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theghostofashton · 2 years

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something that i’ve really wanted to talk about since i rewatched 6x02 was the scenes between kurt and spencer, and more so, how spencer’s character is written and how it follows a strange and kind of frustrating pattern on this show.

i think the general consensus with spencer is that people aren’t a fan of how he treats kurt. what he says comes across pretty disrespectful, as we’ve watched kurt’s journey for five whole seasons and seen the struggle he’s been through with his sexuality. and kurt’s.... completely right about the fact that spencer owes glee club for making mckinley a more accepting place, but particularly, spencer owes him, and his refusal to back down even when people were treating him so terribly. he forced people to see him, even when they tried so hard to diminish him. that’s important.

spencer’s assertion that things were different when kurt was in high school has always been strange, to me. and one of the things i want to bring up here is that this whole thing feels a little..... hard to believe, based on the timeline? this is happening in fall 2014. kurt graduated in 2012. it’s been just a little over two years, which is, in the grand scheme of things, not a ton of time. like, people kurt went to school with are still at mckinley. one of the reasons i wish s6 was set multiple years in the future, instead of only a few months after the end of s5, is because of this. there are a lot of things that just don’t hit with the emotional weight the writers seemed to intend because the timeline is so condensed.

anyway, i think my big frustration with what spencer says is his claim that being gay is primarily how kurt identified himself, because..... no? that’s how the rest of the school identified him. that’s how the staff identified him (schue writing ‘gay’ in his notes when kurt was auditioning for glee club). kurt didn’t get to come out on his own terms. his sexuality was assumed by his bullies and then used against him before he was ready to tell even his own father. i think, in some ways, the writers were maybe trying to frame spencer as being in the wrong, that it was supposed to come across slightly ignorant? but i think it kind of backfires and ends up falling into an unintentional pattern the writers established of queerness being acceptable if you present it in the “right” way. kurt’s not being targeted for being gay, he’s being targeted for being gay in the wrong way, in how it intersects with his masculinity, interests, and passions.

we see this pretty clearly in sebastian’s character, in the way he’s set up to be a foil for kurt and how his insults are primarily based in effeminophobia. the underlying message is, because sebastian is gay too, the problem isn’t kurt’s sexuality. it’s how he presents it. we also see it in the writing of blaine’s character, tbh. i mentioned this briefly, a while ago, but the immediate framing of blaine as “not a stereotype” in opposition to the other gay character on the show feels.... indicative of something. as the show goes on, the writing seems to push this idea that blaine not being a stereotype, or blaine having more traditionally masculine interests, is what makes things easier for him. (the differences in how hevans vs blam are written, blaine getting tony, being picked by june, etc). yet again, the subconscious idea that it isn’t kurt’s sexuality, it’s how he presents it, is being pushed because he’s being compared to another gay character. (as an aside: there is something to be said about the way blaine was written vs. the way darren portrayed him. different post, but let it be known that i mean zero shade at blaine with this. i’m talking about the writing 100%.)

spencer is a football player, who just happens to be gay. explicit attention is given to the fact that the problem isn’t sexuality, the problem is the way kurt chooses to present that sexuality. the pattern that’s being established, then, is that being gay is acceptable if you’re conforming to a particular standard. if you’re not being “stereotypical”. if it isn’t your identity. if you present your masculinity a certain way. if you have societally acceptable, traditionally masculine interests, if you can fit in and be “one of the guys”. and repeatedly, kurt is insulted throughout all six seasons because he isn’t any of these things, and he refuses to change himself to be.

the other layer to this is that we don’t get to see kurt “win” very often. we don’t get to see him be chosen, be valued, in a way other characters were, in-universe (there is a big difference between discussing the quality of his writing and his storyline in-universe, and i feel like those are often conflated). his success (or lack thereof, for a long time) is tied to peoples’ inability to see him beyond his sexuality. the way he presents it almost feels like a mark against him? i think this is where a lot of kurt fans find their resentment and disdain for the way he was treated. there is a really shitty pattern here of diminishing and mocking kurt that ties to his sexuality because the way he presents it, compared to other gay male characters, is seen as lesser, wrong, etc. and, for a show that constantly purports acceptance no matter who you are, this just feels.....cruel, lol.

#this got so long very quickly lol but i've had these thoughts for a while #i don't know if the writers recognized what they were doing #but this feels like a pattern a very frustrating and cruel pattern #framing spencer as being wrong and ignorant doesn't work when the writing has basically confirmed what he says repeatedly lol #being gay is okay being a gay man is okay as long as you do it the right way #that's the message and that's what's really frustrating #and i think that's why a subsection of kurt fans are very upset and adamant on him winning and being given better #bc this is just. hard to take when you look at it in context #even in s6 the writers were still finding ways to shit on him and it feels incredibly homophobic #idk if that was the intention but. yeah lmfao #kurt hummel #glee meta #glee #gr1 #these are still rewatch thoughts technically so there's that tag lol #let me know if i need to put anti tags on this i don't think i said anything that really warrants them but i will if needed!#also if anyone uses this post to shit on blaine you are being blocked lmfao that has never and will never be my point in topics like these

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tuiyla · 2 years

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Thinking of Bram etc, Sam was just this character who was shallow, and a filler for whenever they needed a guy to date any of the girls. He dated five of the six main girls, and made out with Tina too. Plus there was Nurse Penny, and even his gay friend had a crush on him. He was all abs, and blond and a stripper, but his actual relationships were never that deep.

Well I do think they had no idea what to do with Sam beyond his season 2 thing of "Finn but better". I think Fabrevans and Samcedes developed organically enough and Samtana never pretended to be anything they weren't, i.e. it was never genuine. His later characterization did get quite shallow and Bram was just, sigh, Bram was just a fucking mess that I definitely need to have a rant about at some point.

I guess by the time he made out with Tina it was part of the gag that he'd be involved with all the girls. At least Samchel was a more sincere thing but like, who even cared about Samchel? That's a whole other story. Nurse Penny felt like a storyline that was originally supposed to be Finn's to me so again it's a different matter but the end result is the same. That being? Sam barely felt like his own character and more like someone to swoop in when a girl was single.

That said I do think his friendship with Blaine was at least handled well. Glee writers ain't cared about much but Hummelberry and Blam? On the list. And I think a portion of his story did try to address this superficiality and his insecurities about intelligence circling back to being shallow and relying on his looks. Unfortunately because this is Glee and they already did the fucking stripper thing for laughs in season 3, this did not work. The writers also tended to ignore interesting things about him, like his family background and taking on more responsibilities than he should have at his age. So I'm saying that there was stuff there but it was ignored to create a character who's sort of meh when you actually examine him.

