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be-dazzled · 4 months

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All Treats, No Tricks

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser October 31, 2023 Posted: Decemebr 26, 2023

Writer’s Corner: Months too late but I think the timing worked for me. The ending sounds and feels more wintery/christmas-y, isn't it? I don't feel like this one's good enough as compared to my Juvia Day entry so your honest feedback is very much welcomed. Help me improve!

All rights reserve to Hiro Mashima, original creator.

Masterlist

...

The cold season rolled in and seeped throughout the grounds of Magnolia. Its silent breeze knocked puny, tree branches against locked windows. It howled through the night, prowling the silent grounds of sleeping citizens. For those who made the mistake of forgetting to lock their windows, the October breeze pried into their room and wreaked havoc on all that it could carry. Easily targeted all that weighed close to none. Especially ripping off the pages on the wall calendar and revealing today’s date – October 31, Halloween.

After the fiasco that was the Fairy Tail Horror House of X791, that type of event was forever banned in the town of Magnolia. In its wake a new tradition was born where families were invited to decorate their homes to win lovely prizes, even encouraging them to hand out candies to children going around house to house, mage guilds included.

Rather than eerily quiet, Halloween in Fairy Tail was fun and lively.

The troublemakers – Natsu and Happy – had a good idea of wearing costumes to scare off the children who, in the words of Natsu the Demon King, “dared to enter my house of terror,” punctuating it with a high-pitched maniacal laugh that did not, at all, scare a living soul. But he was enjoying chasing after children who somehow believed Demon Kings existed and that they were ridiculously funny. Erza, wearing the shortest (skimpiest but no one dared to say it) witch costume, took up her sword and pretended to battle the Demon King. She was acting, she claimed but Lucy, the only writer in the room argued that it was an inaccurate depiction and didn’t make any sense plot-wise. Why would a witch have a sword when she had magic powers? But who would take a Leopard Girl seriously? Donned in a tight-fitting onesie that hugged her body like a second skin and accentuated all her dips and curves, Lucy the Sexy Leopard lost all credibility.

A certain ice-make mage, on the other hand, found it all juvenile. Yet, Gray was pursuing kids around the guild, the end of his tape costume riding the wind as he did. He wasn’t a scary mummy, he deduced, since instead of screams of terrors, the guild was filled with children’s ecstatic cheers and giggles. Well, half giggles and half scandalous because the end of Gray’s mummy tape got stuck on some pillar and pulled, making him a half-naked, pervert who happened to wear pants made of strip linen.

Erza smacked him on the back of the head.

So inappropriate.

But not as inappropriate as the thing that he was about to witness.

Juvia, Fairy Tail’s resident water-mage, wasn’t too comfortable with her assigned costume so she kept herself hidden backstage. She watched in the shadows as her comrades showed off their costumes, parading around the Fairy Tail building, welcoming their guests with booze (for the adults), colorful drinks (for the kids) and some imaginative snacks. She wondered how come the only thing that connected her decorated brassiere and the underwear that covered her nether region was just strings snaked around her torso. She asked Erza about it but the only answer she got was the mesh material on her head, some sort of see-through veil, its length reaching her waist but covered nothing. Plus, the heavy and expensive accessories around her neck, arms and wrists made the look less racy than it actually was. They lent her some air of distinct. She did a once-over in front of the mirror, twirling around to inspect herself and couldn’t help but think she might be missing a piece on her costume. Maybe a skirt to cover her lower body? Because she swore her bottom was hanging out.

Erza said the long veil on top of her head covered it enough and that she should stop worrying about it.

She really should worry about it.

Even if Mira and the already drunk Cana assured her that she would be the envy of the room and would surely get Gray the Half-Naked Mummy’s attention. The latter was enough encouragement though, which emboldened Juvia to come out of her hiding. That and finding her self-declared love rival enjoying her time with Mummy Gray, her beloved. She charged towards the two, about to bring hell to the Leopard Girl, when a soft breeze touched her exposed skin and Juvia had another think coming. But it was too late. She was out in the open now and everyone was hollering and whistling at her ensemble. As she watched her comrades strut around in their own Halloween costumes though – the moon princess Mira-chan; vampire Lisanna; Elfman and Evergreen in a couple’s costume ala Adam and Eve; the Thunder Legion Tribe in what appeared to be some sort of forest creatures (were they supposed to be Pokémon and was someone supposed to collect ‘em all?); and archery goddess Wendy – Juvia felt like she pulled the short end of the stick.

Because what the hell was she wearing?

It was a fucked-up gypsy dancer costume if you asked Gray. Beautiful, he’d go as far as saying it was nose-bleed-inducing, but definitely fucked-up. He wasn’t too happy about that.

Even Cana was modestly covered in her own fucked-up priestess costume.

People – ugly men, irritating old geezers, boys that weren’t Gray-sama – started coming up to Juvia with Macao and Wakaba in the lead. She made it obvious she wasn’t comfortable with their attention but the crowd had already gathered around her. She searched for the black spiky hair in it but found her precious Gray-sama still standing beside Leopard Girl. Summoning all her magic power, Juvia immediately fell into her fighting stance, about to tsunami all those perverts out of the way when her vision turned pitch-black.

“Eh?”

She extended her arm to feel for anything, anything at all, that could explain why she was instantly blinded, only to feel strong fingers grab her wrist and whiz her away from the complaining crowd.

“Eh!”

“I guess this is safe for now.”

She didn’t need her eyes to know who it was. Juvia could recognize that voice anywhere, even when it was broken by huffs.

“Gray-sama…”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He swiftly released his grip on her hand and Juvia pouted at the loss of contact. A sudden chill replaced the warmth that encircled her wrist. She didn’t like it.

“Sorry about that.”

“No!” Juvia cleared up, in case he might take it the wrong way, “Gray-sama shouldn’t apologize.”

The water mage wasn’t sure where they went or how far they had come from the guild. But wherever Gray was, she was always safe with him.

“You saved Juvia from the commotion.”

A commotion caused by her inappropriate appearance, Gray ought to say but decided not to. Instead, he said a terse ‘It was nothing’.

Her ears might have deceived her but Juvia could place a grin on his voice. She could imagine that small curve of his lips, wanting to see it with her own eyes but something was still blocking her view. Something soft and rather silky, heavy on her crown too. It covered her from head to toe. She clutched the unidentified veil in her fist and realized it was the same fabric as the covering of the long table back at the guild. Juvia tried to pull on the cloth, trying to get rid of the covering when Gray started speaking again.

“…something like that.”

The covering muffled Gray’s words. As she was trying desperately to uncover herself, Juvia only caught the tail end of what he was saying. She stopped for a moment, tipped her head to the side, deciding whether to ask him to repeat what he said, which would give Gray the impression that she wasn’t listening to him, or just pretend as if she heard him.

Sensing her confusion despite the wall of fabric between them, Gray repeated his words, this time a bit louder and very much clearer than earlier.

“Don’t wear something like that.”

It took her a moment to realize but Juvia caught on to what the ice-make mage meant. It was her scant costume. Remembering how some cloth and some strings strategically covered those areas, Juvia internally agreed with Gray. She shouldn’t be wearing something like that again, nodding her head furiously that she might just break her own neck.

“In public.”

He added before clearing his throat and inviting Juvia to walk around the neighborhood, not giving her an opening to say anything back about his last comment. Juvia had the tendency to twist his words, or rather, which was always the case, point out what exactly he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Don’t wear something like that in public.

He meant only to wear it for him in private, right?

Gray started toward the direction of the crowd, where most people were scattered in small groups. He was saying something Juvia was not able to hear through that thick white covering hanging over her. She followed where she assumed Gray was headed, straining her ears to listen to his footsteps whilst she blindly soldiered on through the veil-made darkness. The water mage was starting to get frustrated with the covering she’d been trying to get out of since earlier. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t find the beginning or end of that long, thick fabric weighing down on her with a smooth but consistent fall, much like her magic – a curtain of water.

Ironic.

And why was Gray not helping her at all? It wasn’t like he was busy keeping quiet since he had all the time in the world to run his mouth about god knows what. His talking was like a soft buzz in Juvia’s ears – a distant noise that didn’t make sense.

Despite the cold breeze and the fact that she was practically naked inside, her body was starting to feel hot. A sheen of perspiration started to form over her skin. The heavy covering not only successfully blocked her view but also any air in and out of her fabric jail.

“G-Gray-sama…” She called out but the thick veil separating them blacked the words out, “…help Juvia~”

Gray hadn’t paid her any attention (deliberately ignoring her or unintentionally forgetting, Juvia wasn’t sure) until the poor water mage kicked on an uneven terrain and tripped. She braced herself for impact, throwing her hands in front of her as she was about to fall on the pavement, face-first. But the impact never came. Instead, Juvia’s body was pressed against something hard. Not as hard as she remembered pavement should be though. Curiosity spurred Juvia to explore this not-a-pavement surface, flattening her palms on what turned out to be Gray’s firm pecs, the slightest bump giving her the idea that she might just be… touching on Gray’s...

She rubbed them just to make sure.

“Uhn… Ju-Juvia…”

And kneaded for better measure.

“T-that’s… he-hey…”

She was definitely right.

