#i said that modern computers can run things without a problem

[sophie-baybey]

I don’t think gaming is the main thing people care about here my laptop is nearly unusable because it can’t load a browser or boot any program in less that three minutes like if I can get Minecraft started I can play just fine but I can’t log in to discord or watch a streamed show because my laptop can’t handle websites

ive used 10+ year old non-gaming laptops that can run websites just fine. If you can run minecraft, but not your browser, there's something else wrong with your computer you need to get checked out.

[rodentluvrr]

A helping hand

Pairing: Law x reader Summary: When you're rushing to submit your university application on the last possible day, an unexpected encounter with a tall, tattooed surgeon at a hotel makes everything a bit less/more complicated. CW: Anxiety, procrastination, swearing, college mentioned Word count: 3k+ words Tags: Modern AU, romance, enemies to lovers lowkey, slow burn, humor, surgeon/medical A/N: YOU FREAKS IM BACK‼️‼️ This fic literally happened to me in real life like it's inspired from personal experience —well, unfortunately without the Law part—but it felt like something straight out of a movie/fanfic and it NEEDED to exist out there. Anyway so if any of you want a continuation perhaps....it could turn into a series????😏 I had so much fun writing the dialogue between law and reader. Hope u enjoyyy. Let me know what u think :)

Returning from a short vacation at your parents’ house should have been easy. But today, it felt unbearable. The heat was suffocating, the city streets felt endless, and none of it compared to the real problem at hand—the fact that today was the deadline for your university application.

You had plenty of time. You knew this was coming. And yet, you spent the past week lounging on your parents’ couch, ignoring the looming deadline in favor of doing absolutely nothing. Now, in a desperate attempt to salvage your future, you were running through the city, searching for any open internet café.

Most were closed. They had small hordes of nerdy teenage boys loitering around, waiting for them to open and idly waste the afternoon on video games. When you asked, they shrugged, saying the cafés wouldn’t open for at least another hour.

You didn’t have an hour.

Panic clawed at your throat as you checked the time. If you didn’t register for your third year, you’d be disqualified—or, at the very least, your life would become infinitely more complicated. Your stomach twisted at the thought. Every step you took through the crowded streets felt heavier, more hopeless. You weren’t going to make it.

Then, you saw it. A hotel. It wasn’t fancy—probably a budget-friendly place for travelers passing through. It was your last hope.

You pushed through the glass doors without thinking, zeroing in on the man behind the reception desk. He had been talking to someone when you entered, but their conversation stopped the moment you rushed forward. You didn’t even spare the other man a glance. You didn’t have time for that.

The receptionist listened to your rushed, panicked explanation and, to your surprise, nodded in understanding.

“Actually, the hotel has a computer room available. You can use it,” he said.

Relief flooded you. “Thank you—seriously, thank you.”

He led you to the room, and the moment you stepped inside, your heart sank. It was small, cluttered, barely more than a glorified storage closet. And the computer—God, the computer looked ancient, a relic from the 90s covered in dust.

But you didn’t care.

You sat down, powered it on, logged in, and started filling out your information. Everything was going fine. Until the screen suddenly froze.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“No, no, no. Fuck- You have to be kidding me.” This cannot be happening right now. Someone must’ve cursed you. How could you be so unlucky?

Frantically, you clicked the mouse. Nothing. You pressed a few keys. Still nothing. The whole system had locked up.

Swearing under your breath, you stormed back to the reception. “The computer froze. Can you help?”

The man frowned, following you back into the room. He sat at the desk, clicking a few things, but it was clear he had no idea what he was doing. The more he fumbled, the worse you felt.

Then, sighing in defeat, he stood. “I’ll ask someone.”

You barely paid attention as he left the room and called out into the lobby. “Law?Do you know anything about computers? Come help.”

Heavy footsteps approached. A second later, another man entered the room. It was the man the receptionist had been talking to when you came.

And just like that, your stomach flipped for an entirely different reason.

He was tall. His presence filled the room instantly, suffocating in an entirely new way. He barely glanced at you as he moved toward the desk, but in that fleeting moment, you took in everything. Dark eyes. Tattoos, sprawling up his arms and chest, creeping beneath the open collar of his shirt. And his hands—his fingers were long, marked with the word DEATH, and it was ridiculous, truly ridiculous, how your mind wandered for a second too long about what those hands would feel like around your throat. Something about his presence made it hard to look away.

Your body felt too warm. You blamed the heat.

He sat in front of the computer, working quietly. He moved with precision, like he already knew the problem before even touching the keyboard. The other man had to return to the reception desk, leaving you two alone in the small room.

Then, without looking up, he asked, “What’s your name?”

His voice was deep. Slow. You hated that it sent a small shiver down your spine.

You told him.

He finally glanced at you, shaking your hand. His grip was firm, warm fingers enveloped your hand.

“Trafalgar Law,” he said simply.

You raised a brow. “That’s a mouthful.”

“You can just call me Law.”

Your fingers slipped from his, but he didn’t move away, still focused on the computer.

“So,” he said, “what exactly were you trying to do here, young lady?”

Young lady? You bristled.

“Trying to submit my college application,” you muttered, arms crossing.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Left it for the last minute, didn’t you?”

You scoffed. “Thanks for the reminder, Mr. Perfect.” Your irritation flared. He didn’t know you. He didn’t know anything about you.

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head before his eyes flicked back to you. “What are you even doing here, anyway? You don’t look like a tourist.”

You shifted, hesitating for a moment before answering. “I was visiting my parents. But I’m leaving in a couple of hours.”

His smirk faltered—just for a second, so quick you almost missed it.

“I could say the same about you,” you added, tilting your head.

His smirk widened just slightly. “I’m here for a medical convention.”

That caught your attention. You blinked. “Wait—you’re a doctor?”

