#they aren't the only one with this issue but still

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday to you! More merthur role reversal, please and thank you!

a continuation of 1 2

Merlin doesn't have high expectations regarding Arthur's skill as a servant. He's a peasant farmer with an unexpected grasp of weaponry who's probably never even been inside a castle before he'd gotten conscripted into fighting in their war against Camelot.

Arthur is, obviously and understandably, upset at the role he's been forced into. Merlin means to give it a week and then convince his mother that sending Arthur home is a much better reward than making him do Merlin's laundry. Plus, they already have servants who've actually been trained to do this work. He figures after a week of Arthur bumbling around, sending him home will be a relief for everyone.

Except that he's really good at it.

A day in, he has the entire layout of the castle memorized. He knows which clothes go to the laundress and which just need to be beat and set in the sun. He figures out how to order a bath and knows what weird salts and oils go in it even though Merlin usually can't be bothered. He stands with perfect posture at the high table and switches seamlessly between pouring him water and wine, clocking correctly that he can't handle more than two glasses without making a fool of himself, which he thinks he should be offended by except that he's right. He knows which meals Merlin can take in his room and when he has to be dragged to the great hall, memorizes his schedule like the life of a prince is something logical and not a mess of responsibilities and priorities. He even manages to sort Merlin's potions ingredients without much issue, even if he does mutter disparagingly about the waste, which he doesn't understand but decides not to ask.

Frankly, he's the best servant that Merlin's ever had, but even if he wasn't, he still would be, because he's not afraid of his magic.

People aren't afraid of him, really, thank the goddess, but his magic is huge and terrifying and he can only control it with any accuracy half the time. Every time he goes to cast something, everyone ducks, even his teachers.

Arthur has no magic of his own, and honestly seems faintly disapproving of the whole idea of it, but when Merlin explodes something he doesn't mean to or sets it on fire or turns it blue or - well, something he doesn't intend to, something that could so easily be turned against him if Merlin isn't careful, he doesn't so much as flinch.

Even Will is wary of getting caught in his crossfire. Arthur just seems irritated when it ends up making more work for him.

Arthur starts his day like always, throwing open his curtains and telling him to stop lazing about.

"You can't talk to me that way," Merlin says sleepily, burying his face in his pillow to escape the awful sunlight Arthur insists on letting in. "I'm a prince. And a really powerful sorcerer. I," he yawns, "I demand respect."

"You're going to be late for your meeting with your mother," Arthur says, yanking Merlin's pillow out of his arms and holding it threateningly above him. Merlin's already learned the hard way that Arthur isn't above beating him if he doesn't move fast enough.

He moans and rolls to his feet. "I'm going to put you in the stocks."

"Of course, Prince Merlin," Arthur says, as unimpressed with him as ever. "Whatever you say, Prince Merlin. You have budget proposals from the city to look over."

He groans. "You know, you should have more sympathy for me. This whole prince thing is harder than it looks! I'd like to see you do it."

Arthur's mouth twitches. "You do it, Merlin, how hard could it be?"

Uhg. One of these days he really is going to throw him in the stocks.

[loudclan-clangen]

What was Dancesun’s mark for? I remember Dogwoodmoth’s markings all had meanings and now I’m curious

~~also poor Siltsplash holy your expressionwork in this one is so good~~

Owlstar may or may not have taken some... creative liberties with Dancesun's warrior ceremony.

What Wildfirecry tried to say: I am frusterated that you feel you have the right to throw your weight around as the healer heir seeing as you haven't put the work in to earn that position.

What Rosehiptree heard: You are not living up to the memory of your sister.

Excellent image. Please accept this photo of my pomeranian wrapped in a towel as payment.

It's certainly possible, especially if that's something that the majority of people want to see, I only hesitate because I know it can be really hard for some people (me) to not peek at a family tree if I know it exists, even if I don't really want to know about the spoilers. Plus I do really enjoy surprises and plot twists and that can be difficult when yall know exactly who makes it to adulthood and who they're going to have kits with. But, yall know yourselves best, and if you would enjoy the story more with the knowledge of who inherits leadership positions let me know and I'll add "giant inheritance family tree" to my to-do-list!

Absolutely! Go nuts! And when possible tag me in it so that I can see the amazing things that you create!

Thank you! I use my Ipad and Procreate almost exclusively. I think it's the perfect balance of having all of the tools that you need while not being completely overwhelming to learn. (Though due to the simplified interface some functions can seem hidden, which I know frusterates some people but I've never run into an issue that can't be fixed with a quick google search). It's a one time purchase which I really appreciate, and I think that the $12 is completely justifiable especially compared to how much I used to spend on physical sketchbooks and pencils/markers/paints. Though if you're just starting out and aren't sure if digital art is for you IbisPaintX has pretty much all of the same tools for free (with adds) it's just a lot less convient to navigate and use. (Absolutely no hate to Ibis I LIVED for it back in highschool and I'm very glad that it's still there as a free option but if you're thinking about paying for the membership I would recommend just making the leap to a more cohesive app instead.) Of course, this is all coming from the perspective of someone who is completely petrified by the Clip Studio/Fire Alpaca type interface, so take everything I say with the knowledge that I have a major bias against them.

[lsunstreakerl]

hii sunny

free use maxussy? preferably with Daniel and/or Rico, but Charles is ok too I guess

okay, this ran away from me. by like, a fair amount. as far as the actual prompt, I did try to kind of imply that the free use is in play? there's definitely that dynamic happening. 2.1k, max POV, explicit

non-canon corporate au (because of the maxussy)

pairings: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: they're filthy here. maxussy, daddy kink, virginity kink, (roleplay?) slut shaming, max shaming, brat taming(ish), squirting, technically public sex because they're on a yacht, although no one is around.

Max is resting on the top deck, basking in the warmth. The ocean is calm around them, and while he can hear faint movement from further inside the yacht, he's perfectly content where he's at, board shorts drying under the sun.

He's got a drink he'd set down somewhere to his left, but he feels more like a lizard at the moment, stretched out on the chaise lounge.

There's footsteps near his head, cool fingers dragging through his still damp hair, tugging gently.

Max moans, rolling onto his side to blink up at Daniel. He'd had to step away for a business call earlier, and Max had considered going with him, sitting on his lap and being a nuisance, but he was just so comfortable right here.

Daniel shakes his head with the grip on his hair slightly, the rough sting at his scalp sending lightning bolts down his spine.

"What do you think, babe?"

Max blinks owlishly, snatching at the threads in his mind, trying to piece together whatever it was Daniel said that he'd missed.

He has no idea.

"Whatever you want, Daddy."

Daniel grins, hauling him up enough that Max can press his mouth across the clothed budge of his cock through his swim shorts, tongue flicking out to get a feel for where he's at.

Max props himself onto his elbows, mouthing across the fabric as he feels Daniel's fingers scratch into his scalp. Daddy wants him to use his mouth— he's got no issue with that.

His nose is pressed into the crease of Daniel's hip, surrounded by scent and skin, the taste of saltwater lingering on his shorts from their earlier swimming. Given enough time, he could probably make him cum from just this, but Daddy gets impatient, only enjoys teasing when he's doing it to Max.

Sure enough, he only gets to play around for a little bit before Daniel pulls his head back. He's made an impressive wet spot over his dick, lapping and sucking like there's nothing in the way, and a string of spit snaps from his bottom lip when he's pulled away.

"Daddy, I want—"

He sounds bratty, voice pitched high and whining, but Daniel's getting his cock out anyways, rock hard and thick, dripping precum just for Max.

He's straining forward against Daniel's hand, wants to get his mouth on him, and he can hear Daddy chuckle above him, letting him get just close enough for him to give tiny kitten licks across the head.

"You're desperate for it, yeah? You want it in your mouth?"

The grip in his hair is stinging, but Max only has one focus, one thing he wants, and he flattens his tongue out, dragging it as flat up the side as he can. Daniel groans, finally giving in and letting his grip loosen.

Max allows himself a brief moment of smugness, fitting his lips around the head of his cock, moaning around it.

"Fuck— you're a little minx, aren't you? C'mon, suck like you mean it."

Daddy wants Max to take him all the way to the base, to choke and cry, wants to see his face pink with shame.

