#but if you want to compare them you have to understand their backgrounds

[lotusarchon]

nezha is a child in the show isn't he? why are you shipping yourself with a minor and writing romance with him?that's so creepy,,,, how are you talking about dynamicsimp when you're doing worst 🤮

Found this cute Nezha fanart anyways

I knew I had to deal with one of y'all eventually but I didn't think it'd be this soon. Damn, at least let me hit 100 followers first 😞

Anyways uh. Nezha's first introduction in season 3 came out in like, what, 2022? I'm assuming it is, because I started LMK in March of 2023, before s4 was released and already found the show up till s3 by then. S5 just released this year, of which we've seen a weird increase of Nezha screentime of which I'm not complaining.

Point blank. The Nezha age controversies are getting old and boring. New fans and old fans need to chill out with those issue about the age business.

1) It's confirmed the Lego Monkie Kid version of the deity known as Nezha is an adult.

2) This is a god of an Eastern religion who is still very much worshipped to our modern day. If you did your research, you should be able to take note that Nezha isn't only seen as a child god, but even portrayed as someone older. I'm not a Daoist nor Chinese, so I advise you check this blog ( @/ruibaozha ) for more information on the subject matter.

3) As is the case with modern media and adaptations, different shows will portray religious figures according to what works for their plot. In the movie Nezha 2019 (forgot the title whoops), Nezha is portrayed as a child, as we are seeing a comedic but angsty interpretation of his origins. In the Legend Of Hei, we see him portrayed as a child, assuming for comedic purposes and to bond with the MC Hei.

3.2) If LMK wanted to portray Nezha as a child like his appearances in Journey To The West, and the Fengshen Yanyi (?), you must understand then his design and personality would've been portrayed more childish or at the very least a mixture of mature and childish. We can see this by comparing LMK Nezha and TLOH Nezha = both are stern but where one acts, looks and often shows childish traits, the other acts like an exhausted 25 year old who needs therapy. LMK HAS made children in the past, as we've seen with the Lady Bone Demon's Host and in season 1 a few kids here and there as background characters. If the show wanted Nezha to be a child, I'm certain they would've given him a similar model.

4) If in the instance that, let's say, the god known as Nezha was a child, and LMK Nezha is an adult, you SHOULD separate fiction from religion. Do keep in mind that Sun Wukong is still very much worshipped, however, I have seen fans, in and outside of LMK, who have written heavy NSFW and simped for him. A god is not the same as a fictional character, because by that logic we shouldn't be simping much less writing NSFW of Wukong either, given his story in JTTW where he becomes a Buddha.

5) I do not like proshipping much like any sane person. I also HATE aging up minors in fiction just for something like self shipping or to write nsfw. I have been in fandoms before this one: Jujutsu Kaisen, Tokyo Revengers, and My Hero Academia specifically, and it makes me uncomfortable seeing porn written of actual minors with excuse of them being aged up. I'm not so hypocritical I'd dare to want to do the same, not when I'm uncomfortable with anyone else doing it. If LMK Nezha was a minor, and there were sources to even prove as well within the series he's a child, then obviously, I would NOT be shipping myself with him, much less write romantic/nsfw content with him. I'm an adult, and I don't feel comfortable with minors in general, so why would I want to write romantic content about a FICTIONAL minor??

If you can find any source that proves me wrong, I'd like for you to do so. But until then, you, and everyone else who still wants to entertain Nezha's age; please stop.

I get it. Some of you like to headcanon him as a child so as such, seeing content with him as romantic or nsfw is uncomfortable. I understand, I do; I headcanon Mei as an aroace lesbian so sometimes it's uncomfortable finding any kind of content with her being paired with others. I do understand where you're coming from with your discomfort.

But I feel like, considering season 5 and hopefully if there's a season 6, the whole thing is just dust now. S3 must've been released in 2022, so it's been nearly two years since Nezha's appearance in the show. People headcanon he's a child, and people prefer to like the confirmation he's an adult. We get it, that's what fandoms are, different views etc.

But calling people proshippers or creepy or pedophiles for not adhering to YOUR headcanons is not only fucking stupid, it's just hilarious and way too old, AND just...boring. Especially considering I feel uncomfortable around minors and hate proshipping with a passion. There's genuinely nothing wrong with liking a headcanon, but if someone likes something that isn't problematic and doesn't adhere to your preference, I think you need to breathe a bit.

I was saving this off for last however, you hit the nail on the coffin with this. There is a literal document talking about the disgusting actions of DynamicSimp. If you still choose to like them that's fine, but forgive me for pointing out how hypocritical it is for you to bring up the person who purposely shared porn with minors to someone who avoids minors like they're the rat plague of the Middle Ages. 🤔

"you talk about DynamicSimp but you're doing worst"

Do you mean writing porn for a character who is confirmed to be an adult? Do you mean ensuring that my 18+ blog isn't found by minors and if it is I'll block them? Do you mean supporting someone who's harassed others about Nezha's age?? Do you mean being an absolute creep around children?? Do you mean breaking the boundaries where people have clearly expressed discomfort? Do you mean romanticizing abuse amongst other things for an au clearly being consumed by minors with no regards or wellbeings?

I wonder who's the worst. Me, the adult who only recently turned 18 and has limited his interaction with minors outside of family members, or the however old they are person who has a literal document and their victims speaking up about their actions, and who to my current knowledge has not spoken up about this and is still posting and carrying on without a care in the world?

Well zoinks Scoob, guess we're not making outta this one alive 😟

Edit: .....*disappointed sighs* I think some people really oughta chill out in my comments. Anon, I blame this on you 😭 why did you bring this here holy fucking shit dawg.

Alright. Alright uh.

Okay, so while I do appreciate being told the reasons as to WHY Nezha was "aged up", because a writer wanted to justify shipping Wukong and Nezha...I feel like the entire, "ah, but this says, and that says here-" about Nezha's age is just ridiculous at this point.

Yes, I understand, this is justifiably weird.

However.

Has anyone else refuted Nezha's age?? And I mean the canon show writers? Has anyone working on Lego Monkie Kid made a statement saying: "This person is disgusting, LMK Nezha is a child." Because, respectfully, unless canon sources provide information on it, I'm not going off based on the fandom opinions.

I'm not happy I have to edit this post to add this, much less try to explain anything, but, oh well.

1) "Ali, you're just trying to justify yourself and keep writing for a child." Listen. I've been groomed and dealt with fucking weirdos my entire life. Trust me when I say whenever I hear about proshipping it SICKENS me to the core. I HATE proshipping. I don't care what the excuse is, proshipping is disgusting.

I'm not mentioning the interesting fellows in my comments because it's pointless and honestly to make drama over this is stupid. But I was given some context to understand where they're coming from, and I do in fact appreciate it. Justifiably I don't blame them for their annoyance/disgust towards the writer Sarah (?).

What I will say though; typically in a situation like this, I'm certain someone in the team would've made a statement about this to explain that the writer is wrong. I'd assume at least one writer, someone OFFICIALLY on the team would've denied this proclamation of Nezha being an adult. I have not seen ANYTHING that says the show denies Nezha being an adult.

2) My friend, who was also in the comments (hi), is a native Chinese and a Buddhist for six years. I also have another friend who I'm not mentioning but ALSO is Chinese and WORSHIPS Nezha. They have more knowledge than someone like me does have on this matter, and I find it really odd how people immediately cite wiki and website sources to say, "Nezha is an eternal child!", and, "No where else says Nezha is an adult."

As I've said. If there are sources including the staff from Lego Monkie Kid that claims Nezha is a child, then I am more than willing to delete any content I've made with him. Full honesty, I have no intention of keeping any content with canon, confirmed minors on my blog.

But not only have I found anything that says the official story writers deny Nezha's an adult, but my friends, who are again, both Daoist and native Chinese, are aware that he ISN'T an eternal child.

If you are Daoist and/or worship Nezha, then by all means you can tell me that what I'm doing is wrong and correct me about Nezha's age. I'm willing to listen. If you also find information where the writers claim Saraha is wrong for her statement, provide it. I'm a person that likes reasoning, and I'm willing to see reason.

3) "Ali, you're not gonna see reason you're just trying to defend yourself again-"

Okay, backstory time: last year when I joined LMK, when I myself was a minor, I thought it was okay to write nsfw content for the character who was Lady Bone Demon's Host. My friends at the time did not tell me what I was doing was bad, so of course I kept it up, until someone pointed out that Bai He (fan name) is actually a minor in the show and was also confirmed by the show's producers. I felt so disgusted about it I deleted all my posts made on my old AO3 about her (which is faeriicrafts and still up surprisingly) and offered a sincere apology to the fandom about writing nsfw content for her. I changed and learned, and now I feel grossly uncomfortable seeing anyone writing nsfw for her despite the canon confirmations.

Justifiably, if more information about Nezha is released within Lego Monkie Kid, of which it's confirmed he's a child, I am more than eager to delete everything I've written about him, and even apologize again for writing nsfw with a minor.

To be honest, I just feel uncomfortable with the comments who are denying actual Daoists for the sake of; "I've done my research, no other sources has said Nezha is an adult, you're lying about worshipping him!!"

It's uncomfortable and really off-putting how you can tell someone that about their religion. Yes, this is for you specifically, that one commenter who jumped in and on my friend. Even if she has long since stopped worshipping Nezha, she very much did once. And I've gone to actual Daoists to ask more information about Nezha and the religion in general, who has in fact confirmed Nezha isn't just a child. I get that this is the internet, people can lie about anything. But it's still uncomfortable, solely because had anyone else claimed they're Daoist or ex Daoist and agreed with your opinion, you wouldn't have said that.

I'll reopen my comments within a few minutes, but don't be a disrespectful cunt. And can you maybe not deny someone about their religion? Even if you don't believe them, that's genuinely not an excuse. Because I know damn well, had she agreed with your statement, you wouldn't have pulled that.

Gods. I can't say I'm not surprised, but I'm just impressed about the lengths people will go for something.

Anyways, I've said my piece. If official show writers (because my Daoist friends have already told me what I needed to know) claim Nezha is a child, I'll delete my stuff with him. If not, then I'm not stopping posting Nezha content.

Toodles.

[catradoratwtgoodies]

Glimmer is better than Catra idiot look how she reacted at the end of season 4. She immediately tried to rectify her mistake unlike Catra who wanted the world to burn

“Signs” the difference between the situations is that Glimmer is a spoiled princess with a loving family and Catra is a child soldier who’s been abused her entire life.

Ofc Glimmer can admit she was wrong. She grew up in a loving home so she learned to admit when she was wrong. Her mom died which is traumatic but it can’t really compare with Catra’s situation. Their mental states are entirely different.

Catra leading up to the portal has been send to die and had been tortured by Shadow Weaver. She has never had a healthy way to deal with her trauma. She was suicidal.

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[snow-and-saltea]

yesterday i spent 45 minutes of my life watching a video essay criticising the use of cheap shock values and crossing of taboos for a video game and i went from "he has a point even if he's explaining it in a really inflammatory way" to "oh umm... i can see how he thinks that way even if i don't agree" to "oh this guy's just straight up using people on tumblr as material for an audience to get mad at like other outdated people on the internet. nvm he's just an asshole"

[wheeloffortune-design]

it's not 'AI art has no soul' because soul is subjective and creating art is not necessarily a divine spark of inspiration, sometimes human made art is empty of feeling and meaning and that's okay.

it's not 'AI art is ugly' because human made art doesn't need to be pretty, it's still art, no matter if you're starting or if you intentionally make ugly things. It's still okay.

The problem, with AI art (besides the copyright theft, the environmental issues, the artists losing their jobs..)

The problem is that

AI art lacks INTENT

When a human makes something, every part of the creation is a decision made. Why this line, why this color, why this word, why this stitch, why this note.

They may be good decisions, bad decisions, it doesn't matter. The end result is something with thought, and this is why we appreciate art. There is the surface, and underneath, there is an ocean of decisions made by the artist.

AI art has no intent.

Yes, they will type prompts for a general idea. And they will pick a result.

But there is no thought about poses, colors, lines, backgrounds, details, negative space, lighting, texture, framing, etc.

