#one of the worst things that I think can happen to art is for its nuances and complexities to be dulled and sanded away

[jaggedjot]

“Louis de Pointe du Lac. That's an interesting name.” “Louis of Pointe du Lac Plantation. My great-great-grandfather owned one. All that remains is the name.”

“And a sizable trust to oversee as a consequence. Capital accrued from plantations of sugar and the blood of men who looked like my great-grandfather but did not have his standing.”

When introducing himself to Daniel both in 1973 and in 2022, Louis alludes to the ways that the legacy of chattel slavery in the United States remains present through his life. The ramifications of this history will be explored further in his interviews; it is intrinsic to the racism that Louis describes experiencing, and it is built into the economic and cultural foundations of the societies that Louis has and continues to navigate through. The way that this subject is broached however, in both the past and present, specifically centres the relationship between slave plantations and Louis’ own affluence.

Daniel’s remark being prefaced by Louis offering to “Get the boy whatever he wants”, before carelessly pushing a platinum credit card between them, implicitly correlates Louis’ response with that ostentatious display of wealth. It is not an intentional association made by the characters, and Louis immediately downplays the link when he recognises it (“All that remains is the name.”). Given his reaction, it seems likely that Louis did not talk about this topic during his subsequent interview with Daniel, though, again, that does not mean it would have had no bearing on other matters discussed. By contrast in the present day, Louis broaches the subject himself and fairly openly acknowledges the correlation. It was a slave plantation and the exploitation of enslaved people that created the sizeable trust that paid for the house and lifestyle that Louis and his family enjoyed. While Louis does not state it directly, the unavoidable implication of Louis clarifying that his great-grandfather was black and had a different social status to that of slaves (“[…] the blood of men who looked like my great-grandfather but did not have his standing.”) is that several generations of Louis’ black relatives have, at least indirectly, financially profited from chattel slavery. It is unlikely that this wealth was all inherited after the fact, considering that the abolition of slavery in the United States occurred only a couple of decades before Louis was born. These pieces of information seem to contradict then the implicit suggestion of Louis’ earlier explanation in 1973, that the only direct bearing the de Pointe du Lac plantation has had on his life is a shared name.

Both the dismissal and the acknowledgement are characteristic of how Louis describes the past; factual as a basic statement but carrying additional implications whose accuracy is more questionable and or left carefully unexamined. This is a rhetorical device that aids Louis in maintaining control of the narrative and its meanings while avoiding, as much as he can, outright lies. While Louis does view Daniel as a necessity for him to revisit his story, it needs to be stated that this does not prevent Louis from consciously and unconsciously tailoring it for his audience. It is possible that Louis only acknowledges the subject at all in the second interview because he is aware that Daniel has likely done some background research on his family. Considering how insensitive to racial issues Daniel can be, as well as his deliberately combative and contrarian approach to interviewing, it may be that this is a subject that Louis does not want to explore with Daniel specifically; it is perhaps notable that the penthouse Louis shares with Armand contains at least two pieces of art (Slave Auction by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Transformation by Ron Bechet) which are about chattel slavery. Regardless of the reason for Louis’ selectivity, this context continues to hover on the periphery of Louis’ story, adding additional layers of meaning to the events that follow.

It contextualises the contradictory feelings Louis has about his work as a landlord and pimp, roles that may step outside of the shadow of sugarcane and slavery but are only made possible through investing the profits of them. When Louis confesses to the ways he treats his workers, tellingly he invokes plantation imagery with “[…] I lie to myself, saying I'm giving them a roof and food and dollar bills in they pocket, but I look in the mirror, I know what I am; the big man in the big house, stuffing cotton in my ears so I can't hear their cries.”. This conflict then deepens the resentment Louis has towards his family for criticising how he provides for them, with Paul being the only member who even entertains the idea that they should not spend the money at all (“We should tithe that o'er to St. Augustine's 'fore this house falls in on us.”). Whereas the family judges Louis for connecting them to an industry they view as sinful and lacking respectability, contrasting it to the seemingly fondly remembered family plantation (“Daddy was here, we'd still be in sugar cane.”), Louis is troubled by the exploitative nature of that work and capitalism as a whole. Yet there are also times when Louis exhibits pride towards his business dealings (“And I was now the owner of the brightest club in the district. My club, my rules. […] It was everything I had ever wanted or wished for. […] I made a mountain of money, enough to retire and be buried like a pharaoh.”). This could be suggested to be partly because Louis has moved away from the legacy of his family’s past to create something that he can try to believe is helping his, primarily black, workers (“I paid the staff better, paid the band better, all the while helping those who had been with me down the block to better themselves.”).

Most significantly of all, this context adds an additional lens through which Louis and the audience can examine some of the overarching existential ideas that Louis has been grappling with throughout his life, and that the second interview brings to the forefront. How does the past continue to define our present? Can we be considered in any way culpable for the actions of others? What reparations can we make for the harm, deliberate and unintentional, that we do? The open-ended way that Louis approaches the link between his inherited wealth and chattel slavery, as well as the subsequent ways that these have shaped his life, is reflective of those unanswered questions. Louis is desperately trying to find, if not a definitive answer to these philosophical quandaries, an insight that can give his existence purpose and direction. It is vital to Louis that his experiences offer some greater lesson (“That's the purpose. Our book must be a warning as much as anything.”), and ideally one that he can prove that he has already learnt. The different ways that Louis approaches the subject in 1973 and 2022 then reflect how he is revaluating the past and himself (“The passage of time and the frailties that accompany it have provided me perspective.”), but despite this, critically and symbolically, Louis still does not seem to have come to any conclusions.

[vt-scribbles]

Something seriously lacking in my art is the ability to tell a story in a single illustration.

I've gotten so used to drawing my characters standing around doing random things that I've never practiced telling a full tale/putting implications into my pieces that require more thinking/looking.

It also comes from a lower amount of details in my works by default [since I like to get pieces done fast], but I'm tired of using that as an excuse.

[foone]

Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:

We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.

Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.

We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!

We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.

And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.

If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:

What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?

What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?

What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?

All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.

Because this is an asymmetric problem:

If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.

If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!

You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.

And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.

The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.

Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.

If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.

If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.

This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".

But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).

So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).

But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.

Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.

We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.

My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"

Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"

[autisticandroids]

i've been seeing ai takes that i actually agree with and have been saying for months get notes so i want to throw my hat into the ring.

so i think there are two main distinct problems with "ai," which exist kind of in opposition to each other. the first happens when ai is good at what it's supposed to do, and the second happens when it's bad at it.

the first is well-exemplified by ai visual art. now, there are a lot of arguments about the quality of ai visual art, about how it's soulless, or cliche, or whatever, and to those i say: do you think ai art is going to be replacing monet and picasso? do you think those pieces are going in museums? no. they are going to be replacing soulless dreck like corporate logos, the sprites for low-rent edugames, and book covers with that stupid cartoon art style made in canva. the kind of art that everyone thinks of as soulless and worthless anyway. the kind of art that keeps people with art degrees actually employed.

this is a problem of automation. while ai art certainly has its flaws and failings, the main issue with it is that it's good enough to replace crap art that no one does by choice. which is a problem of capitalism. in a society where people don't have to sell their labor to survive, machines performing labor more efficiently so humans don't have to is a boon! this is i think more obviously true for, like, manufacturing than for art - nobody wants to be the guy putting eyelets in shoes all day, and everybody needs shoes, whereas a lot of people want to draw their whole lives, and nobody needs visual art (not the way they need shoes) - but i think that it's still true that in a perfect world, ai art would be a net boon, because giving people without the skill to actually draw the ability to visualize the things they see inside their head is... good? wider access to beauty and the ability to create it is good? it's not necessary, it's not vital, but it is cool. the issue is that we live in a society where that also takes food out of people's mouths.

