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princessaffirms · 1 month ago

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you don’t hope to shift — you COLLAPSE the WAVE FUNCTION. 🍎✨

the SCIENCE of reality shifting/law of assumption

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is there any SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE that reality shifting is real? what about the law of assumption? you might be surprised by how much QUANTUM PHYSICS already aligns with the shifting/loa concepts you know and love.

in quantum mechanics, there’s this core concept called WAVE FUNCTION COLLAPSE, first introduced by the copenhagen interpretation. it says that particles like electrons or photons don’t exist in one set state — instead, they exist in a state of SUPERPOSITION, meaning all possible states at once. but the moment they are observed, the wave function collapses into a SINGLE OUTCOME (zeilinger, 1999).

Figure 3. The Copenhagen Interpretation: Wave Function Collapse (World Science Association, 2020).

before observation, there is NO FIXED STATE. reality exists as an infinite, limitless wave of probabilities. and the observer’s awareness is what selects one of those possibilities and collapses it into experience (zeilinger, 1999). this doesn’t just tweak physics. it REDEFINES what we call reality.

and in quantum mechanics? this isn’t just hopeful theorizing.

this is experimentally proven FACT.

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🤍✨ THE DOUBLE SLIT EXPERIMENT

this experiment is currently one of the CLEAREST PROOFS of how observation determines outcomes. when particles like electrons are fired through two slits without being observed, they act like waves — creating an interference pattern. they behave as if they went through both slits at once (arndt et al., 1999).

but the moment you observe which slit they go through, the interference disappears. the particle behaves like a solid object and chooses one path. the act of observation alone changes the result (arndt et al., 1999). this collapse is not metaphorical — it literally happens.

^ a visual of this experiment! courtesy of tumblr <3

this experiment is truly powerful because it physically DEMONSTRATES how conscious measurement collapses potential into outcome. aka, HOW YOU CONSCIOUSLY SELECT THE REALITY YOU EXPERIENCE!

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🤍✨ REALITY SHIFTING = WAVE FUNCTION COLLAPSE

this is what reality shifting and the law of assumption point to. you’re ALWAYS FOCUSING your awareness (consciousness, identity, energy, whatever you want to call it) into ONE specific reality from an infinite quantum field (thaheld, 2005).

that INTENTIONAL ASSUMPTION collapses the wave function, making that version real for you. you don’t chase it. you don’t pull it in. you assume it’s already yours, and the quantum field reflects.

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🤍✨ BELL’S THEOREM & EXPERIMENTAL CONFIRMATION

“but what if the particles are ALREADY in a fixed state, even with no observer present?”

WELL…physicist john bell mathematically proved that NO HIDDEN VARIABLES (aka no underlying mechanics) can explain quantum behaviour, UNLESS we accept that observation itself changes outcomes.

(which is literally THE BASIS OF SHIFTING/LOA!! 🤭)

his theory was put to the test in the ASPECT EXPERIMENTS, and the results confirmed it: entangled particles (more on quantum entanglement soon!) react to each other instantly, across vast distances, and ONLY WHEN OBSERVED (aspect, dalibard, & roger, 1982). these interactions defy space and time, and yet they STILL depend on measurement (aka observation).

“SO WHAT’S THE IMPLICATION OF THIS?” 🤨

form doesn’t exist until it’s consciously interacted with. MEANING: realities don’t “lock in” until your awareness CHOOSES one.

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🤍✨ WHAT THIS MEANS FOR SHIFTING + LOA

so when we say reality shifting and loa are real, we’re not talking fiction — we’re talking PHYSICS. the universe literally doesn’t finalize outcomes until you observe them. your assumption is the observation. your inner state is the collapse (chalmers & mcqueen, 2021).

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🤍✨ FINAL THOUGHTS?

this isn’t “woo”. this is physics.

the universe is built on PROBABILITIES, and you are the one collapsing the wave function. every assumption, every shift of identity is a quantum-level decision.

your chosen reality is always waiting. so which version are you READY to assume?

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i tried my best to simplify this info so it’s more easily digestible, but as always i recommend doing your own research and reading up on the sources listed below if you’re interested in more! i hope this post helped bring you some insights and clarity. 🫶

love and light always <3

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🍎✨ REFERENCES

feynman, r. p., leighton, r. b., & sands, m. l. (1965). The Feynman lectures on physics: Vol. 3 Quantum mechanics. Addison-Wesley.

aspect, a., dalibard, j., & roger, g. (1982). Experimental test of Bell’s inequalities using time‐varying analyzers. Physical Review Letters, 49(25), 1804–1807. https://doi.org/10.1103/PhysRevLett.49.1804

zeilinger, a. (1999). A foundational principle for quantum mechanics. Foundations of Physics, 29(4), 631–643. https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1018820410908

arndt, m., et al. (1999). Wave–particle duality of C60 molecules. Nature, 401(6754), 680–682. https://doi.org/10.1038/44348

thaheld, f. h. (2005). Does consciousness really collapse the wave function? BioSystems, 81(2), 113–123. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0303264705000237

chalmers, d. j., & mcqueen, k. j. (2021). Consciousness and the collapse of the wave function. arXiv. https://arxiv.org/abs/2105.02314

a study on the interaction between human consciousness and artificial intelligence in refik anadol’s quantum memories: the creation of quantum memories by the many worlds interpretation of quantum physics – scientific figure on researchgate. (2020). world science association. available from: https://www.researchgate.net/figure/The-Copenhagen-Interpretation-Wave-Function-Collapse-World-Science-Association-2020_fig2_380334190

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haru-dipthong · 10 months ago

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Gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

In Revolutionary Girl Utena, the main character Utena is a girl (it says so in the title), but very conspicuously uses the masculine first person pronoun 僕 (boku) and dresses in (a variation of) the boys school uniform. Utena's gender, and gender in general, is a core theme of the work. And yet, I haven’t seen a single translation or analysis post where anyone considers using anything other than she/her for Utena when speaking of her in English. This made me wonder: how does one’s choice of pronouns in Japanese correspond to what one’s preferred pronouns would be in English?

There are 3 main differences between gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

Japanese pronouns are used to refer to yourself (first-person), while English pronouns are used to refer to others (third-person)

The Japanese pronoun you use will differ based on context

Japanese pronouns signify more than just gender

Let’s look at each of these differences in turn and how these differences might lead to a seeming incongruity between one’s Japanese pronoun choice and one’s English pronoun choice (such as the 僕 (boku) vs she/her discrepancy with Utena).

Part 1: First-person vs third-person

While Japanese does technically have gendered third person pronouns （彼、彼女） they are used infrequently¹ and have much less cultural importance placed on them than English third person pronouns. Therefore, I would argue that the cultural equivalent of the gender-signifying third-person pronoun in English is the Japanese first-person pronoun. Much like English “pronouns in bio”, Japanese first-person pronoun choice is considered an expression of identity.

