#what is a nuisance

[asweetprologue]

did you guys know that octoroks appear in every zelda title except Twilight Princess

[the-maw-consumes]

waiting.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."

[breezere]

0/0 is.....

[unnonexistence]

hermann thoughts: if i discredit newton and his approach enough, the martial won't give him the equipment for his kaiju drift, and i can protect him from himself. if he despises me for it, so be it. there is little i wouldn't sacrifice to see him safe.

newt thoughts: this is a Best Science competition and i have to Win

[starcurtain]

Woke: Alhaitham sold his grandmother's house and moved into the research center because he didn't like living in an empty home with so many memories.

Also woke: Alhaitham sold his grandmother's house and moved into the research center because it was the last remaining tie he had to Kaveh, and taking ownership of it ensured that Kaveh would have to communicate with him again at least one more time.

[surreal-duck]

es rarepair week 2024 day 4 | angst/domestic

distance and distractions (continuation of this!)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ok, writing request time:

Perhaps someone is captured and there’s a rescue. I love comfort with that type of angst hehe

Link had tasted blood many times.

The first time was when he’d fallen flat on his face in Zora’s Domain while chasing Bazz. He’d also lost his first tooth as a result. But he’d gotten himself hurt plenty of times since then.

It had never been like this, though. The taste stayed, stuck in his mouth because he hadn’t had any way to fix it, he hadn’t been able to drink something. His throat was drier than the sand that was stuck in it, and he coughed a little as he huddled in on himself.

He’d been training and training, yet the moment he was confronted with danger, he’d gotten himself captured. He felt absolutely disappointed in himself and angry.

Worse than anything, though, he felt scared. The thirteen-year-old hadn’t expected to be jumped by these strange men, and they’d dared to try and take the Master Sword away as well. He was so stupid, and now he had the indignity of staring at it through the bars of his cell, reminded that he’d managed to get himself into this mess.

“If he bears the sword, then he has to be the one!” one of the soldiers hissed to the other.

“He’s just a kid, there’s no way,” his companion huffed, crossing his arms.

“Then what about the sword?” The first one asked. “We got information that the sword had chosen a wielder, and this kid has it!”

Link glared at the guards, but he didn’t bother saying anything. His father usually wouldn’t when people were threatening him, after all.

His father. He hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed in him. Link was so angry at himself - he’d fought off almost all of them before two of them had hit him from behind. His head still ached horribly from it.

Stupid or not… he just wished someone would notice he was gone. He had to try to figure out how to get out of here, but he’d never been in a situation like this before.

He couldn’t let his fear stop him from escaping. There had to be a way to break out.

Link took a steadying breath, eyes observant as he ignored the conversation going on between the weird guards. They all dressed the same and hid their faces behind masks that looked like some absurd rendition of the Sheikah symbol. Maybe…

Link’s train of thought derailed as the guards turned their attention to him. He grew more alert, stiffening and straightening his back, waiting for some kind of threat. What had they just said? Were they talking to him?

Whatever they were going to do, they never had a chance. One of them yelped as something whistled through the air, a familiar sound to Link’s ears. He perked up immediately, seeing the arrow that embedded into the guard’s back as the other one drew a sickle, ready to fight. Link shot to his feet, rushing towards the felled guard and reaching as far as he could to get to his keys.

The other guard was stabbed through the chest, and Link recoiled his hand as the man nearly fell on it. When he glanced up, he felt immediate relief flood his entire body, and he almost cried at the sight of the familiar soldier.

“Papa!” He croaked, voice cracking, scrambling to the locked door to his cell.

His father stood in front of him, moving so fast Link could barely keep up, defeating every enemy that rushed into the area. Then he hastily grabbed the key from the dead guards, unlocking the cell, and Link slammed into his embrace. The hug was brief, though, far too brief, before Abel ordered him to get the Master Sword. The pair rushed ahead, and Link saw multiple Hyrulian soldiers fighting the strange men dressed in red.

It didn’t take long to find the exit to the canyon fortress, and Link was limping by the time they got to safety. He’d almost forgotten they’d hit his leg really hard, and it was starting to bother him a lot.

Once they were somewhere safe, Abel immediately dragged Link back into a hug. Link could feel his father’s heart racing against his ear, even through the chainmail, and he let himself shiver as the adrenaline wore off.