but the second problem is the much scarier one, imo, and it's what happens when ai is bad. in the current discourse, that's exemplified by chatgpt and other large language models. as much hand-wringing as there has been about chatgpt replacing writers, it's much worse at imitating human-written text than, say, midjourney is at imitating human-made art. it can imitate style well, which means that it can successfully replace text that has no meaningful semantic content - cover letters, online ads, clickbait articles, the kind of stuff that says nothing and exists to exist. but because it can't evaluate what's true, or even keep straight what it said thirty seconds ago, it can't meaningfully replace a human writer. it will honestly probably never be able to unless they change how they train it, because the way LLMs work is so antithetical to how language and writing actually works.

the issue is that people think it can. which means they use it to do stuff it's not equipped for. at best, what you end up with is a lot of very poorly written children's books selling on amazon for $3. this is a shitty scam, but is mostly harmless. the behind the bastards episode on this has a pretty solid description of what that looks like right now, although they also do a lot of pretty pointless fearmongering about the death of art and the death of media literacy and saving the children. (incidentally, the "comics" described demonstrate the ways in which ai art has the same weaknesses as ai text - both are incapable of consistency or narrative. it's just that visual art doesn't necessarily need those things to be useful as art, and text (often) does). like, overall, the existence of these kids book scams are bad? but they're a gnat bite.

to find the worst case scenario of LLM misuse, you don't even have to leave the amazon kindle section. you don't even have to stop looking at scam books. all you have to do is change from looking at kids books to foraging guides. i'm not exaggerating when i say that in terms of texts whose factuality has direct consequences, foraging guides are up there with building safety regulations. if a foraging guide has incorrect information in it, people who use that foraging guide will die. that's all there is to it. there is no antidote to amanita phalloides poisoning, only supportive care, and even if you survive, you will need a liver transplant.

the problem here is that sometimes it's important for text to be factually accurate. openart isn't marketed as photographic software, and even though people do use it to lie, they have also been using photoshop to do that for decades, and before that it was scissors and paintbrushes. chatgpt and its ilk are sometimes marketed as fact-finding software, search engine assistants and writing assistants. and this is dangerous. because while people have been lying intentionally for decades, the level of misinformation potentially provided by chatgpt is unprecedented. and then there are people like the foraging book scammers who aren't lying on purpose, but rather not caring about the truth content of their output. obviously this happens in real life - the kids book scam i mentioned earlier is just an update of a non-ai scam involving ghostwriters - but it's much easier to pull off, and unlike lying for personal gain, which will always happen no matter how difficult it is, lying out of laziness is motivated by, well, the ease of the lie.* if it takes fifteen minutes and a chatgpt account to pump out fake foraging books for a quick buck, people will do it.

*also part of this is how easy it is to make things look like high effort professional content - people who are lying out of laziness often do it in ways that are obviously identifiable, and LLMs might make it easier to pass basic professionalism scans.

and honestly i don't think LLMs are the biggest problem that machine learning/ai creates here. while the ai foraging books are, well, really, really bad, most of the problem content generated by chatgpt is more on the level of scam children's books. the entire time that the internet has been shitting itself about ai art and LLM's i've been pulling my hair out about the kinds of priorities people have, because corporations have been using ai to sort the resumes of job applicants for years, and it turns out the ai is racist. there are all sorts of ways machine learning algorithms have been integrated into daily life over the past decade: predictive policing, self-driving cars, and even the youtube algorithm. and all of these are much more dangerous (in most cases) than chatgpt. it makes me insane that just because ai art and LLMs happen to touch on things that most internet users are familiar with the working of, people are freaking out about it because it's the death of art or whatever, when they should have been freaking out about the robot telling the cops to kick people's faces in.

(not to mention the environmental impact of all this crap.)

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[towards-toramunda]

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

[ghostieyanyan]

Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.

hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?

