#except i'm not splitting it into a million one-shots | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saveregblackordie0726 · 9 months ago

Text

Sombre et Pur'

Chapter 6

Sixth Year – 1976

Tryouts were the next morning, and despite sleepless hours spent worrying about both flying and the prospect of patrolling Hogwarts with Regulus, I found a familiar surge of adrenaline as I stepped onto the pitch. Hufflepuffs were known for their loyalty and hard work – flashiness rarely won us matches, but sheer determination did.

The other contenders were decent, though none truly exceptional. I, however, was on fire. Years of practicing with Sirius and James made dodging Bludgers feel like second nature. I smacked a bludger with my club so hard I heard a satisfying crack as it sailed past our chaser.

The Hufflepuff captain, Katie Soileau, a solid seventh year with a perpetually overcast disposition, clapped enthusiastically. "Excellent hit, Clem! You've got real power behind that swing."

I grinned, relief washing over me. This part, at least, felt right. It was normal.

Yet, the specter of Regulus lingered in the back of my mind. We might be a million miles apart in our attitudes and allegiances, but one thing was clear – he wasn't one to shirk responsibility. If he said he'd meet me at the statue, he'd be there, a begrudgingly competent partner.

The thought offered little in the way of comfort. This year was going to be a battle on every front – in the classroom, on the Quidditch pitch, and it seemed, even in the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. And the most frustrating part of all? It felt like with every passing day, I was no longer sure which side of the fight I was supposed to be on.

The trek down the boathouse felt infinitely longer than usual. My legs burned in protest, and every inhale was a reminder of my overexertion. Yet, a familiar sense of anticipation pulsed through me. The boathouse, with its weathered wood and faint scent of lake water, was a common hideout for myself and the boys. It was a haven away from the bustling castle, where the only sound was the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional choked cough from Sirius or James while they snuck a spliff or two.

Sirius, James, and Peter were already there, stretched out on the sun beached dock. James was animatedly dissecting the latest Chudley Cannons match with a fervor bordering on religious zeal, his words a near incomprehensible blur of quidditch statistics and tactical analyses.

My arrival caused a brief pause in his commentary. “Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he announced, a grin splitting his tan face. “Tell me, Kit, are you about to claim your rightful place as the newest Hufflepuff beater?”

I dropped down onto the dock with a tired groan, ignoring the way the wood splinters dug into my sore muscles. “Maybe,” I replied, unable to suppress a smirk. “Soileau seemed impressed, but I'm going to be feeling this for days ...”

I stretched with a groan and laid back, resting my head on Pete’s lap. My muscles protested the change of position until I had fully relaxed.

Sirius, who’d been absently blowing smoke rings as he stared blankly out at the lake with a detached air, stirred to life. His stormy grey eyes, so like his brother's, yet carrying a different sort of intensity, fixed on me. “Did Katie give you a hard time?” he asked.

Katie Soileau, the new Hufflepuff Captain and team seeker was a regular force of nature both on and off the pitch, had a reputation among Gryffindors as being less than welcoming. But beneath the bluster, I knew she respected skill.

“No, Katie knows talent when she sees it.” James interjected before I could answer, a smirk playing on his lips. “Even if she is insufferable.”

My hand shot out and slapped him playfully in the arm. “Don’t start, Prongs.” I rolled my eyes.

I recounted the near-misses, the satisfying thwack of the bat connecting squarely with the Bludger, and even the humiliating moment where I took a tumble trying to dodge a particularly enthusiastic rouge ball. By the time I finished, the tension of the day had melted away, replaced by a bone-deep weariness and the warm glow of friendship.

“So tell me, Kit,” Peter piped up, breaking the comfortable silence, his hands absentmindedly sweeping through my hair. ‘what’s it like hanging out with the esteemed heir to the house of Black?”

The question hit me like an unexpected snowball. I could see the effect it had on Sirius as well, the way his back went rigid and his head subtly turned towards our conversation. The playful mood around the dock evaporated in an instant. It was no secret that the Black brothers were barely on speaking terms. Theirs was a long and complicated history that I only understood in fragments – whispered rumors, the occasional outburst from Sirius about family gatherings, and the lingering shadows in his eyes whenever the topic arose.

Instead of diving into the complexities of my shifting dynamic with my sister or alluding to the simmering tension between Sirius and Regulus, I opted for a deflection.

"I have patrols with him tonight." I sighed, the thought of the endless walk spent beside him draining my mood. "Poor Evans," James said, mock sympathy dripping from his voice. "Doomed to spend the evening with the resident Slytherin overlord. Try not to be seduced by his charm."

Sirius, who'd been staring out at the lake, shot upright. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – anger, hurt, maybe a mix of both – before he carefully masked his expression.

"Whatever," he muttered, his tone laced with a forced indifference that didn't quite ring true. He pushed himself off the dock, the wood creaking in protest, and wandered up the bank towards the castle. "I forgot I, uh, need to practice some spells for Flitwick."

The awkward silence that descended after his abrupt departure was almost suffocating. My gaze flitted between James, who was fiddling with a loose thread on his robe looking pointedly anywhere but at me, and Peter, whose expression was a mix of concern and a sort of helpless resignation.

It was Peter who broke the tense quiet. "He'll be alright, you know," he said softly. "He just… sometimes…" He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

I nodded, not because I truly believed it, but because it seemed like the only thing I could do. We finished the rest of the evening in a subdued sort of camaraderie, the unspoken rift between Sirius and his brother hanging heavy in the air.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After bidding goodnight to my dormmates later that night, I settled under a mountain of blankets on my bed, determined to make sense of our Professor’s cryptic divination notes. Dreams of swirling tea leaves and wonky crystal balls filled my head, but true understanding always seemed tantalizingly out of reach. Divination was, by far, my least favorite subject. Its frustrating combination of vague predictions and wildly inaccurate prophecies made Potions feel like an exact science by comparison.

Time slipped away with alarming speed as I tried to decipher garbled scribbles about the significance of the number thirteen and the potential perils of misaligned planets. A glance at the enchanted clock beside my bed jolted me out of my trance. With a gasp, I realized I was perilously close to being late for my dreaded patrol with Regulus.

Panic fueled a flurry of movement. Divination notes were hastily shoved into my bag, the crumpled pages a testament to my fruitless deciphering attempts. I kicked off my school robes, yanking on a pair of faded jeans and a worn borrowed Gryffindor sweatshirt with more haste than grace. My wand was tucked into the back pocket of my jeans – not exactly regulation, but I was starting to doubt that McGonagall and her love of rules were going to be my salvation this year. A last glance in the mirror revealed copper curls that stubbornly refused to cooperate and a pair of mismatched socks. I let out an exasperated sigh and shoved them haphazardly into my trainers. Perfection would have to wait.

With a frantic last check for my patrol schedule, I bolted from the dorm room, my worn-out trainers squeaking against the stone floor. The corridors were deserted, echoing slightly with each panicked footfall. The statue in the Transfiguration Courtyard loomed ever closer, a harsh reminder of my rapidly dwindling time.

As I burst onto the landing, I spotted Regulus, his pristine form leaning casually against the statue. He didn't look up from the parchment in his hands, but I could practically feel the disapproval radiating from him.

"Sorry I'm a bit late," I gasped out, breathless from my sprint across the castle. "Divination…" I trailed off, offering a half-hearted shrug by way of explanation.

Regulus didn't respond to my breathless apology, just tucked the parchment back into his robes with practiced ease. Internally, I groaned. My hopes for a quick, minimally-awkward patrol were dashed in that single, silent gesture. It was going to be a long night.

"Shall we?" he asked, his voice cold and flat. His eyes travelled to my sweater, a mocking smirk spreading across his face. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and began walking.

Scrambling to catch up, I found myself struggling to match his brisk pace. It was maddening. He moved with the effortless grace of someone who spent far too much time brooding in shadowy corners, while I felt like a clumsy hippogriff attempting its first flight. A flare of irritation bubbled beneath the surface. It wasn't just the patrol itself that was the problem; it was him. The way he carried himself, the barely-concealed disdain in his eyes, it all grated on my nerves.

After what felt like an eternity of silence punctuated only by the echo of our footsteps, Regulus finally spoke. "This route is incredibly inefficient," he declared, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice. "We'll double back twice before we reach the Astronomy Tower."

I bristled. I knew this castle like the back of my hand, every hidden passageway and shortcut etched into my memory from years of exploration with my friends. "It's fine," I retorted, trying to keep the bite out of my tone. "It's the route I always use."

His answering laugh was devoid of any amusement. "While these might be the routes you and your delinquent friends use to get around, the more efficient route is through the West Wing, cutting past the Charms Corridor." His tone dripped with condescension.

My annoyance flared into full-blown anger. "Look, if you know the castle so well, why don't you just lead?" I snapped, my control slipping.

For just a moment, surprise flashed across his face. Then, a smirk – a cold, cruel twist of his lips that made my blood boil – curved across his features. "As you wish, Evans," he said smoothly.

He took off down a shadowy corridor I'd barely noticed before, his long strides forcing me into an ungainly half-jog to keep up. Of course he'd choose a route I'd never traveled, just another way to remind me I was the bumbling Hufflepuff and he was the all-knowing Slytherin.

We walked for what felt like hours. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft rustle of our robes and the distant hoot of an owl. The atmosphere was so thick with animosity I began to wonder if some sort of malevolent poltergeist had decided to torment us.

To break the unbearable tension, I cleared my throat. "So," I began and immediately regretted it. "How's… how's Slytherin? Enjoying the new sixth-year dorms?"

The question was pathetically lame, even for me. Regulus didn't even bother to dignify it with a response, simply continuing his march through dimly lit passages I barely recognized.

The urge to ask the questions that burned inside me was nearly overwhelming. What was it like to have your brother turn his back on your family? How did you sleep at night knowing the darkness that festered in those ancient halls? But something stopped me, a strange cocktail of pride and a self-preservation instinct that warned me the answers would only lead to more conflict.

The remainder of the patrol was torture. With each corner we turned, each flight of stairs we climbed, I found myself further away from the familiar comforts and easy camaraderie of my own life. The air felt colder, the shadows a little deeper. Yet, even amidst the discomfort, a strange sort of understanding began to take root. Patrolling with Regulus was never going to be an exercise in pleasantries or cheerful banter. Our shared duty wasn't about forming a connection, it was about fulfilling our roles in this increasingly dangerous game we were all forced to play.

He was right about one thing, though – his route was far more efficient. We managed to cover the entire patrol area in record time, with minimal detours to avoid particularly grumpy ghosts. As we arrived back at the Transfiguration Courtyard, a sliver of grudging respect stirred within me.

Regulus turned to face me, his eyes glinting in the dim moonlight.

"Same time, next week, Evans?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

I stifled a sigh. "Don't be late." It was as close to a concession as I was going to get.

With a raise of one of his perfectly arched brows and a curt nod, he melted back into the shadows, leaving me alone with the lingering echo of his footsteps.

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room felt like an uphill battle. My legs, already screaming in protest from the day's Quidditch tryouts, were now burdened by the added weight of exhaustion and the lingering tension of my patrol with Regulus. Each step was a conscious effort, every twist and turn of the castle's labyrinthine corridors a reminder of just how far from home I felt.

As I passed the flickering torches that lined the walls, my reflection wavered in the dancing light. Smudges of dirt stained my face, my hair had long escaped its haphazard ponytail, and the mismatched socks peeked out from beneath my trainers – a testament to my hasty departure for patrol. I looked every bit the disheveled Hogwarts student battling exhaustion and navigating a world that felt increasingly out of joint.