“Papa, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, hiding his face so no one else could see his tears.

“Ssh,” his father hushed him gently. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, little knight.”

The relief he felt at those words, paired with the steady and tight embrace from safe arms, wrenched a sob out of the young soldier. His father hushed him again, even softer than before, and then gently pulled away to look him over. Link could hardly see him through the tears, but he couldn’t even express how wonderful it was to just see his father’s face.

He hated how scared he’d been. But…

Warm, calloused hands moved along his forehead, then his cheek, tracing the blood trail from his temple. He watched his father’s eyes harden a little at the sight of it before melting once they made contact with his own.

“Oh, Link,” he sighed a little, and Link let out another quiet sob.

He couldn’t keep crying like this, and he knew it. He’d never really seen his papa cry, and he knew that he was the best soldier there was. He couldn’t break down like this every time there was danger - this was part of his job as a soldier!

His father must have thought the same. He didn’t hug him again, though he wiped the tears away wordlessly, thumb caressing his cheek. Link sniffled and but his lips, trying to get the hiccups under control.

“Where are you hurting, son?” Abel asked softly.

“My head and my leg,” he answered, trying to stop his voice from wobbling. “Papa, I’m sorry.”

Abel’s brow furrowed a little, and he pulled Link to walk with him. The young knight couldn’t really tell where they were, the place was surrounded by cliff-sides and rocks, but they were moving towards an area where he could see more Hyrulian soldiers.

“Link,” his father started, and Link stiffened a little at the gravity in his tone. “I… this is my fault, not yours, so stop apologizing.”

“I got myself captured,” Link argued. And I’m crying about it like some scared little child.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Abel said firmly. “This is not your fault. You fought off plenty of them before they captured you. I’m proud of you… and I’m sorry I let this happen.”

He was sorry? He had no reason to be! Link had defeated plenty grown men by this point, he’d proven he should be able to function like any other foot soldier. It made sense to leave him alone like his father had! This was Link’s fault!

Link found that he didn’t have the energy to push the matter, though. He just wanted to hug his papa again, but Abel didn’t seem in the mood, his own expression dark as he strode into the military camp.

By this point Link had managed to stop crying, and he tried not to attract attention to the tear tracks on his cheeks. Many knights glanced at him worriedly, and a few called out in greeting and relief. Link tried to smile and nod at them before he was guided into an empty tent.

Abel set to work quietly, gently pushing Link to sit on the ground and kneeling beside him. He cleaned the blood off his face, washed it gently out of his hair, and he checked his leg, wrapping it up. Only then did he pull him to his chest, and Link melted into the hold. Thankfully there were no more tears, but he never wanted his father to let go.

They stayed there in silence, with Abel slowly working his fingers through his son’s hair, until Link finally fell asleep, safe in his father’s care.

When the boy’s breathing had steadied, Abel finally let his own emotions spill out, burying his face in his child’s hair.

Goddess above. He’d almost lost him.

I’m such an idiot, he mentally berated himself. Just because the child was an adept fighter didn’t mean he should be left to his own devices.

He couldn’t leave Link alone. Not anymore. He wasn’t just a little boy going on adventures. Not with that sword on his back.

It had only been four months, but the boy was attracting attention now. And Abel was terrified.

He’d have to train Link harder. And he was not leaving his son alone again.

Abel huddled closer to his little knight, never letting go, not as the sun set, not as the crickets started to chirp, not as the world quieted around them. He never let go.

[whump-captain]

it's a beautiful day in the unethical lab and you are a horrible test subject

[millenari]

like every other human being with eyes who's watched cats 98, I always noticed this little split second shot of misto & tugger.

I've seen people theorizing what was going on there, but I never bothered myself because to me it really just looked like the actors not realizing how close they were getting to each other & breaking character momentarily when they did. And the footage was kept in either as a mistake or because someone thought the moment had ~character~.

But I was watching the Cats 98 documentary earlier and I noticed this quick shot which makes that moment actually look like a deliberately directed thing.

Which makes me wonder was the point of it was, it's such a quick and vague little interaction.

[missusfuzz]

The solidarity of never being yourself

[gunsatthaphan]

"keep me in mind though."

[voidcat]

You and your annoying uni friend slash occasional roommate Endo who likes to crash at your place unprompted and unannounced at random times. Despite your pouts and groans you enjoy his presence as much as he does.