~Let the fire purify you~

Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc

Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,

~~~

Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.

How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...

But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...

He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.

With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-

until-

he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.

your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.

~

All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.

to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...

Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.

no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.

~

Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.

when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.

you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.

"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.

"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."

"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"

"w-well.."

It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...

"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."

"hmm.."

Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.

"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"

since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..

"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"

Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.

"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"

the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...

"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"

"Earned..?"

Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.

"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."

you start walking to the door but stopped.

"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."

you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.

"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"

you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.

You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.

~

you had so many questions...

why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.

what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..

how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst

you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..

you started to slowly open your eyes..

where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?

you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..

you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?

you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!

if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.

what happened?! what's going on?!?

you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-

"oh my dear! you're awake."

your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.

"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"

with a heavy chest, you spoke.

"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"

"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"

"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."

you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.

"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."

he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.

You did. you don't really have a choice right now..

"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"

you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.

"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."

you stared at him but he kept smiling.

"magicless.. like me..?"

"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."

you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..

magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!

Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.

"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"

"...mon...ster..."

Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.

"excuse me..?"

you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?

"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."

he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.

You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..

the silence was deafening.

Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.

"take. that. back."

"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."

you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.

"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."

he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.

you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.

After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.

"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."

Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.

you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.

Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.

"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"

when he went to grab your face, he-

"MC!!"

those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..

"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."

[titleknown]

Given my defenses of AI artists/dim view of the moral panic, I think overall people pushing back on this is a good thing.

Like, the sort of AI art I like is by small weirdos doing weirdo things not big megacorps using it to replace workers, and WotC and Hasbro are run by bastards who would probably salivate at the idea of replacing artists on MtG given they'd probably be the easiest ones to replace from a greedy-corporate-bastard view.

However, there's a souple of notes here I think we all should keep an eye on.

Namely, the fact that it was apparently from an artist using an AI tool that WotC didn't know about. Which, I think that's going to be a problem creators run into sooner or later with "AI bans"

Like, I get a lot of images for my photomanip stuff from Pixabay. And more and more I've been seeing a lot of AI art stuff as a part of it. How would those bans impact me if I; say; used them as an ingredient in a photomanip without knowing?

So, there's that. But there's also a disquieting possibility I've noticed.

Namely: Given the main fear about AI is that its ability to work quickly at volume might be used to push out traditional artists and their precision, what happens if corpos push for "the worst of both worlds"?

IE, what if; due to the expanded production speed of AI art; they mandate that creators work at speeds that can only be done if they use AI tools, but also end up forcing them to conceal and lie about it and leaving the artists to take the fall for using it rather than the corpos for pushing the culture of overwork that made it necessary?

TBH, I think that's why we need to focus less on the "stealing" argument being used as a way to talk about the destruction of the artistic ecosystem by mandated speed, and more the idea of the right of the artist to work at their own pace that might be able to do something about it.

But, IDK, that's just me, it's just something to watch out for.

[mewguca]

I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

[nastyburger]

Please say more about the awful Asian designs in Danny Phantom. I'm not Asian but I'd love to have a rundown on the elements that make them offensive so I can avoid and critique those elements in other works. And also you deserve to speak your mind about it

im gonna mostly talk about southeast asian designs since thats what i am and the most familiar with and also what i feel are the show's worst transgression with their casual depictions. tw for racist imagery im gonna link pictures.

there's not much to say about the designs aside from, you know, everything but things to note are the unnatural yellow tone for the skin and closed slanted eyes. veggie burger (fan name for the bg character in the middle) also suffers from the huge nose that sometimes shows up in racist depictions. the straight edge/cut hair as well is somewhat stereotypical. this one isn't as bad but in conjunction with everything else its not ideal. i will give the smallest molecule of credit that at the very least dp never gave any of these bg characters buck teeth.

some depictions are better than others, but theres still missteps happening in one aspect or another. kwan's eyes in a lot of shots/episodes can be too skinny and even too slanted, the girl in the middle is almost perfect but her skin is too yellow (she looks kinda okay on my computer screen but i remember when watching dp on my tv she looked real brightly yellow), and principle ishiyama (who was weirdly forgotten about pretty early on in the show and was replaced by lancer doing most of the school stuff despite not being principle?? which is a whole other issue with how dp treats its poc characters) the same usual notes about the slanted eyes but also the upturned nose is pretty reminiscent of racist japanese art during ww2. again it is not the worst way to draw a nose but combined with everything else in this show's depiction of asian characters its not great, they are on thin ice man.

not to mention, principle ishiyama is the only character here with brown eyes. this is a problem that extends to all poc characters in dp and to my knowledge i think ishiyama might be the only one with them tbh. this is, again, a whole other issue though.

i think the thing that bothers me most about these designs though is that dp is very clearly aware that these depictions are bad. the only difference between the first set of characters and the second is one singular thing: they have a clear speaking role.

suddenly when theyre not stock background characters, dp knows how to act when drawing them. i cannot for the life of me find the image of it, but the last jock guy in the first set gets a speaking role in reign storm (he's cosplaying phantom) and he is drawn with proper open eyes! (theyre also blue but whatever) it just makes me sad that this was a clear choice they made.

the show also went in a different direction in the final product, but early development stuff was really drawing from a lot of japanese/asian influences like danny was originally gonna have a motorcycle (pulling from ghost in the shell) and was even referenced in the show via the akira motorcycle reference (which i once again, for the life of me, cannot find. danny took johnny 13's motorcycle and did the classic akira slide i think it was in million dollar ghost?? idk whichever one where the giw are trying to blow up the ghost zone). danny's name was originally gonna be jackie, named after jackie chan, this i assume was given to jack fenton afterwards. and i think the show having a more martial arts direction with the action was also gonna be a thing? that one could be wrong dont quote me on that, there was an episode where danny and vlad have like a weird ninja fight though im pretty sure.