Becoming a good artist means to understand these decisions and align them to make the result you want.

AI art will pick through millions of those decisions made by other people and will stick them together without meaning or reason, so they lose their intended purpose. This is why people think AI art is empty, that it has no 'soul'. Because there is no thought process behind it.

We should stop comparing human and AI art by using words like "better" or "worse". People will always have different opinions.

But as a human, I am more interested in things made by other humans, because I can observe all those tiny decisions, I can relate to some, be surprised by some, dislike some, it's all good.

Art is people communicating.

AI art has nothing to say.

[totalswag]

Love your writing! So good!! Could you do one where the reader and Rafe have not been dating for long, only for about two weeks or so, and she is very insecure and doesn´t understand why he ever approached her to ask her out in the first place. She isn´t the most outgoing and thinks she is quite plain looking, comparing herself to all the much prettier girls (in her opinion) at parties that she evidently thinks he will leave her for and so she she starts to distance herself to make it hurt less

unworthy doubts — RAFE CAMERON

authors note first off, thank you so much. you don’t know how much that means to me. to all of you reading this right now; please know how important you're in this world. youre beautiful on the inside and outside in your own unique way 🤍.

summary questioning and comparing yourself to other girls while wondering why your boyfriend, rafe cameron, chose you.

warnings insecure, comparing, mentions of parties, crying, doubt.

Rafe Cameron and you started dating for almost a month; it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Although it’s in the early stages of your relationship, you haven’t felt this way.

However, your insecurities felt like they'd been with you forever.

Rafe's confidence and charisma seemed to effortlessly command whatever room he entered. You felt invisible; blending into the background. Comparing yourself to other girls at parties; pretty smile, makeup, etc.

What could rafe see in you?

The worries had recently gotten stronger, a constant voice in the back of your head. When you saw Rafe taking to someone or laughing too hard at someone’s joke, the voice whispers became louder.

You stood against the railing of Tannyhill watching at the sunset in your own thoughts. The breeze felt nice and it felt like good time to enjoy the moment.

"Hey," Rafe's voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump slightly. He joined you at the railing with a troubled expression on his face. "You have been quiet recently. Is everything alright?

Rafe noticed your change in attitude in the previous three days. He had asked if everything was fine, but you refused to talk about it. Tonight, he wants answers. He's concerned about you.

You forced a smile, but it did not reach your eyes. "Yeah, I am fine." Just... exhausted, I suppose."

Rafe did not appear convinced. He stretched out and carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know you can speak with me, right? If something is bothering you, please let me know.”

Your heart sunk as you heard those words. Deep down, you want to open up to him and express your feelings. You don't want to come across as undesirable and make him think differently of you.

You felt words spilling out, but you remained silent.

"Y/N, I feel like you're pulling away from me." "Is it something I said or did?" He creaked "Please let me know, baby."

"It's not you, Rafe," you eventually confessed, the words rushing out before you could stop them. "It's me." I just don't understand why you chose me. I am not like the other gals. I'm not as attractive, outgoing, or—"

Rafe cut you off, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Is that what you think? That I don't realize how magnificent you are?"

Rafe's thoughts were all over the place. Seeing tears gather in the corner of your eyes caused him to cry.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling tears form in your eyes, and down your cheeks. Not bothering drying them off.

"It's difficult for me to not to think about that when I'm constantly comparing myself to these girls" you ramble on when Rafe cuts you off.

Rafe approached, holding your face in his hands. "Look at me," he murmured quietly, waiting for you to meet his eyes. "I asked you out because I like who you are. You are nice and intelligent, and you make me laugh like no one else can. You are attractive to me both inside and out. And if you can't see it yet, I'll spend as much time as necessary to show you."

His words struck you like a tsunami, removing any doubts and anxieties that had been building up. You took a nervous breath as tears finally poured over.

You bury your face against his chest, letting out your sobs and putting your arms around his body; Rafe gently strokes your back, rocking you both side to side and whispers nice words into your ear to calm you down. 

"I can't afford to lose you," you whine against his chest.

"Baby, you will not lose me; I will be with you every step of the way," Rafe says before kissing the top of your head several times.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @rosezza @solanathascientst @diqldrunks

[urfavlarry]

hi! can u write about a drunk love confession lolll 😭🎀

Why’d you only call me when your high?

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, mentions of alc0hol

summary: you and Joost have been friends for a few years now but ever since he got more recognized after his song ‘friesenjung’ came out you both became more distant. What will you do after he calls you for the first time in months, drunk?

A/N: this is um.. long .. enjoy!

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were alone in the house, your parents went off to the neighbours to go grilling. You decided to not go since you were doing things with them the whole day and you just felt exhausted. You went to cook yourself a quick meal, just some toast with whatever on top. You looked at the time, 10:28PM. Joost was performing currently in Amsterdam, not that you knew anything about it. He was probably going to get a few drinks with friends after it like he usually did after his last concert of the season. He has probably long forgot about you, probably replacing you with someone else by now. Ever since he became more famous, you both stopped reaching out as often. There wasn’t any hate behind it, Joost wasn’t the type to cut people off because of fame which you loved about him and you missed him dearly you just.. drifted apart?

You went back up to your room, deciding to go to sleep early tonight, opening the window for some cool air to come into the room. The covers called your name, snuggling into them and getting comfortable. You fall asleep a few minutes later, the room was dark and the wind entered your room like an unwelcome guest, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

A buzzing noise wakes you up, your phone lighting up and blinding your tired eyes. You try and get up, body still a bit weak since you woke up about 5 seconds ago. You grab your phone and your heart skips a beat, the name “duck” appearing on your phone. It was a nickname you gave to Joost years ago. You were teens, trying to make up nicknames for each other and you just took the word dutch and turned it into duck. You watch it ring for a few seconds and then sigh, cursing a bit then pick it up. “Hello?” You say, your voice raspy and very tired sounding. “Hallo?” You hear the dutch accent you oh so loved come through the phone. “Hello, hello.” You turn around and lay on your stomach, waiting for him to speak. The noises in the background were loud and clear, loud music coming through the phone. “Is dat het meisje waar je het over had?” (Is that the girl you were talking about?) “ja ja ga nu..” (yea yea, go now.)

He shifted around before he spoke again. “Sorry, what’s up?” You raise a brow, was this some kind of phone call you get from your dad once a year? “Nothing much, why are you calling me?” He chuckles, voice deep and handsome like always. “Can I not call mijn liefde?” (my love) “What are you on about Joost? Are you drunk?” “No, no.” He slurs, making you scoff. “Yeah, yeah.” He was mumbling things in dutch you couldn’t understand; “Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.. mijn lief meisje.” (I want no one else but you.. my sweet girl.) “Fucking hell Joost.. where the hell are you? Is Apson with you?” He nods, which you barely heard but at least he gave you an answer. Apson would mostly stay sober, only having a few drinks so you decided to call him. He picked up, voice cheerful like always. You told him to take Joost home since he sounded like he had enough for the night and he kindly agreed. You thank him, ending the call with him before trying to go back to sleep.

3:07AM, another phone call wakes you up. “What the fuck is wrong with him..” You ask yourself before picking up. “Joost it’s 3AM can you go to sleep?” You demand and he just smiles. Oh yeah you were on face time now, great. You looked like a zombie compared to him, he looked more energetic than you did, his hair wet and it looked like he was shirtless. Probably just got out of the shower. “I wanted to see your stunning face schatje.” He says, laying down on his side, the side of his face resting against a pillow.

You sigh, watching him like a hawk. The light coming from his side of the phone blinded you, making you groan. “What do you want? I’m exhausted from your bullshit.” You say and he pouts; “Why are you so mean, hm? Do you not miss me?” He asks, smiling, his adorable, genuine smile. “Joost stop it.” He chuckled, moving around in his room when he suddenly turned his lights off, the only light that let you see his face was from his LEDs. He started mumbling things again, his voice lulling you to sleep but you fought back the urge to sleep. “Jij bent zo schitterend..” (you’re so stunning) “Joost I’m hanging up.” “No, no.. Blijf bij me.” (stay with me) “Ik wil je Y/N.” (I want you Y/N.) “Ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd.” (I can’t get you out of my head.) All of these things meant nothing to you. You didn’t speak dutch, maybe a few phrases and words but you weren’t fluent. You brushed off all of those phrases, when he said the one thing he taught you during your time as close friends. “Ik hou van jou lieverd.” (I love you sweetheart.)

You face turned bright red, quickly hanging up and flipping onto your back. Your eyes were wide eyed, staring at the dark ceiling above you. You internally scream, maybe he meant it in a friendly way? But the nickname?? It was weird. He was just drunk after all, it probably didn’t even mean anything. You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning before finally succeeding.

Morning came quicker than usual, making your stomach turn and face feel hot. You didn’t even dare open your phone, deciding to pack your things and head home to Amsterdam a little earlier than expected. You booked a flight, canceling the one you were supposed to take 3 days later then this one.

The minute you got home you opened the messages. Some were from last night and some were from a few minutes ago. You tried replying but no words were coming to mind, your fingers just hovering above the cold screen.

———————————————————

Duck🦆💙

Y/N

Y/N

Hello??

why did u hang up hm?

blijf bij me

please

ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd

sent 16 hours ago

————————— new messages —————————

Y/N

Im so sorry I woke u up yesterday

I was drunk haha

hope to see u soon, today Im performing in that club we used to go to as teens

ill look for u after

———————————————————

You contemplated whether to go or not. You wanted to see him, but another part of you didn’t. Why should you be the one running back to him? It made no sense to you, yet you went. It was like you were in a daze, getting ready, taking the train to the city he was performing in.. it all felt forced in a way. You got stopped by a few fans then made your way to the barrier. You bought a ticket last minute most people already in the club waiting for their idol to come up on stage. 15 minutes until it started, you felt disgusting. Sweaty fan girls who never heard of a shower were all around you, all you wanted to do was curl yourself into a ball and dissapear on the spot. It will be so akward talking after almost a year of barely knowing of each other’s pressence yet you still wanted to see him, hug him.. kiss him.

The concert went by fast, you and Joost making eye contact several times which made you even more anxious than you were before. You walked back stage, most of the security recognising you and letting you pass which surprised you. The halls felt endless, walking in front of his door you gently knocked almost instantly hearing footsteps. And there he was. He changed a lot. His hair was now longer, looking more mature but he was still there. Your Joost. “Weren’t you supposed to be the one looking for me?” He rubbed his neck, chuckling awkwardly before pulling you into the room. It looked like he was trying to find the right words to start which made you count down the dreadful seconds going by.

“Well, what I said yesterday was true. I don’t remember all of it but from the messages I said it was pretty obvious. I really do love you and I hate that you aren’t by my side. I hate that I can’t wake up with you in my arms. I miss you. I miss your smile, your energy, I miss hearing your thoughts, I miss everything about you. Liefje please I need you I can’t live without you.” He looked at you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes, looking desperate but it was obvious he truly meant every single word. You smile softly, cupping his cheeks. “I love you too. You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you. It was like a part of my heart was taken away from me.” He kissed your forehead, smiling down at you. “I promise to never leave you. Never.” “Promise.”

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[dailymanners]

I feel as though in the past few years it's becoming more common for me to be interrupted while I'm speaking, and I can't help but wonder if more people are losing a sense of conversational rhythm due to communicating more and more digitally and less and less in person.

When you communicate digitally you don't have to worry about finding the natural rhythm of the conversation, you're not taking away someone else's ability to finish their thought or make their point if you send a message to them while they're still typing. I'm not here to scare monger about the kids and their phones, but it's important that you don't let your skill of finding a conversational rhythm, if you have that skill, atrophy, lest you speak over someone and take away their ability to complete their thought and make their point.

But I also realize that it's really important to specify what I mean by interrupting someone.

When someone says that interrupting is really normal and not considered rude in their community or culture, what they're actually talking about is what's known in linguistics as "cooperative overlap", that or simultaneous talking. Here's an example of cooperative overlap and/or simultaneous talking that you might see in a culture where this is normal and acceptable:

Person A: So guess where I went today? I went to the -

Person B: Oh let me take a wild guess! You went to the shoe store again didn't you?

