#stop fearmongering about this one feature

[snugglyeldritchjellyfish]

tumblr users: remember to check before you reblog! if it incites an immediate emotional reaction, it might not be accurate! misinformation is an issue!

also tumblr users: discord is evil and violating your privacy with this New Feature RIGHT NOW and its SOOOO bad you guys

[nights-at-crystarium]

As a twitter/tumblr user since 2010-2011, I believe I have sufficient grounds to say that currently we as a community are living through the scariest, shittiest time yet. This post isn’t trying to fearmonger, no I’m not leaving tumblr until it literally keels over, but I suggest that we don’t put all our eggs in one basket.

If twitter/tumblr stay usable, great! In the worse scenario, you’d have kept posting on a new platform and stayed ahead of the curve.

This post shares my personal experience with three potential “new”* fandom places, and is aimed to help fellow content creators. I’m an artist fully depending on internet to survive, my reasoning may not apply to you if you’re a hobbyist. Do your own research, it’s always healthy. * Pillowfort and mastodon have been around for 5+ years, bluesky is ~2 years old.

Discovering new people to follow kinda sucks on all three platforms, twitter and tumblr are eons ahead, but, given the recent chaos and uncertainty, I’m willing to be patient, keep posting on those, and feel safer than I would’ve otherwise been. More baskets good, one basket bad.

All three have poor visual customization, don’t expect custom tumblr themes.

This list starts with the least popular, but most human and easy to join, and what I personally trust the most. All three allow nsfw if labeled properly.

✦ Pillowfort is a barebones tumblr. Intuitive, cozy, but currently very, very small. Be patient with its clunkiness or lack of some features, it’s made by an AO3-like team. I’d personally love if the fandom crowd managed to redirect its attention to it instead of the sus bluesky.

Joining: is free, invite-only, but the waitlist is nearly instant.

Lurk around on their official tumblr: @/pillowfort-social

✦ Mastodon, for me personally, is impossible to explain directly. I’ll use several comparisons.

- Discord but all servers can interact. You’re still on a server curated by some human(s) that might tell you what you can and can’t post, BUT, if you don’t like that server’s policy, you can move to a new one while keeping your followers. - Email, users A and B may be registered on different domains, still they can talk. It’s a weird comparison, but fediverse (please I’m not explaining THAT but it’s a good thing) in general looks like another email story: unlike big sites that come and go, it might stand the test of time. - Someone compared mastodon’s structure to xiv’s dc and servers, if you look at its domain names that way, it might be easier to understand.

Depending on user, mastodon may feel gatekeepy/snowflakey. I haven’t spent enough time on there to form a proper opinion yet, but a warning’s due.

An actually good and hopeful thing about mastodon AND tumblr: the two might start interacting in future. Ever lamented that your fav asian artists don’t use tumblr? If they use misskey, or any other place on the fediverse, it might be possible to follow them directly from tumblr in future, and vice versa.

Joining: is free, however some servers close for new members sometimes, and have human moderators reviewing your request.

✦ Bluesky is a twitter without Musk: today’s average internet user reads this, drops everything and already looks to register there. It’s still sus, but people flock to it like crazy. Most likely to become the next big fandom place in my eyes, even if I’m not happy about that.

I personally have no good feelings about bluesky. Same as twitter, which I hated even before the 2018 tumblr exodus, yet the crowd decided to make it The New Fandom Place, and, grudgingly, I had to give up and also join them in 2022. During the year I haven’t stopped despising twitter, yet, I can’t deny that it helped me survive. I estimate half of my patrons, and, hell, even tumblr audience, comes from twitter. So, if bluesky ends up being the next hot shit, I’ll have to keep up because internet pays for my living.

Joining: is free but hell, invite-only, the waitlist is a lie, your best chance to join is a direct invite.

This’s all I’ve got to say for now. If you have a correction or an addition, replies/reblogs are welcome!

Screenshots of the current interfaces under the cut, you may spy on my profiles o/

Pillowfort

Mastodon.art

Bluesky

[ms-demeanor]

Not to be rude or derailing your answer to the ask about the scorched earth post, but I do think quite genuinely that the site is becoming more openly hostile to its userbase, or at the very least its disabled userbase. While I’m not a fan of mobbing people’s personal blogs in targeted harassment campaigns, I think some people are also ignoring that staff blatantly said in a recent post that epileptic users would need to pay for ad-free to have their safety assured

I kind of don’t think that’s being ethical or user friendly, to me that sounds like they’re refusing to meet basic accessibility requests and answering with ‘pay us money to be safe’. Strobing and flashing ads aren’t just eyestraining, they can legitimately lead to serious injuries for epileptic folk, and telling people with epilepsy to just pay up or get lost is kinda… I dunno… disgusting?

So it looks like in a livestream (not on a post so far as I've been able to see) either photomatt or zingring made a glib and inappropriate response to an epileptic user asking about flashing ads and suggested that maybe they needed to pay for ad-free.

That's bad, I don't like it, and if it was supposed to be a joke it was a shitty one.

Zingring, tumblr's COO addressed that comment in a post where she said:

Buying ad-free (or gifting ad-free to someone else) is always an option, but that is not the solution (and of course, some folks simply can’t afford it). Sorry that it sounded dismissive in the session! That was not my intent.

I still think that's inappropriate (it's not that ad free isn't *the* solution, ad free shouldn't be *a* solution to accessibility), but it looks like Zingring has addressed this issue multiple times.

She got tagged in this post listing ways that tumblr could improve accessibility for photosensitive users and seems to have pretty consistently followed up; she has explained that there are rules against flashing ads that are sometimes violated by the advertisers and asks people to please report ads that break those rules so those advertisers can be blocked, has noted that there is apparently a "stop all autoplay" option in the works behind the scenes. She does also seem to take it seriously when users reach out with complaints about accessibility issues and seems to be willing to explore options.

Looking through that blog, this does not seem to be a site that is hostile to users with accessibility issues so much as, like everything else that's wrong around here, it is ridiculously understaffed so every project that someone wants to have as a priority is a project that someone else needs put on the backburner.

However, to very gently push back: how much of what you're experiencing as hostility from tumblr is actual hostility and how much of it is seeing posts like this, which suggests that tumblr is removing accessibility features because the lightbox didn't have double-tap-to-zoom on mobile for some users for a short while, claims that the blocking/flagging issue is a false flag against trans women, shared the inaccurate fearmongering post about tumblr live's ToS, and also claimed that tumblr "allowed" flashing ads that violated the in-place rules that tumblr has for advertising?

(this kind of goes with the 'nobody understands the ToS' but also nobody understands ads; tumblr does not have enough staff to look over the ads that go on their site every day, no social media company does, they rely on advertiser agreements as a sort of enhanced honor system and reports from users if the advertisers don't hold up their end of the bargain; the only way around this for any site that uses ads is to not have ads and that post is explicitly saying don't pay for tumblr because they are doing ads wrong - either they have to run ads and some bad ones are going to slip through and users will have to report them or tumblr will have to be 100% paid by the users or tumblr will go away. If you see ads that are unsafe for photosensitive users on *any* website you should report them to the site because the site almost certainly doesn't know that there's an advertiser violating the ad ToS unless someone tells them)

Generally speaking, I am actually *not* seeing worsening accessibility features, I'm seeing improvements compared to where we were five years ago - alt text on images is now built-in and devs are working hard on making tumblr more compatible with screen readers (as noted in the changes blog regularly); tumblr itself started offering different dashboard themes for users after years of complaints about contrast levels and readability; the "tiktok/twitterified" desktop dash view that everyone hates is supposed to be more readable on wider screens.

Compare this post in October of 2022 when Changes celebrated adding animations for posting (and told users those could only be disabled at an OS or browser level) with this post from July 2023 when they rolled back a feature because of an unexpected use case that could cause problems for photosensitive users.

These aren't things that I'd expect to see from a company that didn't care about accessibility, or that was openly hostile to questions around making the site more accessible.

I don't disagree with you that the comment from the stream about buying ad free was inappropriate; it absolutely was and it must have made photosensitive users feel like shit. But in the three months since that comment tumblr has been very responsive about getting flashing ads removed as soon as possible and seems to be working on more permanent fixes. I think this may be an instance of able-bodied people not realizing how shitty and dehumanizing their joke was (and it was) and taking the steps to do better.