either way my point here is that they wanted to pull from all these influences and it was prominent enough during development that they sprinkle references to it throughout the show and yet their portrayal and treatment of asian characters in the show is so abysmal it just feels Bad™, you know? i cant really put it more eloquently than that, like its very take and no give with it.

it overall just puts a bad taste in my mouth, and its sad that it still affects people years later. like i mentioned in the tags of the post that started this discussion with that whole old trend of putting yourself into the bg of dp screenshots, i felt alienated by that. and its not the people who participated's fault obviously but most of the people i saw participating were white fans (going off of how they drew themselves) and it made me a bit mad that they were able to enjoy the style of the show in a more carefree manner than i ever could. i didnt want to ruin anyone's fun obviously, but a small part of me wanted to bring to light how i wasnt on equal ground with them in that situation.

[vesora]

is it a real problem or are you trapped in your mind?

this one goes to my anxious girlies

the past few weeks I've been extremely trapped in my mind, ruminating whether someone would backstab me or whether a friend would leave me and of course there is no evidence of that in real life, it's all in mind. that being said, deep down i know that nothing would happen and im sure deep down you all know as well that nothing would happen. but the what ifs are so strong that you can't handle yourself practising the law.

this doesn't mean you can't manifest during this time, we always manifest, just now you can consciously manifest things you want. e.g. I wanted a psychic message from someone and I received it; I got money when I needed it; I never wait for public transport even if the app shows that it is coming in like 30 minutes (because we don't pay attention to 3d). I've noticed my anxious and extremely intrusive thoughts never manifest, especially after learning the law so I don't want you to be scared of your own mind. You, as the supreme being and consciousness ARE your mind but your mind is not you. In the grand scheme of things, the mind is unreal so what would the "3d" listen to? Some jumble of anxious fearful thoughts that do not exist except from when you aware of it or the command of God themselves?

all in your (unreal) mind:

don't punish yourself, stop harming yourself by trapping yourselves in your mind. simply drop the thought. if you find that hard, you can work on it by eliminating the possibilities but from experience, that still never makes the fear go away. the fear is so primal, so noticeable that the only way it feels it can go away for me is if I end everything and thats not good right? why would God be a victim to her character's thoughts? Why wouldn't God just change the garment?

The hardest thing is to just ACCEPT. "Just accept you have it" was the hardest thing for me to apply because soras entire life was just finding every possible solution for the worst case scenario in case people hurt her or I am seen in a way that doesn't represent her (aka being misunderstood). See how i am using her and sora to describe things I experienced? It's because I have the POWER to completely eradicate any trauma or any pain by just choosing to adorn myself in another state. I am not sora but sora is me, therefore I have control over soras experiences. You are not a victim to your circumstance, when you find the law you have the power to create your own life, you create new circumstances by adopting a new version of yourself. You are in control no matter what the unreal mind says.

breathe in, breathe out:

Excuse my language but honestly fuck the mind???? It only knows what it has learned from its surroundings and you are above the surroundings so why would you listen to such a limited thing?

Do you think if you dismiss the thoughts you won't be prepared for what you think is about to come? Do you feel you constantly have to be on defense mode protecting yourself either from physical or emotional harm?

I understand, I was the same way and sometimes I still revert back to it. However the thing is, who is creating whats about to come? YOU ARE! Don't you get it? Nothing can happen without your consent (once you accept your power of course). You are not a victim to circumstances. You are never the receiver, you are always the creator. Bask yourself in lovely states with lovely thoughts. It is okay if you do not believe it or if your body is resisting it, just please persevere. We can't let anxiety win. What is anxiety to a God?

our negative beliefs falling after we disown them:

Read this by Edward Art

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

Linda Flynn-Fletcher

I think Linda Flynn-Fletcher is potentially one of the most misunderstood characters in the show.

It think comes from a natural enough place. Her role in the show is of course, to act as the potential threat to their summers of fun. While they boys never see her as a threat, narratively she's the big bad. If she sees it, its game over.

Here's the thing though. She's a not a bad mom. Her children LOVE her. Similarly to how Phineas and Ferb absolutely adore Candace and would do nearly anything she asked, Phineas, Ferb and Candace all love and respect their mother and don't disobey her. Now a bit of this is clearly Linda being a more permissive parent, but any rules that Linda has Phineas and Ferb never do anything to disobey their mother. While I wouldn't be surprised if there were one or two instances where Candace disobeyed her mother willfully, the closest I can think off off hand is Candace not doing a bunch of chores that she was supposed to do. Really, the fact that all her kids love her, shows how much all her kids feel loved in their household. And I think that's super important. Candace wrote a song about how much she feels loved by her mom, even if her mom is dismissive of Candace. But she still goes with Candace to see what the boys are up to even if she doesn't believe it. She sets boundaries on how often Candace can bust the boys sure. But she hasn't forbidden Candace from doing it altogether. Nor does she punish Candace for presumably lying?

At MOST Linda will say something like: "let's get you out of the sun" after a failed bust. The worst of it I think is probably the time Linda made her promise not to try or suffer the Pharaohs curse. Which, was just some guy in a Pharaoh costume telling Candace curse you. Linda goes out of her way to read books to try and deal with her daughter. She and Candace still clearly hold a lot of affection for each other and do spend a decent amount of mother daughter time together. Linda gives books to her daughter, tries to direct her to other activities, and finds her sleep busting cute, and sometimes goes out of her way to do activities her daughter wants to do with her. All things considered Linda is REALLY patient about Candace's busting. Could she be doing more to get to the bottom of why Candace is presumably acting out? Sure. But Doofensmirtz could also be doing a better job of listening to his daughter and not insulting her (or do we not remember why Vanessa wears earbuds around the house) but we all call him a really good dad.

A LOT of shows have kids hiding a secret from a parent for one reason of another. But while the crux of the show rests on Linda not knowing what her sons are doing, its not because its a secret. The boys aren't hiding it from her. The boys genuinely believe she knows. Lawrence genuinely believes she knows. Candace is the only one in the family who really grasps the situation.

Linda's ignorance, her disbelief of the wild shenanigans that her children get into is easily mistakable for normality. For representing the oppressive day to day. The same thematic antagonist as school. A mom who wants whats best for her kids, and thinks that whats best for them is them being normal, without realizing what's really best for them. After all why else we saw what would happen if she found out in Quantum Boogaloo. But the fact of the matter is aside from that one future (which also featured an effectively evil leader in Doofensmirtz, and therefore implies more factors at play than just Doofensmirtz and Linda's characters), we don't really know how it would play out in the long term. Future Linda even just kinda moves on after discovering the truth.

Linda is exactly like her kids. She just does the same things on a less physics breaking scale. The woman has like 37 different hobbies. She takes a cooking class, donated an art sculpture, is part of a jazz group. She has a background in astrophysics. She was a pop star. She won a meatloaf contest. She takes french lessons. The fact that Linda has several hobbies is part of the reason the formula works at all. Linda is constantly trying new things which gets her out of the house, while her sons are trying their own new things. Her absence is what prompts Candace to have to go looking for her. Also, What Do It Do when the moment Linda gets put in Candace's position she acts the exact same way.

Also it's why she and Lawrence are so compatible. They have a lot of weird hobbies they spend together. She likes Lawrence's history references. They watch car racing together. They went spelunking together. They go bowling regularly enough to have equipment. She has played the bagpipes while Lawrence danced (which sidenote: do you think she taught Candace how to play the bagpipes?).

Not to mention her extended family. Think about it. Her mom was a competitive roller derby skater who once bit a skate and shook it like a dog with a chew toy and pulls elaborate pranks with her identical twin. Really she's a lot like Candace with her aggressive passion. Her dad apparently won a balloon race, but tells the story in the most straightforward way possible, sometimes very oblivious, but is overall a lot like Phineas. Her sister is an adrenaline junky. And back to Quantum Boogaloo for a minute: Her granddaughter is just like Candace, Grown up Candace is a lot like Linda. Do you not see the implications!!?!?!? LIKE???? DO YOU NOT REALIZE THAT LINDA WAS PROBABLY A LOT LIKE CANDACE AND PHINEAS WHEN SHE WAS YOUNGER?!!?! YOU THINK IT SKIPPED A GENERATION OR SOMETHING???

Do you think Linda used to complain about Tiana??? Do you think Linda thought her family was weird and was embarrassed by them??? Do you think Linda ever called herself the only mature/normal member of her family?? LIKE CANDACE DOES????

Anyway, Linda is just like her family. Sure, she is RELATIVELY more normal, but that's relative, and probably simply because the universe bends itself around to keep her from knowing. Linda literally cannot find out about the real nature of her universe. Linda is just a grown up version of her children, seeking to make the most of each day, but within the bounds the universe has set upon her, both as an adult woman and mother, but also in the laws of physics expected of her. But she still makes the most of her life. You don't have to build a roller coaster to make the most of each day and all that.

