#also when i say the image file i picked for this was originally fuck-off MASSIVE... converting took me like half an hour

[shadowtriovibes]

dance in a storm in my best dress

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3K

Summary: by request: "I have a fun idea! How about Sebastian and f!mc are "just friends" until one day she asks him to help her try on/give his opinion on some new dresses, and desire and spice ensue??"

"Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow," the shopkeeper says. "I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly." While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options. "Have you even put one on yet?" you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. "Merlin's beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!"

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say softly, shyly tucking your face a bit deeper into your oversized scarf as you avoid snow swirling around you.

It’s not an intense blizzard by any means, but nevertheless you appreciate that Sebastian had agreed to trudge down to Hogsmeade with you that afternoon when he could have spent the day with a dreadfully boring book by the fire in his common room, which is typically how he spends any free time he has as a seventh-year N.E.W.T.s student.

“Of course,” he says easily. “It’s about time I came up for air, so to speak.”

Despite the ongoing pressure of your final year of school, it had felt like all of Hogwarts had been abuzz about the upcoming holiday ball for what felt like weeks. Even you and your treasured trio of Slytherins had made plans to go together, and your daydreams of twirling across an enchanted dance floor in a fabulous gown had helped get you through some of the most arduous study sessions you’ve ever experienced.

With your end-of-term exams having concluded the day before, there was now only one thing standing in the way of you blowing off some steam at the ball with your best friend.

You need a dress.

Poppy had been the one to inform you that Mr. Hill had specially ordered some lovely fabrics from London as soon as he’d caught wind of an upcoming formal occasion. While it’s certainly too late to have anything custom made, you hoped you’d be able to find something in his shop that would suit you with a few minor alterations.

You’d invited Sebastian to join you on your shopping trip primarily for moral support, as the two of you were going to the ball together as friends.

(Anne had been quick to claim Ominis as her date so that she wouldn’t have to take her own brother, and you and Sebastian had been equally loath to bother asking anyone else.)

However, you suspect you may also need some help physically donning the dresses. You may not know much about what’s in fashion these days, but hearing some of your classmates boast about precisely how many garment layers they’d be wearing had nearly made your head spin.

“Do you have your dress robes?” you press him skeptically. “Anne said you were procrastinating.”

“Yes, nosy,” he laughs. “Ominis made me pick some out last weekend, and Mr. Hill should have them in for me by now.”

“Good,” you say primly. “You’ll have to try them on while we’re there and make sure they fit.”

“This is now my second trek into Hogsmeade for this silly ball,” he points out with a cheeky grin. “I hope it’s going to be as enjoyable as you lot are saying it’ll be.”

“It will,” you insist. “We all need something like this, something that’s just… joyful, I suppose.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you with a tender smile.

“Fair point,” he agrees. “Right as usual, you are.”

“You’re still surprised after all this time?” you tease him, bumping your shoulder against his while he laughs.

When the two of you walk into Gladrags, Augustus Hill perks up excitedly and slips out from behind the ornate counter.

“Ah! Just the young witch and wizard I was hoping to see today,” he crows. “Come in, come in! I dare say, it’s awfully frigid today.”

You hang up your cloaks while Mr. Hill rustles up a tray of tea for the both of you. Ever since that troll encounter years ago, the Gladrags shopkeeper has always had a soft spot for you and Sebastian, which often results in the two of you feeling downright spoiled every time you visit him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hill,” you say as you accept the warm mug he offers.

“Mister Sallow,” he says as he hands Sebastian his tea. “Your dress robes came in just this morning! Why don’t I send you off with young Otto to try it on and mark up any alterations?”

You glance warily at Sebastian, reluctant to split from him as you do your shopping.

As though he’d read your mind, Mr. Hill laughs and insists, “He won’t be kept long, my dear! Fitting a young man’s dress robes is a much simpler task than that which you have on your hands, I should expect.”

“Why don’t you just pick out some things to try while Otto works his magic?” Sebastian teases. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Once you agree, Mr. Hill sends Sebastian to the backroom while you sip your tea and discuss some of your preferences with the kindly shopkeeper. You admit to not being very knowledgeable about fashion, but you have some colors in mind that you think may suit you – as well as very strict expectations on how much range of motion you want to maintain.

“I need to be able to breathe,” you insist, glancing hesitantly at some of the impossibly small corsets in the window display.