If you don't think they're doing better, I probably can't convince you. I certainly don't think that tumblr is perfect about accessibility and I think that users need to continue pushing for improved user control of how the site displays and interacts with various devices. But compared to the kind of responses users complaints got from staff in 2018? I feel like things have improved a lot.

[genderkoolaid]

advice on how to get over the fear that t is going to make me ugly? or that i’m going to miss “the old me”

i’m a queer trans guy and i’ve been questioning going on t for years now and i know i definitely want bottom growth, body fat redistribution and more body hair.

but im err on the side of face and voice changes. i’m scared of disliking my new voice and suddenly growing dysphoric over it (i dont have too much voice dysphoria now) and disliking how my new face will look. i’m kinda genderfluid as well so it’s complicated. but i don’t want to go my whole life without knowing what it’s like to be on hrt. but i can’t get over the fear of looking/finding myself ugly and undesirable and losing my community... which is ironic cuz i find other trans men attractive as hell. i discussed this in therapy and i still feel this way :/

i wish there was a way for me to start without telling anyone and then breaking the news when i’m experiencing changes and feeling more confident about it. i have my gender dysphoria diagnosis and i can start if i want to, but i need my family’s financial support. i don’t want to make it a big deal since it’s just something i’d be trying out to feel more like myself in certain ways.

sorry this turned into a long ass rant and you don’t have to reply but i’m just gonna kindly leave it in the ask box 💀

There's a post that goes like "all of life is irreversible. i cannot go back a single second" and I think thats something good to keep in mind when you are thinking through this. You are already living with a body that has changed and will continue to change in ways largely out of your control. You are already living in a post-irreversible-alteration body.

If you do go on T and find you don't like how your voice sounds: for one, you can stop at any time (& if you haven't checked out microdosing as an option, you should). But two: plenty of people live with a deeper voice than they want. Plenty of people live with facial hair they dislike. You can pursue the same therapies and procedures they do. Or maybe you don't, and you find ways to live with a voice or face you aren't totally in love with.

So much detransition fearmongering, especially directed at transmascs & assoc. trans people, heavily relies on the specter of the fallen woman, itself steeped in trans-misogyny & intersexism. The idea that, for one, a "woman" who has mixed-sex features is ugly and undesirable, and two, that a "woman" made undesirable is forever doomed to be miserable and worthless. The transphobic story of detransition keeps our bodies stuck in this moment of revulsion and regret, narratively preventing us as characters from being able to move on and live happy lives in atypical bodies. Even if you do regret/dislike some things about T, you are not forever stuck in that feeling. The story does not stop at that! You will just keep living and find new ways of dealing with your bodily feelings!

The social aspect of this is a bit more complicated but I also have some firsthand experience with it. Because, as mentioned before, there's a lot of transphobic misogyny/misogynistic transphobia that affects transmascs & others who go on T, who have to confront the feeling of losing your potential desirability. And then there's also the way many people are treated after going on T, facing a whole new area of bodily scrutiny: you may suddenly have people making comments about how someone needs to force teenage boys to shave because their facial hair is a personal offense. I went from being self-conscious about how high my voice was to being self-conscious about how undeniably trans my voice was. And, specifically, my facial hair, voice changes, etc. were all signs of my transmasculine desire, and I became self-conscious about how obvious it was that I desired being trans, I desired this body. I could no longer let everyone pretend I was a cishet girl at family gatherings and avoid confronting these issues, because I had essentially written I WANT TO BE A TRANNY all over my physical form.

This is something I'm still struggling with myself. I, like many other queer & autistic people, already struggled with feeling desirable or worthy of being seen alongside conventionally attractive cishet people who could act normal. Being visibly trans, and taking a huge step away from the desirable cis-perisex-girl body, can really open up that can of worms. Especially being genderfluid/genderqueer! Because we often cannot find a comfortable space for ourselves within the conventions of attractiveness for cis men, like some binary trans men are able to.

But ultimately, I don't regret going on T at all. I would have had body issues regardless, and I got a lot out of going on T. I think mentally preparing yourself to struggle with these things, and seeking out other transmasc people, is a big help. Again: all of life is irreversible. we cannot go back a single second. We are already living in imperfect bodies we struggle to love or see as worthy. If you know you want some of the things T can offer, and you don't want to go your whole life without knowing, then just do it. Dive in, and don't feel any shame if you decide to get out. Just keep living and finding ways to live better right now.

[snickerdoodlles]

Re AO3- Politely inquiring as to why you aren't worried, oh Cinnamon One? Thanks! Xoxo

1 part "that's not how it works" and 2 parts "LLM-generated writing has nothing to do with fanfic writers"

some quick context for anyone who's confused-- generative-AI is trained on large datasets, and a lot of training datasets for these LLMs* include data scraped from AO3. i know that the generative-AI Sudowrites has been specifically referenced in socmed posts encouraging AO3 authors to lock their fics, but i believe the AO3 announcement on AI & data-scraping was prompted by current events and debates on the presence of generative-AI in day-to-day society vs any specific situation/event/etc

*LLM stands for 'large language model' which is the type of AI we're talking about here

my first note here is that if locking fics makes you feel more comfortable posting fanfic, do it. it's a fantastic security feature and no one needs a reason to lock their fics beyond "i want to." if you're doing it specifically to stop data scraping for AI, beware it doesn't actually stop that from occurring, it just acts as a deterent (AO3 has said they've done some backend work to prevent data scraping from occurring again in the future, but there's no way they'll ever be able to stop it completely)

but there's also been a lot of...well. i'm not sure misinformation is quite the right phrase here, but a lot of misunderstanding on how LLMs work that's resulted in a lot of outraged or indignant posts on LLM-generated writing in conjunction with AO3, and that's resulted in some fearmongering in regards to the issue that doesn't help anyone :( so, why i'm personally not worried about this issue;

1 part "that's not how it works"

first things first: i don't think people appreciate the sheer scale of LLMs. to refer back to a name that's been mentioned several times in these posts, Sudowrites is a generative AI based on GPT-3, which is a LLM based on 175+ billion parameters. GPT-3 requires 800GB just to store it. GPT-4 is based on 500 billion parameters. these are two of the big LLMs, but even the small LLMs are working off of 3-7 billion parameters. LLMs are fucking huge.

i think it might surprise some people to realize just how long AI has been around. the first recognized AI was made in 1943. neural networks (the "brains" of AI) were first developed in the 1980s. people have been working on generative-AI specifically for almost 20 years now. but it took 3 big factors before generative-AI was even possible:

1- neural networks that could do unsupervised learning,

2- hardware that could handle the computing requirements and neural networks needs,

and 3- the development of the internet into what it's been for the past 10 years, and the sheer scale of information now stored within it

so here's my point: LLMs weren't "trained on data from AO3"--AO3 is a database who's stored material was pulled alongside data from online journals, literary magazines, library databases, newspapers, video transcripts, blogs, Wikipedia and so much more than i can ever list to make these training datasets. individual AO3 writers are drops in a pool and AO3 is a bucket in an ocean of information. AO3 as an own individual entity has negligible impact on how LLMs were trained or what they do, nevermind individual stories.

honestly, this alone should be a huge relief for some people--i saw posts going around where people were appalled at the idea of their fanfic being used to train a generative-AI that could hurt professional writers. so great news! your fics have no meaningful impact on any of this in any way that conceivably matters! you can post your fics for anyone to see and read and even download with absolutely zero guilt for how generative-AI is affecting jobs.

2 parts "LLM-generated writing has nothing to do with fanfic writers"

if you want to learn how LLMs work, do it outside of tumblr, it's too complex to explain here (this dive into how ChatGPT works is a good starting point for anyone interested, personally i learned a lot looking up lectures on 'deep learning'). but for a simplified overview of it for anyone who doesn't care, LLMs are just figuring out what word comes next in a sequence. basically, you give a LLM a prompt. from that prompt, it determines what your topic is, then it spits out the first token (tokens are the 'language' of LLMs, in this case it's spitting out a word or short phrase). then the LLM spits out the second token based on the first token. then spits out the third token based on the first token, second token, and combination of the tokens. and so forth, until it's reached the end of the prompt.

