#tfbs book

[comicgoblinwrites]

Okay y’all. It’s 11/30, and I only have one more chapter to write in my book and then it’s done.

A lot of this month was eaten up by executive dysfunction, holidays, and bauldur’s gate 3 (like, all consuming*, idk what to say) so I wasn’t quite as on the “finish my book” train as I meant to be.

But I’m almost there and I still have the whole day and a 4 hour train ride.

Wish me luck.

(*i do have a lot of bg3 snippets and sketches, which you’ll probably see next month. I don’t usually write fic but gods damn this game is something else. I’ve not been this consumed by media since reading the locked tomb.)

[comicgoblinwrites]

Monsters!

I’m finally getting to a big monster fight scene in The Fire Between Stars that I’ve been wanting to write for a while and it’s been a blast.

TFBS Is heavily influenced by dnd fantasy, but surprisingly this is the first actually monster/creature they’ve encountered.

Plant monster! I love plant monsters.

(Trying a new thing and answering in the rb instead of the tags???)

It's so quiet on here today. Tell me about what you're writing?? Pretty please.

[bugieeeee]

@ifuckinghatebriansella tagged me in this even though I already know what they're stealing from my room

No pressure Tagging @i-am-not-to-be-perceived @myvirtuesuncounted @wellmanneredthief @somedancingdoodles @thatwasntlikeridingabikeuasshole @youmustfixyourheartt @iveofficiallygonemad

[smellerbug]

I’m outing myself as listening to The Front Bottoms but these lyrics are so The Locked Tomb coded I mean…

“There's comfort in the bottom of a swimming pool

I'm holding my breath for you

There's no doubt in my mind that if you could then you would try

To crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through”

Like??? Gideon and Harrow anyone?

[buyingaradspaceship]

tfb’s unreleased stuff slaps so hard I want to explode, the next grandma album still has so many potential songs they could make another two or three eps

the bass is too loud? holy shit. the cops? hell yeah. push ups? oh cool. taking my uzi to the gym? slaying. christians vs indians? yeah baby. molly? fucking yes. I wrote a book? oh my god. if I missed any they’re fucking masterpieces too

[skeeverboy]

list of american psycho references in the front bottoms (disclaimer i haven’t read the book this is secondhand information)

- obviously the lyric “i wanna read american psycho again” from the boredom is the reason

- “lipstick covered magnet” is derived from a quote, same with “the pain is constant and sharp”

- “taking my uzi to the gym” is a chapter title

[thegirlsread]

i’m losing my mind, the front bottoms are coming to the uk

[milo-is-rambling]

Someone tell me how to make me not hate myself and make my family not think I’m a bitch and make me want to see my family or drive back down the coast or stay in strange places or do anything other than kill myself I mean whaaatttt haha what a weird thing to say *stares directly into the camera knowingly*

[waterfall13]

can someone tell me if im the only one that thinks skeleton by tfb is remus in atyd 

[canon-in-too-deep]

Fonts Part 2: Drop Caps

Continuing on from my last post on body fonts, I thought I'd do a little highlight of some great fonts to use for drop caps.

I love drop caps. Drop 'em like it's hot, amiright? Big and dramatic and so very eye catching, a drop cap is a great way to start a new chapter.

See below the break for my full post on drop caps. Links will be provided to where you can get the fonts discussed for free. Beverages and snacks will be bring-your-own only. This is an amateur session. If you're looking for profession opinions and tips, uh, you've come to the wrong place.

So when I'm adding drop caps to any text, I always figure out what body font I'm using first. The body font is like the main course of the meal, and the drop cap is the fine wine I'm trying to pair with it. After all, you wouldn't have a nice chianti with a tuna salad, would you? (I wouldn't actually know. I don't drink wine. But I still wouldn't pair comic sans with anything) It's all down to preference, of course, but some combinations just work more easily than others.

First off, if the body font I'm working with is a bit fancier and more detailed (like IM FELL English), I'll usually just use that same font for the drop caps. Using the same font for the body text and the drop caps can look great and be very aesthetically pleasing, as it gives the overall text a clean, consistent, and balanced appearance. Having the same font for different uses throughout a text while varying the font's size and weight and format is a great way to design something pleasing to the eye and not overwhelm or confuse the reader (and it'll save yourself some time, too. Honestly, picking designs and fonts take up quite a significant portion of my typesetting time).