I think if Linda is representing anything its that even parents can have rich fulfilling lives. Where they make the most out of each day. Having fun with your life doesn't stop with adulthood. Even if you have more responsibilities doesn't mean you can't have fun? Sure childhood is something you can't get back but growing up isn't inherently bad either?

[lirational]

I think you've single-handedly gotten me into eldritch stuff. Well done! 😂 Sooo... would it be possible for any of the eldritch sinners to get Reader pregnant? 👀 If any of the other sinners are anything like Shalom, especially the S-class ones, who can do stuff like bend reality to their will, knocking up their favorite scientist might as well be child's play. And I'm sure any number of those women would have quite the breeding kink... 😏 Or since Scientist!Reader is all about learning new things and finding answers, maybe she happens to wander into a cell without realizing it's eldritch breeding season, and she gets /quite/ an educational lesson.

Yep! They definitely can.

That eldritch Shalom was actually based off a Cthulhu Mythos monster I once saw detailed on tvtropes. The creature lurks in mazes and if it sees you, it will chase you and corner you, then offer you a choice, be smashed into bloody pulp (which is an arguably better fate) or let it implant its egg into your body, which will eventually hatch and well, break your body into countless amount of its brood. I just added the reality bending bc it’s more fun that way, haha!

Mature content under the cut~

—

Of course~

You are so small, fragile and curious, and as a newbie, you haven’t quite mastered the art of not letting the eldritch beings get under your skin for their amusement by giving them stonewalling/evasive replies, so, often getting you as their assigned researcher would be the highlight of their day. As much as the other researchers are fun to tease and scare, you’re their favorite and it definitely shows.

When you get into their cell while they’re on breeding season…

Good luck, soldier 🫡

Shalom is far from the worst about it, but she can and will nudge you to comply with her mind control and reality warping. The plus side is that she knows all your sweet spots and will make you feel mind-melting pleasure while she puts the eggs inside you, and when you don’t come back to her in time and she didn’t get to help you through the hatching, well, let’s just say you will not be walking anytime soon, not until all the few dozen eggs inside hatch into tiny creatures. Well, even if you see her before that and she helps you, she’s all too glad to fill you up again, so… :D. At least, you can take comfort in the fact that if she breeds you, you’re staying human unless she feels like warping you a little. I’m sure the facility won’t mind sacrificing one of their researcher to keep one of the monsters happy and content.

Dreya approaches breeding season as almost an afterthought to her all-consuming thirst for knowledge, but in exchange, she can drown you in sensations that envelops every inch of your body, mind, and soul, and you will (might as well) very literally see the stars with her. However, with each time you become one with her, you will be a little less human, her forbidden knowledge taking form as sharpened crystalline growths start to dot your limbs, each reflecting the image of vast cosmos that draw you in, engulfing your mind and humanity. But even under the threat of your humanity perishing in the skies of forbidden knowledge, you will still come back to her, right?

[jujutsutrash]

(the best of a) simple thing

sort of a follow up to (don't look) but I want it, tho more of a prequel Pairing: Yuta x reader Word count: 2723 Warning: some slight mentions of nsfw stuff but mostly ok

When you walked into his apartment - and effectively into his life - Yuta never imagined he’d become so hooked on you. You had seemed like a bad company, like clear trouble. But you’d found him through a mutual friend, so he let it slide. He needed a roommate, and the worst that could happen would be having to kick you out. Or so he thought.

He never thought he’d become obsessed with you.

Well, obsessed is a strong word. Heavily infatuated could do. You plagued his mind constantly, and just your presence was enough to have him red in the face. Yuta thought that it was just a sexual thing, over time it would fade. It didn’t. And sharing an apartment with you, getting to know you, only made it worse. On one hand he’d be jerking off furiously to the thought of you, on the other he’d be aching to do the most domestic type of shit.

One thing he found himself desiring pretty quickly was to see you dressed in one of his clothes. It was hot, yeah, but it also felt cute as fuck. Sure, he didn’t tower over you, but his oversized shirts would still look bigger than your frame. To Yuta, the thought alone was enough to have his heart leaping - and his cock hardening - in less than a second.

Though, he never thought that would actually happen. Until it did. The first time he got a chance to see you in one of his clothes was on a rare day that he was going from college straight to your shared apartment. It was a day off, and he had plans for it, until it started raining out of the nothing while he was still in class. When it came time to leave, the rain had turned heavy, water falling from the sky with rage and bringing a cold wind with it. Yuta considered himself lucky for always having an umbrella lost somewhere in his bag.

To his surprise, when he came to the arched entrance of the college building, he saw you, looking into the rainy street with a desolate expression. It was rare for him to see you at campus, the buildings where the visual arts students had their classes couldn’t be further from his own. Slowly, he walked up to you, coming to stand by your side as he watched your expression.

“You forgot you your umbrella again?”

You almost jumped by his side, and Yuta couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. He muttered a sorry when you looked back at him, eyes burning with anger. Even that was cute. Looking at you now, he also couldn’t help noticing how you had your hands rubbing your arms, body closing in tight on itself. You were dressed in just a tshirt and jeans, clearly not expecting to get cold any time soon.

“Yeah,” you respond with a pout, “this is ridiculous, it was sunny when I left home!”

“The weather changes a lot around this time of the year,” he adds with a shrug, pulling the umbrella from inside his backpack. “I can give you a ride if you want?”

“Don’t you have to go to the office?”

“Nah, got a day off today, I was heading home anyway,” Yuta says with a smile, watching as your face lights up at the offer, his heart warming up at the sight. 

“Oh, shit, Yuta, thank you so much. You are a lifesaver,” you smile, and he can feel the blush that’s creeping its way on his face.

“Don’t need to thank me, really, I’m just glad to help,” he responds in a gentle tone, voice growing more concerned as he looks over you again. “Are you cold?”

“A little, I really wasn’t expecting this.”

“Well, I,” he pauses, unsure if he should stay what he is thinking before he decides to go for it anyway. “I can give you my hoodie, so you don’t have to walk back while cold.”

Yuta looks over you, hand tugging at the fabric of the white hoodie he was wearing. He is pretty sure he is blushing, but he can’t focus on that right now. On one hand, you were cold, and he really just wanted to help. But on the other, well he is pretty sure that if you accept, he is gonna have the image of you in that hoodie burned into his mind forever.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that, you are gonna feel cold,” you shake your head, chuckling as you wave one hand in front of your face.

“I’m not that cold anyway, it’s fine really,” he insists, looking into your eyes with a warm smile.

You hesitate for a second, but then you nod, muttering a thanks when he places his backpack and umbrella on the floor. Yuta reaches a hand to his back, fingers digging into the soft fabric of his hoodie as he starts pulling it off. When he wrangles himself off of it, he passes it to you with one hand, the other fighting to readjust his hair.

He watches you smile and put it on, his heart skipping a beat at the sight. The shoulders of the hoodie seem a little loose on your frame, the end of the sleeves just about reaching your fingers. Yuta wasn’t that much bigger than you, but yeah, this was good enough. The walk to your apartment would be short, but he caught himself wondering if maybe he’d be lucky, and by the end of it his hoodie would smell like you.

When you look back up at him, he quickly averts your eyes, busying himself with picking up his backpack and umbrella, getting ready to leave. You two walk and chat, shoulders touching as you share the protection of Yuta’s old umbrella. He is almost sad when the walk ends. The minute he is inside his room, hoodie back in his hands, he brings the piece of clothing to his nose. Under the faint notes of his cologne, he finds it, the sweet smell of your body lotion. He’d for sure be sleeping with that hoodie tonight.

The second time Yuta got a chance to see you wearing one of his clothes was when you’d taken him with you to that bar you loved so much - Devilock, you called it. From the outside the place looked like a shady, hole in the wall type of bar, from the inside it looked just better enough to be sanitary. Truth be told, Yuta had never been one to frequent those places. Between the loud noise and his aversion for social situations, it felt like too much. Yet, he couldn’t say no when you invited him.

The punkest thing he could muster from his wardrobe was a beaten up plaid button up thrown open over a black shirt and some dark jeans. Compared to you, he was a normie, but that was the best he could do. Though, your presence made him feel a little less awkward when you entered the place. The bar wasn’t utterly packed, but it was full, and that was already enough stress, so Yuta would take whatever little solace he could get.

Still, there was a silver lining to this all - aside from the amount of people in the bar counter, forcing you two to sit side by side, shoulders pressed against each other. No, the silver lining was that he got to watch you, free and at ease in your own element, dancing in a skin tight shirt and jeans shorts. Yuta could endure the awkwardness he felt from not knowing how to dance if he got to see you like that.