Japanese pronouns are used exclusively to refer to yourself, and therefore a speaker can change the pronoun they’re using for themself on a whim, sometimes mid-conversation, without it being much of an incident. Meanwhile in English, Marquis Bey argues that “Pronouns are like tiny vessels of verification that others are picking up what you are putting down” (2021). By having others use them and externally verify the internal truth of one’s gender, English pronouns, I believe, are seen as more truthful, less frivolous, than Japanese pronouns. They are seen as signifying an objective truth of the referent’s gender; if not objective then at least socially agreed-upon, while Japanese pronouns only signify how the subject feels at this particular moment — purely subjective.

Part 2: Context dependent pronoun use

Japanese speakers often don’t use just one pronoun. As you can see in the below chart, a young man using 俺 (ore) among friends might use 私 (watashi) or 自分 (jibun) when speaking to a teacher. This complicates the idea that these pronouns are gendered, because their gendering depends heavily on context. A man using 私 (watashi) to a teacher is gender-conforming, a man using 私 (watashi) while drinking with friends is gender-non-conforming. Again, this reinforces the relative instability of Japanese pronoun choice, and distances it from gender.

Part 3: Signifying more than gender

English pronouns signify little besides the gender of the antecedent. Because of this, pronouns in English have come to be a shorthand for expressing one’s own gender experience - they reflect an internal gendered truth. However, Japanese pronoun choice doesn’t reflect an “internal truth” of gender. It can signify multiple aspects of your self - gender, sexuality, personality.

For example, 僕 (boku) is used by gay men to communicate that they are bottoms, contrasted with the use of 俺 (ore) by tops. 僕 (boku) may also be used by softer, academic men and boys (in casual contexts - note that many men use 僕 (boku) in more formal contexts) as a personality signifier - maybe to communicate something as simplistic as “I’m not the kind of guy who’s into sports.” 俺 (ore) could be used by a butch lesbian who still strongly identifies as a woman, in order to signify sexuality and an assertive personality. 私 (watashi) may be used by people of all genders to convey professionalism. The list goes on.

I believe this is what’s happening with Utena - she is signifying her rebellion against traditional feminine gender roles with her use of 僕 (boku), but as part of this rebellion, she necessarily must still be a girl. Rather than saying “girls don’t use boku, so I’m not a girl”, her pronoun choice is saying “your conception of femininity is bullshit, girls can use boku too”.

Through translation, gendered assumptions need to be made, sometimes about real people. Remember that he/they, she/her, they/them are purely English linguistic constructs, and don’t correspond directly to one’s gender, just as they don’t correspond directly to the Japanese pronouns one might use. Imagine a scenario where you are translating a news story about a Japanese genderqueer person. The most ethical way to determine what pronouns they would prefer would be to get in contact with them and ask them, right? But what if they don’t speak English? Are you going to have to teach them English, and the nuances of English pronoun choice, before you can translate the piece? That would be ridiculous! It’s simply not a viable option². So you must make a gendered assumption based on all the factors - their Japanese pronoun use (context dependent!), their clothing, the way they present their body, their speech patterns, etc.

If translation is about rewriting the text as if it were originally in the target language, you must also rewrite the gender of those people and characters in the translation. The question you must ask yourself is: How does their gender presentation, which has been tailored to a Japanese-language understanding of gender, correspond to an equivalent English-language understanding of gender? This is an incredibly fraught decision, but nonetheless a necessary one. It’s an unsatisfying dilemma, and one that poignantly exposes the fickle, unstable, culture-dependent nature of gender.

Notes and References

¹ Usually in Japanese, speakers use the person’s name directly to address someone in second or third person

² And has colonialist undertones as a solution if you ask me - “You need to pick English pronouns! You ought to understand your gender through our language!”

Bey, Marquis— 2021 Re: [No Subject]—On Nonbinary Gender

Rose divider taken from this post

#langblr #japanese #japanese language #language #language learning #linguistics #learning japanese #utena #revolutionary girl utena #shojo kakumei utena #rgu #sku #gender #transgender #nonbinary #trans #official blog post #translation #media analysis

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 11 months ago

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Smash Mouth - All Star 1999

"All Star" is a song by the American rockband Smash Mouth, released as the first single from their second studio album, Astro Lounge (1999). It was one of the last tracks to be written for Astro Lounge, after the band's record label Interscope requested more songs that could be released as singles. In writing it, guitarist Greg Camp drew musical influence from contemporary music by artists like Sugar Ray and Third Eye Blind, and sought out to create an "anthem" for outcasts. In contrast to the more ska punk style of Smash Mouth's debut album Fush Yu Mang (1997), the song features a more radio-friendly style.

It received generally positive reviews from music critics, who praised its musical progression from Fush Yu Mang as well as its catchy tone. It was nominated for the Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals at the 42nd Annual Grammy Awards. Subsequent reviews from critics have regarded "All Star" favourably, with some ranking it as one of the best songs of 1999. The song charted around the world, ranking in the top 10 of the charts in Australia, Canada, and on the US Billboard Hot 100, while topping the Billboard Adult Top 40 and Mainstream Top 40 charts.

The song's accompanying music video features characters from the 1999 superhero film Mystery Men, which itself prominently featured "All Star". The song became ubiquitous in popular culture following multiple appearances in films, most notably in DreamWorks Animation's 2001 film Shrek. It received renewed popularity in the 2010s as an internet meme and has ranked as one of the most-streamed rock songs from 2017 to 2021 in the US. In June 2019, the music video was remastered in high definition and received subtitles in commemoration of its 20th anniversary. By that point, it had received over 219 million views on Youtube. In 2020, The New York Times listed the song as #1 in their top ten climate change songs.

"All Star" received a total of 90,9% yes votes!

youtube

#finished #high yes #high reblog #low no #90s #smash mouth #english #o1 #o1 sweep #o1 ultrasweep #popular #lo24 #lo24 tie #lo2 #lo4

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 7 months ago

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2025 book bingo time 📚

want a completely arbitrary set of reading goals for 2025? want to try something new in your literary diet but don't know where to start? just like a challenge for the sake of a challenge? just love a good game of bingo?

boy do I have something for you!

for anyone planning to participate, please know that I LOVE attention and talking about books, so I would be STOKED to be tagged on any and all updates about what you're reading or planning to read. I'm so, so excited to see all the different ways these prompts get filled, especially if and when they bring people away from the kinds of things they normally read. not to mention snag some new reading recs myself, hopefully!

and of course, I want to know whenever somebody gets a bingo - and ESPECIALLY if somebody fills the whole board! I don't have any prizes for you, but I can offer a sense of accomplishment :)

note that this is designed to be played as 1 book = 1 space, so even if you read, say, a fantasy graphic novel published in 1923 from an indie publisher that has a bat on the cover, you'd only cross off one space. I'm not a cop and I'm not in charge of what you read, so if it sparks more joy to check off multiple spaces per book then go nuts, but I am throwing that disclaimer out there.

EDIT: the 2025 book bingo challenge is now also on storygraph, thanks to @obi-wann-cannoli!

DOUBLE EDIT: there is also now a discord server for the book bingo, thanks to @drivingmebonkas! you can join it here!

wondering what some of these spaces mean? seeking a couple recommendations to get you started? no idea what a zine even is, let alone how to make one? worry not! I have a guide to all 25 prompts, including recommendations + an example of what I'll be reading throughout the year to fulfill each space. read on beneath the cut!