That only works in his office, where anyone else could walk in on them. Here, out in the ocean, no one around for miles? It's the perfect time for Max to experiment. He gives a few more kitten licks, lapping up precum as he works his mouth slowly down, humming around his cock.

Daniel's breath catches, hips jerking forward into Max's mouth. He's prepared for it, pulling back so he doesn't choke, and Daniel's low groan sends heat down his spine.

"I never should've taught you how to suck cock, christ. Having fun down there?"

Max bats his lashes, letting spit pool in his mouth and drip across his cock before he swallows, sucking at the bitter precum.

Daniel is rock hard, and Max traces his tongue across the veins, flicking at them and sucking in tandem, working his mouth halfway down before slowly pulling off.

The hand in his hair tightens as he's yanked back, Daniel shoving him back into the chair as he swings a leg over him.

"That's enough out of you, you little cockslut."

He's straddling Max's chest, leaning above where Max is flat on his back, head barely up against the back of the chaise as he feels Daddy's cock slide past his lips.

His head is tugged higher by his hair, Daniel's other hand wrapping firmly around his jaw to keep his mouth open, and the first snap of Daniel's hips has his cock bumping against the back of Max's throat.

Max moans, hands coming up to weakly grip at Daniel's hips. He's setting his own pace, holding his mouth open and his head up as he fucks his face, pushing further and further each time.

Max gags as Daddy pulls him all the way down, nose buried in his hip as his fingers claw at him. He can't breathe, head swimming in thoughts of Daddy, Daddy—

The brief pinch at his nose makes his eyes roll back, pussy clenching around nothing as he struggles for air, desperately empty.

Daniel laughs, letting go of his nose so he can breathe as he pulls out, rubbing his cock across Max's cheek and nose, smearing precum across his face.

"There's my pretty boy. That's your 'fuck me' face, Maxy."

Max is well aware.

Daniel leans a hand behind him, fingers shoving between Max's skin and his shorts, dragging through the mess between his thighs. He's dripping with it, breath rushing out of him in a gasp when Daddy pinches at his clit.

"Oh, you're wet. Daddy's little slut, yeah?"

Max whines, humping up into Daddy's hand. He's so wet and empty, squirming in his tiny shorts as he feels slick slide down his thigh, Daddy's fingers are slippery with it as he rubs his palm across him, cooing at the buck of his hips.

Two fingers hook inside of him, rubbing up against his walls. Max scrabbles at Daddy's hips, trying to push himself further back onto his fingers, but Daddy's grip tightens in his hair.

The feeling of fingers sliding out of him is devastating, and he feels tears beading at his waterline.

"Daddy I want it, please—"

Daniel laughs, leaning back to slide Max's shorts off, tossing them to the side as he adjusts to be positioned with his knees pushing apart Max's thighs.

"Yes, I know you do. You get so needy for me like this Maxy, I just want to take advantage of it."

Take advantage of Max, more like. He knows this game, knows what gets Daniel off faster than anything else. He's good at this game.

He spreads his legs wider, one hand dropping down to curl protectively across his pussy as his eyes widen.

"Be gentle, Daddy, I've never..."

There's a hot smugness in his chest at the punched out groan it gets him, Daniel's hands clamping around the fat at his thighs before pushing them further apart.

Max trembles at the air against him, completely exposed. Daniel's eyes are dark, cock firm as he leans forward.

"Move your hand babe, let Daddy look at you."

Max bites at his lip as he slides his palm up, index and middle finger spreading his folds wider. There's another pulse of precum from Daddy's cock, dripping from the weeping head.

He shivers at the bump of Daniel's cock against his clit, debating dropping the act and just begging Daniel to fuck him already, but—

He's on a mission.

He drops his hand to trace his fingers featherlight across the length of his shaft, swallowing.

"Daddy... it's not going to fit."

Daniel grips his thighs tighter, rutting slowly against him, Max's slick coating him.

"I'll go slow, Maxy. Don't worry, it fits."

Max feels his pussy clench again, gut flipping with arousal at Daniel's low tone, the heat in his gaze as his cock catches at Max's entrance. He's pulled further down by his thighs, breath catching as Daddy pushes the head of his cock inside of him.

"Daddy—!"

"Shhh, it's just the tip, you can handle that. My pretty little cockslut, you're so brave when it's not inside of you, aren't you? But once it's time to actually follow through—"

Max wails, fingers clawing at the chaise as Daddy pulls him all the way onto him in one thrust, hips twitching.

"—You're just a little brat who's bitten off more than you can chew."

His mouth is open, panting as he tries to adjust to the sudden fullness, the stretch inside of him. Daddy takes one of his hands, pressing it low over his stomach as he pulls out. Max can feel it when he fucks back into him, the slight bulge under his skin, and it sends his blood white hot, squirming underneath Daddy.

"Oh— Daddy, too big, it's—"

The snap of his hips into Max as he yanks him back to meet his cock has Max drooling, eyes rolling into his head.

Daddy laughs, and he's rubbing at Max's clit, fingers slippery and sporadic.

"Too much for you to handle, Maxy? But you were so determined earlier, teasing me. You must have thought you were ready for it."

Max jerks his hips away from Daddy's fingers uselessly, tossing his head back at the feeling of his cock pressing into him, really dragging it out.

Daddy's fingers tap against his clit, toying with him as he clenches around his cock, overwhelmed at the feeling of him coring out his pussy, bringing him higher and higher.

He'd come a few times already this morning, and he knows Daniel is aware he could manage another one from his cock alone, so he's not sure why he's paying so much attention to his clit—

"Gonna squirt for me, Maxy?"

Max gasps, broken out of his role as his cheeks flush red. It's humiliating, no matter where they're at, and he hates it, hates how satisfied Daniel gets whenever he manages it, hates the way it always makes him scream.

Daniel grins sharply as he folds one of Max's knees up, fucking into him deep.

"You thought I wouldn't notice? You only play the virgin act when you want something, babe. You could've just asked, but you wanted to be a little slut about it, didn't you?"

Max's hands claw at his back, hips rocking up to meet each thrust even as he can feel his legs start to shake, moaning at each snap of Daniel's cock inside of him.

He's not admitting to shit.

Daniel shakes his head, rubbing slowly over his clit again, adding just enough pressure that Max really is concerned he might squirt.

"Danny, Danny don't make me— oh, I hate that—"

The next snap of his hips is harsher as he folds him tighter, fucking in even deeper than before.

"You get so wet when you squirt though. You make such a big mess, Maxy."

Max tosses his head to side, refusing to meet his eyes as his cheeks flush further, and he lets out a strangled moan as Daniel's fingers pinch at him again, spiraling closer to his orgasm.

"Danny, oh— please, please, Daddy don't make me—"

Daniel's fingers rub at him incessantly, grin audible in his voice.

"That was a real 'Daddy' there, huh? You need Daddy to take care of you?"

Max's head is buzzing, his entire world narrowed down to Daniel's cock inside of him, Daniel's fingers at his clit, the slowly rising feeling inside of him. He's squirming, desperately hoping Daniel will come and decide he doesn't want it anymore.

No such luck.

Max sobs as his orgasm approaches, legs shaking as he tries a last ditch attempt to escape Daniel's fingers.

"Go ahead babe, make a mess. You're filthy enough anyways, you won't even notice."

He's still rubbing at Max, over and over before he pinches lightly—

Max wails.

His head goes fuzzy as his back arches off the chaise, pussy fluttering wildly around Daniel's cock, and he's crying as it doesn't stop, muscles trembling, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Daniel immediately fucks back into him, cock heavy inside. His fingers ghost across Max's clit and he shouts, jerking away. He can hear Daniel's low laugh, and a moment later his hips settle, slowly rutting into him.

Max feels limp as Daniel lowers his leg back down, whistling.

"Damn, Maxy. For hating it so much, you sure do seem to enjoy it."

Shame floods hot through him, accompanied by the feeling of cum inside of him, Daniel's hands warm as they slide up his thighs.

"Good job, babe."

He sniffs, feeling filthy.

"I hate you."

Daniel laughs brightly, twisting his head up to kiss him chastely.

"Sure you do, Maxy. What did you want?"

Max pouts, shivering as he feels cum slide out of him.