LLMs are just writing sentences word-by-word. i remember doing something very similar when i first started analyzing what i loved about my favorite writers--i had a notebook where i wrote out sentences that i especially loved, usually looking at description or a funny piece of dialogue, with the goal of figuring out how to write like them. this lasted for maybe a month before i moved on to analyzing story structure, narrative pacing, etc because sentences are just lines of words. anyone can put words into a nice sounding sentence. they can even put several words into nice sounding sentences that sound nice when read together. but writing, and everything about it that makes it special, is so more than writing nice sounding sentences. giving an a concept a narrative, or creating distinctive characters with their own voices, or building a setting/world, or connecting ideas to themes--generative-AI can't do any of that. it's just determining which token comes next after the previously generated ones. it can do that with a lot of variety--baby writer me was working off a bookshelf, LLMs are working off things like the entire internet--but that's still all it can do: write nice sounding sentences.

there's another aspect to generative-AI at play here too--in every example you've seen of LLM-generated writing, did you notice that they're all limited to less than 500 words? prompts shown in newscast articles/segments are usually 300-500 words, Sudowrites only offers written passages of up to 300 words, and even ChatGPT recommends keeping responses limited to under ~800 tokens (even tho it offers responses of up to...4000 tokens i think?)

this is because each generated token comes with an error value. i don't want to bog down this already long response with how that exactly works, but let's say the first token comes with an error value of 0.0002 (*im picking random numbers for this). that error value carries over to the second token (which can have its own error value of let's say 0.0007). then that combined error value carries over to the third generated token, which also has its own separate error value, and so forth. and while each individual error value is negligible, they add up with each additional token and eventually the overall gained error is too high and the LLM cannot properly/accurately produce the next token (this is called error propagation, and it's non-linear in the case of LLMs)

i will stop torturing people with math nd statistics concepts, but the long and short of this means that after a certain number of words are generated, the LLM's response starts breaking down. maybe at first it starts sounding a little stale or the wording gets awkward, but if it keeps going, the LLM starts spitting out gibberish, and you have to end the prompt and start a new one. this is why those generative-AI writing examples have a word limit to them, the LLMs can't write more than that small section of writing on their own.

so, add up all of that, LLMs already aren't going to replace story writers any time soon. they just can't do it. furthermore, the response you get from an LLM is only as good as the prompt you give it and it's working off such a huge dataset, that responses are going to be really broad. if you want a more tailored response, you have to feed it extra context alongside the prompt. and in the case of fanfic specifically, fic is entirely based on previously known context. it's written with a very specific context in mind, it expects readers to enter with at least some level of knowledge on that specific context, and works within that level of context even in the cases of AUs. fic writers play in someone else's sandbox, which is not something that LLMs are naturally capable of doing

but frankly, even if they did, they still have zero relevance to fic writers

the people currently affected by LLM-generated writing are journalists, who jobs have been under fire for years. the editors in published magazines getting slammed with LLM-generated writing because it was sold as a shortcut. writers rooms for shows, which act as an important stepping stone but execs have been trying to reduce and cut out for years. and even more that i'm not listing.

these are people's livelihoods that are being impacted by generative-AI. situations where managers and executives don't care about the fact that LLMs can't write like people do because they only see a money-saver instead of art.

like, 100%--if locking your fics feels more reassuring to you personally, absolutely lock them. that's the point of the feature. but the attitude of acting like AO3 has any relevance how LLMs are trained or that generative-AI has any meaningful impact on fic writers is just such a self-centered view of the actual issue at hand. and, if you will excuse me getting a little snarky here, anyone up in arms over AO3 being one of the many databases getting scraped is about 20 years too late to worrying about internet privacy.

[spacelazarwolf]

I wanted to ask for some advice as a transman in his 20's, I've been told it's pointless to do hrt past 27 and I'm very poor & won't be able to afford it any time soon but it's getting harder to deal with as more years pass, is there anything I can do to handle it better that's helped you before?

whoever told you that was either misinformed or trying to discourage you from transitioning. transition later in life may look different than it does earlier in life, but it’s far from “pointless.” there are trans people in their 50’s-80’s who medically transition so it is definitely possible and effective with the right medical oversight, so if it’s something you want to do, don’t let people fearmonger and hold you back from it.

in terms of cost, i pay about $15-20ish per month for my testosterone but depending on the dose it may be more or less. there’s also coupons, and in some areas it may be covered by insurance. top surgery and bottom surgery are obviously going to be more expensive, but just in terms of hrt there are affordable ways to do it.

for clothes, i highly recommend thrift shops. what i did was take all the clothes i no longer felt comfortable wearing to a consignment store, sold what i could, posted the rest in a local queer facebook group and told people to come look through it and donate like $5 per bag they filled with clothes. then i took that money to thrift stores, because each piece was only a few dollars so if it ended up not working out i wasn’t out a ton of money and i could either resell or donate it. using that method, i ended up not spending very much money on new clothes post social transition. i also kept a few pieces that i was able to style in a masc way (it helped that before i came out i was presenting a bit more masc).

another piece of advice i will never ever stop giving is to meet as many other trans people in person in your area as you can. being trans is much less stressful and painful when you’re not doing it alone.

also if social dysphoria is a big thing for you, may i suggest: ✨gaslighting people✨. i joke but many times if someone misgenders you and you just laugh and act like they’re the one who just committed the social faux pas and you, a cis man, are oh so generously giving them an opportunity to apologize, people will be too mortified to press the issue bc misgendering cis ppl is generally seen as rude. this isn’t always the case, but i’ve found that even when i blatantly wasn’t passing, if i just acted SUPER confident, like i was 100% just a cis guy with a high voice and feminine features, cis men in particular were more likely to apologize and gender me correctly. ymmv but gaslight gatekeep guyboss is always fun to try at least once.

[lala-blahblah]

HMM uglies movie thoughts again. I like Laverne cox and I think she slayed as Doctor Cable, and I don't want to say this was a bad casting decision. But I will say that being familiar with her as a person , knowing she is a trans woman, and seeing her playing a character whose storyline is trying to force kids to get a surgery feels like it plays into right wing trans fearmongering in a kind of icky way? And I don't think this was intentional at all! I don't know if I'd even go so far as to say that this was a bad casting choice because in some ways it's empowering to see a trans women held up as an ideal beauty standard. But it's something I ended up thinking about the whole movie and I feel like it undermined the narrative it was trying to share.

On a more positive note, the uglies universe is a really interesting one to look at when it comes to trans folks though because they for sure would be allowed and accepted, and I don't think anybody would think twice about it. Its a future where everyone is expected to go through a major surgery anyway, like the pretty committee wouldn't care if you wanted more feminine features or masculine features or whatever, as long as you let them mess with your brain and turn you obedient they're happy! Which is kind of ideal for trans folks (minus brain washing of coursee). And the surgery isn't even fully a bad thing in the series. The Uglies universe is interesting because at first it really emphasizes how messed up beauty standards are and has commentary on intense plastic surgery just to like yourself. But (spoilers!) Tally never undoes the surgery afterwards. Like it happened but the focus is regaining her mind and her clarity, she never returns to her old face (and in a way she can't go back because she's changed too much on the inside anyway). So it's not like "in order to be your true self you must remain looking like you were" it's like "your true self is your thoughts and your appearance shouldn't define you" which to me still allows for room for that trans interpretation

Even after they "win" and stop the forced surgeries, in the following "extras" book that's set around a different character, people continue to get surgeries all the time, it's just more customizable and up to them. So body modifications are very normalized. I think there's nuance to it of course and there is still that underlying body horror element of all these crazy surgeries, but I do think it's neat to see a dystopian future that doesn't exclude queer expression. I think it would be interesting to follow a trans character in this universe... maybe not written by scott westerfeld but like, if a trans person has their oc and wants to write a little fanfic. I would read it.

[kellshaw]

The robot uprising and the end of the publishing world!

New Post has been published on https://kellshaw.com/the-robot-uprising-and-the-end-of-the-publishing/

The robot uprising and the end of the publishing world!

New Post has been published on https://kellshaw.com/the-robot-uprising-and-the-end-of-the-publishing-world/

The robot uprising and the end of the publishing world!