His gaze met yours, unreadable. “Surgeon.”

You didn’t know why that information made your stomach flip. Maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he was still looking at you, like he was waiting for something.

The computer’s screen was dark now. The man—Law—tried to turn it back on, but nothing happened. Neither of you spoke.

He held your gaze for a second too long, as if deciding something. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out. You were left with only the hum of the old computer.

You exhaled sharply.

What the hell was that?

Before you could make sense of the moment, he returned—this time carrying a sleek, modern laptop. He set it down on the desk in front of you, flipping it open with one hand.

“Use this,” he said simply.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“The hotel’s computer is ancient. You’re wasting your time.” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Use mine.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have offered.”

His tone was dismissive, like you were wasting his time by questioning him. Rolling your eyes, you sat down and pulled the laptop closer. It was fast, responsive—so much better than the dinosaur of a computer you had been struggling with.

You started typing, fully aware of his presence hovering nearby.

After a minute, you glanced at him. “Are you just gonna stand there?”

“In case you need help.”

You scoffed. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on university applications too?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “No, but considering you waited until the last second to do this, I’d say you could use some supervision.”

You shot him a glare. “I don’t need supervision.”

“Debatable.”

Your fingers tightened around the mouse, and you forced yourself to focus on filling out the application instead of arguing with him. But it wasn’t easy, not when you could feel his gaze lingering, watching your every move.

After a minute, you glanced up, noticing the tattoos creeping out from under his sleeves.

“Seriously?” you said, cocking an eyebrow. “Trying to look mysterious with all that ink? You think that makes you intimidating?”

His eyes flickered to his tattoos before returning to yours. There was something a little smug about the way he smirked. “Maybe I like it,” he said, a glint of challenge in his voice. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

You laughed, leaning back slightly in the chair, eyeing him. “Oh, I’m sure you think it makes you look all tough. But what’s the deal with all of it? Some kind of ‘bad boy’ aesthetic you’re going for?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “It’s not about looking tough. It’s about expression. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Expression, huh?” You smirked, your fingers moving faster over the keyboard, trying to focus. “Looks more like a cry for attention to me.”

His lips curled into a darker smile, the playful tone shifting into something more intense. “Maybe I want people to notice. Maybe I don’t care if you understand.”

“Yeah, I bet. Probably trying to distract everyone from your actual personality,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’ve got some deep, brooding backstory to go along with all this art?”

He gave you a flat look, but the smirk never fully left his lips. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sharing it with someone who can’t even bother to apply to university on time.”

Your head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Oh, you’re gonna bring that up again?”

He shrugged, uncaring. “What can I say? I’m just pointing out the obvious. You seem like the type to talk a big game but can’t back it up when it matters.”

“You’re full of yourself, huh?” You leaned forward, looking directly at him. “Maybe you’re just mad because you’re too busy getting tattoos to actually have any real emotions. Trying to hide behind your ink?”

His eyes narrowed, an edge to his voice now. “You don’t know shit about me.”

You couldn’t help the challenge that rose within you. “Yeah, well, you don’t exactly seem like the type to open up to anyone.”

The tension between you grew, charged and thick, but neither of you looked away. The air was filled with a sharp sort of energy, the kind that made everything feel slightly out of control.

He broke the silence first, his tone still steady but carrying an edge. “What makes you think I want to open up to you?”

You shrugged, lips curling into a taunting smile. “Maybe because you're not as tough as you act. You’re just scared of someone seeing through your bullshit.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze flicking over your face like he was sizing you up. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to the laptop and leaned against the desk again, his posture rigid, as if you’d pushed him too far.

For a few beats, neither of you said anything.

Silence stretched between you, heavy with something unspoken.

Then, he spoke. “You said you’re leaving in a few hours?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My bus is later today.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, but he didn’t move. If anything, he seemed to settle in, as if this was exactly where he intended to be.

Curiosity got the better of you. “So, what exactly do you do?”

He glanced at you, then exhaled through his nose, almost like he wasn’t planning to answer. But after a beat, he did. “I’m a surgeon. I told you, didn’t I?”

Your hands paused over the keyboard. “…Wait, seriously?”

“No, I’m lying for fun.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no mistaking the flicker of surprise that crossed your face. So he wasn’t lying? He didn’t seem much older than you—mid-to-late twenties, maybe—and yet, a surgeon? That explained the quiet confidence, the sharp, assessing way he looked at things.

“Huh.” You returned to typing, still processing the thought. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What does?”

You hesitated, then smirked slightly. “That you act like you know everything.”

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “I don’t act like I know everything.”

“You kinda do.”

“And yet, I was right about you needing help.”

“Wait,” you said, still reeling from the revelation. “How old are you, anyway?”

He paused, clearly considering whether he should answer. “Twenty-six,” he finally said.

You frowned. “And you’re already a surgeon? That’s… impressive.”

He didn’t seem to care much about the praise. “It’s just a job. You’re the one who’s in university, right? What are you studying?”

You stopped typing for a moment, taken off guard by the question. “Psychology,” you said, not quite sure why you were suddenly sharing so much with him. “I’m thinking about specializing in clinical psychology or maybe counselling. Something to help people.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious now. “That’s noble. But it’s not an easy path.”

You smirked. “Well, if it’s worth doing, it was never meant to be easy, right?”

He looked at you, his gaze softening for a second before he turned his attention back to the laptop. “True. But it can be frustrating. Surgery is like that too—people think it’s all glory, but it’s hard. It takes more than just knowledge. There are lives on the line every day.”

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, especially not from someone who was actually living it. “Sounds intense.”

“It is. But you learn to manage it. You have to.” His voice was quieter now, almost like he was lost in thought. “That’s why I’m here, actually. A medical convention. I mentioned it earlier.”