"Tennis bracelet."

Daniel smiles, pressing another quick kiss to his mouth.

"Done."

[heyftinally]

Genuinely, there's a fine line between "let's not call people rude shit just because you have issues about their existence" and "there are a variety of words that *could* describe this person, but which one(s) you use are pretty irrelevant because at the end of the day that person is still in need of help".

We all know by now that you don't call disabled people the r slur, because it's a slur. It doesn't describe them, and the only purpose it serves is to cause harm and belittle disabled people.

On the other hand, whether you call someone homeless or unhoused, the end result is the same: you're describing a person who does not have a house/home.

An addict is still an addict, regardless of what they're addicted to. If they're addicted to a substance then yeah, it's substance abuse...via addiction.

There comes a point where we really have to question "is fighting for a change in language going to make any meaningful change in the experience of the person/people the language is describing?" If the answer is no, then changing the language is not the primary thing we should be advocating for.

I support homeless addicts. Those aren't bad words.

you can't be a disabled ally without also supporting homeless people and addicts like it's just not possible

[quirkwizard]

The Heroes Aren't All Wrong

So a while back, I made a post talking about the villains of the series. About how, in spite of the story framing of them as real people that were hurt by the world and had some points in their ideology, that did not make them in the right. I neglected to talk about the other half. The heroes. This is the other half of that coin. Just as there are fans who support the villains, there are people who decry the heroes, and the society which they protect, at every point available. This is something I disagree with. And for context, I'm trying to keep this succinct as possible. Because I almost when into a rant about how Quirks are seen and treated, but that's a whole other post.

Just to get it out of the way, yes, the society of MHA is flawed. The story makes it very clear at several points with many characters. That I can agree with. What I don't agree with is the other extreme. The problem comes from the fact that people overblow the flaws or only see the flaws presented. The world isn't this horrible dystopia that needs to be torn down to nothing. This simply comes down to a lot of bias. We are only getting to focus on the major characters. These characters need to show how the world is now and the problems with it. It's how the story generates conflict and explores the world made. These are indicative of the issues of society, but not the standard of society. Not every kid is going to be hurt by the system like the villains are. I seriously doubt that every kid who got counseling as a kid turned out as bad as Toga. She should still be helped and adjust to her situation, but it's not the standard.

Because when you look at the rest of the cast and the world as a whole, it doesn't seem anywhere near as bad as fans tend to paint it as. Could it be better? Yes, and the series tries to tackle the issues with the world at large. It's just that not everything is as terrible as fans seem to interpret. The greatest flaw of society was the lack of apathy towards each other and the overreliance on heroes. That, more than anything, is the issue pushed from the series. Because a lot of the problems with the villains come from that apathy and putting hero work on such a pedestal. Tomura, especially, is the biggest victim of that. It's why that is one of the biggest beats in the final war. People are now starting to be proactive and help each other in their own way. This isn't a matter of Hori forgetting issues with the world. It's a matter of people taking a single issue that a certain character may face and blowing it out of proportion.

And these kinds of misconceptions extend to the heroes as well. There are fans who tend to see nothing but wrong in what the heroes do, especially as they fight the villains. They're mostly shown to be standard heroes fighting criminals. They aren't the oppressive boot stamping any form of revolutionary. Because most villains aren't revolutionaries. Shoot, I'd argue that most of the main villains aren't even like that. The villains are people who hurt others to get what they want. It doesn't matter what motivates them to hurt others. It's still wrong. And the heroes are the ones who point their lives on the line to stop them. Heroes are shown many times to just be people who fight criminals to save others, trying to do the least amount of harm to the villains and the civilians surrounding them.

Do all of them have altruistic motivations? Of course not. There are even some heroes that are pretty bad people. Yet they aren't all scum like Endeavor or killers like Hawks. Those two are an exception, not the rule. There are far more heroes that are good people, if not downright altruistic. The heroes in concept weren't the problem. The greatest flaw that the heroes had was the lack of nuance and understanding of the people they were fighting. Because they were still people with issues, even if they needed to be stopped, there still should be some attempt to reach out and understand them. And the new generations are fighting to try and change that. Izuku is not trying to stop Tomura because he's trying to undermine the status quo. Izuku is trying to stop Tomura because he's trying to commit mass murder against random people that have nothing to do with his issues.

At the end of the day, I think this comes from a lot of misconceptions about the greater society. That being it's a lot more unfair or evil than the series actually intends you to see it. I think that comes from the fact that, by showing flaws with the world, that tells us that what we are seeing needs to be destroyed. That's not the case. It's why people insisting that heroes should stop existing altogether is so confusing to me. Because that doesn't solve the issue. Heroes aren't a problem with society. They do have problems that need to be fixed, but they aren't an inherent evil. They are ultimately just tools. It's all about how they are used to doing their jobs that determines how things go. There just needs to be a shift on both sides of the spectrum. Both in how the heroes operated as figures, and how society as a whole treated one another as real people with problems.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! I am sorry in advance that this question is not as much about creating Black characters, but to be honest you were the first person I thought to ask about this situation. I totally understand if you would rather not answer since you don't owe me an instruction on what to do, but I'll try at least. This is about racism in fandom, so there will be mentions of that ahead. Also English is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes.

In the fandom I am a part of there is a Black male character in the main cast of characters, and unsurprisingly he is often targeted for his identity. Just recently a person in a shared fandom space (it's a Russian space, to be more specific, so it's already lacking in the Black representation and people are way less educated on racial issues since those aren't as visible in culture here, we almost aren't taught anything about it in schools etc) created a series of cartoonish artworks of the main cast, and the Black character was the only one holding a banana while others had different objects. When I pointed it out and asked directly why, that artist wasn't even shy to admit that yes, it basically was a racist "joke", but they "didn't mean to offend". When I argued basically that what they are saying is bullshit, I got a response that "they have non-Russian friends (I can't be certain but I'm fairly sure that they meant like Middle Eastern since that's the most likely scenario with that wording, not Black) that make jokes like that and don't take offense". At that point I have already reported this to the moderators of said fandom space and didn't continue the arguement, but I wanted to ask your advice if that's okay, how do I respond to the "I have non-white friends that make offensive jokes" arguement?

P.S. Even if you don't answer this ask, which again, I understand since it's not really on theme, I want to thank you for the educaton. Your work is invaluable <3

I mean, tbh, they don't sound like they are worthy of any further conversation. You already approached them with the concern, and they blew you off with an inaccurate "I have Black friends". That person is antiblack racist, they are now aware out loud that they are being racist both on their page and amongst their also antiblack peers, and there's not much else you can do about that except tell your own peers "hey, this person has been overtly racist, and I will not be associating with them or their work". They chose to be racist, so treat them like it. 🤷🏾‍♀️

And if the people around you, knowing what this person is like, still choose to support them, well... Now you know just what they'll tolerate for the sake of entertainment. Unfortunately I can't walk you through that part, but I know I'd rather have a small group of antiracist friends and supporters than a large group of racist ones.

Good job on confronting them about it in the first place 👍🏾

[gazstations]

Fatum signatum, Canis esuriens

CHAPTER TWO - anima mea turbata

ᯓᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER SUMMARY

You try to outrun Johnny, but he latches on. He also finds out that being home doesn't particularly mean peace as the past is surrounding him.

♡ Chapter Warnings: Implied abusive childhood, family issues, Johnny still doesn't know how to take no for an answer

◇ Notes: I love writing dark!Johnny, so much. I love that he just has one slightly off-putting vibe that everyone hates.

○●○ SERIES MASTERLIST ♡ PREV ♡ NEXT

NAVIGATION MASTERLIST

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

YOU FLEW THE ROOST THE VERY NEXT DAY.

It perturbed Johnny, really. Brought out a shimmering heat in the thick of his bloodstream when you pretended he didn’t exist in your world anymore. He always existed in your body, down to the deep rotten core of you. He was a foundation. A structural column that molded you into who you were today.

That date you promised him seemed to have floated away from your brain. It made Johnny pinch his eyebrows together and subtly curl his lip into one of disdain. Had you only agreed to get him off your back? Oh, doe, that wasn't going to work with him.

He was a leech.