Literary Fiction: I find that a lot of people are reluctant to check out literary fiction, as it’s often written off as not being about anything but adultery and divorce. If this is you, I implore you to take a chance, acknowledge that adultery and divorce are compelling sometimes, and also remember that lit fic has a lot more to offer than that. At Writer’s Digest, Michael Woodson describes literary fiction as “less of a genre than a category,” which “focuses on style, character, and theme over plot.” My recommendations include Raven Leilani’s Luster, Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, and Melissa Broder’s Milk Fed.

I’ll be reading: Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

2. Short Story Collection: You know, a bunch of short stories together in one book? It doesn’t get much more self-explanatory than that. Could be a collection of stories by a single author or an anthology—it’s up to you! I recommend checking out Mariana Enríquez’s The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (translated by Megan McDowell), Nalo Hopkinson’s Falling in Love With Hominids, and Kim Fu’s Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century.

I’ll be reading: Your Utopia by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur

3. A Sequel: It could be one that you’ve been meaning to get around to, one that’s not releasing until 2025, or the sequel to something you read to cross off another space on this very bingo sheet!

I’ll be reading: Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao, sequel to 2021’s Iron Widow

4. Childhood Favorite: Go back and read a book you loved as a child, tween, or teen! There’s no wrong answer here; anything from a YA novel to a picture book would be just lovely, and I can’t wait to see what people pick for this option! I’m not sure which of my old favorites I’ll be revisiting yet—should I go for the warm and fuzzy Casson Family series, or straight towards the mindfucky sci-fi of Interstellar Piggy? Or maybe I’ll go see how Artemis Fowl holds up...

5. 20th Century Speculative Fiction: For those not familiar with the term, speculative fiction can encapsulate science fiction, fantasy, and anything else that falls into the unreal. You’re spoiled for iconic choices here: the 20th century gave us Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale, Butler’s Parable of the Sower and Kindred, L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, the beginning of Pratchett’s Discworld series, Diana Wynne Jones’ Howls’ Moving Castle, and countless others.

I’ll be reading: Dawn by Octavia E. Butler, love of my literary life 💜

6. Fantasy: Fantasy comes in a thousand different shades, from contemporary urban wizards with day jobs at the office to high fantasy spellslingers chasing dragons away from castles. Some examples I’ve adored are N.K. Jemisin’s The Killing Moon, C.L. Polk’s Witchmark, Fonda Lee’s Jade City, and Nghi Vo’s Empress of Salt and Fortune.

I’ll be reading: The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

7. Published Before 1950: This one could not be more straightforward if I tried. You have all of human history (or at least, all the parts that have surviving literature), just not the last 75 years. Dig deep!

I’ll be reading: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, published in 1938

8. Independent Publisher: Did you guys know that just five publishing companies (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins Publishers, Macmillan Publishers, Simon & Schuster, and Hachette Book Group) are responsible for 80% of books published in the US each year, and 25% of books globally? Break away from the big five and see what some small presses are putting out! If you need some ideas about where to start, check out this list of nearly 300 independent publishers with notes on what kind of books they put out!

I’ll be reading: Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ and translated by Lin King, from Graywolf Press

9. Graphic Novel/Comic Book/Manga: Despite my personal obsession with Batman, the world of comic books is sooo much wider than Gotham City—or anything else that DC and Marvel have to offer. If superheroes aren’t your speed, check out the Southern gothic of Carmen Maria Machado and Dani Strips’ comic The Low, Low Woods, splash around in Kat Leyh’s graphic novel Thirsty Mermaids, or stop waiting for a new season of Dungeon Meshi and go read Ryoko Kui’s manga, translated to English by Taylor Engel.

I’ll be reading: The Fade, by Aabria Iyengar and Mari Costa

10. Animal on the Cover: Yes, yes, don’t judge a book by its cover—but do go find one with a critter on the cover and give it a read! Absolutely no other requirements here, get silly with it.

I’ll be reading: Shark Heart by Emily Habeck

11. Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Fiction or nonfiction, doesn’t matter so long as it gives you a little glimpse of a country you’ve never visited in real life. If you’ve somehow visited every country currently recognized in the world, then I guess you get to go read something set in space.

I’ll be reading: A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon and Kim Sanho, translated by Anton Hur

12. Science Fiction: A genre just as diverse as fantasy, with a little something for everybody! I recommend Becky Chambers’ Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet for those who want to kiss an alien in the stars and Jessamine Chan’s The School for Good Mothers for those who want a surveillance state dystopia that hits much closer to home.

I’ll be reading: Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

13. 2025 Debut Author: Read a book by someone who’s releasing their first book in 2025. Fic or nonfic, any genre, no further requirements. Not quite a free space, but pretty close!

I’ll be reading: Liquid: A Love Story by Mariam Rahmani, coming out March 11

14. Memoir: Per Wikipedia, a memoir is “any nonfiction narrative writing based on the author’s personal memories.” Some are funny, some are heartbreaking, some are both! I recommend Carman Maria Machado’s In the Dream House and Roxane Gay’s Hunger, because I tend to lean heartbreaking!

I’ll be reading: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Again, I like heartbreaking!

15. Read a Zine, Make a Zine: Not familiar with zines? No problem! Check out some of these digital archives for inspiration, and then craft your own zine with this simple guide (or do it your own way, I’m not in charge of you).

Internet Archives: https://archive.org/details/zines

Gay Zine Archive Project: https://gittings.qzap.org/

POC Zine Project: https://poczineproject.tumblr.com/

Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/collections/zine-web-archive/

16. Essay Collection: Like a short story collection, but it’s nonfiction now. Some of my favorites include Samantha Irby’s We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, Elaine Castillo’s How to Read Now, Aimee Nezhukhumatathil’s World of Wonders, and Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings.

I’ll be reading: A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

17. 2024 Award Winner: What award? Any award you like! And boy, there are tons to pick from. Any book that won any award in the year 2024 is free game. If you need some places to start looking, check out some of these:

Lambda Literary Awards, for excellence in LGBT literature: https://lambdaliterary.org/awards__trashed/2024-winners/

The Alex Awards, for adult books with crossover appeal for teen readers: https://www.ala.org/yalsa/alex-awards

Ignyte Awards, celebrating diversity in speculative fiction: https://ignyteawards.fiyahlitmag.com/2024-results/

Women's Prize for Fiction (self explanatory) https://womensprize.com/prizes/womens-prize-for-fiction/

Others: https://www.bookbrowse.com/awards/

I’ll be reading: Biography of X by Catherine Lacey, winner of the 2024 Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Fiction

18. Nonfiction: Learn Something New: I know very little about archaeology, anthropology, or any other fields that involve studying ancient cities, but Annalee Newitz’s Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age was some of the most fun I had with nonfiction in 2024, because every page brought a brand new discovery. For 2025, find a nonfiction book about a topic you don’t know ANYTHING about, and learn something new!

I’ll be reading: Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment by Hi’ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart

19. Social Justice & Activism: Read a book about a social issue, the history of an activist movement, or brush up on a guiding philosophy or ideology. Arm yourself with knowledge, besties, because I have a feeling we’re going to need it! if you need a good place to start, why not try Angela Davis' Race, Women & Class, Mariame Kaba's We Do This 'Til We Free Us, or Molly Smith and Juno Mac's Revolting Prostitutes?