Peering over his spectacles with a wise smile, he answers, “I think that can be arranged.”

He then begins to show you the collection of remaining dresses he has in stock. As the premier clothier for the majority of your fellow witches at Hogwarts, he doesn’t have an unlimited supply this close to the ball, but his selections don’t disappoint.

“This blue color is quite pretty,” you sigh, gingerly inspecting the sleeve of one of the dresses he offers.

“I suspected you might like that one,” he says brightly. “Let us pull it for now and select a few more for you to try on, hmm?”

You end up also selecting a red gown with a smart-looking cape that would show off your house colors brilliantly and a crisply white evening dress with delicate golden embroidery around the bottom of the skirt.

“This should do for a start,” Mr. Hill says.

“Really? No green?” Sebastian asks from behind you.

When you turn to remind him pointlessly that you aren’t actually a Slytherin, your words fail you.

He looked utterly dashing in his dress robes. At first glance, he appeared to be wearing what looked like a Muggle tuxedo, but the extra-long tails and high collar gave away that it was most certainly wizarding apparel. His jacket and pants were both inky black – so dark that they appeared to even darken the room around him, or maybe you had just lost focus of everything that wasn’t him.

Of course, having been expertly fitted by Otto, Sebastian’s robes seem to cling to every inch of him. The waistcoat makes his waist look exceptionally narrow, or perhaps it’s that his chest looks so broad. His shoulders appear to be broader as well underneath his jacket, and while the long tails might appear to shorten other men, on Sebastian they merely elevate the length of his legs.

He slips on a pair of white gloves that Otto hands him and you bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. He looks like a proper gentleman dressed like this, you think – not at all like the haphazardly-robed young man you’re used to seeing.

“Ah! Excellent,” Mr. Hill says with a clap, breaking your trance. “A perfect fit.”

“How do I look?” Sebastian asks you teasingly.

“B-brilliant,” you stammer. “It, um. Fits. You’re fit – I mean, it fits very well.”

“Of course, we’ll charm the waistcoat to whatever color you’d like to match your dress, once you’ve made your selection,” Mr. Hill explains as he gestures to the garment. “Or simply leave it white.”

“Of course we’ll match,” Sebastian says easily. “But getting this one to make a selection isn’t going to be easy.”

You scoff and turn back around to the rack of dresses to hide your persistent blush.

“Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow,” the shopkeeper says. “I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly.”

While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options.

“Have you even put one on yet?” you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. “Merlin’s beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!”

“Come and help me then!” you whine.

“Er – is that alright?” Sebastian asks Mr. Hill.

“Of course!” he exclaims. “He’s your date, it would be unchivalrous not to assist you.”

That’s when you realize that Mr. Hill probably thinks you and Sebastian are properly dating, but for reasons you don’t want to admit to yourself just yet, you don’t correct him.

You could also sorely use some help as well.

“Mind the petticoat,” you mumble as he ducks behind the screen.

You’re both quiet as Sebastian helps carefully bundle up the skirt of the dress and drape it over your upright arms, slowly working it down your body so that it doesn’t catch on any of the boning in your corset. Once the skirt gracefully pours down over your petticoat, you gently smooth the bodice and turn around so he can lace up the strings crossing your back.

“Too tight?” he asks softly.

“N-no,” you murmur. “You can even do them a bit tighter, actually.”

You gasp softly when he pulls on the strings and cinches your waist tighter, and Sebastian pauses for a beat, but you don’t instruct him to loosen it.

Once he fumblingly ties the strings together at the small of your back, he mumbles, “All set.”

He offers you a hand to steady you while you shuffle out from behind the screen. Mr. Hill immediately laves praise onto the dress, and while you agree that it is quite lovely, a glance in the mirror reveals that periwinkle blue just isn’t a color in which you shine.

“No matter,” the shopkeeper insists. “Onto the red, shall we?”

Sebastian again helps you slide the dress off up over your head and replace it with the red one, this time lacing you tightly from the start. There’s a delicate cape that goes with this one, so you turn around to face him so he can drape it over your shoulders and tie the small silk ribbons that sit just at your collarbones.

“Ought to be plenty warm in this one,” he jokes halfheartedly, trying and failing to resist the urge to sneak glances at your décolletage.