It's like instead of adding toppings to your ice cream, you just put on another scoop of vanilla. Delicious, and classic. You'll also notice that I use small caps in the first line along with the drop cap. I usually do either the entire first line, or just the first 3-5 initial words marked as small caps. I like small caps with a drop cap. It's like an extra dollop of whip cream on top of your ice cream. Not necessary, but still yummy. ...

Of course, choosing a font that's different from your body font to use for your drop caps can be super fun and dramatic. It'll make your text stand out even more, and can add a lot of character to a design. I've seen some really creative uses of drop caps with graphics/ornaments added in, but for this post I'm sticking to just the fonts.

This one here uses Initials TFB. Initials TFB is one of my favorite fonts to use for drop caps. This font has a lot of really nice detail to it. It's gothic. Fancy. Super duper dressed up. And it's square shaped! Which means it's easy to format and place in your text and won't stick out where it's not wanted. It's like a really nice clip on time. Perfect for formal occasions and convenient to use. (And those occasions can range easily from the classic to gothic to romantic to fantastic.)

Next is another square, gothic font! May I present, her majesty, Medieval Victoriana? Now, this one is pretty similar to Initials TFB, but it has a different vibe to it than the previous font. Also super detailed and fancy, the designs for Medieval Victoriana are a bit cleaner and crisper. It's available in two styles, one with the letter in the center white filled, and one with it black filled (as pictured above).

And now we have something different! Not square shaped! ...Though still gothic (I use a LOT of gothic fonts. They just work so well for so many books! Makes me feel like a medieval monk scribing away). This font is Augusta. It's a medium sort of fancy. Not as full on, in your face as the previous two fonts, but still enough to get into the grand ballroom without making a scene. What I like about this font is that it has a lot of character and flare, but is still decently legible and not so overpowering that it takes too much away from the body font. Augusta also has some very nice lower case letters, making it also a great font for headers and titles (which you might want to pair up with your drop caps, to limit the number of fonts used on a single page). Well dressed and versatile, this font could be a British super spy undercover at the bar. If that bar was behind a medieval printing press.

Cloister Black is like the last font, but with a half dozen more points dropped into fancy smanciness. It's got a lot more going on, and can hit that medieval vibe just as easily as it can groove to a newsstand. It may be a bit harder to tell what letter has been drop capitized, but hey, readers should be able to figure it out from context clues, right? Sometimes legibility is the price of swag, as the hip cool kids say.

This next font is WW2Blackletter, which comes in two different versions (as pictured above): pointy bottom version, or swoopy bottom version. WW2Blackletter is a super duper fun font, and very unique. Just look at that sucker. Lots of character. Grungy. Gritty. Daring you to walk to through the dark forest to the black castle on the night of the full moon. It's definitely a font that requires careful pairing with the right story. Kind of like a guest that shows up covered in fake blood, dressed in all black with a cloak and a set of plastic fangs in their mouth. On any other day, it might seem out of place. But for Halloween, it's perfect.

Okay, now for something a little more different. Takota is a nice brush stroke font. Simple and straight to the point, very bold, easy to read, and works well for more modern texts. Just looking at this drop cap, you can practically feel the thick ol' paintbrush in your head, bristles dripping with fresh paint, as you delicately tap that 'T' key on your keyboard.

I had to of course include at least one script font with some nice swoopy cursive letters. This is Exmouth, a font which I haven't gotten a chance to use a lot of yet, but of which, I am very much enjoying the swoopiness. Fonts with exaggerated flourishes like these are great for period pieces and literary classics. They look like something a handsome gentleman suitor would sign at the end of their letter confessing their deep, unrequited love. Big swoopy cursive letters like these, however, can be a pain to work with as drop caps. They're drama queens. Queen Bees. That mean girl from that one movie that always dresses in coordinated pink. For this example here, I had to adjust the size of the drop cap and add in some extra space between the T and the H so that the drop cap wouldn't be thrusting itself into that first line. If you have the time, it can definitely be worth it to use curved/slanted drop caps like this. They just usually require a bit of fandangling to play nice with the other letters.

... Aaaand that brings up to the end of the list! I was actually going to include some more fonts, but I think this post has reached enough heights as a wall 😅 (maybe I'll have to do a Part 2.5). I was also a bit more limited in what fonts I could recommend, as I wanted to make sure they were all 100% free for use, personal or commercial. If you made it to the end, thanks for reading, and I hope this was helpful!

