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#i know about statistics and things and like society i know it's because that's the usual role of a wife in a marriage i'm not stupid but i
max1461 · 2 days
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I think the nootropics thing is like, faux-legibility, which is what bothers me. I said I agree with that anon who claimed Western society ("Western society") overvalues legibility, but I think it's more like... Western society ("Western society") loves faux-legibility, metrizability that doesn't correspond to what we actually care about. Because I do like legibility. One of the reasons I don't mind caffeine is that its effects on me feel very legible, phenomenologically. I drink a cup of coffee and instantly I feel a noticeably more awake, maybe a little anxious if I have too much, this and that. The effect is not too strong, like being drunk, which I generally don't like, because it changes too much and is a confusing, illegible experience.
But see, this is all feelings-based, internal. People talk about nootropics and they're like "I take such and such milligrams of lsd every day and I can't really feel anything but I think it's been making me more open-minded overall, I've noticed XYZ improve in my life since I started doing this". And this is like, this is like awful to me. I mean you do you but like. This is faux-legible, you know some dosage numbers but it's not phenomenologically obvious what's happening to you, you're suggesting that this shit is changing your behavior in some diffuse way that you can't pinpoint? Terrifying, baffling that you would do this to yourself. At least if I drink a bunch of coffee and then find myself sitting around worrying about something stupid, I can be like "oh, obviously this is because of all that coffee I just drank, I can tell I am too-many-cups-of-coffee anxious". Like I'm sure drinking coffee has illegible effects too, literally everything you do has illegible effects, but trying to incur that shit on purpose through some kind of complicated scheme where you microdose this and that just seems disquieting.
It's like... studies, right. Studies say that this and that is true, because we did a controlled trial and it was statistically significant. To me this is the worst type of science. Because like, I don't doubt that if you do your experiments and stats well, the results are meaningful. Sure. But why? Why does the thing happen? What is actually going on. No idea, you just did a study. Whereas with physics it's like, ok there's still a philosophical "why" in the most abstract sense but at a more particular level it's like "this magnetic field pushes on this thing and then makes that happen, blah blah", it's like, it's describing this comprehensible sequence of events, that you can understand the workings of. That's what science is for. To me. No wonder then that nootropics is loved by studies guys, by guys who read this and that study and are impressed by it. No wonder that nootropics is loved by such guys, according to me based on my gut right now.
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sk3l3t0n444 · 7 months
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i wish i wasnt so scared of everything
#i wanna protest and shit but im a pussy and scared of getting in trouble#and i have no way of actually going to one and i dont even know where there is one#i wanna make a fucking difference in the world but how do i even do that#i can barely order my own food how tf am i going to fix the world#and i know that there are others who want to fight for the same things i do so im not alone#but i cant help but feel alone when the only people who feel this strongly about wanting to change the world seem to only exist in history#i know that there are people out there who feel the same way as me but they all seem to have that military mindset#yk thinking of people not as individuals but as an amalgamation of humans#to really make a difference you have to challenge everything they dont want you to challenge#if you see all people as a whole you see the same thing rich fucks do but if you see people as individuals with lives you are challenging it#we arent just disposable like rich white men think we are#we have to treat each other like real human beings and not as part of a statistic#humans werent meant to have this big of a society because at the end of the day we are mammals#you dont see wolves being in packs of millions you dont see any animal doing that and we are all just animals#so if we want to make this big fucking society work everybody has to have the same ammount of power#but with greedy fucks cant let that happen or else theyre just another brick in the wall#anyways im done rambling#i hope you guys understand at least a bit of this is you cared to read
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maddy-ferguson · 9 months
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every time i see the word malewife my life expectancy decreases
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queer-geordie-nerd · 6 months
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I currently have a lot of Jewish mutuals/people I follow and over the course of the last few months, almost Every. Single. One has talked about their mental health declining, that they’re exhausted and terrified, that they’ve become more closed off and lost their trust in people from outside their communities, due to being gaslit and ignored constantly on a society wide scale. Almost all of them have experienced antisemitic abuse or violence personally or had bomb threats to their synagogues and community centres or had swastikas and slurs graffitied on their properties.
The worst thing about this outrage is that none of them are really surprised by it - frightened, sickened, yes - but not surprised. They and their ancestors have had to deal with this shit for thousands of years. And all of them expect - no they *know* - it’s going to get worse.
It’s beyond fucking shameful. We are failing these people on a massive, society wide scale. Again.
So, I NEVER want to see a single one of my fellow goyim say shit like “Jews are just playing the victim,” “the rise in antisemitism is overblown and not as bad as they say because I haven’t seen it,” “it’s just a few extremists,” because NO, IT ISN’T - it’s systemic. Those who aren’t directly perpetrating it are mostly ignoring it. If you won't believe or listen to Jewish voices (if not, why not?) then the cold statistics cannot be waved away.
https://www.reuters.com/world/us/us-antisemitic-incidents-up-about-400-since-israel-hamas-war-began-report-says-2023-10-25/
https://news.sky.com/story/more-than-4-000-antisemitic-incidents-recorded-by-jewish-charity-in-uk-in-2023-with-explosion-in-hatred-blamed-on-hamas-attacks-13071580
https://www.reuters.com/world/how-surge-antisemitism-is-affecting-countries-around-world-2023-10-31/
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I occasionally see people complain that stereotypes of trans women even in our own online communities are often about us being nerdy shut ins, and how they say that’s unfair and inaccurate. But besides the obvious selection bias that in online spaces people who are shut ins that spend most of their time online are going to be more prevalent than those who spend less time online, I feel like it takes a bit of willful ignorance to pretend that nerdy shut ins don’t make up a very large portion of transgender women for very material reasons. Most of the transgender women I know have a few things in common:
We grew up uncomfortable with our bodies
We spent most of our lives prior to transitioning feeling like something is very wrong and feeling like we don’t fit in with most of society
We frequently fantasized about a life that could be different
Again there is a very real amount of selection bias in this because basically every trans woman I know is also mentally ill and spends most of her time online. But again I feel that the material reality of being a person who feels uncomfortable with themselves, feels like they don’t belong, and often fantasizes about a life where they didn’t have those problems very much would cause said person to gravitate towards being nerdy and/or a shut in. And that is intensified if you consider the statistically higher percentage of trans women that are autistic (the autism-transgender connection is a whole different topic but there is a statistically significant overlap). To a person like that, video games, tabletop role playing, and online communities where you can present yourself how you’d like are all very attractive things. And if so many of us gravitated to those things before transitioning, existing in this world that is so deeply cruel and unaccepting of trans women only pushes us further into using those as our outlets.
I won’t pretend to have any statistical or other knowledge to make sweeping statements about that making up the majority of us or anything, and I also recognize there is selection bias inherent to this discussion and that my view is limited as an American white woman. But I will say that I don’t think it should be necessarily surprising or disappointing to anyone that online communities of transgender women tend to focus on talking about the types of transgender women that make up the majority of those communities: the ones who spend more time online
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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months
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Speaking of public health. What was the soul society reaction to the eradication of small pox like?
"You notice there's a lot less dead babies these days?" Iba asked in the middle of one morning's office work.
"Fewer dead babies." Komamura corrected without thinking. "Less is for things you measure by volume, fewer for things you count. We do not measure dead babies by volume."
"Oh. right." Iba nodded. "Yeah, that wouldn't be right."
After a moment, what his lieutenant actually said caught up with him. "Sorry- force of habit from living with a Librarian." Komamura shook his head and looked up from the monthly intake statistics analysis report, peering at Tetsuzaemon Iba through the narrow gap of his helmet. "What do you mean, fewer dead babies?"
"I dunno, it just occurred to me. When I started the academy in the 40's- right after the catastrophe- we did a student tour of the 7th division's recently deceased souls intake queue, remember?" Iba waved his hand leaning back in his chair, apparently uncertain of where he was going with this either, but articulating his thoughts.
"I believe so. I had just taken over from Captain Kotsubaki." Komamura nodded, patient. Chikane Iba was an excellent shinigami and had done a magnificent job running the third division, but she had a tendency to talk over and bulldoze her son, so Komamura had learned to be patient when the young man when he felt like he should share a thought.
"Yeah, yeah- Not gonna lie Boss, you scared the crap out of me back then." Tetsuzaemon laughed. "-But the thing that stuck out to me that day was just. The sheer number of Infants and little kids in the line. the guy giving us the tour- I think it was Old Ito, actually- He said that one in five babies in the living world didn't live to see their fifth birthday."
"An improvement even back then- it was one in three children when back when I started in the 1840s." Komamura nodded. "It's funny that I frightened you- Captain Aikawa apparently headhunted me for the 7th because Kaname told him about how the children at the library used to use me as playground equipment."
"Good grief." Iba blanched. "So, what, he threw you in the deep end with all the dead kids?"
"In Captain Aikawa's defense, I did volunteer to handle children's cases. As sad as a frightened infant is, it's infinitely preferable than dealing with the deceased who are angry."
Iba frowned, opened his mouth like he was about to object, reconsidered, closed it, considered further, rocking his head from side to side, and then nodded. "I- yeah, Yeah, that tracks."
"You were saying though?" Komamura laced his fingers in front of him, leaning forward to listen.
"Oh! Well- not as much these days but back then, every family had like seven and eight kids, you know? And I realized that, well- almost everyone I know has a dead sibling or two? Almost every mother lost a child- Gods know my mother's a basket case but even getting a cold could send her into fits. If something had happened to me when I was a tyke- I don't think she would have pulled through."
Komamura nodded enough for Iba to see his helmet tilt to indicate he as still listening.
"I- I don't actually know where I was going with this, but I was reading that report earlier and there's a note from Shita-san at the end that this is the first month we haven't had a kid under the age of five in the intake queue. Ever."
Komamura flipped though the pages of the report to read the hand-written note at the end. "That is excellent news!"
"Oh! Yeah! It's great!" Iba nodded enthusiastically. "It just- I don't know, I guess it just snuck up on me and I'm so used to hearing something went wrong I guess I don't quite know what to do with good news?" he shrugged.
Komamura pondered this for a moment. "Hm. Well. Take heart, to start. But I see what you mean- it's a tremendous achievement, but not one we contributed to, and a "No Dead Babies This Month" office party feels in poor taste at best."
"Oof, yeah- especially if next month there's an accident or something and there's a whole bunch in the queue." Iba nodded. He considered things for a moment.
"-What happened that there are le- fewer dead babies, actually?" Iba frowned. "-Whoever it is, it would be appropriate to toast them and make an offering in their name to the Gods of Good Fortune, I think. Also do more of whatever they did."
"That IS a good idea!" Komamura smiled under his helmet. Perhaps it was his training as a priest, but he did enjoy an offering of goodwill ceremony. Also, nobody would ask him to drink- just pour any alcohol he was offered on the statue of the relevant deity. "I think- It's probably in our statistics, if the tenth division doesn't have an idea already. Can you collect the cause of death data for young children for the last-"
He was interrupted by the thunderous footsteps of someone sprinting towards the office, immediately followed by a tall young woman with short white hair throwing the door open, red-faced and winded.
"THEY DID IT! THE MAD BASTARDS THEY DID IT!" She shouted with wild excitement.
"Isane-? Uh, Miss Kotetsu?" Iba flustered.
"Please keep your voice down-" Komamura said through gritted teeth, trying not to growl at being suddenly shouted at. "Who has-?"
He was interrupted by Miss Kotetsu bolting right up to his desk and shoving a newspaper into his face hard enough to actually wrap around his helmet in excitement.
"SMALLPOX! IT'S GONE!!" She shrieked with joy.
"-gone?" Iba asked, bewildered as Komamura gently took the newspaper from her and pulled it back to actually read it. It was a newspaper from the living world, dated that morning- someone had gone through some pains to get it back to the Seireitei at speed, but the news was worth it:
SMALLPOX IS DEAD!
"TOTALLY ERADICATED! EXTINCT! KAPUT! IT HAS CEASED TO BE!" She bounced excitedly. "IT IS AN EX-PANDEMIC!"
"So like. Nobody has it this year?" Iba tried.
"Nobody has it this year, or will ever have it again, if I'm reading this right." Komamura muttered in awe. "Thanks to an aggressive worldwide vaccination and disease protocol program, there have been no human cases of the disease for several years. Since there are no people infected, there is no way for the disease to come back..."
Both men stared into space, the news almost unbelievable.
"Well. That does explain the Less Dead Babies thing." Iba nodded.
"Fewer Dead Babies." Komamura and Isane corrected in unison.
"I mean yeah that sure is part of it because Smallpox was the number one killer of infants in the living world for a long time there, but there's a whole bunch of stuff that's really cut down on infant mortality in the last few decades in particular." Isane nodded.
"We were JUST Talking about that!" Iba said, excitedly. "-Good to know you guys in the fourth are keeping track of that, It was gonna take forever to pull out that data..."
"Oh, could you pull it out anyway Tetsu-kun?" She asked. "-That's most of why I came over- I mean, to share the good news first, but Unohana-Taicho is planning on using this to really push a widespread vaccination program in the Rukongai and having the numbers to back us up would be really helpful!"
"Oh! Uh, sure!" Iba blushed.
"...You know this young lady, Tetsu-Kun?" Komamura lightly teased.
Both of the young people twitched and bowed to him, pointing at each other and speaking at once.
"Oh! I'm sorry Sir, I'm fourth division third seat Isane Kotetsu, i just know Iba because we were in the same class at the academy-" She babbled.
"-this is Isane Kotetsu, she's the smartest person I know and she saved my life from a lizard one time!" He waved excitedly.
"...That lizard was not going to kill you." She sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "-I mean, if you developed a sepsis infection from the contaminated wound it might have made you very ill but that would take weeks and we have antibiotics for that, the lizard itself wasn't all that dangerous."
"It was INSIDE my LEG!" Iba gestured to his right thigh.
Komamura slowly tilted his whole torso sideways at Iba, hoping that sentence might make more sense at a forty-five degree angle. "...How?"
"I. Uh." Iba stopped, realizing his story was maybe not one he should be telling his boss. "I was. um. Out camping with the lads back when I was in the 11th, and a lizard climbed into my cot and I was. not totally awake and thought someone was trying to cop a feel and well you know, that's behavior you respond to with force so I rolled over and tried to stab the intruder's hand and. Uh. Missed."
Komamura continued to stare at him blankly.
"There was. screaming. lotta flailing, blood, general mayhem sort of thing. And in the confusion the Lizard.... climbed. inside the hole. In my leg. Sir." Iba explained, slowly crumpling behind his desk.
Komamura sighed deeply.
"-but Miss Isane was right there and actually kicked Ikkaku halfway across the camp because he was trying to lure it out with a Banana and generally being useless and she just grabbed that sucker and ripped him right outta there and had the wound packed and sealed in less than a minute and I even got to finish doing boot camp!" He rallied, cheerfully waving at Isane in hopes of distracting his captain with how cool she was.
"...What happened to the lizard?" Komamura asked, warily eyeing her through the gap in his helmet.
"Oh! He was really, really human acclimated and sneaked into my medkit rather than go back into the wild, so Harry lives a very spoiled lizard life in a terrarium in my room at home! Though it's actually my sister's room now but he still gets all the mango and smashed beetles he can eat!" Isane nodded cheerfully.