Person A: That's right, and I got a -

Person C: Oh come on, don't tell you got another pair!

Person A: You know it baby!

Now let's compare that to a different style of interruption, what I like to call "steamrolling"

Person A: So guess where I went today? I went to the -

Person B: UGH did you guys catch the game last night?

Person C: Yeah the refs sucked!

Now, what differences can you see between the first example, aka "cooperative overlapping" vs the second "steamrolling" example?

For one, in the first example Person A is still allowed to make their point, tell their story, and finish their thought. They're not being silenced or completely derailed, and most importantly their conversation partners still seem interested and engaged in what they have to say. In the second example, Person A is being completely derailed and stripped of their chance to finish their thought and make their point, which is unfair to Person A, which is what makes "steamrolling" disrespectful even in many cultures and communities where "cooperative overlapping" would be acceptable.

Now, conversational overlap isn't for everyone, and that's okay, but it makes it awkward and tricky when someone from a community or culture that uses conversational overlap talks to someone who is from a culture that doesn't. For example:

Person A: So the other day I went to -

Person B: Oh my god did you go to that one store?

Person A: Um, no, I went to the movies, and I saw -

Person B: OH did you see that new creepy movie about the aliens?

Person A: No, can I please just finish my story?

Person B: Oh, uh, sorry

Neither person will probably feel great after this conversation. And I'm not here to condemn either conversational styles. I understand why some people see cooperative overlap as a more engaging and exciting conversational style, but I also understand why some people find it frustrating. My mother's family has a cultural background big on conversational overlap, but my father's side of the family ehhh not so much, so I personally grew up seeing these two conversational styles clash a lot.

If you're person A in the above conversation who doesn't like conversational overlap, that's totally fine, I'm personally not a big fan of it either only because I have a terrible memory, so when someone disrupts my flow I usually end up completely forgetting what I want to say. Just try to recognize the difference between cooperative overlap vs steamrolling. If someone is just trying to cooperatively overlap with you, patiently and politely tell them something along the lines of "sorry I have a terrible memory so if I don't finish I'll forget what I'm trying to say". But it's generally a good idea to be more patient and understanding with conversational overlap than steamrolling.

If you're someone who cooperatively overlaps and you encounter someone who isn't a fan of it, try not to take it personally, maybe like me they have a horrible memory and will forget what they're trying to say if they get side tracked.

But what I meant earlier about conversational rhythm is that too often a lot of interrupting comes from not realizing the other person wasn't finished speaking.

For example, personal A wants to say "so the other day I went hiking, and I saw a fox" some people might not recognize when person A is actually finished speaking, typically they assume as soon as they've heard a complete clause that means the thought is finished, so the conversation goes like

Person A: So the other day I went hiking -

Person B: OH I went hiking a few weeks ago with my girlfriend but it was so slippery out!

Person C: Oh how is your girlfriend doing by the way?

Person B: She's doing great! How's your partner doing?

Do you see how this style of interruption, unlike cooperative overlap, also derails Person A and deprives Person A of a chance to finish what they want to say? It's not quite steamrolling, and often just comes from a lack of rhythm or understanding. As a general rule, if you want to avoid interrupting someone, pause for a few seconds after you think they're finished in case they aren't actually finished. This way you avoid accidentally depriving someone of the chance to finish what they want to say and completing their thought.

We should never be too eager to assume someone has finished making their point because you never know what someone might actually be trying to say, and if you cut someone off before they make their point you can miss important context. For example:

Person A: I don't think I see stray cats here -

Person B: AHA BULL FUCKING SHIT! I totally saw a stray cat the other day!

Person A: I was going to say as much as in other places if you had let me finish?

Or:

Person A: I hate when it's hot out. When I was a kid it was usually around 25 or 30 degrees Celsius in the summers -

Person B: OH come one don't be such a wimpy little baby! 25-30 degrees isn't even that warm! I've totally seen WAY hotter summers than that!

Person A: Uh, that's what I was going to say if you'd let me finish, the summers were pretty mild when I was a kid, but they're a lot hotter now . .

Do you see how in both conversations Person B was too eager to assume Person A had finished making their point and ended up missing important context? If person B had only paused and waited for Person A to finish making their point, they wouldn't have ended up making an ass of themselves to put it frankly. This style of interruption can make you come across as eager to dominate and "one up" other people, which frankly a lot of people find obnoxious and exhausting. This is different than cooperative overlapping because it comes from a place of wanting to correct or one-up your conversation partner, rather than play and/or build into what they're saying, which is why I'd argue it's closer to steamrolling.

Good conversational rhythm ideally means everyone is allowed to finish their thought and make their point, whether or not that includes overlapping or even simultaneous talking. If you're not sure someone has finished their thought, pause a few seconds to make sure they've had the chance to complete their thought, less you miss important context. OR, if you do interject, it should be about building/playing into what they're saying rather than derailing/steamrolling them.

What's important to keep in mind is that it's often a matter of power and respect when someone is or isn't allowed to finish their thought and make their point. If someone is unable to finish their thought or make their point before getting steamrolled, they're going to feel like their input to the conversation isn't valued or important, and that's never a good feeling.

[crimsntwlip]

scars | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: based on this request!

a/n: so sorry i took awhile to post this req <33 remus art creds to: @/likeafunerall on ig!!

| posted: 4/2/24 | masterlist |

you and remus had been friends for quite some time now, bonding over your shared love for books and late night conversations. however, there was one thing you noticed about him - he never liked talking about his scars.

you, on the other hand, had a few scars yourself, but they were nothing compared to the ones that marred remus's skin. yours were mostly from childhood scrapes and silly accidents, each with its own funny story or memory attached to it. you would often laugh and joke about them, but whenever the topic of scars came up, remus would quickly change the subject.

one night, as the two of you sat in the gryffindor common room, you found yourself recounting the story behind a scar on your knee from falling out of a tree when you were younger. remus listened in awe as you animatedly described the events leading up to the fall and the hilarious aftermath.

“ i can't believe you were that brave as a child,” remus said, his eyes shining with admiration. “i would have been too scared to even climb a tree.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “well, you never know what you're capable of until you try, right?”

you noticed a shift in remus' demeanor. his eyes seemed to darken slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “is everything alright, remus?” you asked, concerned.

he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice low and hesitant. “i... i don't really like talking about my scars.”

you nodded understandingly, not wanting to push him further. but to your surprise, remus spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper. “but... hearing you talk about your scars and the memories behind them, it's... it's nice. It's like... they're not just scars, they're... stories.”

you smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. “yeah, they're like reminders of the adventures and mishaps we've had along the way.”

for a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, before remus spoke up once more, his voice stronger this time. “i... suppose I could share a story or two about my scars, if you're interested.”

you beamed at him, eager to hear the tales behind the mysterious marks that marred his skin. as the conversation shifted to remus, you couldn't help but notice the way his expression softened when he spoke about his scars. he reluctantly shared a few stories behind them, but you could tell it was difficult for him. you made sure to listen attentively, showing him the same patience and understanding he always showed you.

as remus finished telling his story, to which he now regretted telling, he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

noticing his demeanor, you smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand in solidarity. “i think your scars are beautiful, remus,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with warmth and understanding. “and i wouldn't change a single one of them because they're a part of what makes you who you are.”

remus met your gaze, his eyes shimmering with emotion as he processed your words. a soft smile played on his lips, and he squeezed your hand back gently. in that moment, you both shared a silent understanding, a newfound closeness that transcended words.

“thank you,” remus whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. “you always see the best in people, don't you?”

you shrugged modestly, a hint of blush coloring your cheeks. “i just know a good soul when I see one.”

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire in the common room providing a soothing background noise as you two continued talking through the night.

[genericpuff]

What do you think about Reachel's new redraw?

I feel like the characters look good but the background is too gray compared to the original one 😕

It's pretty rough, ngl. Not even necessarily because of the art itself, but because it's not a panel she should have ever redrawn to begin with.

The whole point of that scene was to showcase Persephone bringing life into the Underworld, a place where only death existed, but in this redraw it completely lacks that messaging, resulting in a scene of Persephone and Hades simply hugging each other in the dark with very dead-looking foliage surrounding them.

On a structural level, the composition has gone from vertical to horizontal, giving us way too much empty space around them which, again, is failed by the background being so dull and lifeless; Persephone's somehow become even smaller; and worst of all (though I'm sure some people will think I'm overreacting) her hair isn't tucked up in Hades' arms anymore, it's just sort of falling perfectly over his shoulder as one solid goop of pink, strangely changing shape as if it's resting on something but there's clearly nothing there.

That said, my opinions should be taken with grains of salt because I also have a lot of personal beef with a redraw like this - that original panel was my phone background for like, 2 years, and the episode it came from is still one of my favorites of all time in spite of all the criticisms I now have of the series, with art that originally inspired me to want to learn how to draw like Rachel.

There's been a lot of evidence over the past year or so to suggest that Rachel has "fallen out of touch" with her own work and these redraws that she's been making lately feel like tangible proof of that. The context in which she created those original panels no longer exists so to try and redraw them fundamentally misses the point of why they were so iconic to begin with.

I can understand that feeling of falling out of touch with your own work, to the point of not even seeing the appeal of it yourself anymore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving forward, not back. The fact that she's still just muddling around with LO stuff despite announcing two more projects and seemingly not making any progress with either the TV show or Rachel Smythe Presents... it really does seem like she's stuck in limbo. The deadlines and contractual obligations aren't there to motivate her anymore, and while that may now have freed her from the burden of creating LO in such a cramped and unhealthy space - now being able to create it simply for herself - I think the years of working on it have definitely taken its toll on her ability to create the way she used to and so we're seeing those growing pains now.

The real bummer about it is that it's being celebrated as "growth" but it's about as much growth as the illustrated environment above - dead and bleak.

[rynwritesreid]

Mind Games~Spencer Reid

Chapter one~Genius 2.O

Chapter summary: You have just graduated from the FBI’s academy and a new member of the BAU’s team. Throughout your time at the academy you had heard so many great stories about the legendary Dr Reid and couldn’t wait to work along side him. However, Dr Reid is not your biggest fan and doesn’t know how to cope with someone being smarter than him.

Chapter warnings: Mention of a case (no details though) Fem! Reader. Angst. Spencer is mean in this and hates reader (though that will change in chapter four).

A/N: This series was requested, and it’s probably going to be the only time I do a requested series “A series where reader works at bau and she's as smart if not smarter then Reid and somehow you pick they end up in a relationship with dom Spencer”. I hope everyone enjoys it, and yes there will be smut in the near future ;).

~mind games masterlist~

~Join the taglist for mind games~

While you were in the academy, you heard all the stories about the genius who worked in BAU called Dr Spencer Reid. He is a man of such high intelligence, with three PH. Ds, an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, one who was well known to show of how smart he is and one who did not easily back down. He is the stuff if legends.

 

You, well you, are also the stuff of legends. You didn’t believe in telling people your IQ score, because you didn’t think it really mattered, but it was high, higher than Spencer’s. You had a photographic memory, which many people often compared to Spencer’s one, but you would have to tell them the difference between an eidetic memory and a photographic memory.

 

You watched all your peers around you talk about what division of the FBI they were applying for, many were going for counterterrorism and financial crimes, but you had your eyes on the BAU. You knew all about how it was a close nit family, how Hotch and Rossi were like fathers to the entire group. You wanted nothing more than to be a part of that team, that family.

 

And so, with a determination fuelled by your own exceptional intellect and a burning desire to join the ranks of the BAU, you set out on a path that would lead you down a road less travelled. While your peers were focusing on their chosen divisions, you dedicated every waking moment to studying the minds of criminals, honing your profiling skills, and pushing the limits of your own mental faculties.

 

Your name was everywhere with in bureau, you were being called the newest genius, one who was going to make a name for herself, and one who was going to take the FBI by storm.

 

Unit Chief Agent Hotchner had heard whispers of your brilliance echoing through the halls of the FBI. He had seen your name pop up on his colleagues' reports, accompanied by glowing praise and commendations. Curiosity piqued, he decided to dig a little deeper, intrigued by the prospect of a new prodigy joining their ranks.