[ktsumu]

Hello Kit! I have been possessed by Takahiro Hanamaki brainrot for the past couple of days. He is my absolute favorite. Do you have any thoughts about him?

if it's involving the seijoh 4 i'm going to have thoughts about it.

most is under the cut because unlike suna’s, this is literally a mess of sfw and nsfw sorry friends

overall, trust fund baby!makki is my favourite. i feel like it's so funny and would explain how the motherfucker NEVER has a job. if anyone in that group is a dealer, it might just be him! (MR i hope you see this)

he’s such a dork too. you two play cards and losses are DEVASTATING. he loses go fish and slumps out of his chair and dramatically drops his cards on the table and

if matsukawa is the king of the deepstroke makki is the king of doggy overall. on the couch? doggy. on the bed? doggy. in the car? doggy. outside on the grass? doggy. in the doghouse? doggy

since he’s the group TFB, all of the seijoh 4 make puppy dog eyes at him when they go out to eat. they’ll have a six dollar sandwich and they’re like ughhhhh this is soooo expensiveeeee

he gives in every time

also makki is so good at aftercare too, sort of funny with it too. will make an ill timed joke when he’s cleaning you up with a towel and evilly laugh when he dodges the pillow you swing down at him

suck his dick and he’ll see god, he’s a blowjob man

favourite place to have sex is probably your bed BUT don’t disqualify him as a car sex guy because i firmly think he is. he takes pride in making you willing to fuck him in a car and the aspect of being in semi public

he has such good car sex playlists too like it’s his normal playlist but it works a little too well. everything is planned.

you pick your side of the bed. it doesn’t matter if he’s slept on that side for all four years he’s lived in his apartment, when you move in and choose that one it is YOURS

hogs the sheets though so now there’s an extra blanket at the bottom of the bed in case he does it again

also makki hasn’t read a book in 5 years so if you’re a bedtime reader, buy him one and he’ll actually read with you because he’s sweet like that

his favourite genre of movies is comedy but he fucks up a psych thriller (when you ask he says it’s whatever yours is but whatever)

he buys you flowers but they have absolutely RIDICULOUS cards in them. like “thanks for letting me cum inside” or “happy toaster-versary” (the year after you bought him a new toaster when you realized only one side of his was working)

he's very boyfriend but also really wants to be husband. ♡

[comicgoblinwrites]

Heads Up, 7 Up

Tagged by @mjjune !!

Share 7 lines, tag 7 people:

@writewithfire, @faelanvance @kiraofthewind @gailynovelry @author-audrey-simmons @arijensineink @gummybugg

From a hatch in the floor next to the engine, the Engineer—Wina—popped up. Her hair was staticky, and the air smelled like electricity and magic. “I didn’t break her,” she said. “I saved the ship.”  “So why are we out of the stream?” “A little ‘thank you, Wina, for saving my ship’ would be nice.” “Thank you. Now what happened?”

--from The Fire Between Stars (The Ember Arcanum book 1)

[nowoyas]

the past half hour wasn't real - Miguel O'Hara x Reader

M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: continuing the trend of using tfb lyrics whenever I don't know how to title things. almost didn't post this one and definitely didn't edit this one but it's cheaper than acquiring a therapist <3

Summary: Miguel accidentally startles you in exactly the wrong way. Your behavior may require an explanation.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, panic attacks, past sexual assault

Word count: ~2700

You've been hurt before. Past lovers and your own stupidity mostly, if we're looking at number instances alone. But that's not what I'm talking about.

It isn't something you talk about. Once, you'd gotten fed up with your own self-destructive coping mechanisms, reached out, and booked an appointment with a therapist.

The day came, and you freaked out, canceled, and told yourself you'd never try to speak about what happened again.

And really, that wasn't a problem. You dealt with it how any normal person would: you closed off. You became Only The Employee or Only The Hero and occasionally let work acquaintances talk you into 1-3 dates with a guy who you would inevitably break it off with because you have numbed yourself out to that shit. Once or twice, you managed relationships longer. Those, too, fell apart.

Granted, at first, you tried not to. You tried to be daring and open and honest with partners. You tried to tell them: you had been hurt before. You might be a little cagey from time to time, you might have limits that don't make sense, but it is only because you have been hurt and you will spend the rest of your life navigating it.

That didn't work.

It didn't work because instead they saw you as cracked and damaged, or else extraordinarily fragile, and they would never touch you until, eventually, they moved on, and you would return to being Only the Employee and Only the Hero.