#anti sam evans #to be safe though i'm not actively hating on him #he did take deepdive down my list of chs but that's cause i liked him on first watch #idk why now lol #don't come for me he's alright but the writers had no idea who he was #so why should i know or care #glee asks #anon #sam asks

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retro-duets · 2 years

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Santana: Brittany we should do the sensible thing and break up because the relationship isn't the best thing for us right now, it's okay if we want to date other people, we'll still support each other :)

*Brittany dates Sam*

Santana: 🗣S H E L E F T M E F O R P E N I S🗣

#anti santana lopez #not specifically her #just how weirdly disjointed the whole thing is #like the lack of self awareness from the writers is befuddling to say the least #the fact that santana acted that way really just undid the whole mature break up thing 😭#glee #me being a hater

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tophsazulas · 1 year

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The njbc is as real as the uth

#poorni rambles about gg #anti njbc #anti uth #my glee/gg followers know what I’m talking about #tho I think uth had potential to be real friends if the writers cared #chuck should just stay away from blairenate #anti chuck bass

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von-frappe · 2 years

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you see it's not that Quinn doesn't have complexity it's just that canon Quinn doesn't have even half as much complexity as people project onto her, and I think people just view her character as inherently deeper because most of her storylines are sadder which people tend to view as more meaningful than happier ones.

did Quinn's relationship with her family have any more development than mercedes' journey to being a singer? not really, the fans just decided to pick apart every issue Quinn had and write whole dissertations on them.

#Quinn's another character I'd like more if it wasn't for the fanbase #giving more complexity for a character who was an oversight by the writers is great but a lot of Quinn stans #get really holier than thou that people aren't seeing the deep complexities that they personally projected onto her #stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you're 17 page long analysis of how Quinn looked at someone one time is a trauma response is canon #glee #glee opinions #anti quinn fabray #lol Quinn fabray #I guess more the fans though

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melinoelliones · 1 year

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After Hours | Meliodas X Fem Reader

You had just stumbled into the Boar Hat after hours, but I bet the bartender can fix you up a little something.

2.5K Words

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, filling up, masterbation, slight breath play, tears, praise

HI HI! Back with the smut hehe, sorry this was SUPER LATE. I hope the Meliodas lovers enjoy mwah mwah. I just wanna note that...

1. This is selfshippy, reader is a princess of Liones (not Elizabeth). Not beta read.

2. I tried to make sure it was similar to canon Meliodas but I think I may have slipped up a bit. I read it over in his voice so it’s not like SUPER off. We may interpret him differently.

3. I am a NEW WRITER so this may be written weird I APOLOGISE!!

SO ANYWAYS..... have fun

“SORRY GUYS THE BOAR HATS CLOSED, COME BACK TOMORROW”, a familiar voice called out from the bar, their back facing you as they continued polishing glasses.

You had just made your way over from your father, King Batra’s party he had thrown for the Sins as a thank you for another successful mission to protect Liones. Usually you’d just stay home in the palace with your sisters and the others or atleast until it was over, however Meliodas had decided to keep the Boar Hat open and stay there, so you thought, why not surprise him and keep him company?

You sneakily strolled through the tavern, taking a seat at the bar without a word. “I said the Boar Hat is clos~ ah well hello there beautiful” Meliodas gave you a smug grin, peering behind to see you sat across from him.

“Space for one more?” you pouted, your puppy dog eyes were almost impossible for him to resist, “bars closed im afraid….. But I'm sure I can fix you up something real quick”, he caved, flashing you a quick wink before turning back to the alcohol.

Meliodas may have been a terrible cook, horrendous cook even but he could make a killer drink with absolutely anything, he also knew your taste palette particularly well and had yet to fail at coming up with a concoction you’d enjoy. And who could turn down a free drink?

You watched as the captain shook up up a drink for you, showing off along the way with a few bottle flips and tricks, “like what you see?” he joked as you rolled your eyes, attempting to hide your laughter. He was quite the show off sometimes but you adored every last second of it every time.

Placing a single kiss on the rim of the glass, the barkeep slid the dark coloured beverage in front of you. As you took a sip from the spot he kissed you hummed in glee, “oooo it's actually really good, maybe the best one so far”.

“Aye, what kind of barkeep would I be if I couldn’t make my girl the perfect drink huh?” he shrugged, making his way out the bar over to the stools you were sat at.

As you continued to down your glass Meliodas quizzed you on your antics prior to coming over, you answered blindly, blissfully unaware that the man was now directly behind you, your back flush against his chest.

“I did miss you though, there was no chance that I’d stay in the palace till the end when I could come see you” you smiled sweetly to yourself, swirling the left over ice cubes.

“Is that right, what did you miss about me hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, a wave of chills rushing through your body as you realised how close the guy now was to you. A pair of hands roamed freely across your chest, your tight fitted shirt making it easy for them to feel up every inch of it.

“I m~missed your erm jokes”

“Mmhmm what else?” he questioned, slithering one hand down from your chest to your lower stomach, lifting up your skirt in the process. Before you could muster up a response Meliodas ran his fingers along your slit before creating small circles on your clit, the friction from your underwear across it making you yearn for more.

“Hey hey, I asked you a question didn’t I? What else did you miss about me tonight?” he teased, increasing the pressure on your sensitive clit as you cursed beneath your breath.

As you pondered for a second, Meliodas inched your newly damp underwear to the side, sliding your lips apart to reveal how wet you already were. “Well would you look at that” he smirked, using your own precum to ease two fingers into you, “you’re already drenched for me, I haven’t even started yet”.

You yelped softly as he re-asked you the question that had completely slipped your mind, “Go on princess, you missed…..?”.

” I~er missed your umm company?” you winced, lost for answers as he pushed his digits knuckles deep into your soaking cunt before curling them to find the sensitive patch. Your body naturally twitched as he found it, letting him know exactly what to pay attention to.

You melt into his touch, hips rocking into his fingers as he sped up, his palm pressing against your semi-swollen bud adding to the pleasure.

The guy allowed his free hand to make work of your neglected breasts, skimming it under your form-fitted shirt as he kneaded your already hard nipples between his fingers, “Is that right? Did you miss this too? Me feeling you up?”.

