#which as you may know i hate writing

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[altschmerzes]

seen one too many snide posts about this in the last week or so but did you know that if you don't enjoy scenes in smut establishing consent or checking in then you simply don't have to read them and you don't have to go online and whine about how they're Consent Posturing and Purity Culture and Sanitizing Everything and God Just Kill Me Now. like you can have a preference without making it into a three act morality play, which is ironically what you are accusing other people of doing.

the same goes for like, detailed content warnings on fics. or content warnings at all. you can just skip those. they're not a sign of Purity Culture Gone Too Far or Those Damn Puriteens or whatever. you can dislike things without being an asshole about them or implying they're Taking Away What's Good And Correct About Fic Or Creativity.

[thefrogdalorian]

I think on this fine Saturday afternoon it's a good opportunity to take a breather and remember that there are really no ethical paparazzi pictures. Every single one is inherently exploitative.

Just because photos were taken on a movie set, when someone is 'working,' does not make the practice any less invasive and creepy. Imagine just going about your day, doing your job and having some weirdo snapping pictures of you to sell without your consent for others to endlessly repost online.

There are thousands of pictures of your favourite actor online already. Plenty taken with his knowledge and consent. I'd really like to see more of them on my dash, rather than the creeper shots.

And don't get me started how disseminating these pictures directly leads to people going to said sets. What starts off as admiring how good someone looks has real world implications.

No, hanging around a movie set and disrupting people doing their jobs is not harmless fun or a way to show your appreciation.

If you hang around a movie set, you are a stalker.

Don't tell me that it's okay to take your online admiration for someone offline. You may admire him but he does not, and will never, personally know you. He will never be your friend/boyfriend/daddy. He is a stranger.

The only way meeting your favourite actor is going to happen is at a convention or maaaaaybe a movie premiere if you're incredibly fortunate. You know, places they appear specifically to meet fans (or not in the case of premieres, where the purpose is to promote a movie. Which is also completely understandable if actors don't stop. You are not owed an interaction).

Of course, you cannot help it if you randomly run into someone you admire in the wild. Even then, consider that they probably won't be all too thrilled to be approached in public by a complete stranger. It's up to you to gauge the situation, but remember there is a person at the heart of all of this.

Boundaries and respect are a kindness which deserves to be extended to each and every human being regardless of their looks/talent/fame/wealth.

Fandoms blur those lines a little too often for my liking and I think just scrutinising what you're interacting with, or what behaviour you could be possibly falling down that slippery slope towards is nice to do every once in a while.

I mean no malice with this post and it is not directed at anyone in particular. It's something I cannot help but feel strongly about because I've seen this destructive cycle time and again in fandoms over the years. It's not healthy and it makes us all a little bit more disconnected from our humanity for it...

[frogeyedape]

I am so unbelievably pissed off. FUCK HOAs

Oh, my trash/recycling bin can't be visible except on pickup day? Ok whatever fine I hate you but I can deal with this

Weekly inspections?????? FU FU FU FU FU

SECOND NOTICE ALSO WE'RE CHARGING YOU MONEY TO SEND YOU CERTIFIED MAIL OF THIS TOTALLY LEGIT TOTALLY SECOND NOTICE OF WHAT IS ACTUALLY A VIOLATION cue me: checks notes. Hmm. My recycling bin was. on the curb. on recycling pickup day. You know. The day it has to be out. The day it is motherfucking ALLOWED TO BE FUCKING OUT AND VISIBLE.

so. 1) not a violation

I have sent them the trash AND recycling pickup schedules, which are DIFFERENT, btw

I have disputed the fact of the violation

I have disputed the linking of this "violation" to a previous violation MONTHS AGO--their "first notice" in this case was a "Courtesy Notice" LITERALLY 5 MONTHS AGO and they've done so many inspections since then and my bin CLEARLY WASN'T OUT IN THOSE INTERVENING MONTHS so WTMFH

So I am posting like a crazy person here instead of sending the absolutely deranged email I almost sent (I did send a slightly less deranged version with the disputes, and requesting a hearing)

OMG. It has been. Less than one hour since I learned this fun fun news. My bin was out YESTERDAY, y'all. YESTERDAY. I am going to blow a gasket

[fallloverfic]

I love singNsong again reminding people in Side Story that Dokja wanted other people to read TWSA (he wrote reviews and comments! It was his first wish), and he only stopped bothering because people harassed him for it. He didn't gate-keep the story. When he's avoiding talking to Sangah about it at the beginning of ORV, it's because he knows what happens when he tells people about the story, not because he's gate-keeping it from her. He notes he's not proud of his hobby (likely because he's been bullied all through his life, including for reading the thing he loves): he finds it embarrassing to talk about, and better respects her studying Spanish in her free time (learning another language is a generally accepted thing in society). He assumes she won't care or will look at him funny (or worse) for when she learns about the novel he's into.