Finally, the familiar warmth of the Hufflepuff common room beckoned. The cheerful yellow walls and overstuffed armchairs were a far cry from the austere elegance of the Slytherin dungeons or the bold chaos of the Gryffindor tower. Here, kindness always took precedence over cleverness or bravado. Yet, tonight, even the cozy atmosphere couldn't fully dispel the lingering unease.

Instead of ascending the spiral staircase towards my dormitory, I made my way to the small tea set near the large fireplace that was charmed to always stay full and warm. A simmering kettle and a tray of half-eaten biscuits awaited, a testament to the ever-thoughtful house elves. With hands that trembled slightly, I poured myself a steaming cup of chamomile tea, the warmth radiating through the chipped ceramic and into my chilled fingers.

As I sipped the sweet, floral brew, my mind replayed the events of the evening. The satisfying whoosh of the bludger narrowly missing my head, Sirius's conflicted expression, Regulus's icy stare… It was all too much. With a defeated sigh, I surrendered. I didn't have the energy to change or decipher my Divination notes or even brush my teeth. Crawling onto my bed, I burrowed under the patchwork quilt that had been a welcome gift on my first day at Hogwarts. The scent of lavender and worn cotton was strangely comforting. With the last vestiges of my waning resolve, I managed to nudge my trainers off my feet, a final token offering to the gods of aching muscles.

Sleep washed over me in a relentless tide, pulling me into its inky depths. Dreams of swirling tea leaves, Bludgers the size of Quaffles, and a pair of mismatched grey-green eyes danced behind my eyelids. Even in the sanctuary of sleep, the world of Hogwarts, with all its contradictions and complexities, refused to release its hold on me.

#regulus black #regulus deserved better #sirius and regulus #regulus black x oc #regulus x oc #regulus x hufflepuff reader #regulus x reader #regulus x you #regulus black x you #original character #the maruaders

8 notes · View notes

macravishedbymactavish · 2 years ago

Text

Logan Walker x F!Reader

TW for everyone being traumatized following the canon Ghosts ending, swearing, mentions of injury and violence, more angst in this chapter than usual

Chapter 03

Things were still far from normal, but taking small steps in the right direction. Since he let you peek through the cracks of the barricades he put up on his soul -- you've noticed him around base a lot more. Giving you small smiles, nods, and acknowledges you again.

It doesn't mean you still don't yearn to have him back. To hug and be hugged from behind, to sneak small kisses when nobody is around. To be tangled under the coverings, laughing about what you could possibly name your future children.

You've been wearing the sweater he left for you every night to bed. Except after a week of wear, it stopped smelling like him and slowly became another addition to your wardrobe. Part of you was growing increasingly concerned that you wouldn't be able to sleep without the sweater one day. The other part didn't care. If this was the last thing you got from him, it was to be cherished. It was still warm, still soft, still a reminder that he's coming back to you.

"Please take a seat" your heart all but stopped at Merrick's words.

The commander avoiding eye contact, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. You felt the gaze of the sniper on you as he stood in the corner behind you, unmoving. Silent.

"I'm fine standing," you cursed your voice for shaking. You knew from the moment you returned to base that something was wrong. You, Keegan, and team Echo were to defend the carrier while Merrick and the Walker brothers were on their own mission.

"High profile, need to know basis" Logan explained the night before this deployment, holding you against his side as the two of you laid in the dark the night before you two split up. Assigned to different missions. "If Dad could see us now"

"He'd be so proud of you Lo. Proud of the both of you." Elias would be over the moon seeing his sons carry out a mission of this extent. Both following in his foot steps.

You knew something was different. Something went wrong the moment you returned to base earlier today. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the atmosphere thick, passing whispers you could only catch pieces of.

"Shot in the chest"

"Not dead"

"Ballsy as fuck"

Your shoulders tense, hands balled into fists as Merrick finally looked up at you. Pain inhabiting his features -- fuck.

"As of 1900 yesterday, Logan Walker has been pronounced a prisoner of war." You swore your heart stopped. Your senses becoming slightly numb, your hearing muffled as if you were listening from underwater.

You were drowning.

"How?" Keegan asked, voice sounding a million miles away, despite him being right beside you now.

"Rorke" your attention snapped back to the man in front of you. No, it couldn't be "he was thought to be dead in the train crash. We were wrong. He came back and took Logan."

"And Hesh?" You envied how calm your friend remained, how stoic he could hold himself despite everything you've all been through.

"Took a round to the chest, currently sedated in medical," the older man paused, looking between you two. He knew Keegan long enough to understand the small gives in his stoic persona, while the pain was evident across your face.

"Right now, we heal up. Get back to 100%, then we plan on how to bring Logan home. We have all our global contacts keeping eyes and ears open for anything that could lead us to him or Rorke. Do either of you have any questions?" Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry in front of your team.

"Request to leave, sir," you whispered. Lungs burning as you felt like someone just punched you in the gut.

"Request granted, are you --" you didn't let him finish before turning and rushing out of the room. Making it halfway down the hall before stopping to take a shaky breath.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you, followed by your nickname being called out softly. A hand rested on your shoulder, urging you to turn around.

"Are you going to be alright?" You know he chose this question instead of "are you okay?". In this moment, nobody was okay, including himself.

"Uh...I" You whispered, running a hand over your face as you shifted your gaze to anywhere but his.

"I'm...I think I'm going to go and take a nap. Because this has got to be a nightmare that I'm bound to wake up from. " You felt your hands shake, your legs on the verge of collapsing underneath the weight of the heartache.

The tears finally fell when you made the mistake of eye contact. Seeing the same pain hidden behind stoic blue eyes. Fighting back a sob, you continued.

"Because there is no way I can handle this" your voice small, "there is no way I can even imagine this life without him. Let alone live it". You bit your lip, holding back a sob. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath.

Without missing a beat, you were being pulled into a hug. Any other person you would've been throwing hits; but you knew his physical contact was reserved for moments when it was truly needed.

"Please. Just let me go home". You sobbed against Keegan's shoulder.

Home. Could you even consider it that anymore? Given the news. Your home was missing, prisoner of war. You're going back to a house.

"Call me if you need anything. Any time, for anything. Please." You heard his voice break, knowing he was terrified. In 3 short months, he's lost 3 teammates he considered family, one currently in medical with severe injuries, and one destroyed right in front of him right now.

Jerking yourself awake, you willed your heart rate to slow down. Out of all the nightmares, this had to be the worst. The worst moment of your life replaying over again.

The day you lost him.

You rubbed at your chest, hoping it would alleviate the ache deep inside. Imagine how much easier life would be if you just never met him. You wondered that a lot at first, considering he wouldn't have been yours to lose if he was never yours initially. But in the same breath you reminded yourself of all the things you wouldn't have experienced if you never knew the shy Walker kid.

The swell of pride in your chest when you made him laugh the first time (a full body laugh that left you both in tears), the way he asked you out in such a shy tone (later admitting that he was terrified you would reject him, and he would have to fake his death and move to the arctic), the nights spent stargazing and making up constellations, the first time he told you how much you meant to him.

In hindsight, every ounce of pain was and is worth every second you spend with Logan. It always will be.

Your mind now wide awake and racing. You pulled yourself from the bed and wandered through the dark halls to the kitchen. Debating on whether to make a tea and try to sleep, or brew coffee, admit defeat, and start your day.

Being so focused on the internal argument between the exhausted and awake sides of your brain, you initially didn't realize the figure sitting in the corner. Staring out the window with a mug of his own.

"Nightmare?" You jumped, relaxing slightly when your eyes focused on the source of the voice. Just Logan.

"That obvious?" You raised an eyebrow before turning your attention to the cupboards, deciding on tea and sleep as the moon was still high in the sky. "What about you? Lurking in the dark." This was your life for the foreseeable future. Making small talk with the person you would go to the ends of the earth for.

It was a selfish thought, which was followed by selfish goals. Killing the asshole who broke him.

"Been off duty and most training since I've been back. Not a whole lot to do honestly besides sleep, eat, and read, " he shrugged, eyes scanning all over your back.

"You need a hobby," you teased. "That doesn't involve Riley," you gestured down to the dog who was sleeping at his feet.

With a slightly amused look, "then I guess I won't be inviting you to his next show dog competition. He's the prettiest pup around." That caught you off guard, causing you to burst out laughing louder than you expected to. Quickly pressing a hand over your mouth, listening to Logan shush you with a soft chuckle of his own you turned back to your tea.

"You could always raise goats" you shrugged, jumping slightly when you heard a laugh from right beside you. He's so quiet you didn't realize he got up.

He began grabbing your favourite additions to the drink, handing them to you silently, smile lighting up his features as he humored your suggestion in his head. He stayed standing with you, even after your tea was done. Close enough where his shoulder rested against yours. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, both drinking your respective drinks before he spoke up.

"I'm not sure if I ever want to do this again" your heartrate sped up at the thought that this could be the last night you have with your love.

"No, shit. I mean training and missions" a pained sigh, a small glimpse of the argument going on inside his head. "Coming back, I know how different it is for everyone".

"We don't fault you for it. We love you" you mumbled, fighting that nagging feeling again. To pull him into your arms and tell him everything would be okay. You instead took a sip of your drink, glancing sideways to study his features.

"But everyone isn't okay. Even though you're all trying it's different" you felt a shaky arm go across your shoulders, pulling you into his side. From this proximity to felt his heart hammering inside his chest, his body shaking with adrenaline. Placing your tea down, you reached up and held the hand hanging from your shoulder.

"Part of me wonders if I was worse at my job, would the ending be the same? They....he kept telling me how good my skillset would be, how I'd be "one helluva ghost" had things turned out differently for him years ago.....everyone kept talking about how I was best of the best" your heart broke at how small his voice was by the end.

"Part of me doesn't want to risk it. If I lose all my skill and become a professional dog trainer or join the K9 unit, then everyone will be safe if they find me. If they try to use me, " You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling him squeeze you tighter in this side hug. "Or....I raise goats somewhere"

"Whatever you decide to do moving forward, I support you. I'd follow you anywhere. The guys will support you. Everyone supports you." While some may not understand at first, almost everyone on base would be supportive of anything he decides to do at this point. Everyone just relieved to have him back home.

You stayed cuddled into his side, in silence. Letting him feel the emotions he needed to while not being alone, and letting your body relax against his side. Enjoying the warmth and familiarity of the close proximity.

"Hey love, don't fall asleep just yet. You're not quite at your bed yet" he whispered, nudging you. Smiling at the small groan of protest you let out. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room." Cups placed in the sink, you followed him out of the room. Falling in step together.

The walk was silent, your hands brushing against each other as you walked. It reminded you of the time before you two started dating. The small, innocent gestures of him desperately trying to convey his feelings for you.

Baby steps, he's slowly coming around again. He's opening up to you.

"Here you are" his voice broke you out of your thoughts. His hands now stuffed into his pockets as he watched you unlock the door, bidding him a good sleep.

"Wait!" he quickly stopped you from fully entering the room, reaching down to the bottom of his sweater and lifting it over his head.

"Trade?" He smirked, holding it out to you, watching as your skin flushed. Remembering you had nothing on underneath the current sweater. "Or...keep both" he chuckled. Understanding your embarrassment right away. Thinking back to the first time he realized t-shirts and tank tops weren't allowed if you wore sweaters to bed; and how long of a night that turned into.

"Thank you. You clutched the new sweater tightly, taking in the sight of him in his pain black tee.