Gods do exist!

Juvia could hear the strain in his voice. And something else. Something she wasn’t familiar with. But worry bumped curiosity off first place. Gray sounded like he might be in pain and the idea horrified Juvia that she might be the reason for it. He did break her fall and she was comfortably using her as a human cushion. So, she slid her open palms lower, eliciting more low and strange noises from the man beneath her. She ignored the noise in favor of resting her hands over what she assumed was Gray’s abdomen, intent on pushing herself off him to free her poor savior from his distress. She was a little bit sorry that she had to use his body to do so. Which, unbeknownst to Juvia, was stirring something in Gray that should not be stirred. Not when they were in public like this.

Oh, if Juvia could see the ice-make mage’s reaction now – gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw.

She successfully leaned away, readying to pull her knees so she could prop herself up and fully get off of poor Gray when a cold breeze whizzed past them, magically finding the end of the frustrating veil and blew the hem of the fabric covering her body. Gray was a hero the second time when he slapped that cloth back to its rightful place. Saving the water mage from the embarrassment of public indecent exposure.

“Eeep!”

But bumping her to another level of embarrassment.

Gray only realized where his hands were touching when Juvia’s body wiggled and twisted above him. The force of his ‘heroic act’ slammed Juvia flatly on top of him again.

“G-Gray-sama felt Ju-Ju-Juvia’s bottom!”

She muttered, fidgeting at the heat that spread over both cheeks, either because Gray’s hands were still cupping her ass or the mere force of his slap, or both.

“So, G-Gray-sama was into this kind of… s-s-stuff?” She whispered to herself.

But that wasn’t a whisper. It was more of a loud musing because that one Gray heard through the fabric barrier between them.

“No!” He strongly denied it. “That’s… I’m not… hey!”

For a good minute, they were a tangled mess – him trying to, but very much cautiously, push her off of him, slipping on the fabric when he tried to stand up with Juvia still on top of him, and her trying to pull herself away from him, which proved to be a struggle since Gray just couldn’t stay still. It didn’t help that the thick cloth separating them from each other was too silky and slippery to the touch.

Gray could only cry how that freaking veil was the devil. The devil! And he quickly regretted whisking the long mantle off the table to cover Juvia with, until they finally detached themselves from each other. Both were breathless from the endeavor.

Passersby threw them ugly looks, which made Gray realize that covering Juvia with the table mantle was not one of his brightest ideas. He tried to rearrange the cloth, so that Juvia was still fully covered (her fucked-up costume hidden), but made it so that her head was popping out of the makeshift ghost costume so at least she could see where they were going and avoid another mishap. The water mage, thank goodness, stood still and quiet, as Gray secured the long textile around her neck with a knot made of his mummy tape. He smirked at his creation, proud of his quick thinking. Then broke into cackles he tried to suppress but couldn’t, scrutinizing her attire – a Juvia floating head. Now, that’s a true Halloween costume.

“Gray-sama shouldn’t be laughing at Juvia.” She bemoaned. “Not when he’s looking like that.”

Gray followed her eyes down his lower body to realize he was stripped down to his G x J boxers, using up what remained of his mummy tape costume on Juvia.

“Whoa!”

It was Juvia’s turn to laugh at him. But Gray took no offense to it and joined in, the both of them laughing together and at each other in their poor state. They were so stuck in their own world that Gray belatedly noticed the scandalized glare thrown at both of them – mostly on him – especially by children who were often told to wear something in public.

Gray scooped Juvia off the ground (which was totally unnecessary by everyone’s account) and whisked the water mage, a second time, away from the crime scene.

Young couples are too bold nowadays.

It’s probably because of the full moon.

...

Gray hid them at some back alley. He surreptitiously peeked through the corner, with an unusually quiet water mage still carried in both arms. Only after making sure no one was following after them, not the police or an angry mob, that Gray could finally puff a relief. He settled Juvia on the ground as gently as he could. And wondered why she was running out of breath when Gray did all the running.

“Are you alright, Juvia?”

“Y-y-yes.”

She stuttered. Round blue eyes were spinning like wheels on the run.

“Erm… are you sure?”

She sure didn’t look okay.

Gray was so accustomed to Juvia that he could read her like a book. Every word and every sentence he could easily interpret. And this reaction from her was probably caused by him bolting her away. He should have thought of his actions thoroughly because who knows what Juvia’s creative imagination must have conjured of him holding her in a bridal carry.

Gray and Juvia’s wedding? Them on their honeymoon, crossing the threshold into their master bedroom? Probably, both.

He settled a hand on her shoulders. The thick eyebrows on his forehead were knitted – quite bothered by the possibility that she could still slip into her imaginary land when she had the real thing right in front of her now. Unlike before, Gray had become more receptive to her feelings. And unlike before, he made conscious actions to show that he returned those very feelings. Had he not made it clear to her?

“Juvia…”

His coaxing willed Juvia back to reality, to where she and Gray were in a back alley hiding.

“Juvia is okay, Gray-sama.”

Her blue eyes returned to normal and Gray could slip a sigh of relief. Without a need to worry now, Gray retrieved his hand and suggested they come back to the guild when Juvia’s made-shift cloak started to come undone. Her Halloween costume – the brassiere connected with some barely-there knots – peeked through the opening and threatened to reveal itself in its full glory. Which was bad for Gray for the following reasons: a) Juvia was still half-lying on the ground; b) they were in some dark, back-alley; and c) they were alone in that dark alley.

And d) he was still just wearing his boxers.

“Ju-Juvia!”

But it was Gray’s fingers that yanked the edges of the loosening drape and clasped them together against her chest. Another bad idea of Gray’s now that his fists were pressed down against her breasts. Soft and quite big. Not that it surprised him. He was very much familiar with how Juvia’s breasts felt to the touch. Not that he openly touched them either. Opportunities just happened to present themselves to him. Oh how tortured and conflicted he was. That stirring inside his stomach earlier was rapidly brewing into something that shouldn’t be brewing.

“Uhn…”

What a cute voice!

Damn, it was like the universe was trying to tell him something.

Gray yanked his evil hands and put them back to his side. Away from Juvia’s soft mounds.

“S-s-sorry.”

But that lecherous costume was taunting him again, the deep valley of her breasts peering through the slightest opening. He ordered himself to look away but his sinful eyes did not stray even just a little. So, he chose to just fight the rising heat that burned his cheeks. If she asked, he could blame that one on the weather.

Gray cleared his throat. Thinking that by doing so, Juvia might not notice him ogling. He reached out his hands and started to tighten the mummy tape again around her neck. There was a crisp silence between them, which Gray appreciated. Juvia’s focused gaze at his hands was reason enough for him to struggle to steady his fingers as he looped the tape. But in the end, he was able to fix it.

“All done.”

She thanked him with a lovely smile – the kind that always followed him in his dreams. The warm smile that kept him company when he was alone. The low howl of the October breeze made him aware that they were in a dark alley where people scarcely passed through. It had a wicked way of conjuring today’s moments that the courteous Gray would rather tuck safely into the back of his memory – when Juvia stepped out of hiding in her inappropriate costume; when he unintentionally spanked and cupped her butt-cheeks; when Juvia rubbed her palms over his breasts; and when he fastened the ends of the cloth and accidentally pressed on her soft mounds. These memories he’d rather bury in the depths of his consciousness and only unearth them when he was alone.

Right now, he wasn’t alone. He was with Juvia, the star of those evoking memories, in a place where there was little to no chance of anyone walking in on them if Gray allowed some of his dreams to come alive. Clandestine. He stopped that thought and suggested they walk back to the guild. He needed the exercise.

Juvia pointed out to him his current state and Gray miraculously found some cloak flapping with the wind, hanging outside somebody’s window. It was black, a total contrast to Juvia’s white ones. He figured no one was going to miss that drabby old cloak.

As they took the route to the guild, Gray considered walking Juvia to Fairy Hills instead. But remembered he was barred from showing even just his shadow there. His ban has yet to run its course so the guild – the very place they left earlier – was the sensible place to go, especially since he and Juvia were just wearing make-shift coverings that could unravel anytime. They had to avoid crowds.

Gray was deep in thought when a flash of blue caught his eyes. He snapped his head in its direction, eyes widening in awe at what his vision revealed.

“Look Juvia!” He pointed the all-smiling, happily distracted Juvia to a decorated house where three or four children were walking up to its stoop. “It’s you.”

Juvia followed the direction of Gray’s pointing and scanned the surroundings for anything that resembled herself or whatever it was that reminded her beloved of the water-mage. Surely, it must not have been the waving tube decoration, flapping around something that, when you squint your eyes at the right angle, resembled arms. Or the scary-looking life-sized doll made of blue hay, wearing what appeared to be a blow-up replica of Juvia’s hat. That must not be how he saw Juvia, right?

Without receiving an answer to these questions, Juvia was suddenly yanked against Gray’s side. One arm hung over her shoulder; the weight pulled them both down to a crouch like they were hiding. Their cheeks were close, sharing a border, but not touching, not yet at least. They were just close enough for Juvia to feel his breath on her now-flushed cheek when he covertly spoke to her.

“That one. She looks exactly like you.”