“Is the cape a bit…?” you ask quietly, wrinkling your nose. “Is it too much?”

“What?” he asks dumbly. “O-oh, no, I – I think you look great. It’s a great dress, really.”

You’re nearly as red as the dress when you emerge for a second time, and once again Mr. Hill thinks you look like “a buxom Beauxbatons beauty from the boulevards of Paris.” However, regardless of your house pride, if you’re going to be blushing like this all evening at the ball – and the odds on that are significant – you know you simply can’t go with red.

“I have one more to try on,” you tell Sebastian softly. “It’s that white one, just there.”

You notice Sebastian’s gaze linger on the ornate embroidery, a pleased look passing over his face.

“It’s stunning,” he tells you. “Shall we get it on you?”

You merely nod, not trusting yourself with words at the moment.

The moment Sebastian helps you slip into the white dress, you know you have a winner. As if imbued with magic (and perhaps it is indeed), the white silk shimmers almost like the fresh snow outside the shop window. However, instead of feeling like a proper ice princess, you feel warm all over – especially where Sebastian’s hands mindlessly reach out to trace the fine embroidered patterns on your bodice.

“You look…” he exhales. “You just need to see, come on.”

He walks you out for the last time and even Mr. Hill refrains from commenting until you twirl in front of the mirror, your skirt gracefully lifting and falling with your movement.

“...I look beautiful,” you whisper. “Oh, Mr. Hill, it’s just lovely.”

“This is the one,” Sebastian insists. “You have to pick this one, it’s hardly even a choice.”

“Your companion is correct!” Mr. Hill crows. “My dear, it’s as if that gown was made precisely for you.”

Otto comes by to charm a few simple adjustments into the fabric of the dress and you watch yourself in the mirror with wide eyes as it molds itself to your body. Now it looks just like one of those custom dresses in the illustrations that the girls in your year pour over in the shopping pages at the back of the Daily Prophet.

“I think we’re done here,” Sebastian says quietly, his eyes still fixed on that one embroidered seam at your waist where your bodice meets your skirt.

“Of course,” Mr. Hill agrees. “Let’s get you out of that crinoline so I can send you two lovebirds on your way for a nice Butterbeer or two!”

As he babbles on about how it’s just like the last time the two of you came into his shop together, you meet Sebastian’s gaze and realize both of you are steadfastly refusing to correct the man. You know that you’re blushing, but seeing him blush just as fiercely is quite revealing.

After you pay Mr. Hill and make plans for Otto to deliver the dress to the castle once the storm lets up, you and Sebastian wordlessly trudge down to Sirona’s lively pub. There you manage to snag a small booth in one of the far corners – one that you’re well aware is a popular spot for snogging.

“So…” he says softly. “Lovebirds, are we now?”

“Don’t start,” you warn him. “You know how Augustus is, it’s usually just better to let him talk than spend all afternoon trying to correct him.”

“You didn’t even try,” he observes.

You counter, “Nor did you.”

Just then Sirona drops off your drinks and Sebastian forfeits his turn in your verbal duel by taking a pointedly long sip.

Then you forfeit your own turn when you get too distracted by the bit of Butterbeer foam on his upper lip to offer anything remotely witty.

“Well, regardless,” Sebastian eventually murmurs. “You did look beautiful in that dress.”

“Thank you,” you say. “And you were very handsome in your robes.”

“Proper fit, one might say,” he retorts.

The cheek, honestly.

“Sebastian,” you say quietly. “I need you to be honest with me about something.”

“Go on,” he says, taking another long sip while you consider your words.

Slowly, you ask him, “Since we met… have you ever once thought about us being more than just friends?”

“Have I ever once thought about it?” he repeats. “Of course I have. Countless times, probably”

“Then why haven’t you ever said anything?” you ask, staring deep into your mug to avoid having to meet his eyes.

You flinch slightly when Sebastian reaches across the table and plucks one of your hands off your mug. He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you closer, and the noise in the room seems to dwindle to a whisper as he meets your gaze.

“Between you and me, you’ve always been the brave one,” he tells you earnestly. “And I’d rather have only friendship with you than ask for too much and lose you entirely. Believe it or not I have learned when to stop.”

You smile ruefully at the reminder of just how much Sebastian has grown since you chose to give him the chance to do so.

He drags his thumb across yours. “So, if you want to be brave, I’ll be brave with you.”