Shit, you were too hot, and as you both returned to the bar he still couldn’t stop staring, even as you downed another drink, droplets of the cocktail spilling past your lip and down your neck. Maybe the alcohol helped you not notice his wondering eyes, but the bartender sure caught his stares. From behind the counter, the tall, long haired man looked like serious trouble, especially as his black locks shadowed those fox eyes when he leaned menacingly forward. Okay, that was enough to make Yuta look away, for now. Near the end of the night, however, something else happened that had butterflies working up a hurricane in his stomach.

“Yuta!”

When you cried out for him, he could already recognize something off in your voice. You’d both found your way to the arcade machines in the bar at that point, and Yuta felt a little more in his territory this way. Though, you had gone to get a drink for yourself, and it was really off putting to have you return with worry in your voice.

“Hey,” Yuta responded, calling out your name as he turned around. “Everything ok?”

“Ah, mostly,” you chuckled. “But I think my shirt snagged in someone’ jacket and one of the straps torn,” you gave another awkward chuckle and Yuta’s eyes went straight from your own to the hand tightening the knot holding your shirt strap together - the other hand clutching a beer.

“Shit,” he stuttered, torn between the desire to help and the desire to just see the thing fall. “People should really be more careful, they could have hurt you.”

“It’s ok, really, it’s just an inconvenience,” you laughed softly, placing your beer on top of the arcade machine you were. “Tho’, I think I might have to inconvenience you now.”

“Y-yes, whatever you need,” it was almost shameful how fast Yuta responded, he knew it, but he just couldn’t help but jump at the idea of you needing him in any way.

“Could you lend me your shirt? I’m not sure how safe this knot is,” you chuckled.

Yuta froze for a moment at your words, voice muffled by the song playing. Though, he quickly snapped out of it, eager to see you in his shirt. He knew he should be more worried about you, he knew he shouldn’t be thinking as he was at that moment, but there was just something about seeing you in his clothes. Shit, he’d refuse to wash that shirt for the next few days.

Taking out the shirt in a rush as he nodded frantically, Yuta almost knocked down the beer bottle on top of the arcade machine, getting one arm pathetically stuck in the sleeve as he tugged it free. When he handed you the shirt, you thanked him, swiftly putting it on and buttoning it up. You looked gorgeous in it - as you did in absolutely anything, but there was a special charm to this particular sight. Fuck, he could feel his cock hardening already.

The rest of the night goes by uneventfully - although not exactly easily. Yuta had to spend the whole time fighting his own desires and the erection that threatened to sprung up and make things a lot more awkward. When you both finally get back home and return the shirt to his hands, he almost feels desolated. Almost, because the chance to sleep with a piece of clothing that smells like you again is enough to have him in high spirits.

The third time Yuta gets to see you in one of his clothes is in a more permanent situation. One he admits he lucked out on, a bold strike of fortune he will be forever thankful for. After you first moved in, you requested to share the space of his large office - the only spare room in the apartment. He agreed, obviously, he couldn’t say no to you, so he just let you set up your easel and materials in the office, but in the beginning it was awkward. Overtime, though, he grew comfortable in your presence - and learned to watch you paint from the occasional reflections on his monitor.

Besides, Yuta couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the sight of you working on your pieces. Although you could be a powerful distraction, sitting in front of your easel, wearing only small shorts and an old shirt - even this casual, you were gorgeous. At times, it was an exercise in self control, one he didn’t always win, forcing Yuta to take breaks from his work just to leave the room. Still, he wasn’t really complaining.

One day he catches you frowning while looking at the washing machine, browns pulled together and shoulders slumped. When he asks you what's wrong, you pull a torn up garment from inside the machine - from the gray color and paint stains he recognizes it as the remains of your old work shirt. As you mumble about needing to retire another t-shirt to put in its place, an idea crosses Yuta’s mind. 

He sees a chance, and he has to take it - or at least try to, while he is feeling brave enough for the task. Sure, if this goes right, you are going to become even more of a distraction than you already are, but fuck it if he cares right now. So as you sigh in frustration, he is quick to offer you to take one of his t-shirts, claiming he has an old one he was gonna start using as pajamas anyway. When you seem hesitant, he doesn't give you time, stepping into his room fast and bringing you a white oversized t-shirt that he places in your hands, insisting you take it.

“Yuta,” he glances at you through the reflection as you call for him, seeing you turn from the easel towards him, “you sure I can use this? It feels so nice, the paint is just gonna destroy it.”

Yuta feels beyond lucky that on the very next day, he'd already gotten to see you wearing his shirt. Though, it's posing a slight inconvenience as now he's having to try and answer you without fully turning his chair around - lest you notice something you shouldn't. He turns just enough to glance at you, body still turned to his screens, anything below the hips mostly covered by the blessed shadow of his desk. 

“I told you it's fine. Is it comfortable? If you like it, you can just keep it,” he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. “This shirt is old, and it was nothing special to begin with.”

He lies straight through his teeth, the plain white shirt had been an expensive one - you'd probably just never know because he'd removed the tags long ago, they always pinched his skin. But he didn't mind that, not one bit, no price could pay for the sight before him. The oversized t-shirt went all the way down to just below your ass, covering a third of your thighs. Better yet, it almost swallowed your shorts, and from certain angles, it looked like you were wearing just the t-shirt. Wearing just his t-shirt. Yeah, he didn't mind the price tag.

You look into his eyes for a long second - a stare down Yuta is driven to win, despite the growing discomfort for every moment he had to spend holding his gaze into yours. But it was for a good cause, at least from the point of view of his own selfish desires. When you hum and look down, he holds his breath in anticipation. 

“Ah, it is really comfortable,” you trail off, glancing at him again before shrugging, Yuta finally letting go of the breath he was holding. “Guess if you say so, thanks Yuta, you are a lifesaver!”

You cheerfully thank him with a bright smile and a sweet chuckle, stretching your arms above your head before going back to work. Yuta can feel his face burning, and he can only hope it doesn't look as red as it feels. You are too sweet, too cute - and it's not helping at all the sick images running in the back of his mind. Oh, how he wanted to have you sprawled on his bed wearing only that shirt, oh the things he wanted to do.

Fuck, now he could feel his pants straining already. Just as he imagined, this was worse than before - though, it was still a price worth paying to see you in his shirt almost every day. If he could have it his way, you'd only wear his clothes around the apartment anyway.

[carpedzem]

hi

under the cut i want to talk a little bit, maybe overshare as well. ill try to keep it short (rereading nat here. i didnt). its a sad post, might make some of you angry but not for the reasons you think

i was staying away on purpose, but a few people asked about me so i wanted to let you know that hey, im lurking, im waiting to see what happens. maybe some things will change in the future but im putting it out here so its all in one place

i think i want to start with saying thank you again for sticking around, supporting my art and my thoughts and having discussions with me. i really opened up about myself and what I created here. im very anxious person and it influences my life on every level, so being heard, seeing people laughing at my jokes, loving my art has been so so important to me

about the situation, the gogcident if you will, i logged out as soon as i saw things going down and been getting updates though different source. and while situation is still on going and i dont know where it will go, as how it ends, theres two or three things im firm on that will always be true for me:

i really hate how believe all victims turns into believe everyone who speaks first, no matter what they say, no matter context, no matter proof. the first statement made in this case was untrue in a lot of important details and while i dont think caitis feeling are wrong or invalid i think her first statement made this situation into something it isnt. i think every victim should be heard but attacking everyone who was accused right away is not a solution

i do believe that everyone who was accused of anything has every right to defend themselves. the way its constantly taken away from dteam is not lost on me and its insane and upsetting

you can be traumatized by the events that werent in its core meant to be traumatizing. sometimes people act shitty and leave scars on you and sometimes you can do the same to other people

edited note bc i want this to be here as well: guilty until proven innocent is a crazy mindset and i cannot imagine situation that i would allow it. some idiots dont even realise how dangerous rhetoric that is. including accusers not being obligated to provide any proof of their claims

twt is the worst thing to deal with any discourse, misunderstanding or any delicate situation. i think no ones there cares for any victims period. i wish that place the worst

okay so what now. i havent decided yet. georges and dreams moves so far confirmed for me that no matter what happened it wasnt with malicious intentions. ill wait to see how this plays out and then ill decide about my next steps. one think i did for sure is i uninstalled twt from my phone (and that already bit my ass the moment dream started his space…) that part of fandom, both people who like (liked?) and hate dream is so damn self-destructive, toxic, manipulative and performative it wasnt worth it anymore. for here, i dont know yet. i dont hate dteam, i think this is very unfortunate and sad and complicated situation that left people very deeply hurt. and i wish it wasnt this way and im pretty sure dteam also wish that. but they cant change it and i cant change it even more