Basically anyone writing "let's gatekeep ORV" posts because of the anime announcement or because they dislike the manhwa or some other weirdness, y'all are the villains in the scenario.

The literal climax of the story is about sharing ORV with as many people as possible. What story were y'all reading?

[lemongogo]

why do i love the conflict more than anything else . the misery . the incompatibility that spreads like oil slick . wanting so desperately for resolution that never comes . hmmm

[right-there-ride-on]

Gyjo in the fandom

cw: light discussion of ableism

Gyjo… what am I thinking about gyjo…

I like them. I like them a lot, actually. They have paralleled narrative arcs, they complement each other nicely, the romantic subtext is incredibly obvious to the point that even the most homophobic fan you know will admit they understand why people ship it… so why do I also have a problem with it?

There’s a lot of good fanart. Hell, I’ve reblogged plenty. Maybe it’s just something that’s more pronounced in fic.

I’m trying to word this correctly. My issue with gyjo has nothing to do with the text itself. I think my problem is just how people portray it in the fandom.

Maybe it’s because it’s so popular, or maybe it’s the sheer prominence of applying ‘Character A’ and ‘Character B’ dynamics without considerable regard for the characters involved, but I feel gyjo is very prone to flanderization. I believe the intersection with how ableist people are toward Johnny (intentionally or not, subtly or not) and the old tropes these two get shoved into makes it so I have trouble enjoying fics in the fandom.

I’m not saying it’s bad to enjoy certain tropes. I’m not saying headcanons are bad either. What I am saying is that writing is hard, but if you’re going to write fanfiction please have consideration for the characters you’re writing. The arcs of these two are complex and multilayered, which is why I think they have such staying power, but I also think they also provide a good opportunity for us as writers and artists to examine our biases when it comes to the portrayal of certain groups, personality types, mental illnesses, queerness, disability, etc. and maybe come out better people for it.

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe love triangles work better in classic books because, well first off, because sex isn't really mentioned. Most people's complaint about YA love triangles is that it devolves into "I can't decide which one is hotter." Physical attraction is an element of romance in classic literature, but it's rarely the only one, and you're not going to have the same kind of in-depth descriptions of how standing near a guy causes heat or tingling sensations or whatever. Physical attraction in classic literature is more about what draws someone to another person, while the YA approach is more often about the feelings the other person causes within you, which makes the YA approach feel much more self-centered.

But I also think the different approaches to courtship may be a factor. The other big reason people hate YA love triangles is because the girl is "stringing along" two guys and "not making up her mind." This seems to be tied to assumptions of dating culture--even in the exploration stage when a girl isn't thinking about lifelong commitments, she needs to be in an exclusive relationship, otherwise she's being emotionally unfaithful. (And if she's kissing two separate boys, she's straight-up cheating).

In a lot of classic literature, the relationship only becomes exclusive during the engagement. Before that, the woman is just living her life, meeting men who could be romantic options, but not necessarily pursuing any individual one. She does have to be careful so guys don't interpret her behaviors as romantic interest, because it doesn't take much to be seen as flirtatious and "drawing men in". But she can still be around multiple men and getting to know them without it necessarily feeling like she's "stringing them along". (And she's not likely to be kissing these guys the way a modern YA heroine would). This gives her more opportunity to slowly get to know these guys without being pressured to choose just one at this early stage.

[alexjcrowley]

The Hobbit or Bilbo Baggins's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Not At All Fun Steppe Vacation

[soap-is-an-artist]

Hooray... it's 7 in the morning and I stayed up all night listening to the imperium... I feel so happy and satisfied with my life choices...

I am feeling very much not cowabunga, dude

[SEVERE rambling in tags]

[unus-nauta-2407]

ohohoho *rubs hands together* this is gonna be good

"You cannot save me."