You exhale shakily before you finally confess, “Of course I want to, Seb.”

You’re nearly in his lap at this point, and there’s absolutely no way the conversation you’re having could be interpreted as merely friendly by any onlookers. So, you think, why not be brave?

When you kiss him, the first thing you notice is that he tastes like the caramelly richness of the Butterbeer you’d both been drinking. But then it melts away and it’s just him, just Sebastian. He’s wonderfully warm, and underneath the initial sweetness he tastes a bit like the fluxweed stem he mindlessly chews on while he studies to help him focus.

His nose slots against yours as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, and you wonder what he’s noticing about you.

But a moment later, the feeling of his warm hand on your thigh immediately makes you lose your train of thought.

“Seb,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to press your forehead to his.

“Let’s go back to the castle,” he blurts out eagerly.

You fondly roll your eyes and let him steal another kiss before you push him back with a gentle hand on his chest.

“I believe you just said something about having learned when to stop?” you tease him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he says cheekily.

“You’re just going to have to be patient, Mister Sallow,” you insist as you reach for your drink. “I thought I saw quite the gentleman in you today. I don’t suppose you could act like him until after the ball?”

“I could,” he offers. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Tell you what,” you bargain, leaning in close. “If you can be a perfect gentleman from now until the ball, I’ll let you help me put my dress on, and then afterward I’ll let you take it off.” 

You hear him loudly swallow and take a deep breath before he holds out a hand for you to shake and breathes, “You have yourself a deal, love.”

#my fic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #it's not the yule ball but not NOT the yule ball #i did so much googling about victorian era fashion but i'm probably still wrong #at least it was fun to look at pretty dresses #also when i say the image file i picked for this was originally fuck-off MASSIVE... converting took me like half an hour

[pensivetense]

*vague high pitched noises in the direction of you OG!Elias hot takes*

I love them, if you have any more pls share.

Also; OG!Elias & Jonah friendship/relationship any more thoughts on that???

Ahhh thank you very much!! I Am Not Immune To The Inherent Intimacy Of Bodysharing. I’ve rambled a bit about them here but I always have more thoughts :)

(Okay this took me FOREVER to get to I’m so sorry—the sleep deficit I’ve been running on the week has been insane and the words just didn’t want to word.)

I have a whole backstory for ogElias that lives in my head, and is completely not based in anything canonical, but anyway:

I know that Jonah probably just picks who’s most convenient at the time but Elias accidentally had to go and embody one of my deepest fears and I can’t just let that go so In My Head Jonah picks Elias initially because he’s perfectly suited to the Eye. He’s from a large old family that Jonah actually looks into carefully just in case they’re secretly Lukas-adjacent because they’re just kind of awful. (He might court the Lonely but he’s careful not to invite it in too far—he knows he’s not invulnerable to it.)

But no, the Bouchards are just what they appear to be—a family with too much money and self-importance and history to make up for what they lack in character, and who have as a result become obsessed with public optics, to the detriment of their children. Pulling off the semblance of being a stable, socially presentable family is far more important to them than actual connections, and so Elias and his siblings grow up under the oppressive eye of their parents, who are always scrutinizing how they act, speak, dress, etc. to preserve their public image. Predictably this is hell on everyone involved, but where Elias’s siblings manage to scrape together either the will to pretend or actually absorbing the philosophy, Elias is the family disappointment. Okay so in my head he’s trans, but really there are any number of things that would earn the disappointment of a family obsessed w/ optics. I imagine them as being the unfortunately gaslighty kinds of people who are always going on about how he should just act the way they want him to because ‘they know who he really is better than he does’ or some awfulness like that.

So from this he’s had to actually cultivate a very strongly self-protective sense of identity. He’s going to be him, and he’ll fight to the death to preserve his individuality against a lot of pressure to conform. But on the flipside of that, he’s actually not in a very good place because while he’s cultivated a very definitive self image, he’s terrified of letting anyone actually get close enough to see the real him through the image because the constant judgement has worn on him to the point that he doesn’t want to let anyone have the leverage of being able to dismiss or attack his sense of self.

So this is the perfect combination of traits for Jonah’s purposes—Elias is isolated, terrified of being seen because that makes him vulnerable and equally terrified of not being seen/having his selfhood acknowledged.