He’s an impressive artist with wonderful line work, his newest works always has you waiting to see the end result, watching with great focus as he works on them on your floor in the dead of the night

And he’s great company too. A beer cracked open, snacks all around and it’s just the two of you shittalking others, gossiping and being mean just because you can and oh—

is it not fun to spend time with him like that- to the point he has become perhaps the closest to you. Each others confidants, secret keepers, the number one victim to drag when the other one is trying something new or going to a new place.

So it’s no surprise when you whine about how boring and lonely things have gotten lately and you just miss a good ol heated making out session. Maybe a little handsy if türe feeling up to it, maybe even a little grinding if the night looks promising.

Before the two of you know, your hot breaths are all over each other, Endo’s hands at both sides, pulling you into his lap with strength and pressing you against that aching spot in his pants just to relieve himself as you bite into his neck and mark him up in red

[carionto]

This has probably been transcribed before but I don't know what tags to find it under, so imma just do it again cuz this kind of stuff feels very relevant to know, more evidence that Humans are weird as fuck and our brains just make shit up. [Twitter thread by user named foone as a long image I stumbled upon on Pinterest]: _______________________________

You want to know something about how bullshit our brains are? OK, so there's a physical problem with out eyes: We move them in short fast bursts called "saccades", right? very quick, synchronized movements. The only problem is: they go all blurry and useless during this

Having your vision turn into a blurry mess every time you move your eyes is obviously not a good idea, so our brains hide it from us. Now imagine you're an engineer and you have this problem

You've got some obvious solutions you could do.

make the vision go black during movement. (Some VR games do this!)

just keep showing the last thing we saw prior to movement

Both are good options with different downsides, but OH NO. this is assuming everything makes sense and is chronological and (regular) logical.

Your brain does neither of these options, really.

First, it basically puts your visual system on "pause".

You're not seeing blackness or even nothing, you're just not seeing period.

then when you finish your saccade, it shows you what you now see at the new position. and then it pretends it can time travel.

It seriously shows you the image at the new point, but time-shifts it backwards so that it seems like you were seeing it the whole time your eyes were moving.

And because your brain is not a computer with a consistent clock, this shit works.

You can see this effect happen if you watch an analog clock with a second hand.

Look away (with just your eyes, not your head), then look back to the second hand.

It'll seem like it takes longer than a second to move, then resumes moving as normal.

That's because your freaking visual system just lied to you about HOW LONG TIME IS in order to cover up the physical limitations of those chemical camera orbs you have on the front of your face.

We've known about this effect for over 100 years, it's called "Saccadic masking" and more specifically Chronostasis. Your visual system lies to you about WHEN things happen by up to half a second (!) just to avoid saccades blurring everything.

So while I firmly believe we're basically just overgrown biological computers, we're apparently computers programmed by batshit insane drunkards in Visual Basic 5.

And you might think "hey wait, wouldn't my vision 'pausing' for half a second have all kinds of weird effects on moving objects? why don't they appear to stutter when moving?"

and the answer is simple! your brain has EVEN MORE UGLY HACKS on top of this to avoid you seeing that

If you've got a clock where the second hand doesn't "tick" but instead smoothly rotates, you won't see this. Because your brain recognizes it's moving and adjusts what you see to make sure it sees the "right" thing.

It's only really obvious with periodically moving things like a clock hand, because it's not moving (so not triggering the movement-during-chronostasis hack) but it moves at a set rate, so you can notive that rate appearing to change.

It's tempting to think of your eyes and visual system as a camera just dumping a video feed into your conscious brain but taht's so very, very not the case. What you think you see and what your eyes can actually see are two exceptionally different things.

The big obvious one being the blind spot. Vertebrate eyes are wired backwards so we've got a blind spot in each eye where the enrves enter into the eye. About 6 degrees of your vision in each eye is just not there, as there's no light sensitive cells there.

Do you see a blind spot, right now? No, you probably don't. Close one eye! There's now no way for the other eye to fill in the gaps. Still, no blind spot… Your visual system is lying, and making up content it thinks is there. You literally cannot see what you think you see.

Here's another one: You can see in color, right? (well, some of you can't. Sorry) You can see in color all throughout your vision, it's color everywhere?