That was until you met Miguel and the others.

Hundreds and hundreds of people—all just like each other and, to a lesser degree, just like you. Spider-mutated heroes from different dimensions, working together to keep the multiverse in one coherent-incoherent piece. And Miguel, at the center of it all, Atlas holding up the world on his shoulders.

Miguel, who re-invigorated your life and, whether he realized it or not, yanked you violently out of depression.

Miguel, who, by taking you back through that portal with him and the others, allowed you to realize that while you were frequently Only The Hero, you were not The Only Hero.

Miguel, who called you in to help with an anomaly and found you emotionally rotting in your suit and didn't force you to drag yourself out anyway.

Miguel, who quietly sent a pair of Spiders to your dimension for a little bit so you could ride the waves of the anniversary of the day That Man Hurt You until they finally left you crashed on the shore long enough to stand again.

It was little wonder that you fell head over heels for him. It was rare that he let others see the humanity in him long enough to be registered, but he let you see enough that there was never any hope for you to begin with.

And that, my friend, is exactly the fucking problem.

Because you have been hurt before.

Maybe you did careen into a relationship of sorts with him—you're pretty sure you're exclusive, at least, given how little capacity either of you seem to have for entertaining the idea where even one person is concerned, and you spend time together and he lets you see himself a way that no one else ever sees him: human, tender, kind. Of course there is kindness in his actions day-to-day, but it's always masked, beneath his unmasked, flat tone and the seemingly cold logic present.

You know he has not been completely vulnerable with you. This is okay, because it's not as if you've been vulnerable with him.

You have pushed yourself through, because you love him. You have let him kiss you, because you love him. You have given him affection until he breaks because he needed it and you love him.

You have not had sex with him.

And oh, you've tried. You've told yourself a million times—he is not Him, he is nothing like Him, he would never hurt you the way He hurt you. These are all true statements. Factually, there is not a single shred of doubt to be had in these points.

Except trauma does not care about what is true now. It is determined to remind you, again and again, that You Have Been Hurt Before. You, conversely, are determined to tell capital-T Trauma to suck your fucking dick about it and fuck off so you can live a normal, well-adjusted life as a superhero dating an alternate-dimension superhero.

So you push yourself. You do not initiate, but you don't run away, because for once in your life you have enough love to stay, and anyways if you ran, he would chase you, and you wouldn't be able to keep it together.

It is late, and there has been a lull in anomalies to contend with lately, and you have just spent a wonderful day with Miguel. You don't track time like normal people do, so you can't say how long you've been together, just that it's been a long enough time that it's not really unfounded when you both crash at your apartment and you invite him to spend the night.

You have unspoken boundaries that he has effortlessly sensed and not once attempted to cross, so tonight, you don't expect him to walk up behind you sitting on the edge of your bed and wrap tender arms around your waist or press a sweet kiss to the back of your neck.

To be fair, he does not expect you to freeze.

He does not expect you to jolt away, to shove him with all your force, for whimpering pleas to pass your lips between breaths that turn to gasps, for you to settle on the floor seven feet away and grab harshly at your hair just to find some way to ground yourself.

The reactions are automatic. They have to be, because it is no longer you in your body in the room with him. It is memories, and it is fear, and if you could bring yourself to do anything beyond pulling your hair and hyperventilating, you'd be halfway out the window by now, whether it was open or not.

He's in front of you in a second, eyes searching, almost wounded, and the little part of you that's still in your head wants to apologize, to tell him it's not his fault, fucking hell this is Miguel he'll never—

But you can't. All you can think of is that night, of pleading nos, of the pain of it all and waking up and just crying for hours.

"Tell me what I did wrong, cariño, and I will never do it again. Please."

His voice is grounding. He is stricken, to see you this way. He is careful not to touch you, not to move too fast until you finally manage to worm a hand out of your hair to find something to claw at, to find a source of pain to bring you back down to Earth (667, in your case), and then he is lightning as he pulls your hands away from yourself.

"[name]. I need you to look at me and see me. Can you do that?"

You can do that.

You meet his eyes, focus as hard as you can on the place where his hands hold yours, the look in his eyes—calculating beyond the hurt. He's trying to figure you out.

He is counting, and it takes little time for you to understand that you are to follow the numbers with your breaths. You've played this game before. You try your best to match him, and he is encouraging and kind even when your attempts to just take a slow breath are interspersed with involuntary inhales and hiccups.