You could feel the blood rushing to your lower stomach as he focused on the growing spot inside of you, your hips rolling into his fingers, your moans soft but sloppy due to the overload of stimulation, “Meliodas p~please I-”

“I know I know” he smirked, trailing a few small kisses on the nape of your neck.

“Hold your breath for me okay?”

Doing as told you took in a small breath, the barman deepened the curls of his fingers whilst the other hand twisted your nipples as you squirmed. You clung to your seat, the sound of him sliding in and out of you like music to his ears, “And out” he commanded.

The heat in your stomach was at its peak, you tried to steady your breathing as you could feel yourself reaching the end, “could ya hold your breath again love”.

Taking in another breath you threw your head back against his chest “now cum for me, right here on this stool” he urged, scissoring his digits deeper inside you, his palm swiping against your clit harshly, your muffled whimpers and whines keeping him going.

Your body twisted and turned in the stool as you came, coating his fingers completely as your thighs squeezed together around the guy's hand, yet he kept his pace allowing you to long out every second of your peak. Your chest tightened slightly as you remembered you were holding your breath, “You can breathe now my love” Meliodas chuckled.

Your breathless body fell back against him whilst you caught your breath, his warmth calming you down as he slid out his fingers, “well would you look at that, you did so well. Why dontcha clean these off for me too?” he asked, you could almost hear the smirk on his face as he showed you his fingers, they were almost dripping in your release.

In between breaths you rolled out your tongue, allowing him to slip them into your mouth, “that’s it” he cooed watching you suck yourself off them, your tongue weaving along them taking it all in before he pulled them away. He wanted to be the first to taste your sweet juices but you just looked too perfect with his fingers in your mouth.

You guys stayed as you were for what felt like a few minutes whilst you cooled off, he gave you nothing but sweet kisses before helping you off the bar stool. The alcohol conveniently started to take effect as you hit the ground, your cheeks burning up as you bent yourself over one of the tables in front of you.

Meliodas crept up behind you as you left your exposed ass in the air, your underwear completely doused and on display. You felt his clothed lower half meet yours, his needy cock poking through the layers of fabric separating you both.

Trailing a hand up your trembling thigh he sniggered, “so was that all you missed? Or did you miss my cock in that pretty little cunt of yours hmm?”.

You nodded, grinding back on it as he groaned, he needed to be in you so bad, fucking you sensless over this table, but he had to hold out. “I need you to say it, tell me what the princess wants” he huffed, feeling himself growing against your soiled underwear which was now seeping through his own pants.

“P~Please Meli I need you, please fuck me”

“That's what I like to hear, such a needy princess” he cooed, taking in the sopping sight before him as he slipped your panties down to your ankles. “I’ll fill you up real good okay?” he reassured you whilst sliding down the band of his trousers, you watched as he freed his throbbing cock, biting your lip as you knew what was coming.

He may have been a small guy height wise but he wasn’t lacking in that area by any means, the girth alone always took you by surprise, wondering how your body always managed to accommodate such a thing.

Planting a firm hand on your hip he eased you back, gliding his cock along your slick folds before sliding the tip in. “F~fuck” was all he managed to get out as you inhaled sharply, clawing at the wooden table beneath you, the sheer size of him pushing out all the breath from your body.

“Cmon, you can take it” he assured you, pulling you back onto him, planting himself fully inside you, your walls slowly trying to adjust to it.

“Y~You’re so fucking tight, and so warm” he trembled as you conformed to his size.

You felt the barmans calloused hand travel up the curve of your back to your neck, then across to your jawline. With a slight tug he pulled your head, your needy eyes meeting his as your back arched completely. He placed a single peck on your forgotten lips before helping you back onto the table, “You’re doing so good for me”.

Setting his hands back onto your bare hips he pulled out almost completely before shoving himself back in, making sure to bottom out inside, “s~so big” was all you managed to choke out as he hit your sensitive spot with pure force.

He continued to drive himself in and out of your cunt, each motion being more intense than the last, making sure to hit your sweet spot every time. He knew you both wouldn’t last very long but he was determined to make the most of what y'all had. Hearing your little squeals each time he crashed into you making him crave your words.

“I wanna hear your voice, I need to hear how good I make you feel” Meliodas panted continuing his strides, his balls swiping your swollen bud with each one, he wanted nothing more than for your moans to ring though the empty tavern.

“Oh fuck, FUCK baby please, don’t stop” you desperately cried out as he spanked you, it was almost as if that brought your voice back. The sting adding to the intense wave of pain and pleasure swirling around inside your body, he felt so good but it hurt so bad.

“That's what I wanna hear, cmon now, I wonder how the King would feel knowing that his daughter likes to be fucked like a common whore over a bar table by a little ole Bartender”

“Oh, did you like that? You like being called a whore while I fuck you like this, how unladylike” he grinned as he felt you close around him, so much so that he let out his own moan followed by a few curses.

As you attempted to lift yourself off the table you caught a glimpse of your reflections in the fogged up window, a familiar dark purple mark drawing in your full attention. The man fucking you was no longer your sweet little barkeep, this was the Demon King's first son in all his glory.

You now understood why he was being so vulgar and rough, it's not as if you didn’t love this but you were surprised that your neediness would result in him letting his demon side show.

“See what you do to me? I can’t even keep myself in human form” he sighed jokingly spanking you a second time, watching as a dark red hand mark slowly pulled itself to the surface of your ass whilst you let out all types of profanities.

You could feel you were at your limit, the scales were at a tipping point and you knew it would spill over any second.

“Meli, I’m s~so close”, you choked out between strokes, your walls closing in on his piece as your body gave in.

“Go on, cum on this cock”

That was all the motivation you needed to hear, you felt Meliodas grab one side of the table as you came, your walls tightening causing a temporary halt to his movements, “that's it, paint my cock white”.

Meliodas longed out his thrusts to allow you to enjoy your orgasm, your pussy creaming around him coating his shaft completely.

Before you had time to catch your breath Meliodas plunged into your sensitive core, your knees buckling ever so slightly trying to regain some strength, “cmon you can hold out for me”.

Tears trickled down your heated cheeks as the guy rutted into you mercilessly, all thoughts and words vanishing with each thrust leaving you a whining mess. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good” he grunted, giving you all the praise you deserved.

Only you could treat him like this, the only one who ever made him feel this good, he was in a trance when in you.