He'd just keep siphoning until you were nothing more than a husk. And he really didn't want to scare you. He wanted his sweet little doe docile and sweet. If he could have you on your terms, then he would prefer that. Even if he had to woo you first. Anything for you.

Church was as montonous and mudane as he remembered. He lingered in the very back row closer to the corner and pretended to be surprised when he saw familiar faces blink into existence.

Old Miss Hannigan was still frail and somehow zippy as she paraded down the center aisle with eager footsteps. She wore a dress straight out of the 1800s. Johnny could almost guarantee it still smelled of dust and cedar wood from sitting in the closet a long time.

Then there was Ziggy. Johnny used to volunteer during the Thursday street markets with him. They'd whip out a mean burger or corndog. By the end of the day, Johnny always smelled like barbecue. It was his least favorite day.

He was the first person Johnny lost contact with after he deployed for the first time. Replaced. By the scrawny, anxious youngest son of the Maguire family. What a fucking load of bullshit.

Johnny sunk further into the pew when he saw his parents. The little boy in him cowered in shame still, while the fully grown adult cursed those two people that brought him into this world. It was a plethora of reactions that Johnny didn’t do well with. Instinctively, he wanted to seek absolution from them. Now, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to hold his tongue.

He frowned. His slouched, guarded posture thankfully deterred lollygaggers from sitting anywhere near him. Though, lucky for him, the 4 back rows always remained unattended. it was easy to slip away into the shadows and observe.

Yet, the moment he saw your glowy form enter the church, his mind started working. He watched as you offered a hug to Ziggy's sister, who still lingered by the entrance. His eyes half-lidded as you dipped your fingers into the bowl of holy water and made your sign of the cross. You were a sweet little thing as you started to gravitate towards the front of the church.

You were at the other end of the pew, waiting to navigate around a clustered family. Your hands were folded politely in front of you as you let them finish their conversation. Always the patient doe. Aren't you, bon?

Johnny was sliding down the legnthy bench seat before he could stop himself. You hadn’t noticed him yet, probably not see the danger while you were under the eyes of God. Even though he had already found you again in this very location. He needed you to sharpen your environmental awareness.

“Doe…” he spoke, and he watched you go rigid. Your fright didn't please him as much today. Instead, it made him grimace.

“Johnny?” You hissed quietly when his large hand enclosed on your bicep. You continued smiling, though, so that people didn't start looking too much. “What are you doing here?”

“Told ye, doe. Ah'm a changed lad,” Johnny said cooly. “Dinnae look so surprised. Ye ken ah was comin' again.”

Your eyes analyzed him closely. He at least had the audacity to dress nice for church, and he noticed your eyes unconsciously check him out. It made him preen like a bloody peacock, and he sat up a bit straighter in your gaze.

“Sit with me,” Johnny offered, but it really wasn't up for debate. He was already pulling you into the pew while you were pulling back.

“I sit in the front, Johnny,” you said and he made a “tsk” sound.

“Ah ken. One day in the back isnae going tae kill ye,” Johnny insisted. “Ye can have the folks think yer doin' charity if it helps.”

He watched you blow air out in exasperation. You knew you couldn’t fight him. He would just cling on and leech from your warm blood more. He loved your sweetness. It was easy to get underneath and choke the life out.

“Joh-”

You slid into the pew with a sigh, and he immediately had his arm around your shoulders. He was not shy like you. He wanted to show you off as his girl all the time. He found it best when you were secured against his side.

You started to complain, and Johnny shushed you quickly. “Easy, doe. Dinnae fash. Ah ken ye get cold in here.”

You slouched, by default that meant into him. He chuckled lowly and maneuvered you back towards the end of the pew closest to the corner. He knew people naturally skipped over the back pews, so it would be safer if both of you were further away. He had to make his pretty little doe comfortable, after all.

“Reckon we can ‘ave our date tonight, aye?” Johnny spoke.

“I have plans tonight,” you dismissed, and Johnny frowned.

No, that wasn't good.

“Plans?” He hummed. He looked down at you, and you shielded your gaze. “Doin' what?”

Johnny's plan wasn't to isolate you. That created resentment, and he didn't want you to resent him. That wasn’t fun. He wanted you to crave his touch just as you used to when he had you pinned in the back of his shitty Ford. Your babbles were music to his ears.

Last time you turned sour, the whole tree wilted. He lost contact with you for 7 years. He wasn't going to do that again. Yet, he was an impatient man, and you were resisting his advances. What was he supposed to do? Grin and bear it? He was not a good man. He didn't wait. He took selfishly from the ripest bunch.

“Girl’s night.” You muttered after a moment.

“Aye. Cannae miss a night with the lasses,” Johnny replied. “Ye gonna drink?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

“Can ah give ye a ride then?” Johnny asked.

You turned your head, blinking. You must've believed you had at least one day to yourself. Surely, Johnny wouldn't impede on girl's night. Not technically. He wasn't going to tarnish your fun. But what kind of man would he be if he didn't help you get home safely?

He was just showing you how chivalrous he was. You wouldn't get hurt if he helped you.

“I was just going to Uber,” you said in dismissal.

Johnny shook his head. He turned sideways in the pew and made you look at him. His finger touched the bottom of your chin as he observed you for a moment.

“Jus' wannae make sure my doe is safe,” he replied softly. “Ye dinnae need tae waste money on some ride.”

In another lifetime, those words would be intended to flatter. To charm innocently and prompt a further relationship. For Johnny, they were dripping possession and revealing the not so innocent mindset he had towards you. He simply believed he had the right to you because he deemed it so.

“We may be out pretty late.” You tried to deter, and he just shrugged.

“Tha's fine. Ah stay up,” Johnny said. He wasn't going to let you extend those sweet legs of yours and scramble away. Not anymore.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Okay, fine. You can give me a ride.”

He could practically taste the anxiety on you. He noticed the way your head turned slightly as if trying to spy a good Samaritan to help you. It was adorable, really. You were trying so hard to fool him, to throw him off your scent. But he had a lock jaw. Once the canines sunk in, not even a kick to the head could shake him off.

Johnny was pleased, to say the least. He leaned back into the pew and spread out his legs, his lip curling into a small smirk. “Good girl,” he murmured, and he watched your body tense up with sick satisfaction.

You really had made a mistake humoring the man who had seen you at your most exposed. Who knew just the right way to get that honeyed pleasure to flip in pitch and waver. He remembered the hitch in your breath, the way you babbled so sweetly.

Fuck. He had missed you.

He adjusted his hips with a soft sigh, and you finally looked over at him with an incredulous look. You knew why he was adjusting, and you were obviously revolted.

He leaned down to your ear, “Dinnae fash, doe. Ah willnae try anythin’ under God’s nose.”

You side-eyed him. You were doubtful, he could tell. You knew better than to fall tor his rancid lies, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to trap you by his side. He was a liar, sure. He would bend you over this pew if he had to.

The only reason he didn't was because he wanted you to be compliant. While his core burned, aching for a satiation, he played the long game. He lost you already by being a mutt that was lost in the throes of its rutting. This time, he knew better.

There was nothing sweeter than a doe that slowly succumbed to the gnashing teeth on their own.

The opening song began, and Johnny suddenly felt like a little boy again. But he was a soldier. If he had to sit still for an hour next to you to prove something, he would.

He noted the way you didn’t move his hand when it naturally fell upon the fat of your thigh.

♡◇♡

Getting in discretely was the easy part. Getting out while the God truthers mingled in the front entrance and out in the front lawn proved to be a challenge. It had been years since Johnny had found himself in this orbit, yet he doubted anyone forgot his face.

He was the troublemaker. The teenager who turned his nose up at social etiquette and instead danced to his own tune. He was the one who found the chemical benefits of marijuana at fifteen and got the McLeary boys addicted. The one that acted out in class and spent more time in trouble than he ever did learning.

He was one that disappointed his family when he put pen to paper and recruited himself into the military.

He was the bane of most people’s existence because he was also deeply charming. Got along with most people, could sweet talk and pamper, and was always willing to help out. It was a contradiction most of the time. He knew and acknowledged that one small synapse in his head was misfiring, and he relished in it.

He was brought out of his humbled thoughts when a voice broke over the crowd.

“John MacTavish, wha’ are ye doin, ‘ere?”