What Jonah utterly fails to take into account is just how well they’re suited to each other. Because both of them are incredibly self-protective people but in different directions—Jonah’s willing to sacrifice his identity in order to preserve his life, and Elias is the sort of person who would wouldn’t care about dying if he could be guaranteed an honest eulogy. So in a certain sense they share enough of a personality type and sort of survivalist mentality to fundamentally understand each other, even when they hate each other. Furthermore, Elias is so used to having to defend himself against assaults on his basic sense of self that he’s actually quite resilient in that regard, and though watching his life be stolen without anyone even noticing is literally his most primal terror, Jonah can’t just shove him to the back of their headspace and forget about him, or whatever he’s done with previous hosts. In a sense, Elias has the one rebellion left to him of choosing to remain himself after all of the rest of his choices are taken from him, and this is also partially why he ‘forgets’ to be angry at Jonah—because in a certain sense it’s an assertion of his personality to purposefully maintain all of the parts of himself, and not just what’s filtered through his fear and anger.

Usually when Jonah monologues at his hosts it’s for the purpose of torturing them, but unfortunately he finds that he actually? Enjoys Elias’s company when Elias is forgetting to be angry? And it’s about the most secure relationship he can possibly cultivate because he has total control of the situation, so he lets himself start to like Elias, in the same sort of resigned way that Elias starts to like him. For Elias, his choices have suddenly been narrowed down to nearly none, so he may as well make the best of an objectively awful situation. For Jonah, Elias is absolutely ‘safe’ because he’s powerless to affect the world in any meaningful way, so Jonah may as well indulge himself in all of the socialization he’s missed since his original body. (He has such a wide network of friends and acquaintances in the 1800s that he must be a people person.)

I think that under the right circumstances they could influence each other in positive ways—Elias could make Jonah a little less self-destructive, and having Jonah’s attention and regard would allow Elias to relax his guardedness. So in a sense they both make each other care a little more about the aspects of life that they’ve decided are disposable/unimportant to their survival by seeing those aspects through the other’s eyes, so to speak. This allows them both to actually start enjoying more things about life—Elias wants to know who Jonah is as a person and is disappointed when he finds out that Jonah doesn’t seem to put much thought or effort into himself, and Jonah’s adamant desire to not die starts to infect Elias a little with a willingness to adapt in order to survive, at which point he really starts to examine what he wants out of this relationship.

Unfortunately, this is where the inherent power imbalance rears its head, because if Jonah genuinely starts to care about Elias as a person he’s going to realise just how permanently he fucked their relationship from the start. Quite apart from the whole body-snatching thing, they can’t get the space from each other or the autonomy that a partnership of equals demands, and of course they can’t have a partnership of equals because Jonah’s got literal supernatural powers and centuries of age on Elias and is also effectively his jailer. Whether he can or cannot cede any physical autonomy to Elias if he wants, he also has to choose how much influence he allows Elias to have over him as a person and in terms of decisions.

I think by this point Elias knows absolutely everything about the Mass Ritual, because Jonah overshares because he’s socially starved and also because the Eye likes it, so the way I see it is on one extreme, Elias takes a definitive moral stand and they end up in a really yearn-y relationship where they’re always together but can’t really be together, or on the other he just says fuck it and decides to be evil, too, partially as a way of asserting control over his situation, and they end up being extremely codependent. (And of course any mixture of the two.)

But in particular, because I’m a massive fan of Elias killing Jonah, I like the former scenario because he’d do it if he got the opportunity but it would hurt, but he’d have to because I think that no matter what, if Jonah had complete control, he’d never give that up or turn aside from his immortality quest, in love or not.

More miscellany:

-I like the idea of Elias being the one who’s got the methodical/logical way of thinking, vs Jonah as the imaginative/intuitive one. Jonah’s got his moments of high drama despite the bland bureaucrat persona, and I like the idea of Elias as working as a file clerk on purpose because he likes paperwork and organisation and he could not care less about the degree that his family made him go and get.