I’ll be reading: White Feminism: From Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind by Koa Beck

20. Romance Novel: Listen to me. Fucking listen to me. I mean a ROMANCE. NOVEL. Not a novel that incidentally has a romance in it. Romance novel, motherfucker. Go check out the romance section and have some whimsy as two people fall in love through the most contrived series of events ever conceived. If you really need a romance that makes you feel smart (that’s still sexy and messy as hell), try Akwaeke Emezi’s You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty.

I’ll be reading: Go Luck Yourself by Sara Raasche

21. Read and Make a Recipe: Could be a cookbook, could be a recipe you yoinked from the New York Times, could be something your grandparents lovingly wrote down by hand. Could be as complex or as simple as you like, just make something tasty! Some cookbooks I’ve enjoyed are Sohla El-Waylly’s Start Here, Dan Pashman’s Mission Impastable, and John Wang and Storm Garner’s The World Eats Here.

22. Horror: Slashers, zombies, haunted houses, creeping paranoia, you name it! It’s time to get spooky and scary with all kinds of things going bump in the night. Maybe this is the year to finally keep up with Dracula Daily? Not for me, I'm not doing that, but you could!

I’ll be reading: I Was A Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

23. Published in the Aughts: A throwback, but not too far back. Read something published between 2000 and 2009. Maybe it’s time to finally get into Twilight? (For legal reasons, that’s a joke.)

I’ll be reading: The Sluts by Dennis Cooper, published in 2004

24. Historical Fiction: You know, fiction that takes place in a bygone era! Please remember, this isn’t just about reading a book that’s old; we have a separate prompt for that! This is about reading something that takes place in the past relative to the time it was written. Pride and Prejudice is historical to us, but was contemporary when Austen wrote it. Think of Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half, Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, or history + a bit of fantasy in book's like R.F. Kuang's Babel.

I’ll be reading: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: This one is fun, and something I always like to do when I’m travelling and visiting a new bookstore. Ask a bookseller or librarian to recommend something they’ve liked, and check it out! If going in person isn’t feasible, many bookstores and libraries have staff picks on their websites, and the Indie Next List is a monthly list of independent booksellers’ favorite new releases.

I’ll be reading: The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich, which I bought at Erdrich’s bookstore, Birchbark Books, this summer :)

lastly: tagging people who asked to be tagged to make sure they didn't miss this! @thebisexualwreckoning @perfunctoryperfusions @reallyinkyhands come get your bingo sheet!

#bookblr #2025 book bingo

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txttletale · 1 year ago

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Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

#ask #ai art #long post

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wachinyeya · 5 months ago

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Brush-tailed bettongs (also known as woylies) once inhabited more than 60% of mainland Australia. However, the European colonization of the country brought with it predatory feral cats and foxes, and the destruction of much of the animal’s native grassland and woodland habitats.

Between 1999 and 2010, the species’ population size declined by 90% – a drastic drop that some research suggests may have resulted from the spread of blood parasites, alongside other factors. Today, the brush-tailed bettong is limited to just a few islands and isolated mainland pockets in Southwestern Australia: a mere 1% of its former range.

Marna Banggara

“We are on a mission, if you like, to bring back some of these native species that have gone missing in our landscape since European colonization,” says Derek Sandow, project manager of Marna Banggara, an initiative dedicated to restoring some of the Yorke Peninsula’s historic ecological diversity.

Formerly known as the “Great Southern Ark,” the project, which was launched in 2019 by the Northern and Yorke Landscape Board, was renamed to honor the region’s native Narungga people, who are heavily involved with the initiative.

“Marna in our language means good, prosperous, healthy, and Banggara means country,” says Garry Goldsmith, a member of the Narungga community who works on the project.

The team initially erected a 25-kilometer predator-control fence across the narrow part of the Yorke Peninsula to create a 150,000-hectare safe haven for the first species to be brought back: the brush-tailed bettong, known as yalgiri to the Narungga people. “We’ve reduced fox and cat impacts to a level that’s low enough for these yalgiri to be reintroduced and for them to actually find refuges, find food, and to survive themselves,” says Sandow.

Between 2021 and 2023, the team introduced almost 200 brush-tailed bettongs to the protected area. Sourcing these individuals from various remaining populations across Western Australia helped to “increase the genetic pool,” says Goldsmith.

EcoSystem Engineers

Brush-tailed bettongs feed on bulbs, seeds and insects, but their primary food source is fungi growing underground; to find it, they must dig. “They’re nature’s little gardeners,” says Sandow, “a single yalgiri can turn over two to six tons of soil per year.”

That’s why they’re the first species being reintroduced to the region, he says. All this digging aerates the soil, improves water filtration and helps seedlings germinate – benefitting other animals that rely on the ecosystem.

#australia #decolonisation #woylies #brush-tailed bettong #bettongs #environmentalism #good news #science #environment #nature #animals #conservation #yalgiri #animal welfare #animal conservation #rewilding

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marsmaximoff · 6 months ago

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🦑 hwang jun-ho; headcanons 〇△□

content warning: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of death, coma and jealousy. pet names. no season 2 spoilers. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 941

author’s note: well, my man is back, and i had to write some headcanons for him. the OBSESSION that i had back in 2021 needs to be studied, omg. anyway, as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, english is my third language, so i apologize for any mistakes. in case i don’t post anything else this year, happy 2025 everybody!! enjoy! 🩷

divider by @k1ssyoursister

〇 pre-games

best. boyfriend. ever.

that’s it, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

🙃🙃🙃

his love languages are:

1) quality time

he may be a police detective, but he ALWAYS tries to make time for you

and see you every day, and if he can’t, he’ll save some minutes to call you

loves to hear about your day

big on communication, that’s key on your relationship

type of boyfriend that picks you up after work, or anything really

he just wants to see your cute face :3

takes you out on cool dates

to the park, to eat, to cute animal cafés

he’s okay with staying in too, just cuddling, talking, watching something….

and 2) acts of service

will drive you anywhere you need

you get ‘good morning/night’ texts every single day you’re not together

makes you breakfast

and has no problem with cooking for you

opens doors for you

pulls out the chair at the restaurant ☝🏻

he’ll simply do anything you need

loves coming home to you, it doesn't matter how shitty or overwhelming his day was, you just put a smile on his face

his favorite thing to do with you is eating

it may sound boring, but he loves to see you taking care of yourself, well-fed and happy

takes you to meet his family

his mom loves you

even his brother likes you

he’s a tease and enjoys seeing you all flustered

i feel like he’d be the type to have many pics of you on his phone that he goes back to whenever he misses you

you’re probably his wallpaper, perhaps even on his wallet too 🤭

some pet names like: “honey”, “love”, “beautiful”, “cutie”

would never cheat

a guard dog

not super jealous -a bit tho- but won't hesitate to step up if someone acts stupid