You blinked, still processing what he had said. “A medical convention? Here?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s in the city for a couple of days. Most of it is boring, but it’s part of the job.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “It sounds like the kind of thing you’d be more interested in than, I don’t know, enjoying the city.”

He gave a rare, genuine smile. “Maybe. But I’m not really here to sightsee.” He looked at you again, his expression softening for just a second. “I don’t usually get time to myself, honestly. The job’s demanding.”

There was an unexpected vulnerability in his words, and for a moment, you saw a side of him you hadn’t expected.

Before you could respond, your screen flashed—confirmation. Your application had been successfully submitted.

Relief crashed over you. “Oh my God. I did it.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. It was done. You wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of your own procrastination after all.

Law glanced at the screen, then back at you. He seemed disappointed. Time passed too quickly. “Guess you got lucky.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just let me have this win?”

“If you wanted a win, you shouldn’t have cut it this close.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, but before you could fire back, he pulled out his phone and handed it to you.

You blinked at it. “…What?”

“Your number.”

Your breath caught for a second.

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t even looking at you, as if this was just an afterthought to him. But the way his fingers gripped the phone—just tight enough to betray the fact that maybe it wasn’t as casual as he made it seem—told you otherwise.

You raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ll give it to you?”

He finally met your gaze again, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Call it a gut feeling.”

Damn him.

With a small huff, you took the phone from his hand and started typing.

Law watched as you typed in your number, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. When you handed the phone back, you couldn’t help the smirk tugging at your lips.

“You’re planning to call me? See me again?”

He scoffed, slipping the phone into his pocket. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Oh? Then why’d you ask?”

His jaw tightened for half a second—so quick you almost missed it. Then, with a slow shrug, he muttered, “Maybe I like to keep an eye on people who make dumb decisions.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Right. Because procrastinating an application is a crime now?”

Law tilted his head slightly, studying you. “It’s reckless. But I guess you enjoy living on the edge.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you glanced at the time and felt the reality of your departure settle in. Your bus would be leaving soon.

Pushing your chair back, you stood up, adjusting your bag. “Well, guess I should get going.”

He cleared his throat, as if dismissing the moment, and straightened up. “Anyway, I guess it’s good you’ve got this sorted. You’ve got your bus to catch and all.”

You stared at him, unsure of why you suddenly didn’t want to leave. Something about the conversation—about him—was making you rethink everything.

You hesitated, before speaking. “Yeah. I’ve got to go. But… thanks for the laptop. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes followed you closely. “No problem. Just don’t make a habit of waiting until the last minute next time.”

You shot him a look, but he was already watching you with that unreadable expression again, dark eyes glinting with amusement.

He didn’t say anything at first. Didn’t move, either.

For a man who had spent the last 45 minutes teasing and judging you, he looked… hesitant.

His fingers tapped against his phone in an irregular rhythm, like his body was betraying the indifference he was trying to project.

You tilted your head. “What? No sarcastic comment? No parting words of wisdom?”

He exhaled through his nose. “…Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

There was a pause, a hesitation so thick you could almost touch it. Then, just as you turned toward the door, you caught the slightest movement—his fingers twitching, like he was about to reach out. But he didn’t.

You bit your lip.

Something about the way he held himself, rigid and unreadable, sent a strange, conflicting feeling through you.

You took a step forward, then stopped. Looking back at him, you said goodbye.

You turned back toward the exit, feeling his gaze still burning into you as you walked away.

You left, but that feeling didn’t. Something about the way he’d been so close, his gaze lingering, made you hesitate for just a second.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d ever see him again.

[bekolxeram]

Long sigh......

I've heard that one of the most problematic bnf from the other side of the fandom claimed on Tiktok that Tommy wouldn't be part of the emergency landing rescue because "the controls (of a helicopter and a jet airliner) are different". I know I made a whole thing out of Tommy being a helicopter pilot instead of a fixed wing one. (I even made up a sunshiny airplane pilot ex boyfriend for Tommy, that was fun while it lasted) I have no idea how that bnf makes the logical leap that if Tommy isn't physically solo flying that plane, then he won't be involved at all. He's still a firefighter working with aircrafts at an airport. Unless the writers for some reason don't want Tommy to be in the episodes at all and pull the "not on duty" card, it would actually make less sense for him not to be there.

You know the drill. Don't read further if the discussion of Tommy not being able to fly everything bothers you. Block the tag #aviation realism if this whole topic doesn't interest you. I've hesitated a lot whether I should post my thoughts on this, but I guess this is the last chance to speculate, so here goes nothing. This is my specs for Tommy's involvement in the plane disaster.

First, I want to clarify something. I never said Tommy wasn't on the plane in 2x14. If by flying that plane, you mean actually taking the pilot seat, grabbing the yoke and executing risky low altitude maneuvers over mountainous terrain, no, I don't think Tommy can do it. The thing is, operating an aircraft that size requires a whole team, up to 5 in this case. I can totally imagine Tommy onboard sitting behind the pilots, helping out with navigation or precise drop coordination.

It's possible, even common to transition from flying rotary to fixed wing. JetBlue and Frontier both provide rotor transition programs to veterans, I've also seen a former Army Blackhawk pilot now flies the C-130 for the Coast Guard. Training ex-military pilots to become commercial airliner pilots has a higher success rate and takes less time than training a regular civilian. But you see the problem, none of them have been working as an active firefighter for the past 20 years.

Let's cut to the chase, I don't think Tommy will be landing that plane. In the original film, they decide transferring an Air Force pilot into the crippled 747 is the only option, because they think woman dumb Nancy can't handle it. Aviation technology has come a very long way since the 70s. This MythBusters episode from 2007 proves that not only is it possible for a complete novice to land a jet airliner by following verbal instructions, modern planes are so advanced that they can practically land themselves.