 

Hotchner delved into your background, poring over your academic achievements and accolades. He was astounded by the breadth of your knowledge and the depth of your understanding in various fields. Your impressive IQ score and photographic memory only added to his intrigue. It became clear to him that you possessed a unique blend of intellect and intuition that would be an invaluable asset to the BAU.

 

He knew he had to have you in the BAU, he knew that you, Reid, and Garcia would be an unstoppable force. So, when he saw your application to join his team, he knew you were going to get the job.

 

So, when you got the call, telling you your application had been successful, you couldn’t quite believe that you had landed your dream job.

 *

It was your first day, Hotch was showing you around, who’s desk belong to who, where your desk was. It felt surreal, being in this building, been employed by the FBI, knowing you were going to be working alongside Dr Spencer Reid. 

As Hotch led you through the bustling bullpen, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. The stories you had heard about Dr. Spencer Reid made him almost mythical in your mind, and now you were about to meet him in person.

Finally, Hotch stopped in front of a neatly organized desk and gestured for you to take a seat. "This will be your workspace," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "Make yourself at home."

You settled into the chair, taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere of the room. Each member of the team had their own unique personality reflected in their workspace. Penelope Garcia's desk was adorned with colourful trinkets and gadgets, her vibrant energy apparent even in her absence. 

Spencer’s desk though, it was almost bare, there were a few files and books, but nothing fun, nothing that showed what his personality was like. You couldn't help but be intrigued by the stark contrast between Spencer's desk and the others. It seemed to reflect his focused and analytical nature, an embodiment of his dedication to the work they did at the BAU. As you settled into your chair, your eyes wandered over the shelves filled with books on various subjects - psychology, criminology, philosophy. Each book seemed well-loved and well-worn, evidence of Spencer's insatiable thirst for knowledge.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice that someone had entered the bullpen until Hotch's voice broke through the silence. "Spencer, I'd like you to meet our newest addition," he said, gesturing toward you. 

You stood up, you almost felt star struck, but Spencer didn’t seem to care. He glanced at you with his piercing gaze, his eyes scanning your face as if studying every detail. There was an intensity in his expression that sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of apprehension and fascination in his presence.

"Hello," you managed to say, your voice filled with a nervous tremor. "It's an honour to meet you, Dr. Reid."

Spencer nodded, a slight tilt of the head that conveyed acknowledgement rather than warmth. "Likewise," he replied curtly, his attention already shifting back to the stack of files in his hands.

You couldn't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment at Spencer's aloofness. You had built up this image in your mind of the legendary Dr. Reid, someone who would be eager to share knowledge and engage in stimulating conversations. But here he was, seemingly indifferent to your presence.

Everyone else seemed to love you though, Derek had made a few flirtatious comments, Emily, JJ, and Garcia had invited you to go grab some drinks with them, Hotch and Rossi had told you good coping mechanisms, but Spencer seemed to be annoyed any time you spoke, or laughed, or really did anything. Everyone told you that’s just how he is when he doesn’t know you, but it still hurt.

You were determined to prove yourself to Spencer, to earn his respect and break through the cold exterior he seemed to present. You knew that gaining his trust and acceptance would not come easily, but you were ready to put in the effort.

*

Though the days turned into weeks and then into months, Spencer's demeanour towards you remained unchanged. He continued to keep his distance, always engrossed in his work, rarely acknowledging your presence unless absolutely necessary. It hurt, but you refused to let it deter you from your goal.

You poured yourself into each case, determined to prove your worth to the team. You spent countless hours analysing crime scenes, studying victimology, and delving deep into the minds of the perpetrators. Your keen intuition and sharp analytical skills began catching the attention of your colleagues.

You thought this might change Spencer’s mind about you, but it seemed to make him hate you. JJ had told that Spencer was used to being the smartest, everyone praising him, but you seemed to be smarter than him and that wasn’t something he was used too. But you couldn’t and you wouldn’t change who you are just to make someone feel better about themselves. 

But the tension between you and Spencer continued to simmer beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. It was as if there was an unspoken competition, an invisible battle of intellects that neither of you were willing to back down from.

Despite the strained relationship, the BAU team continued to function like a well-oiled machine. Cases were solved, perpetrators were apprehended, and lives were saved. But there was always that lingering tension between you and Spencer, like an unresolved chord in an otherwise harmonious symphony.

One particularly gruelling case tested the limits of everyone's mental and emotional resilience. The team had been chasing a prolific serial killer who seemed to always be one step ahead. Sleepless nights and relentless hours of research had taken a toll on everyone, yourself included.

You were at your breaking point, not knowing why you couldn’t solve this case, and Spencer’s attitude problem with you was the cherry on top of the cake. You knew you had to say something to him, because you knew you couldn’t carry on like this.

Taking a deep breath, you approached Spencer's desk after everyone else had left for the night. His eyes were glued to the computer screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. This was your chance to address the tension that had been building between you.

"Spencer," you began, your voice firm but gentle. "We need to talk."

He glanced up at you, his expression guarded but curious. "What about?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of scepticism.

“You have an issue with me, and I know you are used to being the smartest person in any room you walk in to, everyone looking up to you as a God. But maybe you should get use to someone been on the same level as you”. 

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, a mix of surprise and irritation crossing his features. "I don't have an issue with you," he retorted, his voice laced with defensiveness.

You took a step closer, determined to make him see the truth. "You do, Spencer. Ever since I joined the team, you've treated me like an annoyance, like I'm intruding on your territory. But I'm not here to compete with you or undermine your intelligence. I'm here to work together, to bring justice to those who deserve it."

“God, you think you’re better than everyone else don’t you, Y/N. You’re not, you act like everyone should worship the ground you walk on. I bet you were top of your class in the academy, got straight A’s all throughout your school life, but that doesn’t matter now. You are not as clever as you think you are.”

Spencer's words cut deep, slicing through the tension between you with a sharpness that left you momentarily speechless.

“That’s what you think about me? You think I believe I am better than everyone, but I don’t. But I know you do, your outbursts are common knowledge Spencer, or that fact you love to rub it everyone’s faces that you have a doctorate.” You basically shouted this at him.

Spencer's steely gaze locked onto yours, his face a mask of disbelief mixed with anger. "You don't know anything about me," he snapped, his voice dripping with venom.

You felt tears starting to form in your eyes, you knew you couldn’t be around him any longer tonight. Turning on your heel, you made a swift exit from the bullpen, unable to bear the weight of the confrontation any longer. The familiar corridors of the BAU headquarters blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat, the weight of Spencer's words heavy on your shoulders.

As you found solace in a quiet corner of the building, your tears streamed down your face, mingling with the frustration, and hurt that consumed you. The confrontation with Spencer had left you feeling vulnerable and doubting your place on the team. It was hard to fathom how someone you once idolized could turn out to be so cold and dismissive.

There was a small part of you that wished you had never applied for this job, or you had been rejected. You didn’t want to quit, you wanted to prove Spencer wrong, but you knew you couldn’t do that with the state you are in. But this wasn’t over, and you would do everything you could to solve this case, and make Spencer like you, or at least be kinder to you.

~Taglist~

@bitchassbecky691 @iluvreid @drspencerreidsthings @amatheuni@i-heart-mgg @Liidiaaag@wyntersstuff@brilliantreid @donttrustlove@btsiguess-kpop @bellesmith628 @lunaticgurly @Oureternalbond@somethingsmart123

[too-fond-to-be-fearful]

Been thinking recently about the goings-on with Duolingo & AI, and I do want to throw my two cents in, actually.

There are ways in which computers can help us with languages, certainly. They absolutely should not be the be-all and end-all, and particularly for any sort of professional work I am wholly in favour of actually employing qualified translators & interpreters, because there's a lot of important nuances to language and translation (e.g. context, ambiguity, implied meaning, authorial intent, target audience, etc.) that a computer generally does not handle well. But translation software has made casual communication across language barriers accessible to the average person, and that's something that is incredibly valuable to have, I think.

Duolingo, however, is not translation software. Duolingo's purpose is to teach languages. And I do not think you can be effectively taught a language by something that does not understand it itself; or rather, that does not go about comprehending and producing language in the way that a person would.

Whilst a language model might be able to use probability & statistics to put together an output that is grammatically correct and contextually appropriate, it lacks an understanding of why, beyond "statistically speaking, this element is likely to come next". There is no communicative intent behind the output it produces; its only goal is mimicking the input it has been trained on. And whilst that can produce some very natural-seeming output, it does not capture the reality of language use in the real world.

Because language is not just a set of probabilities - there are an infinite array of other factors at play. And we do not set out only to mimic what we have seen or heard; we intend to communicate with the wider world, using the tools we have available, and that might require deviating from the realm of the expected.

Often, the most probable output is not actually what you're likely to encounter in practice. Ungrammatical or contextually inappropriate utterances can be used for dramatic or humorous effect, for example; or nonstandard linguistic styles may be used to indicate one's relationship to the community those styles are associated with. Social and cultural context might be needed to understand a reference, or a linguistic feature might seem extraneous or confusing when removed from its original environment.

To put it briefly, even without knowing exactly how the human brain processes and produces language (which we certainly don't), it's readily apparent that boiling it down to a statistical model is entirely misrepresentative of the reality of language.

And thus a statistical model is unlikely to be able to comprehend and assist with many of the difficulties of learning a language.

A statistical model might identify that a learner misuses some vocabulary more often than others; what it may not notice is that the vocabulary in question are similar in form, or in their meaning in translation. It might register that you consistently struggle with a particular grammar form; but not identify that the root cause of the struggle is that a comparable grammatical structure in your native language is either radically different or nonexistent. It might note that you have trouble recalling a common saying, but not that you lack the cultural background needed to understand why it has that meaning. And so it can identify points of weakness; but it is incapable of addressing them effectively, because it does not understand how people think.

This is all without considering the consequences of only having a singular source of very formal, very rigid input to learn from, unable to account for linguistic variation due to social factors. Without considering the errors still apparent in the output of most language models, and the biases they are prone to reproducing. Without considering the source of their data, and the ethical considerations regarding where and how such a substantial sample was collected.

I understand that Duolingo wants to introduce more interactivity and adaptability to their courses (and, I suspect, to improve their bottom line). But I genuinely think that going about it in this way is more likely to hinder than to help, and wrongfully prioritises the convenience of AI over the quality and expertise that their existing translators and course designers bring.