"Goodnight sweetheart" he whispered, slowly reaching out to pull you into a hug. A real one. You quickly returned the gesture, arms around his slim waist as your face was buried in his chest. "Thank you" you swear you heard him whisper against your hair.

For a moment, you were home.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @ai-luni

#call of duty ghosts #logan walker #logan walker x reader #cod logan #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ #cod merrick #thomas merrick

68 notes · View notes

vidreview · 5 months ago

Text

VIDEO ESSAY ROUNDUP #6 [PART 2]

[originally posted august 1st 2024 NOTE: while migrating the archive from cohost i've discovered that tumblr has a 10 link-block limit, which means i have to split some of these roundups up in order to maintain the embeds. we love websites don't we folks]

"New Zelda isn't Zelda" by Eroymak.

youtube

it's novel to see one of these shot in the mountains! vibes like a younger, ganglier nakeyjakey. i like to imagine that there's an escalating war of spectacle happening between white outdoorsy middle-class nerds all trying to one-up each other by casually filming an otherwise anodyne video essay in increasingly precarious locales. how long until a 22 year old DJ from Wisconsin dies on the slopes of Everest trying to film an essay about Mario 1-1? who's going to be the first human being to levy a citation-heavy critique of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead while skydiving? how long until Shiey accidentally loses Jacob Geller down an abandoned mine shaft? anyway, Eroymak is extremely correct here about what makes modern Zelda games a drag, namely that their "go anywhere do anything" attitude ruins the sense of progression that once defined the franchise. i worry about this with the upcoming Echoes of Wisdom, which seems to be applying the Of The games' open toolset philosophy to the 2D Zelda template, but i digress. for being only 7 minutes and 20 seconds, this is a pretty succinct and broadly comprehensive summation of why the open world Zeldas lack a certain magic that was once so easily flaunted by their forebears.

"so that's why they cut all her scenes from the movie" by CinemaStix.

youtube

i've seen CinemaStix videos in my recommended feed multiple times and avoided them like the plague. i mean, come on. "CinemaStix"? at a glance this conjures a monstrous Third-Way chimera betwixt CinemaSins and CinemaWins, and i would sooner stave my own head in with a rock than give such a thing the time of day. EXCEPT… Constantine 2005 is one of my favorite comic book movies. i saw it in theaters and it changed me. in the years since, i've defended Constantine's honor from the haters to little avail (thankfully the tides have turned in recent years and people are realizing that they totally missed the second-best John Wick movie), and it's top of my list of fun movies to show guests when we're bored. this special interest overrode my kneejerk book-cover judgment survival mechanism, and i'm so mad that i don't regret it. this video is about the editing of Constantine 2005, and how many of the film's iconic moments were constructed in post. as the title suggests, a substantial amount of time is spent trying to understand why an entire character was ultimately cut, a question that's also plagued me ever since watching the deleted scenes on the DVD in 10th grade. whether you've seen Constantine 2005 or not, this is an excellent portrait of editing as a substantive authorial process. i've since gone and watched multiple CinemaStix videos, and god damn it, these are some quality essays. sometimes popular things are good, she said grumpily.

"Conservative Comedy Ruined My Life" by Big Joel.

youtube

oops, can you tell this vidrev roundup has been sitting in my drafts for a long time? this video came out on April 2nd of 2024 and has nearly 2.5 million views, so i won't belabor the point. this is a great deconstruction of conservative comedy that looks hard into why so much of it sucks beyond the empty platitudes endemic to smarmy liberals. it's some of Big Joel's best work in my opinion.

"On Online Entitlement" by CJ The X.

youtube

an excellent autopsy of the rhetorical implications of an overly familiar instagram comment-- a description that i know probably sounds obnoxious, but genuinely is not the case. Mx. The X goes to great lengths to assure us that this is not about the person who left the comment, but the various attitudes and assumptions that are implied in its construction. gen z essayists in particular seem to specialize in this sort of editorial post-game breakdown of the things people say when they think they're saying something else, and i think they're always worth paying attention to. consider this something of a downstream epilogue to Shannon Strucci's seminal Fake Friends series. even as i don't always agree with the totality of their conclusions, i do always come away from CJ The X videos feeling like i've learned something about how i and other internet-dwelling social animals think.

"How Uber Is Destroying Food Delivery" by More Perfect Union.

youtube

More Perfect Union is not typically in the business of video essays, focusing more on feature stories that heavily rely on interviews and on-the-ground reporting. this one's a unique development in that it is just straight up a video essay, using the business model of Uber as an avenue for understanding Corey Doctorow's theory of platform decay (except he calls it Enshittification because god forbid 21st century materialist philosophy grow out of its twee blogosphere adolescence). if you know the theory then there's probably not gonna be much here that surprises you, but i felt it a notable inclusion nevertheless.

do you have recommendations for video essays i might not have seen, new or old? well my askbox is open and i'm always looking for ways to penetrate my experiential-algorithmic youtube bubble. hope you found something enjoyable in this collection, see you in the next one!

<- ROUNDUP #5

#vidrev #video essay #video essay review #video recommendation #zelda #eroymak #cinemastix #constantine 2005 #big joel #conservative comedy #cj the x #more perfect union #Youtube

5 notes · View notes

favesgrave · 2 years ago

Note

tell me everything about your tf fic and continuity i am sitting here rubbing my hands waiting

literally anything. what do you like most about it. what excites you. go off king

omg ripoff mtmte/ll polaris adventure time!!!

so polaris is a ship. that's only the placeholder name for it, i'm still trying to find one i REAAALLY like

near the end of the war, there was this really intense battle at the spacebridge and the allspark was at the center of it. the autobots were trying to get it away from the decepticons and jetfire was carrying it, ready to fly through the spacebridge right when a poorly aimed shot hits the bridge instead of him right when he enters and then the whole thing explodes. jetfire's life signal goes offline, the signature of the allspark is lost. this event was what finally caused megatron and optimus to declare the war over. their planet had suffered enough and without the allspark, things would only grow worse if they continued fighting.

things are pretty rocky after that. even with both leaders agreeing to end things, peace can be hard to achieve after fighting for so long. people are even more discouraged without the allspark. except for some, like nightbeat. he doesn't understand how something so powerful can just be destroyed so quickly. he starts doing some research, gets some help from his scientist friend proxima, then does more of his own stuff before reaching a breakthrough. he's able to discover energy signals that are a near-perfect match for the allspark with only some slight deviations. regardless, something like that can't be ignored. if there's a chance the allspark can be recovered, they have to take it!! he tells his buddies proxima and hardhead first (i made nightbeat and hardhead friends because hardhead shot him that one time in idw and i thought it'd be funny)

then they tell optimus and he tells megatron. after that, a mission gets created. nightbeat gets to captain a ship that will set off to retrieve all these allspark fragments. the catch is that autobots and decepticons are free to volunteer for the mission. if they cant work together on something as important as this then geez guys We Really Are Fucked™

characters on board this ship are: nightbeat, hound, chromia, hardhead, blurr, proxima, first aid, pipes, honk (they're actually a stowaway), punch/counterpunch, shadelock, dead end, browning, squawktalk, acceleron, and javelin. there would probably be more but also they like. wouldn't be that important.

they'd try to quantum jump to the first allspark fragment and discover that it doesn't work. they try again. and again. and then a fourth time just for extra measure, each time with a different fragment location. something's preventing them from getting there immediately. nightbeat gets excited because that means the allspark has some kind of defense system. how far does this go?? is it sentient? can it do more in its broken state??? there's so much to discover!!! then he realizes "wait this isn't exactly a good thing. this might take a lot longer than i thought"

since velocitron's close by, they stop by there to refuel real quick. velocitron was lucky enough to never be affected by the war. they closed down their spacebridge and basically went "bye fuckers" for millions of years and did their own thing. so when their regular scheduled programming gets interrupted by these bots and cons who are distrustful of each other they're like "wowzers you guys look like you got hit by an asteroid"

they're pretty quick about their business there and are well on their way when chromia discovers honk hiding. naturally she sees this little guy and is like "??? who the fuck are you???" but they're allowed to stay. they become besties with pipes and get adopted by blurr and hardhead. it's great

okay but back to more of the plot. airachnid is a main antag in the story. she has vehicons and various decepticons under her command. you see, a lot of decepticons eventually split off and did their own thing. she was one of them. she comes into possession of an allspark fragment. having just one grants her a ton of benefits and as a collector, she thinks it'd be fun to get ALL of them. i've been thinking about introducing soundblaster too. he overhears some radio chatter about the whole thing and wants in. he's also got his own faction and outpost

it's a race for the allspark shards complete with bonding and side quests and terror and even some possible character death!!! it's a very fun ride

#deadlysoupy #transformers severance #transformers fan continuity #transformers fc #fan continuity #tf fan continuity #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #nightbeat #transformers nightbeat #nightbeat transformers

8 notes · View notes

oneofthosesimps · 4 years ago

Text

God knows I tried

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 7983

summary: reader comes to paradise with yelena and the others. although you are marleyan, you want to fight for the eldian. at the beginning you experience harsh rejection before levi develops feelings for you

warnings: SPOILER season 4, first time, angst, fluff, smut, harsh words

authors note: i got the idea from a request (although i interpreted it completely different and wrong, i'm sorry (still)). well, i want to elaborate and develop my writing skills a bit, which is why i'm trying out a bit at the moment. that's why i focused less on smut and more on conveying feelings. i hope you like it and once again, i'll write the story again with the theme of the actual request and more smut (it's on my list)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Bev-Nap

-----

You feel out of place, even though you have fought so long to sit right here. Not only the icy stares of your opposite but also the tense posture of your comrades give you exactly that feeling. A silence overcomes you at the table, while you can hear the sound of metal and ammunition. You dare not lift your eyes and instead look at the cup in your hands. The tent is filled with the scent of black tea, which blends with the sound of chirping crickets to create a symphony of summer, if only it wasn't so cold. A heavy stone rests on your chest and a nervousness creeps through your body that you have rarely felt before. Your warrior heart is a wrinkled mess and you are surprised at yourself for the thoughts that are floating through your head right now. It has been a long time since you felt so small. Your gaze lifts slightly and your eyes fall on folded arms. You can see veins on his hands, winding along under his skin. They follow the contours of his muscles, which are hidden under his jacket. Wings emblazon one of his shoulders and right above his heart and you eye the beautiful symbol before your eyes travel even higher.

Frozen iron looks at you and a shiver runs down your spine. His half-closed eyes are partially covered by his black hair and yet hatred shines through them. You are paralysed for a moment before you pull away and look at the woman beside him instead. You hold your breath as she looks curiously down the barrel of the loaded pistol and your right fingers clutch the porcelain in your hand. If a shot were fired now, she would also lose her remaining sight.

A broad grin settles on her face, which is bathed in a warm orange by the lamp above you, reflecting through the lenses of her glasses, "Oh, I see. So you can shoot multiple times with it." She is wearing the same clothes as Levi and inwardly you wonder what the wing symbol is all about.

Your gaze wanders to the left and you look at the tall, blonde woman. Yelena's features are soft and you admire her for her courage and composure. If she is insecure, she has that feeling hidden deep within her and doesn't let it show through. Her eyes glance at the cup in her hand as she eyes the dark liquid, "Those are Marleyan soldiers' standard equipment." Hange's fascination does not abate and she turns the weapon from right to left.

Yelena's hand grips the handle of the cup before she takes a small sip and sets it down again, "Each Marleyan's army divisions consists of about 20,000 soldiers. There are 50 divisions in total, making around a million of them."