Sure, there probably will be some major damages to the systems needed for a normal landing (landing gear, flaps, brakes, thrust reversers) rendering an autoland impossible, because drama. But then you run into the problem of where the hell is the Air Force. Last season, the Coast Guard was busy rescuing other ships stranded at sea so some LAFD firefighters had to steal a helicopter to search for a cruise ship that didn't call for help. This time, a passenger airliner without its flight crew has a very real possibility of crashing in a densely populated urban area, the whole incident is also reported live on TV news, how can they explain the absence of the Air Force? Even assuming no commercial pilots in the area, including the ex-military ones are willing to do such a dangerous stunt and tether into the cockpit from outside, what's stopping the AIr Force pilots?

I don't think Tommy will be the one instructing Athena through the landing either. You run into basically the same problem. There are plenty of flight instructors of that exact model of aircraft out there better suited for the job. Flying a modern airliner, especially an Airbus, is more like flying a computer than an actual plane. You need someone with intimate knowledge of the plane's flight control systems in order to talk a non-pilot through operating it.

I know, I know, I'm being a killjoy right now, I'm worse than the Tommy haters and I should shut the fuck up, but even if we're going 100% realistic, referring to real life aviation incidents of this scale (Yes, I'm talking about JetBlue 292 again), Tommy is especially going to be part of the rescue.

Real!LAFD deployed a few helicopters in the JetBlue sideway nose gear incident to monitor the airfield and to help coordinate ground personnel/equipment, with a couple more standing by on the ground in case anyone on the plane needed emergency medevac.

I think the first officer might need a chopper ride if they want to save his femoral artery.

In the same incident, a local news copter also helped survey the landing gear issue from the outside. Tommy's helicopter can do that as well.

It's getting too long, but I have a few out-of-universe reasons for why Tommy will likely not play a super major part in this plane disaster arc, I'll just speed through them: Tommy's not a main character when screen time is already tight for the mains (I'd prefer to see him more in later Buck centric eps), he's already saved the day last season, I think production has blown all their budget on the airplane sets, the new trucks and the CGI bees already that they can't fit a helicopter in. (Let alone to replicate the original pilot transferal scene, it was a real stunt, they really got an AIr Force helicopter to dangle a stuntman in front of a flying 747. It was dangerous and hella expensive)

I actually hope Tommy would be working on the ground this time, I would kill to see him working with Buck and the 118, and not in the sky doing his own thing.

[techav]

Sharing a Computer with More Friends

A few months ago I built an I/O expansion board for my homebrew 68030 project with a 4-port serial card to go with it, and got BASIC running for four simultaneous users. It worked, but not as well as I had hoped. I wanted to be able to run two of those serial cards to support 8 total users, but it had proven unstable enough that with just the one card I had to slow down the whole system to 8MHz.

So I designed a new serial card.

I had previously been running this computer without any issues at 32MHz with a mezzanine card with FPU & IDE as well as a video card. The main board by itself can clear 56MHz. Having to go all the way down to 8MHz just didn't sit well with me. I want this machine to run as fast as possible for its 8 users.

I put extra time into reviewing worst-case timing for all components and graphing out how signals would propagate. The 16C554 quad UARTs I'm designing around are modern parts that can handle pretty fast bus speeds themselves — easily up to 50MHz with no wait states on the 68030 bus — assuming all the glue logic can get out of the way fast enough.

Signal propagation delays add up quickly.

My first draft schematic used discrete 74-series logic for chip selection, signal decoding, timing, etc. At slower bus speeds this wouldn't have been a problem. But I want this thing to run as fast as possible. By the time critical signals had made it through all those logic gates, I was looking at already being well into one wait state by the time the UART would see a 50MHz bus cycle begin.

I needed something faster. I was also running low on space on the board for all the components I needed. The obvious answer was programmable logic. I settled on the ATF22V10 as a good compromise of speed, size, availability, and programmability. It's available in DIP with gate delays down to 7ns. Where discrete gates were necessary, I selected the fastest parts I could. The final design I came up with showed a worst case timing that would only need one wait state at 50MHz and none for anything slower.

It ended up being a tight fit, but I was able to make it work on a 4-layer board within the same footprint of my main board, putting some components on the back side. (It may look like a bunch of empty space, but there's actually a lot going on running full RS232 with handshaking for 8 ports).

New problem. I had blown my budget for the project. As much as I love those stacked DE9 connectors, they're expensive. And there's no getting around the $10 pricetag for each of those quad UARTs. Even using parts on-hand where possible, I was looking at a hefty Mouser order.

[jbevren] suggested using ganged RJ45 connectors with the Cisco pinout instead of stacked DE9, to save space & cut costs. [Chartreuse] suggested buffering the TTL serial TX/RX signals to drive the LEDs that are frequently included on PCB-mount RJ45 connectors. Both great ideas. I was able to cut 20% off my parts order and add some nice diagnostic lights to the design.

Two weeks later, I received five new PCBs straight from China. I of course wasted no time setting into starting to assemble one.

I really set myself up for a challenge on this one. I learned to solder some 25 years ago and have done countless projects in that time. But I think this might be the most compact, most heavily populated, most surface mount board I've ever assembled myself. (There are 56 size 0805 (that's 2x1.2mm) capacitors alone!)

After a few hours soldering, I had enough assembled to test the first serial port. If the first port worked then the other three on that chip should work too, and there's a great chance the other chip would work as well.

And it did work! After some poking around with the oscilloscope to make sure nothing was amiss, I started up the computer and it ran just fine at 8MHz.

And at 16MHz.

And at 25MHz.

And at 32MHz.

And at 40MHz.

And almost at 50MHz!