His cock twitched inside of you as his grunts filled out the room, he was almost at his breaking point and you knew it. “I c~can’t Meliod-”, “uh uh uh, yes you can”, he hushed you, knowing your tired body would give way at some point.

After a few more clashes with your sweet spot he came, smearing your sore walls with his seed as you constricted around him once again, milking his cock clean into your aching cunt.

The warm liquid was being plugged in by him before he lazily pulled out, “you took everything out of me, good girl”.

You panted as you felt both of your releases ooze out and down your inner thigh, Meli just stood back enjoying watching your body naturally push it out while fixing his pants.

“F~Fuck you look so hot like that, maybe I should fill you up more often. Could be a bit risky though” he joked, using his forefingers to push it back into you.

Meliodas slipped you into his arms from the table, not letting you use any of the little energy you had left in you to move, leaving your underwear at the table's base.

He watched as your tear stained cheeks hit his chest, your eyes struggling to stay open, but you did manage to notice that he was back to his regular self.

“S~Sorry about the mess” you yawned, knowing that everyone would be arriving back to the Boar Hat soon, “Don’t worry about that, let's just get you to bed”, he whispered, planting a simple kiss on your forehead.

His only priority was you, and he knew as long as you were taken care of, everything was fine. He couldn’t care less about the others, so much so that he had failed to mention to you that he may or may not have seen a few sin shaped shadows on the other side of the tavern door moments before you came. But that story would be for another day.

#sds meliodas #nnt meliodas #meliodas #meliodas x reader #meliodas smut #nanatsu no taizai #nanatsu no taizai smut #Seven Deadly Sins #seven deadly sins smut #seven deadly sins x reader #nanatsu no taizai x reader #sds smut #sds x reader #sds meliodas smut #nnt smut #meli noel work's

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marley-bean · 1 year

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@sudenlyimuzui commented:

“Why do you dislike Sheldon? No hate or anything I just haven’t watched the show in a while and can’t think of anything that sticks out about him”

And because my answer is so long, tumblr wouldn’t let me finish it in the comments. Besides, I think it’s a good idea to let everyone know why I have a problem with Sheldon. So here’s my answer:

I “hate” him because I hate that the writers took a strong, non-traditionally beautiful and feminine woman and made her trans. Don’t get me wrong— I have absolutely nothing against the trans community. Don’t twist it that way- I didn’t say that. I just hate that the writers tore down Shannon’s empowering story. Like here’s a woman who isn’t “beautiful”, who’s pretty masculine, but she’s attracted to men for 5 seasons and has been all of her life. She isn’t pretty, but people still love her, she has a support system and friends, and she’s comfortable in her body. That’s such a great example for girls who aren’t traditionally pretty, for girls who are more masculine in looks, for girls who love sports but feel like they should love “girly” things. Shannon proved you don’t have to be, to quote Meghan Trainor, “a stick figure silicone Barbie doll” in order to be beautiful, have love, have friends, have success, etc etc. And the writers, once again, ruined that message by trying to be inclusive of everyone.

Now, if there had been signs of Shannon, or any character really, feeling like they don’t belong in their body- like Unique for instance- I wouldn’t have a problem with that storyline. If it had been a consistent, “oh maybe Shannon doesn’t feel like a Shannon/doesn’t feel like she’s in the right body” all throughout seasons 1-5, then I wouldn’t have a problem with the storyline. If they planted the seeds, then let it bloom in s6, it wouldn’t bug me. It’d feel natural— or as natural as Glee can get. The storyline came way out of left field, and, in trying to be inclusive, they tore down one of their most relatable, most empowering storylines.

TL;DR: I hate Beiste’s trans storyline because, in doing so, the writers tore down another story of empowerment.

(Also see my Shannon Beiste tag. There’s a screenshot of a YouTube comment that says what I’m trying to say much better and more concise.)

#Shannon Beiste #Sheldon Beiste #anti Sheldon Beiste #anti glee writers #thoughts from a gleek #I hate glee #glee

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distort-opia · 5 months

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you know i often see people throwing around the claim "joker r*ped/sa'd barbara in tkj" (mainly to shame people for liking the joker or batjokes) even though alan moore has dedunked it at some point. like the only piece of media i can think of with joker as a rapist is the azzarello graphic novel which is shit and doesn't need to be accepted as canon. i know it's kinda of a touchy subject but i'd be interested to hear your thoughts

Well. You've pretty much said it, to be honest.

Even a cursory Google search will reveal that Azzarello's Joker (2008) is a one-off, non-canon story. The just as much stand-alone sequel, Batman: Damned has a grieving Harley Quinn almost force herself on Bruce, and yet I haven't heard people say Harley is a rapist. Hell, didn't Batman and Harley Quinn (2017) have Harley and Nightwing sleep together... with pretty dubious consent on Dick's side? And yet fans are able to acknowledge that these are not canon storylines and that the writer matters a lot-- in the case of the latter, it's co-written by Bruce Timm, who is infamous for his shitty portrayal of female characters (also see the animation Batman: The Killing Joke, in which Barbara very assertively has sex with Batman, because that's of course the only way a woman can exercise power). Actually, Barbara's character has suffered so much... there's even Batman Beyond 2.0 #28, in which Bruce apparently got Barbara pregnant, Dick's girlfriend at the time.

But we all dismiss these storytelling choices because we know they're idiotic. They go against the core of the characters, simple as that. Why is Joker not allowed the same? While what he canonically did to Barbara in TKJ was horrible, rape did not happen, and that's a fact. Any other implications of sexual assault can only be connected to Frank Miller's writing in the TDKR series (not canon), or that horrible (and again, not canon) book adaptation of TKJ by Christa Faust and Gary Phillips. Unfortunately, there are always some writers who think that it's just darker and grittier and cooler, more shocking to have Joker attempt rape or resort to sexual means of intimidation; though it's funny how it happens that these are also generally controversial writers for their sexist depictions of women.

But we do know why Joker is not afforded the same kind of treatment as other characters who got butchered by out-of-character stories, canon or otherwise. He's become the punching bag of the DC fandom; it's so easy to proclaim loud and proud these days how much you hate the Joker and want him dead. If you're an anti and looking to feel morally righteous and signal to your echo chamber how good and pure you are, it's a low hanging fruit to latch onto Joker and criticize him for all he's done. The problem, of course, is when these people start attacking actual, real-life fans over their fictional preferences, shipping or otherwise.