I can’t remember the exact title, but there’s an episode of Doctor Who where Tom Baker’s Doctor, and Romana are discussing life on Gallifrey, their home planet. The Doctor likes painting, but Romana thinks that’s archaic, as in her mind, computers do art. And while that was science fiction in the 1970s, today we’ve got AI tools that do art, and writing!

Every author business podcast I’ve listened to recently, and a lot of book-ish social media groups, are furiously discussing the impact of modern AI tools on publishing. There’s a mix of speculation, gossip and fearmongering.

Publishers with low-effort, AI-churned out bookswill swamp the market place! No one will touch self-published books again!

Readers won’t love us writers anymore as they can walk up to a computer, enter some prompts, and receive a perfectly tailored story to their tastes and preferences.

Canny publishers will use AI to increase their output and draw readers’ attention away from my stuff!

There are arguments on both sides. A lot of this appears to be FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) – the fear that the AI assisted texts will make certain writers more productive and take the readers away from discovering other writers! I don’t think it quite works like that. Sure, I’d love it if my favorite authors were more productive, but I’ve also stopped reading a series where the latest volume loses that spark and feels ‘churned out’. And even if everyone flocks to mass-produced texts, there will still be people who prefer hand-crafted stories. Maybe it will become like craft beer—there’ll be always an audience for those who want the more interesting beverages on the side.

What makes a good story? Intriguing characters, pacing, the ability to evoke emotion, perhaps. How do you bottle this and create a reliable, reproducible formula for making engaging stories consistently? People have been to figure this out for years. There’s so many courses out there that tell writers about how to write unputdownable stories, or what the best formulas. I’ve found some stuff useful (structuring and pacing techniques) and others less so.

There’s also been heartwarming stories of people with disabilities who can now express themselves better using AI technology. People with language issues or Long COVID brain fog can now complete stories with AI assistance. This is how I’d like it to be used. I’ve got some issues myself, which makes it hard for me to engage in social media. I have trouble writing random social media posts about blah life stuff without wanting to sit and think deeply about out it for ages, but if I bothered, I could go to the ChatGPT and have it write my social updates for me!

I haven’t mucked around with AI yet. Actually, I tell a lie—I use souped-up grammar checker Pro-Writing Aid to clear up my text. I’m a messy first drafter with lots of dropped words, speling errors that are fixed down the pipeline. I use some of its suggestions, but not all. Lately it’s got this AI feature that rephrases sentences. Some of it sounds better, some of it’s bland. Mostly I ignore it. But the tool is there as an option. Anyway, more options are good.

At this stage, I’m not going to engage AI (apart from PWA’s grammar/reporting checks). I’m still working on my craft, trying to capture that magic of making a great story, or at least, improve of what I’ve done in the past. For example, when I wrote Final Night, it was the best thing I’d written and completed, and now I’m going to improve on that with the next book. When I think I’ve gotten my craft to a certain level, I might check out AI tools more deeply, but for now it’s fingers to keyboard.

[brotheralyosha]

One year after the biggest protest movement in American history demanded police reform, we now find ourselves in the ludicrous position of being told by all of the shallowest professional political savants that defunding the police is a toxic position that is poison to Democrats. From Axios to Thomas Friedman, almost the entire centrist pundit class has coalesced around the analysis that because crime rates rose during the pandemic year, defunding the police is a bad idea, electorally speaking. Do they attempt to engage with the fact that crime rates rose in cities across the nation that have not actually defunded the police? No. Do they attempt to engage with the question of whether cities’ enormous spending on police relative to other civic priorities is justified by the results? No. Those are policy choices with profound consequences on human lives, and would probably require a lot of research, and are therefore not something that Tom Friedman or Axios would ever bother with. The pundit all-stars are interested only in the question of whether the misleading, kindergarten-level connection between the mere words ​“defund the police” and the fearmongering crime propaganda being featured constantly on Fox News will translate into a political liability for Democrats. By focusing exclusively on this frame, they facilitate it becoming a reality.

The general public does not in any sense have a statistically meaningful understanding of crime rates. They have an understanding of crime only as A) what happens to them in their own personal lives, and B) what they see about crime in the media. The way the pseudo-smart set of political pundits talk about these issues matters because it rapidly hardens into mainstream conventional wisdom, which is incredibly hard to dislodge, no matter the number of investigative stories showing a different reality. A bunch of lurid crimes blasted on TV news combined with the elevator pitch of ​“police stop crime so defunding the police is awful now” is much easier to process than the complex reality of what actually creates crime, and how to mitigate its underlying causes. (I am no criminologist, but Occam’s razor tells me that the 2020 increase in violent crime was probably driven by a physically and economically devastating global pandemic rather than a defunding of the police that did not actually happen. But hey, who knows.) The willingness of all the political analysts to completely gloss over the substance of the police reform debate while leaning into the cheap, dishonest attack ad version of it is exactly the sort of epistemologically corrupt choice that these people make all the time in order to preserve the veneer of being analytical observers standing outside of the partisan fray.

What causes violent crime in our communities? What effect do police budgets have on crime? What is the price of having more police — in money, but also in the human toll on those who are police targets? What are the hidden opportunity costs of municipal money spent on police forces rather than on social programs? Are there other programs or trained professionals we could allocate resources to that would produce better, healthier outcomes than the same amount of resources dedicated to police? These are the honest terms of the debate on defunding the police. If they do not bear any resemblance to the questions being discussed by the pundits who ostensibly talk about politics, it is because their definition of politics does not include caring about being honest.

[super-predictable98]

Killin’ It | Assassination Classroom AU

Chapter 1: Welcome to Class E

Warning: People being ignorant about autism, talk about anxiety, mention of death and violence.

(Killin’ It Masterlist)

I can't believe you're starting your third year in Class E. Her mother's words kept echoing inside her head like the most hurtful mantra. She was also ashamed of herself, she tried her best to stay in class B, but it was no use.

Her grades were rapidly dropping, she had way too many absences due to anxiety attacks that only seemed to get worse after she started attending this stupid prep school, and tests always ended up giving her a stomach ache. Truth is the way the school worked made it nearly impossible for her to learn anything, let alone get passing grades.

The teachers would take away her fidget toys and comfort items that stopped her from going into sensory overload, they took away her earbuds and medication, they refused to excuse her when she was having episodes, and many of them actually voiced their concerns regarding her 'faking it' for attention or to get out of class. Still, the staff expected her to perform like any other student, but Mirai wasn't like any other student.

"My doctor requested additional time for my tests and assignments... But it's only for Math and Physics, I don't need these accommodations for other subjects. Actually, I placed second in Engish and Japanese last year, only behind your son and-"

"No, Miyazaki-san," Asano, the tyrannous headmaster, shook his head. "It would be unfair to the other students."

"Please call me Mirai."

"That's highly inappropriate, Miyazaki-san. I'm really sorry about your situation, but maybe you should consider treating your autism before you start year three."

"So you don't understand how autism works, this is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You don't treat autism, can you treat your complete and utter ignorance? No! Cause you were born with it and now you just have to live like this."

That sentence earned her a suspension, she would start a few weeks after everyone else and according to the principal, she was lucky to still study there at all. That's when she realized Asano didn't give a shit about any of them, they were simply numbers he could move around and play with. As long as the majority of the students were scared to be sent to Class E, he could fearmonger them into getting good grades.

"Miyazaki-san," a hand on her shoulder made her squeal. She didn't usually have an issue with physical touch, but she sure likes to know who's touching her beforehand.

"Could you please call me Mirai?"

"What?" the tall man with sharp features and dark hair grimaced. He was used by now to the girls hitting on him, but she didn't seem to have any ulterior motives of that sort.

"Nevermind..." she averted her gaze.

"I'd like to have a word with you, my name is Tadaomi Karasuma, I work for Japan's Ministry of Defense and I need to give you some information about Class E and your new teacher."

"Am I in trouble? Already?" her stomach twisted with fear. "Is this because of what I said to Principal Asano? I apologized already, I even wrote him a letter!"

"No, it's nothing to do with that, you're part of a very important top-secret mission."

She didn't trust the man, but he was the only one waiting for her at the satellite campus, it's not like she had another choice but to follow him.

Mirai quietly listened to the full explanation about the monster that would be her teacher, the same one who blew up the moon, the one she was supposed to kill with the help of her classmates for an insane amount of money.