Remember what I said about my timing graphs showing one wait state for 50MHz? The computer actually booted up and ran just fine at 50MHz. The problem was when I tried typing in a BASIC program certain letters were getting switched around, and try as I might, BASIC just refused to 'RQN' my program. It was pretty consistently losing bit 3, likely from that signal having to travel just a tiny bit farther than the others. A problem that will probably be resolved with an extra wait state.

Good enough for a first test! A few hours more and I finished assembling the card.

I did have some problems with cleaning up flux off the board, and I had to touch up a few weak solder joints, but so far everything seems to be working. I've updated my little multi-user kernel to run all 8 users from this new card and it's running stable at 40MHz.

I need to update my logic on the 22V10 to fix a bug in the wait state generator. I would love to see this thing actually running at 50MHz — a 25% overclock for the 40MHz CPU I am currently running. I also want to expand my little kernel program to add some new features like the ability to configure the console serial ports and maybe even load programs from disk.

I hope to bring this machine with a collection of terminals and modems this June to VCF Southwest 2025 for an interactive exhibit that can be dialed into from other exhibits at the show.

[zeravmeta]

Super Sankta 2 Exu sounds like an excellent idea Zerav. For maximum meme, she's a John Wick style Guard- just uses guns to bash in people's skulls.

Super Sankta 2 Exu whose going John Wick style on people is funny but my concept for Exia Alter was always based on like, the concept that Skadi Alter first introduced that we all thought at the time was gonna be the standard fare for alters

My Ultimate Sankta vs Exia 3 concept was based around the idea of a "Bad End" Exia the way Skadi Alter is, where Exia would be further mechanized ala Executor and become an emotionless seraphim-type unit who would essentially be the ultimate Sankta weapon. This would happen as the result of Laterano having some kind of big event that would cause them to pull all remaining Sankta from all corners of Terra for their promised day of ascension where they would leave Terra and all its problems behind, with certain Sankta (Like Exia) essentially being the vanguards and protectors of these people (I essentially just took the idea of the Rapture and assigned it to the Sankta), with the event concept in question being Penguin Logistics invading this holy land to save their girl.

So like. you can imagine how hard ive been popping off with all the new lore reveals we've gotten over the past 2 years. That said, this concept is a little outdated, and just leaving it at that would be no fun

So here's my pitch for how Exia Alter 4: The Quest For Peace would go with modern foresight (added read more because reasons)

The Popes basement computer in Zwillingsturme just let out a directive that they need to gather their best Sankta to fight against the end of the world. This is in conjunction with the last few events squarely tying together Iberia's Seaborn plotline with both Laterano and Siracusa and their dividing faiths. Now, all of this is in conjunction with the hints we've been getting that Penguin Logistics is going to split up (Lappland and Mostima have already flown the coop, and currently the rest are in Siracusa helping Texas the Amogus, but that will likely not last especially bc Exia's own anniversary line all but majorly hints at this split happening because they all got different stuff going on)

If Penguin Logistics splits, Exia will well and truly be left without a support system.

Now, Exia has always been kind of off as far as Sankta go, because for all intents and purposes she shouldn't be out of place: We see just how Sankta tend to act in Guide Ahead, and Exia didn't really seem all that different. Yet, when we look at her history and actions (she was basically kicked out, she was super accident prone which made other Sankta hate her, as part of Penguin Logistics shes constantly drunk, Texas herself says that Exia being an optimist makes her different, etc), she's actually Really different.

Almost like she has an abnormality compared to other Sankta. Me and a few others (check out @annierosaart post here) have speculated on her being different, but we also don't really know WHY: Even if she was suddenly disconnected from the Sankta empathy powers, we don't see any indication of how, and unlike Ezell we don't have any sort of 'wake-up' moment for her.

But given the weirdness about her and her lines, I think I know what the exact nature of her abnormality may be (and heres my pitch) when looking at the most relevant characters who have abnormalities, namely Executor and Arturia, because I think she falls in line with them (shameless plug to my old exia/executor buddies post):

Executor's abnormality is that his emotions are incredibly muted compared to others. He isn't heartless or emotionless, but more that his heart and mind runs on rationale and logic first and foremost, which almost disqualified him from being canonized had he also not been Laternos single most competent man because saint fedex is entirely disconnected from caring about petty things like being racist.

Arturia's abnormality is that she is receptively empathetic to the point she has nothing within her. She can remove the inhibitions of people, and this is in service to understanding them, because she lacks an understanding of herself: She has a grand dream of an empathy for the world even beyond the Sankta Empathy power, and to accomplish this she draws out the emotions that people hide. As a result, she reflects the emotions of others within herself and thus is incredibly empathetic to the point she's also lacking in emotions and a self.

Exia? I think that her abnormality is that she's too emotional, that the emotions she feels are far more amplified compared to others.

I believe this for a couple of reasons: All the weirdness surrounding her aside, whats the one thing that's always defined Exia? Her Rapid Casting EX. It's always been memed about, but simply firing a single bullet from a gun is akin to casting an Arts attack, with guns serving as a type of wand in these cases. Exia is the only character within the series whose been noted to be so fast with her arts and casting.

This post here does a phenomenal job expanding on this point, but Arts are an expression of the soul, they're influenced by emotions and become stronger with them because they are ultimately expressions of the self, which all characters in and of themselves having a "unique" arts inherent to them. Hell, all of Leithaniens arts are based around using musical expression, while Sarkaz are noted for their arts based on souls and memory, with the literal main heroine of Arknights having an empathy based arts superpower.

Exia, having Super Emotion as her Sankta halo abnormality, could explain why shes so good at gun, even without Oripathy, because said emotions are boosting her casting ability. Remember, anyone can use originum arts, it's just that oripathy is needed for them to be able to do it without a casting device.