[eaudera]

eaudera's detailed tutorial for skin rendering

okay loves i've put together a tutorial in text form detailing my step by step process of shading darker skin + the brushes and techniques I use and why I use them. you will be following along as we shade a piece together, you can find the lineart to the piece here. *turn off your true tone and night shift displays for the most objective viewing.

i wrote a lot on the preview pictures, if you find spelling errors (which you def will) or are unable to read my handwriting, you'll find the typed out version of the writing in the alt text feature.

disclaimer: i'm not an art professor nor am i academically/classically trained in art. a lot of the verbiage and techniques i'm using to teach you all here are from my current self taught and observed understanding of art, light, and anatomy

support me: kofi / ig / twt / commissions

firstly, here are my two staple brushes. you can find the second brush here, i modified it by making it larger.

the lineart brush is very good for easy sketching and simultaneously cleaning up that sketch to produce the final lineart you'll be using in your piece. the diffusion from the erased parts/the diffusion created by lowering the pressure of your pen creates a light graphite effect which i enjoy! give it a shot.

you'll notice quickly that there are lighter strokes throughout this lineart, these are simply acting as rendering guides for me in order to remember certain placements. i erase/draw over these lines a lot.

i initially learned to shade skin on a completely grey background with very slight orange undertones, and for a while this was very helpful in providing the most objective view of the base colors you're using (objective as in free of being effected by colors of different values). as you might know, using a white background for dark skin will seemingly darken the value and dim the vibrancy of your base colors, and using a black background will do the opposite. if you're using a darker skin tone, you want your canvas shade to be of a value that is proportional to your skin tone to avoid the same problems created by colors with too light or dark of a value. now if you're using a screened device to draw, you have the extra burden of screen reflections/wavering color output on different screens, so you're never really sure if the exact color you're using will be consistent across the board. priming your canvas with neutral colors will help with that. whereas priming with more vibrant colors will slightly change the undertone of your skintone (especially if you're using a low opacity brush), but it makes for a funner canvas and more creativity with your color palette imo. if you're a beginner i recommend you stay below the wavy line to avoid too light of a canvas shade.

for these same reasons i avoid keeping my lineart jet black. when you lay down the base colors under a black lineart it can look very unfavorable.

here are some skin tone variants that i tend to use the most, peep how i never wander off too far to the left of the spectrum where the reds are. i definitely favor red-oranges as compared to green-oranges for my skin tones, however, because i stay primarily on the left side of the color spectrum for my rendering, red can quickly become too much too fast. so i make sure to use a skin tone that can work very well with green-orange shadows. for this specific piece i will use the third shade (#2d1606).

heres where the gouache brush comes in handy. i use it very loosely to "prime" the canvas almost. if you've ever done oil painting you'll realize very few artists draw directly onto a completely white canvas, though i've already primed my canvas essentially by changing the background color, i loosely shade over it with the skin tone color using the gouache brush. i find this gives me a better grasp on the composition of the piece due to increased harmony between the canvas and the skin color. it also looks really cool to me and resembles a real canvas almost.

as stated before, priming your canvas with neutral colors (grey) can help give you a more consistent view of your base colors, when you get the hang of understanding the colors you most often use (i.e, how they interact with other colors), you can start using more vibrant and fun colors to color your canvas with! the gouache brush changes opacity depending on the pressure exerted by the pen, if you zoom in you'll notice patchy areas where the canvas color bleeds through the layer more prominently than it does in other areas. for some people this might throw off the consistency of the shadows, but you should be fine as long as you're using a consistently opaque brush (which we will be doing)

i know i recommended beginners use a grey canvas like i did, but since this tutorial is using my techniques i figured i'd also teach you guys how to use variantly opaque brushes to your advantage. we will be drawing on the pink canvas from here on out.

a reference is so helpful, i still rely on references to guide my shadows/lights. i'm past the point of relying on references for exact coordinates for rendering or lineart, but they are still incredibly helpful. in most references of darker skintones you come across, color dropping directly from the picture will give you very grey colors! we want to prioritize vibrancy in this case, so attempt to formulate your own colors or colordrop and increase the vibrancy :)! keep in mind i'm now using the lineart brush to shade. the diffuse/soft corners of this brush allows fewer pixels to be scattered wherever you lessen the pressure, this is perfect for color dropping medium colors to blend two colors together. you'll see how i blend colors later on.

as mentioned previously, red can become too much too fast- so i avoid monochrome rendering as much as possible by using shadows of different undertones. my most frequent combination is using a red-orange skin tone and then using a green-orange shadow.

the value spectrum will be your best friend in mixing values and undertones, i use it all the time to formulate the best less saturated darker shadow that is proportional (not too dark, not too grey) to my skintone value. if the shadow is too green simply increase the magenta, if you're looking for a "reflective" shadow, increase the blue.

when i begin shading, i always slide the curser to a truer orange color on the spectrum and increase the saturation (slide towards the right) while i decrease the brightness (slide down). heres how it looks when i'm jumping between shadows and highlights while trying to keep my colors proportional (but not identical) to whats happening in the reference ^. i most often times will rely on the value tool, however.

you will notice that a lot of darker skin tones have patches of orange vibrancy, these areas are most common on the nose and cheeks. this is only a detail to pay attention to if you're going for more of a realism rendering style :)

now onto how i prefer to bridge/blend colors together by utilizing the blend tool.

i do not like simply blurring colors in order to blend colors together, it can lead to overblending which can make your portrait look heavily gaussian blurred (think 2010 deviantart art... yea that). the brilliant thing about procreate is you can utilize brushes really efficiently, which include changing the brushes you use for blending. so in reality, artists who use the blending tool on its own can still have portraits that don't look it! there also exists plenty of brushes that have properties allowing it to blend into its surrounding colors are you draw. but in my case, the above photo is 99% of the times how i will bridge two colors together. doing this allows me to keep pretty consistent brushstrokes across the whole portrait, which i enjoy. it also gives me better control of the shapes i use in my rendering, an aspect that is pretty easy to lose when you're using the blending tool directly and solely.

in case the blending process is a bit hard too see, heres that same process recreated with different more visible colors:

now once you've placed your shadows where they generally tend to be (according to the reference photo), let's make those shapes a bit more specific and pick up on smaller details to make your rendering look more complete.

your base colors will never be as dark or as light as you need them to be when you begin rendering, making sure you have a decent contrast between your lightsource highlights and the shadows is key to capturing the essence of a light being cast on your character. it's much easier to keep building upon your shadows before rendering the highlights, i laid down the highlights only to create a guide/help me map my shadows better. do not darken the entirety of the areas affected by shadow, you'll find that shadows are rarely ever the same value, it's a gradual process affected by things like position, height, etc. so make sure the darkest of your shadow colors are preserved only in areas where the shadows are the or should be the darkest.

you'll notice i labeled some areas as "detail", adding very specific shadow placements is a detail. in the reference, the model has a pretty prominent brow bone, creating a shadow over where his eyelid creases just above his lash line, paying attention to feature details like this help enhance the rendering and its realism.

now that i've mapped my shadows i'm going to move onto to rendering my highlights and the region of the face where the lightsource is most prominent.

i described shadows as a gradual process earlier, this is because of the lightsource. light tends to spread when its further from the affected surface, creating a larger area affected by the light. of course, this varies depending on how intense and how close/far the light source is. in this case, the light is being casted above him further to the other side of his face, but again, remember that the face is not 2d and more prominent areas are affected more by light. it's due to this that there still exists a, albeit very minimal, shadow beneath his cheekbone. i exaggerate the shadow here for stylistic purposes, but it also helps in keeping me uphold that contrast between the highlight and shadow once again. so i refrain from blending the light into this area like i did in other areas.

midtones are the areas most unaffected by the light source, they're neither shadows nor highlights. and because light spreads, it is brighter in certain areas and darker in others. it is most easiest to blend the darker ends of the highights into the midtones of your portrait. you can emulate this by once again using your blend tool. blend the outer areas of the light and colordrop this color and use it as the darker light more proportional to the midtones. note that before i add even lighter shades to the areas where light is most concentrated, i blend what highlight placements i currently have there.

we're going to switch gears now and focus on the reflective shadow occurring on the darker half of his face.

this shadow is a reflection from the lighter background the model is up against, the light being casted above him is allowing for some bounce back from his surroundings, leading to very faint light visible in areas primarily affected by shadows. hence why i'm referring to these colors as "reflective shadows".

in this case, the reflective shadows are blue, or appear to our eyes as blue. on darker skin, "true" blues (blue-purple) are not often times present. what is present rather, is a very grey tone with cool undertones/a grey tone on the blue side of the spectrum, which creates a blue that is much more proportional to the value of the skintone than a true blue. in this case i used a deeper grey on the pink color spectrum, which is more purple. this was intentional, and was done in order to create some sort of color harmony between the contrasted deep oranges im using for the bordering shadows and the blue-grey i'm attempting to emulate.

while i utilize this blue-grey, out've a purely stylistic choice, i still introduce true blues to my rendering. in fact i love using blue/purple reflective shadows in my art, it creates a stunning and colorful render. in this case, i used the blue-grey as a stepping stool to introduce that trueer blue more naturally. you'll see this happening in the second picture above, where i used a slightly more vibrant and slightly more brighter blue, and used it on areas where this reflection was more prominent (and therefore brighter).

you'll notice how the shadows that border on these reflective colors are less saturated and darker than the shadows on his chin. introduce a darker and less saturated (more green) shadow to that area on his cheek and the darkest shadow of this photo, the sunken area near his nose bridge and inner eye corner. i emphasize this line in the lineart so you can follow this shadow more accurately:

this is also a detail in my opinion and can make your portrait more realistic if you include.

we're going to pivot to his neck area before continuing. you'll find the area of his neck with the most light is also the least vibrant, i laid down a grey base color to emphasize this detail in the portrait. afterwards i added key details. i wanted to stay at least somewhat true to the color dynamics occurring in the reference hence why i used the grey, but i'm not a very big fan of using blatant grey directly on the skin, so i made it more blue.

moving forward, the outer eye and the nose can be some of the most "detail focused" areas of the face when it comes to rendering. due to their more "bulbous" anatomy, light tends to curve around them in more complex ways than the flatter parameters of the face.

when it comes to the many creases that surround the eye, the skin folding over itself creates a very thin shadow from between the folds. the key to rendering this crease is to concentrate the blending to a very small scale, do not overblend the area because the hill created by the crease very easily captures light, creating an area where the shadow and highlight meet in very close proximity. slight blending is needed for this area, you can deepen the shadows in both horizontal corners of the eye for more accuracy. the midsection of the total eye area (eyeball and socket) tends to capture the most light, remember this is due to how bulbous rounder shapes tend to capture light from whichever direction its coming from.

this is of course the case for the nose as well. highlights are typically placed as a dot on the outermost part of the nose by artists, but highlights also spread on either side of the tip of the nose. the nose tends to collect a lot of oil, creating a sort of sheen on the upper parts of the nostril. when rendering a portrait where the position of the head is more cast to the side, the highlight of the nose changes from the bulb of the nose, to the upper nostril. in this case, the highlight spreads, causing a "half tone", or the remnants of the light on the bulb of the nose. this is the easiest place to blend highlights and shadows together. now for the shadow detailing on the nose, i'm actually drawing on top of the lineart on a separate layer. which i'll go into detail about in the next part. you want to focus the shadow on where your lineart is, the outermost part of the nose.

now were going to really detail your portrait by introducing a new layer, the detail layer! this isn't technically apart of the skin rendering, so i'm gonna keep it very brief. this is the layer you're going to render the lips, eyeballs, and eyebrows. more specifically, the purpose of this layer is to reduce the reliance on lineart. in terms of order, it goes above the lineart layer. we're going to soften and even erase the lineart in certain aspects. i use bolder/thicker lines when creating my lineart, but this can become a nuisance/hinderance when rendering.

starting out with the lips:

people w brown skin tend to have two toned lips, with the top lip resembling the same skin tone as the face and the bottom lip being redder/pinker and lighter than the upper lip. in my case, i prefer a more vibrant red for the bottom lip. once i lay down these base colors, i begin shading on the second layer.

i personally enjoy the look of a poutier lip shape, this includes emphasizing the middles of the lips as opposed to the ends. i've highlighted the shapes that this lip shape often entails. the small circles on the corner of the lip line are just pockets that occur when the mouth is closed and become emphasized by the fat around the mouth. the parameters of the lip lines do not often meet these round corners, theres often times a "double lip line", that exists around these areas. i love including that in the art, its very easy to emphasize by simply drawing a highlight from the corner of the lips along the curvature of the bottom lip towards the middle.

shadow mapping on the lips tend to go: highlight, shadow, highlight, shadow. the top lip going inward creates a highlight on the most outward part: the top of the lip. and the bottom lip curving outward thus creates a shadow on the bottom of the lip.

when it comes to the eyeball, i don't draw the white parts as solid white, nor do i make them too bright most of the time. they're most often times an orange grey, i also dont spread this color out if you can notice the uncolored white part of the eye. i do this intentionally to keep some of the shadows that are naturally present on the eye. very specifically right where the upper eyelid sits on the eyeball, it tends to create a small shadow that follows the curvature of the eye. this shadow is crucial, if you can see the first and second picture do not have this shadow, making the iris look more exposed and the eye appears to be held wider.

when it comes to the iris, i do very little. if i'm drawing a dark colored eye i will cover the entire iris brown, before darkening it with an almost black color. i leave the brown sides of the iris exposed to aid in bridging the values between the whiter parts of the eye and the very dark iris. this blended ring also appears on all eyes in real life. lastly, dark eyes tend to show light reflections much easier than lighter eyes. these reflections can be any color in art, in this case i kept it blue-green. i bend these reflections around where the pupil would most likely be depending on the drawing.

next, the eyebrow. i find it tedious to draw individual eyebrow strands when it comes to rendering, i actually prefer to blend the parameters of the eyebrows to create cohesiveness. sparse and fine eyebrow hairs are penetrated by light and shadows more than what you'd find on the scalp. it's harder to see light on someones scalp due to the bulk of hair crowding the scalp, whereas as its easier to see such light on the eyebrow. to introduce this concept to my art, i will initially draw the entire shape of the brow. then when rendering, i erase the parameters, leaving the darkest part of the brow. then i blend. the lower brow bone will be blended the least, whereas the area of the eyebrow connected to the T zone will be the most blended thanks to the shadow following the nose bridge. the far end of the brow by the hairline tends to be the lightest given the light source.

and lastly, i loosely draw a white border around the portrait for stylistic purposes. then i combine the layers (group together your layers, then duplicate and compress the duplicate group so that you still retain your individual layers) to edit. i typically add noise and play with the curve setting. and heres the finished image:

i hope you enjoyed!!