(Original post of takes here )

#wow I’m so sorry this took so long! #(also forgive the run-on sentences and the blatant projecting) #long post #og!elias

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Reimeiroku Saito Final Chapter

have i ever mentioned how i’m a masochist when it comes to this stuff? like, i will freely admit how i actually don’t like translating and doing more unnecessary work, but I when I do something for myself, I tend to want a certain degree of quality.... which is why i decided i’d do some video editing for this... a decision that I really regret now though i can say that it’s something that i know hate more than photoshop lol. 

after i finished my yuugiroku 2 vid, i figured i might as well try to install Visual Novel Reader to see if that could offer me better visual and audio quality for this... but before I finished installing it, I went and checked what videos were available that I could use for assets and found a video made through vnr had about the same audio quality as to ppsspp... along with videos from someone other psp emulated version of this... which i then clipped for audio. 

between visual and audio quality... i’ll pick audio any day so after deciding that i’d be using some of the less grainy audio i found along with my ppsspp footage... i set to work trying to layer the tracks.... but since the audio didn’t match the visuals’ timing, I had to manually cut pieces of my screencap video up so that it matched the audio timing, while also making sure that the visuals looked like they were still continuous (damn  circle icon which wouldn’t go away and caused problems)... on top of which, i had to deal with removing a number of random black screens that would just flash on screen for less than a second when i ran reimeiroku through the ppsspp emulator.... then i also had to find the song that plays towards the ending of this cuz the audio i had cut before the end of my screencap vid which was also a pain because i couldn’t find the damn thing anywhere on youtube so i had to go find the game rip audio (thankfully i have a site for that. also in the game, that song doesn’t naturally fade out and i manually added in that effect cuz i felt like it and thought it was better than the audio just cutting off) so i could put that in and align it so that track matched the audio timing for the vita audio track.... and then i also had to do something about the interval where i had to increase and decrease volume since the end kept sounding off no matter what i did....tho i kinda think the video still sounds off in 2 places.

once i got all the damn visuals and text properly lined up, i gave up on having to deal with the the stupid circle icon in that was originally in the bottom right hand corner since i got pissed enough seeing it and cuz it was no longer continuously in motion so I decided to remove it entirely along with the auto-play icon (at this point im on about version 10 of the video).

then, to cover up the right side of the video, i figured that’d i’d just stuck up an image over top of that section.... but after several tries i gave up on that since every damn picture i imported regardless if that was a screenshot of the game or a screen capture of the video from the editing software itself, nothing would match the colour of the text box for some infuriating reason... which ultimately led to me redoing everything so i didn’t have the stupid text box then stringing together clips between those stupid bouncing icons to erase the damn thing entirely though i thankfully didn’t worry about the auto-play icon the second time around....

however, doing that in itself posed a whole new problem since what i could effectively clip was less than >0.5 seconds each time to create cropped video layers that would hide that stupid icon, and my comp reaaaaaallllly started to issues when i did more of this and when i copied and pasted too many of those millisecond clips together... it got to the point where i was waiting 15 minutes for about 4 seconds of copied hide-the-damn-icon-video-clips (or about 8 hours for 40 seconds worth)... which pretty much crippled my computer..... 

this resulted in me having insane amounts of segments that looked entirely like this^, which occurred whenever there was an icon to hide... or text shake for some reason.... which caused me to create +20 openshot files for editing...(btw this is 138 tiny clips over the span of 6 seconds)

in the end, over the course of a fucking month, which i can honestly say that me finishing this for today was a complete coincidence (i barely managed to finish Warframe’s Scarlet Spear event cuz of how bad this was lol), i lost count of many versions of this video I made sometime after I reached version #32, openshot crashed on me at least 15 times (gave up counting that too), and my laptop crashed twice.... 

after i finally finished my video, i thankfully didn’t spend that long on subtitles but it took me far longer than i’d have liked to get the damn positioning right since potplayer is annoying when it comes to single lines and i had to guess and check the positioning almost every other time for some strange reason whenever i had a single line... which was never a problem when i had 2 or 3 lines of text... but editing was a slight hassle cuz i wanted the text used to be as accurate as possible... and i checked 3 reimeiroku tls of this chapter and the JP mtl of a bunch of sentences just to be sure. 

anyway, thanks to doing all of this unnecessary torture, i am absolutely never going to ever be repeating this experience ever again even if someone pays me because video editing is a serous pain in the ass and I hate it more than photoshop (also why the hell does ppsspp have so many issues with reimeiroku when compared to yuugiroku 2)!!!

also, learned my lesson and didn’t write this post this after staying awake til an ungodly hour lol. my attention to basic grammar plummets like a rock if i stay up past 4 am.... so i decided to write out all my grievances beforehand.... and put my video for this at the very bottom cuz im terrible like that and want everyone who sees this to deal with a massive wall of text xD! suffer! suffer as i have dammit lol!

enjoy the fruits of my damn labour! i’ve passed the point of caring if there are errors in this so keep anything you notice to yourself!! goddammit i noticed something wrong that i couldn’t ignore... namely the chapter name and my credit.... fixed that now.

on a final note, it’ll probably be more than a year before I touch Reimeiroku again because of my commitment to what I am able to translate for SSL so don’t ask lol.... 