This heightened emotion could also possibly explain her crush on Mostima, and even why Mostima is so weird/cruel about her: Mostima was simply a childhood friend alongside her and her sister, and yet when she left for Lungmen, Exia was hot on her trails and then waited 4 YEARS to be beside her and meet her again. She joined Penguin Logistics specifically because of Mostima. It's incredibly likely that Exia might have just had a small crush on her that then spiraled heavily because of this, and Mostima (with her chronic backstory-itis letting her find out that the whole Sankta and halo thing is a scam from her op files and events) might even be aware of this aspect of Exia, and may have wanted her to get over it, always leaving to try and make Exia move on but also always coming back because she needs to look after Exia. After all, if Exia had heightened extreme emotions, what are the chances she could die of grief? She already gets drunks regularly, and despite being cheerful and optimistic, Exia is wearing a mask hiding an incredibly depressed individual.

It could also be possible that the reason why Exia never noticed this is because while it doesn't let other Sankta feel her emotions, she can still feel that of others. She's always confused as to why back in Laterano people always accused her of being disingenuous, because can't they feel her emotions? Well, if she has Super Emotions, it could potentially be overloading her halo, so while she can receive signals, they can't be felt by others. Moreover, this mechanical aspect blends in well with her E2 art, where she is the single operator in the game without an animal/living motiff

Even other Sankta have birds and/or human statues and robotic elements (funnily enough, Executor Sniper only has crosses but even then he is clearly being themed as specifically an angel), but Exia? She has her guns, becoming wings as a ring forms with them. She's literally ascending while her wings become darker.

So what does all this mean?

Well, the Pope's basement bonzi buddy just sent out a directive for the Pope to gather the best Sankta to fight against the end of the world, and who else to recruit but a vulnerable, lonely Sankta who was kicked out for being TOO destructive? Exia's profile does make mention that despite appearances, she is also incredibly pious just like other Sankta, and if the Pope himself came knocking, wanting to give Exia a place back in Laterano, and in a high ranking, respected position no less?

She would jump at the chance, not only to be beside her sister (and possibly Mostima), but also to be accepted back into Laterano society.

Executors own halo has a mechanized element to it, where he also gains more parts to it when he goes from normalest man to saint fedex, so he likely underwent some kind of modification to go along with his promotion, especially because he also now carries an Nier Automata companion cube with him straight from the machine

If Exia is to be canonized, she might be adjusted in a similar way by The Law.

She might even be fully altered into becoming Laterano's perfect weapon to fight against the end of the world. The Witch King himself describes this approaching threat as a void of infinite knowledge which seeks to eliminate them, an unshakeable truth of existence that drives people insane.

The Creator must perish.

What better weapon to fight against such a thing than one who feels her own emotions so strongly she cannot be swayed? Or better yet, an equally as unshakeable, emotionless machine?

[phoenix]

Wanna help cheer up a disabled trans woman in these dark days?

I am gonna need a new computer by next October. It looks like I can pull off my usual bills and such over the winter, but this one thing is just so far out of my reach by that time.

I'm asking for 1500 dollars and if you can help out here's the link to my Kofi page. And I know that's a lot, so let me explain...

One can argue how much of a "need" a new computer is, and I get it. But as I said, I'm disabled, and my computer is literally my lifeline. I spend genuinely 75% of my waking hours on it. It is where I do my work, it is how I connect to people, it is how I get groceries, it's how I unwind and entertain myself. To me, a computer is an essential part of my life. Some of that can be done from a tablet, sure, but let's just say that is far from an optimal method.

So why do I need a new one? Well...Microsoft is ending support for Windows 10 next October, and while my computer is actually in good shape, it's NOT capable of upgrading to Windows 11. And once support ends, running a Win10 computer on the open internet becomes increasingly risky without security patches. And all the upgrades needed at this point, it really does reach the "might as well get a new one".

Why don't I switch to Linux? Well, quite frankly, I (mostly) like Windows, despite their flaws, and yes I am aware with the issues with 11. A lot of the stuff I do still requires Windows, in at least a way I am comfortable doing. I don't really want to learn a whole new operating system, and the hurdles one encounters with running Linux.

And yes, there ARE ways to loophole around upgrading to Windows 11, but that has it's own series of challenges, and could mess up my computer, so it's not exactly an option I want to risk.

Also, I know, whoa, that sure is a lotta money, can't you get a basic computer for much less? Yes, but again, this is where I do almost everything from. While a lot of that is just web surfing and writing, that's not the end of it. I need a computer that can handle more intense usage, for the few times I use editing software. Also, I do occasionally game on it, so having something that can handle that a well, is needed. With the amount of time I spend on it, I want it to be as solid and comfortable to use as possible.

This is also why I'm not looking for a secondhand computer either. I don't want to "inherit someone else's problems" as they say, and since my issues are in using an older computer that runs perfectly fine otherwise, getting an older used computer seems like not the solution I need.

This is also an investment. If I get a good modern computer, it will literally keep me going for 10 or so years, just like the one I am using right now, and the one before it.

I know the sort of computer I'm looking for, I know about the range it costs, and they tend to run around 1300. I'm asking for a bit more just to cover any fees Kofi might take, and any shipping charges and whatnot I run into.

If you can give, great, it is appreciated, but if all you can do is spread the word, that's also great. I've got a year, so a slow trickle of support won't be a bad thing, and can spread things around to a lot of people over a lot of time. Even just getting to 1000, I might be able to fill the gap, but am asking for the whole goal just in case things go wrong.

Without a computer, it will become increasingly difficult for me to do much of anything or even be online. It is literally my connection to the world.