[flowerandblood]

The Knight & The Judge

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination and humiliation kink, description of physical and mental disabilities, prejudices against disabled people, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, trauma, mention of an accident with fatalities ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

On that day it seemed to him that the whole world had turned against him. His coffee machine had broken down, there was more traffic than usual on the roads, he was sure he would be late for work, and his brother had woken up in a mood worse than always and cried all the way to the centre.

"I don't want to go there. I-I'm scared of some of those kids." He muttered under his breath, swallowing loudly, whooping with tears. He looked at him in the mirror, feeling a squeeze in his throat every morning when he left him there, but saw no other alternative.

He still hadn't recovered mentally after what had happened five years ago and, according to his psychiatrist, he wasn't ready to attend a normal school until he gained more confidence.

He did not want to force him to listen to unpleasant comments, however, he felt uncomfortable himself.

The centre was huge, classes were taught in different groups of matched children, however, there were times when Daeron encountered kids with a spectrum of disabilities other than physical and was simply afraid of them.

He tried to explain it to him, but how was a child supposed to understand these complicated, sometimes even uncontrollable behaviours and screams?

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, turning on the right indicator with his hand, driving into the car park of the building where he would leave him for the time he spent at work, during which he studied and had various extra classes with children with problems similar to his.

However, was he to surround himself all his life only with children who had mobility problems, who had no arms or legs, who suffered from paresis or lack of feeling in their limbs?

Every time he thought about it he wanted to cry.

He turned off the engine, staring dully ahead, hearing his mother's screams again in the background of his mind as his father fainted behind the wheel and drove off the road into the other lane – he felt once again that hard crash with the big truck coming from the opposite direction that crushed them.

They were only alive because they were in the back seats at the time, Daeron, however, was not as lucky as he was.

Compared to what happened to his younger brother, the glass that smashed into the left side of his face was nothing.

"Mrs Thomson said you can't spend all day at home doing one-to-one tuition. You have to see other children." He calmly repeated the formula he said whenever such a situation arose, opening his door, heading for the boot of his big black SUV – the car dealership had told him it was the safest and biggest model they had.

He took out the small wheelchair that had been put together and unfolded it, driving it closer, to the back seat where his brother sat, opening it – he looked away, unable to watch his brother's weeping face.

"I'm already late for work. Please. I promise we'll play FIFA' 23 together when we get back. Hm?" He muttered, and Daeron nodded, pale, breathing loudly, using his hands to move slowly towards the wheelchair onto which he shifted the weight of his body, hissing loudly as he lifted his legs onto the special supports.

The bones of his little legs had been simply crushed then – he continued to grow, the rehabilitation was hard and caused him great pain.

He would have preferred it to be him who suffered like this and not an innocent child, but God, who he wasn't sure he still believed in despite the deep faith his mother had always instilled in him, decided otherwise.

He closed the car and moved with him to the main entrance, pushing his wheelchair forward. When they got inside they were greeted by a lady they knew very well, several of his friends waved to Daeron, one of them was paralysed from the waist down, the other was missing one arm.

He swallowed loudly, thinking that his brother had to watch someone else's misfortune every day, himself for sure feeling like a cripple, like someone defective, someone who was a burden, even though he loved him the most in the world.

The cruelty of the situation left him with a clenched throat, so he would usually only throw him a few words to say goodbye, stroke his head and leave, only by the car tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, his healthy eye burning from the moisture that gathered under his eyelids.

As he always did in moments of breakdown, he started the engine, selected the number of his sister phone on the display under his dashboard and, turning on loudspeaker mode, started backing his car as he tried to drive out of the car park and drove ahead towards the national prosecutor's office.

"Hello? Aemond, did something happen?"

He heard Helaena's soft, sleepy voice. He knew she was still doing overtime as a doctor, overworking herself as much as he was and thought that he had woken her up after the night shift.

He felt remorse for not being able to handle it himself, although she always reassured him that she would always help him as best she could.

She got Daeron the best possible physiotherapist so that he was even able to take a few steps in the last month while holding on to his supports, however it still caused him great pain, the doctors said his bones would continue to hurt as long as he grew.

Perpetual undeserved suffering.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He says he is afraid of some of the children, those with intellectual disabilities. I know it's cruel, but fuck, I'd be scared of some of them too. Do they have to see each other in the same building, pass each other in the corridor? Shouldn't they be separated somehow?"

"God, Aemond, they're not animals. After all, they're children too." She said with sadness and resentment – he clenched his eye, sighing impatiently, trying to focus on the road again, tense.

"I know. I know. I really feel for them, but it's bad for his psyche. He recently asked me if he was normal, if he too would start shouting and babbling like them. That sometimes they are aggressive and the carers have to drag them away from him and his friends."

"It's horrible. Maybe he really should go there less often?" She asked sighing quietly, he heard her rise up on the bed with a quiet creak of the mattress.

"And what, he's going to sit at home with some boring old teacher? How will I know that no harm comes to him in my absence?" He asked resignedly, hearing silence on the other side for some time.

"Maybe find someone who won't be very distant in age. Someone who won't just teach him, but play with him and spend time with him. Someone old enough to be responsible for him and at the same time young enough not to feel so distant. Someone joyful." She replied, and he rolled his eyes as he drove into the underground car park of his office building.

"Joyful? I am supposed to pay someone to be joyful?" He sneered, shaking his head, his sister sighed again.

"He needs it, Aemond. We're all tired, and he's a child."

He hung up after a few minutes of further discussion, telling her he had to go, grabbed the case folders he'd just brought in and headed for the underground lift. He pressed the button showing the floor he wanted to move to when a woman's hand stopped the sliding doors, which opened a moment later.

Alys smiled broadly at him as she stepped inside with a confident stride – her high black heels emphasised how slender and long her legs were, her fitted, waist high pencil trousers and black blazer with a beautiful white shirt underneath highlighted both her confidence and her attractiveness.

He remembered the last few times the thrusts of his hips had pushed her into her desk, bent over and helpless, with firm, wide buttocks on which he tightened his fingers as he panted heavily, watching what he was doing to her, rooting into her again and again, thinking with mockery and amusement how easy it was to make a mere whore out of such a proud woman.

"Good morning, Mr Prosecutor." She said softly, contentment and calmness on her face, several of their intense close-ups had clearly left an intense mark in her, not just physical.

She liked the violent and determined ones, he knew that – she hid her age well and apparently decided that this was the last moment in her life when she could reach for what she wanted.

"Good morning, Miss Rivers." He replied calmly, uninterested in her ambiguous look, apparently suggesting that she wouldn't mind if what happened between them was repeated a few more times.

He was all about the sex. He was frustrated in this aspect – his artificial eye, although perfectly colour-matched to the other and the still clearly visible scar from where the glass pierced in, were a source of his complexes and shame.

He knew that no matter how perfect a professional he was, it was his appearance that made the first impression.

In the courtroom he still struggled to be taken seriously so much so that his cold, calculating, ruthless nature began to frighten some – his judgement and questioning was harsh and lacking in compassion.

He knew exactly what he wanted and strove to get it.

He preferred them to fear him rather than pity him.

His superiors quickly appreciated how skilful a lawyer he was and his ability to bring cases to an end and push whoever he needed to, hence he quickly moved to the National Prosecutor's Office, where more responsibilities and more money awaited him, which he could spend on Daeron's rehabilitation.

As he sat over the files he thought hard about what his sister had told him and decided that he would install CCTV in the house and then hire someone on a trial basis to see if it made sense.

He put up an anonymous job ad not wanting anyone to recognise him, described briefly his broad expectations and his rate per hour.

It turned out that dozens of people responded to his ad, just as he suspected attracted by the sum he had quoted, but he didn't know how he was supposed to sort them to choose the ones that seemed best to him. He began to read their answers, figuring that already from them he could deduce what types of personalities they were.

I am interested. My phone number is below.

Reject, he thought, clicking the red button informing the message sender that his offer was not accepted, and began to scroll further.

I am a carer with 10 years of experience. I have already cared for 14-year-old Mike with cerebral palsy, Adam with….

Reject, he clicked again.

He had no intention of making his home a second centre for the disabled.

He felt frustration and rage when he found that most of the messages were similar and just as empty in their tone, nothing convinced him about these people.

He knew Daeron wouldn't want to stay with them, and neither would he.

He stopped at one of the messages that looked completely different and blinked.

Good morning! I saw your ad and thought I would speak up. I'm a student, I'm studying costume design at the Faculty of Fine Arts. I'm looking for a casual job and I really enjoy working with children, I teach dressmaking as part of the teaching section of my university classes. I think that helping your brother with his studies at primary school level would be no problem for me at all, and I would also be happy to come up with different extra-curricular activities with him. Even if you decide not to hire me, I would like to sew your brother a costume of his favourite super hero, without any payment of course. You would just have to give me his measurements. I don't think anything makes kids his age happier!!! My warmest regards and I am sending my email below.

He looked at her message not too sure how he felt, at the same time being impressed, on the other hand feeling the seed of uncertainty and extreme caution characteristic of him when it came to his approach to newly met people.

What if this was a psychological tactic to make him believe her to be innocent and unselfish? To make him subconsciously choose her because she was the only one offering him something for free? If it was just her free promotion?

He chose two people reluctantly, but kept coming back to her message, trying to imagine her, seeing some crazy painting student looking like a hippie.

Maybe this was just what he needed? He thought with regret and sighed heavily, opening a new window in his inbox, writing her a short, brief email to appear at their house in a few days' time.

He was going to interrogate her.

The young man before her immediately made him uneasy – he had the impression that he smelled weed from him even though he had taken a shower, so he must have been smoking like crazy, and he had no intention of letting anyone who might encourage him to use any stimulants look after his brother.

The other girl was very frightened – his questions clearly startled her and made her uncomfortable, it frustrated him that she was barely able to make a sound. He thought she had something to hide, that people who have a clear conscience don't behave this way.

He thought with resignation that all he had left was a mad artist.

He sighed heavily as he heard the bell ring suggesting that someone was standing outside the gate. He walked over to the intercom and opened it, seeing in the small monitor a petite girl with dark, slightly wavy hair tied up in a ponytail.

He thought in disbelief that she was dressed for a job interview in a white turtleneck, dungarees and trainers, a fabric floral back on her back.

What the fuck, he thought, opening her door with a cold, indifferent expression on his face.

"Good afternoon." She said softly, a wide smile on her face. Before she walked in she wiped her shoes on the doormat, which pleased him. When she came inside she wanted to take off her trainers – he looked at her surprised, thinking she must be crazy.

"No, you don't have to. You can stay in your shoes." He said lowly, pointing towards the armchair, indicating to her with his hand the seat on the couch next to him.

She sat down in the seat he showed her, looking boldly straight into his eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

She was clearly a tad nervous after all, he thought, musing for a moment that she had incredibly long, dark eyelashes.

"Do you have experience in working with children?" He asked immediately; she blinked and corrected herself in her seat, as if prepared for the question.

"Only in terms of working with them in sewing workshops." She answered simply, without any further explanation, which pleased him.