"You named a lizard. Harry?" Komamura asked slowly.
"...Iba-san named him, actually." She blushed.
"Ironically!" Iba protested. "I'm only mostly stupid, sir."
Komamura sighed deeply and once again regretted that his disguise would not let him rub his face as needed. "Alright. Thank you for the announcement, Miss Kotetsu. We will get that data to you in a timely manner- was there anything else you needed"
"Oh gosh, there was something else, what was it-?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember.
There was the distant sound of explosives, and all three of them turned to see what looked like midday fireworks going off at the 4th.
"Oh Right! Unohana-taicho requests your presence at the 4th as. Um. 'Designated Non-Drinker and Unarmed Combat Specialist' because the party was getting kind of wild when I left actually-"
Komamura sighed, and picked up Tenken from his stand and started tying the zanpaktou to his belt anyway.
---
The following morning, a small party arrived at the local shrines to The Gods Of Good Fortune, bearing offerings on behalf of the living world's World Health Organization and the handful of names they'd been able to glean from the living world newspapers, and nursing varying degrees of of hangover.
Komamura lead the party, having gotten them up at a slightly malicious 5AM to be there first thing in the morning. Tetsuzaemon and his friends from the 11th he insisted come along and 'suffer with me, as my sworn brothers' were quite pained but doing their best to hold it together.
Shunsui was a veteran of this nonsense and was hiding the pain very well behind his longtime party companions, Ukitake and Unohana, who seemed so extraordinarily cheerful that Komamura had to conclude that they were both still significantly chemically altered. He couldn't fault Unohana- they were faint and only visible on the rare occasions she let her hair down, but just below her left ear there was still the faint divot scars from surviving her own infection.
Isane had celebrated just as hard as the 11th Division lads, but had also had the good sense to alternate beer and water and take both aspirin and some sort of horrible pink goop that apparently relieved nausea before passing out under a table and had woken up only slightly groggy.
Komamura's new friend Harry the Lizard- a remarkably loquacious and quick-witted reptile -had taken up residence inside his helmet, lightly intoxicated on the cocktail fruits people had kept feeding him, and was politely nestled in the thick fur of his neck to ward off the morning cold.
The rituals of gratitude for this miracle, and asking the Gods to bless those who had worked so hard went smoothly, and Komamura couldn't help but notice when he turned around that Miss Kotetsu had opted to lean on the shoulder of 'Tetsu-kun'.
It was not often Komamura started the day with the feeling that everything would turn out alright, but as he watched Tetsuzaemon cautiously but gracelessly take Isane's hand and her squeeze it back on the way back down from the shrine, he felt like the feeling might stay this time.
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Hello again.
I just saw a very vaguely worded prison abolitionist post talking about how 'if you just make the system better, then the amount of people in jail would shrink' which A) feels rather reform-y for a post starting off talking about how no reform is possible, the system is a lost cause...and B) it feels that these people don't get that there are just assholes out there?
Because it goes on this long rant at the end talking about all the things in the system that would need to be fixed, like helping the homeless, having healthcare focused on the mentally ill, lifting up impoverished communities. And honestly, you know what, sure I approve of all of that...
But then the phrase "Next we tackle sexual assault" is uttered without any context or ideas of how to handle it. And I was like oh for fucks sake... Everything else in this post was like, here's the magic button on how to fix this but then SA is just dropped at the end.
I don't know why prison abolitionists lock up and get defensive when it comes to the question of "what about rapists?" but it seems as though they never fully take it seriously. And while I cannot speak to the full intricacies of the prison abolitionist movement, I'm only starting to be exposed because of someone on my dash I'm considering unfollowing, I can speak to statistics when it comes to sexual assault and incarceration.
Because the fact of the matter is that the vast majority of perpetrators of sexual assault will not go to jail. And so handwaving the idea of the few who have have in fact been incarcerated feels so incredibly dismissive of the hell that survivors have to go through to even get a perpetrator in court. It devalues the incredibly hard work done by the survivor to make sure that the perpetrator doesn't skip off into the sunset.
I don't know, it just got my hackles up. I know too well of how many pupatrators slip through the cracks and of how incredibly hard it is to even get a conviction in the first place. And yet prison abolitionists dismiss even the small percent as an afterthought not worth nuanced discussions.
Sorry for dumping this all into your askbox, it just seems to help to be able to type everything out so it's not just swirling in my head...
The constant pattern I see from prison abolitionists is that someone asks okay, so what are we going to do with the murderers? "Well, if we improve social conditions there won't be as many murderers!" Okay cool. But what are we doing with the remaining murderers? "You know, most murderers aren't even caught, so most of them aren't in jail anyway!" Okay cool. So what are we doing with the murderers we do catch? "You know, putting people in jail doesn't bring the victim back. Most murderers don't murder again!" Okay cool. So what do we do with repeat offenders? "Oh my god, I'm so sick of people constantly asking that question when I've answered it a million times!"
And I think it's because at some point you have to argue either a) you are a genuine prison abolitionist and don't believe serial murderers and rapists should be incarcerated, which is insanely unpopular and will cause 99% of people to stop listening to you, b) some murderers and rapists SHOULD be incarcerated, at which point you are arguing for prison reform and not prison abolition (and this will make you A Liberal, which is the worst thing a person can be), or c) if we solve all of society's problems, nobody will ever commit a violent crime ever again because humans are Good At Heart and only ever do bad things out of necessity or poor social conditions.
I think c) is a ridiculously naive view of the world, held by people who shape their view of reality based on their ideology instead of vice-versa, but it's the most palatable option for a lot of people. So you have to pretend that there's some fixable underlying condition that causes people to rape, because otherwise c) won't work and you're back to the other two options.
So yeah, I think a lot of abolitionists - at least the ones I've interacted with - can come off as though they don't care about victims of crime, because admitting that there are serial perpetrators that will not stop as long as they have access to victims really kind of undercuts the entire abolition argument.
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eternal-echoes · 3 months
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The poll
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I don't think it's just that; I think more and more people are realizing that every child deserves a mother and a father and legalizing gay marriage deliberately deprives a kid of one of them. Orphans and children of single parents always long for their missing parents.
While there are unfortunate circumstances like death of a parent or divorcing an abusive spouse that makes it inevitable, ultimately since children are made through the biological union of a man and woman, their spiritual relationship with them should be preserved.
Since we're not just a material being, we're also of both body and soul. Not Cartesian dualism but Hylomorphism where the union of body and soul makes one nature.
The only two ways a gay couple can have a baby is either through surrogacy and/or adoption. Along with its ethical concerns with buying a baby, a gay couple taking a newly born baby from his/her mother is depriving that child with the much needed bonding time with the mother (i.e. breastfeeding, cuddling, etc). It's illegal to sell a puppy within 8 weeks of birth because it would be too cruel to separate it from its mother,* then how much more devastating would it be when it comes to a human child? And a child's need for a mother doesn't stop when he/she no longer needs to be breastfed, the mother is essential for the child's emotional maturity as well.
Here is a video of Ryan T. Anderson back in 2014. I'll highlight some important points but the whole video is really good.
youtube
Marriage exists to unite a man and a woman as husband and wife to then be equipped to be mother and father to any children that that union produces. It's based on the biological fact that men and women are distinct and complementary, it's based on the anthropological truth that reproduction requires a man and a woman, it's based on the social reality that children deserve a mother and a father. ... Marriage is the institution that different cultures and societies, across time and place, developed to maximize the likelihood that that man commits to that woman, and then the two of them take responsibility to raise that child. Part of this is based on the reality: there's no such thing as parenting in the abstract; there's mothering and there's fathering. Men and women bring different gifts to the parenting enterprise. Rutgers sociologist professor David Popenoe writes, "The burden of social science evidence supports the idea that gender differentiating parenting is important for human development and the contribution of fathers to childrearing is unique and irreplaceable." He then concludes, "we should disavow the notion that mommies can make good daddies, just as we should disavow the popular notion that daddies can make good mommies. The two sexes are different to the core and each is necessary, culturally and biologically for the optimal development of a human being." ... The impact of marriage. So why does marriage matter for public policy? Perhaps there's no better way to analyze this than looking to our own president, President Barrack Obama: "We know the statistics that children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime, nine times more likely to drop out of schools, and 20 times more likely to end up in prison. They're more likely to have behavioral problems or run away from home, or become teenage parents themselves. And the foundation of our community are weaker because of it." ... President Obama sums it up very well: what we've seen in the past 50 years since the War on Poverty began, is that the family has collapsed. At one point in America virtually every child was given the gift of a married mother and father, those numbers right now: it's more than 50% of Hispanics children are born outside of wedlock, more than 70% of African Americans are born outside of wedlock. And the consequences for those children are really serious. The State's interest in marriage is not that it cares about my love life, or your love life, or anyone's love life just for the sake of romance. The State's interest in marriage is ensuring that those kids have fathers who are involved in their lives. ... If the biggest social problem we face right now in the United States is absentee dads, how will we insist that fathers are essential when the law redefines marriage to make fathers optional? ... Think about the social consequences if that's the direction the slippery slope in which marriage redefinition would go. For every additional sexual partner I have, and for the shorter lived those relationships are, the greater the chances that I create children with multiple women, without commitment with either to those mothers or to those kids. It increases the likelihood of creating fragmented families and then big government will step in to pick up the pieces with a host of welfare programs that truly drain the economic prospects of all of our states. ... So for all those reasons this is why the State and all states have an interest in preserving the definition of marriage as a union, permanent and exclusive of a man and a woman.
Also an article supporting some of Ryan T. Anderson's points:
It’s worse to be raised by a single mother, even if you’re not poor.
The reason for this is that fathers tend to be the disciplinarian in the family. They provide the moral framework in his children's lives.
Reminder that even though the Catholic Church does not support gay marriage, it doesn't mean that she hates gay people. There is a ministry called Courage International where people with same-sex attractions are encourage to live chaste and holy lives.
*Original wording taken from here.
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boreal-sea · 4 months
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So something I realized watching a few videos and reading a few articles is that most of us aren’t angry at the idea of AI in general. Many of us are excited to learn about AI systems that can identify cancer better than doctors, for instance.
What we’re angry about is generative AI being used to destroy the jobs of artists (and I mean all creatives here), who have already been dealing with their work being devalued by modern society.
And I’m not sure how to deal with it. I do remember learning that when photography became a thing, many painters were horrified and terrified of would erase the art of painting. It didn’t obviously, and in fact photography because a whole new art form.
I grew up during the birth of digital art. I distinctly remember the phase digital art went through where many people declared it to not be “real art” and that it was “cheating” etc. I’m sure other millennial artists also remember this transition. But graphic designers pretty quickly adopted digital tools, and websites like DeviantArt popped up, and I don’t think there are too many people nowadays who would say a digital painting isn’t “art”. Still, I do imagine there is a gulf between how some people would view the “artistic merit” of a 3 ft tall oil painting hanging next to a 3 ft tall print of a digital painting, even if the subject and styles were similar. So the worries that digital art would erase physical painting was also proven false. And for the record, I think digital art is 100% art. The merit of digital art is equal to that of physical art.
On the other hand, I can’t say these changes didn’t affect older forms of art. Like, photography did affect the world of painting. I don’t have statistics, but it seems like it probably affected the world of portraiture the most. And I wonder if many of the 20th century art movements were influenced by photography. None of my art history classes touched on that and it’s kinda weird to me. There is definitely something about a Dada or cubism or surrealist painting that transcends beyond what a traditional photo of a landscape or a portrait can do. There is no location in the real world with actual melting clocks or people whose faces show multiple angles at once.
And then there was the digital photograph that changed everything again! Film has become a niche art form.
There were specific kinds of jobs lost due to the digital transition, too. I’m thinking of things like murals being replaced by printed banners, or book covers often being done in photoshop. Oh, and that’s another tool that was faced with fear: Photoshop! There was a fear it would destroy the need for professional photographers because everyone could just fix their own photos. Turns out nope, and in fact people skilled in photography and photo editing are still in demand. And of course there’s the loss of 2D animation in favor of 3D animation, the loss of practical effects for digital, etc.
And you might argue that in some of those cases people can tell corners are being cut and that they won’t stand for it, but Marvel movies still make billions of dollars so…
So I don’t know what’s going to happen with AI art. I am NOT saying “all current artists are stupid and wrong, in the future history students will laugh at how stubborn they were to resist this idea”. AI art is not comparable to photography or digital painting.
With a photograph, you still need to compose the image in the frame, you need to position yourself in the real world, you need to know your equipment, whether you’re using film or digital. You also need to know how to process that photo either in the dark room or in Photoshop. These are skills the average person does not have. You cannot tell an AI “that shot was good but can you increase the contrast?” It’ll just produce a completely new image.
I read an article about an art director who was encountering difficulties as the department tried to incorporate AI. They got back first drafts of art ideas from the people employed to work with the AI, gave critique, and the second round was just completely new images that didn’t include the suggestions… because they couldn’t. AI does not understand color theory. It does not have the ability to take critique. It can’t slightly alter the layout of a design.
And all of that applies to painting too. AI (currently) can’t do what a trained art student can do. It doesn’t know that to create a sense of atmosphere you should make distant objects bluer. It doesn’t know how to use human physiology and psychology to draw a viewer’s eyes across a large painting to reveal a story.
AI also can’t replicate INTENTION - and intentionality is a HUGE part of art. WHY an artist chose those colors, that medium, that composition, those tools, why they chose to display it a certain way, why the composition is like this instead of that - all of that adds meaning to the painting that you can’t get with AI.
(Yes, there is an absolutely valid field of art critique that evaluates a piece of art on its standalone value and the message it conveys without the context of the artist’s intent, but that should be compared to the analysis that DOES include the artist’s intent! That comparison can bring about so much understanding!)
Anyway I’m going to end this post now because it has gotten WAY too long. I focused mostly on painting and photography in this post because those are my particular fields of speciality, but this applies to ALL ART. It applies to music and writing and scripting and acting and composing music and just. Everything. All art.
I don’t think there are any forms of art AI doesn’t threaten. Now granted, AI can’t currently pick up a paint brush. It can’t use a crochet needle. It can’t hold a camera. And maybe there will be some sort of return to physical media in response to AI produced digital art. Or maybe there will be a response in digital art to stylistically distinguish it from AI in a way AI can’t reproduce. I’m not sure what will happen. Maybe some proof the image was digitally painted by a real person, somehow. Or that it’s a real photo, or a real article. I saw someone mention there may end up being labels like “100% human made” like we do for organic food lol. Maybe work in progress videos or photo metadata will become more commonplace as evidence of authenticity.
Anyway, NOW I’m ending this post. Whew.
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gold-rhine · 7 months
Text
What the guard dogs are for
There are some things you never want to hear your secret years-long crush saying, such as “I’m getting married,” “I think we should stay friends” or “I’m the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity.” Wriothesley’s very bad, no good day of trying to unravel conspiracy theories, fumbling a tea party with Chief Justice and learning Teyvat’s ancient history and vishap lore from the leading expert lector.