[turtlemagnum]

there's this online recreation of the sans fight that i played religiously back in middle school before i even owned a device capable of running undertale, still up. i got good enough at it that under normal circumstances, i can usually do it first try. a bit of a banging my head against a brick wall thing, but damn did it eventually break. honestly i think doing that before ever actually playing undertale was a bit like goku training in 100x gravity, except instead of landing on namek to fight frieza he went and fought raditz again and just absolutely wrecked his shit. at least, until i got to undyne, still not great at her. god i love her. adhd, getting distracted, i had a goddamn point i was trying to make. so, notice that i said "under normal circumstances" as a caveat. what i would consider not normal circumstances would be, say, playing with fucked up arrow keys. such as, the ones that seem to be on every goddamn modern laptop where up and down are both collectively taking up the same amount of real estate as a single normal key, because apparently right shift needs that extra fucking space. like seriously who the fuck even uses right shift, top 10 useless keys right there, right next to caps lock and most of the function keys. guess i've just gotta suck it up until i can afford to get an actual gamer laptop and not a budget office clunker that i got for the admittedly nice CPU

honestly like, i think my ideal laptop would be halfway between the Ultra Gucci Gamer shit and what i have now. give me like, 16 gigs of RAM, a decent CPU for emulation, a low end but modern and power efficient discrete GPU, and a big fuckin SSD. no RGB shit, just a power waste, though i do like having backlit keys at times i think the more efficient way to go about it would just paint em with something glow in the dark. is glowstick fluid toxic to get your hands on? i remember hearing about a guy who died because he injected that shit at a rave, but i don't know how much of that is This Shit Is Poison vs Dont Put Things That Arent Blood In Your Blood Sacks You Moron, y'know. for some reason radium popped into my head, but after thinking about it for more than an instant i'm like 85% sure that shit's what done killed marie curie, and now i can't help but imagine that's something elon musk would tell his engineers to do. "yeah. just a, uh, gamer key-board. with, radium paint on the lettering. saves power, good for the planet." what was i saying

anyways yeah like. the only other specs i can think of would be just having as many ports as possible, 1080p screen @ 60hz, y'know the bare minimum in Current Year. i will say that my current laptop has given me problems with screens i've never had on a computer before, there have been times where i see something i know for a fact is a different, more saturated color on other screens and having it be barely different from the background. also? i want that motherfucker bulky god dammit, i'm tired of everything being thin and light and having absolute dogshit battery life. i miss when i could charge my gameboy once a week and have it entertain me the entire goddamn time, y'know. i'm lucky if i get half a day of consistent use out of a laptop or my switch without charging it, y'know. to be honest, you should be able to murder someone with your technology. i could kill a man with a gamecube or the PC my dad left me as a kid, if i tried to bash a man's skull open with my laptop the laptop would take more damage than the skull. like don't get me wrong, it'd fucking hurt, but i'm not sure there's any singular component in this thing less than 95% cheap polymer by volume. a goddamn disgrace, lemme tells ya. back in ancient rome we had the technology to build bridges strong enough to still be used today, there are guns from the world wars that you can shoot to this day, you're tellin me you can't make a laptop sturdier than a saltine cracker? well, i'm pretty sure they're mostly designed by crackers, so i guess i can't blame em too hard for their inadequacies. such is lief i suppose (sic)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Further thoughts that didn't fit in the initial review:

Lost World is the better adventure story, getting the characters to the island and facing major problems almost right away. I'm torn whether that or Jurassic Park is the better novel overall, because Lost World has better writing and thematic coherence but IMHO Jurassic Park has a stronger plot and cast.

It fascinates me that the prologue hinges on Carter (and her PAs) not knowing that "raptor" can refer to dinosaurs as well as birds of prey. Because nowadays — thanks to Jurassic Park — "raptor" is so synonymous with dinosaurs that that's most people's first association, even when you're talking about modern birds.

Maybe I read too much fantasy, but I do feel like Harding Sr. has tons of wasted potential. His expertise is potentially more valuable even than Muldoon's, and even if he doesn't know a ton about human medicine he still knows more than anyone else on the island. He almost literally gets put on a bus — Muldoon has a line about him having been evacuated hours ago, offscreen, when getting Grant et al to the helipad — and it feels like the story loses sight of him. Then again, maybe it's just that Harding Jr. is one of my all-time favorite characters in fiction (reading Lost World, I am Kelly) and I want more of her dad.

Most of the changes in the movie align well with the book thematically — again, Crichton knows Hollywood and knew how to sign that deal — but one that I want to commend is tweaking Lex's character. She's kind of a plot moppet in the book, so having her be the one to fix the computers in the movie felt like better pay-off.

It's delightful watching Hammond lose his park and his life because a) he refused to pay Nedry fairly, and b) he refused to hire enough employees to run the place properly. Maybe in the real world shitty corner-cutting managers don't get eaten by compies, but it's awesome fantasizing about that being the natural consequence of corner-cutting.

You know what else is delightful? Ice cream made with fresh ginger. I tried it after reading this book, and would recommend.

I love how the movie gets around the limitations of the technology to imply things that can't be shown onscreen. We still haven't figured out a good way to film animals that move as fast as the T. rex is described as moving (slow-mo is the only workaround). So the movie has the characters in a Jeep driving at 60 MPH, and shows the T. rex in the rearview mirror, gaining on them. It gets the point about "slow dinos are a failure of human imagination" across, without having to speed up the film of their T. rex puppet.

Crichton isn't super funny, but he has his moments. Malcolm's "You know, at times like this one feels, well, perhaps extinct animals should be left extinct. Don't you have that feeling now?" as he's watching the T. rex advance on their car — gets me every time. Fuck off, Cassandra.

Someone assumed I was joking when I said the book's plot hinges on trans lesbian velociraptors. I am not, in fact, joking.

I really want you to get started on Jurassic Park now after reading your tags.