(picture that one scene in season 2 when that man mocked him and didn’t believe he was an actual police detective hehe)

shows you off 🤩

checks you out :p

his hand is on you in some way when you’re out

has good emotional intelligence

big spoon

reminds you to take your make up off before bed if you wear any -he may even do it himself if you're too tired

or to take meds

he is just really caring and supportive

doesn't like seeing you worried or anxious because of his job

absolutely hates to see you suffer

doesn’t mind that you may be struggling financially, it won’t change what he feels

will help you with whatever it is

just don’t hide it, he hates secrets and lies

i hate doing it, but there always has to be some 🚩

he’s the first one that would do it (lying and hiding stuff) to ensure you’re okay and don’t get worried

on a particularly overwhelming day, he will raise his voice at you

can get really overprotective

some days you may not hear from him, or at least not much

will sometimes struggle to open up about his issues or what’s upsetting him

△ during the games

after your sudden disappearance, worry and fear ate him up

while checking your house he found a weird card

and once he discovered the exact same one at his brother’s, he knew something was going on

heard gi-hun at the police station rambling about some weird symbols and immediately recognized the design

interrogated him about you, desperate to know about your whereabouts

as soon as he successfully infiltrated the games, he began your search

almost had a heart attack when he spotted you

had to make the effort of his life to stay calm and not run to you

would somehow manage to get you two alone so he can get you out of there (i wrote about this)

almost gets caught

feels betrayed you didn’t tell him and quite angry you’d risk your own life like this

but mostly relieved you’re okay (and still alive)

watches you like a hawk from the distance, ensuring your safety

constantly around, you continuously sense his presence close by

□ post-games (you died)

had to see your death and practically went numb

blurry vision, ringing in his ears, shortness of breath, sting in his throat

the worst thing tho, was finding out his brother had been behind everything

how could he have done this to you? you trusted him!

feels completely disgusted

after his coma, he blames himself for everything

your name was his first word after waking up

dreams about you

gets you a cenotaph given that your body will forever remain strayed

nevertheless, he still talks to you like you’re there

tells you about his recovery and his progress finding the island

you are his strongest motivation

he’s doing this for you, to provide the love of his life a much deserving peaceful rest

gets you new flowers every few days

he’ll never stop feeling guilty

〇 post-games (you survived)

has nightmares he failed and left you to meet your demise on those cursed games

always there when you have them, and so is his shoulder if you need to cry

reassurance king

hides the identity of his attacker from you

becomes even more overprotective

shared location on at all times

gets paranoid if you don’t text him all day

he swore to never miss a single detail of your possible struggles. not again

you can still tell he holds himself responsible for your time on that island

stays awake at night just watching you sleep safe and sound (will never say it tho)

babies you

bigger spoon

doesn’t let you go out on your own if it’s late, afraid that something may happen and those psychopaths will reach you again

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #wi ha joon #wi ha jun #hwang jun ho #hwang junho #squid game headcanons #squid game x reader #squid game x you #wi ha joon x reader #wi ha joon x you #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x you #hwang jun ho headcanons #Spotify

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wosospacegirl · 29 days ago

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Youngest Putellas - platonic! reader

Summary: There was a shadow growing in the Putellas family, unnoticed, while everyone kept their attention on Alexia. Somehow, your mom's house and your city felt too small for both you and your sister.

Warnings: mentions of grief, angst, and just emotional stuff overall.

Word count: 4.5k

Info: This story is set before UEFA 2022. The reader has been in La Masia since she was a kid, went to Barça's A team but moved on loan to Real Madrid. She is about 21 here.

Part 2 here

Your relationship with your sisters was always troubled. It was the type of relationship that was demanding, laborious even, that didn't stand on its own easily.

It had always been like that, though.

You were 7 years younger than Alexia, 5 years younger than Alba. They were always very close, always telling each other stuff, always getting each other's backs.

Alexia and Alba were the kind of sisters who exemplified what sisterhood was all about. Alba would sneak into Alexia’s bed in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. She was the one Alexia turned to whenever she was struggling with friendships and didn’t know what to do

They weren't sisters. They were friends. Best friends.

You, on the other hand, always felt just like their relative.

Someone who grew up in the same house, someone who just happened to have the same parents.

But when you were younger, it was easier, somehow. You didn't notice how the two girls always seemed to read each other's minds while you were left alone, wondering what they were thinking.

You always thought it was because they were so close in age, they were going through basically the same stuff, the same growing pains.

With Alexia, it was even more difficult, and you honestly couldn't see why. You both enjoyed football, you were introverted and socially awkward in the same way, you had everything to get along, but you just didn't.

Maybe it was because you two looked so much alike.

It was hard looking at one's mirror every single day.

Your mum always tried to bring you sisters together, and it worked sometimes.

Your relationship wasn't completely bad after all, it was just challenging. It was like both parts had to work hard to create a connection that clearly wasn't there.

You, foolishly, thought that getting into the Barcelona team would make it all easier, that it would bring you and Alexia together.

But it didn't.

Actually, getting into Barcelona was one of the worst experiences you have ever had. You had worked hard through La Masia to get where you were, to be called up to team A, but you were too young.

You had talent, but you let your emotions get the best of you on the pitch. On a good day, you would shine. On a bad day, you would let the ball slip out of your feet straight to the other team's defence.

The managers always made sure to tell you how different your game style was from your sister, the captain.

"You should learn from her, Y/n," they would say as you were hydrating on a very sunny day. "She has technique, she's composed on the pitch."

"You let your emotions guide you in the worst way possible."

"Alexia always has her head and heart in the game, you just have the heart."

They weren't wrong. Your play style was very different from your sister's. Alexia was collected on the pitch, it was like nothing could shake her. You weren't like that.

"I'm not made of stones" was what you usually said.

In the end, it was easy and good criticism.

You needed to be more mature, on and outside of the pitch.

Growing up as the youngest, it was all you would hear all the time. Most families say the youngest ones are the most babied, but in the Putellas family, the youngest was the one who had to grow up fast, trying to catch up to the older ones.

On the 2020-2021 season, you had an okay year. You had good games, bad ones too, but it wasn't nearly good enough for Barcelona. You were too young, still too immature.

But your contract wasn't close to the end, and Barcelona had no intention of paying the lease of a broken contract, so they gave you an option.

Going on loan to Real Madrid or just accepting you were going to be benched for the remainder of the season.

You left the office without a proper answer.

If you went to Real Madrid, you knew it would be a pure disgrace to your culer family, especially to your sister, but if you went there, you knew you would be able to play.

Real Madrid needed a few defenders, and you were good enough for them. Your second option was staying in Barcelona and just... not playing.

The Champions League was approaching. You knew you would never get there with Real Madrid, but you knew that if you got a medal for winning the UEFA with Barcelona, it wouldn't be by your own doing. The club had made sure you knew you would get zero minutes.

When you got home, Alexia, Alba and your Mom were already at the table, waiting for you to start dinner.

Normally, Alexia would give you a ride, but you asked her to go without you. Instead, you took the metro, considering and rethinking everything that was said in the meeting room.

Everybody was talking.

Alexia didn't talk about football, she never did with Mom and Alba. Alexia always said she needed people she could talk to about things other than football. People that made her feet like she was more than just a player.

Maybe it was one of the reasons why the two of you didn't get along much. Besides football, you didn't have the same interests.

You liked music, playing instruments, mainly piano, which you learned from your Dad.