Genre: angst and misinformation campaign
Characters: Neuvillette\Wriothesley, Enjou
Warnings: sfw in a sense that nothing even remotely sexy happens, but there is dissociation, ptsd episode, brief mention of self-harm, and Enjou doing same thing he does in canon, which is not quite gaslighting? Anyway, let me know if you feel any other warnings need to be added.
Chapters: 1 out of 2. Wordcount: ~8k
With his morning tea, Wriothesley riffled through the reports as usual. Nothing was marked urgent, so he started with the most boring part, - the official ones. The production numbers, coupon consumption statistics, everything is prepared for Neuvillette’s upcoming inspection, which was mostly a formality, but he would want it to go as smoothly as possible. 
Reports from the surface informants. Traveler stirring up a ruckus with the research institute… Well, about time, that pit couldn’t go on forever pretending that massive explosions are just a part of science routine. 
Next, creatures called “vishaps” appeared recently in Erinnyes Forest. These vishaps are apparently a lesser form of dragons, and connected to Liyue vishaps, also lizard-like creatures, though in Liyue they are aligned with geo, not hydro. Non-hostile to humans, aside from one accident. But in that one they fought back against the hunters sent by nobles to capture them as novelty pets. So the only regrettable part was that they didn’t get the nobles, only their lackeys. For shame. 
Next, there are gangs with new lingo going around, which generally was a good thing to pay attention to as they usually ended up in Meropide. Wriothesley frowned, reading the lingo translations, as he suddenly felt old. “Trendy Zaytun Peach” was something he’d got called for taking it up the ass a lot in his days, but now it’s a hip and cool nickname with the youngsters. 
Informal internal reports. Victims of beret society are rehabilitating fine, preparations for the wedding are underway. Good. Albert, a new guy from the shop, is sending him tea. Quite good tea at that. Obviously a bribe attempt, though he didn’t ask for anything as of yet, so it was basically free. Everything was fair in love and bribes as far as Wriothesley was concerned. You could throw everything at the feet of your beloved as to the feet of your targeted bureaucrat, and receive nothing and you would have no claim to complain. Now, the fact he wouldn’t take it into account when making decisions about their proposals, and sometimes would even consider it a negative, was a different matter altogether. 
He perked up reading the last report. There was a new conspiracy, whose agenda was not very clear, as they were more careful than the others, but the gist was something against Neuvillette, so Wriothesley was tracking it for some time. It was hard to get anything concrete though, as they were pretty good at keeping a low profile, but now apparently one of the members by the name of Jacque got into the Fortress on unrelated charges, and he was reportedly not the brightest shank on the block. 
Wriothesley made the arrangements. 
Half an hour later, he happened to stroll by when Jacque was being beaten up by three guys in the shadowy corner. 
“Hey, what’s going on here? Leave him alone!” he said, walking up to them.
“Oh yeah?”, said one of the bullies, turning to him. “Well, make me!”
They were paid double for the pretend fight. It might have been an overkill, usually Wriothesley would go for just scaring them off without combat. Especially because anyone who’s been in the Fortess for some time or had a head on their shoulders would understand that nobody would try to openly fight the Duke outside of the fight club arena. But Jacque was as fresh as they get, allegedly stupid, and it was Wriothesley’s first chance at any info in two whole months, so he decided to make it as impressive as possible.
He went as easy on the guys as he could, they theatrically threw the fight and retreated. 
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to the guy in the corner and putting his hand on his shoulder for emphasis. 
“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine,” Jacque muttered, shaking his head. 
“Why did they attack you?”
“They don’t want me to spread the truth...” Jacque said with heavy emphasis. “But uh, thanks for helping me out.” 
“No need to thank me. I feel bad enough that honest folk like yourself get picked on in MY Fortress. That’s not how I want to run my place, so it’s only natural that I stand up for you.”
It took a moment, but finally the guy gasped.
“Your fortress? Are you… the Duke?”
At least he knew what “Duke” is.
“Yeah,” Wriothesley grinned, turning up the charm. “And allow me to get you a couple of drinks to compensate for the rude welcome you’ve received so far.”
He got them to the Coupon Cafeteria, where best meals were already arranged, and generously poured alcohol into the poor guy, listening to the story of his life and misfortunes that brought him to the Fortress, nodding empathetically. He didn’t ask about Neuvillette at all, to not spook the target, trusting that he will come to this anyway, and finally his patience was rewarded. 
“You know, you’re good!” the guy said drunkenly after some time, clasping his hand on Wriothesley's shoulder, which he beared stoically, grinning with all friendliness in the world. 
“You know, they say we can’t talk to you because you’re bought by that lizard, but I think you’re a good guy. You just don’t know all the facts!”
“Which are?”
The guy leaned closer to him and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Neuvillette is an evil dragon!”
Wriothesley choked on a laughter, which was way too obvious to turn into cough even for the dunce this stupid. 
“No, you don't understand! Dragons were enemies of humanity that Celestia conquered. But they come back when killed! They reincarnate! He is a hydro dragon who was reborn in a human form so he could more easily trick us!”
Wriothesley blinked, remembering Neuvillette standing under the rain, and the old children’s song. “Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry….”
“He put our rightful archon Furina on that trial, right? No one else saw the verdict, so he pretended she was declared guilty. He forced her to abdicate and took the power for himself!”
Wriothesley realized long ago that Neuvilette, of course, was not human. It was clear to any idiot who talked to him for longer than a minute in an informal setting, not to mention a lifespan of at least five hundred years. But there were a lot of options other than “evil dragon”. There were old gods who did not receive archonhood, but instead decided to serve the archon, like Liyue’s adepti, and he always assumed Neuvillette was of the same kind. But the idea that Iudex was some kind of evil monster with a grudge against humanity was ridiculous. Especially when he showed up at the Fortress and saved the entire Fountaine and Wriothesley’s own hide from the flood.
“Really?”
“Yeah! We should restore our true archon Furina to her rightful throne!”
Furina’s insurrection? Interesting. Wouldn’t peg her for someone capable of this type of conspiracy.
“And did Furina herself give us her blessing?”
“She can’t speak publicly, as this monster threatens her.”
Hmm, inconclusive on Furina’s involvement.
He spent more time with the drunk Jacque, trying to get more details, but couldn’t get much more than unhinged ramblings on how evil the dragons are and how insidious it was for a dragon to pretend to be a human. He had to leave to prepare to Neuvillette's arrival the next day.
_____
Neuvillette stepped out of Opera Epiclese into the rain and slowed down his pace to prolong the sensation. It was a bit of what humans called guilty pleasure, as he felt guilty from inflicting rain on humans for his own pleasure. Though from his understanding, humans felt guilty because they saw this pleasure as something bad for themselves. Even if often this supposed harm made no sense to Neuvillette. Eating too much food until a human's stomach hurt was at least understandable to see as such, but he heard one of palais’ secretaries say that romance novels were her guilty pleasure. How could humans feel guilty for something as simple as reading? He stopped and asked her why she would feel guilty for reading, because melusines kept telling him that socializing with humans is very easy, you just need to ask them questions about themselves and let them talk about what they like. Well, it didn’t seem to work, as the secretary stumbled, started hyperventilating and emanated levels of panic and anxiety comparable to someone in the defendant’s chair. Sensing human emotions did not actually help Neuvillette in communicating with them, as he could not discern the reasons. He asked her if she perhaps came into possession of any cursed texts? He could generally sense the stench of corruption and there was nothing on her, but there was always a possibility that it was a curse he could not register. She panicked even more and vehemently denied. At this point he decided to give up on socializing, as it was obviously very distressing for humans, but felt obliged to tell her that if she ever did read anything she felt was cursed, to inform him. He hoped it would assuage her fear of reading. She thanked him, stuttering, and after that day avoided him at all costs. 
The rain was a compromise solution in any case. Neuvillette always felt a bit strained and uncomfortable in his body, but after obtaining full dragonhood and most of the memories of past lives, the human shape felt downright stifling. He now remembered thousands of years of being something much bigger, long coils that could easily crush the spire of Opera Epiclese. Now, when he looked at his own reflection, it was hard to comprehend that this small and ridiculous frame was actually him. In addition, all of his memories and instincts called him to be submerged in water. But even with his poor understanding of humans, he realized that seeing the Iudex floating in the river would alarm humans much more than him standing under the rain. So rain was the closest solution he could get at his position. 
He summoned rain instinctively, to be as close to engulfed in water as possible. It was a bit embarrassing that even humans noticed it and composed a rhyme, even if that rhyme was inaccurate. He didn’t cry, as vishaps didn’t cry at all and even his current human shaped body didn’t have tear ducts. The closest he could pinpoint to human experience, as he understood it, was being stressed and desire to be comforted, for which water was his best remedy.
And currently he was quite stressed, looking over the Fontaine laws in an attempt to revise them. The current system that treated justice as theater was clearly imperfect, which he realized long ago. But he never saw himself as authorized to change it, as humans were the responsibility of the archon and even without it, he was well aware he didn’t understand humans, so he knew it wasn’t his place to question the human justice system, to which he was only a temporary guest. But now, as fontanias became part of Teyvat after his decision, and so, a part of his responsibility as Teyvat’s god of life, even if the usurper tried to deny him, he couldn’t ignore the need for change any longer. The problem was that he did not understand humans any better, so it was very stressful to try and restructure their systems of governance. 
He extended a hand, catching raindrops on his palm, when he noticed a silhouette near the elevator to the Fortress, and stopped himself from visibly controlling the weather. 
Wriothesley caught his eyes and grinned, approaching him at brisk pace, umbrella over his head.
“Greetings, Monsieur.”
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
Wriothesley always somehow managed to make a “Monsieur” sound more impactful than Neuvillette could “Your Grace”, despite one being a noble title and another just a polite greeting. 
“Would you like to…?” Wriothesley extended his arm with an umbrella, without actually covering Neuvillette with it. In the past, as a part of playing a role of “normal human”, Neuvillette accepted such offers, though there were not many aside from Wriothesley who dared to approach him with it. But now, as he was a full-fledged dragon, at the height of his power and influence in this land, surely he could afford to discard this role? Surely he could afford to be himself at least in this?
“No, thank you,” he said, smiling and trying to sound as cordial as possible, so that Wriothesley would not think it was a slight against him personally. “Don’t take it as offense, but I actually like being under the rain.”
The Duke smiled back, shaking his head.
“No offense taken, but why didn’t you say it last time? I felt like an idiot forcing you under an umbrella.”
“Really?” Neuvillette perked up, falling in step with the human. “You could tell that I…”
“Hated it? Yeah, for sure.”
“....prefered not to have an umbrella.”
Wriothesley let out a low, guttural bark of laughter that somehow got to the dragon despite him not being interested in humans in general.
“Not only I could tell I disturbed you, but I had to walk on the flowerbed to get to you, and then I trailed dirt in the Palais while everyone here glared at me for the audacity. Meanwhile you walked on the same dirt, but stayed pristine!”
“I’m sorry for…”
“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m just kidding, don’t worry.”
Neuvillette met the greyish blue eyes of thawed ice directly and sensed that he was truly not bothered, which didn’t make much sense. But Wriothesley was one of the very few humans who was not scared in the dragon’s presence. He was, probably, the only one who emanated only positive emotions at their meetings. Neuvillette mostly encountered negative reactions in his daily life at the trials, so he could not tell apart which positive feelings exactly that he read from Wriothesley due to the lack of exposure. But perhaps…
“I wouldn’t want you to feel unwelcome at the Palais,” Neuvillette said after a short pause.
Wriothesley grinned with a careless shrug.
“Then I will be there, even if the rest of your bureaucrats make faces. As I said, don’t worry.”
Neuvilette frowned, but didn’t see much point in pressing this further. After a confrontation with Navia, the dragon realized that his lack of understanding of humans hindered him, instead of making him truly impartial. Especially now that he was de facto in charge of the entire Fontaine government. And practice showed that only direct interaction with humans could give valuable experience, as watching from the Iudex seat did not allow him a nuanced understanding. 
So perhaps, if Wriothesley was a rare human who was not scared of him, and he proved rational and trustworthy in the years they knew each other, Neuvillette could confide in his true nature and maybe ask for advice in understanding humanity?
“Perhaps staying for some tea would make up for this past offense?”
Wriothesley stumbled for a moment.
“Seriously?” He sounded as casual and ironic as usual, but the surprised burst of positive emotions from him was bright and obvious. “After all these years you finally decided to deign my humble office with your presence?”
“It’d be a completely unofficial visit, of course.”
“Sure, sure. It was never my secret plot to bribe you with a tea party, trust me, even I realize my tea is not that good.”
His voice was ironic, but for a moment Neuvillette could see his crooked grin turn into a genuine smile. So, reassured that he was not imposing, Iudex nodded and followed the human into the Fortress’ entrance.
_________
The inspection itself was mostly a formality. The Court of Fontaine technically had no direct authority over Meripode, but it provided guards and substantial resources, and so it had a right to oversee the use of these assets. The actual budgeting was done on the regular in behind the scenes reports though, as the data was not visible in the in person visit. Still, it was a time honored tradition that got Neuvilette to show up regularly.
“Take a seat. It will take me a minute to make tea.”
Neuvilette gracefully sat down on the visitor’s chair In Wriothesley office, folding his hands on the cane. He still sat with a ramrod straight back and perfect posture, but there was a certain lightness to him today, which was hard to put into words. 
“The inspection is over, yet you are still nervous.”
Wriothesley knew he had a poker face good enough to cover it, yet Neuvillette saw it anyway. He had theorized for a long time that the Iudex could sense emotions, but usually he would not acknowledge it directly like this. “I wasn't nervous about the inspection to begin with. But inviting a high and mighty Iudex himself to the tea for years and then disappointing him when he finally accepts would be a devastating faux de pas. They will mock me on the first pages of all the papers tomorrow.”
Neuvillette frowned slightly.
“I must underline that I’m not here in any official capacity, and I would hope I’m talking to Wriothesley, not the Warden or the Duke. If you agree, I would ask that we leave the titles at the door.”
“No, of course,” Wriothesley, who had fantasized about leaving titles at the door and then clothes on the floor for actual years, said quickly, frantically recalculating how he could turn the tea party to wine tasting, which best wines he had confiscated in his storage and how he could make turning on the gramophone and then maybe leaning against the edge of the table in front of Neuvillette look natural and smooth. “Absolutely. I was just joking anyway, don’t mind it.”
“Ah, I see. I apologize, I’m unfortunately prone to missing humorous intent, so I appreciate your clarification.”
With how far the Iudex went out of his way to assure people of his good intentions in informal situations, Wriothesley really didn’t understand how everyone found him so intimidating. Especially because he very often had to interact with assholes in positions of power who did try to intimidate him on purpose and the contrast was very apparent. Neuvillette projected an aura of power without really wanting to, and then tried to over-explain himself to make others feel at ease. His earnest awkwardness was something like the clumsiness of a huge beast like an elephant trying not to step on the gaggle of kittens at his feet.
“In any case, there is nothing to be nervous about. After all, tea is liquid, and it’s really hard to make liquids unpleasant. So far I think only Fonta truly managed it.” Neuvillette drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at Wriothesley. “To be frank, if crimes against water could be prosecuted, Fonta would receive life in prison.”