But to give a more general conclusion, and my actual opinion on the matter: Joker is a master manipulator. His main schtick is literally getting Batman to kill him by orchestrating all manner of situations; he manipulates his doctors, his henchmen, he manipulates Gotham itself through the media on countless occasions. The very reason why he did what he did to Barbara in TKJ was to manipulate her father into having a mental breakdown. Joker picks people to break and then breaks them psychologically, that is his MO. What he wants is to expose the people around him, he wants to show that deep down, everyone is rotten.

It probably becomes obvious why rape is inconsistent with this mindset. Joker isn't the kind of monster to make things happen by brute force, he's the kind of monster to manipulate people into the worst versions of themselves and then laugh at them as they hate themselves for it. He'll murder and torture and imply any manner of atrocity to make that happen, but the source of his glee is seeing people fall into the same dark pit, devoid of humanity, he's chosen to live in. (And don't even get me started on the fact that Joker was canonically shown to have been a victim of sexual assault himself as a child, in Batman: Streets of Gotham. As an adult, he's depicted as gruesomely taking revenge on the man who did it. Something tells me there's more than one reason why Joker would not resort to rape, and it goes beyond MOs or agendas.)

#I got a bit long but alas #this was prompted by whatever twitter meltdown is currently happening wasn't it #heard about it and heaved a long sigh. this is why I stay away from that hell hole #asks #long post #joker #rape mention #discussion of rape #fandom negativity

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brujahinaskirt · 2 years

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Okay! I fully admit the Charles Châtenay missions are on the overbaked side, and "French libertine" is an exhausted trope, but there is something I do, unironically, love about them...

[The Artist's Way spoilers & another rambling essay under the cut!]

... and that's how Arthur reacts.

Never with machismo, never with hostile masculine heterosexuality, never with dismissiveness, never with the casual testosterone-driven swagger (i.e., the mean-hearted, bigotry-driven humor) that is so common to gaming and indeed so common of how cismen often respond to the perceived feminine. Truly, the ways Arthur does NOT react to Charles say so much about who Arthur is and how he sees the world.

We see this same lack of hypermasculine hostility/mockery with a few other masculinity-eschewing characters too (the eccentric Algernon Wasp and damselish Albert Mason come to mind, the former Arthur is courteous to if curious about and the latter Arthur clearly identifies with and is downright affectionate to). But something about the Charles quests hit different... Frankly, I fully expected Arthur's snarky sarcasm to devolve into actively cruel, openly anti-gay jeering when I saw Charles come out in that dress, and I remember the way my stomach sank. But it didn't! In fact, I argue that in many respects, Arthur's writers went in the exact opposite direction... that is, the opposite direction of the cheap bigoted potshots some folks at Rockstar clearly misunderstood these stranger missions to be.

Give me a few bullet points to break it down and explain what I mean...

Arthur doesn't "get" Charles's artistic style at first, sure. But it isn't because he disapproves of the content or because he dislikes it; it's because his own style and subjects are so different. Arthur, like Albert, deals in the wildlife and environmental aspects of natural beauty. Charles? He deals in another form of natural beauty: human bodies in their purest and most "uncivilized" state. This is a critical distinction, and by approaching the topic through art, we also learn something else about Arthur, a character who engages in no canon sexual acts throughout the course of the game, on- or off-screen.

And that is this key element of Arthur's characterization: Though he is decidedly nonsexual, Arthur isn't repulsed by Charles's sexualness or the sexual nature of his art. On the contrary, Arthur reminds us that being a nonsexual person does not have to mean being prudish, theocratic, or anti-sexuality.

In fact, the only time Arthur scolds Charles is when he sternly reminds him of his responsibility to his women lovers. Given the historical period (and that several of said women lovers were married during their affair), this strikes me as less about chivalry and Christian family values and much more about basic kindness to women, who are at far greater risk of social & financial ruin due to extramarital affairs than men were. (At least when it comes to heterosexual affairs.) Arthur knows this quite well, given his own adoption of familial duties for Abigail when John abandoned her.

Arthur doesn't just blandly "accept" Charles, oh no. He is actively, unignorably delighted by Charles's sexual expression and the way it undermines the prudishness and aggressive sanitation that is the Christofascist American society law and order has long enshrined. When Arthur realizes the scandal Charles has caused and why, he quickly erupts into bemused, open, genuine laughter for one of the precious few times in the entire game. He's not laughing at Charles; he's laughing at the chaos around him, at how easily Charles used his art to crumble the veneer of respectability (shocking wives with more than a few saucy nudes of their husbands in the process). As he laughs in glee, he immediately jumps to Charles's defense to protect him from the backlash of his rebellion against social mores.

And when Arthur encounters Charles while he's disguised in the infamous dress? Not a second of condemnation or disgust, not one. Just innocent, earnest confusion -- "why are you dressed like that?" -- and once he understands what's going on, Arthur never mentions it again. He rushes Charles a little when Charles stops to flirt with some sailors, but he doesn't do so because he's scandalized; he wants to get Charles to safety and would rather avoid a fight. When Charles cheekily seduces a disrespectful man who attempts to solicit him for sex, sending the guy stumbling away in surprise, Arthur laughs again. And again: not at Charles, no, but at how easily Charles scandalizes and shocks and undermines just by being his outrageous self. He has fun with Charles, not at Charles's expense; they laugh together at how easy it is to crack the oppressively straitlaced "civilized" world that cannot face its own debauchery, deviance, and desire, and how that world flounders instantly without its security blanket of sameness.

Arthur depicts Charles relatively favorably in his journal. Charles gets multiple sketches and I think the one of his dress is quite flattering in pose and effort. Arthur also muses hopefully that maybe he'll run into him again in the South Pacific.

And personally? I think Arthur is an incredibly good sport about being the recipient of an extremely dramatic and extremely public gay kiss. He's flustered, sure, but it's clear from his quick recovery it's not because he's been emasculated or because he's repulsed; it's because Charles crossed a personal line. Perhaps a line that has something to do with the fact Arthur literally doesn't kiss anybody else in the entire fucking 200-hour game (!) and quite probably for many years before it, too.

I wish r* had done a better job of framing these quests so that we too were asked to laugh with Charles and Arthur and not at Charles. As it is, I feel as if I'm watching these two characters share a moment of impish and warmhearted joy, a celebration of hell-raising and sexual freedom antics at the expense of puritans... and meanwhile, the cutscene staging is asking me to laugh at a bad makeup job and hairy French man boobs. Alas, the cinematic team was just not in on the real joke.