“That was unfair of you.” “All is fair in love and war, brother.” “Well, which one is it this time?” “I’ll let you decide.”

"Don't fall asleep again."

“Who the kark do you think I’m doing all this for?!”

“Kriff,” he hisses, “Kriff.”

"Wolffe, get your shebs here this instant."

For an onslaught of reasons, his heart screams within him.

“You’ll tell me what I want to know, clone.”

At last, he finds peace.

“I will not stand by and watch our brothers fall this way.”

“Just try and kriffing finish that sentence. You’ll lose that entire jaw for good.”

“You can take off your helmet, you know.”

“Do you really think leaving is going to solve anything?”

eesh all angsty

anyways, have fun and you're always welcome to mix and mash 'em up or tear 'em apartor whatever <3

Did you know. That I spent literally all day writing this

I think this wins the award for the longest and most involved fic I've ever written. Also probably the darkest. Also probably the most graphic (I mean it's not bad but like. I mostly write character studies you know? This is one of my first fics with an actual, uh. Plot)

The other deal is that this is HFSW but I didn't have it in me to do everything I just mentioned and also write it in the more archaic style that I write most of HFSW in, but since you're probably the only person who's gonna end up reading this (besides maybe Evie. oh and also @majorproblems77 cause Major I know you wanted to know what I was doing) I don't think it matters for now, and if I ever do publish this as an actual work I'll go in and edit it when I have more spoons

Happy New Year!

His back aches. So much.

He... doesn't remember much of the past few hours. Everything was hot and loud and painful and... red? But that's as much as he can gather. The only reason he's awake at all is because someone's calloused hands were trying to be gentle while massaging something creamy and cool into whatever's making his back scream.

"Nngh." (His voice is slow and slurred from sleep and the fact that he can barely raise his head from its pillow.)

"Oh, kriff. Sorry, vod, did I wake you?"

He doesn't open his eyes, but judging from the gravel and melancholy folded into the syllables, the voice and hands belong to his Captain. 

"'S fine. Hurts. Where'm I?"

Rex is too quiet for two seconds too long.

"Cap'n. W'happened. Wha'sup with m'back."

"Do you not... remember?"

"Not really. 'Sa blur. Red? Hot. Loud." He pauses, considers. Furrows his brow confusedly. "M'arms hurt too? 'S bruising? Where's Kix?"

"...Kix was... forbidden from coming to see you."

This only confuses him further. "Why'd'ja do that?"

"...Fives, it wasn't me."

"But'chure th' Cap'n. Who--"

The memory that floods his senses with the force of a tsunami is enough to make him gasp. His eyes slam open and, almost of its own accord, his body launches itself off the cot and to its feet, which promptly reopens several of the scabs on his back, which in turn release a gush of blood and rip a scream from his throat as his legs turn to jelly and give out beneath him. Rex catches him before he can hit the floor and eases him back onto the medical deck cot where he was laying.

Everything is crystal clear, suddenly. 

"There's a rumor on this ship that someone, somewhere, is planning a mutiny. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Legionary?"

"No, Sir." He's careful to enunciate the sir with all the thinly-veiled disdain his voice can carry. "Can't say that I do."

Krell's eyes narrow, and he bends down to come face-to-face with his least-favorite soldier. "Is that so? Because my sources also claim that 'someone' may be you."

Fives tosses an eyebrow in a half-shrug. "Oh, I'm flattered, really. But, y'know, people talk. The boys get bored. Especially on long campaigns under questionable leadership.”

The force of Krell’s slap is enough to knock him dizzy to the floor. It was stupid of him to say, he knows. Rex, or maybe Kix, gives a cry of concern.

“You’ll tell me what I want to know, Clone,” Krell growls, “and you’ll speak to me with all the respect I deserve.”

His smart mouth’s gonna get him killed one day. But he can’t resist one more shot as he stumbles to his feet and wipes the shock-tears from his eyes.

“Oh, but Sir, I am. It’s not my fault that’s none.”

He thinks Krell might just execute him then and there, and honestly? He’d die with no regrets. Krell, too, looks for a moment as though that wouldn’t be such a bad plan, but then he straightens, smoothes his snarling visage, and announces, in a clipped tone:

"Your pride is getting tiring, Trooper. Thirty lashes.'