#hakuoki #hakuouki #Saito Hajime #Hakuoki Game Translation #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki reimeiroku #hakuouki reimeiroku #video post

[jivingcryingboy]

Being In A Band

There's a always that situation for a musician when someone, like your girlfriend's mum, uncle, another parent asks you, "What do you do?" And you answer "I play in a band." Now, I've seen this first hand and it can go a few ways. One way is that the girlfriend's mum, or whoever it is, gets very interested and their eyes light up because it's an interesting journey and so on. The second way, which is common, is for the person to suddenly pause as if you've just told them their daughter is pregnant, kicked their dog and pissed all over their toilet seat. "Oh...that's nice", meaning that their girl's partner is someone who is broke and goalless and cannot provide for their daughter.

Now I'm not having a go at people who react like this. Usually these reactions are from people who don't play music and are casual music listeners at best. And ultimately, these people are only going to understand when you point towards the radio and go, "That's my band" or "Here's the paycheck". And yes, ultimately, even for the musician there does have to be some kind of success in terms of making music especially before huge responsibilities like a raising family come your way. And I don't mean success as in playing at Wembley or lots of fame, I mean earning money out of music so you can keep making music and doing what you love best.

And if that's not possible, you get a job on the side to fund the music you love doing. Making a living out of 'popular originals music', is hard. Extremely hard.

If you want to become a lawyer or an engineer or a doctor, there is some kind of path to get there. A very hard one, don't get me wrong, but there is a some kind of visible path to get there. You can't just stroll in to a ward and do an operation. You have to revise, take exams, get experience working in a hospital environment before you become a doctor. Making a living out of original music, there is no straight path. It's pinball. Some people take years to get there, some people are overnight successes, some people are rejected over one hundred times before they get a break, some people get lucky first time, some people never get lucky. There are no exams, no scale of how good or bad you are, no league tables, no nothing.

And that's the other side to all of this; everything is subjective. Good and bad have no significance. In sport, there are ways of tracking how good a sportsman is. Granted, there are subjective and aesthetic issues, but there are statistics to help you along the way. In music, we fall into that 'Art' category. That fucking word. For example, a single turd could be sitting in a white room at the Tate Modern and it could be considered the greatest statement of the 21st century through many eyes. Through other eyes however, it's just a turd in a white room. How is this special turd making such a statement? But I guess that's the beauty of it all. You could be watching a band, enamoured by their music whilst standing next to someone who can't wait until that band finishes. If you are a musician, an artist, a novelist, screenplay writer etc. you are in a game where there are no rules. For the people who get there, I reckon some of them don't even know how they got there.

'Art' is funny thing. It's as meaningless as it is essential. Whether you create some form of art or not is insignificant. We are all indulged in TV series, video games, films, novels, songs, paintings, theatre shows, whatever it may be. Most of them fictional. It is a natural human desire to wear a mask and pretend to be someone else whether you are performing or spectating. For me, if there is ever a specific definition that sums up 'art', it is the desire to be and to feel something more than ourselves. To express ourselves outside our human boundaries. Yep, I just did it. Pretentious art talk. Fuck it. I'm that pretentious guy at the party who says he writes songs. So even those people who don't fully understand someone's pursuit in this particular area, even they are indulged in some art form through whatever medium.

I keep banging on about there not being a 'good or bad' in music. I'll try and explain. Our debut EP was released not so long ago and I always try and get it reviewed. I emailed one particular website where I got a reply of which I'd never seen before. The guy emailed back and basically told me that he, the reviewer, does not pick what he reviews, 'tippers' do. Tippers are people who tell reviewers and blogs what to write about. It's a bit like keeping up with the latest fashion trends; if more people search for 'so-and-so band' on google, they'll review them, and people are more likely to click on the reviewer's page. Another website I found stated that you had to pay for the review. And if you put out that little bit extra, you get to be on the 'Upcoming Artist' Section.