But Arthur was. And for a character whose physical design is in many ways rugged masculinity on horse steroids & cocaine, I think that's pretty damn grand.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles chatenay #red dead redemption #redmeta

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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Here, Kitty Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Had some time on my hands & decided to give y'all an update. Enjoy the chapter & thank you for the love! And be safe!-Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

THREE.

The Saturday after your run-in with Aizawa and your museum arrest, you’re feeling damn good about yourself.

You know that it has nothing to do with arresting those four fools with their fancy quirks and ski masks at the International Pro Museum or even the hostages and, surprisingly, the cops for crediting you for your skills when they got a look at you on the security cameras beating the shit out of the robbers.

You know that the bubbly feeling in your chest and the confidence you feel for the entire weekend is attributed to your surprise meeting with Aizawa in his hero’s gear, goggles, and all. God, did he look sexy. Even better than he does at school.

You were glad to actually talk to him, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to without your hero’s gear. Being in those clothes and behind that mask allows you to slip into another skin and be someone else for a chance. Someone sexier, fiercer, and much more mysterious than you.

You were even happier to have saved Aizawa from certain death. It feels good to save anyone’s life, but to save the life of a seasoned pro? That was even better.

Though he didn’t credit you for helping him during the robbery when he was interviewed by the local news, just knowing you were there in that moment and lent a helping hand filled you with glee as you sat on your couch on Saturday morning with a bowl of cereal, watching it all on TV.

You had come home at the ass crack of dawn that morning, tired, achy, and in need of a shower. You slipped into your cat form and jumped up into your bedroom, stretching once your paws hit the floor. Once you were inside, you got out of your hero’s gear, took a hot shower to wash the night away, and slept all Saturday, never being interrupted by anyone.

Now, on a free Saturday night, you’re about to do it all over again. Except now, your stroll into the city is less about fighting crime and more about enjoying a simple nightly stroll. You feel like you’re owed that for constantly busting your ass to stop villains from taking over your city every night.

You don’t even remember when you first created Night Claw, but what had started out as a little fun pastime to spice up your nights and make them more exciting had turned into a full-time position overnight. You go for the crime that occurs on the quiet streets at night: from petty theft from the kid who’s bad news to the expert villain looking to make a name for themselves in the nation.

So technically, you are too busy with work to date. You’re a school counselor by day, and an ass-kicking hero by night. You walk the streets looking for trouble, trying to snag any arrest you can to boost your name even more. The only person who knows is Nemuri after she caught you crawling into her apartment by accident in your hero suit, which is how you two became friends.

And being the good friend she is, she had offered to help you become an official pro hero. “With a body like that, you’d make it,” she giggled, smacking you on the ass. However, there are three things wrong with that, as you told her:

You didn’t graduate from UA; just a normal high school where you were bullied every single day for being a cat hybrid if not harassed by horny teens.

You know as a cat girl, you’d never be taken seriously, so you resort to kicking ass in secrecy despite the possibility of being arrested because you don’t have a license.

The Hero’s Commission is a bitch according to Nemuri and Mic’s horror stories and you do not want to deal with them. Plus, pros also have to deal with the public up their asses, constant harassment in the streets, and the possibility of being killed while fighting villains too.

No, thank you. So this is your solution to spicing up your nights and flexing your quirk. You love doing this and you don’t count on stopping anytime soon.

Which is why after making sure the apartment complex is quiet, you slip out of bed, throw on your hero fit, and shift into your cat form. Immediately, all of your senses shift, increasing times ten: you can see the lint on the floor; hear the vibrations of someone vacuuming the floor in the lobby; feel the fibers of the carpet against your paws which your claws instinctively begin to knead into before you jump up onto the window ledge. You then jump out onto the long branch of the cherry blossom tree at your window where the bark is chipped off from doing the same thing many, many times over the months.

The heightened senses, claws, and ability to shift into a cat are just some of the things your quirk allows you. Your eyes can switch between the pretty browns of a human and the yellow slits of a feline, allowing you to blend into the human population better (besides your obvious tail and ears) and use your cat eyes to your advantage during your crime-fighting sprees. You’re also given great agility and flexibility even in your human form, allowing you to jump, leap, and run at mindblowing speed.

But what’s even better is that every time you shift into human form after being in cat form, you stay in the clothes you’re in before shifting (which saves you some very embarrassing moments). You’re also in complete control of your quirk; however, during dangerous situations when your fight or flight kicks in, you transform into your cat form without warning, which comes in handy too.

However, there are some cons and drawbacks. For one, you have cat-like tendencies, which means you play with anything shiny or small. You always get bored easily which has led you to carry toys and a bit of catnip in your tote bag when you’re on break. In addition, when you’re angry, you tend to growl or hiss at someone, or when you’re relaxed or content, you purr.

And for two, which is also something you’re trying to be careful with, your cat form only lasts for so long. You usually use it as an easier way to roam the streets without gaining attention and utilize it during your missions. But if you happen to stay in it for longer than twenty minutes or so, you start to grow exhausted which stays even after you shift back into your human form. This is why you alternate between shifting while out on the town, only shifting into human form when you’re sure it’s time (which is usually when you’re kicking ass).

Tonight, you don’t plan on being out or in cat form for too long. You just want a nice, quiet walk in the city. So you jump from your spot in the tree, land on all fours, and immediately begin tottering away from the UA campus.

The walk into the city is a breeze, except for the occasional squirrel you try to chase or ant you paw at as you cut through Musutafu’s park. Not many people are out tonight–just the dog walkers and runners. It’s a beautiful night for each. There’s not a cloud in the starry sky and the air is cool on your stark black fur.

When you finally get downtown, the quietness begins to fade. Now it is replaced with the roar of activity on a Saturday night: the young crowd roaming the streets, looking for some fun; the usual crowds banded together outside of bars and nightclubs, whose feet you have to watch as you slip into alleyways; the rush of cars beeping and honking impatiently. You make sure to steer clear of them. You love the constant noise and rush of activity. It always brings some excitement.

‘What to do,’ you wonder to yourself, eyes fixating on the many buildings that lie in wait for your consumption like a row of cakes. As if answering you, your stomach rumbles and you realize you hadn’t eaten dinner.

You decide to walk through a random alleyway and that is when you catch the whiff of something: BBQ. You look up at the building you stand beside, realizing that it’s a homely-looking Korean BBQ restaurant. The scent of the many spices and herms fills your nose. Your mouth begins to water, especially when you stand in front of the restaurant and see the chicken dumplings and beef skewers in the window.