Juvia caught herself gawking at him, at Gray’s face which was fully and resolutely turned to the direction where he was pointing her to. She felt slightly guilty about that because one, that wasn’t even the first physical touch they’d shared just counting the ones they had tonight (not the most daring one either); and two, Gray was heartily showing her something. So, Juvia summoned her focus and followed his direction – towards the girl who was giddily jumping at receiving tons of candies into her basket, the kid version of Phantom Lord Juvia. She was donned in Juvia’s blue winter coat, a teru-teru bozu hanging by the clasp of her collar, and a cute Juvia hat merchandise sitting neatly atop her little head.

Juvia felt a pang in her heart. It was her in the rolled hairstyle the water mage got rid of to forget about that version of her. As the little girl skipped down back to the main road, Juvia felt sorry for the little girl. No child should model after her. Back then, she wasn’t her best self. She was strong yet lonely. Isolated by her own rain. Physically attractive yet gloomy that warmth and fun were foreign concepts to her. A smile, a true warm smile, had never even touched her lips. Simply, ugly. If she could only keep that image to herself and tuck it away where no one else could find it, she would have done so.

The Juvia of the present, the Juvia after joining Fairy Tail, after finally being accepted and loved for who she was and who she was not, was unquestionably the best version of herself yet.

But that twinge was pushed away by the slight curve of Gray’s lips. Warm. Affectionate. Proud. He was still looking at that little girl, at kid Phantom Lord Juvia, with eyes full of interest. Never left her figure as she turned around and hollered at the other two girls on the walkway. Her other two friends looked like shrunken versions of other Fairy Tail members, slowed down by their argument about who collected more candies between them.

“There’s Erza and Mira-chan too.” Gray chuckled. “Brings me back.”

Juvia forgot all about her own thinking, dumbfounded by the look on Gray’s face. Even when the curve on his lips was subtle it was also telling. Because Gray could picture so clearly how the actual Erza and Mira-chan, when they were at the same age as those kids, would squabble over the smallest and silliest things. Much like the kids rounding up their group of three with Juvia-chan. His mind flew to that rare moment when all the kids in the guild were huddled up together in an unusually peaceful group waiting out the night. Simply remembering pulled the corners of his mouth into a small smile – not wistful, not longing, just… content.

Before he even thought of it, Gray was already starting on his feet, with Juvia following closely behind and then, naturally, fell beside him. Stepping into the same stride, the same pace as his. Juvia had caught up to him again, naturally. It had been like that between them for years now. Words have become so moot and inadequate. It was as if they were operating on feelings alone. Like it was the only way they could clearly and completely convey their inner thoughts. And so, with no invitation required, Gray and Juvia explored the neighborhood, feasting their eyes at the sight of scattered children in all sorts, shapes and colors of costumes.

The children walked up to houses. Their eyes shone at the treats dropped inside their baskets. Some ran out screaming in terror, receiving childish and mean scares instead of sweet treats. Others gleefully skipped along the side of the road while peeking inside each other’s loots. The two Fairy Tail mages, however, glowed in pride at the insinuation that the kids put Fairy Tail in such high regard to dress up like them, as members of the strongest guild in the whole of Fiore.

Wasn’t it that imitation was the highest form of flattery?

Out of nowhere, Gray and Juvia started a contest of whoever could spot and recognize Fairy Tail look-alikes more. They discreetly point the children to each other – finding a little Lucy with a mermaid Aquarius who can walk on foot in this version, or the entire Lightning God Tribe whose version of Laxus put on some balloons in place of the original’s muscles.

They spotted another Juvia, this one much younger than the first one they saw earlier, around five or six years old maybe, donning polka-dotted leggings. She had a long-haired older boy in her tail, who she addressed as onii-san, carrying her basket for her. It was quite a picture for Gray, the little girl scolding the older kid, who both Gray and Juvia agreed resembled an Iron Dragon Slayer. At least, even in make-belief, Gray got to see Gajeel being ordered around.

They strolled deeper into the neighborhood and found out that the wizard costumes were not limited to Fairy Tail mages. Gray even flinched at a spitting image of a young but much more handsome (in Gray’s biased opinion) Lyon Vastia. But Juvia noted his mood became even livelier when they met the Lyon impersonator, despite Gray-sama’s act and words of displeasure. At that, Juvia hid a chuckle behind her hand, which Gray noticed.

They hadn't walked that far from where they met and were greeted by a polite version of the fire dragon slayer, when Juvia noticed Gray’s mood turn sullen, even if he tried to hide it with a small but dry grin. She ha dan inkling why. They must have seen ten or twenty versions of Natsu but not a single one of the ice-make mage.

Even Juvia wasn’t happy about that.

“Gray-sama…”

“You want to go back?” He jumped in, not liking the way she looked and sounded worried.

Gray already knew what she was about to say. But it seemed he’d rather not talk about it. Respecting his feelings, the water-mage simply returned his smile, hers understanding and much more genuine than his forced one.

“If Gray-sama prefers.”

“Alright then.”

They turned around, about to take the path back to where they started when something round and hard hit Gray right at the stomach.

“Sorry, Oji-san!”

A small boy bumped into him with a force enough to sway Gray but not to make him lose his balance. He first checked that his basket of candies was intact before the little boy with messy black hair beamed up at him, his smile was pulled so wide that his eyes were almost shut. Cheeks all puffed and flushed and chubby and cute.

He probably got away with anything armed with that smile.

“Greige?!”

But like the other kids his age, the boy quickly abandoned the stranger he bumped into and caught up with his friends.

“Wait for me!”

Gray quickly spun around. A seed of hope sprouted within him, urging his feet to move. He wanted to follow the kid and confirm his suspicion but his own logic stopped him, rooting him in his spot. That would have been impossible. How would Greige cross over Earthland? That boy might have been wearing a zipped-up coat with fluffy collar, the same one Gray remembered Greige of Edolas was wearing, but how could he cross over to their world? Impossible.

Hope had sprouted into longing.

“Greige?”

Juvia’s confusion and Gray’s sudden realization that Juvia was still completely unaware of their child’s existence in another world, pulled him out of his reverie.

“Um… I said ‘engage’.” He quickly lied, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks despite the cold October breeze blowing at them. “I thought he was an enemy or somethin’.” Yet even to him, he wasn’t that convincing.

But how was he supposed to tell Juvia he saw a kid who could pass as a doppelganger of the son they would have in the future but who was already existing as the child of Gray Surge and Juvia, a version of them who were already married and lived and breathed in Edolas?

If Juvia knew about their Edolas counterparts, she would sulk all week and demand that they too get married and make a baby. They weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. They haven’t even kissed! Through no fault of Juvia, of course. Even though she had given her consent to it in no limited terms, Gray just didn’t… he just wasn’t… confident enough.

“Let’s go back, Juvia.”

“Oh, okay.”

He wounded a firm arm around Juvia’s shoulder and secured her at his side to stop the water-mage from looking back at the boy who reminded Gray of his future son. He chanced a last glance at him though and decided his hair was too spiky and a shade lighter than the boy in his memory. He was too tall and too animated to be his prim and proper little Greige.

His mind was probably playing tricks on him.

“Greige.” Juvia tested the name on her tongue. She liked the sound of it, she told Gray, making the man sweat a little.

“H-h-hey Juvia, I told you that’s not what I said.”

“He looked a little bit like Gray-sama, didn’t he?”

Gray couldn’t seem to understand, or rather that he couldn’t believe how Juvia’s soft eyes, that loving gaze that seemed to be only directed at him, had always been a source of comfort. He couldn’t at all wrap his head around the phenomenon of her smile shining so bright to the point that it was blinding, yet he was incapable of looking away.

“You think so?”

She just made a sound, a cute little hmm, eyes now glistening with that gentle mix of pride and joy. Gray couldn’t even fathom how Juvia could grow even more beautiful each day.

Gray glanced back at the boy reuniting with his friends, looking for his own qualities in him. Maybe his dark, unruly hair could be attributed to the ice-mage but the little boy was wrapped in a winter coat, and Gray was known for unwrapping himself from any clothing.

No harm in imaging it though, that maybe the little stranger was copying Gray.

He wasn’t.

Gray wasn’t imagining it when the boy with unruly hair pulled his elbows back to form some sort of hand stance. He definitely did not need to humor himself when he heard the kid say “ice-make…” and pretended like magic power was coming out of his open palms and attacked his friends.

Maybe if Gray got over himself…

“Juvia… are you cold?”

“Hmm?”

And step out of that darkness that was holding him back.

“My place…”

Then maybe…

“… is nearby.”

He didn’t need to imagine anything anymore.

“Yes, Gray-sama.”

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia fanfiction #fairytail #fairytail fanfiction #be-dazzled #gruvia halloween

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soberscientistlife · 5 months

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Louisa Jenkins smoking a cigarette as the police try to question her at a protest in 1957.⁣

—Louise Jenkins Meriwether, a novelist, essayist, journalist and social activist, was the only daughter of Marion Lloyd Jenkins and his wife, Julia. Meriwether was born May 8, 1923 in Haverstraw, New York to parents who were from South Carolina where her father worked as a painter and a bricklayer and her mother worked as a domestic.