Wriothesley snorted. “So no sugar in your tea, I take it?”
“No, thank you,” Iudex said politely and then, after a short pause, “And to clarify, I was not serious. There is nothing wrong with people liking sugary drinks, of course. I was just making an attempt at a joke.”
He really was horrendously bad at pretending to be a human. How could anyone hear him talk and still believe he’s a scheming manipulator was beyond ridiculous.
“No, I got it. It was a good joke,” The Duke grinned, placing a teacup in front of Neuvillette and sitting down across the table with his own.
Neuvillette gave him a graceful nod with a little smile and picked up his cup, giving it a swirl before tasting.
“Hmm. Interesting. Poignant. Bitter,” he said thoughtfully, tilting his head. 
Wriothesley was about to mention that this sort was not usually bitter, but Iudex continued. 
“Not by nature, but forced by circumstances. Not nearly enough water to be nourished, so it had to adapt and conserve strength, letting leaves seen as unimportant to die and concentrate on survival of the main branches. But there is not just hunger… there is a dream of rain. An ache of something not ever known, but yearned, longed for, without realizing what it is. But then…” Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment. “It happened. There is a memory of luminous joy of water not gathered by mere drops, but drank in full, overwhelming, a feast after a life of fighting for scraps of morning dew. It had tasted rain at least once in the end.”
Wriothesley put his own cup down, leaning forward in disbelief.
“No way. This was a harvest from a drought year and it’s normally a mild sort, considered unusually strong in this season. How could you know this? Are you cheating?”
“You’re welcome to test me with other samples,” Neuvillette said with an air of a magnanimous ruler granting a boon and put the teacup down with a delicate clink. 
“Oh, I’m taking you up on your word, trust me,” the Duke grinned, but then paused. He didn’t want to spoil the mood, but he remembered how strongly Neuvillette felt about the perceived melusines conspiracy. Wriothesley had to tell him about the evil dragon idiots just to make sure he’s not thrown off balance later. That’s what the guard dogs are for, after all.
“Actually, before we move forward with testing your psychic tea reading abilities, there is something concerning official business that I think you should know. And then we can forget it completely.”
Neuvillette inclined his head with a small smile.
“There is a small group of conspirators, - and I must reiterate, it’s very small - who operate on the ridiculous idea that… uh, that you’re some kind of an evil dragon who schemed to overthrow Furina.”
Neuvillette's smile froze.
“You don’t have to worry about it, really. It’s negligibly small, and well, anyone with a working brain would not believe that you’re a monster in disguise.”
Iudex was silent for some time, not meeting Wriothesley’s eyes.
“Are melusines implicated in this?” he said finally.
“No. No, there’s no connection to them in this stupid theory.”
“Good. That's good. They do love living with humans so much.”
Wriothesley suspected that Iudex was taking things kind of out of proportion again.
“Listen, it’s really nothing…”
“No, no, I understand. It would be so unacceptably horrifying for humans to learn their ruler is a… monster.”
Neuvillette's voice wavered, but his face was impartial, strict, previous lightness gone completely. Wriothesley saw his hands tighten their grip on the handle of his cane a moment before he abruptly stood up.
“I must apologize for impropriety, but I have important business in the Palais which was inappropriate for me to neglect for so long. I must beg your leave to depart.”
Wriothesley stood up too, scraping to understand what he did wrong.
“Wait, it’s not…”
“Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”
Wriothesley shut his mouth, the title feeling like a slap for the first time in his life. The formality and politeness somehow only made it worse. He took a deep breath and willed himself to sound calm.
“I hope you have a nice evening, Monsieur Iudex.”
Neuvillette left in what for his usual dignified pace could be considered a hurry. Wriothesley followed him without being seen, partly to make sure he doesn’t get bothered by inmates and partly on an instinct to investigate. 
At the Fortress’ entrance, he watched Neuvillette walk under the rain, lifting his head upward. The blue strands of his long hair glowed and so did his coat-tails. They extended, shining brilliant bioluminescent blue, trailing behind the Chief Justice, in a moment looking like fish’s fins, then the next - as colossal snake’s coils. Sea waves crashed against the ridge without any wind, rising high, reaching to a lonely glowing figure of Iudex. With bated breath, Wriothesley watched Neuvillette extend a hand, as if catching raindrops - and rain stopped mid-flight in the air, lingering over his palm, waves frozen cresting over the earth. The raindrops gathered in a shuddering spheres, and then stretched upwards, against all laws of gravity.  Wriothesley’s heart skipped a beat as Neuvillette closed his fist and the rain flew backwards to the skies.
Wriothesley stormed back into his office and frantically searched through the reports, pages flying about, until he found the one about vishaps. He looked at the photos, seeing similarities he would never look for before. The dark blue color of vishap’s hide was nearly identical to Neuvillette’s attire, but that was small beans, easily written off as coincidence. Their eyes, bright magenta with white vertical slice of a pupil, resembled Iudex, but there was room for debate, as his eyes were much paler, lilac merging into gentle blue instead of a bright pink, even as white vertical pupil was so similar. What really struck Wriothesley after all this, was actually the little blue feather at the side of the head of both vishaps and Neuvillette. It was identical and looked so… deliberate. It had to be chosen and placed precisely like this. 
Still, this was not enough. He needed more evidence. He needed… he needed answers.
He walked to Jacque's block as quickly as he could without alarming inmates, but when he got to the conspirator’s room, Jacque was sleeping on the bed and a man was sitting on the chair next to him, reading a book. He looked up when Wriothesley walked in and stood up, clumsily dropping the book. He was tall and gangly, had dark hair, Inazuman features and light brown eyes behind the glasses. 
“Who are you?” Wriothesley was really not in the mood for playing games.
“Well, my organization caught wind that you are interested in learning some… historical information, and our poor Jacque is really not the best source, which is why I’m here to answer any questions you have,” the man gave him a groveling smile. “You can call me Enjou.”
“Not here. In my office. Follow me.”
When they got there, Enjou whistled musingly.
“Uh, what a nice office! Must be a pretty sweet gig. I wish I had an office instead of slinking in dump ruins all the time.” He sighed theatrically. “So, I assume your main questions are on the vishap situation. I…”
“Wait,” Wriothesley said, walking up to one of his wall cabinets. “You can’t expect me to just believe you on your word.”
“Oh, of course, of course! You’re free to rough me up a bit first. Maybe a little bit of torture? But only a little bit, I’ve got a glass jaw, haha!”
Wriothesley didn’t live so long as an undisputed champion of fight club to not recognize a freak who gets off on pain. He grimaced, walking up to the table where Enjou was already trying to rifle through the papers. He stopped with an apologetic grin and put his hands up. Wriothesley put a glass vial on the table.
“Drink.”
Enjou raised his eyebrows.
“Are we dining and wining first or?...”
“It’s a truth serum,” it was a secret project of the Sumeru Akademiya, before the sages were overthrown. Dendro Archon reportedly could read the thoughts of people, and sages were trying to replicate the effect at least partially. Wriothesley came into possession of it after using his network to get the sages connected to the needed people in Fontaine institute, as Fontaine was at the cutting edge of mech technology and the sages were apparently building an artificial god. Didn’t pan out for them, but the serum worked. Wriothesley was sure of it, because he tried it on himself first.
“Oh! How exciting! How does it work? Will it perhaps burn my insides in agonizing pain if I lie?”
“Drink,” Wriothesley said through gritted teeth.
Enjou smiled and drank the vial in one shot.
“Well, nothing is burning so far, but the evening is young, haha,” he said, smacking his lips.
Wriothesley took a deep breath.
“Why are you here?”
“Huh? What do you mean? To explain the history to you, as I said.”
“Because of the goodness of your heart? What’s your agenda? Your goal?”
Enhou cleared his throat.
“Well, first of all, I do believe in uncovering and spreading so-called “forbidden” knowledge. But with your particular case can you really question my agenda? I didn’t come to you first. You were the one who sought us out. I didn’t even want to be here! I was doing my own thing without knowing about you, to be honest! But, well, I am in an organization with some unfortunate morons who thought that recruiting a convenient idiot and then sending him into underworld prison to make sure he isn’t heard is a great plan. And then when the Warden takes note of the idiot and gets him to blabber, these same morons go, Enjou, you have to get there, because you’re a vishap expert! Ugh.” 
Enjou shook his head in seemingly sincere frustration.
“But um, yeah, I’m not trying to recruit you or anything. We know how you’ve disposed of House of Hearth agents and how you generally obstruct Fatui’s activity, and we just don't want you to do the same to us. Because we’re not your enemy! So I’m here to provide you with the necessary context to see that.”
Wriothesley drummed his fingers on the table.
“Okay. Start talking about Neuvilette and vishaps.”
“Well, Neuvilette is a Hydro Dragon, that should be obvious. To clarify, Hydro Dragon here means Hydro Dragon Sovereign, because technically all hydro vishaps are hydro dragons. If you didn’t know, which is understandable, as you’re more of a fighter type and not a bookworm like myself, haha, vishaps are primordial elemental creatures, original rulers of this land and mortal foes of humanity. Long before Archons, there were Dragon Sovereigns in charge of each element. Then there was a war with Celestia, specifics of which are not widely known, but we do know that Celestia won, dragons were largely eradicated and the huge chunks of powers of Sovereigns were taken from them and given to the Archons. Hydro Sovereign was killed.” 
Enjou made a dramatic pause, before leaning forward with a grin. “But you see, vishaps reincarnate. Neuvillette is a Hydro Sovereign reborn in a human shape. There was actually an Inazuman prophecy about it, recorded in the Byakuyakoku Collection. That Hydro Dragon will descend in a human form, and it specifically mentions a cane. This really baffles me, to be honest. How could they predict the cane? Why does he even need a cane? Surely not because of any weakness, he’s an immortal dragon, 500 years is very young for him. And the records say when Neuvilette took his position as the Iudex some 400 years ago, he already had a cane. Was he born with it? Like, had he sprung fully formed, with a cane? Did he pick it up as, I don't know, honorary agreement with a prophecy? Or were his fashion choices actually predetermined to the degree that the prophecy knew them millenia ago?”
“Get back on track,” Wriothesley growled.
“Oh, sorry. Hmm, this serum works by forcing you to spell your thoughts out loud, yes? Well, then it’s not my fault I’m even more blabbering than usual!”
Wriothesley clasped his hands together and said slowly, carefully watching Inazuman’s reaction. “Even if he is a hydro sovereign dragon, as you say, this alone does not make him evil, as your conspiracy claims.”
Enjou fixed his glasses. He really had the hands of a bookworm, no work calluses or fighting scars. But there were spots of reddened, peeling skin that looked like burns that didn’t get to fully heal before getting burned again.
“Did you miss the “mortal foe of humanity” bit? But okay, sure. This is Fontaine after all, presumption of innocence and all that. I mean, I can’t read his thoughts to tell you under oath that he’s evil, so don’t take me to court, hehe!” Enjou grinned, clearly pleased at his own joke. “But I can tell what I know and ask some questions. My first question is why, after losing a war and presumably being killed by Celestia, would an ancient dragon god want to serve a servant of Celestia? The Archon, who rules with what is actually his own power? Unless he had some sort of agenda, perhaps? And come to think of it, why would Hydro Archon put a mortal foe of humanity into a position of such institutional power?”
“Are you implying Neuvilette forced Furina to give him the position of Iudex?”
“Well, I wasn’t here!” Enjou raised his hands defensively. “But why else would he become the Iudex?”
“There are higher beings and gods serving archons in other nations. Like Liyue adepti serving Rex Lapis.”
“Morax was known as the prime of the adepti. None of them could compare with him at strength. Same with yokai and Baal in Inazuma, she was the strongest by far. It’s natural that they would accept servitude. But here…” Enjou glanced at Wriothesley with a sly smile. “If you had to make a bet on a direct fight between Neuvillette and Furina, who would you bet on? Come on, I know tales that her own court would not listen to her until the Iudex tapped his cane.”
Wriothesley couldn’t really argue with this. When the Primordial Sea started breaking out, he himself sent for Neuvillette and didn’t even think to ask the actual Archon.
“In that case, why didn’t he just kill her immediately? Why would he play the judge?”
“Well, you see, he would not get his power back from just killing her. It would just pass to the next Archon. No, the Hydro Archon had to destroy her own throne. And running out the ruler requires a long game, as you know very well yourself, You Grace.”
Wriothesley kept a calm face, but something must have given him away, as Enjou grinned predatorily.
“Next set of facts and questions. You know of the infamous Archon trial, of course? When it was revealed that fontanian people are actually oceanids, given human shape by the previous hydro archon, Egeria? And the prophecy of the flood works because Primordial Sea waters dissolve fontanians into their oceanid forms. Well, the flood actually came. Why were fontanians not dissolved?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me that.”
“Hehe, yes. It was because Neuvillette turned them into real humans with his powers of Hydro Sovereign. How generous of him, yeah? The question is, why did it take him so long? It’s been 500 years, and yet fontanians were made human only minutes before the flood.”
Despite a feeble bookworm posturing, there was a shadow of unhinged madness in his eyes, dangerous enough that in any other case Wriothesley would cut contact. But the stakes were too high right now. He needed to get all the information he could out of this lunatic.
“You might also remember that on the same trial it was proven that Furina is not a Hydro Archon. And I can tell you that the actual Archon, Focalors, was in the Oracle machine the whole time. Sorry, I’m not even trying to pronounce that full name, haha!”
The urge to punch this bastard was overwhelming, but Wriothesley kept himself in check, mostly because he could tell he was being baited into it and he didn’t want to give the piece of shit the satisfaction.
“Anyway, Neuvilette had an audience with her right after a trial, and as result she killed herself and gave him power back. You see, Hydro Archon doesn’t have the ability to turn oceanids into real humans. All of you were just… things, playing at being humans,” Enjou said with a smirk that looked more fascinated than mocking. “But Hydro Sovereign, the original god of life, does have the power to do so. And he also, conveniently, has control over the Primordial Sea, which you, Your Grace, already know as he stopped the flood in your own Fortress.”
Wriothesley raised an eyebrow and Enjou smiled with a shrug.
“Again, I was not there! But I do know Hydro Sovereign controls the Primordial Sea, and that there is an entrance to the Sea in the Meripode Fortress. I also know that there was some emergency in the Fortress, where inmates were told to run as close to the surface as possible, and then Monsieur Iudex visited and the disaster was somehow avoided.”
Wriothesley frowned. 
“If he was really a mortal enemy of humanity, why wouldn’t he just let the gates of Meripode break and the flood happen right there and then? We would all be gone and he wouldn’t need to lift a finger. Instead he ran to help when I… when the Fortress called.”
“And what would that achieve? He still wouldn’t get his power back,” Enjou shrugged dismissively and then smiled, almost wistfully. 
“No, you know what I would do if *I* was the Hydro Sovereign with an ability to take human form? And if the Archon who held my power hostage was relatively weak AND had the prophecy involving a flood of the Sea I control? Well, I’d infiltrate human society, take a position of high authority and make sure the humans not only see me as the personification of law and justice, but also respect me more than their own Archon. And when the prophecy deadline is coming up, I’d make sure I have people loyal to me in some key positions. Such as Royal Duelist… and the Warden of the Fortress.”