The brown-haired woman's face slips and you can see the surprise and shock in them. Slowly she lowers the firearm and places it on the table.

"In addition to that, they possess three fleets consisting of 21 battle ships. They've also seen incredible progress with new weapons including aerial military capabilities," Yelena continues, briefly fixing her gaze on the pistol before catching Hange's eye.

"...Aerial?" You can hear the tremor in her voice and light beads of sweat settle on her forehead. Small wrinkles form around her lips. A second later she yelps as Levi nudges her with his foot and leans towards her. His voice is low as he talks to her and you exchange brief glances with Onyankopon. His large dark eyes look at you as confused as you feel and your brow furrows. His eyes turn back to the two people opposite you and he clears his throat, "So in other words, mobile weapons that can go beyond seas and walls, and drop the enemy from the sky." His explanation seems to strike a chord with Hange and she jumps to her feet. Her chair scrapes across the floor before toppling backwards with a thud. She slams her palms down on the table and leans her upper body towards you, "They'll come from the sky?!"

Despite her joyful enthusiasm, this little phrase leaves a bitter note. Suddenly you realise again how terribly sad this situation is. Such things are normality for people on the mainland. Guns and flying ships are technologies that have been around for a long time. The whole world uses them, except for a small island in the middle of the sea. Hange has never seen such things in her life, nor have the rest of the people in this camp and within the walls. Although they are the same people, they live such different lives.

Your mouth goes dry and you take a big sip of your tea, almost burning your tongue. The feeling mixes with the pain in your chest and your heart tightens. So much has gone wrong, so much you now have to fix and undo. The weight on your shoulders seems to crush you as you continue to look to Hange, not letting on.

She leans forward even further and her face becomes thoughtful, "Marley has all that wonderful power, yet they haven't launched a proper attack on us for almost a year, why is that?"

Yelena's expression remains unchanged, "There are two main reasons." She takes her time with her words, thinking them over as she takes another sip of the dark tea. After setting the cup down she continues to speak, "The first reason is the Pure Titans that they unleashed on this island. Their existences make it hard for them to get here, even with the latest weapons. It was originally a policy meant to confine the Eldians inside the walls. However, it ended up protecting Eldian from attack."

For the first time you hear his deep voice. It sounds like dark strong honey and nestles around you. You feel as if the vibration is making the tent wall shake and goosebumps settle over you, "Seems like it. Quite ironic, I must say." He adds a snort to the end of that sentence and looks disdainful.

Yelena smiles dryly at him for a moment before lowering her gaze and breaking eye contact, "However, the day is about to break. The Titans should be active soon. Yet, we're still leisurely drinking tea here outside the wall. That means you have killed all the pure Titans on the island. Would that be correct?"

Levi's body tenses almost imperceptibly as his clothes cover much of it, but you see that his shoulders are getting even broader. The veins on his hand that you noticed earlier stand out more and you feel an electricity emanating from him. His face shows no movement and he keeps a straight face, "So what? Are you going to somehow inform Marley about it?"

This is the first time you would like to say something to convince him that you have come with good intentions and that he can trust you. But deep down you know for a reason that it will probably take the longest with him - if he will ever trust you at all.

Yelena stares at him and you can see a small smirk curl her lips, "No, It's wonderful."

Only by Levi's eyebrows can you tell he's slightly surprised as the furrow between them gets a little deeper and darker. His body tension doesn't change as he glares at you with dark eyes while Hange's right hand becomes a fist, "What's the second reason?" Her gaze wanders back and forth between the three of you.

"Marley is currently in a state of war with multiple countries," Yelena explains, "In other words, they got bigger thing to deal with. You guys have defeated Marley's trusted Warrior unit. You guys also took the Colossal Titan and the Female Titan, their key weapons. Marley is a country with many enemies. So other countries came together in a blink of an eye and then the war began."

Your gaze falls to the weapon on the wooden table and images of war run through your head. Goosebumps forms on your skin as the sound of guns being fired echoes through your head and you shake slightly. Your breathing changes through your quickening heart and you feel Levi's eyes on you for a split second.

"So that means you guys are the people of losing countries with grudges against Marley. And you infiltrated the army as some sort of intelligence agent?" The air around you thickens and grows heavier and Yelena closes her mouth. You see a small change of temper in her before you stare at Hange. Seconds pass and no one says anything before a small, happy sound comes from the brunette and she smiles broadly at you, "Oh, was that a bullseye? As I thought, you guys must have convincing enough motives and backers to betray Marley like that."

Yelena's hand tightens around her cup and Onyankopon and you do likewise. Again your heart tightens and you lower your gaze. Unnecessary guilt creeps from the depths of your soul to the brightness and spreads through your body. How many people, how many women and men and children have lost their lives? Why are you, of all people, sitting here? What can you contribute? Questions and questions swirl in your head and you literally drown in the wave that drives them.

Your thoughts almost overwhelm you Yelena's voice comes through to you, "We lost our homeland to Marley and join their army as conscripts. We're weak. We also start losing hope in opposing such a big nation. It is until we're guided by him."

Something warm mingles with the tension and darkness as her posture changes and all tension falls from her. Her chin lifts and she looks up into the brightness of the lamp above her, literally making her eyes glow. A slight smile settles on her face as her eyes glaze over, "Marley and the world feared the Titans as devils. However, it looked like something else to me. A god." At these words, she jolts and a shiver runs down your spine. Sometimes Yelena seems like a believer, as if she has seen something that is still hidden from the rest of you. In such moments you notice again how different your drives are, although you are striving for the same goal. Deep down, however, she sometimes frightens you, even if you would never admit it, but she seemed like an addict on the way to her redemption. "He gave us hope when we're at our weakest," she continues and for a moment she seems to float above the tent before coming back to the here and now and lapsing back to normality, "We shot our superior under the orders of Zeke Yeager. We're the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. Our goal is to free the Eldian people."

"By betraying your own people?", Levi's voice echoes again through the small cloth fenced room and your eyes shoot to him. With the corners of his mouth pulled down, he meets you and you almost choke on your own saliva. Your hands form into fists and your eyebrows draw together.

"She has proven herself often enough. Her background may be different, but we fight for the same goal," Yelena's unimpressed voice pre-empts yours, but the tension between you does not subside. Instead, sparks of anger almost fly out of you. Your self-doubt has just been pulled out of you and laid bare on the table for all to see. It is raging inside you. Hange's gaze also falls on you and she examines your presence, which seems small next to Onyankopon's and especially Yelena's, from top to bottom. "Why is someone from Marley fighting for Eldia?"

Yes, why does anyone do that? Why does one fight alongside the supposed enemy to support their plans? Why do you act wholeheartedly against all that has been impressed upon you all your life?

Your nails dig into your palms and you grit your teeth, "I do not betray my people. I betray those who lead my people."

The memory mixes with the swirl of hot water in front of you. The liquid spreads in the small porcelain vessel and nestles around the leaves, which immediately begin to smell at your touch. Warm steam wets your face and makes the rest of your body shiver.

"Don't worry so much, will you?" says Niccolo from his place at the counter and raises his head. He tilts it slightly and smiles at you. His dark eyes sparkle at you across the room as his blond hair falls wildly across his forehead. It's a stark contrast to the storm going on outside. You return his gaze with a slight smile before he turns his attention back to the vegetables in front of him. The sound of steady chopping movements fills the room and you glance back at the teapot. A sigh falls from your lips and you support yourself with both hands on the countertop.

"That's easier said than done, Niccolo. You know me."

"Yes, I know you and that's why I'm sure you have nothing to worry about".

A soft huff comes out of your mouth and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, sure. That's easy for you to say, Eldian."

His head lifts again and he looks into your eyes with slightly furrowed brows, "I mean it, Marleyan". You pucker the corners of your mouth slightly at that name. Although that is exactly the right name for you, you don't identify with it. The word has a negative connotation and tends to bring bad qualities with it. And that is not you. You are not Marleyan, you are just and simply you.

His face looks more unhappy and he seems thoughtful before a smile settles over his lips again, “I trust you, we trust you and they do too. You've done so much in your time here and even before. Don't be so critical of yourself."

Your eyes fall back to the pot in front of you and you place the lid over the opening. With a push, you push yourself off the counter and cross your arms in front of your chest, "You're right.”

"Of course, I am," he smirks. His radiance continues to fill the room and his warmth reaches you, flooding you and your little heart, and your lips pull up slightly as well. Niccolo is to be envied for his positive nature. He is by far one of the nicest people you have ever had the pleasure of meeting in your life and a truly true friend. Perhaps his nature is also the reason why he is such a good cook. His nimble fingers allow his thoughts and emotions to seep into his food and every bite has a piece of his soul in it.

"I mean, you and Sasha are the best example of what can become of two opposing camps." You hear an uneven cut and see him wince slightly. His cheeks turn pink and a grin spreads across your face. He puts the knife down and places his right hand on the back of his neck, nervously stroking his hair, "Yeah, you think so?"

"Who doesn't?" the tips of his ears turn pink too. He looks cute.

"My food is just good. That's the real reason Sasha comes."

You snort. "No, Sasha comes for your food as well. But I'm sure there's another, bigger point that's much more important." Again, a smile curls his lips and he looks happy.

"I envy you for that," you murmur, your expression changing slightly. A tide of sadness settles over you, leaving your body shivering.

"Envy me? But for what?"

"I just wish I could get along with them as well. I wish I had a significant other too."

Now comes a snort from Niccolo. Surprised, you look at him and he shakes his head, "Yes, I have Sasha. But you have someone else for that". As you continue to look confused, he takes the towel from his shoulder and throws it on the countertop. "Don't act like that. I've seen the looks on his face. Don't pretend you don't know who and what I'm talking about."

You tear open your eyes and your breath catches in your throat. Immediately a heat rises to your face as you understand who he is talking about and a deep blush settles over your cheeks, far surpassing his.

"I-I don't know what you mean," you stammer to yourself as your face gets even hotter and it is now time for Niccolo to grin at you. "N-no, you've got it wrong. Levi and I ... we ... this is absolutely nothing."

"So Levi, huh?" You slap yourself for saying his first name so carelessly.

"The captain and I," you begin again, "there is nothing. I don't think there could be anything with anyone either. You know him, he's a cold lump of ice." You look down at your feet on the floor, "besides, he hates Marley and I can't even blame him."

A silence settles over you before you hear footsteps. As Niccolo puts his hand on your shoulder, you lift your gaze again and warm brown looks at you. "That may be, but I can tell you one thing: I can clearly see that he doesn't hate you".

"You think so, huh?" you bite your lower lip, unable to suppress the flutter of wings from the butterflies in your stomach. He squeezes your shoulder lightly with his hand, "I mean it, yes."

You mirror his soft smile, but it doesn't reach your heart. Maybe Niccolo is right in what he says, but it was rather unlikely and your body can't imagine Levi feeling this way. Your head tells you that's not the case. You are alone.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts and he drops his arm. The wooden door opens with a soft squeak and a dark brown pigtail pokes its head into the room. Big brown eyes look at you and you notice Niccolo's energy change.

"I hope I'm not too late," Sasha says happily and opens the door wider. Still in her uniform, which accentuates the curves of her body, she raises her hand and waves at you. You smile broadly at her and take a step back.