After the stock market crash of October 24, 1929, Louise’s family migrated from Haverstraw to New York City. They moved to Brooklyn first, and later to Harlem. The third of five children, Louise grew up in the decade of the Great Depression, a time that would deeply affect her young life and ultimately influence her as a writer.

Despite her family’s financial plight, Louise Jenkins attended Public School 81 in Harlem and graduated from Central Commercial High School in downtown Manhattan. In the 1950’s, she received a B.A. degree in English from New York University before meeting and marrying Angelo Meriwether, a Los Angeles teacher. Although this marriage and a later marriage to Earle Howe ended in divorce, Louise continues to use the Meriwether name. In 1965, Louise earned an M.A. degree in journalism from the University of California at Los Angeles.

Meriwether was hired by Universal Studios in the 1950’s to became the first black story analyst in Hollywood’s history. Beginning in the early 1960’s, Meriwether also wrote and published articles in the Los Angeles Sentinel on African Americans such as opera singer Grace Bumbry, Attorney Audrey Boswell, and Los Angeles jurist, Judge Vaino Spencer. In 1967, Meriwether joined the Watts Writers’ Workshop (a group created in response to the Watts Riot of 1965) and worked as a staff member of that project.

Her first book, Daddy Was a Number Runner, a fictional account of the economic devastation of Harlem in the Great Depression, appeared in 1970 as the first novel to emerge from the Watts Writers’ Workshop. It received favorable reviews from authors James Baldwin and Paule Marshall. Daddy Was a Number Runner, is a fictional account of the historical and sociological devastation of the economic Depression on Harlem residents.

Meriwether followed with the publication of three historical biographies for children on civil war hero Robert Smalls (1971), pioneer heart surgeon, Dr. Daniel Hale Williams (1972) and civil rights activist Rosa Parks (1973). In addition to numerous short stories, Meriwether published novels, Fragments of the Ark (1994) and Shadow Dancing (2000). Louise Meriwether has taught creative writing at Sarah Lawrence College and the University of Houston. She is a member of the Harlem Writers Guild.

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kogji · 27 days

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Christopher Nolan clears up my confusions about tsctir

A while back I wrote two posts about tsctir and its writers’ witless and unworkable plan for protection that I found insultive. I received some comments from fans that made me wonder how they could ignore the most obvious facts. It sounded like self-deception or forced justification to me. I, honestly, couldn't get it out of my mind how they can't see such transparent things. I needed to know the reason behind it.

I mean;

>>> Of course, one who walks on a dangerous path would keep the existence of his loved ones a secret so as not to disrupt their peaceful lives.

>>> Of course, family is precious in all cultures and they can and will be used against you, especially if you are on bad terms. The former Duchess of Sussex and Prince Harry are solid evidence for this.

>>> Of course, throughout history, the lower class has been neglected, damaged and suffered the most.

>>> Of course, a doting person uses all his resources to assure his family is in the best condition.

>>> Of course, someone who is kidnapped, assaulted, hospitalized, and limping to dungeons cannot be considered protected.

I could go on and on, but the fans don't notice these flaws in story at all. And this was very strange and incomprehensible to me. How can hundreds of thousands of people close their eyes on something at the same time? That's how Christopher Nolan came to my aid.

His acclaimed movie The Prestige, an adaptation of the novel by Christopher Priest, is one of my favorites. The story is about the long-term feud between two magicians. Somewhere in the movie, the main character's mentor says this about spectators of magic trick:

"Now you're looking for the secret. But you won't find it because of course, you're not really looking. You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled."

Audiences always just want to be entertained. Having a critical view and looking for logic spoils the fun. You have to fall in the trap that the writer has prepared for you so that you can have a good time and enjoy. What is good about Christmas if children don't believe in Santa Claus?

The tsctir writers knew that the moment they declared Yoohyun as an devoted brother, the fans would only shed tears and praise him. No one questions the avoidable dangers and tortures that Yoohyun inflicts on Yoojin for almost a decade. No one thinks about him not using his recourses to protect his family. Any harm to Yoojin and the guild would never be able to restore its image but no one questions why a professional business man would ridicule Yoojin to flatter his boss instead of handling him as a threat to the future of their guild. No. It's no fun too look, think and see the truth.

Attack on Titan fans consider Eren who killed 80% of humanity and destroyed cities, a hero. Why wouldn't tsctir fans consider Yoohyun who made Yoojin's life a living hell, a devoted brother?

Writing about tsctir and getting to know the opinions of fans and trying to make sense of them was very educational for me. I guess I should read The Art of Thinking Clearly book by Rolf Dobelli again.

#the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #tsctir #my s class hunters #han yoojin #han yoohyun

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 8 months

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Hey 👋 Of you are in the mood for some headcanons, how about the sdv villagers reacting to a farmer that's constantly with at least 3 Junimos? The idea came to me after seeing the Easter egg in the menu. Maybe the Farmer telling them that the Junimos were the ones who fixed the community center and everything else? Thank you! Have a nice day! :D

Heya 👋 sorry for a long reply. Hope you like it and thanka fo asking ❤️

This post is long, be aware:

The trip to visit Mullner was unusual at the very least in that Junimos stealthily got into Farmer's backpack himself. All Farmer wanted to do was wish Alex a happy birthday, but the confused athlete doesn't understand why apples are rolling from his room into the living room. No loud surprised voice in the living room either, as George didn't even pay attention to Junimos, engrossed in watching his TV program. And only Grandma Evelyn almost dropped the bag of flour in the kitchen, whispering to herself, "So Farmer's Grandpa was telling her the truth..." She'd thought her childhood friend was joking about these tales, but now... Oh, dear.

Elliott saw some apples fall from the Farmer's basket, which they were holding in their hands, and he kindly wanted to offer to help the Farmer pick them up. But no sooner had the red-haired writer opened his mouth than he saw those very apples Rolling toward the forest. And if there was a slope, he would understand, but this? "Oh, that's Junimos." Pardon, who?

"Heh, funny creatures" If the Farmer thinks that after meeting with merpeople, mermaids, and giant sea monsters that almost destroyed Willy's boat and himself, he will be surprised by the harmless and cheerful forest creatures, then think again. For old sailor it's another story that you can tell the youth!

Pierre was unable to utter anything when he was buying whole cases of apples from the Farmer to resell, and from one case 5 apples with blinking eyes rolled out and disappeared from the store. Well, at least he didn't need to pay for those apples. What?

Caroline show a more emotional reaction than her husband, when she saw Junimo. What are these magical creatures? Magic? Was she supposed to go to him again to find out if these creatures were dangerous or not? To whom? Ah nothing, it doesn't matter.

Wow! What smooth movements these robots have! They look like normal cute toys. M? Not toys? Don't say that, Maru recognizes a well-made robot everywhere. What interesting models, she already wants to ask who designed them, and- ?????? Did she get it right, they disappeared? "Told ya they weren't robots." Maru was speechless.

In the carpentry shop, coughing and smoke is everywhere. Of course there is! Robin is once again berating Demetrius for almost burning down the lab again because of her beloved husband's experiments. It's all smoke and smells like burning! What if Sabby and Maru were in danger of suffocating? She told them to be careful! Oh, hey Farmer, now's not a good tim- are those apples with eyes on their shoulders?... Yep, looks like they've both had smoke inhalation, so the first hallucinations are showing up. Ok, everybody outside, now!

Like a noble dog, which courageously endures loud and pulling the tail capricious children, Marlon stands and also endures "children" in the form of forest spirits, who jump on his head, pull his cloak or play around him. And he will look at the Farmer judgmentally with that look of "go and quiet your children". Marlon has seen a lot of monsters and wonders in his life, so he's not too surprised by Junimos.

Gil is not bothered by apple-like spirits, because like his one-eyed friend, he has seen a lot. So he will go on sleeping, ignoring the noise and clamor. Seriously, even if a storm formed within the Guild, Gil wouldn't be woken up by it.

Well, Rasmodius is glad that the Farmer was able to forge such a strong connection with the forest spirits (even better than himself, unbelievable). He is still studying Junimo, so the wizard can ask the Farmer to bring the spirits here so he can ask Junimos some questions (better than forcibly teleport them to his tower).

Yeah yeah, of course... The tiny magic people did it all. And the next day, they'll clean up Pam's trailer and leave her a full can of cold beer. Kiddo, the hell are you telling her this crap? What, you think she was born yesterday to believe in these stupid fairy tales?

Nothing unusual, just Kent coming home with Jodi after grocery shopping at Pierre's. Nothing unusual, just a Farmer walking towards them who greeted them in a friendly manner. Nothing unusual, just 5 strange apples with eyes, arms and legs following the Farmer in formation. Nothing unusual... Even the fact that Jodi fainted and now Kent is bringing his dearest wife to her senses, he is no longer surprised by anything. Just 🗿 face.

Oh, what's that? The Farmer has something to show her? Okay, Penny will take her mind off the book for a minute. Is that an apple? For her? Thank you so much Farmer ❤️ They're so kind to the young teacher, she just got hungry and... Wait, why are there eyes glued on the apple?... They're blinked!? *Gasp!* Well done Farmer, the poor teacher is now lying passed out on the grass.