"I'm really bad at understanding sarcasm or stuff like that, is this a joke?" she asked as Karasuma handed her a green rubber knife, a gun, and loads of tiny pink bullets.

"No, it's not a joke, Miyazaki-san, the world depends on you and the other Class E students. The weapons are harmless to humans, but they will work on him. You have until March."

"Okay, so no pressure then..."

"And you were saying you are bad at catching irony? You seem pretty good to me."

She didn't understand how she was supposed to do such a horrible thing like killing someone. Who would become their teacher after he was dead? Why did he choose their class? Why did he want to blow up the planet? Would he really follow through with the promise not to harm any of the kids?

There were way too many questions that she didn't have the nerve to ask before accepting the mission (not that she thought she had the option not to accept it). But it was too late to go back now, she was already an assassin.

——————————————————

"Hello everyone, before any assassination attempts, I'd like to introduce your newest classmate, Miyazaki-san!" Koro-sensei placed one of his tentacles on her shoulder.

That creature was gigantic, he would be intimidating if it wasn't for his big smile and gentle voice. Mirai never really understood what made someone look intimidating or scary to others, but she decided she liked his face (even if his mouth didn't move when he spoke, which was a little creepy).

"Koro-sensei, excuse me," she called hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Would you please call me by the first name? I know it's not exactly appropriate for a teacher to use it, but I hate my last name."

"Why is that?" he whispered, thinking it might embarrass her to say it out loud.

"That's my father's name and he abandoned me and my mom when I was two. He never showed up or called again, I haven't heard from him since and he didn't even bother paying child support, so my mom always struggled to raise me. Hearing that name makes me really anxious and sad... None of my teachers ever-" she whispered back, but he didn't even let her finish.

"Don't worry, no one deserves to be reminded of something like that. It's okay," he said as he scribbled over her last name on his attendance sheet. "I'm so sorry, everyone. I made a mistake, our new student's name is Mirai-san. You can sit down, there's an empty seat right behind Okajima-kun."

"Thank you so much, sensei."

"Oh, and I saw in your file that you have GAD and ASD," his voice dropped one more time. "If you need any accommodations please let me know. During anxiety attacks you can always just leave the room to get some water or fresh air, you don't have to ask first. If you have a hard time understanding any subjects or you need extra time, different assignments... Don't be ashamed to ask for help. I also made some squishy fidget toys if you want, and I have noise-canceling headphones!"

Her eyes filled with tears, she couldn't believe someone finally listened and understood, someone finally cared. Maybe class E wasn't as bad as everyone was made to believe.

"Hey, I'm Taiga Okajima, so nice to meet you," the boy kissed the back of Mirai's hand, just like he had seen in movies and TV shows.

"Hi," she murmured uncomfortably, not really understanding that he was trying to impress her. "Nice to meet you too."

"You were from class B, right? I remember you," a somewhat familiar voice called from behind.

"Karma-kun," Mirai finally noticed his presence.

They had never talked before, they must've exchanged five words at most ever since they started at Kunugigaoka, but she knew who he was: the boy with the pretty eyes and the voice that gave her goosebumps, but a serious attitude problem.

"What? Surprised to see me?" he leaned back in his chair. "Do you have a fever or something? You're so red..."

"No! I'm fine, I just didn't expect. You've always had some of the best grades, I don't get why they would send you here."

"That's what I get for trying to help someone, but I'm happy," he grabbed the knife from under his desk and lazily played with it. "Now I get to kill a teacher and I still get paid for it! Aren't you excited, Mirai-chan?"

What did he just call me?

If her face was red before, now it felt like she was about to catch fire. Only Karma would ever feel he had the right to call her Mirai-chan after a one minute conversation... And she found she liked that about him, it was certainly better than Miyazaki-san.

"I guess I am," she turned around to escape his penetrating gaze, holding up her gun and aiming for Koro-sensei's head. She didn't want to kill him, especially not after learning how sweet he was, but if Karma was so excited about it, she wanted to show him she could. How hard could it be?

"Mirai-san, we have a rule about assassination attempts during class. Don't let your blood thirst interfere with your learning, understood?" Koro-sensei said, waving her gun in the air with his tentacle, that's when she noticed she wasn't holding it anymore.

"Yes, sir," she smiled to herself looking down at her freshly painted nails and perfectly braided hair. She heard that he was fast, but that was still unbelievable. "And thank you, I think this is really my color."

"I can do your makeup next time," he offered smugly, green stripes covering his head.

——————————————————

"So, how was it?" Kyoka asked as soon as her daughter walked through the door.

"It was good, mom," Mirai left her shoes and rushed to the kitchen.

"Good good or just okay?"

"It was great! I have a new teacher, he gave me this," she held up the small yellow octopus-shaped squishy toy Koro-sensei had made for her. "He's the best! Too bad that we have to..."

"You have to what?"

"Nothing, I was thinking of something else. Class E is actually amazing, nobody bothers us at the satellite campus, we have a handsome PE teacher who knows everything about fights, all the students are nice. I mean, I didn't talk to all of them, but all the ones I talked to were nice."

"What's that you have there?" Kyoka looked away from the vegetables she was dicing, her attention was caught by the green knife in her daughter's backpack.

"Oh! It's- It's fake, actually it's for PE, we're learning self-defense stuff, don't worry," Mirai pulled the knife out and bent it in half. "See? It's rubber."

"Ah, okay, you scared me for a second, I thought my daughter became a murderer," she laughed. Of course she wished things were different, but if Class E was that great, maybe the beginning of this new year was a blessing in disguise.

"Mom! If I were to kill someone I wouldn't be a simple murderer, I'd be an assassin and save the world!"

"Yeah okay... Go to your room and wash your hands, assassin, dinner is almost ready."

[lightsong-legacy]

Send ’Fearmonger’ for a drabble about one of my muse’s worst fears. - for alllll of them!

First of all... OOF

Okay, let’s get to it.

“CASI! CASI PLEASE!” The scream shot through the Confessor. Where was she? How did she get here? As she turned she saw them, her hands going to her face in horror. Half charred bodies of the Crusaders she had unknowingly helped to lead right into this trap. The ones who had trusted her to get them home safely, the ones she could not save. And then it began to happen once more. The confessor backing up, shaking her head as she felt the tears running down her face again. No...No it couldn’t be. The sickening crack of bones breaking and twisting. The wet ripping sound of flesh being torn asunder as some of them were mutated, changed into horrific ‘trees’. Their faces still apparant, the pain clear in their eyes and she knew. She knew if she cut open that tree she would still see their heart, beating. “CONFESSOR! PLEASE!”

“Stop...Stop...I can’t...I c-can’t...” Her words trembled out, as she continued to back up, only to hit something and she gazed up in horror. A fel guard, grabbed the woman using a single hand as she screamed the Light wouldn’t come. Nothing would save her. She stared over, eyes wide as they approached with the knife once more....

Casial was shook awake by a terrified Cy’Rua, the student holding onto her as the woman dug her nails into her arms. “Casial. Please...It’s Asp...”

They pair ran into the room, Asphodel’s chambers...Colder than usual. The woman pale on the bed. “Cy’Rua what is happening?” Casial questioned, running to her sister’s side and holding her pale hand. “I don’t know...I...Its nightmare magic. That I know, I can’t seem to break what is on her as I did with you though. I need your help.” There wasn’t thought, or planning in it. No. Casial jumped into her sister’s mind, trying to work through those barriers and wards. Trying to free here once more, as she had to before. 

Asphodel though, she was lost in the darkness once more. Screaming, keening as she reached for what she couldn’t have. What the void always took. That’s all it did, for the power it offered there was always a draw back. Something always had to leave. She could feel the lump in her throat grow as she watched her children, her three children she should have been able to love. To give the life she never got to have just get pulled into the darkness. It was always there, always consuming. “Enough! You’ve taken ENOUGH! Give them back! Give me my life back!” She screamed, the runes along her body glowing keeping the void from grabbing her...But, it didn’t keep anyone else safe. And once Casial made her presence in the ‘nightmare’ it went for her. “No! No not her! CASI! CASI!” Her heartbroken voice echoed as the darkness around the confessor started to envelop her, slowly dragging her back as Asphodel desperately grabbed her hand. “You can’t...You can’t have her! Please...Please!” 