“He didn’t make me the Warden,” Wriothesley gritted out. 
“No, but he did make you the Duke, didn’t he?” Enjou smirked with a wink. “Our sources say the Court was not thrilled to give the highest noble title to you. And if the Iudex did not throw his own weight behind it, it would have never come to pass. How generous of him.”
It was true, Wriothesley’s own informants reported that the Court loathed to give him a title, let alone as high as the Duke. Neuvillette was the only one who fought for him and fought hard, because usually Iudex’s one word was enough to make a decision, but here the stalemate lasted for two months. They wanted to compromise and give him the viscount, but Iudex wouldn’t budge, so in the end, they caved.
Wriothesley never asked Neuvillette for the title. Neuvillette never mentioned what he did for the Warden and never dropped anything even as close as a hint of asking anything in return.
Unless you see it as a part of centuries long game, where mundane favors didn’t matter, but being called first to the access of the Primordial Sea did.
“Ah, you’re starting to get it, don’t you?” Enjou sensed blood in the water, like a proper shark would. “Then I would orchestrate a public court hearing to absolutely discredit the current ruler and corner the actual Archon. And when Focalors is forced to talk to me…. I would make a bargain. Saving the lives of all fontanians in exchange of getting my full power back and Focalors dying. Isn't it ironic that the dragon playing human was the one to turn human-shaped water things into actual humans?"
Enjou leaned back against his chair, grinning with satisfaction.
“And then I’d have an entire country loyal to me as a ruler, which would make a great foothold to use for attacking Celestia.”
Wriothesley took a deep breath.
“You really expect me to take you on your word? You might believe it yourself, which will pass the truth serum, but the word of a lunatic is not evidence.”
“Oh, of course not! I would never expect you to take my lowly word for it. Instead, why don’t you take Monsieur Iudex’s word?”
Enjou made a dramatic gesture of spilling a heap of conches onto the table. Wriothesley raised his eyebrows, when the other man poked one of them awkwardly.
“Now that I have reclaimed one of the Seven Authorities from the hands of the usurpers, I have regained my true form,” a calm voice that was undoubtedly Neuvillette, said out of nowhere. “I am now a fully fledged dragon, powerful enough to judge the rest of the gods. My final destiny is to judge the Usurper-King in the heavens above.”
“This could be faked,” Wriothesley said automatically, just to argue, but his heart already fell.
“You wound me! These are his words, and I spent an entire night fishing them out for you, I’ll have you know. It’s quite hard to capture this. You’re welcome to listen to all of them and see for yourself.”
Almost against his will, Wriothesley reached out and touched one of the conches.
“…I shall fulfill my vow to judge all of The Seven in turn, even if the sky should fall and the ground give way.”
Wriothesley took an abrupt breath through his teeth. Enjou sighed and stood up.
“I think it’s better for you to listen to this alone. After, you’re welcome to reach out to us, but please don’t make any hasty decisions. I’ll see you soon, Your Grace!”
Enjou walked down the stairs, and by the time Wriothesley got to them, there was no one there. The Duke couldn’t bring himself to focus on that though. Instead, he walked up to one of the wall cabinets and took out a bottle of whiskey he was saving up as a possible gift.
He didn’t bother with the glass. He fell down into the chair in front of the conches and clenched his fingers on the bottle, icy veins springing up from under them. He took a sip and touched another conch.
“…my grievances with the usurpers have yet to be settled... They owe a debt of blood that shall not be forgotten.”
He drank, staring blindly into the distance, and listened, and the quiet words burned worse than whiskey sliding down his throat. He caught himself on a familiar thought. “This can’t be happening. This is too monstrous.” The same feverish thoughts he had when he discovered the truth about his foster parents.
As if by now he shouldn’t have learned that nothing is too monstrous in this world.
“As a survivor of the dragon race who has regained my full dragonhood, I must fulfill my oath and obligations even if it means returning all the water in the oceans back to the heavens.”
It really did sound exactly like Neuvillette. Wriothesley tried to find the lie, something that sounded fake, but not only the voice, but the cadence and word choice fit. And it sounded calm, impartial as usual too. And then there were hydro vishaps appearing in Erinnyes…
Fuck, was it really that easy to fool him? Was he really this big of a fool? He learned to distrust sweet words and warm smiles, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t get caught in the same lies ever again, even if he sacrificed his ability to love for this. But all it took was a seeming opposite, direct and harsh, too cold and intimidating to appear manipulative, but endearingly awkward just sometimes, just enough to make him believe that… That there was something true and clear in this rotten world. That he could trust in *someone*.
“Nothing will stop me from rendering judgment on each of The Seven.” 
He went through all of the recordings, frantically at first, wanting to find contradictions, then, when none were found, numbly re-listening to the few that hit the worst.
“…also the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity. “
Wasn’t it too obvious in hindsight? Why would the Iudex stake his own reputation on Wriothesley’s title? How could you not see it coming? Oh, because you thought you “deserve” it for turning this dog-fighting pit of a prison into something with a modicum of fairness? Because you thought he recognized your redemption? Gods, what are you, fucking fourteen again, did you learn nothing, why would anyone ever care about you, you naive goddamn idiot?
Soon, the bottle was somehow almost done. At this point he was running one recording on repeat, mindless and purposeless except for repeating slashes of pain, familiar rhythm like the knife on his wrists years ago.
"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry." Whoever had penned that rhyme, as well as the Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the Hydro Dragon all that well, considering that they thought the Hydro Dragon could cry. What did they take said Dragon for, some sort of bleeding heart who grieved for humans and the heavens alike?”
If this was true… If this was true, then Wriothesley didn’t just get fooled himself. Then he helped a monster take control of the country and potentially use it in war against heavens. 
He clenched his hand and it took him a moment to realize he broke the bottle he was holding in it. That pain from glass pieces in his palm felt small and distant now. But at last, it spurned him into action.
If this was true, he only had one shot. He’d already told Neuvillette of the dragon conspiracy, like a good little idiot eager to please. And any tyrant worth his salt would make sure to take him out after his, especially now that he outlived his purpose in giving access to Meripode vaults. He might have some time because of how oblivious he was, dismissing the conspiracy openly, but it couldn’t be long. 
He couldn’t take his time. He couldn’t hope for the better. He had to act like it’s the worst option possible. More than anything, he needed to confront Neuvillette, dragon Sovereign or not. He had to fix this, no matter the cost.
He realized he needed leverage. Brute strength was out of the question. Even before the flood, Neuvillette absolutely destroyed Fatui Harbinger in one flash, quicker than anyone in the audience could see what happened. Wriothesley would put himself against Harbringer with no hesitation, but he wasn’t an idiot. If this was how powerful Iudex was before, then after allegedly gaining his full power, there was no way Wriothesley could threaten him. No, he needed something else.
He took out the paper and wrote a note, taking care to not stain it with blood. Fortunately, he held the bottle in his left hand, so he could keep it out of the way.
“....and so confess that I, Wriothesley, Warden of the Fortress of Meripode, killed Chief Justice, Iudex Neuvillette.”
He finished the note and carefully put in his signature, then folded the paper into an envelope and closed it with his personal seal. Then he walked up to a safe, one of the hidden ones, and punched in a code. When the safe opened, he rummaged in it for a moment, until finally taking out two vials.
This was sold to him as the poison that could kill a god.
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It is not even that Mlvns are homophobic. I mean, many of the toxic ones are. We’ve all seen them and interacted with them and received hate anons from them. When Noah’s article officially confirming Will’s sexuality dropped during the summer, people were literally tweeting slurs and fantasizing about him being hate-crimed or dying from AIDS. (It’s probably unfair to group Mlvns in with these people, as lots of them weren’t even Mlvns, just bigoted GA members and trolls). But still. It was bleak. There’s a deep darkness within the ST fandom undeniably.
But I’m sure many Mlvns/Byler-antis are the types of people who genuinely have no problem with queer people in real life. When we call them out on their bigotry and homophobia, they get confused and say, “But I have gay friends! How am I homophobic for not liking Byler?” And they mean it 100%. They really do have gay friends. They probably consider themselves allies and yada yada.
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The issue is that A) they are deeply heteronormative without realizing it, and B) they simply aren’t the target audience for the show, and as such, they don’t really understand or connect to the themes of the show. The thing is, lots of people, many Milkvans included, are simply normies. Now I love Steve as a character, so this is literally no hate to Steve, but lots of people are Steves. And people who are like Steve: popular, straight, attractive, used to dating the types of people they want, into ‘normal’ interests like sports (not that Steve is hyper into sports, but you know what I mean), likely to go down ‘normal’ paths and live fairly conventional lives like their parents, etc. are simply not the target audience for the show.
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Obviously, the show centers on outcasts, nerds, queer characters, characters with disabilities, black characters, etc. Most people recognize this on some level, but they recognize it in more of a general sense like, “Of course the protagonists are nerds/outcasts, just like all the classic 80s teen protagonists. I just love how nostalgic ST is!” And they leave it at that. Because they are normies, they don’t really connect to the themes of the show other than a surface-level, power of friendship sense. They don’t see how Byler is more aligned with the show’s message than Milkvan at this point. They don’t see that the outcast status of most of the characters is more than just a throwaway personality trait… its deeply integral to the point of the show itself and closely connected to the supernatural storyline.
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This is because nerd culture is somewhat mainstream now, and lots of “normies” like it too. Star Wars, Marvel, LOTR, Harry Potter, etc. These are all major parts of society and billion dollar franchises, even more so than they were in the 80s. Because of this, people don’t realize that in the context of the world of the show, they wouldn’t have been friends with the Party most likely. It is far more statistically likely that they would’ve rolled with Angela’s friend group or joined Jason’s human hunting squad. Or even if they weren’t outright bullies, it’s far more likely that they would’ve been one of the nameless background characters in Hawkins High, just kind of floating by in a conventionally comfortable existence, entirely oblivious to government lab conspiracies and alternate dimensions. The characters in ST are outcasts in a deeper, existential sense. Society is against them.
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And so many people can’t relate, especially to the queer themes. They can’t even see the queer themes. Because the show is not for them. That’s why you see so many baffling takes on the show:
“Will is so whiny all the time, and I don’t like him!”
“Mike was right in the rain fight! S3 is about growing up, and Will was acting like a baby.”
“Tbh I don’t care that much about the Party dynamics. My favorite part of the show is Steve and Dustin being funny together. And my second favorite part is Hopper being a cool action hero.”
“B*lly is overhated! I mean, he’s so hot and misunderstood! He could’ve redeemed himself.”
“I don’t get Byler. It barely seems like Mike and Will are even friends.”
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To be clear, it doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy the genre of the show. Being horror/sci-fi, its core fans are a smaller pool of people than, say, fans of The Office or Friends or other popular sitcoms. So the Mlvns who watched it since the beginning probably do have some avant-garde tastes in terms of genre-preferences, since lots of people wouldn’t touch horror with a ten-foot pole. But it does mean they don’t pick up on the themes of the show and the arc of the characters.
(Of course, many newer fans now are just watching it cause it’s popular, regardless of which genres they typically prefer. This opens the show up to lots of people who don’t connect to anything about the show, not just its themes but also its darker content. A lot of newer fans sound like this: “Like, I just love that Mike was in love with El from the day he found her in the woods, and it’s so cute that El is Mike’s superhero, and Eddie is so cool and badass; I wish he could’ve told Chrissy how he felt, and I’m anxiously awaiting S5 to see who Nancy chooses but I hope she chooses Steve… Stancy 4ever!” This is because Stancy is like every other conventionally attractive couple in media).
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I’m rambling, but a lot of people are into Milkvan because of their expectations that “pretty boy and pretty girl go together,” and that’s all there is to it. Finn is attractive and Millie is attractive, and they play the protagonists, so of course Mike and El are endgame. Why wouldn’t they be? This is true for the girls who project themselves onto Millie and see Finn/Mike as a dream boyfriend, and it’s true for the guys who project themselves onto Finn and who would want nothing more than to have a cool, superpowered girlfriend.
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This is the way of nature. In a normie worldview, there’s no deviation from this path. A lot of fans basically take The Kissing Booth/To All the Boys I Loved Before and slap a sci-fi/horror filter on it, and they think that’s what Stranger Things is. It’s a cool show where kids fight monsters, and there are normal, heterosexual romances like Mlvn to root for, and there’s a badass superhero main character at the center.
Oh, there’s a gay character too? Well, that’s weird. I mean, y’all already have Robin, but whatever. I’m not homophobic! I’m cool with Will being gay… as long as he stays over there. Oh, he’s in love with Mike? Well, that’s even weirder. Why would the writers do that? I suppose that’s fine, as long as it’s just a little crush, and as long as it doesn’t get in the way of “the main storyline” and my OTP. I’m not homophobic, I swear! I have gay friends!
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And they do. And they might not actively be against LGBTQ+ people in real life. They may really be telling the truth. But because they are Steves, this is where heteronormativity comes into play and blinds them. Main couples in shows are always straight, so the cool sci-fi, monster show they love must also be. They’re fine with Kevin Kellers, but queer Mike doesn’t fit the box that they allot to gay characters. So Mike must be the straightest character of all time to fight back against “weird delusional Byler theories” that would “come out of nowhere.” It’s not that they’re actively anti-gay; it’s that they are profoundly closed-minded and have a very myopic view of sexuality/storytelling/their favorite characters/their favorite shows. This is very similar to the XO, Kitty situation and people who were upset that Kitty was ‘suddenly’ bi and had a crush on Yuri.
WHAT?! Where did this come from? I thought I was watching a normal rom-com! I was fine with the gay characters on it who were clearly televised from the beginning! But Kitty? No! Kitty’s my self-insert. How can she like girls too? It must be a phase and be “less real” than her male love interests. This isn’t Heartstopper. The same weird energy is present in the ST fandom.
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Byler being semi-canon isn’t seen as confirmation of a love triangle; it’s seen as a disruption to the norm and the foregone conclusion that Mike and El will be together forever and get married and have telekinetic children because the show owes that to them for all they’ve been through. “But why is Will inserted into their scenes?” we ask them, begging them to see reason. “Idk, but he should know his place and stop being a homewrecker and go find a new boy to like. Just leave the soulmates alone. Mike has already made clear he’s straight and that Will is nothing more than a friend. He said it in the roller rink!” This is how heteronormativity works.
That’s why Byler endgame will be so important because it will shatter preconceived notions and open people’s eyes to the beautiful tapestry of humanity. And they will see that this powerful, queer, coming-of-age, love story was right there, under their noses, in their “fun sci-fi monster show” this whole time. *Mind Blown*
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook
𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 [Part 1/Intro]
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In which Jungkook has never fallen in love before- not until you came along, at least.
Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Munchkin Cat!Reader, Siberian Tiger!Jungkook, DDLG aspects but they're very mild in this chapter, Daddy!Jungkook, height difference, strangers to lovers, mild Angst, Fluff!, quiet!Reader, Model!Kook, mentions of death & grieving (but only brief), romance, manhandling, strength kink (implied), biting, hybrid behavior (scenting, marking, grooming and other)
Legth: Long ~7K words
Additional Content: None (yet)
A/N: Dinner is served, but split into multiple courses cause tumblr app can't handle this buffet.