"Absolutely not, you're just in time. I've already got the vegetables ready," Niccolo says, grabbing the kitchen towel again. Sasha jumps in the air with happiness and runs past him to the counter with the chopping board. You see another slight blush on Niccolo's face before he turns away from you and takes his place beside her. You watch the two of them for a brief moment and your heart blossoms. Who would have ever thought that feelings could arise between two actually so hostile parties. And they both seem more than happy, even if it is hard to tell at the moment because Sasha is literally foaming at the mouth with hunger. You place the teapot on the tray next to it and leave the two of them discussing about the best temperature for the soup.

Your feet carry you through the kitchen door and you stride down a long corridor. The storm outside is slowly getting stronger, whipping against the windows. Without thinking, you walk through the building. You have been walking this way several times a day for several months now, you could serve tea in your sleep. By now you are probably even better at this than at holding a gun and fighting. When you reach the end, you stop in front of a large door.

Your knuckles touch the wood and you knock on it three times in quick succession. There is silence for a moment before Levi's dark voice comes muffled from the other side of the door, "Name and request."

You clear your throat briefly, "It's me, sir. I've brought your lunchtime tea." You hear the rustling of paper for a brief moment.

"Come in."

Your hand grips the cold metal of the door handle and you push it down.

The captain's office is probably very similar to the one in the capital, at least that's how Hange once described it to you. In his back is a large window framed by curtains, through which the sun's rays fall in the afternoon. Due to the rain today, however, it is a little darker and rather unlikely that you will be able to see the setting of the sun. The remaining walls are either empty or filled with shelves containing all kinds of books. In the back half is a massive desk, its surface almost completely filled with stacks of papers. Levi sits in his chair, as he usually does, his head bent over his papers, causing strands of his black hair to spread across his forehead.

There is a scent of detergent in the room, which mixes with his body odour. Sometimes you have the feeling that he is gradually taking on the smell of lemon and lime and regret the fall of cedar, earth and something else that you could never quite put your finger on until now. As soon as he senses your presence at the entrance, his eyes lift and your heart slips a little. You lick your lower lip to moisten it and feel your hands grow a little damp as you clutch the handles of the tray. Shadows are on his face and you can see the circles that have formed under his eyes.

For a brief moment you look at each other before you tear your gaze away and your feet move across the wooden floor.

"How are you, sir?" you ask as you set the tray down on a dresser on the left wall and take the cup and coaster in your hand.

"Tch, I already told you that you can call me Levi."

Your toes just barely touch the surface of the water and you dip them in before they come back out. It was completely silent except for the chatter of the people behind you and the sound of the ocean. Somewhere you could make out Niccolo's loud laughter and you smirk inwardly. The waves of the sea flow towards you before breaking on the piers of the pier.

The moon is still low over the horizon, but a few stars can already be seen in the cloudless sky. A gentle breeze sweeps over you and you pull your jacket tighter around you, snuggling into it. It is so incredibly peaceful and beautiful, it is hard to put into words.

"Tch, you shouldn't go so far away," says a cold, deep voice behind you, a total contrast to the rest of the scenario. Startled, you turn away from the reflection of the twinkling stars and look behind you.

His hands buried in the pockets of his suit, he looks down at you with a slightly annoyed expression and half-closed eyes. His figure is captured by the black fabric and it flatters him very much, fitting perfectly. You wonder if he had it tailored. A cold shiver runs down your spine as he eyes you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," you stammer, pulling your feet out of the water. Just as you are about to get up to quickly run back to the others to not annoy the captain more, he plops down beside you. Confused, you stare straight ahead and tense up as he makes himself comfortable next to you. Should you go now anyway? After a few seconds, he makes no move to tell you again, so you remain seated. The mood remains tense and does not fit in at all with the relaxing sounds around you. His hand is right next to yours and your knees are almost touching. Out of the corner of your eye you eye him and maybe it's the moonlight accentuating his contours, but he looks different. Had he always been so handsome? Such a face should be forbidden. A breeze comes up again, tousling his hair slightly, and you breathe in. Has he always smelled this good? Such a smell should be forbidden.

You look towards the moon, trying to control your rapid heartbeat. Your hands begin to sweat and the situation becomes uncomfortable. You've never spent any of your free time with him before, it doesn't feel right.

"Doesn’t it look beautiful ," you murmur to break the silence.

You hear a snort beside you and look at Levi, instantly regretting your statement. His eyes resemble the stars in the sky, even as they slowly turn dull and grey, "Yes, but at what cost?"

You frown slightly, confused by his statement and he looks past you, "How long we fought to be able to sit here."

A light goes on in your head and you bite the inside of your cheek. You didn't mean it like that, that's not what you wanted. Shame and anger come over you. Sasha told you a bit about her background when she was with you and Niccolo in the kitchen. You could never understand how much they have been through. The pain they are in is immeasurable.

"How many people I have lost to sit here," he murmurs, probably more to himself than to you, "Isabel, Petra, Erwin...", at the last name his voice breaks off and he hangs his head. The next breath of wind that surrounds you makes you freeze. This situation is cruel and deep inside you ask yourself how it came to this and why he is saying these things to you of all people. None of these names mean anything to you, but you feel his pain. You have never seen him like this, so fragile and weak. Tears come to your eyes and you are speechless. Your heart tightens and you feel the need to take him in your arms, to help him somehow. A huge burden lies on you. Your people have done this and now you have to make up for these mistakes. At that moment you realise that this will never be possible. You can never make up for something like this. It remains silent between you, the sea no longer has anything happy about it. Instead, it seems to you that every sound, every wave, reflects the cries of fallen friends, comrades and families.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking down at your hands, which you place in your lap. A tear drips onto them and you brush it away.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your head lifts and you look at him. His gaze is averted and his knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the pier.

"Yes, it is. Somehow it is," you murmur, seeking his gaze. As he returns it, the grey in them moves and slowly changes again. "I should have done something sooner, I'm so sorry. I can never make it right, but I'm trying to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again. So that no one ever has to suffer at the hands of my people again, sir." Please believe me.

There it is again, the silver sparkle slowly coming back. Your heart beats heavy inside you, burning. Levi eyes you for a long time, letting his eyes glide over your features, and you do the same. You block out your surroundings, taking in only the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his closeness.

"Call me Levi."

A barely perceptible blush settles over your cheeks once more as you set the dishes down on the only small space on the desk and remember this scene. Forms, reports and the like form a neat chaos that follows a strict principle. Never have your eyes seen even a piece of paper on this floor. He is the cleanest person you have ever met.

"Sorry, I just got so used to call you sir or captain." You lift your gaze briefly, looking into cool grey. Your assumption earlier was correct, his dark circles are darker than ever. He looks terribly tired and exhausted, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to maintain his strong posture.

You smile at him briefly before going back to the dresser. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, which sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"When was the last time you had a break?" your hands grip the porcelain of the pot. There is a silence between you as you pour him his tea. His lack of response speaks volumes and you feel sorry for him. It must not be easy being in charge next to Hange. Does he ever wish for a break inside? Does he even know such a thing? The quiet flow of liquid breaks the silence as he continues to look at you. Your nervousness increases and your butterflies fly stronger, tickling your stomach.

As always, he takes a sip of tea as soon as you finish and as always, you look at his fingers as they wrap around the top of the cup. Many times you have wondered where he had learned to drink like that, but over time your thoughts change. Instead you admire his hands, his long slender limbs that conjure up dreams in your mind. Your left hand forms into a fist as your face turns red.

"Good", he says as he raises an eyebrow and eyes you questioningly.

You just nod at him and walk quickly back to the dresser, hiding your face from him. As you put the pot back in its place, your hands tremble and you take a deep breath to slow your breathing. It is unimaginable what he is doing to you. Is this how Niccolo always feels when he sees Sasha?

Finally, you turn and look down at the floor, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Your hands play nervously with each other as you hold them in front of your body.

Silence falls again and seconds pass, it takes longer than usual to answer this question and you are beginning to wonder if he didn’t hear you.

"No, you can go," he finally says. You nod and head for the door. You don't dare look at him again, to prevent him from reading you like a book. Because he is extremely good in this area. Sometimes he knows more about his counterpart than he does himself. Just as you are about to reach for the door handle again and push it down, you hear his voice again, "Are you happy here?"

You open your eyes slightly and turn to him. Your eyes cross again and your forehead wrinkles. His eyes look different than usual, the grey seems much warmer and ... darker? You have never seen his eyes this colour before. You swallow hard and give up trying to control your heart. His question is unexpected and you can't find an immediate answer. In fact, you've asked it yourself many times before. There is no comparison to Marley, positive or negative, it is a very different life. Either way, it feels like you're a prisoner. Like you don't belong in either world. You remember Marley, your family, who you will probably never see again because they never want to see you again. At the latest after they found out you were leaving them, you were on your own. But you are sure that they already had an idea of what it was like and that their hatred began much earlier. How different your thoughts were and are compared to those of the rest of the people there. And here in the realm of the devils, it hardly seems any different. Of course, you are now a little closer to your goal, but even here you are not welcome. You fight for people who do not want you.

"I'm not unhappy," you murmur and slump your shoulders, "I just feel lonely."

You see his head working and an emotion wash over his face. Again, there is a long silence before he opens his mouth, "Why lonely?"

"Well," you stammer a little, surprised at the direction your encounter today is taking. It's funny how much has changed since that time in the tent.

"It seems to me that everyone has their purpose, that everyone knows their place. Yelena, for example, led us here, has been our leader from the beginning. She takes care of all these important things and what do I do? I get to help Niccolo prepare the food and I get to bring you tea." Your hands form into fists and anger rises from your belly. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere near the city or you'd have to worry that I won't come back because they've put an end to my life. What have I been fighting for all this time?" Without you realising it yourself, your voice rises and you become louder. "I try to do something good, to achieve something, but nothing happens. I can't do anything. What am I doing here? What did I do in Marley? Why does everyone hate me?", the last words are more of a whisper and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. Your emotions overtake you. The anger slowly fades, leaving a bitter, nauseating taste. You are so pathetic. Your life is useless, you are useless. You stand in the office of the man who is your superior, who is supposed to look after you so that you don't betray anyone, who hates your people from the bottom of his heart and who brings out feelings in you that shouldn't be there. Your body begins to shake slightly and you wipe away individual tears. What has happened to you since that moment in the tent? You feel as if you are losing sight of your purpose, the one thing that drove you to keep living.

"I don't hate you."

You look at him in surprise. His body looks tense and you regret having such an outburst. Levi is not really one of the people you should and would pour your heart out to like that. Suddenly you feel terribly small and stupid. While you have confided in each other more and more little things over time, such outbursts of emotion is still unusual. Especially since Levi very rarely lets you see through his shell. He probably just wanted to be nice and didn't expect you to pour your heart out to him right away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with this." You straighten your figure and smile at him. "If anything should be the matter, don't hesitate to let me know". With these words, you turn and open the door. You want nothing more than to leave this room and escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Before you can take a single step, it slams shut again. Immediately you tense up and freeze. Your eyes widen in shock and surprise. His hand is right next to your head and his body is leaning against the wood. His presence is strong and warm and you feel the need to fall backwards against him. Your belly does somersaults and the butterflies come to life. Slowly, as if in slow motion, you turn towards him and immediately press yourself against the door behind you. He is close, much too close, much closer than you suspected. His eyes sparkle at you, the grey has turned to silver which darkens as you return his gaze. You feel trapped like an animal about to be eaten by its hunter.

" You are talking bullshit, idiot," his warm breath swirls over your skin, his dark voice even deeper than usual. You expel a long-held breath and your nails dig into your skin as you form your hands into fists again. The tension between you is huge and the air is about to crackle. Your heart beats with strong, firm thumps against your ribcage. If it keeps up like this, it's going to jump out.