Harvey.exe stopped working. When Farmer told him about Junimo, the doctor first thought that Farmer had a sunstroke and was about to give them first aid. But when the apple-like creatures came out of Farmer's backpack and began to study Harvey with curiosity, the stroke had already hit him. Where are his sedatives?

It seems that Shane had gotten so used to Farmer's oddities all along that he wasn't confused at all about them squatting outside Marnie's Ranch and talking to.... apples. It's just another Tuesday for him now.

No one believed Jas and Vincent when they told the adults that they had seen the Farmer in company with moving magic apples. They, like little detectives, will now follow the unusual Farmer until they learn their secret (or until kid's parents call them home because it's dinner time!).

But the one who gets to investigate late into the night is Abigail, who believed the kids' stories and took Sam and Sebastian along as partners on a scouting mission. What will be their surprise when they follow the Farmer to the woods and see small creatures emerge from the thick foliage of a bush. Gnomes, dwarfs? What are they? Abigail will scare the Junimos away with her excitement and they will hide in the same bush. The Farmer, too, almost dies of fright and will want to climb into the bush themselves, but Abby, Sam and Sebby won't let them. Now begins the interrogation and initiation of the famous A.S.S. trio into the secrets of the no less famous Farmer.

Lewis was sincerely grateful that the Farmer, the hero of Stardew Valley, was able to restore the Community Center and return Pelican Town to its former glory. But he still doesn't understand why the Farmer doesn't want to say how they were able to restore the center, always hiding behind the fact that "some keepers of the forest helped them." Making up some fairy tales, just like their Grandpa ...

One summer morning, Leah met Farmer when she return from the lake to her home. They were carrying a woven basket of nature's gifts: mushrooms, berries, and... Oh, apples! Leah thought that the fruit of the wild forest apple trees would not ripen until early fall. Can the Farmer tell where they picked the apples? Oh, not apples? Then what are-? Huh, little eyes and little hands... Strange, she thought she was processing mushrooms when she ate them at breakfast, why would she start hallucinating... She'll be shocked when Farmer tells her she's not imagining it. Indeed, the Valley is truly full of secrets.....

Marnie warned the Farmer not to go to that strange tower. She warned, but what do we have now? Farmer with small creatures. She hope they are at least kind???? Maybe Because if they're not kind, and if they hurt Jas, then oh boy, Farmer is screwed.

Clint nearly nailed the poor Junimos with a hammer, mistaking them for rats in his blacksmith's shop. Couldn't you tell they were strange woodland creatures and not rats?! What? No, he's not surprised by the apple-like keepers of the forest, but he won't tolerate rats in his house. Clint isn't afraid of them, he just can't stand rodents.

Ah, dear friend, and in the company of Junimo! That's perfect. Linus was just telling Leo about the various spirits of the worlds, and the conversation turned to the keepers of the forest, Junimos. And now he can even introduce them to Leo. Although, Leo forgot about his mentor's lecture and started playing with Junimo together with the parrots. Linus sighed and decided that his student really needed some break from studying.

"Ewww! Rats!" Haley screamed at the whole house and cowardly climbed onto the sofa, mistaking the frightened Junimos for a horde of rodents. Haley dear, rodents can't be green, red, and apple-shaped. Her sister Emily, to be honest, would rather have rats than...what is this exactly? She, not realizing that what was near the feet of the Farmer, took her sign of Yoba, and said something (drive away evil spirits). Emily, not you too... They are harmless creatures!

Gus's heart almost jumped out of his chest when he took a knife and wanted to cut an apple for dessert in the Saloon, and the apple.... squeaked and rolled across the bar towards the Farmer. So... what do toy expect from Gus? Serve customers, even apple-like customers? What do they eat?

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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Linkty Dumpty

I was supposed to be on vacation, and while I didn’t do any blogging for a month, that didn’t mean that I stopped looking at my distraction rectangle and making a list of things I wanted to write about. Consequentially, the link backlog is massive, so it’s time to declare bankruptcy with another linkdump:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

[Image ID: John Holbo’s ‘trolley problem’ art, a repeating pattern of trolleys, tracks, people on tracks, and people standing at track switches]++

Let’s kick things off with a little graphic whimsy. You’ve doubtless seen the endless Trolley Problem memes, working from the same crude line drawings? Well, philosopher John Holbo got tired of that artwork, and he whomped up a fantastic alternative, which you can get as a poster, duvet, sticker, tee, etc:

https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/145078097

The trolley problem has been with us since 1967, but it’s enjoying a renaissance thanks to the insistence of “AI” weirdos that it is very relevant to our AI debate. A few years back, you could impress uninformed people by dropping the Trolley Problem into a discussion:

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/10/25/mercedes-weird-trolley-problem-announcement-continues-dumb-debate-about-self-driving-cars/

Amazingly, the “AI” debate has only gotten more tedious since the middle of the past decade. But every now and again, someone gets a stochastic parrot to do something genuinely delightful, like the Jolly Roger Telephone Company, who sell chatbots that will pretend to be tantalyzingly confused marks in order to tie up telemarketers and waste their time:

https://jollyrogertelephone.com/

Jolly Roger sells different personas: “Whitebeard” is a confused senior who keeps asking the caller’s name, drops nonsequiturs into the conversation, and can’t remember how many credit-cards he has. “Salty Sally” is a single mom with a houseful of screaming, demanding children who keep distracting her every time the con artist is on the verge of getting her to give up compromising data. “Whiskey Jack” is drunk:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/people-hire-phone-bots-to-torture-telemarketers-2dbb8457

The bots take a couple minutes to get the sense of the conversation going. During that initial lag, they have a bunch of stock responses like “there’s a bee on my arm, but keep going,” or grunts like “huh,” and “uh-huh.” The bots can keep telemarketers and scammers on the line for quite a long time. Scambaiting is an old and honorable vocation, and it’s good that it has received a massive productivity gain from automation. This is the AI Dividend I dream of.

The less-fun AI debate is the one over artists’ rights and tech. I am foresquare for the artists here, but I think that the preferred solutions (like creating a new copyright over the right to train a model with your work) will not lead to the hoped-for outcome. As with other copyright expansions — 40 years’ worth of them now — this right will be immediately transferred to the highly concentrated media sector, who will simply amend their standard, non-negotiable contracting terms to require that “training rights” be irrevocably assigned to them as a condition of working.

The real solution isn’t to treat artists as atomic individuals — LLCs with an MFA — who bargain, business-to-business, with corporations. Rather, the solutions are in collective power, like unions. You’ve probably heard about the SAG-AFTRA actors’ strike, in which creative workers are bargaining as a group to demand fair treatment in an age of generative models. SAG-AFTRA president Fran Drescher’s speech announcing the strike made me want to stand up and salute:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4SAPOX7R5M

The actors’ strike is historic: it marks the first time actors have struck since 2000, and it’s the first time actors and writers have co-struck since 1960. Of course, writers in the Writers Guild of America (West and East) have been picketing since since April, and one of their best spokespeople has been Adam Conover, a WGA board member who serves on the negotiating committee. Conover is best known for his stellar Adam Ruins Everything comedy-explainer TV show, which pioneered a technique for breaking down complex forms of corporate fuckery and making you laugh while he does it. Small wonder that he’s been so effective at conveying the strike issues while he pickets.

Writing for Jacobin, Alex N Press profiles Conover and interviews him about the strike, under the excellent headline, “Adam Pickets Everything.” Conover is characteristically funny, smart, and incisive — do read:

https://jacobin.com/2023/07/adam-conover-wga-strike

Of course, not everyone in Hollywood is striking. In late June, the DGA accepted a studio deal with an anemic 41% vote turnout:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/6/26/23773926/dga-amptp-new-deal-strike

They probably shouldn’t have. In this interview with The American Prospect’s Peter Hong, the brilliant documentary director Amy Ziering breaks down how Netflix and the other streamers have rugged documentarians in a classic enshittification ploy that lured in filmmakers, extracted everything they had, and then discarded the husks:

https://prospect.org/culture/2023-06-21-drowned-in-the-stream/

Now, the streaming cartel stands poised to all but kill off documentary filmmaking. Pressured by Wall Street to drive high returns, they’ve become ultraconservative in their editorial decisions, making programs and films that are as similar as possible to existing successes, that are unchallenging, and that are cheap. We’ve gone directly from a golden age of docs to a dark age.

In a time of monopolies, it’s tempting to form countermonopolies to keep them in check. Yesterday, I wrote about why the FTC and Lina Khan were right to try to block the Microsoft/Activision merger, and I heard from a lot of people saying this merger was the only way to check Sony’s reign of terror over video games:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

But replacing one monopolist with another isn’t good for anyone (except the monopolists’ shareholders). If we want audiences and workers — and society — to benefit, we have to de-monopolize the sector. Last month, I published a series with EFF about how we should save the news from Big Tech:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

After that came out, the EU Observer asked me to write up version of it with direct reference to the EU, where there are a lot of (in my opinion, ill-conceived but well-intentioned) efforts to pry Big Tech’s boot off the news media’s face. I’m really happy with how it came out, and the header graphic is awesome:

https://euobserver.com/opinion/157187

De-monopolizing tech has become my life’s work, both because tech is foundational (tech is how we organize to fight over labor, gender and race equality, and climate justice), and because tech has all of these technical aspects, which open up new avenues for shrinking Big Tech, without waiting decades for traditional antitrust breakups to run their course (we need these too, though!).