-> Masterlist
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"And this is where most level 4 hybrids usually reside, plus a few of the more social level 5's." The CEO explains, walking into the large hall together with Jungkook and his management.
He's a little upset at some of the things he's seen until now - so many of his own kind kept in a place like this simply because they're alienated by society. "Older hybrids above the age of twenty-one statistically stay permanently in housing, so once they reach that age, they don't have to wear any identification within the facility here." The man explains further, motioning towards some hybrids who sit at a table without any collars on, some eating, others talking.
"Would it be possible to involve some of them into the campaign?" Jungkook's manager asks, while he himself takes a look around, hands in his pockets. It's not often that his hybrid senses notice anything at all- having become more or less 'dull' from lack of use, really, since he's mostly surrounded by humans in his daily life. He's not around hybrids often, so today, it's quite overwhelming.
In an exciting way though, weirdly enough.
Jungkook and his management had been thinking and planning such a campaign to raise awareness and money for hybrid care for a while now. As a hybrid himself, he's pretty vocal about his opinions on certain topics- though, of course, he can't always say what he wants to in order to stay 'brand safe' down the line.
"I wouldn't recommend it, honestly. You know, most of these-" The man motions towards the table where Jungkook can spot a very short-looking cat hybrid, sitting by herself alone with her head on the table, legs swinging around as they fail to reach the floor from the height of the bench. "-Are, like I said, either 4 or 5 on the scale, so they probably won't understand what you want them to do." He chuckles.
"What about her?" Jungkook asks, nodding towards where you sit at the table, wearing a simple cotton dress, socks and no shoes, fluffy hybrid tail hanging almost entirely unmoving down to the floor.
It's unnerving to him. As if you're lifeless.
"Very good eye. I've seen her earlier- I think she could make for a very good contrast compared to you." The manager agrees- though the CEO clearly seems not on board with idea.
"I mean, she's got a pretty face, but that's really about it." He, in Jungkook's opinion, rudely comments, making him harden his gaze at the man. "Listen, when you run a place like this, you've got to stay realistic. She's got a lot of health and social issues and doesn't really respond well at all in general, so I'd suggest we look more into the other hybrids." He offers-
But Jungkook is an untamed tiger that rarely ever listens, so it's not surprising that he just decides to walk over to you to find out for himself what this is all about. Mainly because somehow, something feels off about this whole situation- and also, because there's an odd pull he feels towards you, like he's met you before but can't remember.
When he sits down next to you, with some distance of course, you sit up- looking at him for a moment, as if you're going through the same thought-process he had just moments prior. "Hey." He greets, waving his hand a little, unsure for a moment-
Until you smile, waving back, tail starting to move now. So much for 'she doesn't respond', he thinks to himself.
"You seem pretty bored." He asks you, getting into a more relaxed position next to you, his own tail curling over his lap- something you notice with interest, it seems like. "Is there nothing to do here today?" He asks, resting his head on his hand as his elbow is perched up on the table.
You shake your head. "Never." You answer him, and he pouts in sympathy. "I want to- hm.." You seem to think hard about how to voice out your thoughts. You stutter a lot, no matter how much you concentrate- and since the careworkers here get frustrated with your speech easily, you've taught yourself to talk more shortened to avoid stuttering. "Back home. I.. go to- no.." You seem frustrated now, and Jungkook chuckles- something you might mistake for something it's not, he realizes. "Sorry. I don't talk well." You offer, but he shakes his head.
"No no, you're completely fine, take your time." He nods, and you nod as well.
"Back home." You start again, and he nods, making sure you know he's following. "I took, speaking class..es. Classes." You explain, and Jungkook hums a reply, understanding what you're talking about. "But now.. not anymore. He says- I don't need. Them. Don't need them." You explain, your own hybrid tail now curling around you as well so you can hold onto it, a clear sign of self-soothing. "Because I stay."
"I'm sure someone like you has no issues finding someone to live with." Jungkook offers, and you seem to not take it seriously. "No, really. I know a couple of people who'd love to offer a place for an older hybrid." He shrugs.
"No. I stay." You tell him, almost with a disappointed undertone- a bell suddenly ringing, making you stand up and grab your empty cup from the table. "Uhm, thanks." You say as a form of goodbye, bowing politely to him- before you follow the other hybrids into a different area it seems, leaving him alone at the table until his manager finds him later.
Now he's definitely sure something's not right here.
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The next day when he arrives, still a little sleepy, he doesn't spot you until he almost throws his stuff on top of you by accident. You're asleep in a corner, and a careworker immediately picks up on it. "I'm so sorry- she sometimes sleepwalks!" The lady apologizes, and before Jungkook can even say anything, she's already calling your name, shaking you awake. You don't even seem to realize what's really going on as the worker pulls you away- leaving Jungkook by himself, only trace of you left being a small flower shaped pillow he stares at for a moment. Your scent still clings heavy onto it- though there's a slightly burned bitter hint to it, a hint of something sad.
In a way, he doesn't know if he believes sleepwalking to be the actual reason here. His friend, Namjoon, owns a hybrid as well after all- and Jimin does this too, sometimes, because he doesn't like to sleep alone.
And later, when he's in makeup and the hybrids in the main hall close by are all eating breakfast, he's aware that the facility must be putting more effort into things than usual with him and his entire team present- because he's not stupid. A lot of the hybrids seem confused about certain things, while others flat out appear nervous and uncomfortable by the unfamiliar energy today, bad at hiding their behavior due to their lack of social understanding. Meanwhile you're almost falling asleep at the table, clearly not awake at all yet.
Or maybe you just didn't sleep well?
There's definitely something about you he can't explain. It's like there's a voice inside his head that's not his own that keeps feeding him ideas of what he could do. Maybe he could share his own food during his break with you? He also needs to make sure you get your pillow back at some point. Or he could take it home to have something of you with him-
"You've got an eye on the munchkin?" His makeup artist giggles as she does his hair. "Weird that she's here, isn't it? She doesn't seem like one that's hard to find a suiting home for." She mumbles, and Jungkook agrees with a hum. "One of the workers here told me the CEO denies all potential adoptions though." She shrugs.
"Why would he do that?" Jungkook asks, a little wary of the answer he might receive. After all, he's heard many horror stories of what goes on behind closed doors in some hybrid shelters.
"I mean, it's a rumor but-" She sighs. "-So her old owner was a retired hybrid specialist, right? He died of old age about two or three years ago, according to an employee I spoke with earlier." She explains, switching to a different comb to fix his hair into place. "But that's where it gets weird. Her old owner, right? Well he like, created a trust fund for her in case something was to happen to him, so she would be taken care of financially." She explains further what she's heard. "But, when she was given into the care of this center, apparently, the CEO took advantage of her grieving, and is now using the money for himself."
"Explains why he would want to keep her here." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself. "Because as long as she's here.."
"He can justify using the money to cover her expenses." She finishes for him.
"That's fucked up." Jungkook says. "Is there any proof of it?" He wonders, and she shrugs.
"Well the worker said she herself is pretty vocal about it. She knows what's going on- but no one believes her, because the CEO has her under file as a category 5 even though she's not." She tells him. "I mean, it's smart. Legally speaking, nothing she says would ever be taken into consideration because of that. I remember, my aunt has a 5 who witnessed someone getting assaulted near a grocery store when they went to Busan last year. But nothing he was saying could be taken as evidence basically because the legal system is so oddly structured." She sighs.
"It's a mess, isn't it." The model talks to himself mostly, phone in his hand as he spins it around. "I tend to forget how screwed up the system really is." He says.
"Well, a lot of people tend to forget you're part hybrid as well." She giggles, finishing up. It's true- while he's got his tail and his ears, he's become a pro at acting human- ignoring his own instincts in daily life to instead cater to the broader audience of the human world rather than appealing to his own kind. "Maybe this is all a good idea. An opportunity." She offers.
"Opportunity for what?" He wonders, and she shrugs.
"Who knows."
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The more he observes and interacts with you, the less it makes sense to him how you could ever pass as a category 5 hybrid.
Sure, you've got some trouble articulating yourself, but you're also clearly aware of everything going on around you, you're very emotionally intelligent, you understand social concepts perfectly fine, and you're also pretty independent. You don't need much help with things others of your alleged category clearly struggle with.
He'd spotted you helping many of the other hybrids to button up their coats or tie their shoes (though he has to admit, your tying seemed like it was a pretty challenging task to you) or even collect the dishes and balance them perfectly fine to offer some aid to the kitchen staff at lunch. He knows what category 5 have problems with, they typically struggle with tasks like that. He's lived with one growing up, after all; the younger boy next door always coming over during the holidays because his parents were friends with his owners.
But you? No, you don't share much of those characteristics typical.
Maybe there really is some truth to those rumors going around.
"What're they doing?" He asks a janitor, who looks surprised to be acknowledged, before he watches all the hybrids as well as they all get dressed into outdoor-clothes.
"Oh, Every week they get outdoor activities, you know, to keep them healthy!" The elderly man nods. "Keeps the immune system up and running." He laughs, and Jungkook nods, agreeing. "You look like you want to go with them? If you ask Penny over there, she might let you tag along." He offers, and Jungkook decides, on the spot-
yeah, he wants to tag along.
So he finds his manager, tells him his plan- and leaves, before he can argue too much- though the man doesn't even attempt to do so, seemingly happy that Jungkook is growing friendly with you.
"Oh, careful." Jungkook says, holding the door for you as it almost closes behind another hybrid who'd forgotten to hold it himself. You look up at him, nodding, before you walk outside with him right behind you. "The janitor said you go outside every week." He attempts conversation, and you nod, in typical fashion, looking at the other hybrids in front of you holding hands as they walk behind each other in pairs.
All but you.
"You can hold mine, if you want." Jungkook tells you, and he can't help but grin a bit adoringly at the way you almost instantly take the offer, hand grabbing his as you hold onto it with confidence- your steps becoming a bit more bouncy as if boosted by his presence. It makes his own tail sway rhythmically with every step as well, especially when you all stop at a red light and he swears he can hear you purr under your breath, ears moving around to catch every noise it seems. "You're cute." He comments, and you look up at him with a smile.
"Thank you." You tell him, before you both follow the group of hybrids and the workers to a large field, most hybrids already running to get balls and other items to play with. "Do you.. sport?" You ask. "Like?"
"I do. I like sports a lot, actually." He nods, and you nod as well, watching the other hybrids. "You?" He wonders, and you huff a bit in disappointment, though you nod.
"Makes me.." Your hand goes to your upper chest, before pointing at it. "Cough." You try and explain and he hums in understanding.
"Asthma?" He asks, wondering if you know what he's talking about- and much to his surprise, you nod.
"I need, plastic..thing." You explain, hands gesturing as if to map out the inhaler as you're unable to recall the word in the moment. But the way he keeps reassuring you, keeps treating you so normally, makes you confident in communicating with him. "But- he says, no." You shake your head.
"The CEO?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down on the grass, leading him to do so as well, though he gently points to his lap for you to sit on. "So your dress doesn't get dirty." He explains, and you nod, happily taking your seat on his thighs. The purr he feels against his chest fuels his ego like nothing ever before, his tail wrapping around him and you to lay in your lap. "I heard he's.. doing some shady stuff."
"He takes.. money." You shrug. "But, hm." You just hum, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.
"What if you got an evaluation done?" He wonders, watching the other hybrids play with you. "To gain proof that you're not a category 5? That way you could go against him, no?" He asks, but you shake your head.
"Can't." You answer him. "Only owner."
"Shit.." He mumbles to himself, remembering as well. Only an owner can actually file in to get an evaluation done- and those things are expensive, not funded by the government at all. Without an owner, you're caught in the trap- and while caught in the trap, you can't get an owner. It's like the snake that's biting it's own tail; doomed.
And right now, he's got no clue how to help you.
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"But, let's say, technically speaking.." Jungkook starts to speak between bites of food, looking at Namjoon in front of him. "I'm barely a category 2, right? So, legally, I could own a hybrid." He asks, and Namjoon seems to think about it. Jungkook could in fact be counted as a simple category one if it wasn't for his ears and tail- but that might just be because these days, he's learned to ignore his instincts rather than embrace them.
"I mean, yeah, legally speaking, you can." He offers, nodding. "But like, why would you? You never had any interest in that." He asks confused, even a bit suspicious. Jungkook has been used for his kindness before, so the older friend tends to become wary of odd things asked.
"I think.. no, I found my mate. At the Seoul care center, where we're shooting the whole campaign right now." He offers, opening his can of beer. "And I want to get her out of there. There's some shady shit going on, and I don't want her to be caught in the crossfire before I pop that bubble."
"Jungkook, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all. Pop a bubble?" Namjoon worries instantly, putting his chopsticks down. "That's seoul central care we're talking about. Their legal team is crazy good." He argues, well aware of these things.
"I know." Jungkook nods. "But the evidence is better. Listen -" He shakes his head. "I won't personally be the one to do it. But some of the staff.. they've been talking. And for good reason." The tiger hybrid explains. "Someone is gonna blow that shit up soon, and I need to get her out before that happens. Considering what that guy has been doing already, I'm pretty sure he would, I don't know, send her overseas or some shit to avoid losing access to her money." He tells his friend.
"You know I can't tell you what to do, Jungkook." Namjoon offers, pushing his leftover food towards a sleepy Jimin, who silently starts to eat next to his owner. "But.. if things go south, I'll try and help best I can." he promises, making Jungkook nod in appreciation.
"Thanks."
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It's safe to say that Jungkook is more than just friendly with you now.
He knows it pisses off the man that tries to present himself as a saint with realistic opinions on the modern way hybrids are handled- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook deep in his soul.
You're also a lot more vibrant it seems like, visibly perking up the minute he arrives at the center every morning to shoot his photos and small videos. It's adorable to see, really; especially today, when he offers you a new pair of boots, way better suited for you than the old worn down one's you kept wearing every time you went outside. They're of soft materials, pale pastel colors, fluffy accents on the sides, and your eyes widen in wonder at the sight of them. "I hope they fit. I bought those because they have laces- so you can adjust them if the size isn't perfect." He explains to you, and you nod slowly, holding onto them like they're some form of golden treasure.
You also continue to watch him during his shoot, clearly just as interested in him as he is in you at this point.
Staff has noticed, workers have noticed, his manager has noticed, and granted, everyone's pretty happy about it. You're seemingly a very nice fit, a good balance to the otherwise rather wild and untamed tiger hybrid known to sometimes act out of line. He's clumsy with his words at times, his actions often leading to consequences he's not thought of, though he never does anything will ill intend.
Right now, he's got you back on his lap, sharing a round cream filled donut with you, your tail going wild behind you as you enjoy the sugary treat. "Say, I've got a question.." He wonders, your ears turning on your head towards him, a clear sign that you're paying attention to him. "Would you like to.. you know, maybe live together with me?" He asks, and at that, you freeze, before you turn around towards him. "I mean it. I know, you think that might not be possible- but I want to try, at least, to make it possible." He explains.
