people know their fave books aren't "high art", but they still read them! After a long workday, during their rare free time, bonding with friends, or just for fun.
It actually takes quite a lot of mental energy to read and process a lot of Literature. And the themes can be a fucking downer, not everyone wants a 600 page character analysis of a horribly broken person spiraling further.
There's a reason why I am still trying to finish this fucking Dostoevsky, yet have read so many cute queer romances between attempts.
Idk man, don't hate the player. Hate the game!
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Linktober Day 6
Mask(s)
Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.
For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.
You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.
Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.
Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.
Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.
And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.
You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.
(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.
Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)
Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.
A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”
You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”
“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”
“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.
If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.
... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”
He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”
You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.
(Just in case, he lies to himself.)
You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.
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I just moved my cat into our apartment about twelve hours ago and she’s very anxious and hasn’t moved before, save for when she was a kitten and moved into our house. It is currently about 2:45 AM and I’m trying to sleep on a futon on the kitchen floor near the bathroom she chose to stay in. Unsurprisingly, I’m sleeping poorly, and now that she feels safe enough, she’s walking around and exploring, which means I can’t SLEEP. My girlfriend’s cat is territorial, and although she’s confined into a different part of the apartment, they can still see each other and I don’t want them flipping out, so I really gotta supervise.
Anyway, post = I wanna sleep
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just thinking about how many 'lives' misao lived throughout the years and as a result, how many people could potentially be wondering what happened to her, because she affected their own lives in one way or another. like in one of these previous lives, she worked as a orchardist for this wealthy family whom would open up their apple orchard in late august to the public and close it in november. so as you can imagine, misao had to uhh. Kill a lot of people within a short amount of time.
and because this wealthy family provided her with housing + a paycheck in exchange for taking care of the orchard year-round, she would literally 'stock up' on what she needed for months ahead within it as horrible as that sounds. and everything was okay for a while, as the family mostly kept their distance from the orchard since they trusted misao to take care of it. BUT they made an unexpected visit one day and discovered all of the terrible things misao stored in her fridge. + yeah... that marked the end of her time as a orchardist with this family.
but the thing is that she had this repeated customer during the time the apple orchard was open to the public who like liked her. and he wanted to properly court her. BUT by the time he tried to do so, she had disappeared without a trace from the place. and just a few weeks later, that wealthy families bodies were found washed ashore a lake a couple of miles away.
and this begs the question whether this guy is still wondering what happened to her + whether she had anything to do with what happened to the couple. but this is only one example of how misao has unintentionally left little 'breadcrumbs' of her continued existence around the world, so there's got to be more than just that man who remembers her and that's like. DAMN... misao really has messed up a lot of people's lives AHHH and she is certainly not as sneaky as she believes she is sometimes
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