Johnny stiffened, hand curling around the meat of your bicep as he turned only his upper body. The sense of accomplishment he had felt while being by your side faded into the chasm while a more dominating presence took hold. A helpless little boy and a retired SAS soldier fought against each other as his ice blue eyes narrowed and there was the smallest bob of his Adam's apple.

“Da…” He said tersely. He had not wished for this interaction today. Naively, he had hoped seeing his parents walking down that center aisle would be the only time.

“Ye got some nerve showing yer face after seven years,” his dad, William, seethed with barely subdued distaste.

“Aye. Ken ah'm like the devil rising in yer eyes,” Johnny quipped back. “Just accompanying my doe. Dinnae fash.”

William's eyes flickered over to you, judgment seeping from every clogged pore on his body. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably as you were affected by the growing tension. Everyone with ears knew of the fallout in the MacTavish family.

“Yer datin’?” William asked you.

You averted your gaze for a moment, and Johnny sensed the protest building on your sweet lips. He immediately frowned, pressing himself into you more. Just like a doting boyfriend would do.

“Tha’s none o’ yer business,” Johnny snapped. “Doe's business with me is ‘er secret.”

William grimaced. Johnny stood up straighter. He had taken down dozens of terrorists and the biggest pieces of shit one could imagine. He had long grown past the days of being the bug beneath his dad's shoes. He knew better now.

He was stronger. Not that scared little boy that begged God for a way out.

“Kick ‘im tae the curb,” William pleaded you. “Ye willnae be happy with ‘im, lass.”

“Thank you for the advice, William,” you said politely. Not one for starting conflict. Are you, Doe?

William seemed appeased by that remark, or he just simply didn't have the energy to ramble more about why John MacTavish was hell on earth to be around. His own father thought he was the scum of the earth. A rotten, no good fruit on a tree.

He would be right. Johnny had a habit of spreading that sickness.

“Guid talk. See ya never. Hopefully.” Johnny said, pinching your arm and guiding you down the steps of the church.

By now, people would know he was back in town. It was obnoxious. Though, he also relished in the fact he caused enough upheaval with his mere presence. People spouted a lot of shit about not caring about him, but they sure did talk about him a lot.

“Bloody bampot.” He muttered once the both of you were far enough.

“Johnny…” you started, but he was already dragging you towards his car.

“C'mon, doe. Ah'm famished.”

You were a subdued creature as he herded you into the passenger's seat. He batted your hands away when they tried to secure your seatbelt on their own. He wasn't in the mood for you acting all independent right now. He was hungry and deflated, even if he would rather die than admit the latter feeling.

His dad always had a way of sucking the life out of him. It's why he left as soon as the military gave him the green light. He didn't particularly enjoy the idea that he'd have to confront some aspect of his upbringing.

He wasn't that dopey eyed twenty year old that finally left for good when he got sent on his first tour, after two years of grinding in training. He wasn't some small little ant in a giant's world anymore. He survived a fucking bullet to the head, for christ's sake.

Johnny climbed into the driver's seat, letting out a soft sigh. The one thing that never changed was his need to eat. It was even better having you join him.

“Bet yer famished, too,” he spoke as he peeled out of the church parking lot. Bloody hell, he hated that place.

“Oh. I suppose. I don't need to go out, I'll just eat something at home,” you deflected. You were tense. It made an annoyance bubble in his core.

“Dinnae fash,” Johnny brushed it off. “Ah love treatin’ ye. Gotta get yer belly full ‘fore ye drink.”

You just slumped on your seat, likely knowing you couldn’t argue. You knew that about everything. You wouldn't be here if you had some form of self-preservation or even respect.

Perfect for him, yet bad for you.

He dropped his hand onto your upper thigh, squeezing it gently.

°•○●○•°

TAGLIST

@callsignpxnguin @sushi-enthusiast @niresenrab @tired-writer04 @shhitskinkytime @babybatreads @armycaratlover

If you would like to be added for future chapters, let me know!

[therobotmonster]

I'm not here to pile on, but there's also some fundamental misunderstandings of the tech, and intellectual property, that need to be addressed.

There's another thing here that feels like a fundamental unfairness. Generative AI is a tool designed to make money for the companies running it and drive down the price professionals can charge for the categories of work that it generates.

This is the first assumption that is fundamentally incorrect.

The services are designed to make money, yes. Well, most of them. OpenAI has no real path to profitability and has always been an investor trap. But they are not designed to drive down the price professionals can pay for the work it generates. That's conspiratorial catastrophizing.

The economics of that simply do not work. Midjourney, which is the most artist-centric one out there (customer service issues notwithstanding), has roughly thirty million users.

There aren't thirty-million would-be art-commissioners out there and there simply aren't enough industry jobs to support MJ at $30 a month. A tool's function is how it is used, and for the vast, vast, VAST majority of users, it isn't Photoshop.

It's a Spirograph, an Etch-a-Sketch, a Thingmaker.

In short: A toy. (which is an entirely valid use).

Among the most common first prompts Midjourney's reported is some variation of "happy dog/cat/other-pet-type-animal playing in the clouds." From there it's mostly whatever neat idea the person wants to visualize in the moment for their own use or to show off to friends.

If OpenAI scrape my online work without my consent and use it to train their models and then a) people who used to pay me instead pay them to generate art in my style or b) clients use the threat of that to pay me less than I would normally earn then they are benefiting from my labour and I am not.

First, you don't own 'your style.' Styles aren't copyrightable, they aren't protectable, and they shouldn't be. There's nothing to prevent a client from looking at what you make, going to Fiverr, and doing the exact same thing. You are more than your style, and that's good, because dollars to donuts a set of Disney lawyers can find thousands of examples of art that they 'own' in a style close enough to anything you can make that will convince a judge.

In fact, no one owns art, not even the art's creators. Copyright isn't ownership of 'the art', it is a limited patent on a specific fixed expression. All art flows from the commons and returns to it, or is supposed to, but Disney's lawyers have spent the better part of a century working to ensure that doesn't happen.

What you own is the reproduction/economic rights to the specific works you create. Your characters, your stories (but not plots), your images, your songs, etc. If the end result doesn't infringe those specific things, it's fair use. It doesn't matter how much inspiration was taken from you if the end result isn't a copy of your work.

And that's also good for the same Disney-lawyer reasons.

Secondly, this isn't 2022, if anyone wants to dupe your style with an LLM all they have to do is drop a single example into a style reference field. Your style can be replicated from some combination of what came before, more or less, it's just a matter of figuring out the prompt that simulates it. Heck, that can often be done by description alone, for stuff that's not remotely in the dataset.

Third, the public domain nature of machine-generated work means that any commercial use of AI requires heavy transformative action by human artists. This, combined with how corporate-workflow-unfriendly the gatchapon-nature of the generative AI is makes it less effective for the big corporate players than anticipated.

I made the thing. They used my years of work and learning to make money - money they would not earn without my work - and only I lose out as a consequence. That still feels kinda thefty to me.

The skills you developed, like the ones I have, and that all other artists have, did not come from nowhere. We all stand on the shoulders of those that came before, and ex-nihlo creativity is, near as I can tell after 48 years on this planet, if not a myth than a once in an epoch type situation.

If learning, copying, and inspiration are 'theft' then we are all the goddamn Beagle Boys.

The major part that's being overlooked is that the advantage AI gives does not, in fact, weight to the corporate side. Which is why all the worst corporate goons have been using the Copyright Alliance to lobby for regulatory capture of the tech on copyright grounds, and copyrighting styles if they can get away with it.

Disney has more than enough data 'they own' to make generative AIs for their own internal use, and are doing that as we speak. So does every major entertainment corp. Adobe already has their 'ethical' AI setup complete (ah, the ethics of being able to gain a secondary use out of work they'd already paid artists cents on the dollar by merit of being a monopoly with massive money behind them, and the ethics of sneaking AI-scraping agreements into their unnecessarily-cloud-based system so they have access to works that aren't public-facing published works subject to fair use).

Any one of them can replace any given member of their creative staff with a photoshop monkey and an AI, sure. But any one of those fired creatives can use that exact same technology to cook up their own in-house competition. And the fired worker is the one with all the ideas.