‘Hell, yes!’ you think excitedly. Surely, you can sneak in there when someone opens the door, jump into the window, and snatch a bite without anyone noticing. You silently sit in wait, perched at the door, fully prepared to snag yourself some of that bomb-ass food.

What you don’t prepare for, however, is the sudden drop of water that falls onto your head. You let out a small mew of surprise and confusion.

‘Da fuck?’ you think as you look up at the sky, only to find the clouds beginning to cover the twinkling stars above. Another droplet falls, this time on your nose. You scrunch it and wipe at the droplet with your paw, shaking out the fur on your head.

Then another falls. And then another. And then suddenly, it begins drizzling, which means it will be pouring soon. ‘Shit!’ you think in panic. Immediately, you turn around to hurry back to campus, running as fast as you can. If you’re not fast enough, you’ll be out here all night in the rain. And God, do you hate rain!

As you run through the city, the drizzle quickly turns to a downpour. Sheets of cold rain fall from the sky, soaking your fur. The cars that rush by only make things worse, their tires sloshing rainwater all over you. But still, you don’t stop though your legs burn. The adrenaline in your feline body pumps blood into your heart and veins, pushing you on through your journey home.

You turn a right corner at the end of a street and begin to run across the empty, wet street. ‘Gotta get home,’ you think. ‘Gotta–’

A sudden pain shoots through your front right paw, crawling up your leg. While you say “ow” in your head, it comes out as a hiss. The pain causes you to fumble and you fall onto your side in the middle of the street. ‘Shift, you idiot!’ you think.

You slowly inhale, trying to conjure than familiar warmth that overtakes you before you shift back into your human form…but it doesn’t happen. You’re still a cat. ‘What the fuck?’ you think, panicking even more. It must be because you’re hurt. Your injury has fucked up your quirk completely!

‘Get up!’ you think. ‘Get up before you get killed, idiot!’

You try to do so, but the pain in your paw doesn’t even allow you to place it on the ground. Every time you try to put weight on your foot, it pulls at the muscle in the tiny bones in your leg, making you mew in agony. You must have been running for too long or pushed yourself too hard. Either way, you’re hurt. Biting your tongue, you try again to gingerly place your paw on the ground, attempting to limp home.

From the corner of your eye, you see bright lights emerging from the darkness, getting closer and closer. A loud honk cuts through the air and into your eardrums. A car. You freeze, your eyes wide and tail frizzed in fear, knowing that this is your end.

However, the car suddenly stops right in front of you, nearly brushing your whiskers. You watch, still frazzled, as the cat door suddenly opens and the driver steps out with an umbrella. Warely, you look up into the soft eyes and wrinkled face of a very old woman wearing a pink trench coat and an umbrella that she holds over her head. Her silvery blonde hair makes her look like an angel, and in your delirious, exhausted state, you think she is one.

“Oh, dear!” she gasps, covering her mouth. “Poor little thing. Are you alright, little one?”

The old lady crouches down to your height and slowly moves to pick you up. ‘Wait!’ you want to protest, but all that comes out is a pitiful meow. The lady’s face softens as her eyes drop to your limp paw. “You’re hurt,” she states softly. “Don’t worry; I won’t hurt you.” She goes to pick you up, carefully placing both hands on your sides as she scoops you up, her umbrella held under her armpit.

“Don’t you worry,” she coos, placing you close to her chest. “You’re safe now, little one.”

‘Wait, lady!’ you scream internally. ‘You don’t understand! I’m not a cat! Put me down!’

But you’re so exhausted and feel so safe under the umbrella’s protection and in the woman’s arms that all you can do is close your eyes as she carries you into her car, your panicked run finally catching up to you.

You fall asleep in her lap, not feeling the car move as she drives you to her destination. You only awaken when the car suddenly stops, jolting you awake.

“Here we are, little one,” the lady coos, scooping you up and holding you securely against her chest as she gets out of her little car. “Welcome to your new home!” she giggles. “For now, at least.”

She motions an arm out to the cute little cafe sandwiched between a flower shop and a ramen restaurant. Outside of it are potted flowers, and tables and chairs for sitting outside to eat. But through the large glass windows of the building, you can see the many scratching posts, cat towers, and toys littering the clean hardwood floors. Above the doors reads “Koa’s Purrr Palace and Cafe” in the most adorable, pink cursive.

While the cat cafe would’ve been cute to you as a human, it certainly isn’t cute now, especially when the lady unlocks the door and begins to carry you inside. ‘No!’ you want to shout, but it comes out as a meow of protest. The lady glances at you, chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll feed ya, but after we get you cleaned up and warm. Don’t want ya catchin’ cold.”

All you can do is sit and take it as she carries you into the back of the clean, lavender-scented cat cafe. The lady sits you down on the counter of a sink as she fills it up with warm water and soap with the scent of eucalyptus. Though you squirm slightly and yowl, she keeps a firm hold on you as she places you in the sudsy water and proceeds to bathe you.

She hums a tune as she expertly scrubs your fur, gently massaging your pleasure points, including the base of your tail and the bridge of your nose. Combined with that and the scent of the bath, you find yourself slowly relaxing into the horrible situation you’ve found yourself in. After a few agonizing minutes, the lady pronounces you clean, takes you out, and dries you off with a fluffy, pink towel that you find yourself purring from.

“There we are,” she coos. “Nice and dry, and nice and happy. You must be exhausted though.”

She picks you back up and walks you to the front of the cafe, right over to the glass boxes holding over twelve cats, some in the same cage. The cages are spacious and comfortable, reminding you of condos with their own scratch posts, litter boxes, food, and water station, and folded quilt blankets for makeshift beds. Only except for people, all you see are cats cuddled up in their beds, fast asleep.

The lady begins to open an empty cage meant for you, complete with your own space and privacy. ‘No!’ you want to scream. ‘No, don’t!’ You’re too exhausted and relaxed to fight though, your body feeling sluggish and heavy.

However, the lady must feel your heartbeat accelerate because she begins to pet your head. “There, now,” she coos. “It’s alright. I know it’s new, but you’re just here for the night hopefully.” Gently, she places you into the cage on your new bed with its fluffy, soft fibers, right in front of your bowl of water and kibble. Then she closes the door and smiles at you, peeking at you through the metal bars. “Sleep tight, little one,” she whispers.