The pads of his thumbs, calloused and rough, smooths over the back of your hands in little circles, and when you struggle to breathe and struggle to listen, they, too, bring you back down. Each pass of his thumb feels like a confession of things you have not yet said, despite the time:

Swipe. I love you. Swipe. I love you. Swipe. I love you.

Time moves weirdly coming down from panic attacks, and so it is impossible to say how long it takes you to come back down enough to speak, how long he spends counting and rubbing his thumbs into your hands, how long you spend expending every effort just to breathe correctly.

When at last you can breathe and his counting stops, he does not let go of your hands. They are a reminder he is here. They are a reminder you are loved.

"I'm sorry" are the first words out of your mouth when you can think to say them, although the Everything took quite a bit out of you and you don't have many more words to give right now. You had been lucky so far; you stayed masked in front of everyone. Not your Spider mask, but the other mask, the one you never let down around others. No one suspected you to be Different before this, and now you're stuck wordless and feeling remarkably alone.

Except, hey, isn't Miguel just like you? Isn't that part of why you love him so?

He asks in low tones if he can carry you somewhere more comfortable than the floor. You nod, and he carries you to the couch, puts on the TV. He lets you be the one to fuck with the remote, seemingly understanding without you telling him that you do not have the words to direct him yourself right now. You put on something non-offensive and easy, and when he gets up with gentle words informing you that he's going to get something from the kitchen, you cling to him wordlessly.

A rumble of a laugh soothes you. "I'm just getting you something to drink."

You shoot him pleading eyes. Stay. Please stay.

"You need to drink water. I can carry you, if you don't want to be alone right now."

You unwind, offer him the tiniest of nods. He lifts you, again with ease, and carries you one-armed into your kitchen so he can get you a glass of water.

It is unbearable, how clingy you've become in such a short time. It is pathetic, how he sets you down with your glass of water and sits beside you and you immediately press into his side. He may have been the danger for a moment in your traitorous mind, but now, direct contact with him is the absolute safest place to be. He is an amazing sport for simply allowing it.

When at last you have it in you to drag words up to the surface, you're immediately apologizing all over again, and he is meeting each one with a gentle refusal.

"I don't need an apology from you. I just need to know what you need from me so that I never set you off that way again."

Your face falls, and you consider the sentence you need to pull out of yourself.

Honesty. That's important.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry."

He arches a brow. He does not buy it and does not appreciate your continued apologies.

"...I haven't always been strong enough to take care of myself. Someone I trusted a lot..." The words die in your throat. Even now, after everything, you still can't bring yourself to say them.

As it turns out, you don't need to. It is rare that Miguel emotes in a way others completely understand, beyond angry and stern, but you know heartbreak when you see it. "Oh, cariño..."

“I just got scared,” you whisper finally.

He is holding you, then, gentle and firm all at once. “You should have told me.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me.”

Now that it’s out, that fear strikes you to your core.

Miguel, who would never want to hurt you.

Who now has reason to fear that he’ll hurt you no matter what he does.

“I won’t ask you to go into detail. But if we ever run into him, I can’t be held accountable for what I’ll do.”

A bitter scoff. You rest your head against his chest, let the sound of his heartbeat soothe you. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Your arms wind around his midsection, and you gradually slide onto his lap. “Please don’t let this change how you think of me.”

“What do I have to do so that you never get the idea I might think less of you over something like this ever again?”

You shudder with the sob that rises at that, but you refuse to let yourself cry more tonight. “It isn’t that I thought you’d see me as less. It’s just… I managed to tell someone once. About what happened to me. And he pulled away. He wouldn’t touch me. Wouldn’t even look at me.”

“You’re afraid I would leave you to keep you safe.”

“Mm.” You’re glad for the position the pair of you have wound up in. You couldn’t stand to see his face right now. “I didn’t—don’t—want to lose you. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that we never had a sex life because I let you see this part of me and you decided it was better for me.”

He is silent. That is the scariest part—he is silent.

“I know you’re always putting others above you. I know you’re trying to protect all of everyone in everything you do. I realize it’s selfish to ask you not to protect me. But it is goddamn torture to be put in a little glass case to be looked at and never loved because everyone’s afraid to hurt me, and it makes it all the worse, and I am so, so tired of letting him haunt the rest of my life. Can I please be selfish?”