"Busy." You tell him, before you watch his manager talk to some caretakers a little further away. "It's.. hm. Don't have to." You shrug, trying to grab the last bite he's holding in his hand, just for him to hold it out of reach.
"That's not an answer though." He teases. "You can also just.. I don't know- live with me as like, a foster situation maybe? Just to see if it would work." He offers, while you whine, reaching out for his food he'd been sharing with you until now, one of his arms holding you back securely while the other holds the last piece too far away. "Answer first, kitty." He hums close to your ear, making you freeze for a second as your tail swipes from side to side in excitement. He's so close now, and if he wanted to, a kiss would just be a tiny move now.
But he behaves himself. All in due time.
"Ok." You nod, because why not? He's nice, he's your mate after all, and you like him.
What could go wrong?
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He's still irritated. You don't deserve any of this.
He hopes he might be able to get the paperwork signed- and you out of this place as soon as he can. There's technically nothing speaking against it after all; he's a level 2 at the end of the day, his hybrid side a lot less dominant than in someone like you. And while it's made him feel like an outcast for a long time, feeling like he doesn't belong neither here nor there- looking at you now, his feelings have changed.
He feels glad, for the first time, that he's the way he is.
"If she's getting too much you can just tell her to go play or something." One of the workers tells him as she'd spotted him with you still somewhat laying on his thigh, his hand comfortably resting on your shoulder while you play with his rings on his other hand. "She tends to get clingy with anybody who pays attention to her." She snickers, but he shakes his head.
"No, it's really fine." He denies her, well aware that she's been eyeing him ever since he'd gotten here the first day, and he can't hold back on his next words. "I actually think she's cute." He smiles down at you, and your cat-ears twitch at that before you look up at him, making him laugh.
"I mean.. I guess? Maybe it's a hybrid thing that you like her." She shrugs, crossing her arms. "But she's gotta move soon, your manager told me they wanna take some more shots." She says with more bite to her tone now- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook.
He lets you rest on him for a little longer- until he pulls out something from his bag, brown paperbag containing a baked treat you know all too well.
He brings it every time, ever since you've told him you like it, after all.
"Nuh-ah." He chuckles when you instantly sit up and reach for it, turning his body a little towards you on the bench before he holds out the donut, testing the waters. And for his own amusement.
And much to his said amusement, you do exactly what he hoped you would.
Without thinking much it seems like, you lean forward to take a bite out of the sweet treat while he's still holding it- and he can't help but smile at the scene. You're so unaware of your own appeal, completely oblivious to how charming you are, and in a way, it makes him upset. You really are just a soft soul being used and nothing else- and he just feels like he's got to offer his protection.
Because you deserve it- and because he wants to be that protector.
Mostly because the connection you both have to one another is undeniable. Mates are an odd thing; but they're a real thing at the end of the day, and it's clear now that he's found his own in you.
You seem to have a moment of realization after the second bite, ears turning before your head follows as a worker says something Jungkook himself doesn't quite catch- but he knows he doesn't like it. "Hey- I'm over here." He tells you, and you look at him with a more shy expression now, almost embarrassed- letting go of his wrist as you sit back down on the bench, visibly uncomfortable. "Dont listen to them. I'm more interesting, am I not?" He teases to get your attention back, reaching out to wipe a crumb from the corner of your lips, making you smile a bit shyly to yourself.
You're so easy to catch.
"Why.." you start, seemingly thinking about your words. You do that a lot, he noticed- you either don't talk at all, or very quietly, and in a way, he's not sure if that's been something they pushed onto you in the carecenter here, or if you've always been this way. He wants to find out, that's for sure. "Why do you.. like me?" You ask, visibly unsatisfied with how you formulated that sentence. It's another proof of your difference in hybrid level compared to Jungkook.
But no matter, he will learn to understand you, until he no longer needs you to speak at all.
Jungkook simply shrugs at your question. "Maybe a mate thing. Maybe just because I like you." He answers. "I don't need to have a reason for it, though. You're a very sweet person, very likable." He tells you before he breaks off another piece of the donut, holding it out. "Now come on. Be a good girl and finish up, alright?" He teasingly tells you as he eats the other leftover piece himself, just to pull yours away from you when you reach out for it with your hand. "Nop." He chuckles, making you glare at him, tail swiping behind you from side to side, and he can't help but laugh at the scene, head thrown back.
Adorable.
Until he feels your lips brush against the tips of his fingers as you snatch the last piece of your treat from him, his gaze immediately back on you as you watch his reaction with a more challenging expression, and he can't help but be intrigued.
"I feel like it'll be a good idea. Jungkook!" His manager smiles, walking up to you both. "You've got her there already, perfect. We'd like to include her in the next few shots tomorrow, see how she does." He tells him, and Jungkook looks at you who seems visibly uncertain.
"You okay with that?" Jungkook asks, and you look at the camera set up close by with an almost fearful expression. "Dont worry. They'll tell you what to do, and I'll help as well. Or is it something else?" He asks, making you move to sit on the bench more properly, feet almost touching the floor, but not quite. He realizes what might be the problem when a staff member accidentally let's a brush fall to the floor, your ears instantly flattening for a short second from the harsh sound. "Ah- does the camera sound scare you?" And you nod at that, making his manager laugh a bit.
"Oh no, don't be scared! It's totally normal. Maybe Jungkook can show you how it works?" He says, before looking over at the careworker close to him. "My son has a hybrid too- he used to hate the sound of the microwave too until my son explained to him how it functioned." He chuckles. Jungkook remembers that. Namjoon and Jimin are an odd couple, but weirdly, they also fit perfectly.
"I don't think she'll understand that, but you can try." The careworker shrugs disinterested, clearly upset at Jungkooks lack of interest in her.
"Come on, let's have a look then." Jungkook simply tells you with no thought wasted on the woman, as he walks to the big cameras with you, Taehyung already looking your way. "Hey, can you maybe explain to her why the camera makes that noise?" Jungkook asks his friend, who nods at you.
"Its pretty loud, isn't it?" He tells you, and you nod- standing on the tips of your toes to try and see through the lens, but to no use. "You're so short!" Taehyung chuckles, and Jungkook can't help but be amused too.
"Hm, here, you can step on that." He offers, sliding an upside-down thick plastic bucket close to you to stand on; his hands instinctively on your body yo steady you as you step onto the container.
"Alright, so.." Taehyung starts to explain the camera to you, and Jungkook can't help but be thankful that his friend is clearly aware of the fact that you're not a stupid child- the photographer never oversimplifying anything, simply telling you the general mechanics to make sure you understand what's happening, that nothing is breaking or could cause any harm. And then the camera makes its distinctive sound.
Your ears still flatten for a split second, but your body makes no sign of being scared or surprised any longer. It worked.
"I can't turn it off, sadly. It's a mechanical sound, so there's no way around it." Taehyung shrugs towards his friend, and Jungkook simply nods.
"It'll be fine." Jungkook says, helping you down from the bucket as the manager says his goodbyes to the first staff. It reminds Jungkook of something in that moment he almost forgot. "Alright, go get your stuff now. I'll go change and then we can go, alright?" He asks, and you seem confused- until you seem to realize.
You're going home with him today. And tomorrow. And the day after, too.
Jungkook can't help but laugh when you dash off into the hallway to get your things, as he himself goes to change himself. He really hopes you'll like it at his place, hopefully enough to decide to stay- and if you do, all he needs are your papers signed and approved. He hates the way the system works, but he also understands it somewhat.
Even though it's clear that not everything goes exactly as it's meant to be.
But once you're with him, once he's got you safe, there will be no more of this. He'll make sure the world gets to know what's going on behind closed doors, having already discussed the plans with his management after all- and he can't deny his anticipation.
He can't wait to see that man lose all he's never even deserved to have in the first place.
But before he can even think any further about those things happening, you're pulling on the hem of his sweater to gain his attention, already dressed in scarf and coat and those fluffy boots he'd bought you yesterday- a lot better quality than those worn down things they'd given you. You deserve to be spoiled in his opinion, not tossed aside like you've been for God knows how many years- and he'll make sure that'll happen.
"Come on." He smiles at you, taking your bag for you as he walks outside the building to his car, opening the door. "We can sleep early or have some food delivered- what would you like?" He asks, getting into the car after you, the driver closing the door after him as he's finally seated next to you, seat belts clicking into place for the both of you.
You shrug as an answer, and he laughs, watching as you yawn, the tiger teasingly pointing his finger into your mouth- but he doesn't expect you to close it so quickly. While you don't bite down on it (at least not hard enough to ever really hurt), he still can't help but be affected by it. Especially when he pushes down on your lower lip, your tongue jokingly licking the tip of his finger, making him smirk at you.
Behind your innocent facade does slumber a tiny little tiger too, in a way, it seems like.
And he honestly doesn't know if he can handle having you around him like this for much longer, while not doing anything about it at all. He's already almost kissed you yesterday, and by now he knows you feel just as attracted to him as he does to you.
You're mates after all. Similar age. Technically in the same hybrid group. Nothing speaks against it.
And yet he's got to be careful. He doesn't want to end up breaking your heart if things don't go as expected- he'd hate leaving you devastated. And yet still he feels as if he'd die soon if he doesn't at least get to feel your lips on his- there's nothing wrong with at least a kiss, right? Maybe just a little further than that- his couch his comfortable after all, and he for sure won't be able to withstand the temptation of at least holding you close with you staying with him tonight. "Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? I can take the couch, no problems." He asks you to distract himself, ground himself again and get his mind off of things-
But then you visibly pout, ears drooping down a little as you look at him almost disappointed.
"Not.. with you?" You mumble, and his gaze focuses on you again, pupils dilated as he swallows thickly.
"I mean, I won't say no." He tells you, eyes never leaving yours. "But I probably should." He says, making you tilt your head in question. Though in your eyes, in the way they sparkle mischievously, he knows you're very much aware of the implications.
"You won't." You simply smile next to him, legs stretching and tail swaying from side to side, and all he can think of is brat. There's no trace of the shy little cat left it seems like right now, as you look at him all confident and almost challenging.
And yet, he can't disagree.
He won't say no.
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He can't describe the feeling of watching you roll around on his couch, freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes.
You did an almost complete flip around from your usual behavior at the carecenter, right now completely relaxed, happily purring as you nuzzle the fabric of a pillow on his couch to cover it with your scent. You're so at ease, obviously feeling safe in his home, and it makes him incredibly proud, because that's exactly what he wants to provide to you.
A safe space.
"Happy?" He asks you with a chuckle, watching as you roll over, nodding at him while laying on your back.
"We'll stay home tomorrow, you know, to spend some time together." He informs you, sitting down close to your head. His hand is pushing into the couch next to your face, and you look at it for a second, seemingly very interested in the black bracelet he's wearing- before you grab his wrist, and bite into his arm.
It surprises him more than anything, thinking he might've come off too strong- but it doesn't hurt, and you're looking at him as if you're actually expecting a reaction from him. You're not trying to hurt him. You're not angry or upset in the slightest.
It's a love-bite.
"You are the most adorable thing-" He chuckles, grabbing onto your wrists to pull you over his lap and sit you up, "-I've ever met, you know that?" He flirts, looking at you, your tail swishing from side to side behind you in excitement, before your ears turn to the sides, flat outwards, as you wiggle out of his grasp, running down the hallway into your room.
He's laughing, entirely amused by your sudden zoomies, as you peek around the corner of your door, before you hide away again, this time running into his room instead. He's watching how you suddenly come dashing out, sliding over his smooth floor on your knees protected by your thigh high socks, holding onto the edge of the backrest of the couch he's sitting on, staring up at him with wide open eyes.
It sort of invites him almost, as his hands grab your wrists again, easily pulling you up and over the back of the couch, leaving you belly down on over his lap, his arms holding you down as he nuzzles into the back of your neck, making you laugh.
You like it when he plays with you like this- proves his strength to you, his capabilities of keeping you safe. Shows you that his physique isn't just for show and anesthetics.
"You know I like you, don't you?" He wonders, and you nod easily at that, turning over on his lap, trusting in the fact that he'll make sure you don't roll off- and he does in fact make sure you don't, carefully holding onto you, and even adjusting the hem of your dress for you. "How do you feel about that?" He wonders, and you shrug, hand reaching out to play with his necklace.
"Happy." You just state, your attention clearly not entirely on him but more on your chosen toy. He notices that, takes the pendant away from your hands before he throws it over his shoulder, effectively removing it from your reach. And you don't roll like that, fingers instantly pulling on the necklace at his throat to pull it back- though he now holds your hand in his.
"Eyes up here, darling." He says, and you pout, though you comply. "Good. Now give me a proper answer." He demands, and you stretch your legs a little before going limp again.
"Happy.. really." You nod. "You're.. my mate." You tell him, and he smiles, nodding.
"That I am." He agrees, looking down at your lips before his haze moves up to your eyes again. "And you're mine." He says.
"Am I?" You challenge, making his gaze sharpen as he notices your clear intentions as you wiggle out of his lap and instead of the couch next to him, feet pushing against the outside of his thigh.
And he easily takes on your little challenge, well aware that you're no match for him at the end of the day.
It starts as nothing but slightly tickling kisses, ends of his hair brushing over your skin and making you giggle, before be chuckles, and bites at your neck. It's a lot more gentle than you thought he might be- but it's also clear that he's simply playing with you, no intent for anything more right now.
He'd live to play with you like that as well- but all in due time.
Your tail smacks loudly against the leather of the couch, his antics fueling your instincts as your ears pin back. He wonders how much you can take- until you move as well, biting his shoulder, this time leaving a clear mark that tells him you're at your limit.
Cute.
"Now there's no question, is there?" He wonders, moving around with you in his arms to hold you, kissing his mark to calm you down. "Now you're mine." He hums against your skin, and you nod, his slightly rough tongue moving over the tender spot once.
He catches himself in the act, surprised at it. He's never done that before- never, not even in past relationships. He doesn't even know why he did that, it's a little weird, no? Sure, he's a hybrid, but he's mostly human. He's never attempted to.. Groom a partner like this before.
But you don't seem bothered- in fact, you're happily purring in his arms, relaxed and comfortable.
"Yours." You mumble sleepily, yawning before you turn to cling to him, rubbing your cheek against his shirt to get your scent on him.
And he can't help but curl his tail around yours, feeling like everything has finally fallen into place for him.
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natalyarose · 4 months
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𝐸𝓂𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓃𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝒩𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 🌼🌞✨🍯
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In the world of Vedic astrologers, there is a lot of remark about how in the age of the internet, rapid technological advancements, idols, overstimulation, 'fake news', and trend cycles as fast as lightning, we are living in times very influenced by nodal energy. Or at least, nodal (particularly Rahuvian) aspects of reality are increasingly 'in your face', accessible... If we take the concept of trends to be a very nodal phenomena for instance: throughout most of history, trends were not something you could observe so blatantly the way we do now.
A 'trend' was more likely to last an entire generation, and without the constant access to the past, present and future of the entire world that the internet now provides, you wouldn't even realise it's a trend. One would simply consider it 'normal'. People were not as aware of what the 'elites' are up to, what happens in other countries, mass information leakage etc. you are busy carrying your own burdens, and reaping your own joys, in your own bubble.