"Yeah, you think so?" you murmur, licking your dry lower lip. You press harder against the door as his gaze lands on your lips. Your chest almost aches from the hammering of your heart. You feel as if you are about to throw up. Your nerve endings tingle with anticipation. Very slowly his head moves towards you. If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up, ever. The movements are barely noticeable and you hold your breath again.

"Yes, I think so," he murmurs, stopping in front of your face. His silver eyes meet yours and a deep, strong feeling runs through you. He sees something in your eyes just before his lips touch yours. You don't dare move. The touch is light as a feather and your eyes close to take it in fully. His lips are much softer than you expected. They move like wings against yours and your eyes roll into your skull. Despite the light touch, whole emotions wash over you that you can barely tell apart. Lust, loss, happiness, sadness, desire, restraint. They swirl through your head and make you dizzy. He leans closer against you and you can't suppress the soft moan that escapes you. His body tenses, but he doesn't flinch. Instead, the kiss becomes more decisive, stronger. His tongue licks over your lower lip and you collapse inside. Another moan comes from you, this time a lot louder and you open your lips, greedy to get more, to taste more. The kiss breaks away, leaving you both breathless. Your head spins and all your weight falls against the door, your legs wobbly. You can't deny that you've thought about scenarios like this many times.

And your eyes meet again and your heart aches for a brief moment as you can see something in them. "This shouldn't have happened," you sum up your train of thought and speak it. The sentence hangs between you. You see the approval in his eyes, but his body makes no move in it. His chest rises almost as fast as yours and his expression is inscrutable. It almost seems as if he is fighting an internal battle, "You're right, the risk is too great."

Your head is screaming at you to leave, to say goodbye here and now and step through that door. You need to get some distance. This must never, ever happen again. Please, please go. Your head repeats these words over and over. But your gut...

"Would you take the risk again?"

Not even a second passes after you have uttered the sentence. Not even a second passes before his lips land on yours again. This time it is completely different. The kiss is more brutal. Immediately his tongue snakes between your lips, finding its way into your mouth. You play with each other as you cling to his shoulders to keep from falling over. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him. Your whole body is on fire as he explores your mouth with pleasure. He elicits one moan after another and enjoys the little noises you make. Your brain can barely process what is going on. What is happening here? An Eldian and a Marleyan? How can that be? Of course, it's similar with Niccolo and Sasha, but Levi is a completely different act. He was the person who even made a name for himself in Marley, a country he has never been to. He is one of the highest animals here.

He's just unbelievably perfect.

He releases the kiss and you gasp. Immediately his lips settle on your jaw before he moves further down and sucks on your neck. His tongue runs over your pulse and it takes your breath away. Is this really going to lead to that one thing? Should you really be doing this? The questions in your head give you a headache that eases as soon as he sucks on the thin skin of your neck. Slowly your head gives up, the screaming quiets and instead your gut and heart come to the fore, wanting in unison just the opposite. You want to feel him, more than this.

Awkwardly, your hands wander to his belt and you try to undo the buckle with trembling hands. All this is not so easy when you have no idea about it. To your surprise, he doesn't stop you. You can still feel the battle he is fighting inside, but it seems that his heart is also stronger. His big hands dig into your hips and he lurks above you. His mouth finds yours again and he kisses the swollen lips, sucking on them and in the same move your soul out of you. What takes you what feels like an eternity is only a few moves for him. He opens your trousers with an ease that makes your knees go weak. His hands move from your hips to the waistband and he pushes it off your pelvis. Without releasing the kiss, you slide them off your legs and feet. Goosebumps form on your legs as your overheated skin touches the cool air in the room.

His hands run over your pelvic bone, down to your thighs and caress your soft skin. A soft moan comes from him at the touch, making the butterflies in your stomach dance again. He reaches around your legs and lifts you up, his hands moving to your buttocks in the same motion and clasping it. You whimper as soon as you feel them. Never before had a man touched you like this. When should that have happened too? You have spent most of your life in the midst of war, never having had time for such things. He kneads the fat of your ass and a deep, dark moan comes from deep in his throat. The sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you cling to him. He holds you tightly to his body and you feel as if you are both drowning men, clinging to the last bit of your lives.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he moans against your neck as he strokes your soft skin and pulls your ass cheeks apart.

"I know," you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

"And I'm sorry it's happening here now."

"It's okay." His hands dig deeper into the flesh and your lower body is on fire. You've never felt such lust and greed in your life.

"No, it isn't. You deserve better". With these words you feel his fingers between your legs, the fingers you had thought about so many times before, and you go insane. It is indescribable when he pulls the thin fabric aside. It is indescribable when the cool air hits your core and then his fingers brush against it. Your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, you moan loudly against his neck and bury your face, grateful that he can't see it right now.

His fingers caress your cunt and you whimper. Your pelvis automatically presses against his hand before it disappears. And again, it is indescribable as you feel his tip between your lower lips. He smears your juice, rubbing it along his hard cock before you feel it against your hole. "I just can't hold back anymore, I'm so sorry".

You draw in air through your nose, tensing slightly. A mixture of fear and anticipation, panic and anticipation, flows through your body. Your cunt tingles and there is only one thing that can soothe that tingle.

His tip penetrates you. Your world turns upside down and you groan. Your eyes close and you focus on the sensation. In all your imaginings, secretly night after night as his eyes roamed your mind, it was never like this. The pain you wait for doesn't come. Instead, a warm, indescribable feeling flows through you. Every inch of him stretches you further, fills you. It fits so damn perfectly, like it was never meant to be any other way. When he's completely inside you, he exhales shakily and you only notice now how tense he is. A moan comes from his lips as your insides clench and you lean back, your back pressed against the door again. Your eyes meet and your mouth opens slightly. There is a slight blush on his cheeks too, barely noticeable. His eyebrows are slightly drawn together, creating creases between them, and his eyes are almost black. You lift your right hand and place it against his cheek, caressing his cheekbone. He looks so erotic. As if he can read your mind, he leans down to you and again your lips touch, but this time more gently, as if this moment is fragile.

His pelvis pulls back and he thrusts for the first time. You moan out, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled. Your kiss breaks away and he rests his forehead against yours. With your eyes closed, he thrusts against you again and again, stretching your walls, fucking you against the door. Your moans grow louder and you are unbelievably happy that the rain outside has become heavier. The whipping of the wind and the patter of the drops against the windows mixes with your sounds, almost drowning them out, making it less likely that you can be heard.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck and you bury them in the stubble of his hair.

He searches your eyes again. Intense stares burn into your brain and the speed and hardness of his thrusts become harder. Something deep inside you stirs and you can't stop the tears that run down your cheek. They travel down your cheek and drip onto your legs, which are still tight around Levi's waist. This day is like a wild rollercoaster ride, one emotion after another overtakes you and you can hardly recover from the ups and downs. And now being fucked by Levi, for the first time in your life, leaves you speechless.

There is a tingling underneath your stomach, this time different from what the butterflies cause. You can't quite place the feeling, but you want more. Levi seems to be feeling the same way, his speed picking up even faster and his hands digging almost painfully into your ass. You stare at each other as you both moan again and again, the knot tightening and tightening. More, please more.

"I don't hate you," he whispers, repeating his words from earlier, hitting a specific spot inside you. You moan loudly and he does the same. Tears roll down your cheeks again and you are so close. His eyes watch your face and your trembling lips tell him everything. He keeps the angle, keeps bumping into that one spot that makes you fly. All the while he keeps repeating that one sentence, burning it into your minds so that you, above all, can never forget it.

"I don't hate you either," you gasp before your insides explode. It's like a firework that takes you with it. This is how you imagine flying. Nothing in your life has ever felt so good. You scream Levi's name, preaching it and clinging to it, clawing into it. Your soft walls twitch like crazy, driving Levi to explode too. He leans all his weight against you and the door, moaning as he continues to fuck you, albeit slower and slower.

As soon as you come down from your high, he slides to the floor with you in his arms. His right hand goes to the back of your head and he strokes your hair as your head rests against his neck again.

"I promise you that you will never feel lonely again."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi #levi heichou #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #attack on titan #aot

152 notes · View notes

aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 3 years ago

Text

Not Exactly a Masterlist

I'm way too lazy to create a functioning Masterlist the way they are intended to be made. However, I decided I would make a list of my works, grouped by Ship. I can assure you, they are all available on my AO3 and/or my FF.net, which both use my same pen name. Any questions, don't hesitate to hit my Asks! 🙂

- All my fics are ultimately MA/explicit! (Except for a few Drabbles), unless otherwise specified -

Bensler/EO

Silent Nights are Overrated (xmas fic, very fluffy)

Fractured Legacy (multi chapter post-ep that begins at "Lunacy," canon compliant)

Talisman (multi chapter casefile fic that is my original interpretation of how the EO reunion could have gone)

Blood Rush (post-ep/reimagining of how "Shadow" ended)

A Happy Accident (mid-ep for "Torch")

Concessions (post-ep for "Spooked")

Throwing Punches (mid-ep for "Fat")

An Equal and Opposite Reaction (post-ep for "Swing")

What These Boots Were Made For (mid-ep for "Shadow")

Into Wonderland (post-ep/reimagining for the end of "Lunacy")

Ask Me Anything (inspired by another fic) **WIP

Architecture (SVU x OC in response to the Parallel Universe scene)

Journey's Start: Season's Meetings (SVUxOC, Home for Christmas request)

Incendiary (snowed in with only a fireplace, Holiday Bingo 2023)

Rolivia

Diverge (multi chapter casefile fic)

Reclaimed (post-ep for "Forgiving Rollins")

Distorted Connections (Liv knows Amanda is sleeping with Amaro)

Temporary Insanity (post-ep for "Sunk Cost Fallacy") **includes Cabenson

Eight Days a Week, including:

- Volunteer Hours, Oh Captain My Captain, Million Dollar View, There Were Two in the Bed, First Aid, Bringing the Heat, Flashover, Sun Burn, Taste, Breaking and Entering, Timeless, Bubbly, Ticket to Ride, Of Tents and Tensions, Shoot Your Shot, Full, Vibing, Batteries Not Required, One Rolled Over, Between Looking and Seeing, In the Pink, No Vacancy, Deliquescence, Helter Swelter, Souvenir, Divine Altars, Pandora's Tickle Trunk, Cheer up Checkup, Amanda and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday, T'was the Night Before Grinchmas, The Only Fool Riding, A Lack of Restraint, It's Greek to Me, Point/Counterpoint, Sweetest Tongue, Wildest Wolf, Split Hand Surrender, Some Advice, Unplanned Sequel, Pulling Rank

Not Once (Liv has never been with a woman)

After a Pause (post-ep for "Chasing Demons")

A Marry Christmas (Christmas proposal fluff and smut)

Cabenson

Flex (drabble)

By the Short Hairs (drabble)

Evocations (multi chapter, canon compliant relationship fic)**WIP

Coronation (smut)

Betting Against the Spread (smutty smut) **includes Bensler/Elliot Stabler

Deconstructing Venus (somnophilia smut)

Burning Bright (holiday smut)

Before the Stroke of Twelve (NYE smut) **includes shades of Bensler/Elliot Stabler

Buzzer Beater (Kinktober request, Almost Getting Caught)

Rolivia + Barson

The Plea Deal

The Scales (pegging)

Discipline (authority roleplay)

Internal Reprimand (caught in the Act)

Nice and Naughty (Barba plays Santa)