When all seemed lost, Asphodel came to right before her sister vanished into the abyss. Now curled around her hand and gripping Casial’s hand tightly as Cy’Rua panted and fell back. “I...I did it. I...That was a strong spell. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took a bit longer than expected.” She gasped out.

The sisters hugged for the moment, clearly shaken. Who could do this? Get through all their wards? Attack them within their own home? Then a look of horror came to Asp’s features as she flung herself from the bed. “Where is Lya?”

The entire room seemed to pause, before Casial and Asphodel started running with Cy’Rua doing her best to keep up. There were no servants, no one. It was as if the whole manor was under the same nightmare inducing spell and when they got to Lya’s room, Asphodel dove towards her adopted daughter, cradling her face as Casial checked on the twins. 

Within her own mind, Lya was a child once more. Yet instead of being in Lordaeron, she was in the ruins of Theramore. Her brother and her father’s squire holding her hands as she tried to navigate through the rubble. “Sis...Sis slow dow-” “Shhh...” Her brother began, before Lya swiftly shushed him. “Whisper...Whisper or the-” But it was too late, above the crate they had been hiding behind was a horrific arcane imbued ghoul. It reached for her as she screamed, trying to push the older boys behind her. But, she promised, she promised her father she would get them out. That all those pranks, all that hiding she had been done would have been worth something...SOMETHING. But, it never reached her, the hand that had been there was completely gone as the ghoul burned in shadowy flame. There once again, like it had been before was Asphodel, offering her hand. “Its time to come home...”

Lya awoke to a tear stained face, but if it was from her or from Casial she couldn’t tell. The three women huddled, thoroughly spooked and terrified not only but what they had seen, but the thought of someone able to do it.

Cy’Rua stood, an outsider looking in. She knew she wasn’t really part of this family, but...Sometimes it was nice to think. But, watching well, it was moments like this she remembered. But, she could dwell on her feelings later. She had to figure this out, she had to find out who did this, and then maybe...Just maybe...

But, then it all clicked, it all made sense as she felt that burning presence getting closer and closer. She slowly turned, seeing the manor going up in flames outside this room as three figures made their way down the hallway. Two wreathed and fire and the last in shadow. “...Little nightmare, its time to come home.”

Cy’Rua woke with a start, panting and sweat soaked as she gazed around her room. A nightmare...That’s all it was. A nightmare. She curled up on her bed, still trying to catch her breath as she stared into the darkness. But, how long until they came? Was it a warning? Were they just trying to make her afraid?

A knock on her door startled her, a monotone yet almost comforting voice coming through. “Training, ten minutes.” Those were questions for another day, for now, it was time to carry on.

(Thank you for the ask! @thalsianiii )

[worstaid]

Send ’Fearmonger’ for a drabble about one of my muse’s worst fears.

💉  —— < LENA! >

For a man as young as he, Ludwig was strong. The two men restraining him by either arm had trouble keeping him from tearing free, sometimes clinging to just fabric before they managed to get a firm hold again. He had worked with these men, broke bread with these men, drank with these men, laughed with these men, called these men his friends. The same voices that had shared stories with him nights before were speaking in hushed tones on how to dissemble all he’d worked so hard - so long - to create.

< You went against my direct orders, Ludwig. > he spoke, voice thick with malice. Ludwig could see it, the way he looked down with such passive eyes, his features stolid, never before has such a cruel act been carried out by someone looking so bored. < You’ve wasted enough resources and time. Not just ours, but yours as well. Your time has run out, Ludwig. >

< Ghnn— LENA! >

His voice was brittle, teeth grit while he lunged forward, thrashing like a wild animal to save this. It wasn’t just his time, it was hers! The things he’d done, the things he’d subjected her to, the things she’d asked him to subject her to, it couldn’t all be for nothing. This extreme measure he’d taken was supposed to be the final stage of the process, and it was being torn apart right in front of him.

Her time was running out.

If he could just pause the clock, if he could just—

< You cannot play god, Ludwig. You may be a doctor, but you are still a man. >

For some reason, those words had pulled such vicious strength from deep within him, Ludwig finally broke free. He stumbled, damn-near toppled over trying to get to her, but froze mere steps away. Everything around him was still, the men, the machine, the harsh wind of Germany’s winter, everything but the sound of a beating heart, and a ticking clock.

< ...Lena, >

Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...

< Lena, please, >

Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...

< Please forgive me for being just a man. >

And there, suspended in the air, outstretched hand so close to pulling the men away from his work, Ludwig bowed his head,

and listened to her heart, and the clock, stop.

[africanization101]

Europe will be Black - or it will cease to be.

When non-Europeans are asked to name the first thing they associate with Europe, many of them will probably go with ‘white people’; and I can’t exactly fault them for it, given how prominent us dear white people have featured in the history of the continent.

But Europeans (at least those who aren’t explicit nationalists) probably have other associations. To a European, Europe is more of a concept involving peace, freedom, equality and cosmopolitanism. And while reality surely falls short of these lofty aspirations in many cases, that is also true of every other idea and system ever conceived.

The point is that many Europeans want to think of their continent as an open and vibrant melting pot--and honestly, why shouldn’t they?

I already mentioned falling short of these aspirations. One such shortcoming, despite all the interracialist pleading and right-wing fearmongering to the contrary, is the concept of borders, which still very much exist for Europe.

But being the enlightened creatures that they are, European leaders don’t build big, phallic walls that Mexico will surely pay for any day now; they outsource much of their border policing to African nations, whose armed forces stop prospective migrants on Europe’s behest and whose governments are rewarded with money, arms and military training in return.

This passive-aggressive approach to migration tells us two things. One, there already is a desire to emigrate from Africa to Europe big enough for otherwise cosmopolitan centrists to worry about immigration control. Two, they really, really don’t want to be publicly associated with this immigration control. They just hope that what happens in Africa stays in Africa and they won’t be held accountable for violating Europe’s ideals in this way.

After all, when it comes to optics, our leaders would much prefer Europe to be a colorful and slightly queer dance party of diversity and inclusion.

The problem facing these leaders is that while emigration from Africa is pretty much an unstoppable force, weak-willed European border outsourcing is not even close to an immovable object. Something has to give and that something will be Europe’s borders.

There simply isn’t much of an alternative to this. The only alternative is to use force against migrants in a way that offers no plausible deniability, but even Europe’s nationalist parties are generally too sensitive (and, hopefully, also sensible) to advocate for this.

Europeans on some level know that when millions of Africans eventually do show up at their doorstep to redeem the European promise, they will be left with the choice to either mix it up and stay European or wall themselves off and become something much less flattering and attractive to both themselves and the world.

They’d rather not deal with that choice for the moment, but when it comes, I hope and believe they will do the right thing and embrace Europe’s Africanized destiny with all the cultural, genetic and lifestyle enrichment it will bring to a continent that, frankly, has become a little flaccid in the recent past.

[wisepuma23]

Prompt: Logan v Virgil, maybe something like Virgil panicking over one of Thomas's tests? And maybe he either pushes Logan to overwork until he snaps or he and Logan end up fighting over how prepared Thomas is for it?

omg thanks for the prompt, anon!!

Warnings: Language, Abuse, Manipulation, Violence

Pairings: Platonic LMP 

“We have studied the material enough times!” Logan shouted as he paced around his room, “If we study it anymore, it’s not productive at that point.”

Anxiety sat perched on Logan’s desk, “His professor said chemical engineering is incredibly hard and most people drop out.” He studied his fingers, “If we don’t ace this test, Thomas will drop out, and then he’ll starve, and then die on the streets.”

Logan turned on his heel sharply, “That is a falsehood. Stop pestering me with your cognitive distortions!”

Anxiety’s eyes narrowed, “I’m just telling you the truth, Einstein.” He stood up and stalked closer, “Is it or is it not true, that if Thomas doesn’t pass this course, his whole degree plan gets pushed back? If he gets it at all?”

Logan adjusted his tie with a growl, “Thomas can move at his own pace. He can take the course again next semester.”

“And who’s going to pay for it?” Anxiety’s hand shot out and yanked down on his tie, “His parents? His scholarships?” Logan couldn’t breathe, “Most of all, Thomas is gonna pay for it. We’d be shitheads to let him fail.”