No matter how big their AI teams are, the big boys all have production bottlenecks. They aren't going to substantially up the amount of stuff they're making, just make the stuff they're already doing cheaper. A large production house saves some money with AI, but their quality is likely to drop in the process, and certainly won't improve.

But the smaller creator using AI as a force multiplier gains access to the ability to produce vastly larger and more ambitious projects at a higher level of creativity, freedom and polish.

Computer-assisted animation savaged the cartoon production environment. Vector-puppet animation, digital color, CG, all of them wiped out countless hand-animation jobs, cel painters, cel photographers, etc.

But the advent of those tools also made it so that one or two man teams could suddenly do larger projects without being bankrupted and could get them out to a larger audience. We lost a lot of corporate animation jobs, but a whole new field of indie animation happened.

This is the situation with AI, we're just in the "OMG it's a witch!" phase and the "Shrink wrap and lens flares" phase simultaneously.

As to it feeling 'thefty'. Every individual image in a large dataset takes up an average of four bytes. You and I have access to the same open source AI programs everyone else does, and the same prosumer services.

I figure I've contributed a couple of thousand works to the searchable web during my time, at 4b each, I say I could fairly represent my contribution to any given dataset with this 9kb image of me in a Matt Trakker helmet I made (which would also be in that dataset).

A shitty JPG's worth of statistic data is, to me, a relatively minor buy-in for access to the amalgamated and modeled aesthetic data of the entire species.

My share of whatever profit these companies 'make off me' is measured in slivers of a cent, whereas what they actually makes up the bulk of the dataset is the stuff people actually care about, all the pop culture, the comics and the movies and the cartoons and the paparazzi photos, the photoshoots and the pop music and the commercials masquerading as all of them.

The idea that I, or any other small artist, is being robbed because a couple of for-profit enterprises refined some handy tools for accessing the artistic zeitgeist of the modern world seems silly to me in context of what I gain access to by working AI into my workflow.

I also can't really get mad about a machine being trained on my work when I always try to tell people who are interested how to do what I do. I don't believe in trade secrets or that I'm in competition with other artists. I don't think its a zero-sum game.

I know that every single person who commissioned something from me could have gone to someone else, probably someone better than me, instead, for the same price or maybe less. They didn't come to me because I wasn't the only game in town for 3d printed transformers parts, illustrations, d20 creatures, or whatever hustle was feeding me at the time. They came to me because they liked my stuff, and wanted to support me, and when they came back its because I tried to give them a good experience and, on that occasion, succeeded.

The idea that you're just your style and your price range is just not true. No one ever got the job because the bosses couldn't find someone else who was 'close enough' to their style. There's always a poor man's you, and the hypothetical clients lost to an LLM, if they existed at all, would likely be going to your non-union fiverr counterpart.

And the skills I have, or that you have? Those still exist. They still give you an edge over the competition, if that's how you want to look at it, as a total lay-newbie with no art background is, no matter the toolset, going to be less effective than someone with those same tools and that artistic training.

Sorry for the long-ass post, but I've had a lot of this banging around in my noodle for awhile.

What do you mean by "in-group signalling" in that post?

I'm referring to the way a lot of people seem to treat "unconditional hatred for Generative AI" as a signifier by which someone reaffirms their belonging or allegiance to the category of Artist (imagined as a special category of people wholly separate from the category of Non-Artist) based on the conception that the only reason why someone might not hate GenAI (or might hate it but think some criticisms of it are unprincipled) is because they 1) aren't an Artist themselves, and thus 2) they either don't understand what being an Artist is like or they categorically hate and oppose Artists.

To name a concrete example:

Just a couple weeks ago I got an anon message pretty much along the lines of "I get it, you don't have a creative bone in your body and have to pretend that art theft is fine because you're incapable of creating art yourself" (despite pretty clear evidence of me being an Artist™, such as the fact that at the moment that anon was sent to me, you could scroll down like two posts on my blog and find me showing off how some of my music was featured in a doom metal compilation album).

This anon was sent in response to me saying that, while I have problems with the GenAI industry, I think "it's art theft" is not one of them because (by virtue of being a copyright abolitionist) I think describing any situation where a copy of something is made without affecting the original as "theft" is patently ridiculous. Like, that's a pretty clear example of how performing enough unconditional hatred of AI art is treated as a signifier of belonging to the Artist™ in-group, and failure to perform it is treated as a sign that you can only possibly be a ignorant and/or malicious Non-Artist.

[yesterdayiwrote]

Why do you hate Carmen so much? It just seems like you’re always so negative about her and I don’t understand what she’s done to warrant it?

Okay, so firstly, I don't hate her because I don't know her, but I hate what she represents and I think as the years have gone on some of her social media behaviour and the way she presents herself is incredibly disappointing and very emblematic of the dishonesty of influencer culture in general. I'll put the rest under the cut because I know some people don't like getting in to it and this might become a deep dive...

I think my main issue is I just find her Instagram persona incredibly disingenuous. She's tried/trying to carve a niche for herself as a "finance girl" and yet the reality just doesn't quite... add up. She has a degree in finance and business, she worked in finance jobs, I don't doubt she has an interest in finance, but she only has 18 months work experience and so the way she's started circling the public speaking circuit as some "women in finance" expert gives similar vibes to Mohammed Ben Sulayem reminding everyone how he's definitely a racing driver every two minutes.

I think most people know about the book scam, and I think she got off relatively lightly in terms of criticism for that, but on top of that I think the contents of the book raised more questions than it answered. She spoke about her dad being made bankrupt then a few weeks later did an interview proclaiming her parents brought her and her siblings Tommy hilfiger school coats every year. She said she wanted to make financial information more accessible to women, but she rarely references finance on her insta, unless she's profiting off of it in some way, or it's stuff you have to pay to access. She rarely offers free or accessible resources. Then of course the one I think most people have picked up on is that she claimed to want to encourage women to gain financial independence from men, yet she quit her career and her income now largely relies on her relationship with George and so there's a massive contradiction in there. She even flip-flops herself on whether she believes she's qualified to give advice or not.

Her social media output just strikes me as incredibly vapid and at times ill thought out and at the very least out of touch. There's some very questionable health information, some dodgy diet tips, a lot of sus names being recommended, a complete glut of adverts, often undisclosed.

I just think her and George have crossed into a bit of a "corporate couple" space recently as well and I just find it cringey. It all feels very fake and posed and effort-full and all contradicts George's claim that they're not chasing attention. I have multiple questions about why she's suddenly doing sponsored content for an increasing number of Mercedes sponsors...

And I get this all sounds nitpicky, and I get that none of it matters, AND that they're all guilty of doing similar. I get there's massive intricacies to influencer culture, and I probably am being unfair in some places. It's not all cut and dry and there's nuance to all these things, but I think ultimately my feeling is just that a lot of the main wag admirers are young girls who perhaps don't realise that what they're seeing isn't attainable or realistic. They see it online and they think having a career in finance means getting to travel the world and work in hotels on your own schedule. That you can work and swan around Monaco hanging out on yachts and drinking coffee and it sets them up to have an unrealistic idea of adulthood... which later down the line contributes to them feeling inferior. The kids aren't alright because social media lets them think they've failed for not achieving the unachievable. God I'm in my thirties and even I get caught up by it still?

No, she's not solely responsible for that, but she's contributing to the problem and as I said the other day in an ask game, I think all wags deserve more scrutiny for how they conduct themselves online. She is just the one that I come into contact with more because I follow George. I feel sorry for her to some extent because I think she's just got caught up in the pressure of trying to be something specific in her influencing exploits and in the process has kind of forgotten to just be... herself? She's just... not my type of person?u

[jewish-jonathansims]

I strongly believe that the fan culture surrounding artists nowadays is wild, I have seen so many people acting like not liking every single song by an artist is a crime or something when it's completely normal. I am not going to make myself listen to songs I don't like because I want to support the artist.

That dose not mean that I am going to say that I miss the old them, because that's rude and as an artist (not a musician but still) I 100% understand that your art grows with you but that doesn't mean I need to love this new direction.

An album can be not my taste and that doesn't make it bad but it also doesn't take away from my enjoyment or love for their old stuff.

Something I can hate the direction an artist is taking, and sometimes I just think their new stuff are just weaker and that's okay.