He also loved it. He tried to teach Alexia, but he would say she only had coordination with her feet, then he tried Alba, who had the talent, but didn't care to practice, and then he tried you.

Third time's the charm, he said. You had the talent and the passion. You practised with him every night after he came home from picking up Alexia from training. He would sit you on his lap and teach you Catalan songs while Alba would sit at the foot of the piano, her doll in hand, playing house while Alexia would kick the ball against the wall.

It was messy, but everybody was together, everybody with their own interests.

But then Dad died. It was 2012. Alexia was only 18, Alba 16, and you were 11.

Alba and Mom cried a lot.

Alexia and you not so much, but that didn't mean you didn't feel it in your bones. It wasn't sadness.

Sadness would be too little to express the emptiness and the numbness that took over your body from such a young age.

You didn't understand death, but when you asked your Mom or grandma about it, it seemed like they didn't understand it either.

When Alba would cry, you would be the first one to come hug her, say that Dad loved her, and that he was watching over from wherever he was.

Alexia would come second, not knowing very well how to comfort someone, but feeling the weight of being the oldest.

After Dad, Alexia became, at the same time, more distant, but still more present.

She was still at home; she didn't move out, even though she could. She was playing for the A team at Barcelona and had played for Spain as well. She chose to stay.

During one night, while you were supposed to be asleep, you heard her and Mom talk. Mom said she was overwhelmed. Alba was getting in trouble, sneaking out, talking with people she shouldn't, then she talked about you.

You were surprised at first. You had tried your hardest to be the one who didn't cause problems, knowing Mom was missing Dad a lot, but she said she missed hearing you on the piano.

You hadn't touched it since Dad passed away, months ago. It hurt to even look at it.

You didn't wait to hear Alexia, you went straight to bed.

The next day, you woke up with Alexia on your side of the bed.

She was sitting there, her Barcelona jersey on. She told you you were going to play, that she wanted to hear a few songs.

You said no. You didn't want to play for anyone who wasn't Dad.

She ignored you. She dragged you out of bed. The room you shared with Alba still pitch black. She forced you down on the piano bench.

"Play," she demanded, her voice cold, icy.

You shook your head. Why was she doing that? Didn't she know it hurt?

"Now, petita," [young sister] she said again, more harshly.

You tried to get away, but she held you back.

You started playing. Maybe if you finished it, maybe Alexia would let you go.

As you were hitting the piano keys, the same way Dad taught you, you felt the heaviness in your chest changing to something different.

It wasn't lighter, just... different.

You didn't notice you were crying until you felt the tips of your fingers wet.

Water wasn't good for the piano. Dad never let any of you near it with anything liquid.

You should stop. Take a towel and clean it, but you couldn't. The song wasn't done yet.

So you kept going. Maybe if you finished it, then Dad would make himself known to you again, maybe you would feel the love people swore he left.

People always told you Dad had gone, but that he was still here, that he left parts of himself in each of his daughters.

But you didn't see Dad when you looked in the mirror, you didn't see Dad when you looked at your sisters. He was nowhere to be seen because he wasn't here anymore.

He wasn't going to come back.

The stupid piano would be here, and he wouldn't.

When you realised you were hitting the keys with more force than intended, and Alexia was calling you, shaking you, screaming your name.

"Para ya!" [Stop it!] she shouted. Tears were streaming down her face, she was sobbing, and her face was completely red. "Para, para ya!"

You stopped at the same time Mom and Alba ran downstairs, probably having heard the screams and crying.

Mom didn't know what to do. Alexia was crying hysterically, hands on her face, while you were crying too, but it was like your fingers were glued to the piano.

You weren't playing anymore, but they were there, on the exact keys they should be on to continue the song.

On one side of the room was the youngest daughter of Eli, a kid who had just lost her father and one of her greatest passions along with it.

On the other, was the older kid, who had just turned into an adult, but was still very much her baby.

Your Mom went to Alexia, hugged her tight, telling her to breathe. Alba went in your direction, gently taking your hands off the piano while cleaning your cheeks from the tears.

Dad should be here. He would know how to make it better. He should be here. He was the missing piece. Your family wouldn't be the same without him.

You cried on Alba's shoulder, her hand patting your back as if you were a toddler who scraped her knee.

She was murmuring something about also missing Dad, that it was okay.

But it wasn't. She knew it wasn't okay, too.

The chaotic Moment only escalated when Alexia got up from the sofa, getting away from Mom's arms.

She pointed at the piano, eyes full of hatred.

"Get it away from here, throw it in the trash, I don't want it here!"

You barely had time to process.

You freed yourself from Alba’s arms before throwing the top half of your body on the piano, holding it tightly. It was cold against your naked arms, but you didn’t mind.

It was yours to keep. Your memory of Dad. The piano was Dad.

"No! You can't do that," you said in between tears, looking betrayed at both Mom and Alexia. "It's mine, it’s Dad's!"

Why were they doing that? They didn’t want Dad in the house again? How could they see the piano and not feel Dad’s comforting presence?

Didn’t Mom remember how Dad would always sing a romantic song for her on Valentine's Day? Didn’t Alba remember how Dad would play her favourite cartoon songs on the piano?

Had Alexia forgotten how Dad would always play Barcelona’s anthem for her? Had they all forgotten what the piano meant?

Maybe they did remember. Maybe it was just too much for them to look at every day.

But it wasn’t trash, they couldn’t throw it away, not without erasing Dad’s memory along with it.

"It can't be here," Alexia said between her teeth. "Dad's not here anymore, no reason to keep it."

"Girls, calm down, let's breathe," Mom said, trying to ease the situation, but it didn't work, because you and Alexia continued to argue.

You didn't remember what you said, you also couldn't remember what Alexia said.

What you did remember was how Alexia told Mom that she would move out if the piano wasn't gone.

Mom had just lost her husband, she couldn't lose her oldest kid, too. So she chose Alexia.

The piano was gone the next morning.

Now, sitting at the table, you looked to the corner of the living room, where the piano was some years ago.

You stared at it. It had nothing now, it was just a corner. Then you looked at the table, surrounded by what was left of your family.

"I'm moving to Madrid," you said, tapping at the table anxiously.

And that's when it all got so much worse.

Alexia didn't drive you to the airport; Alba did. She was smiling, but you could tell how she really felt about the whole situation; she didn't want you to go, didn't agree with it, but she understood why you were doing it.

Mom was still a mystery. The night before your flight, she helped you pack everything carefully, telling you that she was proud of you for following your own pace and for making a decision that she knew was best for your career. She filled your cheeks with kisses and tucked you in before she closed the door to your room.

The next morning, though, she prepared breakfast and cried over your eggs. You didn't say anything, just hugged her tight and told her you were going to be okay, that you were a few hours away. You were moving cities, not countries.

You had a final breakfast with your family, but you couldn't help but look up at the door, the back door everyone used instead of the front one, the door Alexia was supposed to walk through any minute because she was your sister and your captai,n and she needed to say goodbye, right?

You drank a cup of coffee and Alexia wasn't there.

You drank a second one, still no sound of Alexia's car.

When you were on your way to make the third, Mom held you hard. "She's not coming, petita."

"Oh," you said, putting your cup down. "Why? She's got training?"