now this is something i dont really know how to tell you but let me try. i never mentioned this bc when i had those realizations, it was too late, everyone moved on and i felt stupid for dwelling on this. i feel stupid now, typing this. the thing is, drituation left me quite traumatized. fucking pathetic, i know. the sudden explosion of fandom left me really badly hurt. i lost a lot of people i genuinely believed to be friends with, and i miss them dearly. i felt, fuck it, still feel deeply betrayed by some of them. i dont want people guess who is who thats not the point, those people moved on long time ago. but that hurt has been really difficult to deal with, especially since realistically i know its quite stupid. crying over some people who were following me back for a few months? but i tried to let myself heal and grow love for this community again and i thought we will be okay. drituation felt like the end of the world but we got through it and I thought we are smarter. and well. im not trying to blame anyone or even a whole community, idk maybe i want to blame the universe for putting me here or society for working this way i dont know. but im hurting and i need to find a better way to deal with things going the wrong way. and it deeply upsets me but im afraid that i have to learn how to love you all less. and i honestly dont know yet what that means, how moving forward will look like. i dont have to make this decision now so i let myself stay away from social media for a while still and then go with presented situation the best i can. i dont try to make anyone responsible for my wellbeing i want to make this clear. im just trying to share my feelings and give you context for whatever happen in the nearest future. no matter what i need more healthy relationship not even with ccs but with community itself (and if you see me rebloging hazbin hotel fanarts. spare me...)

in this place i do want to state that no matter what i dont think dteam are bad people. im not closing myself at possibility of participating in the fandom, probably less though things i mentioned earlier. but if any of those things make you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to unfollow/softblock

im leaving my askbox open if anyone has anything to say, add, or idk, scream at me. not sure if i answer any tho. also if i delete this post in the next 10 minutes out of embarrassment then well, haha

on the final note i want once again thank you all for supporting me when i needed help for my cat. you all did something amazing, something i will never forget and i wish to hug everyone of you in person. thank you

see you around. one day. maybe tomorrow maybe in 10 days. idk

and if you are moving on in different direction, if we ever meet again, dont be a stranger

[soracities]

Hey! It has been on my mind lately and i just wanna ask..idk if it would make sense but i just noticed that nowadays ppl cant separate the authors and their books (ex. when author wrote a story about cheating and ppl starts bashing the author for romanticizing cheating and even to a point of cancelling the author for not setting a good/healthy example of a relationship) any thoughts about it?

I have many, many thoughts on this, so this may get a little unwieldy but I'll try to corall it together as best I can.

But honestly, I think sometimes being unable to separate the author from the work (which is interesting to me to see because some people are definitely not "separating" anything even though they think they are; they just erase the author entirely as an active agent, isolate the work, and call it "objectivity") has a lot to do with some people being unable to separate the things they read from themselves.

I'm absolutely not saying it's right, but it's an impulse I do understand. If you read a book and love it, if it transforms your life, or defines a particular period of your life, and then you find out that the author has said or done something awful--where does that leave you? Someone awful made something beautiful, something you loved: and now that this point of communion exists between you and someone whose views you'd never agree with, what does that mean for who you are? That this came from the mind of a person capable of something awful and spoke to your mind--does that mean you're like them? Could be like them?

Those are very uncomfortable questions and I think if you have a tendency to look at art or literature this way, you will inevitable fall into the mindset where only "Good" stories can be accepted because there's no distinction between where the story ends and you begin. As I said, I can see where it comes from but I also find it profoundly troubling because i think one of the worst things you can do to literature is approach it with the expectation of moral validation--this idea that everything you consume, everything you like and engage with is some fundamental insight into your very character as opposed to just a means of looking at or questioning something for its own sake is not just narrow-minded but dangerous.

Art isn't obliged to be anything--not moral, not even beautiful. And while I expend very little (and I mean very little) energy engaging with or even looking at internet / twitter discourse for obvious reasons, I do find it interesting that people (online anyway) will make the entire axis of their critique on something hinge on the fact that its bad representation or justifying / romanticizing something less than ideal, proceeding to treat art as some sort of conduit for moral guidance when it absolutely isn't. And they will also hold that this critique comes from a necessarily good and just place (positive representation, and I don't know, maybe in their minds it does) while at the same time setting themselves apart from radical conservatives who do the exact same thing, only they're doing it from the other side.

To make it abundantly clear, I'm absolutely not saying you should tolerate bigots decrying that books about the Holocaust, race, homophobia, or lgbt experiences should be banned--what I am saying, is that people who protest that a book like Maus or Persepolis is going to "corrupt children", and people who think a book exploring the emotional landscape of a deeply flawed character, who just happens to be from a traditionally marginalised group or is written by someone who is, is bad representation and therefore damaging to that community as a whole are arguments that stem from the exact same place: it's a fundamental inability, or outright refusal, to accept the interiority and alterity of other people, and the inherent validity of the experiences that follow. It's the same maniacal, consumptive, belief that there can be one view and one view only: the correct view, which is your view--your thoughts, your feelings.

There is also dangerous element of control in this. Someone with racist views does not want their child to hear anti-racist views because as far as they are concerned, this child is not a being with agency, but a direct extension of them and their legacy. That this child may disagree is a profound rupture and a threat to the cohesion of this person's entire worldview. Nothing exists in and of and for itself here: rather the multiplicity of the world and people's experiences within it are reduced to shadowy agents that are either for us or against us. It's not about protecting children's "innocence" ("think of the children", in these contexts, often just means "think of the status quo"), as much as it is about protecting yourself and the threat to your perceived place in the world.

And in all honestt I think the same holds true for the other side--if you cannot trust yourself to engage with works of art that come from a different standpoint to yours, or whose subject matter you dislike, without believing the mere fact of these works' existence will threaten something within you or society in general (which is hysterical because believe me, society is NOT that flimsy), then that is not an issue with the work itself--it's a personal issue and you need to ask yourself if it would actually be so unthinkable if your belief about something isn't as solid as you think it is, and, crucially, why you have such little faith in your own critical capacity that the only response these works ilicit from you is that no one should be able to engage with them. That's not awareness to me--it's veering very close to sticking your head in the sand, while insisting you actually aren't.

Arbitrarily adding a moral element to something that does not exist as an agent of moral rectitude but rather as an exploration of deeply human impulses, and doing so simply to justify your stance or your discomfort is not only a profoundly inadequate, but also a deeply insidious, way of papering over your insecurities and your own ignorance (i mean this in the literal sense of the word), of creating a false and dishonest certainty where certainty does not exist and then presenting this as a fact that cannot and should not be challenged and those who do are somehow perverse or should have their characters called into question for it. It's reductive and infantilising in so many ways and it also actively absolves you of any responsibility as a reader--it absolves you of taking responsibility for your own interpretation of the work in question, it absolves you of responsibility for your own feelings (and, potentially, your own biases or preconceptions), it absolves you of actual, proper, thought and engagement by laying the blame entirely on a rogue piece of literature (as if prose is something sentient) instead of acknowledging that any instance of reading is a two-way street: instead of asking why do I feel this way? what has this text rubbed up against? the assumption is that the book has imposed these feelings on you, rather than potentially illuminated what was already there.

Which brings me to something else which is that it is also, and I think this is equally dangerous, lending books and stories a mythical, almost supernatural, power that they absolutely do not have. Is story-telling one of the most human, most enduring, most important and life-altering traditions we have? Yes. But a story is also just a story. And to convince yourself that books have a dangerous transformative power above and beyond what they are actually capable of is, again, to completely erase people's agency as readers, writers' agency as writers and makers (the same as any other craft), and subsequently your own. And erasing agency is the very point of censors banning books en masse. It's not an act of stupidity or blind ignorance, but a conscious awareness of the fact that people will disagree with you, and for whatever reason you've decided that you are not going to let them.