I don't like anything zac brown band made after 2016, but I still really love their old albums and they are very nostalgic for me (I do not agree with a lot of the opinions stated by some people in the bend)

I still believe that 16/04/16 is cavetown best album and I think his last few albums are just okay

I don't like Melanie Martinez re-brend

I still like a lot of their old stuff and me not liking their newer stuff doesn't take away from that

[uncanny-tranny]

Social transition being seen (by some) as this super easy thing that isn't as hard as real transitioning (medical) is bullshit. Be critical of the idea that there are some trans people who just "have it easy" because they are trans or because they are trans in ways you may not be.

Social transition is just as difficult, hard, and rewarding as medical transition. Maybe it is not as hard for some, sure, but that is not the same as thinking that social transition is inherently easier or lesser. If you're socially transitioning, your voice still matters.

[wei-meddling-wuxian]

I didn't expect a response to my tags - I just left them there on a whim for me to get back to and ponder (hence the lotus pods tag for myself) so this response is going to be scattered. Some of it is based on the minimal experience I have with danmei, my lot of experience with fantasy (and my own upbringing in an Indian/asian household)

I don't expect JFM "being better" to fix the whole problem - YZY is still there causing her own problems - going back to "attempt the impossible" the importance is for JFM to still try, and try visibly (I don't know about you but if my mom yelled at my dad for not caring enough about me and he did nothing to actually refute it or didn't refute it convincingly or at least didn't come to talk to me about it after, I'd be pretty hurt. sure there's no point in arguing with YZY who will continue to yell about it but either take her out of the room so you don't argue in front of the kids or fight back to show you care in anyway isn't good enough) - if he fought back off screen or sat down with JC, there's no evidence of it that I've seen (and considering how jc keeps revisiting the past, I would expect to see something)

I also don't think JFM is a bad guy, just flawed, - he's arguably the best dad, consider WRH and JGS spoil their kids while not raising them, JGS neglecting and abusing his illegitimate children and QHJ just didn't raise his kids at all. I also think he loves JC as his son, he just didn't like him as a person and he made that very clear to the point JC and people outside of the sect realized it too. And yes its a character flaw and make him more real that he's strong in his conviction but also refuses to intervene but my point is that there are somethings worth breaking the mold for and your child should be one of them

I do think at least 70% of jfm and jc's relationship issues is just finding the right wavelength to settle on - like the conversation at wwx's bed with jfm and jc after wwx is rescued from the cave - jc was very insensitive with what he said but his tone and behaviour (especially after we see that he drastically shortened the journey back to get aid, travelled tirelessly and carried wwx on his back) shows that he was worried about jc (his priorities throughout the series is clearly family > sect > everything else) show something different - which wwx can see but jfm can't - and clearly jfm was right to point out that jc's words were insensitive and wrong but there's something called framing - and that comes with knowing someone (the way I would say something to my mom is very different than how I would talk to a friend or my boss). JC has just come from a very tense and exhaustive situation (to be fair, I tend to give jc more grace because 90% of the situations he's in are high stress and exhaustive) and he's panicked and worried and the praise wwx's receiving for killing a mythological creature doesn't negate the risk or the injuries or the danger wwx is in and that should be called out too but isn't (or isn't to the degree that it should be for jc) . also one thing that grates my gear with parents and jfm too, is the belief that you can't teach them or nurture them - this interaction feels like jfm believes jc has "bad traits" too close to yzy and there for are innate flaws that can't be addressed and I just don't believe parents should be allowed to settle for this . adding this miscommunication + jc feeling like he doesn't get support or attention from jfm (the dogs getting taken away it seems without any meaningful convo, the only handful hugs) and you don't get a really good picture (again there are biases here but there's some basis for this too)

Arguing about CSSR Rumors - one thing mdzs makes very clear is that rumors matter, even if they aren't true but aren't fully lies either - wwx did create a heretical form of cultivation that is detrimental to the psyche of a person and he did kill a shit ton of people in Nightless City and he did house Wens in the burial mounds - contexts tell us his motives weren't malicious but was done in desperation but doesn't erase the people that died and the consequences of his actions --- kind of off tangent but asoiaf has a similar scenario where catelyn stark has to raise her kids along side her husband's bastard child - she was cold to him because he was a threat to her kids inheritance (precedent exists in universe re; blackfyre rebellion) but she didn't abuse him or hurt him in anyway (just didn't interact with him) - so in a patriarchal society, jfm's actions and behaviour has a lot of weight and while yzy is toxic in her own right, most women are aware of their station and what it means and if she truly saw WWX as a threat to her children (and it happens canonically - jgy got to lead llj by his intelligence but also blood claim through the paternal side) and not good to have close to them and hated those rumors, the least that JFM could have done was publicly affirm who WWXs parents are and deny any allegations - again it might not have fixed things but at least we can see he tried

taking into account yzy's reaction to wwx would be another thing - jfm rooming wwx (a servant's son) with jc (sect heir) probably pushed the situation into the "too late to do anything about it category" but still, at least get them out of there | kind of tying into the head disciple thing (and I do get this could have been done to position him to be the right hand of the sect leader and also give him a place to belong in ymj) , I didn't expect that jc would be head disciple instead, in my head it was another shixiong - with respect to the duties of a head disciple, since they're still kids, I put it at camp councilor with bit extra and as someone who was one while I was a teenager, yea you need to be engaging and fun and creative but you also need to be organized, patient and establish the rules early on and the latter half of these traits are more important - i think WWX is very much a trendsetter but doesn't really have the mindset or traits of an effective leader in the longterm; I brought up some sort of talisman station as an idea, I don't think he should be solely responsible for it either - basically some way to get out his creative juices and let him belong in another way in a way that won't so easily put him in comparison with jc who is the same age as him, is the sect heir and is "falling behind" because he can't keep up with a once-in-a-lifetime genius wwx- his blatant favoritism of wwx is making things worse - as for yzy taking it out on disciples, jfm is the sect leader, his word is essentially, if she's able to do all this, it's with him not actively stopping it. and normally i would be against using power like this but when it comes to children who can't protect themselves? you do what you have to do

I personally don't only look at just the text and take it at face value - at least the way I read, it requires some extrapolation to speculate and grow theories and its just more fun to discuss so sure we don't have enough information for a full picture but there's enough to at least create an image of some sort - that includes politics, sexism, racism, classism and more - so yea I think yzy is the worse parent but I also want to take into account her role as a woman, female cultivator and a mother. which adds layers - yzy is an abusive parent but context is important, just like it was for wwx (as for JGS pulling on JC's strings - we are told that JC is going into this meeting super tired, is stressed out by being a sect leader so young with the right hand he was promised and cared for skimping of his duties - he's not really in the mental state to decode an adult sect leader who is skilled at manipulation

i do think the jfm hate goes over the top and there isn't enough calling out yzy on her abusive behavior but I also think a part of it is the difference - yzy is overtly and clearly abusive, jfm isn't abusive but the way he goes about things and the favoritism and resulting comparisons stings in a different way that I relate to as an Indian kid with a very impressive older brother and a very impressive friend (both of whom I love to peaces but coming to terms with myself did impact my side of my relationship with both of them (not to the degree it did these characters tho)) - a little bit of a side tangent with favoritism and it's political impact is shown when wwx punches jzx in the face for acting lackadaisical towards jyl but also points out how its widely known that jfm favors wwx over jc who is the sect heir and then we have the following scene where jc states that he was close to punching jzx as well and wwx comments that if he did, at least jfm wouldn't come (this entire scene shows how other sects are perceiving jfm's favoritism and how, probably through rumors, it's impacting their dynamic) - so if someone inside the sect (wwx), outside the sect in their cohort (jzx) and someone outside the sect from a different generation (jgs) call out this dynamic, then its clearly more longstanding than a few jabs here and there and yzy's explosive tantrums.

Overall, I do think JFM is a good person, it's the "is he a good parent?" debate that's more grey (and if the bar is yzy, then yea he's fine but is that where we're keeping the bar?)

to each their own 🤷‍♀️

The reason I keep banging the Jiang Fengmian drum so hard is not that he did nothing wrong--he's definitely in contention for best parenting in this book but that bar is in the ground--but because most of the takes I see about him are so extremely bad.