The scowl drops from Five’s face, and he pales.

Death he could handle. He faces it every day.

But not even the Kaminoans ever turned the lash on him.

"Sir, you can't-- you can't be serious."

"As death."

"But thirty lashes, that's-- it's sadistic!"

"Forty, then. You really do need to learn to curb your backtalk."

"Wait, please, Sir, General," Rex pipes up. His hands shake. "You don't-- don't do this. Please, he'll apologize, he--"

"--Needs to understand he must respect his superiors. As do you, apparently. I am acting General of the Five Hundred First Legion, I will discipline my soldiers as I see fit, and I will take no interference from defective-" and here he gestures with a sneer to Rex's close-cropped blond curls- "little Clones, no matter what rank they may possess. Perhaps you too would benefit from a few kisses of the whip, Seventy-Five Sixty-Seven."

Shock turns to fury, and thrusting an arm out almost protectively, Fives practically throws himself between his Captain and the usurper-general. 

"Don't you dare talk to the Captain like that ever again," he spits. He doesn’t care that Rex chokes out a Fives--, he doesn’t care if this earns him a hundred more lashes. That’s his bu- his Captain.

“Ah, but I’m only following your example!” Krell smiles with all the fake cheer he’s capable of. “Though, I must say, even if it is a double standard, your loyalty to your Captain is truly admirable. So, as a reward, I’ll bump the number from forty to…” And now, his grin is real, and crazed, and dangerous:

“Oh, why not. Let’s make it fifty-five.”

Everything goes silent. The mockery hangs in the air like a noose, daring him to challenge once more, to go one more step over the line, to make any additional comment that could justify cutting his tongue right out of his mouth. But Rex’s trembling hand on his pauldron begs him silently not to speak, and the next words are not his, but Kix’s.

“Please, sir,” he pleads. There’s something thick in his voice that Fives thinks may be tears. “Please, that’s-- he’ll bleed out. He’ll die of bloodloss, and you need him alive if you want him to tell you anything.”

“You make an excellent point. Tell me, what’s the most potent medicine on the Resolute’s medical deck?”

“I-- uh, well, I have a bottle of refined Kaminoan bacta--“

“Then you’ll administer it to him after the flogging. Is it oral or topical?”

“Sir, I--“

“Answer the question.”

“It-- uh, oral, sir, but--“

“Very well, I’ll even let you give it between lashes. I think after the twentieth should be reasonable. Is it, Medic?”

Kix can’t speak, just nod his head weakly. He looks almost more terrified than Fives himself. 

“Excellent!” Krell claps all four of his giant clawed hands. “You have half an hour to prepare. I want the entire legion at the mast by then.”

“Fives? Fives, are you alright?” Rex kneels by the cot to look the younger man in the eye, exhaustion and worry in his knitted brow. 

“I… ugh. Yeah. ‘M fine. Just… remembered.”

The Captain grimaces and straightens, and wrings out a cloth into a barrel of what Fives suspects (and, quite frankly, can only hope) is a bucket of precious clean freshwater, before he starts to sponge away the fresh blood from the reopened lacerations. One of his hands moves to Fives’s thick curls to gently massage his scalp.

“You did so good, you know,” he whispers. “You took it so well. I’m… really proud of you.”

Fives just sighs and screws his eyes closed.

Whatever happens, he swears to himself he’s not going to give that demagolka the luxury of hearing him scream.

Umbara’s air is cold and bitter against the bare skin of his torso and arms, but really, he didn’t expect anything less from the shadow isle. His brother’s faces in the crowd range from shocked to terrified to almost in tears to stony, tight-lipped stoicism. He just squares his shoulders, straightens his backbone, keeps his chin up, and looks straight ahead. 

He can’t, however, resist locking eyes with Rex when he passes, and the Captain’s face is grave and grieved and hopeless… and, as he gives his Legionary the tiniest of subtle nods, maybe just a little bit proud.

He says nothing as he’s tied to the mast, he says nothing as Krell makes a speech to his assembled brethren about loyalty and obedience and how ‘good soldiers follow orders’ or some rot like that, and he says nothing as Krell leans over to growl in his ear about how much he’s going to enjoy teaching him this lesson. 

The first lash hits and, though his clenched fists spasm open and his vision goes white with agony, he doesn’t make a sound.