Logan glared down at him, “You’re wrong, Anxiety.”

Anxiety threw him against his desk, sending papers up in a flutter. Pain shot up and down Logan’s side as he bit back a hiss. Damn him. Did he know how long it took to organize these?! Logan opened his mouth to let him know, but Anxiety raised a fist and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Logan clicked his mouth shut.

“I’m right and you’re wrong,” Anxiety said, acid dripping from his tone, “Got it?”

The door slammed shut behind the dark side. Logan swiped at his eyes and ignored how his hands shook. He wouldn’t let it get to him. Fearmongering and false information all meant to herd him into doing whatever Anxiety wanted. Well, it wasn’t going to work! Logan got on his knees and started to pick up his papers.

Rebellion, it is then.

Logan spent the next few days whispering to Thomas to take walks outside on campus. A few naps out in the sunshine. A long shower to scrub out the suds of frustration and stress. Anything at all to put Thomas’ needs first and his priorities second. Logan ran the numbers and they did not need to run any more study sessions. He even checked up with Patton daily to see if the study memories were still there. Their light never fading.

He put Thomas first, which was something a dark side like Anxiety could never understand. Logan even let himself relax for the past few days as the exam date grew closer. Thomas didn’t need the extra stress, especially if Roman wanted to go see that play tomorrow. Valuable time for Thomas to forget his stress and allow him to experience a modicum of happiness despite mid-terms.

Logan knew it couldn’t last.

The TV flickered the warm and fuzzy colors of a Disney movie. Patton snored against the armrest of the couch, his soft blanket wrapped around him in a cocoon. Roman slept on the other side of him, his legs flopped over Logan’s lap. Logan drifted on the thin edge between wakefulness and sleep. Nearing midnight, he really needed to sleep. But he wanted to see how it ended.

A hand closed around his throat and pulled him up and over the couch. Logan’s eyes shot open as he clawed at the iron-clad hand. Roman’s legs slipped away as Logan’s world tilted. Anxiety slammed him against the floor behind the couch, his fingers squeezing until Logan gasped.

Anxiety held up a finger to his lips, “Shut your ever talking gob for once, or Thomas won’t see for you a few days.”

Logan nodded as his lungs burned.

Anxiety smiled, a strange feature splitting his pale face in half. His dark eyeshadow in the near darkness of the living room made the back of Logan’s neck shiver. Anxiety wasn’t someone to trifle with. Especially since Logan had made near blatant efforts to get rid of him and his influence the last few days. Self-care, Logan’s best weapon against the evils that plagued Thomas daily. And his best defense. Second only to knowledge.

Anxiety pulled him with a crack through the folds of the mindscape. Logan fell onto his bedroom’s floor as he coughed. Logan ran a finger over the blossoming bruises against his throat. Anxiety ignored his wheezing and instead locked his room with a click. Definitely not a good sign then.

Anxiety turned around and pulled him up by his shirt and onto the bed. Logan glared, he didn’t see the point in Anxiety manhandling him like a sack of potatoes but he found over the years it was best not to resist. The dark side took up his usual perch on his desk, and Logan bit back a growl at the papers crumpling under his weight. He let his black hoodie fall back as he rolled up his sleeves to reveal pale arms scarred with past battles.

“We need to talk, Logic,” Anxiety drawled as he flexed his fingers, tendons dipping in and out of his flesh, “I really do enjoy playing the villain, so I have to thank you.” Logan swallowed as Anxiety’s fingers elongated into black claws, “It’s been a while.”

“Anxiety, think about Thomas,” Logan said, not pleading, never pleading, “Think about him for once! Working from sunup to sundown isn’t healthy. Humans die younger from too much stress.” He knuckled his dark blue duvet, “At least I care about him more than you’d ever do.”

Anxiety shot up, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Logan’s shoulders shook with contained anger, all traces of sleep gone, “I said I care about him than you ever could.”

Anxiety grabbed his chin, his pitch black eyes stared down at him, “At least I do my fucking job. I’m protecting him from failure and what are you doing?” Logan ignored the spittle splattered on his glasses, “Smelling the goddamn flowers?! Pretending is everything is fine?? But it’s NOT!”

“It is–”

“Shut up!” Anxiety growled, “I don’t care? Oh, I care, I care a lot, which is why I’m even here! What, you think I’m going to let Thomas fail because of your incompetence?” Anxiety yanked on his head until Logan whimpered. Anxiety dragged him over to his desk and thrust him into his ergonomic chair not too kindly. The dark side snapped his fingers and his papers flew off his desk in a whirlwind. Until there was nothing left but his textbooks, his notebooks open, and the study guide on top of it all.

Logan turned to look at his messy room behind him but Anxiety pulled him by the hair and shoved his face down into his study guide. The words blurred just beyond his nose. Anxiety blew out a soft sigh, almost out of relief.

“Keep your nose to the grind,” Anxiety bit out, “And maybe Thomas won’t think you’re a pea-brained loser like the side you really are. I’m helping you fool him with your smart schtick.” His claws scratched his scalp as Logan struggled against the desire to read chemical equations until it burned, “Do your job, alright? Nothing is more important than this test. It’s Thomas’ future.”

The worst part about it all, Anxiety was right. All sides who spent time in Logan’s room grew only more honest and logical. So it stood to reason that Anxiety spoke the truth. There was more he could do, and Anxiety was only showing him that. Chemical equations spun in his head, acids fizzled and popped, conjured into existence as his eyes traced the first of the lines on the study guide. Logan ignored the sound of a door clicking closed behind him.

Nothing was more important than this exam. Not even Logan. He was nothing, just another cog in the grand machine meant to do his job. And he would do it. Logan’s pencil scratched in his notebook well into the morning.

Roman knocked on Logan’s door, “Hey, we haven’t seen you in a few days. Are you Gucci, nerd?”

Silence answered. So that was a no. He rolled his eyes as he bit back a sigh. Roman pressed his ears to the wood, but only the sounds of pages being flicked made it through. He dropped his forehead against the door and made a pitiful sound. So that’s why Thomas missed the play, then.

“I’m coming in!” Roman called, one hand on the hilt of his sword, “It’s just me, Roman.”

Roman opened the door and his shoulders dropped at the sight of the room inside. Papers and papers of information and equations were pinned up on the walls. Miniature models of various molecules littered the floor and a particularly large DNA model laid on Logan’s bed. Almost like a lover. Roman shook his head and ignored the thoughts of Logan again being sexually attracted to the weirdest things. Like deadlines.

The side himself sat at his desk. His back hunched and bent like some kind of gremlin. Roman bit back a noise of disgust at Logan’s oily slicked back hair. Did the nerd even take a shower? Logan muttered to himself as Roman laid a hand on his shoulder. Logan didn’t even look up.

“Logan?” Roman whispered, then kneeled down to his level, “We can’t keep going like this. Thomas can’t either.” He put both hands on Logan’s shoulders, not even a glance in his direction, “Please. Just–just snap out of it, my good man!”

“Roman,” Patton called from the doorway, “It won’t work. This is just what happens sometimes…”

Roman shot up, “This isn’t healthy!” He blew out a breath of hot air as he rubbed his temples, “He goes on and on about self-care yet this is what he does in the end! He’s a hypocrite.”

Patton tugged off a blanket from underneath the DNA model on Logan’s bed. He draped it around Logan’s coiled shoulders. His mutterings and recitations never ceased in its tedious rhythm. Patton ran a hand through Logan’s hair and dropped a kiss against his temple.

Roman rolled his eyes as Patton glared at him to do the same. Fine, then. He could be an utter sap for Patton’s sake. Only because he loved his honey puff so much.

Besides, It’s not like Logan would remember him in this strange state in any case. Logan would claim amnesia even if Roman griped about how convenient it all was. In any case, he had to bend to Patton’s sweet demand. Roman ran a tender hand down Logan’s bent spine and dropped a kiss against his sweaty temple. His skin was oddly hot for some reason. Eugh.

But Patton’s beaming smile made it all worth it.

“Come on,” Patton tugged on Roman’s hand, “We have to leave him to it.” His fingers twisted around Roman’s as his smile grew sadder, “I’ll have Thomas call his parents after all this is over. And then Logan will be right as rain.”