In older times, it's as simple as- the life you're born into is the life you focus on & work on UNLESS you are in a position of power (Solar energy) & therefore dealing more with the people at large & distant lands. Even still, your main focus is on your own kingdom/village/tribe. The average person is not going to really know what's going on in faraway places the way we now do. Sure, this nodal, constant consumption element of reality still existed, but it was less 'in your face'.
These days we have our 'black mirrors' (phones, laptops, etc) and they exist as a portal into- anywhere we desire. Lives & realities that don't even necessarily relate to our own. The need to be consciously aware of this is crucial in order to find the balance necessary.
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Currently, everything is moving so fast, and there are constant forms of stimulation, movement, illusions and streams of consciousness to get lost in. So many rabbit holes to fall down without you even realising it that will drain & alienate you from your Solar energy.
Getting lost in trends and the lives of other people that in the physical realm, do not directly touch your own life, can be extremely draining to us. In an abstract way, this gives us insight into why it is that so many people feel depressed- lost, like the world is grey... there is constant fog, smoke & mirrors attempting to block our internal Sun, our personal unique destiny & divinity.
Ironically, I tend to think that the reason we're collectively so divided & lonely lately (there's many reasons, but in the way of esoteric takes), is the lack of Solar energy. People talk about how this society is missing the honouring of feminine (Lunar) energy, which is true- but only because of the lack of healthy Solar energy to support it.
I mean, a material manifestation of this is the.. beyond concerning (and somehow, rarely talked about?) statistics on the sperm count dropping. According to various scientific studies, we're looking at roughly a 50% decrease over 50 years... that's just- wow.
Another of many material manifestations of the way true Solar energy is becoming rarer/obscured: lately, the average suburban city is removing structures (Solar) & facilities people usually go to socialise and have fun- bars, clubs, cinemas, skate parks, venues hosting of events & festivals. Yes, the actual social aspect is more of a Lunar energy, but the Solar aspects (ie. the structures, the organised events, the provided food, etc) are the container for that Lunar energy to fall upon. For socialisation, intimacy, raw emotion & connection to exist healthily, we need some kind of structure, some Solar goodness to go off of so we're not just- floating entities in space talking to other floating entities in space about nothing in particular.
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Yes, Solar energy speaks of individuality, paving your own path, ego, sense of self- but here's the thing. If we lack sense of self, how can we connect with people? How can we feel unity if there's no 'self' in the first place? How can we connect and share with people if we feel we have nothing to offer and we're all regurgitating the same stuff- there's no reason to talk or connect if everybody seems to be just.. lacking substance, robotic, or a void
Solar energy is our ego, our happiness, our light. It represents that substance. Someone speaking from a place of Solar light is tapping into a place of authenticity & experience, whereas when we are lost in nodal energies; we are moreso becoming a conduit for other people's ideas and thoughts we've heard about, forgetting our own footing in reality.
I feel like- no, I've seen- time and time again how this current society can delude us into believing that the way to leave your mark on the world & make the world a better place, is to get lost in others. To always be in the know, informed and on trend when it comes to everything outside of yourself. It feels like we are being taught that if we aren't carrying the weight of the whooole world on our shoulders, we are selfish or living under a rock.
On the one hand, it is definitely important that we have some sort of a spiritual awareness of what's going on in the lives of others (be it friends, relatives, or people in other countries) but on the other hand, this constant focus on other people takes away from you having the chance to make a true difference and BE a beacon of light.
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Sometimes I see something dark on the news, very dark.. I'm in tears, I'm anxious, I'm asking the heavens why these things happen... how is it fair? I'm praying, I'm sucked in and can't look away from what I'm seeing because it feels like I have a duty to at least witness the suffering if others have to go through it. There have been times it's just debilitated me; until I realised something-
I am worth more to the world, the people suffering included, by focusing on fostering beauty, joy & goodness in my own life. I'm not helping the world by crying in my bed unable to feed or take care of myself because I'm distraught about something I saw on my phone. It's only impairing my ability to remain in a high vibrational state that I can create & share with the world from. People who truly make a difference are often the ones who either innately embody or have cultivated a very Solar nature- 'water off a ducks back'. It shouldn't be about ignoring or suppressing emotions, so much as using emotion wisely.
This doesn't mean it is best to completely ignore the world or be cold or 'heartless', but moreso that you need to be holding a torch for yourself in order to even begin to light the way for others. Those who are suffering generally do not want others to suffer for them (especially if they can't physically do anything to help)- that only creates... more suffering. I know in times of my own suffering, not once did I think 'damn, I wish someone was as sad and destitute as me' lol
I thought 'man, I really would love to be around people & circumstances that are positive, uplifting & nourishing so that I can feel that warmth again'.
If every single person in the world was utterly debilitated and absorbed in other realities, other people's lives, neglecting their own 'karma' & their own blessings, who would be there for people to look to for hope? Who would be the blueprint for what happiness actually looks like? In a world without strong, solar entities, who can those who are suffering look up to to imagine a better life?
Fill your own cup first!
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Sometimes the best thing you can do for the world, is to manifest your own beautiful, magical, pure life- whatever that means for YOU. Build your own foundation so that you can be an inspiration & comfort for those who need it, while being stable and strong within your own being.
A lighthouse doesn't go out to sea and get into the storm with the ships. It doesn't go chasing the ships down to save them. It simply stays where it is, strong, radiating light and indiscriminate- unconcerned with who 'gets' the light. Trusting that the universe is working its magic and the right people are benefiting from your radiance. That is what staying true to yourself & your own unique destiny looks like.
I see too many people (myself included, but working on it..) with bleeding hearts. Completely lost and overwhelmed by the struggles, thoughts, opinions, beliefs & chaos of others, feeling as though they can't just sit and watch, they have to do something about it. Or if they can't do something about it, they have to at least feel it, delve into all that emotion. Instead of being the lighthouse and realising that nurturing yourself = raising the vibration of the world, which = one more person living in truth & happiness for others to look up to- they are missing that opportunity and becoming drained/psychologically in pain.
Do what makes you happy. It's so simple, yet so.. not! It's a skill, and it takes discipline & sometimes what feels like active rebellion in order to refrain from abandoning yourself and getting lost in something or someone else; whether that thing is positive or negative... 🌸
Very long story short - the most helpful gift you can give to the world, is your joy & faith in your own destiny.
To anyone who read all this, have a beautiful day and if you can, go do something fun lol, or create something ♡
note: I just want to make sure it's clear that I'm not saying nodes = bad & Sun = good or anything like that! Every planet, every celestial force plays an important role in life on Earth and the nodes have their own magic too. This post is just talking about the importance of staying in touch with your Solar light rather than getting completely and utterly lost in the pull of the nodes. I also want to add that of course sometimes there are unique occasions, where plunging into the darkness with somebody else is exactly what you need to do- but if that's the case, that'll be a part of your 'destiny', so even still you will be embodying your light if that makes sense. Never abandon your light.
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boricuacherry-blog · 2 years
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After James Franco published his fictional account entitled "Bungalow 89" where he claims he didn't sleep with Lindsay Lohan, just read her a bedtime story about bananafish, Lindsay countered with a short story of her own:
James Franco says we did not have sex, and one of the things I learned growing up in a family of chaos was to respect other people's truths, even if that truth is something they made up driving home wasted in an Escalade that I frickin bought. Anyway, since he has shared his version of events, I think it's only fair I shared mine.
It was a few years ago. I don't remember if I was sober or not. I think I probably was. I actually never even really drank that much, and as I told Oprah, I only did coke 10-15 times, so statistically, the chances are good I was not wasted when this happened.
I was wandering around the Chateau Marmont, which is a hotel. I will say that I do like the Chateau because there are lots of beautiful flowers tended by people who care as deeply about tending flowers as I do about my passion, starring in films.
I had just taken a swim in the pool where, per the advice of several therapists, I had taken some time to imagine that I was one of any number of various sea creatures.
Afterwards I had taken a leisurely shower and then put a deep conditioning pack on my hair. So I was just walking around inhaling the scent of night blooming jasmine and my deep conditioning pack when one of the bungalow doors opened.
This guy stuck his head out. I didn't know who it was. In fact at first I thought it was this guy who worked at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on Beverly Hills and I was like, what is he doing here? "Hey," he said.
As I got closer I saw that it was that actor who always wants people to think that he's smart but I still couldn't remember his name.
"Oh hey," I said.
"What are you doing?" he said.
"I'm deep conditioning my hair," I said.
"Why?" he said. He said it in this really challenging way, like deep conditioning your hair was against the law.
"Uh, because it has a lot of split ends from being so color treated and all the extensions that I have used over the last few years, being an actress who cares about my craft, the way that Chateau Marmont flower-tenders care about flowers."
He shook his head. He was kind of good looking I guess but there was something about his face. He looked so serious, like he had just finished reading 1000 books and had to read 1000 more or he was never going to get to watch TV again.
He said, "Have you ever thought about all the time you spend deep conditioning your hair? Have you ever thought about the expectations that society places on you as a celebrity and how you exploit yourself by responding to them?"
I said, "Duh, that's all I think about. But deep conditioning my hair is one of the ways I find my center."
"That's beautiful," he said. He actually got a tear in his eye. Then he said, "I'm sorry, it's just that the intersection of the banal commercial world with narratives about inner peace triggers a conditioned, sentimental response in me that produces something like actual feelings."
It was all clear now. "You're James Franco," I said.
He asked me to come in and I did. I sat in a chair.
"Can I read you a story?"
He said it was called A Perfect Day for Bananafish. I don't remember very much about it, except at one point, he stopped reading and started to explain to me that it should really be called something else gross and dumb because of something about the fish being phallic which personally I feel like he made up. I can't really remember. I was so tired, but somewhere, a little voice piped up and let me know there was actually a really brilliant way to get through the next hour of my life without having to walk all the way back to my room, and I was like, "If I have sex with you, will you stop talking?"
I am a lady, so I don't want to tell you what happened next.
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Will I be the assshole for kicking out a student because of his political opinions?
I give private language classes and all my students are adults. I try to stay away from politics in conversation lessons but, as we cover a lot of subjects, we sometimes end up debating some social topics. Never really had any issues with that until now.
The problem is, I have this one student (40m) who is extremely right wing. He takes any mention of equality as a personal attack on his belief system and according to him all teachers are left wing agents trying to brainwash society. 
Honestly, 80% of what he says is just kind of bizarre misinformation but sometimes he says some offensive stuff about minorities that really gives me the creeps. If I try to change the subject he throws a tantrum and says I’m “censoring his opinion” and if I make any counter argument he dismisses it and calls me a communist. I can’t bring myself to just sit there smiling and nodding while he goes on about how this or that group is prone to committing this or that criminal act. 
I’ve asked him to cut it out multiple times but he claims that he’s not prejudiced, that he just “knows the statistics” and that not letting him speak his mind is political persecution. Normally I wouldn't think twice about kicking out a student who was just straight up racist, misogynistic or transphobic but the thing is, he genuinely believes those things he says are just political opinions and not prejudice. For instance, he strongly defends racial profiling even though he’s multiracial and identifies as black. He honestly doesn't see it as racism.
I’m not really comfortable teaching him and have been thinking of just giving him a refund and telling him to go find another teacher. I think the only reason why he doesn’t leave my classes is because of his belief that ALL teachers are communists so getting someone else wouldn't make any difference. My coworkers think I shouldn't let his comments get to me and that kicking him out like that will be seen as unprofessional in our field. The classes are private so it’s really up to me.
So, WIBTA?
What are these acronyms?
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real actual nonhostile question with a preamble: i think a lot of artists consider NN-generated images as an existential threat to their ability to use art as a tool to survive under capitalism, and it's frequently kind of disheartening to think about what this is going to do to artists who rely on commissions / freelance storyboarding / etc. i don't really care whether or not nn-generated images are "true art" because like, that's not really important or worth pursuing as a philosophical question, but i also don't understand how (under capitalism) the rise of it is anything except a bleak portent for the future of artists
thanks for asking! i feel like it's good addressing the idea of the existential threat, the fears and feelings that artists have as to being replaced are real, but personally i am cynical as to the extent that people make it out to be a threat. and also i wanna say my piece in defense of discussions about art and meaning.
the threat of automation, and implementation of technologies that make certain jobs obsolete is not something new at all in labor history and in art labor history. industrial printing, stock photography, art assets, cgi, digital art programs, etc, are all technologies that have cut down on the number of art jobs that weren't something you could cut corners and labor off at one point. so why do neural networks feel like more of a threat? one thing is that they do what the metaphorical "make an image" button that has been used countless times in arguments on digital art programs does, so if the fake button that was made up to win an argument on the validity of digital art exists, then what will become of digital art? so people panic.
but i think that we need to be realistic as to what neural net image generation does. no matter how insanely huge the data pool they pull from is, the medium is, in the simplest terms, limited as to the arrangement of pixels that are statistically likely to be together given certain keywords, and we only recognize the output as symbols because of pattern recognition. a neural net doesn't know about gestalt, visual appeal, continuity, form, composition, etc. there are whole areas of the art industry that ai art serves especially badly, like sequential arts, scientific illustration, drafting, graphic design, etc. and regardless, neural nets are tools. they need human oversight to work, and to deal with the products generated. and because of the medium's limitations and inherent jankiness, it's less work to hire a human professional to just do a full job than to try and wrangle a neural net.
as to the areas of the art industry that are at risk of losing job opportunities to ai like freelance illustration and concept art, they are seen as replaceable to an industry that already overworks, underpays, and treats them as disposable. with or without ai, artists work in precarized conditions without protections of organized labor, even moreso in case of freelancers. the fault is not of ai in itself, but in how it's yielded as a tool by capital to threaten workers. the current entertainment industry strikes are in part because of this, and if the new wga contract says anything, it's that a favorable outcome is possible. pressure capital to let go of the tools and question everyone who proposes increased copyright enforcement as the solution. intellectual property serves capital and not the working artist.
however, automation and ai implementation is not unique to the art industry. service jobs, manufacturing workers and many others are also at risk at losing out jobs to further automation due to capital's interest in maximizing profits at the cost of human lives, but you don't see as much online outrage because they are seen as unskilled and uncreative. the artist is seen as having a prestige position in society, if creativity is what makes us human, the artist symbolizes this belief - so if automation comes for the artist then people feel like all is lost. but art is an industry like any other and artists are not of more intrinsic value than any manual laborer. the prestige position of artist also makes artists act against class interest by cooperating with corporations and promoting ip law (which is a bad thing. take the shitshow of the music industry for example), and artists feel owed upward social mobility for the perceived merits of creativity and artistic genius.
as an artist and a marxist i say we need to exercise thinking about art, meaning and the role of the artist. the average prompt writer churning out big titty thomas kinkade paintings posting on twitter on how human made art will become obsolete doesnt know how to think about art. art isn't about making pretty pictures, but is about communication. the average fanartist underselling their work doesn't know that either. discussions on art and meaning may look circular and frustrating if you come in bad faith, but it's what exercises critical thinking and nuance.
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