Maybe she had something important. Ever since you agreed to go on a loan, Barcelona had blocked your access to the players' schedule, so you really didn't know.

Mom opened her mouth, then closed it.

You understood it right away.

Alexia wasn't coming because she didn't want to. Simple as that.

You nodded to Mom, trying to put on a brave face. She was already anxious that you were moving out to a city you'd never been in; she didn't need to know you were sad because your sister wasn't coming to say goodbye.

Your dumb, self-centred sister.

She did everything for her team, especially the youngest players, but couldn't seem to be there when you needed her the most.

You knew why, of course.

Alexia had treated it as some sort of betrayal when you told her you picked Real Madrid instead of Barcelona. You tried telling her, explaining that in Barça you were not getting any minutes as a defender, but she didn't listen.

She told you how selfish you were being, that you couldn't move away from them, that Mom and Alba would miss you—she never mentioned herself—then she talked about how idiotic you were for going to a "low-class club" that barely had won anything.

You told her to stop multiple times. Told her that you weren't asking her, you were just letting her know you were moving.

When she mentioned Dad, things escalated. She said how sad Dad would be to have one of his daughters play for a club he hated.

That was when you took your plate, still filled with food, and threw it on the floor, next to Alexia's feet. You aimed it so it wouldn't hurt her, of course. Your sister was getting on your nerves, but no need to draw blood.

You didn't remember what happened next. Alba took you to your room, Mom stayed in the kitchen, calming Alexia and cleaning everything up.

You felt bad for the plate. It was Mom's favourite.

Mom was crying as soon as you got to the gate, ready to fly. You had the plane ticket in one hand, your luggage in the other, and your backpack on your back.

Alba was holding Nala, the little family dog. If it wasn't for your mom, Nala would be the family member you would miss the most—sorry, Alba.

"I need to go," you said, smiling down at Nala and scratching her head. "I'll miss you, you behave for Mom, okay?"

Nala just looked at you, not understanding what goodbyes meant.

Alba held you tight when you went in for a hug. "Don't go all crazy in Madrid, please," she said. "I mean it, I've been twenty-one before, I know how exciting things can be."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm going there for work, not to party."

Alba giggled. "You sound just like Alexia."

She quickly realised what she had said and looked at you pitifully, whispering a small "sorry."

You waved it off before kissing Mom goodbye. "You take care of yourself," Mom said between tears. "Take a taxi and go straight to the apartment, don't talk to anyone at the airport and—"

"Mom!" you said, smiling a bit. "Calm down, it's okay, I know how to care for myself."

"You are too young," Mom murmured while fixing a string of hair that was out of place on your head. "Older kids are supposed to be the first ones moving, not the youngest... you're my baby."

"Mama, I'm not a baby."

"Don't talk to your mother like that," Mom huffed. "You always will be, you three."

Three.

Three Putellas Seguras were supposed to be here, not just two.

Then, your flight was called. You had to go now.

You gave them both another round of hugs. Parting was weird, it was like the goodbyes were never enough. In reality, they never were.

You turned around, waving at them before entering the gate and walking through the tunnel straight into the plane.

When you sat in your seat—window seat, yay—you checked your phone one last time before the flight took off.

There were some messages, some from friends and players at Barcelona, telling you to enjoy and make the best out of this moment.

Another one from Alba, a selfie with her, Mom and Nala saying "Mom's saying she misses you already."

But the one that got your attention was written under the name of Ale.

"Text me when you land. Don't trust those Madristas."

You smiled at the message because, of course, Alexia was paranoid.

But she was also telling you to be safe. It was the closest Alexia could get to "I love you."

Still, you didn’t answer.

Alexia was still going to be Alexia, no matter what place in the world you would move to. She was cold, but warm when she wanted to be. She cared a lot, so much that she couldn't push herself to show it. Felt so much about everything, but still, decided to keep everything to herself.

That was who Alexia was. And it was hurting you.

You hurt her, too, you knew that. Maybe because you reminded her of Dad, maybe because the similarities between you two were too noticeable.

You weren't sure. Maybe you would never know.

Still, you wished your sister were here to say goodbye.

You sighed as you put on your earphones as the flight took off.

When you got to Madrid a few hours later, you felt like you had just opened a new chapter in your life. This was the place to make a difference for yourself, away from your sister's shadow.

Barcelona was her city. Madrid was yours now, even though you had just set foot in it. You would make it your place. You'd always felt like Barcelona wasn't quite right for you.

The memory of your dad–and the version of your family you should’ve had–always haunted those streets

Madrid was still pure of any of your sins. You had never played football on these streets. Never sneaked out to a party here. Alba had never taken you to get a tattoo hidden from Mom. Alexia had never taken you drinking on your 18th birthday here.

You were the only Putellas in Madrid. Maybe you didn't quite know what that meant, but it mattered. Somehow it did.

You were good enough to text Mom that you had gotten off the flight safely, and that you were already sprawled on the floor of your new apartment.

Mom called right away, demanding to video call so you could show her the apartment, which you did.

On the screen, the only faces were those of your Mom and Alba. It seemed like Alexia had decided not to show up at Mom’s at all that day.

You decided to ignore it. While also keeping in mind that you had yet to text her that you had landed... well, maybe mom already told her.

You showed Mom and Alba your apartment. It was small, just one room, one bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. It was in an apartment complex for players, so you had already met a few of your teammates.

They seemed nice, not any of those weird stories Alexia had told you about them being snakes. Maybe Alexia had taken to heart all of those stories Dad told when they were younger. Dad was the most culer of them all, after all.

The next day, you got your training kit and were asked to see if everything fitted so they could take a few pictures of you for media day.

As soon as you put on the Real Madrid jersey, you cried.

You thought about calling Mom, or Alba, even Alexia, but you didn't.

You chose to move away, which meant dealing with things on your own.

That badge felt wrong on you, the colour white looked horrible on your skin, and the whole situation felt off.

What were you doing? Wearing these colours? Defending another team? Maybe Alexia was right, maybe Dad was very upset right now, maybe this wasn't the life he had envisioned for you.

But what was the life he expected of you? Being a benchwarmer in Barcelona? Being compared to your sister all the time? La Reina of Barcelona?

You didn't know what was expected of you. You also didn't know what you wanted. You thought you wanted to come to Madrid, but now the decision felt exactly as Alexia said it was—stupid.

Okay, everything was fine, actually, you thought to yourself as you were being guided into Real Madrid's training grounds. It looked nice and modern. You were scared of how it was going to look. You knew Real Madrid didn’t exactly prioritise investing in the women’s team.

You did some pictures and a lot of videos for their Instagram. In a matter of days, everybody knew that you went on loan. You had read the comments, people saying it was shocking to see a Putellas in white, others congratulating you for taking this difficult step.

You did some training on the pitch with the other girls. Their training was more focused on the individual players rather than on the team, which you thought was weird, but hey, who were you to say anything?

When you lay down to sleep that night, you texted Mom to let her know how everything was. It felt good to listen to her voice.

"How are you, petita?"

"I'm okay, Mom," you said. You weren't telling her that you cried your eyes out a few days ago because you couldn't make pasta the same way she did. "And you? How's Alba... Alexia?"