“It’ll be difficult,” he replies, and your heart drops. You’re already moving to untangle yourself from him when he continues: “But if you’ll talk to me, and we discuss your boundaries, and you tell me the nanosecond something feels wrong to you…”

He isn’t leaving.

He isn’t pulling away.

You sit, frozen, on his lap, and search his face with wide eyes, but there’s no hint of deception. Not that you were ever the Expressions Reader, but still. You like to think you’re learning his, and you don’t see deception there.

“I love you,” you say, and that’s not the words you intended to say, not for the first time like this. “Please don’t ever sneak up from me behind like that again. Make noise. I don’t care what noise.”

It is his turn to be stunned, and for good reason, because you’re not sure anyone expected you to drop the “I love you” tonight. For a second, you think that will turn out to be the final nail in the coffin, but then he’s peppering your face in kisses, and you flush under the attention.

He isn’t letting you kiss him back or escape the assault, and you find yourself dissolving into laughter when he holds your face still to better aim his affections. At last, when you’re reduced to a giggling mess in his arms, he grants you reprieve so he can speak.

“I promise, that’ll never happen again. I love you, too.”

You are exhausted and drained, but sitting here with him, there is warmth, and light, and hope. Tomorrow, he will return to HQ, and you will remain in this dimension to make your rounds and keep your lights on. Someday, he will tell you about the pains he carries, and on another Someday, you may give him details about yours. But it is tonight, and tonight, you will settle into one another, murmur quietly a conversation about limits and love and how to move forward.

One thing you should know: although he is scared, he will never pull away because of this. You are safe in that.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @yohoe-hoe

[dungeoncrawlergf]

thank u for tag <3 @rpgbabe

last song ive listened to: legit tattoo gun- TFB

ヽ༼ຈل͜���༽ﾉ just keeping it real

favorite place: my game rooom, look at this check my swag

favorite book(s): idk how to read but i rly liked lemony snicket growing up... still goes hard. and lotr goated 2

currently reading: ^

favorite tv show: spongebob, twin peaks, xfiles

favorite food: buffalo wings or smothered burrito

@elfpassing thats all u shawwdy <3 😋😋🍭🫧🫧😋🍭🌈

[nasoleil]

The campaign is done.

I'm overwhelmed (in a good way) and exhausted.

I never in a million years would have expected the response we got. It you compare it to other crowdfunders (even a lot of the other Booktopia projects), 54 isn't that many backers, but to me it's an astronomical number. I put our goal at $100 because I was expecting my family and friends to back the campaign and that's it, lol.

We just relaunched last year (long story, might tell it someday) and we haven't had much of a presence on social media, so the fact that 54 friggen awesome amazing people wanted to read our second book (and a lot wanted both!!) is ... incomprehensible to me.

I'm so beyond grateful and, not gonna lie, struggling a bit to process.

But there's plenty of work to be done to distract me, lol.

Got most of the formatting done in the last week of the campaign. Waiting on a proof copy of Everdark from IngramSpark (hopefully here tomorrow?? was not gonna spend $9 on shipping for a single book with tracking), once I get that I'll be able to finish optimizing the cover's print colors (a thing I had a lot of trouble with when we first published Everdark 😬).

Might assign TFB to a Bowker ISBN tomorrow and possibly input it into IngramSpark but it's my partner's birthday (tomorrow) so I'm not sure if I'll have time/the mental bandwidth lol. Either way, I'll definitely have the first (and hopefully only, ugh) proof ordered by early next week. So, pics to come!!

[thedarklightcrypt]

the trolls and their polar opposite depictions

the trolls are easily my favorite species within the skylanders universe, they have a surprising amount of lore for being average mooks. but what I find the most interesting about them is how each set of writers go for a different way of portraying them. within the TfB games, trolls are depicted as intelligent and knowing their craft (heavy machinery). its rather uncommon to see the default evil minion archetype use both brute strength and complex craftsmanship, which unfortunately leads to people frequently missing the second component of the trolls. now VV takes a different approach where most trolls are just brute strength, I consider this due to the games made by them being more... "tropey", for lack of a better description, so its not surprising that the trolls are more barbarian rather than techy. but in my opinion, where it truly gets interesting is within the skylanders books. within the mask of power & book of elements series, the trolls are portrayed almost exclusively as stinky dim-wits. also to mention is how trolls have always been associated with tech, but in the academy timeline, theyre associated with life. something minor to note, though I still find it interesting. its only within the TfB games that the mabu-troll prejudice is brought up, VV never makes any mention of it.