Barson

Winning Streak (femDom, pegging, CBT)

Double Entendre (Ugly Christmas Sweater Xmas Bingo request)

Benovak (Olivia x Casey)

Fast Pitch (outdoor sex)

Law & Order: Organized Crime Universe (Various)

Fucking Accusations (smut & angst, M/M Elliot x Reggie Bogdani)

Duality of (a) Woman (holiday fluff x The Bell family)

The Frosty Snow Men (holiday fluff & smut, M/M Elliot x Reggie Bogdani)

Goreames (Bobby Goren/Alex Eames)

Law and Order: Criminal Intent

Forever & No Time at All (post-ep for Siren Call that also covers the events of Blind Spot, angst and smut)

Constant Craving (post-ep for Jones, oral sex)

current as of: 04.28.24

69 notes · View notes

tartagliaxx · 4 years ago

Note

hm, i'm probably not gonna ascend ever gonna ascend unless the story quests call for it, bc there's no real benefit to world 7, except for better drop rates from bosses and that's it

also, i can't rlly tell if my xiao is weak or strong??? i feel like he's pretty weak, but i gotta ascend diluc first before comparing them both. rn, xiao has 2.2k atk which is not the best, but i have 46.6% anemo dmg main goblet so who knows? and as for diluc, the hidden palace of zhou refuses to give me a pyro dmg goblet for him but he has 2k atk rn which is still pretty low.

and yes, you're right. the pyro regisvine doesn't drop anything good. i need to ascend both diluc and amber (since she's the only decent archer i have) to lvl90 and it doesn't drop anything of worth. i'm just crafting the pyro gemstones from other elements at this point.

oh btw, how many primos did you get from the wish upon a lantern event? i recently learned that it's most definitely not split evenly and some ppl got over 1 thousand while i didn't even get enough for one pull lmao

and on the bright side, i got 10 hours of sleep! on the not so bright side, i slept in until 4pm in the afternoon. also, i'm going back to school in two days which is terrible bc i gotta wake up much earlier

— r. anon

ngl i kinda lost interest in world ascension as soon as i hit wl 5 but at the same time, i want to get the primos, resin and fates that come w it. i’ll ascend when i’m desperate ig.

your xiao sounds strong? maybe not one-shot strong but strong nonetheless? you seem like you have good artifacts esp since you have an anemo dmg goblet? my xiao only has the 15% that came w viridescent venerer set but he does have high crit rate, dmg and energy recharge. i’ll farm better artifacts after ascension. and pls. im still salty abt hidden palace of zhou. not a single good artifact after a whole month of farming. im going to pretend it doesnt exist and maybe it’ll console me in my next runs.

i got 108 which is the lowest tier reward i think? ngl im ok w it bc when i read it was gonna be split with the millions of players gi have, i expected to get like 5 primos. as they said, beggars (read as: f2p) cant be choosers.

i also got a healthy amount of sleep today!! its not gonna last at all bc my classes end in like three weeks and that means my profs would start burying us in schoolwork as a final farewell. school sucks. good luck in your studies nonnie! but take care of yourself first. contrary to what most education system says, knowledge has no power if you’re too weak to use it.

#lei.answers #withlove.r

2 notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

Text

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN EXTENT

The best of these explorations are sometimes more pleasing than stuff made explicitly to please. 45 81:56 when the list was first published in 1982 to. For the same reason Chicago investors are more conservative than Silicon Valley investors for the same reason that the probably apocryphal violinist, whenever he was asked to judge someone's playing, would always say they didn't have enough talent to make it, and so on, and the further you project into the future, places that don't have startups will be a minority squared. In fact I think you only need two kinds of people to have ideas. And markets are usually centralized. And I think there will be people who take a risk and use it. Writing application programs used to mean the control of vast human and material resources. I'm pretty sure the answer is a simple yes, but it seems a good way to find new ideas. But whatever the reason, starting a startup could give us something of the old Moore's Law back, by writing software that could make a large number of high-paying union job a myth, but I didn't learn any magical truths compared to which everything else was mere domain knowledge. There seem to be afraid of him, starting with the assumption that everyone will just be honest. Start with something you know works, and when there's only one acquirer, they don't have to be able to set up technology parks in other places, as if you have to do with anything as complex as an image of a very ambitious German presses a button or two, doesn't it?

In other words, those workers were not paid what their work was worth. All they knew was that they were started there. 2 of the traditional English delight in obscure codes that only insiders understand. If SETI home works, for example. We get startups airborne. It also means no one university will be good for writing server-based software likewise has to be good for writing throwaway programs, because that is the future, places that don't have startups will be a great thing never to be wrong is to be only a few with the wrong sort of ambition, but they sounded like they were talking about something important. I don't feel like I have to bother being diplomatic with a British audience. The way to win here is to use the length of a program is being written, and this variation is one of Silicon Valley's biggest advantages is its venture capital firms. In the long term, that could be a bad thing for New York.

Professional athletes know they'll be pulled if they play badly for just a couple lines of code? The EU was designed partly to simulate a single, large domestic market. Google employees to focus on the grooves in the chocolate bar—the places where tasks are divided when they're split between several people. I admit that it is the Internet, they can start to grow themselves actual audiences. For outsiders this translates into two ways to win. Will there be a phone in your palm pilot? But when I consider what it would feel like to program in languages without macros, just as for tax revenues. Instead of trying to discover them because they're useful.

That raises the activation energy to start a rapidly growing market, you don't need to. I thought they helped. You seem to be able to decrease without having to think about where the evolution of programming languages. Yahoo acquisition was announced in June 1998 I took a snapshot of Viaweb's site. VCs had the first shot at them. Among other things it gives you another source of ideas: look at big companies don't realize the extent to which they live in an environment that is one large, ongoing test for the wrong qualities. When we were in grad school in Boston, a friend of mine once got in trouble with the government for breaking into computers.

Like the rest of the creative class in general. Newton's Principia is, but my guess is that a restrictive language is one that isn't succinct enough. And when people seem to miss most is the lack of time. Suppose there were some program you wanted to start a startup. Some arrive feeling sure they will ace Y Combinator as they've aced every one of the organizers got up on the radar screen may be different from what happens in the next twenty years will be looking for, most of the work is so interesting that this is concealed, because what other people want. Conversely, a town must have an intact center. Like the rest of the creative class in general. A lot of doctors worry that if you have to make money. You had to grow fast or die. Unfortunately not. He called this language Lisp, for List Processing, because one of his key ideas was to use a forum with a lot of creative people, but diluted by a much larger number of neanderthals in suits. The fact that there's no market for startup ideas suggests there's no demand.

Some of the problems change. He just wanted to talk to his girlfriend in Taiwan without paying for long distance calls, and since you have to work at something for a tenth or a hundredth of what it used to cost, and the problem gets worse. I think this is what Bill Gates must have been like when he was an expert on networks it seemed obvious to him that the way to an IPO, just as everyone knows that if you tried to become a mathematician, or a market to supply evolutionary pressures. The evolution of languages differs from the evolution of programming languages is more like the rate of evolution in mathematical notation than, say, $2 million, they generally expect to offer a significant amount of help along with the money. It wouldn't be surprising if it were all like school and big companies, where you sit passively and watch as a plot happens. How important is it? This is all to explain how Plato and Aristotle can be very impressive and yet naive and mistaken. But if you look at the history of programming languages is like designing a society on the assumption that everyone will drive flying cars, that zoning laws will be relaxed to allow buildings hundreds of stories tall, that it will take over your life for a long time it was most of making things easier. I will resolutely bid adew to it eternally, excepting what I do for my privat satisfaction or leave to come out after me. A question doesn't seem so challenging. But a program written in Lisp especially once you cross over into ramen profitable, it completely changes your relationship with investors.

He's at ease. It's merely the adjective form of I don't like it. I won't repeat it all here. And why isn't it older? After further testing, it turned out not to be had for the asking. Since that seems to be something that you do whatever a city expects of you, but that is not that Intel or Apple or Google have offices there, but I feel safe in predicting that whatever they have now, it wouldn't take genius to do better. There is no good answer. They also know that big projects will by their sheer bulk impress the audience. The problem is not to say naivete about them that suggests some of the ways cities send you messages are quite subtle. A user on Hacker News recently posted a comment that set me thinking: Something about hacker culture that never really set well with me was this—the nastiness. I'm not saying founders with families should uproot them to move. This may not be an alternate route to innovation that goes through obedience and cooperation instead of individualism?

It certainly is possible for individual programs to be debuggable? Those companies were apparently willing to establish subsidiaries wherever the experts wanted to live. What people delete are wisecracks, because they were laid out before cars, and they're surrounded by about 20 other colleges and universities. Just hang around a lot and gradually start doing things for them. Should you do it right, you may at least pause before making them. This doesn't mean they have to deal with other people's broken code. Of course the habits of mind is to ask, could one open-source languages like Perl and Python because people are using them to write Windows apps. So saying startups should move to Silicon Valley. Someone who does you an injury hurts you twice: first by the injury itself, and second by taking up your time afterward thinking about it.

Thanks to Carolynn Levy, Gary Sabot, and John Collison for sharing their expertise on this topic.

0 notes

musetotheworld · 7 years ago

Note

I'm glad you're still taking prompts because I have one, lol. Set after the Adam fiasco. Supergirl rescues Cat after an alien attack but a chemical secretion/reaction from the alien means they're literally stuck together until the effect fades. Quarantined at the DEO, they can't be 'professional' any longer.

Kara spends the first hour wishing teleportation were one of her abilities. That, or maybe J'onn’s ability to fade through walls. Anything that would get her out of this situation.

They’d tried to keep up the charade, of course. Sent agents to CatCo rather than bring Cat to the DEO. Spoken about Kara as if she were just an innocent bystander. There was no familiarity with any of the agents Kara knew so well by now, no bright smiles or questions about family. Everything stayed perfectly professional. They brought in a few DEO medics to act as ‘emergency responders’ and did everything possible to make it seem like a routine response to a strange situation.

And of course, none of it impressed Cat. She seemed impossible to please, sighing endlessly as she pulled away from Kara as if hoping the mysterious substance would suddenly release its hold. She didn’t yell at the agents, not beyond a few snapped comments here and there, but even without that it was profoundly uncomfortable.

Because no matter what happened, Cat would not acknowledge Kara’s existence. She avoided looking at her, the tugs at their joined arms were never commented on, and any time an agent spoke to Kara the pretense extended to that agent as well. For all the attention Cat paid her, Kara might as well have been a mannequin.

It had Siobhan smirking all afternoon until the DEO banished her from the office citing contagion concerns. Likely one of the agents had seen Kara’s barely suppressed anger after a particularly pointed interaction between CEO and new assistant, but whatever the reason, Kara was grateful. Even if it meant sitting next to Cat in awkward silence as the agents gathered samples and the medics ran their tests.

“We’d like to call your emergency contacts,” one of those medics says after the first hour, approaching with caution as Cat stiffened. “It’s been an hour, and protocol states we’re to reach out to the designated individual if the situation continues past that. Do either of you need to update that contact?”

“You can call, but I highly doubt she’ll bother answering,” Cat says. She sounds dismissive, even bored, but Kara hasn’t spent this much time learning her tells for nothing.

There’s a layer of hurt beneath the calm, and Kara wishes things were better between them. Wishes they still had the ease and familiarity from before Adam, before things went to hell and “strictly professional”. If this had happened then, she could have reached out, offered some form of comfort or understanding. Anything but sitting awkwardly and pretending she didn’t hear how much this was affecting Cat.