Rex, after managing to staunch the bleeding, has quickly gone back to smoothing bacta over Fives’s mangled back. He finishes with a final rub of the shoulders and then reaches over to the supplies he’s gathered to grab a length of clean white bandages.

“Come on, Fives, I need you to sit up for me,” he murmurs. Fives peels his eyes open with a vague garbled murmur before he finds the Captain’s strong hands so gently helping ease him into an upwards position without disturbing any of the fragile lacerations. Rex very carefully starts wrapping the bandages around Fives’s torso.

“Gah.”

The older man pauses. “Are you alright?”

“Mmmh. Yeah. I…” Fives takes a deep breath. When he speaks again, his voice is very strained and heartbreakingly young-sounding. “It aches so much, can I lean on you, please?”

“I… yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He does. It feels so much better.

“Sorry,” he mumbles from where his face is smushed into the juncture of Rex’s neck and shoulder. “I’m not makin’ it any easier’ta bandage, ‘m I?”

“It’s okay. You’re good. Don’t… don’t worry about it, kid.”

True to his word, Krell lets Kix to the mast after the first twenty strokes. Fives can barely see through the pain-blindness and the tears that stream silently down his face, but he hears a yelp of surprise and a stumbling of feet and winces at the thought that his poor brother is slipping in the pool of his blood that seeps ever outward from the foot of the post. Yet despite the near-disaster, Kix draws up next to him and gently reaches a guiding hand to carefully tip his head back before lifting something cool and glassy to his lips.

“Drink it. Please,” the medic softly whispers. It’s so bitter that Fives nearly chokes, but he manages to take a few sips of it before Kix withdraws the bottle. In the motion, he tips their foreheads together for a brief moment and murmurs, “I’m so sorry I can’t do more. You’re doing so well.” One of his thumbs gently sweeps under his brother’s drenched lower lashes to catch any more tears from rolling off his face for now. 

“Medic! Get back here, you’re wasting time!” comes the bark from across the deck, and though Kix’s entire body tenses and there’s a jumpy glint in his eye, he takes one final second to clandestinely press a kiss to Fives’s brow before scurrying off with his half-full bottle of bacta.

“There you go.”

Fives can’t pull himself off of Rex’s shoulder. His whole body feels cast of lead; if anything, he sags more heavily into the Captain now that his bandage is tied off. 

“Thanks.”

“Any time.” Rex’s hand finds its way to stroke his young trooper’s hair. “You need any help laying back down?”

“Mmmh. Can I… stay here? For a little bit?”

“Wh-- I… of course. Of course, Fives.”

The thirtieth lash is where he finally breaks.

He doesn’t know if it’s that the torment that mounts with each fresh stroke has finally become too much to bear, or if by a fluke the flail traces itself in just the right way along his spine, but the whip leaves its thirtieth kiss and finally manages to tear something ragged and wet and raw from his throat.

It’s such a little gasp of pain. 

It chokes him.

He tries to pull himself back together.

Thirty-One. He’s silent.

Thirty-Two. New, thick tears drip down his cheekbones and run their fingers down his neck, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Three. His head snaps back when the tail grazes a rib it hasn’t touched before, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Four. His hands spasm and shake and his fingers twitch in distress, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Fi— Fi— Oh, Force help him, he can’t take it anymore.

He gasps again.

He doesn’t even register that he was falling asleep until he jolts himself awake.

“Easy!” Rex exclaims, catching him by the shoulders. “Hey, kid, if you’re dropping off we should probably lay you down, yeah?”

Fives just softly groans in response.

Fifty.

He can’t check his gasps anymore; by now, they come with every stroke, and they’re only growing more and more desperate. But, true to his promise, he still hasn’t screamed. He’s held out this long and, thank the stars above and sea below, it’s almost over.

How he’s still this lucid is beyond him. It must be Kix’s high-potency bacta, because in addition to the strange coherency of his thoughts, he can also feel his flesh trying to stitch itself back together between lashes. If he’s being honest… it makes it that much more painful, but there’s no way his poor brother could have known that. He was just trying to help. Force bless him. 

Fifty-One. He lost the ability to see at all around the twenty-third lash, but it’s still jarring to watch the black spots dancing in the white fog that’s replaced his vision.

Fifty-Two. Just three more, he tells himself. It might have been mingled with his latest strangled choke. At this point he almost doesn’t care. Almost.