She was letting him draw his own conclusions, rather than imposing them on him so as to present herself in the most favourable light.

"My brother has mobility problems. How do you imagine helping him, for example, if he needs to go to the bathroom?"

"I think he's old enough that he can tell me himself what he'll need help with and what he won't, and what he'll feel comfortable for me to help him with and when he'll want me to leave." She said without thinking, shrugging her shoulders as if it was obvious. He squinted, intrigued that she was allowing herself to say unthoughtful things in front of him, as if she wasn't afraid of the consequences they might bring.

"And your studies? How will you have so much time to come here?"

"From what I understand, I would be expected to turn up on Tuesdays and Thursdays from eight in the morning until sixteen. I have practice classes then, the costumes I'm sewing I can bring with me and finish them while he's eating or watching something, maybe he'll even like it and want to practice with me?"

"What will you do if I don't hire you?" He asked dryly and she looked at him surprised, a light smile on her face indicating that his words didn't worry her.

"Then I will continue to work in the café. But my words about the superhero costume stand. Even if I can't work for you, sir, I would like to meet him and give him something. Children can be so brave." She said softly with sincere, bright joy and some kind of pride, as if Daeron was her brother and not his, something in her innocence, something in her attitude endeared him.

He could smell a lie a mile away, she wouldn't be able to pretend so well even if she were an actress.

These reactions were natural, she was saying exactly what she was thinking about.

"I will contact you once I have made my decision." He said indifferently, getting up from his seat and pointing with his hand towards the exit, suggesting that their conversation was over.

She stood up and smiled, undaunted by his behaviour or the length of their conversation. Both of them flinched when Daeron appeared in the living room, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with a light flick of his hand.

"Good afternoon. Who is this lady?" His younger brother asked him, obvious curiosity on his face. He swallowed loudly and glanced at her – she answered nothing but waved at him vigorously, Daeron smiled shyly and waved her back, embarrassed.

"No one. I needed to talk to her." He replied, opening the door for her. She said a polite goodbye to him and his brother, waving at him once more, Daeron waved her back again, looking at him with questioning eyes as he closed it.

"I like her. She seems fun."

With no other choice, he decided he would give her a chance.

The first day she was to be left alone with Daeron he was all nerves despite the fact that his little brother hadn't seemed this excited to him in many years. He told him about his toys and the cartoons he was going to show her.

"First the lessons. Then two hours to play and free time." He replied dryly, tense, glancing at his watch, thinking with rage that she only had fifteen minutes left, that she was sure to be late or not come and leave him in the lurch when he had already cancelled his presence at the centre's classes.

They both flinched when they heard the bell ring; Daeron said, moving briskly forward in his wheelchair that he wanted to open for her and indeed, after a moment the girl he had hired appeared on the doorstep of their house, smiling and content – her cheeks flushed again, her dark hair loose, pleasantly framing her bright face, on her body only a black top and tracksuit shorts as it was a sunny, warm spring morning.

"Good morning, Daeron, nice to meet you!" She said with fondness and satisfaction in her voice, extending her hand in front of her, which his brother shook confidently. Daeron moved ahead of her, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Come, I'll show you my room. I'll explain everything to you." He said, rolling his wheelchair up to the door, which was located on the ground floor of their house so that he could move around easily. The girl nodded, pulling her trainers off her feet, saying that she will come to him in a minute.

He took the opportunity to walk up to her, towering over her, and she threw him a quick surprised look.

He thought her eyes seemed even bigger than before, he wasn't sure if they were blue or green, both colours blending into one.

"You are to take care of him. I want you to go through all the material that was prepared for today. Only two hours of free time, no more. Behave responsibly and only call if it's really urgent or if something happens to him." He said matter-of-factly, and she swallowed quietly, nodding quickly, clearly horrified by how close he stood and how cold his voice was.

Good, he thought.

He wanted her to be afraid of the consequences of her actions.

He sat in the office all day terrified, stressed and unsure, trying to focus on the file in front of him, while involuntarily still glancing at his phone, checking to see if she might have called him.

Was everything okay? What if something had happened but she was afraid to call him? Maybe he should go home and test her, see what was going on?

He thought he would go mad if he didn't, so he left work an hour early – Alys threw something at him as he walked past her, probably something about a meeting or an evening out together, but he didn't answer her, heading for the stairs and the underground car park.

He drove forward, trying to calm himself down, thinking about how oversensitive he was, that surely everything was fine.

He pulled up in front of their house hearing music in the distance, wondering if any of the neighbours were having a party outside at this hour.

However, as he pressed the key to the gate and it slowly swung open he saw in disbelief the girl he had hired riding with lightness and grace on roller skates in his driveway to the tune of the Scissor Sisters song Don't Feel Like Dancin. Daeron laughed out loud, spinning beside her in his wheelchair, both of them wearing elbow and knee pads, in addition to his little brother wearing a bike helmet on his head.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He got out of the car, furiously slamming the door, his brother wheeled up to him briskly, his companion spinning slowly around them on roller skates – she raised her eyebrows with a smile, seeing the look on his face and waved at him.

"Look how well I dance, brother!" Exclaimed Daeron, spinning the wheels of his wheelchair around his own axis again.

He, however, instead of looking at him grabbed aggressively the arm of his carer who was doing another spin – she nearly fell over because of his tug and caught him abruptly by his jacket in an attempt to catch her balance.

"Ah!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what I pay you for?" He growled and shook her hard. She stared at him with wide-open eyes, her lips slightly parted in accelerated breathing from fear, her face red from exertion, strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Let me go, sir. I will not speak to you like this." She said warningly, her brow furrowed. He pressed his lips together noticing that something had changed in her gaze, suddenly confident and angry, ready to fight if necessary.

He felt that look in his trousers, he'd never had the urge to slap a woman's ass as hard as hers before.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him in horror, only realising after a moment that the song had long since ended and there was a tense, awkward silence around them.

He let go of her arm, seeing with satisfaction that he had left a bruise on her skin in the shape of his fingers – she massaged at the spot, furrowing her brow.

"You're fired. You're irresponsible. Good thing I came back earlier." He said with mockery and fury, walking over to his brother, unbuckling the helmet he wore on his head. Daeron burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"I don't want to. I don't want to, I don't want to go back there, I want to stay with her. It's my fault, I told her I wanted to dance, please, please, please, I want her to stay, I don't want to go back there." He babbled, running his hands over his shoulders in some helpless, childish pleading gesture from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her gaze fixed on his little brother, sad and resigned – she was leaning over, untying the laces of the roller skates that had once belonged to his sister.

"Something could have happened to you. You could have fallen over and hit your head on the ground." He replied coldly, kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his knee pads.

"But I had a helmet on my head. After all, normal boys fall off bikes and stairs and they're fine! Nothing would have happened if I'd bruised myself a bit, I'm not made of glass!" He burst out suddenly with a fury he had never seen in him before, burying his little face in his hands, all red from tears and despair.

"I won't go back there, I won't go there tomorrow, if she doesn't stay, never, never again, I'd rather kill myself!" He whined out loud, falling into another attack of hysteria in recent months – he had trouble catching his breath, his lungs were wheezing all over. He took his face in his hands, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.

God, why?

"Remember what I told you?" She asked walking up to his brother in just her socks, kneeling beside him, grasping his hand. Daeron immediately fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes.

"That boy who calls you Quasimodo is just mean. You are my Phoebus, you have his beautiful hair, humour and valour. I'll sew us costumes and we'll go to the carnival ball together. His jaw will drop when he sees that you came with your Esmeralda. What do you say?" She asked softly, and he looked at her in disbelief, wondering if that was the reason his little brother didn't want to go there.

That boy who calls you Quasimodo.

He felt a twitch in his throat and swallowed loudly, his brother nodding quickly, drawing in air loudly, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she smiled broadly, sincerely, squeezing his small hand.

"Promise."

They entered their house as his brother calmed down; he told Daeron to go to his room and leave them alone, which his brother eventually did with great reluctance, crying for a while longer, not wanting to say goodbye to her.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him at the end of the corridor he slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, took out a few banknotes and threw them on the table in front of her in a careless gesture.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said coldly, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her lower lip twitch, the pain of humiliation in her gaze, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that such words had left his mouth.

He wasn't paying her to make a circus of herself dancing like some fucking Esmeralda, exposing his brother to danger and injury.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and trembled with rage as she took the money and tossed it in his direction, the banknotes flying scattered around his feet.

"You could dress up as Frollo for the carnival ball, sir. It would suit you." She said drily, turning away tensely – he moved behind her, feeling anger buzzing strongly in his veins at her words.

He grabbed her by the neck with an aggressive flick of his hand and slammed her back against the wall, her voice stuck in her throat in horror, her big, bright eyes open wide in disbelief.

He took a step closer to her, feeling her warm body quiver all over in his grasp, digging his fingertips deeper into her skin, finding with delight that she was obscenely soft.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He asked in a low whisper filled with threat – she shook her head quickly clearly feeling the situation was out of her control, obviously fearing if he was really going to do something to her.

"No, are you sure? I'm listening to you. Tell me something else interesting about me." He said softly, encouragingly, moving even closer to her, the tips of their noses almost touching.

He could finally get a good look at her and he found curiously that he still couldn't tell what colour her eyes were, now slightly reddened from tears of fear.

She shook her head quickly, not making a sound; all he could hear was their quickened, raspy breaths, her hand touched his wrist as if she wanted to make sure he didn't strangle her.

He was somehow delighted by how delicate, long and slender her fingers were, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his trousers at the thought.

"Look at you. So silly. Because you're a silly little girl, aren't you? You would benefit from someone teaching you a lesson. No? Then apologise and I'll let you go and pretend I never met you." He said calmly, her whole body quivering with terror.

"Never." She said quietly, and he felt involuntarily that his lips curved in a dangerous, satisfied grin, his fingers clenching tighter around her neck.

"You're asking for trouble, Esmeralda." He muttered lowly, her nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

"I will report what you are doing to the police." She said dryly and he smiled even wider, feeling her tremble all over as he leaned over her ear, his nose sinking into her soft, flower-scented hair – he closed his eyes and savoured the experience for a moment before whispering something she froze from.

"I am a prosecutor −"

Her hand clenched tighter on his wrist, a moan of despair escaping her lips, as if what he had said had really shocked her, as if she was only now realising what she had gotten herself into.

"− and I've never lost a case yet." He whispered in her ear, sliding his face lower, to her jaw and then to her neck, pressing his full lips to her skin, leaving wet, hot marks on it. He heard her draw in a loud breath.

"− w-what are you doing, sir? − no −" She whimpered, he felt her lift her arms up in a defensive gesture, trying to pull away from him, but he pressed her against the wall with his body, letting go of her neck, his erection throbbing hard in his trousers, pressing again and again against her stomach.

She felt it, a terrified cry escaped her lips as his lips pressed tightly against her neck – he began to suck painfully hard on her skin, wanting to leave her a crimson reminder of himself.

"− how did you put it? − who do I remind you of? −" He asked tauntingly, running his rough tongue over her red skin, feeling the veins pulsing rapidly under her soft, warm skin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry − please, please let me go −" She mumbled out in despair on the verge of crying, her voice trembling all over in terror, her breathing raspy and uneven, her small hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck that he wore under his jacket.

He gasped at her words, sliding his mouth lower, repeating the same process, rubbing against her with his hips – his cock was all swollen and hard, pulsing with pleasure, his hands roaming down her back, sliding at last to her buttocks where they clenched.

"− look at you − so you can be polite after all, hm? −" He asked softly, lowering the material of her tracksuit shorts a little, his large hand grasping her plump, firm buttocks and slapping it hard – she clamped her lips together, trying to hold back the whimper that squeezed its way down her throat.

"− that's what I thought − turn around and let's get this over with −" He murmured, soothingly massaging the place that was now pulsing from his slap, grinning as she did so wordlessly, tears of helplessness and fear on her cheeks.

"− please −" She muttered and he sighed softly, sliding the material of her shorts and underwear down, revealing what was underneath – she shuddered and wept quietly as the tips of his fingers ran over her swollen folds, focusing their pressure on her sweet spot hidden between them, digging into her fleshy skin in circular, calm motions.