I’ve written a book laying out a shovel-ready plan to give tech back to its users through interoperability, explaining how to make new regulations (and reform old ones), what they should say, how to enforce them, and how to detect and stop cheating. It’s called “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation” and it’s coming from Verso Books this September:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

[Image ID: The cover of the Verso Books hardcover of ‘The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation]

I just got my first copy in the mail yesterday, and it’s a gorgeous little package. The timing was great, because I spent the whole week in the studio at Skyboat Media recording the audiobook — the first audiobook of mine that I’ve narrated. It was a fantastic experience, and I’ll be launching a Kickstarter to presell the DRM-free audio and ebooks as well as hardcovers, in a couple weeks.

Though I like doing these crowdfunders, I do them because I have to. Amazon’s Audible division, the monopolist that controls >90% of the audiobook market, refuses to carry my work because it is DRM-free. When you buy a DRM-free audiobook, that means that you can play it on anyone’s app, not just Amazon’s. Every audiobook you’ve ever bought from Audible will disappear the moment you decide to break up with Amazon, which means that Amazon can absolutely screw authors and audiobook publishers because they’ve taken our customers hostage.

If you are unwise enough to pursue an MBA, you will learn a term of art for this kind of market structure: it’s a “moat,” that is, an element of the market that makes it hard for new firms to enter the market and compete with you. Warren Buffett pioneered the use of this term, and now it’s all but mandatory for anyone launching a business or new product to explain where their moat will come from.

As Dan Davies writes, these “moats” aren’t really moats in the Buffett sense. With Coke and Disney, he says, a “moat” was “the fact that nobody else could make such a great product that everyone wanted.” In other words, “making a good product,” is a great moat:

https://backofmind.substack.com/p/stuck-in-the-moat

But making a good product is a lot of work and not everyone is capable of it. Instead, “moat” now just means some form of lock in. Davies counsels us to replace “moat” with:

our subscription system and proprietary interface mean that our return on capital is protected by a strong Berlin Wall, preventing our customers from getting out to a freer society and forcing them to consume our inferior products for lack of alternative.

I really like this. It pairs well with my 2020 observation that the fight over whether “IP” is a meaningful term can be settled by recognizing that IP has a precise meaning in business: “Any policy that lets me reach beyond the walls of my firm to control the conduct of my competitors, critics and customers”:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

To see how that works in the real world, check out “The Anti-Ownership Ebook Economy,” a magisterial piece of scholarship from Sarah Lamdan, Jason M. Schultz, Michael Weinberg and Claire Woodcock:

https://www.nyuengelberg.org/outputs/the-anti-ownership-ebook-economy/

Something happened when we shifted to digital formats that created a loss of rights for readers. Pulling back the curtain on the evolution of ebooks offers some clarity to how the shift to digital left ownership behind in the analog world.

The research methodology combines both anonymous and named sources in publishing, bookselling and librarianship, as well as expert legal and economic analysis. This is an eminently readable, extremely smart, and really useful contribution to the scholarship on how “IP” (in the modern sense) has transformed books from something you own to something that you can never own.

The truth is, capitalists hate capitalism. Inevitably, the kind of person who presides over a giant corporation and wields power over millions of lives — workers, suppliers and customers — believes themselves to be uniquely and supremely qualified to be a wise dictator. For this kind of person, competition is “wasteful” and distracts them from the important business of making everyone’s life better by handing down unilateral — but wise and clever — edits. Think of Peter Thiel’s maxim, “competition is for losers.”

That’s why giant companies love to merge with each other, and buy out nascent competitors. By rolling up the power to decide how you and I and everyone else live our lives, these executives ensure that they can help us little people live the best lives possible. The traditional role of antitrust enforcement is to prevent this from happening, countering the delusions of would-be life-tenured autocrats of trade with public accountability and enforcement:

https://marker.medium.com/we-should-not-endure-a-king-dfef34628153

Of course, for 40 years, we’ve had neoliberal, Reaganomics-poisoned antitrust, where monopolies are celebrated as “efficient” and their leaders exalted as geniuses whose commercial empires are evidence of merit, not savagery. That era is, thankfully, coming to an end, and not a moment too soon.

Leading the fight is the aforementioned FTC chair Lina Khan, who is taking huge swings at even bigger mergers. But the EU is no slouch in this department: they’re challenging the Adobe/Figma merger, a $20b transaction that is obviously and solely designed to recapture customers who left Adobe because they didn’t want to struggle under its yoke any longer:

https://gizmodo.com/adobe-figma-acquisition-likely-to-face-eu-investigation-1850555562

For autocrats of trade, this is an intolerable act of disloyalty. We owe them our fealty and subservience, because they are self-evidently better at understanding what we need than we could ever be. This unwarranted self-confidence from the ordinary mediocrities who end up running giant tech companies gets them into a whole lot of hot water.

One keen observer of the mind-palaces that tech leaders trap themselves in is Anil Dash, who describes the conspiratorial, far-right turn of the most powerful men (almost all men!) in Silicon Valley in a piece called “‘VC Qanon’ and the radicalization of the tech tycoons”:

https://www.anildash.com/2023/07/07/vc-qanon/

Dash builds on an editorial he published in Feb, “The tech tycoon martyrdom charade,” which explores the sense of victimhood the most powerful, wealthiest people in the Valley project:

https://www.anildash.com/2023/02/27/tycoon-martyrdom-charade/

These dudes are prisoners of their Great Man myth, and leads them badly astray. And while all of us are prone to lapses in judgment and discernment, Dash makes the case that tech leaders are especially prone to it:

Nobody becomes a billionaire by accident. You have to have wanted that level of power, control and wealth more than you wanted anything else in your life. They all sacrifice family, relationships, stability, community, connection, and belonging in service of keeping score on a scale that actually yields no additional real-world benefits on the path from that first $100 million to the tens of billions.

This makes billionaires “a cohort that is, counterintutively, very easily manipulated.” What’s more, they’re all master manipulators, and they all hang out with each other, which means that when a conspiratorial belief takes root in one billionaire’s brain, it spreads to the rest of them like wildfire.

Then, billionaires “push each other further and further into extreme ideas because their entire careers have been predicated on the idea that they’re genius outliers who can see things others can’t, and that their wealth is a reward for that imagined merit.”

They live in privileged bubbles, which insulates them from disconfirming evidence — ironic, given how many of these bros think they are wise senators in the agora.

There are examples of billionaires’ folly all around us today, of course. Take privacy: the idea that we can — we should — we must — spy on everyone, all the time, in every way, to eke out tiny gains in ad performance is objectively batshit. And yet, wealthy people decreed this should be so, and it was, and made them far richer.

Leaked data from Microsoft’s Xandr ad-targeting database reveals how the commercial surveillance delusion led us to a bizarre and terrible place, as reported on by The Markup:

https://themarkup.org/privacy/2023/06/08/from-heavy-purchasers-of-pregnancy-tests-to-the-depression-prone-we-found-650000-ways-advertisers-label-you

The Markup’s report lets you plumb 650,000 targeting categories, searching by keyword or loading random sets, 20 at a time. Do you want to target gambling addicts, people taking depression meds or Jews? Xandr’s got you covered. What could possibly go wrong?

The Xandr files come from German security researcher Wolfie Christl from Cracked Labs. Christi is a European, and he’s working with the German digital rights group Netzpolitik to get the EU to scrutinize all the ways that Xandr is flouting EU privacy laws.

Billionaires’ big ideas lead us astray in more tangible ways, of course. Writing in The Conversation, John Quiggin asks us to take a hard look at the much ballyhooed (and expensively ballyhooed) “nuclear renaissance”:

https://theconversation.com/dutton-wants-australia-to-join-the-nuclear-renaissance-but-this-dream-has-failed-before-209584

Despite the rhetoric, nukes aren’t cheap, and they aren’t coming back. Georgia’s new nuclear power is behind schedule and over budget, but it’s still better off than South Carolina’s nukes, which were so over budget that they were abandoned in 2017. France’s nuke is a decade behind schedule. Finland’s opened this year — 14 years late. The UK’s Hinkley Point C reactor is massively behind schedule and over budget (and when it’s done, it will be owned by the French government!).

China’s nuclear success story also doesn’t hold up to scrutiny — they’ve brought 50GW of nukes online, sure, but they’re building 95–120GW of solar every year.

Solar is the clear winner here, along with other renewables, which are plummeting in cost (while nukes soar) and are accelerating in deployments (while nukes are plagued with ever-worsening delays).

This is the second nuclear renaissance — the last one, 20 years ago, was a bust, and that was before renewables got cheap, reliable and easy to manufacture and deploy. You’ll hear fairy-tales about how the early 2000s bust was caused by political headwinds, but that’s simply untrue: there were almost no anti-nuke marches then, and governments were scrambling to figure out low-carbon alternatives to fossil fuels (this was before the latest round of fossil fuel sabotage).