Even though it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not. It's just the way it is. I think there was a time before social media where this concept was less blurry. Before the internet, it was more about the music. I won't bullshit too much, image still played a massive part, but when the internet came along it introduced so many more factors that artists had to deal with. In social media, not only is it about music, it's about marketing, branding, audience, image, current events, being quirky and so much more. Quirkiness is everything. You can't just play your song and expect anything anymore. You have to play a song, live streamed with piano-playing cats, five people playing one guitar, juggling at the same time, looking gorgeous, crazy clothes, no gravity rooms, bla bla bla. The music becomes a passenger. This is why we have music videos. Audio is no longer enough. That's why we did our music video down Bold Street. Don't get me wrong, it did fit the song, but just releasing the track by itself won't get you anywhere. If you scroll down the Facebook feed right now, literally right now, (come back though) count how many videos there are. There's a tonne of them! So many! Why? Because it grabs your attention. Cats, racist people, accidents, Donald Trump. You have to punch someone in the face to get their attention. I think it's not about being good or bad, it's about being quirky, loud and different, even if it's shite, it doesn't matter

I know you can get magazines and blogs who rate albums out of five/ten stars but that's complete bullshit as well. Critic's Choice, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes spoon feeding you your opinion before you've even made it. There used to be so much analysis about Kurt Cobain's lyrics, a ridiculous amount of people weighing in about what they thought Kurt meant, when Kurt actually for the most part did not really give much of shit about the words he was writing at all. I'm not gonna get started on the whole concept of criticism but there's a lot of vagueness going on there as well. In my opinion.

One thing I do know for sure is that you need money and to be fair, that could be said about everything in life. Uni fees are sky high, so many educational paths are laminated in debt. Maybe this is a naive point. Earning money though from your own songs is sticky.

https://www.theguardian.com/…/how-much-musicians-make-spoti…

The Guardian did a post not so long ago regarding stream revenue for artists. I think it was round the time after Taylor Swift kicked off and left Spotify. What this says ^ is that if, like us, you are an unsigned artist, in order to earn minimum wage in America ($1,260 per month) your songs must be played 180,000 times per month. That's for Spotify. That's $0.001 per click. 2% of all Spotify artists actually achieve minimum wage out of their music. There's torrenting, youtube mp3 converter files, the way to make money out of music bands on our level is touring. And that's another drama.

So why do it? Why be broke, play songs that maybe no one cares about and set yourself up for failure? I don't think there is a definitive answer to this as everyone has a different take on it. In my case, and I can only speak for myself, I guess it's meaning. A phenomenal piece of the makeup that constitutes to be living. Talking as someone who tries to write songs, creating something is such a beautiful thing. To give birth to little worlds, stories, characters that exist in my own creative realm is for me personally, the one thing I am most thankful for. Even if the next tune I write is the worst thing you've ever heard, even if you listen to the song and think, "please, never sing again", the feeling of creating something, making a story is priceless, indecipherable even. I also think what everyone forgets is that for the people who are pursuing 'originals' music as a career, we are in such a fortunate position; a position in life where we have the opportunity and capabilities to actually pursue music. We're not struggling to feed our families, we're not fleeing our countries because of famine and war, we are in a place where we can choose an artistic way of life, even if it doesn't pay well. For many people, the idea of even trying to make music is so far way from their reality as the restraints of their lives do not allow them a single chance to prove themselves at it. You get this one life, yolo, do what makes you happy. If you want to be a musician, work tirelessly to be one. Those people who look down on you, laugh at you are people probably not happy with how their lives have gone. Just do it. If we can continue to make and play music then job done. Even if it goes nowhere, I can be proud of what we have done, proud to say I was part of a music video down Bold Street, proud to say we released music knowing I felt emotions that would not have been possible for me to feel anywhere else. Through the difficult times we have had, music never lets you down. If anyone ever locks into our songs and tunes in to what we are doing, gets the same feelings as we got when we listened to our favourite bands for the first time, that is biggest cherry on top you can ever ask for.

#music #band #artist #unsigned #spotify #itunes #streaming #newartist #newmusic #blog #article #tunes #opinion #analysis #thoughts #post #long post