Fifty-Three. He can gasp and choke and fight for his every breath, but he’s not going to scream. He’s not going to scream. He promised himself. Krell is not going to hear him scream.

Fifty-Four. Krell is NOT going to hear him scream.

Fifty-Five. 

It’s too much.

He can’t tell if the sound is a swear or someone’s name or just one long shriek of agony, but it’s horrible and loud and broken and his. It arches his spine and throws back his head and splays out his fingers and he shakes, and then his voice gives out and he slumps heavily against the mast. 

He screamed.

He failed.

He hates himself. 

He thinks he hears someone say, somewhere, Cut him down. His wrists come loose and there’s warm arms gingerly easing him to the ground, careful not to jostle his flayed-open back as they guide him to rest in their owner’s lap.

There’s distant sounds of what might be an argument. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He wants to sleep.

The arms very gently hoist him into a fireman’s carry, and he leans- as much as he can, with his weeping back- against his supporter, but it’s no use. He blacks out after three steps.

Rex, after gently maneuvering Fives into a sleeping position on the cot, facedown and back up so as to not disturb his slowly healing back, had knelt down beside the cot to hold his limp hand.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers after an indeterminate amount of time. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“‘S not… your fault.”

“I’m the Captain. This is my ship. You’re a member of my crew. I should be able to stand up to Krell. If I had a stronger backbone, this never would have happened.”

“Cap… tain. Listen t’ me. You’re a good man. You’re a good Captain. ‘S just tha’ Krell… isn’t. He hates me. ‘S not your fault.”

Rex hums noncommittally and strokes Fives’s hair with his free hand. 

“I… promise, Cap. Not’chure fau–”

“Shhh. You should sleep. I doubt Krell’s going to give you much of a recovery leave.”

“But--“

“Shhh.”

Fives sighs and begrudgingly closes his eyes. He’d love to argue with the Captain for another hour, but the fact of the matter is he’s spent. He can barely keep himself conscious. 

Still, with as much strength as he can muster, he gently squeezes Rex’s hand in his slackening grasp. He’s met, in turn, with an infinitely soft kiss to the temple, and then he slips away into sleep.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

So, in Brazilian book market news, books generated by Artificial Intelligence are starting to pop up in the country's Amazon store.

Journalists from Núcleo Jornalismo had identified new 59 books on the website on the past 30 days. Within this set, 52 titles make clear in their information the use of AI tools for text generation, placing the co-authorship for “Artificial Intelligence” or “ChatGPT”, the OpenAI chatbot. In another three cases, authorship is attributed to MidJourney (an AI focused on images), while four obtained confirmation from the report through alternative approaches, checking on YouTube.

In July, Amazon and six other leading AI companies pledged to the US White House to use technology responsibly. Representatives of these companies signed an agreement that includes the implementation of a watermarking system, which, in theory, will inform users when content on their platforms is generated by artificial intelligence algorithms.

The themes of the publications found vary from children's books to self-help works, fiction and even imitations of renowned authors. Some of them explore the metanarrative, under which ChatGPT investigates its own nature.

Núcleo also noticed 46 new coloring books in the last 30 days on Amazon alone. Everyone seems to be using the basics of digital marketing videos. However, without certainty that they were created from AI, the works were not counted.

Influential authors are also sharing concerns about another angle to this situation: spam. Some firmly argue that the volume of AI-generated books is putting detrimental pressure on Amazon, especially for indie authors. And it doesn't stop there; these authors also accuse this content of becoming a kind of “click farm”, a term that describes the mass production of questionable and superficial content to attract attention and audience.

(x)

[lyricalambrosia]

I love writing normal well adjusted men (aka another snippet of the final chapter of Can You Feel The Sun?, the first two chapters of which you can read here!)

[celestial-toys]

*closes 13 tabs on astrology and greek mythology*

ES Ch.5… is now complete.

[rosemary-bells]

may be remembering this wrong but that one scene post-five yrs when smj was worrying abt mr not being as considerate to him anymore.

bro u literally cut his heart open. he was probably worried abt the flower not working or smth like that and not like. mr not liking him anymore (didn’t he admit that he didn’t even like mr that much??) but bro. knife. heart. if he doesn’t pay attention to you anymore he has ever y right to do so sir