If you want to slag him off for trying to make choices that would hurt no one, and winding up properly protecting no one as a result, that's valid! That's an interesting and text-based critique, which opens into his parallels with Lan Xichen!

If you want to blame him for being weirdly over-invested in Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng being bffs, that's fair, that definitely contributed to the weirdness between them. If you want to say he was a poor communicator, that he fundamentally misunderstood his son, that he failed to be emotionally available in a way his kids could get much use out of, even that he should have figured out a way to stop Yu Ziyuan from creating such a hostile environment, all of that is fair game!

If you want to tackle how the worst thing he did to his kids was die I am so interested in how Wei Wuxian went on to abandon A-Yuan by going to his death, and how that might be tied to how his primary adult role model tied him to a boat and went off to a fight he knew he was going to lose.

After his parents had already left him like that once before, presumably less intentionally.

But no, instead I keep seeing that Jiang Fengmian didn't care. That he never expressed affection. That he actively participated in Yu Ziyuan's fucky game of forcing proxy conflict onto the boys instead of constantly trying (and failing) to shut it down, or that he ignored her bad behavior because it didn't affect him, or that he fought with her constantly, or that he was too much of an unmanly coward to stand up to her when she wanted something.

All of which are directly in contradiction to every scene he's in, and several of which manage to invert or erase the actual conflicts between him and his wife that were the source of all that tension.

And which are really interesting, because some of the most intractable elements are ideological--Yu Ziyuan is fundamentally a conservative and Jiang Fengmian seems to want to be an egalitarian, which ofc matched poorly with his hereditary authority as patriarch of a large sect.

The fact that the bit where we get to actually see him failing to parent Jiang Cheng consists of him gently and firmly trying to correct Jiang Cheng's ethics when what was actually needed in that moment was reassurance for the well-founded insecurities that were causing him to be a little bitch, only for Yu Ziyuan to charge in and make everything fifty times worse, is so much more interesting than literally any version of this family dynamic I have seen in fic. It's to the point I'm relieved when writers kill Jiang Fengmian off, because it means they probably won't feel the need to character-assassinate him too badly.

The number of people I've seen come right out and say some variation of 'men can't be abused' is killing me here. No, Yu Ziyuan wanting to hurt her husband does not constitute sufficient proof that he abused her first and deserved it! That's not how anything works!

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

tbh i think that even unwinnable fights should be winnable. some of the BEST fights i've ever run as a dm were ones i built kill the players (in a fun way. I had some cutscenes prepped so even the loss would be a different flavour of win)- but then they were clever bastards and managed to either win the fights or pull themselves out of trouble. I think it's perfectly fine to plan for a fight that players aren't supposed to win, but you need to let them. if they can't win, they can't lose, and the meaning of that encounter is diminished. do that too many times, and they stop trusting you to give them roleplay prompts and start expecting to sit there waiting while you drive the story for them.

but if they can win... if there is always the chance to win, no matter how impossible the odds, then they ALWAYS have hope. they always get invested. they feel the big emotions of success or the big emotions of failure, and you fucking Win as a dm/roleplay prompter/lead bastard.

[wardensantoineandevka]

I see there's posts floating around directly and blatantly arguing against mine (same wording) by completely misunderstanding what I said. I'm fucking BACK, babey. Should've bought some hay-scented fragrance while I was at Sephora today, because I am once again your strawman!

[pubbee]

I really don't think "y'all couldn't even handle Vivienne and Sera" is really a good excuse to have exclusively agreeable characters

[britneyshakespeare]

Had the extremely upsetting experience of a mutual of like 6 years going off on me for occasionally making posts about supporting Harris because apparently that makes me a g n cide denier who refuses to learn and grow, with all of my views just being assumed not even from what I've told them I believe or what I've posted before, but just because I DON'T post particularly the kind of things they THINK I should be. When I pointed out how much they were just completely assuming about stuff I'd never talked to them about, I was told it doesn't matter what I do in real life or "care" about if I simply disagree with their conclusion and vote for her anyway. Like they were absolutely not sorry for the level of maliciousness they not just assumed of my character, but for some reason thought appropriate to bring directly to me before unfollowing me. No apology whatsoever for how discomforting or upsetting that might be and certainly no acknowledgment that I could disagree with them and still be a good person. I just got another even longer rant about how they fundamentally can't fuck with me because of this one thing, no matter WHAT else I do in my real life (which I pointed out that they do not know), and how I'm directly supporting fascism.

Like seriously what is it about Tumblr that makes people think they know someone based off of occasional posts? There were just such DEEP assumptions they were making of me and going off of very little or absolutely nothing. Around the time I first became mutuals with that person I used to express my personality and beliefs and talk about what was going on in my life a lot more openly, but I've significantly scaled back on doing that in many ways for many reasons. One of my major ones is privacy and the way I've had strangers outside my followers and following circles just find random things I say and dogpile me for it. I was fundamentally changed after some T Fs did that to me like 3 years ago. I also just didn't have many conversations w that person anymore (I message people in general on here like 10x less than I did circa 2018-2019, which I'm somewhat sorry about!). My point is to say I think this person felt comfortable assuming that they knew me, especially who I am in 2024 at the age of 25, much better than they actually did.

One of the specific things they accused me of was being afraid of learning and growing (because I don't perform social media activism on here like they think I should). Like AFRAID to take criticism. When again I've never received criticism from them or had to respond to any criticism on here before as pertaining to my views on... well, absolutely any of the issues they accused me of not caring about. They essentially treated it as if the only thing in the world I cared about was the US election and characterized me as the most out-of-touch liberal they could possibly imagine, because I'm not "pushing" Kamala Harris to be better (Oh?? Should I do that on here?? Does she read my blog??).

And most hypocritically what they said was that I only *sometimes* *vaguely* post pro-Harris things (I often post like 5 or fewer things in a day though?). But here's the kicker. "Because I know I'll get shit for it. And rightfully so."

Really????? Not a single person, anon or not, in my messages or in a tagged post or anything, has ever given me shit before for saying who I'm voting for. I'm actually NOT afraid of "getting shit" for that opinion, I just don't start fights with people who are anti-voting. And why should I??? I genuinely don't believe in trying to change the minds of strangers on the internet about that sort of thing. I'm just not confrontational about it; that is so not the same thing as being "afraid of getting shit." I'm not posting ENOUGH about my support for Harris, therefore I'm afraid. But therefore they can also make all these assumptions about me being their strawman for an ignorant Harris supporter.

I'm afraid of getting shit but I still post anyway? But if I weren't afraid of getting shit I'd be posting a lot more?? This is ALL based on their assumptions of what my blog *should* look like, based on what I really and truly believe. My level of posting every now and then is an accurate gauge of my feelings on complex, sensitive, global issues. Because I'm voting for the Democratic presidential candidate and I'm ok sharing pretty much just that little glimpse of myself.

I really don't think that person knows just how inappropriate and insulting that is to just say all of that to me. Like they really know what's going on in my head. Their first message began and ended with like "I'm sorry I love you I just can't take it anymore" but they clearly weren't sorry enough to try and be more respectful to me, and they didn't love me enough not to default to extremely ungenerous assumptions and attacking me based off of those instead of any actual words I've said that they take issue with.

Online radicalization is real and it's not necessarily bad because your political views can start to fall well out of the contemporary Overton window. The way you find it appropriate to treat people whose views, however common, seem to fundamentally misalign with yours... that does matter. You can't just assume the worst of everyone and then act on that in how you approach them as individuals. And then be shocked that you don't stay friends with them. You can't be confrontational with someone about an issue you've never had an honest conversation about, and then expect them to take your bad faith in them as reasonable well-meaning criticism.

I'm afraid of criticism??? I'm afraid of criticism. No I'm not. This person and I have never had an issue before where they criticized me and I got harshly defensive. It was ALL projection. The entire tone of their messages was as if all their anti-voting posts recently were somehow in communication with the occasional go-vote-for-Harris posts that I make. That's not a conversation. I don't post for your satisfaction. I don't post in "response" to my mutuals I disagree with. I just post what's on my mind, sometimes, about some things. I really again can't stress enough how baffled I am by this