Writers and poets are not separate entities to the rest of us: they aren't shamans or prophets, gifted and chosen beings who have some inner, profound, knowledge the rest of us aren't privy to (and should therefore know better or be better in some regard) because moral absolutism just does not exist. Every writer, no matter how affecting their work may be, is still Just Some Guy Who Made a Thing. Writing can be an incredibly intimate act, but it can also just be writing, in the same way that plumbing is plumbing and weeding is just weeding and not necessarily some transcendant cosmic endeavour in and of itself. Authors are no different, when you get down to it, from bakers or electricians; Nobel laureates are just as capable of coming out with distasteful comments about women as your annoying cousin is and the fact that they wrote a genre-defying work does not change that, or vice-versa. We imbue books with so much power and as conduits of the very best and most human traits we can imagine and hope for, but they aren't representations of the best of humanity--they're simply expressions of humanity, which includes the things we don't like.

There are some authors I love who have said and done things I completely disagree with or whose views I find abhorrent--but I'm not expecting that, just because they created something that changed my world, they are above and beyond the ordinarly, the petty, the spiteful, or cruel. That's not condoning what they have said and done in the least: but I trust myself to be able to read these works with awareness and attention, to pick out and examine and attempt to understand the things that I find questionable, to hold on to what has moved me, and to disregard what I just don't vibe with or disagree with. There are writers I've chosen not to engage with, for my own personal reasons: but I'm not going to enforce this onto someone else because I can see what others would love in them, even if what I love is not strong enough to make up for what I can't. Terrance Hayes put perfectly in my view, when he talks about this and being capable of "love without forgiveness". Writing is a profoundly human heritage and those who engage with it aren't separate from that heritage as human because they live in, and are made by, the exact same world as anyone else.

The measure of good writing for me has hardly anything to do with whatever "virtue" it's perceived to have and everything to do with sincerity. As far as I'm concerned, "positive representation" is not about 100% likeable characters who never do anything problematic or who are easily understood. Positive representation is about being afforded the full scope of human feelings, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and not having your humanity, your dignity, your right to exist in the world questioned because all of these can only be seen through the filter of race, or gender, religion, or ethicity and interpreted according to our (profoundly warped) perceptions of those categories and what they should or shouldn't represent. True recognition of someone's humanity does not lie in finding only what is held in common between you (and is therefore "acceptable", with whatever you put into that category), but in accepting everything that is radically different about them and not letting this colour the consideration you give.

Also, and it may sound harsh, but I think people forget that fictional characters are fictional. If I find a particularly fucked up relationship dynamic compelling (as I often do), or if I decide to write and explore that dynamic, that's not me saying two people who threaten to kill each other and constantly hurt each other is my ideal of romance and that this is exactly how I want to be treated: it's me trying to find out what is really happening below the surface when two people behave like this. It's me exploring something that would be traumatizing and deeply damaging in real life, in a safe and fictional setting so I can gain some kind of understanding about our darker and more destructive impulses without being literally destroyed by them, as would happen if all of this were real. But it isn't real. And this isn't a radical or complex thing to comprehend, but it becomes incomprehensible if your sole understanding of literature is that it exists to validate you or entertain you or cater to you, and if all of your interpretations of other people's intentions are laced with a persistent sense of bad faith. Just because you have not forged any identity outside of this fictional narrative doesn't mean it's the same for others.

Ursula K. le Guin made an extremely salient point about children and stories in that children know the stories you tell them--dragons, witches, ghouls, whatever--are not real, but they are true. And that sums it all up. There's a reason children learning to lie is an incredibly important developmental milestone, because it shows that they have achieved an incredibly complex, but vitally important, ability to hold two contradictory statements in their minds and still know which is true and which isn't. If you cannot delve into a work, on the terms it sets, as a fictional piece of literature, recognize its good points and note its bad points, assess what can have a real world impact or reflects a real world impact and what is just creative license, how do you possible expect to recognize when authority and propaganda lies to you? Because one thing propaganda has always utilised is a simplistic, black and white depiction of The Good (Us) and The Bad (Them). This moralistic stance regarding fiction does not make you more progressive or considerate; it simply makes it easier to manipulate your ideas and your feelings about those ideas because your assessments are entirely emotional and surface level and are fuelled by a refusal to engage with something beyond the knee-jerk reaction it causes you to have.

Books are profoundly, and I do mean profoundly, important to me-- and so much of who I am and the way I see things is probably down to the fact that stories have preoccupied me wherever I go. But I also don't see them as vital building blocks for some core facet or a pronouncement of Who I Am. They're not badges of honour or a cover letter I put out into the world for other people to judge and assess me by, and approve of me (and by extension, the things I say or feel). They're vehicles through which I explore and experience whatever it is that I'm most caught by: not a prophylactic, not a mode of virtue signalling, and certainly not a means of signalling a moral stance.

I think at the end of the day so much of this tendency to view books as an extension of yourself (and therefore of an author) is down to the whole notion of "art as a mirror", and I always come back to Fran Lebowitz saying that it "isn't a mirror, it's a door". And while I do think it's important to have that mirror (especially if you're part of a community that never sees itself represented, or represented poorly and offensively) I think some people have moved into the mindset of thinking that, in order for art to be good, it needs to be a mirror, it needs to cater to them and their experiences precisely--either that or that it can only exist as a mirror full stop, a reflection of and for the reader and the writer (which is just incredibly reductive and dismissive of both)--and if art can only exist as a mirror then anything negative that is reflected back at you must be a condemnation, not a call for exploration or an attempt at understanding.

As I said, a mirror is important but to insist on it above all else isn't always a positive thing: there are books I related to deeply because they allowed me to feel so seen (some by authors who looked nothing like me), but I have no interest in surrounding myself with those books all the time either--I know what goes on in my head which is precisely why I don't always want to live there. Being validated by a character who's "just like me" is amazing but I also want--I also need-- to know that lives and minds and events exist outside of the echo-chamber of my own mind. The mirror is comforting, yes, but if you spend too long with it, it also becomes isolating: you need doors because they lead you to ideas and views and characters you could never come up with on your own. A world made up of various Mes reflected back to me is not a world I want to be immersed in because it's a world with very little texture or discovery or room for growth and change. Your sense of self and your sense of other people cannot grow here; it just becomes mangled.

Art has always been about dialogue, always about a me and a you, a speaker and a listener, even when it is happening in the most internal of spaces: to insist that art only ever tells you what you want to hear, that it should only reflect what you know and accept is to undermine the very core of what it seeks to do in the first place, which is establish connection. Art is a lifeline, I'm not saying it isn't. But it's also not an instruction manual for how to behave in the world--it's an exploration of what being in the world looks like at all, and this is different for everyone. And you are treading into some very, very dangerous waters the moment you insist it must be otherwise.

Whatever it means to be in the world, it is anything but straightforward. In this world people cheat, people kill, they manipulate, they lie, they torture and steal--why? Sometimes we know why, but more often we don't--but we take all these questions and write (or read) our way through them hoping that, if we don't find an answer, we can at least find our way to a place where not knowing isn't as unbearable anymore (and sometimes it's not even about that; it's just about telling a story and wanting to make people laugh). It's an endless heritage of seeking with countless variations on the same statements which say over and over again I don't know what to make of this story, even as I tell it to you. So why am I telling it? Do I want to change it? Can I change it? Yes. No. Maybe. I have no certainty in any of this except that I can say it. All I can do is say it.

Writing, and art in general, are one of the very, very, few ways we can try and make sense of the apparently arbitrary chaos and absurdity of our lives--it's one of the only ways left to us by which we can impose some sense of structure or meaning, even if those things exists in the midst of forces that will constantly overwhelm those structures, and us. I write a poem to try and make sense of something (grief, love, a question about octopuses) or to just set down that I've experienced something (grief, love, an answer about octpuses). You write a poem to make sense of, resolve, register, or celebrate something else. They don't have to align. They don't have to agree. We don't even need to like each other much. But in both of these instances something is being said, some fragment of the world as its been perceived or experienced is being shared. They're separate truths that can exist at the same time. Acknowledging this is the only means we have of momentarily bridging the gaps that will always exist between ourselves and others, and it requires a profound amount of grace, consideration and forbearance. Otherwise, why are we bothering at all?