“Are you sure, Pat?” Roman said, his voice soft as Logan’s felt comforter, “I thought…we actually agreed on something for once. He said he wanted to go to that play,” He buried his face into Patton’s shoulder as they walked back to the door, “Never mind I suppose. Next–next time I’ll find something more impressive.”

Patton kissed Roman’s hairline, “He’s proud of you. I know he doesn’t say it but he does.” His hold tightened, “I swear it.”

Roman scoffed. He heard Patton’s soft sigh, aw great, he disappointed yet another person today. A headache grew behind his sockets. Roman only hoped this crazed last-minute cramming nightmare ended sooner rather than later. Hardly anyone could be creative under these abysmal conditions!

Patton pulled him out into the hall and closed the door behind them with a quiet click. The two sides drifted away to talk and find a quiet place to ride the brainstorm out. Until Thomas could finally breathe and break down. And Logan could finally eat, talk, and laugh again. Like nothing ever happened.

However, the mystery as to exactly why Logan turned into that frightening state never had an answer. Patton thought it’d always been, and always would be. Roman hated anything that could twist his friend into some..some…control freak. However, he had to chalk it up to Logan’s often weird quirks. Even if niggled at him how could a such a logical and orderly side like Logan fall into chaos the minute something important loomed close. Deadlines, exams, and interviews.

Logan couldn’t answer Roman’s questions and had long grown used to Patton’s sad smile as his recollections failed him. His memories fractured and broke every time he tried. Patton could only pat his hand and tell him it was okay now. As if he wasn’t okay then.

Logan brushed his fingers against his throat for days afterward. Feeling for bruises that were never there. The ghost memory of flames that licked up his back and nipped at his heels. A sense of being burned as his fingers and eyes worked beyond his control. Trapped, silent, and tortured. Perhaps it was for the best he didn’t recall the searing orange flames that kissed his cheeks as his bitter tears evaporated, and didn’t pull away until he finished reading chapter seven. Again and again, burnt, flayed, until he finished eight volumes back to back. Flames on the side of his face.

No. Logan didn’t remember. And the memories were lost to a filing error that he couldn’t bring himself to restore. Instead, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with his family on either side of him. Roman pulled him tighter as Patton buried his nose into the back of his neck. All he wanted to remember was right here.

Anxiety, in his dark candlelit room, couldn’t quite go to sleep just yet. He pulled out a dark purple chest covered in emo band covers, from underneath his bed. Anxiety took out a purple lighter from the back pocket of his jeans. He flicked it on and off, the flames whooshing in and out, lighting up his smirk. Finally, he opened his hand and let it drop into the chest. The lighter disappeared into the inky blackness depths with a pop.

A dark curl of satisfaction sat in his chest as he closed it with a click. Anxiety slipped the box back under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

Logan was just another workaholic. Nothing more, nothing less. A mystery that wouldn’t be solved, because there was no mystery. Patton and Roman never looked into the matter further. While years later, Virgil shifted uncomfortably whenever he brought it up. Logan didn’t understand why. Virgil simply went all quiet and instead ask to be excused.

Logan didn’t bring it up again.

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[ttreingdar]

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[rantingoverbadfic]

‘Fork in the road’ absolutism

The are certain kinds of fandom - and this is not a value judgement, this is simply due to how canon developed - that have a large cluster of fic that can be loosely defined as “pitting one group against another and there is no middle ground”.

Stargate is one such polarizing fandom. I remember that for one time the declassification and its aftermath trope was a standard feature in Big Bangs. What it essentially does is pit “Earth first” mentality against “we are part of a galactic community and have to play nice with others” mentality and depending on what bug bit the author at that moment the fic takes either a turn towards a dark dystopia where Earthlings react to the declassification very badly and World War III breaks out, or alternatively they band together in the face of the rest of the galaxy and bomb any chance at alliances - and thus  a chance of Earth surviving not-Earth-native threats into oblivion. The moral is “Declassification bad, no secret ever is worth being revealed because otherwise we are all going to die. The secrecy justifies the fascist state of mind and being; oversight, what oversight.” Or the declassification is very tightly controlled and overall Earthlings surprise the SGC with being much more accepting and appreciative of aliens and of the SGC-veterans than they expected. Usually, of course, with a smattering of nutjobs and fundamentalists, but overall pretty positive. Moral: “Declassification good and the public has the right to know where their money is spent, and as a rule of a thumb, humans are pretty chill.”

In reality, humanity has been debating alien life for several decades already and hashed out pretty much every major approach, and there will be enough alien-lovers and alien-haters, and if someone wants to kill people or push their ideology, they will find a reason, whether it is aliens or mexicans or some other outgroup. And personally, I am of the opinion, that if you start a program that you have no intention of ever making public, while funding it with tax dollars and using public ressources, then don’t.

From what I have seen, The Sentinel fandom circumvented the whole drama of “Jim is the only known sentinel and he will treated as a lab experiment” and “there are other sentinels who need help therefore Blair is morally obligated to make his research public” completely, simply stating as a premise for the majority of fic that “Sentinels and Guides are known and have an established global network”. Or going full canon with Jim - and maybe a handful of other Guides/Sentinels that are personally known to Jim and/or Blair. As far as I have seen, there is no (or barely menioned) inbetween-fic, where Jim and Blair start establishing this network and fighting for Sentinel/Guide rights and accomodations. But this is a fandom I came to after it’s heyday and know mostly as a worldbuilding fandom, not as a fandom in its own right.

Another such fandom is Harry Potter. There is the tenor of the books, that makes a case for an integration of muggleborn wix into wizarding society and propagating the “separate but equal” mentality. (Which while iffy, I can at least somewhat understand. If they were truly treated as equal, then it would actually help magicals and muggles to co-exist peacefully.) Though, to be fair, I haven’t actually seen fic so far that works with the concept of wix being known to muggles, like in The Sentinel. Would be interesting to see different takes on it. Because I have seen several examples of the opposite already where either the muggles who find out about wizards unwittingly are absolutely pantsshittingly terrified of this group of people who have the ability to mindwipe and gaslight people and make evidence disappear with absolutely no recourse. And where wix are being fearmongered by muggles finding out about them and bombing the shit out of known wizard spaces. There seems to be no middle ground, where muggles might be startled but go “Wow!!! Wow. okay. Now, back to our usual bullshit, this time with an extra heap of speculation if maybe a wizard did it.” It never seems to occur that maybe wizards will be just a one day, one week max sensation and then be folded into the dull minutiae of life, especially since there are already a lot of muggles in the know. (Actually, Stargate is much more problematic in that way, because only the president and later the heads of the states in the IOA are in the know, but barely anyone else, whether it is the Congress or heads of different agencies or services. In HP it is at least indicated that the Prime Minister isn’t the only one in the know, but that there are actually some people in overlapping structures who are read in/supposed to be read in, even if it seems to be mostly non-functional at the time of the book events.)

My difficulty with the seclusionist approach is that it is codswallop. As long as the wizarding world is dependent on the muggle one for several things - because magical societies are too small to be autark despite the use of magic, they need access to muggles more than muggles need them. And as long as there are muggleborn magicals, they need access wizard spaces and wizarding society, or they might as well not bother with the Statute of Secrecy at all. And if magicals retreat into a pocket dimension or onto another planet or what not, they are either deciding to abandon those muggleborns and prefer to starve - or they give away that, actually, they are not all that concerned with theft and assault and kidnapping, so long as it serves their own interests, and lose their moral high ground. As unsatisfying the separatist approach is, at least it gives muggleborn and muggle-raised magicals the ability to choose what world they want to live in and to keep contact with their friends and families. Which, somehow, never is a consideration when well-meaning supposedly light magicals start propagating retreat into a pocket dimension.

I wonder why these ‘fork in the road’ scenarios are always treated in such absolutes. Why does it have to be “death to muggles!” or “death to magicals!”, instead of “maybe if we stopped treating muggles worse than house-elves, they wouldn’t be so inclined to drop a bomb on us”; why does it have to be “declassification yay!” or “declassification nay!” instead of “declassification meh: the good, the bad and the ugly”. I understand the drama inherent in pitting two factions against each other, but fanfic was always more about the fix-it than about indulging the inner Joss impulse to kill the fan favorites and torture the rest.