"− shhh − this way it will be easier for both of us −" He explained in a soft tone of voice, as if he was telling her something obvious, as if it would benefit her in the future and teach her something.

He heard her shy moan full of fear, then another, a tad louder as his fingers sank more firmly into her skin. He licked his lips at the sight of the wetness that began to leak slowly from inside her and slapped his hand with a short, rough movement into the space between her thighs.

"− quiet −" He ordered, and she pressed her lips together, stifling whatever wanted to come out of them. Daeron was far away, locked in his room, but he still preferred him not to hear anything, and he didn't have the time or desire to take her upstairs to his bedroom.

This situation, her bent figure and her lovely buttocks pushed up towards him, suited him completely.

"− good girl − see? − it's not that hard −" He murmured pleased with how obedient she was despite the fear and terror from which her whole body was twitching. The confident movements of his fingers were accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her cheek pressed against the cold wall where her hands were helplessly trying to find support in this position, her eyes closed as if she just wanted to wait it out.

She opened them when she heard the sound of his zipper being opened – her lips pressed together with difficulty as he guided the fat, swollen head of his throbbing cock against her opening, leaning with his free hand against the wall just above her head, trying to force it between her tight folds with the motion of his hips.

"− wider − that's it, there you go −" He exhaled as she opened her thighs a little more and he spread her wide on his cock, feeling her muscles gave him a wonderful squeeze – he sighed loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was.

"− fuck −" He hissed out, clamping his hands on her buttocks, spreading them like a ripe fruit; she squirmed in discomfort as he forced her to take him deeper inside her, filling her so much that he felt like he was going to rip her skin apart.

"− barely fits −" He scoffed, moving his hips back and forth with a splat of her moisture dripping down her thighs – he heard her begin to pant along with him as he deliberately rubbed against her lower wall just above her very entrance, teasing the spot inside her from which her whole body was quivering.

"− here? − do you want me to fuck you here, little one? −" He gasped as he stretched her skin enough to fit all of him inside her, rooting into her again and again with increasingly brutal thrusts of his hips, digging his fingertips into her buttocks, looking at the spot where their bodies joined, at her muscles clenching against him greedily in panic, sucking him inside.

"− please −" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips parted in disbelief at how pleasurable and terrifying the experience was. He sank his hand into her soft, dark hair and tilted her head back, burying his nose in the hot skin of her cheek, speeding up, stretching her weeping folds with a loud, lewd slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

"− use full sentences −" He commanded, his other hand from her hip slid down between her thighs – she squirmed helplessly as his fingers sank again into her fleshy skin, sticky from her moisture, teasing her clit with circular, slow motions.

"− here − fuck me here, sir −" She mumbled with difficulty in a voice trembling with exertion, her cheeks all red, the beautiful curls of her dark hair clinging to her sweaty face – he felt with satisfaction that her hips began to respond to his eager thrusts.

"− good girl − that's my good girl −" He breathed out with a quiet groan of pleasure, seeing and feeling her walls squeeze his fat cock at his praise – he licked his lips thinking that Alys had never responded to him the way she did, so frightened and aroused at the same time, relying only on his mercy, his goodwill.

"− you understand that this is necessary, don't you? − that you need to be taught a lesson −" He muttered, feeling that he was losing his temper, thrusting into her so fast that he was barely slipping out of her, slamming into her again and again, his cock throbbing with desire, signalling to him that his peak was coming, her wonderful scent filling his lungs.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm sorry −" She mumbled out –he wasn't sure if she was saying what he wanted to hear or if she really believed it herself for a second, but she clamped her eyelids shut and spread her mouth wide, helpless, girlish, sweet moan of relief burst from her throat as she came, sucking and squeezing his cock, soaking it in her moisture. He sighed in relief when, after a few desperate, deep slaps he spilled inside her, feeling the wave of hot pleasure shake his body.

"− fuck − oh, God, little one −" He muttered, their bodies involuntarily moving for a moment longer, wanting to prolong this surprisingly shocking experience, both of them panting embarrassingly loudly, her body trembling all over – if his arm hadn't been holding her around the waist she would have fallen for sure, her legs completely numb.

He looked down at their joined bodies, his half-hard, throbbing manhood sinking into her again and again, all sticky from his semen and her wetness.

He swallowed loudly, sliding out of her slowly, realising now what he had actually done to her – he heard her quiet hiss of discomfort and sigh of relief, her face flushed from exertion and tears.

"− are you all right? −" He asked in a trembling voice, quickly zipping up his trousers, her shaking hands slipping her underwear and shorts back onto her buttocks.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled in embarrassment, horror and disbelief, not looking at him, in some automatic gesture reaching for her trainers, putting them quickly on her feet.

"Come back on Thursday as we agreed before." He muttered, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart and the panic rising inside him, a complete void in his mind.

What had he done?

"I can assure you that you will never see me again." She whispered in a trembling, broken voice, quickly put her backpack on her back and walked out, slamming the door, leaving him with complete silence, remorse and horror.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, hiding his face in his hands, and burst into tears like a small child.

How could he treat a strange, innocent girl like this?

What if she didn't take her pills, what if she got pregnant?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

What if she really does report it to the police?

I'll destroy her, he thought with a bitter certainty that, after a moment, turned again into terror, regret and shame.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialled her number, wanting to beg her forgiveness, but she didn't answer. He sat down on the couch and drew in the air loudly, devastated, not recognising himself, realising what kind of man he was.

He laughed desperately, shaking his head, thinking with painful amusement how well she had judged him.

He didn't even have to pretend.

He was like Frollo.

_____

Author's note: Many of you may believe that Quasimodo is the best and most worthy of imitation character, not Phoebus, and this is true when it comes to the book, but I assume that if anything, Daeron at this age has only seen a Disney fairy tale, in which Phoebus is a handsome man with a noble heart. The whole idea of this scene, in which the heroine says that he will be her Phoebus and she will be his Esmeralda, is that Daeron wants to see himself not only as a person with a disability, but as someone handsome, a warrior that a woman could love one day. It's easy to understand how children's minds work and why his works this way, and his "Esmeralda" only wants to help him become the person he wants to be and encourages him not to give up on these dreams and this self-image.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96

[late-draft]

I'd contribute a tiny bit to the pro-Zutara side when it comes to the idea of Katara in the role of a co-ruler of the Fire Nation.

I understand where the negative arguments are coming from, how it's especially "shocking" if she enters the royal family (one which led the oppressive regime which waged war for 100 years and caused so much devastation);

however, firstly it is really no longer that family. Zuko committed high treason, almost died TRICE for that and still kept steady on that course, rejected his family, the family's terrible ideas about the world and both Ozai and Azula were imprisoned. Nobody supporting the old ways is still there. I don't understand negative arguments which treat Zuko's early background, lineage, political role (which may be incredibly undefined as the entire nation is being restructured, it's fantasy) as a more important factor than him as a person. He treats others with respect after undergoing redemption, he's demonstrably empathetic, he's working on undoing as much damage the Fire Nation has caused as possible, he was ready to die for these things. Secondly, why should a job or a title in a fantasy setting be a more relevant argument than love? If love was real and strong: if there's mutual respect between two people, understanding, cooperation, splitting of tasks, mutual care, communication on how to tackle problems, this is much more important and holds more weight than whether or not a role granting political power is from this or that side.

From what I've seen, the dominant headcanon for Zutara is that it wouldn't be oppressive to her but instead allow her to affect the world. It makes sense, most people want their favourite characters to be happy - AND there's no canonical evidence to suggest that being a co-ruler of the new Fire Nation would be a terrible, oppressive, restrictive position. Sure, there can also be headcanons where duty to other parts of the world might be too heavy and they split Zuko and Katara up, but this is a Tragedy trope and it only exists when there's incredibly strong love between them underneath this. So even this argument ends up supporting zutara.

I think that any arguments that use outside reasons why their relationship would be terrible are in the end much weaker in philosophy, compared to arguments about whether or not there are strong feelings between them. This is fantasy, love is an incredibly powerful force. And audience wants to believe in the power of love.

Now, if you ask me, I'd say I believe two characters absolutely do not need to have an on-screen kiss or anything completely explicit in order to convey that yes, they have deep feelings for each other. Shipping comes down to preferences, many people certainly simply Do Not Vibe with Zuko as a personality or whatever. However, this is a separate thing from what the characters are written as doing, how they are behaving in each other's company and how they treat each other.

So I'd say, if Katara loves Zuko (and vice-versa), then that's fullstop. Anything else is just an obstacle in their way which they'd tackle together.

[lieutenantism]

there was a post on here talking about how jean would be terrible with kids in contrast to kim and harry and i can't help but think of how shallow that pov is, considering how you don't possess enough information about jean to make that judgement.

would jean be bad with kids? i don't think he would be.

the only instance we have of him interacting with a child is when you partner up with cuno, and i think that still doesn't give us enough room for judgment given the fact he was extremely frustrated with harry at that moment, so much that he barely acknowledges the kid. when he does though, he uses him against harry, as another sin to add to the record. jean claims he would've never let harry partner up with a child, that he's still better than him in that regard.

but he's only better at protecting children as long as he doesn't have to take care of them. jean is trying to shelter cuno from sacrificing his life to law enforcement while simultaneously dooming him to a fate much worse than that, even if he knew that he had nothing. but jean is also a jamrock resident, he knows what's it like to have nothing, he lives among people who have nothing, he quite literally says it which feels personal, almost like he was that kid at some point. perhaps there was a time in his life where he was cuno, and joining the police was the only way out. after all, he doesn't want cuno to be a cop because he thinks he's too young and too childish for it, because he believes kids with nothing shouldn't join law enforcement to survive. after all, this is the same jean that kept the mural.

when jean interacts with cuno, he has an air of carefulness about him; he respects the child, to a certain degree. even more than he does harry, which is telling. unlike harry, he doesn't immediately try to assert himself over the kid, i would say it's because he has experience with children like cuno. after all, he does assess him and then speaks to him politely, which means that he's already done it before with other children from similar backgrounds.

contrary to popular belief, jean is an extremely patient individual. however, the game takes place after he's had enough of harry, therefore we never get to see him patient, although there are many, many, many references to that in his interactions with others for those with the literacy to find them. for example, here when cuno's eagerly explaining the encounter with the deserter and he's barely making sense, jean's doing his best to understand the kid although both him and harry provoke him. i've talked about jean's nervous tics in another post, and how jean needs to physically steel himself whenever he feels like he's losing control over the situation (in this case, he rubs his temples). yet, compared to harry and kim's first interactions with cuno, i think jean did well.

after he gets around to having him become a cop, he treats him like a peer more than a kid because he is going to be one of them, eventually. he never lacks respect for him, even if he still thinks he's a mere kid, so i don't really understand where the "jean would be bad with kids unlike harry and kim because he'd pick a petty fight with them" sentiment came from, given the fact harry can canonically attempt to shoot a child, physically assault another, and pick a fight with them (and lose).

and kim doesn't even bother to speak to them, probably because he's had similar experiences and learned that it's better not to try with such children, which is something i wouldn't put past him. after all, kim rarely challenges the status quo or the system that's failing these children, if anything he aims to protect it. these children are mere collateral damage to him, in my opinion. he barely even acknowledges them throughout the entire interaction with them, and only expresses disdain if you punch cuno because it's "far from normal police conduct", not because you shouldn't physically assault a 12 year old. the most he does when you try to shoot cunoesse is putting a hand on your shoulder to tell you not to, he doesn't disarm you or even try to.

so all in all, i don't think jean is bad with kids. he doesn't lack empathy or respect, doesn't think they're anything other than children, doesn't physically assault them or tries to, and most importantly he tries his best, if we consider the clinical depression and the responsibility he bears when harry's not well enough to work and the excuses he has to make for him in front of their superiors... etc. i mean, imagine having a coworker who always shows up inebriated try to convince you to take in a child to enroll in the academy knowing very well he's not old enough for it so you'd have to falsify documents for it (another responsibility to add to the pile), and the guy recommending him never has his wits about him. pretty crazy! i wonder how everyone would react.