Well, most of the cone cells (Which are sensitive to color) are in the fovea, a little spot in the center of your vision.

So outside of that center-of-vision spot, you have very little color perception. There's some but it's very limited compared to your main color vision. But I bet if you shift your attention to your peripheral vision right now, it's in color.

Your vision system is lying. It's remembering what colors things are and guessing and filling in the gaps. It's basically doing a Ted Turner colorization process on your non-central vision.

There's even weird effects like what's called "Action-specific perception". If you get a bunch of white balls of various sizes and toss them at people then ask them to estimate the size of the balls thrown at them, they'll have a certain size estimate, right?

Now repeat the experiment but ask them to try to hit the balls back with a bat, and suddenly all the estimates shift larger. They actually see the ball as bigger because they need to hit it. Their vision is exaggerating it to make it easier to see!

Which just goes to show, like I said, your vision is not a camera. Perfect accuracy is not one of its goals. It does not give any shits about "objective reality", that's not important.

What's important to the evolution of the visual system is any trick that helps you survive, no matter how "dumb" or "weird" it is.

So if you want an accurate visual representation of what things look like? Use a camera. Not your eyes.

In any case the original point was that while you might know this about your eyes being poor cameras that lie to you, you might still think that at least they're consistent, time-wise. They don't screw with your sense of time passing, just to make up for visual defects. NOPE!

If you can't get it don in time, turn back the clock and pretend you did. That's a perfectly good solution when you're the visual system.

BTW @/hierarchon reminded me of a neat trick with saccadic masking: go look in a hand mirror. No matter how close you bring it to your eyes, and how much you look around, you will never see your eyes move. You're blind during those movements. But you still think you are seeing.

She additionally pointed out that your phone's selfie-mode is NOT a mirror, and it has a slight delaye, so you can see your eyes moving in it.

And for fun, here's wikipedia's example of the blindspot. Stare at L with only your left eye, adjust the distance, and the R will disappear. You don't see "nothing" or "black", you see the background, because you expect to.

This is why laser damage your retina can be so insidious. Your visual system already can hide "holes" in your vision, what's one more to hid? So you damage a small spot of your retina and your visual system covers it up.

But since you didn't go "WELL THAT WAS TERRIBLE I BETTER TAKE BETTER CARE OF MY EYES" and stop fucking with lasers, you keep doing it. Eventually you accumulate so much damage that your visual system simply cannot manage hiding it all and your vision rapidly degrades.

The other reason lasers are so dangerous is that they don't necessarily trigger the same responses as regular incoherent light. Your pupil reflex is only triggered by some special cells in the center of your eye, so an off-center laser might not cause your iris to contract.

And infrared laser light is just as dangerous as visible laser light, but can't trigger your blink reflex. Your eyes automatically close when exposed to bright light, but they can't detect infrared light. Despite not seeing it, it still causes damage.

Anyway, back on how amazing and crazy your vision is: There was an experiment back in 1890 where someone wore glasses made with mirrors in them to flip their vision. After about 8 days, they could see just fine with them on. Their vision system had started "flipping" the image.

(I say flipping in quotes because it's not as simple as it started showing the pixels at the top row on the bottom row, cause our vision doesn't work like that) It only took them a few hours to get back to normal after taking these glasses off, though.

The last really fun part about this flipping experiment: your eyes already do it. Based on how our vision is wired, we should be seeing everything upside down.

We don't, but only because our visual system has had a whole life to adapt to this.

BTW, since a few people have brought it up: There's a great sci-fi novel by Peter Watts called Blindsight. In it humans encounter an an alien race they call Scramblers, who can move very fast and precisely, and they exploit saccades.

Because if they only move during saccades, we never see them moving. And since so much of our vision is based on just filling in what we think is there, if they stay out of the direct center of our vision, we'll just visually fill them in, like they were never there.

Check it out if you're into hard SF stories of first contact. It's got some really neat ideas about human vision, very unique aliens, the future of humanity in the face of perfect VR, and vampires. (Really, it has "vampires", while still being hard-SF)

BTW, remember how I said "vertebrate eyes" up there? Guess who has eyes which are wired forwards instead of backwards (have no blindspot), have an internal lens, and can even see polarization of light? Our good friends the Cephalopods!

[zxal]

I feel like this probably goes against the spirit of the meme but i saw the opportunity to draw them and instantly blacked out