The current renaissance is also doomed. Yes, new reactors are smaller and safer and won’t have the problems intrinsic to all megaprojects, but designs like VOYGR have virtually no signed deals. Even if they do get built, their capacity will be dwarfed by renewables — a Gen III nuke will generate 710MW of power. Globally, we add that much solar every single day.

And solar power is cheap. Even after US subsidies, a Gen III reactor would charge A$132/MWh — current prices are as low as A$64-$114/MWh.

Nukes are getting a charm offensive because wealthy people are investing in hype as a way of reaping profits — not as a way of generating safe, cheap, reliable energy.

Here in the latest stage of capitalism, value and profit are fully decoupled. Monopolists are shifting more and more value from suppliers and customers to their shareholders every day. And when the customer is the government, the depravity knows no bounds. In Responsible Statecraft, Connor Echols describes how military contractors like Boeing are able to bill the Pentagon $52,000 for a trash can:

https://responsiblestatecraft.org/2023/06/20/the-pentagons-52000-trash-can/

Military Beltway Bandits are nothing new, of course, but they’ve gotten far more virulent since the Obama era, when Obama’s DoD demanded that the primary contractors merge to a bare handful of giant firms, in the name of “efficiency.” As David Dayen writes in his must-read 2020 book Monopolized, this opened the door to a new kind of predator:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

The Obama defense rollups were quickly followed by another wave of rollups, these ones driven by Private Equity firms who cataloged which subcontractors were “sole suppliers” of components used by the big guys. These companies were all acquired by PE funds, who then lowered the price of their products, selling them below cost.

This maximized the use of those parts in weapons and aircraft sold by primary contractors like Boeing, which created a durable, long-lasting demand for fresh parts for DoD maintenance of its materiel. PE-owned suppliers hits Uncle Sucker with multi-thousand-percent markups for these parts, which have now wormed their way into every corner of the US arsenal.

Yes, this is infuriating as hell, but it’s also so grotesquely wrong that it’s impossible to defend, as we see in this hilarious clip of Rep Katie Porter grilling witnesses on US military waste:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJhf6l1nB9A

Porter pulls out the best version yet of her infamous white-board and makes her witnesses play defense ripoff Jepoardy!, providing answers to a series of indefensible practices.

It’s sure nice when our government does something for us, isn’t it? We absolutely can have nice things, and we’re about to get them. The Infrastructure Bill contains $42B in subsidies for fiber rollouts across the country, which will be given to states to spend. Ars Technica’s Jon Brodkin breaks down the state-by-state spending:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2023/06/us-allocates-42b-in-broadband-funding-find-out-how-much-your-state-will-get/

Texas will get $3.31B, California will get $1.86B, and 17 other states will get $1B or more. As the White House announcement put it, “High-speed Internet is no longer a luxury.”

To understand how radical this is, you need to know that for decades, the cable and telco sector has grabbed billions in subsidies for rural and underserved communities, and then either stole the money outright, or wasted it building copper networks that run at a fraction of a percent of fiber speeds.

This is how America — the birthplace of the internet — ended up with some of the world’s slowest, most expensive broadband, even after handing out tens of billions of dollars in subsidies. Those subsidies were gobbled up by greedy, awful phone companies — these ones must be spent wisely, on long-lasting, long-overdue fiber infrastructure.

That’s a good note to end on, but I’ve got an even better one: birds in the Netherlands are tearing apart anti-bird strips and using them to build their nests. Wonderful creatures 1, hostile architecture, 0. Nature is healing:

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2023/jul/11/crows-and-magpies-show-their-metal-by-using-anti-bird-spikes-to-build-nests

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/15/in-the-dumps/#what-vacation

Next Tues, Jul 18, I'm hosting the first Clarion Summer Write-In Series, an hour-long, free drop-in group writing and discussion session. It's in support of the Clarion SF/F writing workshop's fundraiser to offer tuition support to students:

https://mailchi.mp/theclarionfoundation/clarion-write-ins

[Image iD: A dump-truck, dumping out a load of gravel. A caricature of Humpty Dumpty clings to its lip, restrained by a group of straining, Lilliputian men.]

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silmarillionwritersguild-art · 1 year

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"Turin, Nienor & Glaurung" art by @ruslanshapolov Ruslan has illustrated the whole Silmarillion in gorgeous style and hopes to publish them in a book - the rest of the illustrations are well worth the browse!

Part 3 concludes this indepth biography of Túrin Turambar by firstamazon

Published by the @silmarillionwritersguild.

#silmarillion writers guild #swg art #swg #tolkien fanart #tolkien fandom #tolkien fanworks #silmarillion fanart #character bio #turin #turin turambar #children of hurin #nienor #glaurung #character biography #tolkien meta #silmarillion meta

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contentment-of-cats · 7 months

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I'll say it again. Andor is the best Star Wars show.

And that's because they didn't let Dave Filoni anywhere near it.

The show is called 'Ahsoka' but is actually an unaired season of Rebels. It ought to have been called 'attempted massive retcon at unwise forward speed' or 'Sabine has abandonment issues and makes poor decisions.' There are good scenes (possibly from another show, which one is anyone's guess) strung together with tired plot devices. Thrawn was chucked into this mess because there was no other way to move the plot. I did dig on some of the details like the signs of age and hard living and the obvious condition of the Chimaera. Other than that - pfft.

Turning to Thrawn - I am an unabashed fan of the Zahn-authored 2017 Trilogy and the HTTE trilogy (except the ending). He is complex neither all good or all evil. He is an antagonist and protagonist at once. Someone to root for and also against. Did he contrive his exile to join the Empire and possibly take it over in order to protect his people? It's possible. I don't think we'll ever find out, though. That being said, I don't think we're going to get much more from two more episodes.

One of my friends said that Filoni writes for children's shows, and it's true. The characters are almost cartoonish, not understandable as adults, but as kids understand adults to be. Perhaps I am expecting too much from an eight-episode MCU-kin show, but there was time to develop Sabine, or FFS Ahsoka (you know, the protagonist?), to fill in whatever has gone on in the past nine years since the Battle of Yavin, five years after Endor. For Sabine and Ezra, there should have been more feeling in that scene than the swell of the music.

A lot of the blame rests with Disney, and the paranoia-controlled process to stamp out leaks at all costs. There is a continuity to writing a script, working out the story boards, reading the script, and then shooting that is entirely lacking in franchise-oriented product. Franchise oriented product is formulated to sell merch and streaming subscriptions, and to drive bodies into theme parks. It's marketable.

The writers' and actors' guild strikes are ongoing. I'm content to wait - writers and actors have been getting screwed, fucked, and buttered without mercy for years. There is a new intensity to the talks as the studios start to sweat.

Final note: I love Thrawn, but the ageism of a vocal part of the fandom makes me want to still be around when these people hit 50. Age and illness and injury HAPPEN. Our bodies do not work as well when joints break down, we get hurt, or sick. Even when he regain functionality, it doesn't all come back. Even when our lives are saved, there are still sequelae. It's made me think less of some folks.

#thrawn #ahsoka

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shewhoworshipscarlin · 2 months

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Fredi Washington

Fredericka Carolyn "Fredi" Washington (December 23, 1903 – June 28, 1994) was an American stage and film actress, civil rights activist, performer, and writer. Washington was of African American descent. She was one of the first Black Americans to gain recognition for film and stage work in the 1920s and 1930s. Washington was active in the Harlem Renaissance, her best known role being Peola in the 1934 film version of Imitation of Life, where she plays a young light-skinned Black woman who decides to pass as white. Her last film role was in One Mile from Heaven (1937), after which she left Hollywood and returned to New York to work in theatre and civil rights activism.

Fredi Washington was born in 1903 in Savannah, Georgia, to Robert T. Washington, a postal worker, and Harriet "Hattie" Walker Ward, a dancer. Both were of African American and European ancestry. Washington was the second of their five children. Her mother died when Fredi was 11 years old. As the oldest girl in her family, she helped raise her younger siblings, Isabel, Rosebud, and Robert, with the help of their grandmother. After their mother's death, Fredi and her sister Isabel were sent to the St. Elizabeth's Convent School for Colored Girls in Cornwells Heights, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

While still in school in Philadelphia, Washington's family moved north to Harlem, New York. Washington graduated from Julia Richman High School in New York City.

Washington's entertainment career began in 1921 as a chorus girl in the Broadway musical Shuffle Along. She was hired by dancer Josephine Baker as a member of the "Happy Honeysuckles," a cabaret group. Baker became a friend and mentor to her. Washington's collaboration with Baker led to her being discovered by producer Lee Shubert. In 1926, she was recommended for a co-starring role on the Broadway stage with Paul Robeson in the play Black Boy. She quickly became a popular, featured dancer, and toured internationally with her dancing partner, Al Moiret.

Washington turned to acting in the late 1920s. Her first movie role was in Black and Tan (1929), in which she played a Cotton Club dancer who was dying. She acted in a small role in The Emperor Jones (1933) starring Robeson. In 1933, Washington married Lawrence Brown, the trombonist in Duke Ellington's jazz orchestra. That marriage ended in divorce. Washington also played Cab Calloway's love interest in the musical short Cab Calloway's Hi-De-Ho (1934).