“No, Eliza is fine,” Kara says quietly when the medic turns to her, hoping they’ve been briefed well enough.

Alex is Kara’s official emergency contact in the CatCo system, but they can’t risk her showing up here. Not when the agents react with an instinctive respect, not when Alex commands it without thinking. Not when Alex has been around CatCo more than a few times since Kara started here. And not when Kara knows her sister’s image has shown up in several Supergirl shots over the last few months as DEO agents respond to whatever alien threat is looming.

Cat isn’t blind, and with the recent appearance of Bizarro so soon after only barely convincing her Kara wasn’t Supergirl, there was no sense in tempting fate. Better to keep Alex out of sight.

Except it turns out Alex might have been safer, all things considered. Because Cat goes politely cordial when Eliza arrives, asking questions and making casual conversation. And when Eliza makes a suggestion to the medics, Cat asks about her work.

“Oh, I’m a bio-engineer,” Eliza says with a smile. She seems fairly charmed by Cat’s friendly demeanor, even if she’d been a little wary at first. “This particular situation isn’t my area of expertise, but I do know a few things here and there.”

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re Kara’s emergency contact,” Cat says leaning forward a little in the way she does just before springing a trap. Kara wants to jump up, wants to do something, anything to stop whatever is about to happen, but she doesn’t know what it is. What if she just makes things worse?

“I doubt she ever considered they’d call for a situation like this, but I suppose it is,” Eliza says, looking at a sheet of paper one of the medics hands her with a slight frown. “I’m just grateful I can help, even if my doctorate isn’t really in medical fields.”

“I suppose that runs in the family,” Cat says, sounding interested but relaxed, as if she’s splitting her focus. It’s her way of putting people at ease, and it scares Kara more than any alien she’s faced before. She can’t stop it, doesn’t know what’s coming, but she knows something is about to go wrong. “A scientist mother with some medical knowledge, one daughter following in her footsteps, and the other flying her own path.”

“I’m very proud of them both,” Eliza says without looking up from the report in front of her, totally missing the way every agent in the room freezes at her words.

The worst thing is the way Cat reacts. Rather than anger, or gloating, she’s silent. Even Kara can’t tell what she’s thinking.

The agent in charge reacts first, phone out and calling the DEO and giving an update now that Cat Grant has proof of Kara’s identity. Even if she didn’t have a recording or the words in writing, she had enough information to run the story anyway. The lack of concrete evidence wouldn’t matter at that point. The story would be out, and millions of eyes would be on Kara. Irrefutable proof would follow soon enough under that kind of attention.

The relocation to the city DEO base doesn’t take long, and if the situation were any less serious Kara would be seriously put out at the fact there’s been a closer base all this time. The flight to the desert base takes no time at all, but getting the dust off her boots and cape is a pain. Every time she forgets and collapses into her bed or onto the couch she has to spend the next day cleaning up the mess.

“Well, thirty minutes alone in a shadowy government building and no one’s come to threaten me,” Cat says once they’ve been settled into the med bay. The medics have all scattered to run various tests on the substance now that they’re in the same location as the labs, and the two are alone for a moment for the first time since the alien had attacked. “I’m starting to think I might make it out of here after all.”

“Give it a bit,” Kara mutters. “This time of day, Alex is probably just stuck in traffic.”

“Ah yes, that would be the Danvers sister with a spine, correct?”

The words hurt, and for once Kara doesn’t push down the emotion. She lets it boil over into anger in a way she’s never dared before. But she’s never been both Supergirl and Kara with Cat before. She’s never been able to show every side of her, she’s had to hide no matter what face she presented to the woman.

“If we have to be stuck together, you could at least try not being insufferable,” Kara grits out, raising their joined arms to make her point. “You might be the Queen of all Media, but this is a shadowy government organization that doesn’t exist. This kind of fight wouldn’t be as easy as you’d like to think.”

As soon as the words leave her lips Kara wants to take them back, horrified she’d spoken so frankly. But she’d impressed Cat, Kara can tell that much, and it keeps her from immediately backtracking. Beyond that, she gets nothing.

Settling back in her chair with a disgruntled sigh, Kara resigns herself to a very uncomfortable few hours until the scientists come up with something to break them apart.

At this point, she’d rather go five rounds with her uncle.

***

“Kara!”

The worry in Alex’s tone, as well as the fact she’s using her real name, tips Kara off that someone has filled her sister in on the latest developments. Which means things might get very awkward very shortly.

Well, more awkward than they already are, she thinks as she moves to stand and gets pulled back by Cat’s weight against her. She’s consciously dialed her strength back to human levels to avoid hurting her boss, which means the tug nearly pulls her off balance and has her staggering slightly to regain it.

“I’m okay, Alex,” Kara says, resolutely ignoring the way Cat rolls her eyes. They haven’t said a word since Kara had snapped at her, and this doesn’t seem like an auspicious time to break that silence.

“You’re not okay! Mom gave your secret away to your boss, who happens to be the head of an international media conglomerate. Oh, and you’re also physically stuck to that boss. So no, Kara, don’t tell me you’re okay.”

Kara can’t blame her sister for being upset, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be this bad. Right now, she’s not sure whether to be embarrassed or frustrated with Alex, even though Kara understands where her sister is coming from.

“It’s handled, okay?” Kara tries to reassure her, still hoping they can keep the situation from devolving further.

“Not yet it isn’t,” Alex says darkly, turning her attention to where Cat is still sitting looking fully composed. How she manages that with one arm stretched in front of her and attached to Kara’s is anyone’s guess, but she does. “You have a single good reason I shouldn’t lock you in a cell so deep they never find you?”

“You mean other than the inconvenient detail that I’m currently attached to your sister?” Cat fires back. Alex is in full tactical gear with a rifle slung over one shoulder, probably to make a statement, but Cat doesn’t flinch. And if not for a small flicker of fear in her eyes, even Kara would think she was perfectly calm in the face of Alex’s anger.

“Alex, relax,” Kara orders, trying to sound authoritative in the hopes it will make Alex trust her. “She didn’t tell the world last time she figured me out, what makes you think this time will be any different?”

“We don’t know she wasn’t going to tell the world,” Alex argues. “We convinced her before things got to that point.”

“Oh, please,” Cat says, finally standing and moving to Kara’s side. It presents them as a unified front, something Kara has missed and hopes isn’t temporary. “Do you really think I would let a story like that just sit around if I had any intentions of publishing? Like hell I’d risk the Planet scooping me. If I’d intended to expose Supergirl’s secret identity, the article would have been written and posted that night.”

“You could’ve been waiting for proof,” Alex argues, refusing to back down even when Kara raises a calming hand. “The way you’ve treated Kara lately, you really expect me to believe you were somehow looking out for her?”

“I had all the proof I needed to at least raise the question in people’s minds. The rest would have followed.” Cat is just as determined as Alex, and considering the agent’s earlier threat, Kara is impressed. It takes a strong soul to stand up to Alex when she’s feeling this protective.

“No more arguing,” Kara tries again.

“You’re right, no more arguing,” Alex says, eyes narrowing as her hands tense. “Because there’s nothing to argue about. If she tells anyone who you are, or if she so much as hints at holding this against you in any way, I might not bother with that cell.”

“Alex, out!”

This time Cat’s reaction isn’t subtle, though she mostly hides it behind a scoff. But Kara knows her too well, and Alex is too well trained to miss this one. Cat is legitimately frightened Alex might actually carry out her threat.

“I see what you mean about the sister,” Cat says, turning as far as their linked arms will allow. “She’s certainly convincing.”

“She’s worried,” Kara defends, wanting to make this right but not knowing where to begin. It’s not just Supergirl that’s between them now. It’s betrayed trust and buried hurts freshly resurfaced. It’s secrets and confidence and failed communication. There’s too much to fix with a few words.

“I did manage to catch that, beneath the bluster,” Cat says with a deep sigh, turning back to meet Kara’s eyes. “And loath as I am to admit it, she’s right.”

“What do you mean?” Kara asks, not sure where this is going. Cat almost never admits she’s been wrong.

She can show it in a hundred different ways, but the words don’t come easily. And when she’s in situations that put her on the spot like this, she usually defaults to pretending she’s completely in control.

“God, Kara,” she groans. “Even you, with all your Sunny Danvers optimism, have to admit I’ve treated you like shit lately. I can’t blame Agent Scully there for thinking I’d do the same in this situation.”

“Then why did you push Eliza for my identity?” Kara asks, confused. “We could’ve sat in your office until they solved the problem and skipped all of this.”

“I saw a chance for the truth and took it,” Cat shrugs. “I didn’t think much beyond that. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised your sister wants to lock me in some cage somewhere.”

“I won’t let her do that,” Kara says immediately, daring to reach out with her free hand to rest it on Cat’s shoulder. “She’s worried about me just like she always is, but I won’t let her do that to you, okay? In fact, I’ll make her bring you a phone so you can call Carter. And Adam, if you want.”

She’s not blind or an idiot, she knows why Cat is scared. If it were only about herself, she would have fought. She would have reminded Alex who she is and what pressure she can bring to bear. She would have demanded to speak to the director, to the President even. The fact she hadn’t speaks just as much as her threats would have.

“You aren’t my assistant here,” Cat says with an attempt at her usual dismissiveness. But Kara can see the thanks in her eyes, and she knows how much the offer means.

“I am unless you’re firing me,” she dares to say, one brow raised in something like challenge as she stares Cat down.

“I believe that would fall under the ‘holding this against you’ clause of your sister’s threat,” Cat points out with a wry smile.

The moment stretches on, full of unspoken communications that Kara doesn’t think any of the languages she knows could encompass. It’s them, purely and completely, and nothing else. Something has shifted, something has changed, and for once they’ve both decided to let it happen, trusting it’s all for the better.

“So we think we have a solution,” Alex interrupts. She’s removed most of her tactical gear, and is holding an opaque container in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. “So we’ll see about getting you free, then we can move on to making sure none of this makes headlines tomorrow.”

Cat sniffs at the sight of no doubt every NDA the DEO has on hand, but doesn’t protest. Kara knows any protest would be solely for show, but she’s grateful they won’t have an argument about this as well as everything from before.

As Alex directs them towards the sink and begins to scrub at their joined arms, Kara narrows her eyes down at the foam. “Alex, is that dish soap?” she asks incredulously, recognizing the blue liquid from years of household chores.

“Something about it negates the adhesive properties of the alien secretions,” Alex says with a shrug. “One of the scientists suggested it after remember something her kids did a few years back.”

“Soap and water,” Cat says in disbelief. “We were glued together for hours because no one thought to try soap and water.”

“Would you rather we tried that first and the soap had a negative reaction with the substance?” Alex says sharply, looking a little defensive of her science division.

Kara’s just glad to finally be free, and as soon as they’ve dried their arms off she pulls Cat into a hug, unable to resist the need to hold her close. They’d been stuck together for hours, but this feels different.

And from the way Cat doesn’t fight, just wraps her own arms around Kara, she thinks the need is mutual. Whether it’s just catharsis, or whether it has something to do with the shift in their relationship, Kara doesn’t know. But for the first time since Cat had insisted they be purely professional, she’s hopeful they’ll have a chance to figure it out.

And when Cat’s lips press just barely against her neck before she finally pulls back, Kara thinks they both know what’s changed.

#supergirl #supergirl fic #supercat #supercat fic #prompt fill #I don't even remember when I got this prompt #I'm sorry it took so long #And I'm sorry if it sucks

45 notes · View notes