"I'm good, just missing my petita," your mom said, sadly. "But your sisters are being good to me. Alba has been taking me to pilates, Alexia always comes home after training to watch TV with me."

"I'm glad, Mama," you answered. "You should focus a bit on yourself now, you spent almost thirty years taking care of us."

"I like taking care of my girls," she said, "but enough of that, how's training? Have you made any good friends?"

The way mom said it, it looked like she was asking if you had anyone to share your lunch with during recess.

"Yes, Mama, I've been getting close to Teresa," you said. "She's nice, she lives in the complex too, she's showing me around Madrid."

"Oh, that makes me so happy!" Mom said. "You keep focusing on yourself, bebita, focus on your football, on your friends, I want you to feel good."

"I'm working on that, Mama," you said. "I need to go now, but I'll call you tomorrow!"

"One thing before we say goodbye, petita," Mom said. "Have you been calling your sister? I know you call Alba, but what about Ale?"

Not that conversation again. Since you moved to Madrid a few weeks ago, Mom had been prying about you and Alexia's relationship, asking if you had been talking. You knew she was asking that of you and not Alexia because you were way more open than Alexia could ever be.

"We talk, Mom," you lied. "Don't stress over us, okay? We love each other."

At least you hoped Alexia loved you.

Mom sighed. "Just... call her more often. She told me she misses giving you rides to training."

And with that, Mom ended the call, and you were left wondering.

Alexia absolutely hated to give you rides. She said it messed up with her morning routine, that you ate breakfast too slowly, that you always slammed her car's door, even though you didn't.

Maybe it was because Alexia didn't really express her feelings, maybe it was because you couldn't fathom someone missing you.

Still, it sat there, aching in a corner of your chest.

Part 2 here

a/n: "El Cant dels Ocells" (The Song of the Birds) is a famous Catalan song. It's very pretty, you guys should listen to it!! <3 -> I don't know where the idea of this fic came from. I'm reading some books where the author just writes whatever in their character's mind, so I tried to do this here. That's why the reader sounds so messy and confused, because she is haha. -> Also, I plan to write more about the reader's story. I know she'll end up in Arsenal at some point (I want to write something about Alexia and the reader against each other in the UEFA final hehe, but we'll see where we go.

#woso x reader #woso fanfic #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x sister!reader #alexia puttelas x platonic reader #woso x platonic!reader

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ari-ana-bel-la · 26 days ago

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Hiii would you do Charles with a teen daughter who does a lot of music (piano but maybe other instruments as well) but she plays a sport like basketball and gets a nerve injury in her wrist and really struggles to play music again becusse she’s thinking it but her fingers just aren’t playing it and dad Charles just being super sweet when she gets frustrated and trying to help her? thank you!!

The Silence between Notes

The late afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of their Monaco apartment, casting long golden stripes across the hardwood floor. Yn sat hunched over the grand piano in the corner of the living room, her right hand hovering uncertainly above the keys. Her fingers twitched, reluctant and unfamiliar, like they belonged to someone else. Her left hand rested on her thigh, trembling slightly—not from pain, but from frustration.

Her cello stood silently by the window, its curves glowing warmly in the light, but untouched. Just the thought of trying to play it again made her stomach twist. She had tried two nights ago. It had ended in tears.

She struck a single note on the piano, her finger stumbling. Then another. But when she tried to begin the gentle entrance to Clair de Lune, the right hand lagged, stiff and unsure, and the melody fell apart like a house of cards. She slammed the lid closed, the sound loud and jarring.

“Ugh!” Yn groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Why is this so hard? It’s like my hand forgot how to move.”

She didn’t hear him come in, but she felt his presence—gentle, quiet, always waiting for her to invite him in. Charles leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his soft eyes full of sympathy. He had been listening for a while, resisting the urge to come in too soon. He knew how much she hated being watched when she was struggling.

He finally spoke. “You used to play that piece with your eyes closed.”

Yn looked up, startled. “Papa, I didn’t know you were home.”

“I came back early,” he said, walking over and kneeling in front of her. “I heard you playing—or trying to.”

She looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not working. I can’t do it. My hand doesn’t listen anymore.”

Charles gently reached for her wrist, his thumb tracing over the thin scar that still curved softly near the base. “It’s not your hand that’s not listening, mon cœur. It’s your mind that’s scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she snapped, too quickly. Then sighed. “Okay. Maybe I am. I know the notes. I know the technique. But when I try to play, it’s like—nothing comes out. Like my fingers are... blocked.”

Charles nodded. “Do you remember when I crashed in Hungary? Back in 2021?”

Yn frowned. “Of course I do. You were so upset. You thought you had ruined everything.”

“I didn’t trust the car after that. Even when the engineers said it was fine, even when I was physically okay. I’d sit in it and feel like it was going to betray me again. My hands were ready. But my mind would tense up. And that... that made me slower.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, voice small. “My brain making me worse?”

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Your brain is trying to protect you from hurting again. But it’s using fear instead of trust.”

There was a long pause between them.

Then she whispered, “Mom said maybe I should just quit music. Focus on basketball instead.”

Charles blinked, taken aback. “She said that?”

Yn nodded. “She said maybe it’s a sign that music isn’t the right path. That basketball’s more practical, more... physical. That this injury proves I’m better suited to it.”

Charles sighed and sat beside her on the piano bench. “Your mom loves you. But she doesn’t know what music means to you. Not the way I do.”

“I yelled at her,” Yn murmured. “I got so mad. I told her she doesn’t get it. She said I was being dramatic.”

“Alexandra was wrong to say that,” he said gently. “You’re not dramatic, Yn. You’re passionate. There’s a difference. I’ve seen you with your cello. The way you lose yourself in it, how you breathe with every phrase. You don’t just play music. You feel it. That doesn’t just disappear.”

Yn stared at the piano, silent.

Charles reached out and opened the lid again. “Play something simple,” he said. “Forget Debussy for now. Start with something easy. Something you played when you were ten.”

“Why?” she asked warily.

“Because right now your mind is trying to perform instead of play. Go back to where it all started.”

She looked skeptical but nodded. Slowly, she placed her hands on the keys, searching for the old tune. “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” she muttered with a half-laugh.

“Perfect,” Charles smiled.

She began. The first few notes were hesitant. Her right hand fumbled at first, her pinky trembling with effort, but the left hand held steady. Halfway through, she messed up and hit a wrong note.

“Try again,” Charles said gently.

She did.

This time it sounded better.

She stopped. “This is so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. It’s rebuilding,” he said. “Do you know how many times I went back to karting circuits after a crash in F1? Sometimes, you have to go back to remember why you started.”

There was silence between them again, but it felt softer now. Yn shifted slightly closer, leaning her shoulder against him.

“Thanks, Papa.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’m always here, ma chérie. We’ll take it slow. One note at a time.”

That night, she didn’t touch the piano again—but she sat on the floor with her cello, cradling it in her arms like an old friend. She didn’t play. She just held it.

And Charles sat beside her the whole time, not saying a word.

The next day, she tried one note.

And the day after that, she tried two.

And Charles? He never missed a single practice.

Not even one.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-♡○♡

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