‘Y/N,’ you want to tell her, your face dug into your cotton-scented blanket. ‘My name is Y/N.’

But when she leaves to cut out the lights and you’re left in the darkness and silence of the cat cafe, the exhaustion finally sets in again and sleep overtakes you.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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ccchloister · 10 months

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It's so strange how the problems that come with existing online have forced me to find words to explain concepts that I assumed were mostly universal. I thought knowledge, talent, expertise, hard work and persistence were skills that were valuable and should be encouraged in everyone. A.I. has taught me otherwise.

A.I. might as well stand for Anti-Intellectualism, because that's the spirit behind the excitement. It literally takes the skill and labor out of skilled labor. Learning is being treated like an inconvenience, a problem to be eliminated in the name of efficiency. Entire disciplines are being treated as grand sacrifices in the name of mass production and instant gratification.

Why does art need to be efficient? It's not food. It's not medicine. It's not shelter. How fast are people shoveling content into their gob that between social media, streaming, and physical media, it's still not enough? Technology has already pushed creators to pumping out content at an unhealthy and unnatural rate just to try to appease social media algorithms. Now that same output is being used to train new algorithms to pump it out even faster while cutting creators out entirely. It’s sick and cruel. And instead of this exploitation being treated like an injustice that needs to be corrected, I'm told "It's inevitable. Adapt or die. Don't put your work online if you don't want it taken", delivered either with condescending pity, callous apathy, or malicious glee.

If A.I. fans aren't taking the "hardened pragmatic realist" approach, then they are shallowly aping socialist ideas, blaming capitalism for exploitation, not the tech. A very "guns don't kill people, people kill people" take. Just because exploitation of creatives is not a new concept doesn't mean A.I. isn't responsible for making it INFINITELY WORSE. They’ve also decided that people shouldn't be pursuing art and knowledge for the sake of profit and that the skilled creators trying to protect their labor are greedy, elitist gatekeepers trying to keep art from "the common man" (because creatives aren't the common man, apparently). It's that same resentment and distrust of experts that's typical of anti-intellectualism, except creative fields are in this weird place where they aren't even respected the way STEM is, so there's an extra layer of belittling and disrespect to the othering. Consumers feel entitled to art, but they don't understand how it's made, and they definitely don't respect it as a discipline.

The glut of creative content available for "the common man" to consume has never been greater or more accessible, but it's still not enough. It's not enough to just consume art. They want ownership. They want the sense of accomplishment that comes from making something, without having actually *made* it. And despite their finger-wagging at creatives wanting to protect their careers, they also want to make some money. Etsy is flooded with A.I. prints, kindle is filled with A.I. books, spotify is loaded with A.I. songs. There’s even A.I. kickstarters. Along with replacing writers and animators, CEOs want to replace actors, voice actors, and models with simulacrums they can make do whatever they want, forever, and A.I. fans are hoping they'll be the ones hired to facilitate that process. Even without actively profiting, A.I. still devalues the work of skilled laborers. Why commission a skilled artist when for 15 dollars you can buy a machine that will give you infinite works of the same or better quality, instantly? Do you have faith in consumers to prioritize ethics over convenience? Do you think it's right and fair and good to make compensating skilled creators an act of charity rather than a necessity?

A.I. users overestimate their contribution to the final product, thinking their idea is so unique and their vision so strong, that of course they should claim ownership… conveniently ignoring all the infinite little decisions A.I. made for them based off the knowledge and fine motor skills of millions of artists. It's like they think fully realized Good Ideas are a natural resource waiting to be excavated, and traditional creators had the unfair advantage of pickaxes, physical strength and a knowledge of geology to find the rich veins. Now A.I. is providing scanners and and powerful machinery so "the common man" doesn't need strength or knowledge to quickly mine those same veins first.

But that's not what art is, and that's not how creation works. Art is communication. Imagination is fostered through life experience, observation and processing information with your human brain. It's something every living person could do, because every person is unique with unique life experiences. Creation is practice, study, experimentation, problem solving, and adapting to limitations. There is nothing stopping anyone from doing these things. Natural ability has been grossly overvalued: most people with "talent" were not making hyper-realistic paintings at 13 like Picasso. What happens is a child shows a slight aptitude, the adults in their life notice and give them positive reinforcement, and then they are motivated and encouraged to pursue that interest. So instead of treating the naturally talented as having an unfair advantage, why not blame the adults in your life for not encouraging your interests at a young age. Or if you want to be brutally honest, blame yourself for not pursuing your interests despite a lack of external validation. You have agency.

I try to imagine, what is an A.I. fan's idea of a perfect future? One where no one has any advantages that another person doesn't, where "everyone's special so no ones special"? Where all labor is automated and no one has to do anything they don't want to and everyone spends their infinite free time bettering themselves for it's own sake rather than for money? Every time they mention the evils of capitalism and how we need universal basic income and other ideas of a post-work society it makes me want to pull my hair out. We don't *have* those things. We aren't even close to those things. So it is functionally useless to factor that into your argument. Who is Tech to use A.I.'s elimination of thousands of jobs in non-Tech industries as a bargaining chip to try and incentivize the government to create safety nets for those displaced? Since when has your government prioritized it's citizens over corporations? Have proponents always been this naive, or only when trying to assuage concerns over the consequences of their new toy?

Even if we did achieve that techie utopia, what makes them think most people will use their free time productively, exercising their brain for it's own sake? Because speaking for myself, I can have every good intention of using my time to create and learn, but those things frequently lose out to short term, dopamine-driven feedback loops like social media and video games. Without any external incentives, I guarantee far less people will pursue learning for its own sake if the knowledge-based roles that keep society functioning are filled by machines. Think of how we've had to reintroduce exercise into are lives just for exercise's sake. Hows that going? Again, speaking for myself as an overweight person: Not Great. I might intellectually know physical fitness is important, but the difficulty and unenjoyable nature of exercise and the benefits not being immediate and obvious means it frequently loses out to activities I do enjoy. I know not everyone is like me, but many, many people are. Now replace physical fitness with cognitive abilities. Abilities that require work, who's benefits are totally abstract, and would be wholly unnecessary for living in an A.I dependent society. If that doesn't give you chills up your spine, then you must stand to benefit from a culture of stupidity that's hopelessly dependent on tech. And I hate you.

No ones going to read all this.

#AI #Tech #Art #Artists #creation #anti intellectualism #knowledge #labor #exploitation #Long #word dump #future

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