Her best-known role was in the 1934 movie Imitation of Life. Washington played a young light-skinned Black woman who chose to pass as white to seek more opportunities in a society restricted by legal and social racial segregation. As Washington had visible European ancestry, the role was considered perfect for her, but it led to her being typecast by filmmakers. Moviegoers sometimes assumed from Washington's appearance—her blue-gray eyes, pale complexion, and light brown hair—that she might have passed in real life. In 1934, she said the role did not reflect her off-screen life, but "If I made Peola seem real enough to merit such statements, I consider such statements compliments and makes me feel I've done my job fairly well." She told reporters in 1949 that she identified as Black "...because I'm honest, firstly, and secondly, you don't have to be white to be good. I've spent most of my life trying to prove to those who think otherwise ... I am a Negro and I am proud of it."[7] Imitation of Life was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture, but it did not win. Years later, in 2007, Time magazine ranked it as among "The 25 Most Important Films on Race."

Washington's experiences in the film industry and theater led her to become a civil rights activist. In an effort to help other Black actors and actresses find more opportunities, in 1937 Washington co-founded the Negro Actors Guild of America, with Noble Sissle, W. C. Handy, Paul Robeson, and Ethel Waters. The organization's mission included speaking out against stereotyping and advocating for a wider range of roles. Washington served as the organization's first executive secretary. She was also heavily involved with the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, widely known as the NAACP. While working with the NAACP, Fredi fought for more representation and better treatment of Black actors in Hollywood because she was one of the few Black actors in Hollywood who had some influence with white studio executives. Aside from working with those organizations to fight for the rights of Black actors, Washington also advocated for the federal protection of Black Americans and was a lobbyist for the Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill, which the NAACP supported.

Despite receiving critical acclaim, she was unable to find much work in the Hollywood of the 1930s and 1940s; Black actresses were expected to have dark skin, and were usually typecast as maids. Directors were concerned about casting a light-skinned Black actress in a romantic role with a white leading man; the film production code prohibited suggestions of miscegenation. Hollywood directors did not offer her any romantic roles. As one modern critic explained, Fredi Washington was "...too beautiful and not dark enough to play maids, but rather too light to act in all-Black movies..."

Washington was a theater writer, and the entertainment editor for The People's Voice (1942–1948), a newspaper for African Americans founded by Adam Clayton Powell Jr., a Baptist minister and politician in New York City who was married to her sister Isabel Washington Powell. She was outspoken about racism faced by African Americans and worked closely with Walter White, then president of the NAACP, to address pressing issues facing Black people in America.

In 1952, Washington married a Stamford dentist, Hugh Anthony Bell, and moved to Greenwich, Connecticut.

Fredi Washington Bell died, aged 90, on June 28, 1994. She died from pneumonia following a series of strokes at St. Joseph Medical Center in Stamford, Connecticut.

#historical #black history month #actress

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revasserium · 8 months

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the unofficial ultimate bungo stray dogs reading list

this is mainly for myself bc i rly do want to read most if not all of these and i'm sure it's already been done by someone somewhere. but, i thought why not post it lmao; most if not all of these can be found on anna's archive, z-library, or project gutenberg! (also, consider buying from your local bookstore!) for those that are a bit harder to find, i've included links, though some are from j-stor and would require login to access.

detective agency:

osamu dazai:

no longer human (novel)

the setting sun (novel)

nakajima atsushi:

the moon over the mountain: stories (short story collection)

light, wind and dreams (short story)

fukuzawa yukichi:

an encouragement of learning (17 volume collections of writings)

all the countries of the world, for children written in verse (textbook)

yosano akiko:

kimi shinitamou koto nakare (poem)

midaregami (poetry collection)

edogawa ranpo:

the boy detectives club (book series)

japanese tales of mystery and imagination (short story collection)

the early cases of akechi kogoro (novel)

kunikida doppo:

river mist and other stories (short story collection)

izumi kyouka:

demon lake (play)

spirits of another sort: the plays of izumi kyoka (play collection)

tanizaki junichirou:

the makioka sisters (novel)

the red roof and other stories (short story collection)

miyazawa kenji:

ame ni mo makezu; be not defeated by the rain (poem)

night on the galactic railroad (novel)

strong in the rain (poetry collection)

port mafia:

mori ougai:

vita sexualis (novel)

the dancing girl (novel)

nakahara chuuya:

poems of nakahara chuya (poetry collection)

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

rashoumon (short story)

the spider's thread (short story)

rashoumon and other stories (short story collection)

ozaki kyouyou:

the gold demon (novel)

higuchi ichiyou:

in the shade of spring leaves (biography and short stories)

hirotsu ryuurou:

falling camellia (novel)

tachihara michizou:

in mourning for the summer (poem)

midwinter momento (poem)

from the country of eight islands: an anthology of japanese poetry (poetry collection)

kajii motojirou:

lemon (short story)

yumeno kyuusaku:

dogra magra (novel)

oda sakunosuke:

flawless/immaculate (short story)

sakaguchi ango:

darakuron (essay)

the guild:

f. scott fitzgerald:

the great gatsby (novel)

the beautiful and the damned (novel)

edgar allen poe:

the raven (poem)

the black cat (short story)

the murders in the rue morgue (short story)

herman melville:

moby dick (novel)

h.p. lovecraft:

the call of cthulhu (short story)

the shadow out of time (novella)

john steinbeck:

the grapes of wrath (novel)

of mice and men (novel)

lucy maud montgomery:

anne of green gables (novel)

the blue castle (novel)

chronicles of avonlea (short story collection)

louisa may alcott:

little women (novel)

the brownie and the princess (short story collection)

margaret mitchell:

gone with the wind (novel)

mark twain:

the adventures of tom sawyer (novel)

adventures of huckleberry finn (novel)

nathaniel hawthorn:

the scarlet letter (novel)

rats in the house of the dead:

fyodor dostoevsky:

crime and punishment (novel)

the brothers karamozov (novel)

notes from the underground (short story collection)

alexander pushkin:

eugene onegin (novel)

a feast in time of plague (play)

ivan goncharov:

the precipice (novel)

oguri mushitarou:

the perfect crime (novel)

decay of the angel:

fukuchi ouchi:

the mirror lion, a spring diversion (kabuki play)

bram stoker:

dracula (novel)

dracula's guest and other weird stories (short story collection)

nikolai gogol:

the overcoat (short story)

dead souls (novel)

hunting dogs: (i must caveat here that the hunting dogs are named after much more comparatively obscure jpn writers/playwrights so i was unable to find a lot of the specific pieces actually mentioned; but i still wanted to include them on the list because well -- it wouldn't be a bsd list without them)

okura teruko:

gasp of the soul (short story; i wasn't able to find an english translation)

devil woman (short story)

jouno saigiku:

priceless tears (kabuki play; no translation but at least we have a summary)

suehiro tetchou:

setchuubai/a political novel: plum blossoms in snow (novel)

division for unusual powers:

taneda santouka:

the santoka: versions by scott watson (poetry collection)

tsujimura mizuki:

lonely castle in the mirror (novel)

yesterday's shadow tag (short story collection; i was unable to find a translation)

order of the clock tower:

agatha christie:

and then there were none (novel)

murder on the orient express (novel)

she is the best selling fiction writer of all time there's too much to list here

mimic:

andre gide:

strait is the gate (novel)

trascendents:

arthur rimbaud:

illuminations (poetry collection)

the drunken boat (poem)

a season in hell (prose poem)

johann von goethe:

faust

the sorrows of young werther

paul verlaine:

clair de lune (poem, yes it did inspire the debussy piece, yes)

poems under saturn (poetry collection)

victor hugo:

the hunchback of notre-dame (novel)

les miserables (novel)

william shakespeare:

romeo and juliet (play)

a midsummer nights' dream (play)

sonnets (poetry collection)

the seven traitors:

jules verne:

around the world in 80 days (novel)

journey to the center of the earth (novel)

twenty thousand leagues under the seas (novel)

other:

natsume souseki:

i am a cat (novel)

kokoro (novel)

botchan (novel)

h.g. wells:

the time machine (novella)

the invisible man (novel)

the war of the worlds (novel)

shibusawa tatsuhiko:

the travels of prince takaoka (novel; unable to find translation)

dr. mary wollstonecraft godwin shelley

frankenstein (novel)

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #literature #dark academia #reading list #academia #i'm sure there's people i've missed but i did my best LOL #this also really throws into a stark contrast how relatively un-worldly american literary curriculums really are #obviously; it makes vague sense to focus american literary schooling on the western 'canon' bc so much of the english language #is influenced by it and the 'culture' is more touched by it but HOLY SHIT does it just... astound me #how uneducated i am on even east asian literature (from wheremst i technically hail!!!)#i know like.... maybe 3?? 4??? chinese writers off cuff???#like the only reason i even know anything about jpn literature is i got my minor in jpn so i read some stuff but WOWWWWW there's a wORLD.#the fact that i knew not a SINGLE work by most of these jpn writers but as soon as we got to the guild members #i didn't even have to fucking google/wiki -- i just KNEW off the top of my head #kinda fucked up tbh;;;;#anyway this list is massive but i think at least dipping my foot into some of the poems/short stories will be fun

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