All right, you asked for it! This post is going to be long because I've been rereading Jurassic Park since I was about 10 years old. But. My thoughts:

Jurassic Park is the oldest story in the world: one about hubris, and the price men pay for their pride. From the first moment the protagonists step foot on the island, they can see it. There are poisonous plants next to the pool because they "look pretty." The harbor has no retaining wall because tropical storms aren't considered important. It's a story where you respect nature, or you die. Wu doesn't bother to learn the dinosaurs' names before breeding them, Nedry ignores them as unprogrammable, Malcolm mansplains them to their own creators, Regis laughs at the idea of them escaping, Hammond relentlessly monetizes them, Arnold insists he can control them... And they all get eaten by dinosaurs. It's the characters with the good sense to be overawed and scared (Muldoon, Gennaro, the paleontologists, the kids) who make it out alive. Almost paradigm.

More specifically, it's a book about the most fundamental principle of engineering: be scared, be confused, and then do something anyway. Then do something else, then something else, until something works. Timmy isn't a master hacker in the book; he's just (unlike Grant) willing to push buttons on the computer until he finds the power grid. Gennaro's still a scaredy cat in the book, but he clenches his teeth and goes into the velociraptor nest anyway. The heroic characters are the ones who conclude someone has to do something, despite not knowing what that something is. The villainous ones are the ones who refuse responsibility.

Speaking of which, can we talk about Ian Malcolm? I'm a sucker for a good Cassandra character, especially one that manages to get even the genre-savvy reader rolling their eyes and going "will you shut up?" And Malcolm is one of the best, every off-putting academic habit rolled into one: He thinks he's better than other people for not liking sports. He brags about not caring about appearances and then comments on Sattler's legs. He assumes Hammond has read his monograph and — when Hammond reveals he hasn't — pulls out a copy that he keeps on his person at all times to have Hammond read on the plane. He smugly explains that other characters should've foreseen they'd be killed by dinosaurs, only to be killed by dinosaurs. He calls his theory the Malcolm Effect. I do love Jeff Goldblum's gentler, more charming take on the character ("See, here, now I'm sitting by myself, talking to myself, that's chaos theory" I say literally every time I ask a question of someone who just left the room). But I prefer the way original Malcolm gets away with being right about everything because we so so badly want him to be wrong.

Speaking of that comment about the legs: by the low low bar of 80s/90s thriller writers, Crichton is surprisingly progressive. Jurassic Park invites us to laugh with (and roll our eyes with) Sattler, every time someone expresses shock the world's top paleobotanist is a woman. The Lost World perfectly captures the "women in STEM have to be twice as competent to get half the respect" dynamic, and it's a story about the male characters over-estimating their own competence as the female ones go about saving the day. Race isn't handled perfectly, but it is discussed in both books. Malcolm's chauvinism is designed to make everything else he says a bitter pill, to poison us against him. Crichton's no feminist. But Sattler's hardiness — later Harding's and Kelly's as well — are shown as hard-won in a world that batters nerdy girls so hard that only the toughest survive.

And Malcolm is just one of the many ways Jurassic Park masterfully lampoons scientific bullshit. After little Tina is bitten by a "strange lizard" and nearly dies from the swelling, Dr. Cruz assures her parents that lizards bite zookeepers all the time, that some people are allergic to lizard venom, and that the lizard Tina drew resembles a basilisk — and then we cut to him talking to his fellow MD. Where we find out that lizards don't attack humans in the wild, no human they know of has ever been hospitalized for a lizard bite, basilisks aren't venomous, and Tina's condition doesn't resemble an allergic reaction. They have no idea what this "lizard" (a Procompsognathus) could be or how it poisoned this kid, but they've been taught to obfuscate rather than admit that. Scientists are arrogant, and ignorant of their ignorance.

But the book is every bit as positive about empiricism as it is negative about individual scientists. The seamless way Crichton blends science fiction with science fact gets me every time. His preface connects Watson & Crick to Swanson & Boyer to Malcolm & Levine, explaining each step of the research process as he goes. He goes on to explain how Genetech developed its ideas from IBM, and that IBM and Genetech both contributed to InGen, which in turn influenced Biosyn, funded by Hamaguri... and only two of those names are fictional, but don't worry about which. Crichton does his homework, and then he presents his homework in the most compelling way of any writer I've ever encountered.

You need no further proof than the technologies — satellite phones, electric cars, touchscreens, gene editing — that were sci fi in 1990, commonplace today. Crichton did the reading. And he rolls that science out ever-so-slowly: dribbling first the mystery of the worker with a 3-foot gash in his torso who claims a bird of prey did it, then the mystery of the resort that needs the world's most powerful data storage, then the mystery of the billionaire who calls in the middle of the night with "urgent" questions about what baby dinosaurs eat... Until even 10-year-old me could look at that picture of a fractal and go "ohhh, I see how the unstable phase shifts of chaos theory explain the fact that a thunderstorm caused that guy to get eaten by a T. rex." Almost paradigm.

And all Jurassic Park's banging on about chaos theory belies a deep understanding of how interconnected ecosystems are. Animals, like plants, like subatomic particles, must be understood holistically. Pretending that the best way to learn the truth of any system is through breaking it down "is like saying scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast is human nature. It's nothing of the sort. It's uniquely Western training." Crichton clearly loves biology: "a single fertilized egg has a 100,000 genes, which act in a coordinated way, switching on and off at specific times, to transform that single cell... A house is simple in comparison. But even so, workmen build the stairs wrong, they put the sink in backward, the tile man doesn't show up when he's supposed to. All kinds of things go wrong. And yet the fly that lands on the workman's lunch is perfect." And he clearly hates what capitalism has done to biotechnology.

Hammond the venture capitalist is a perfectly despicable villain: No dinosaurs have escaped, because I said so. If there are problems, no there aren't. Put on a good show for investors, no matter how many contractors die in the process. Talk about all the "good" the park will do by making tons of money. The kids are stranded and the tech expert's dead? No they're not, because I said so, now pass the ice cream. It's truly a delight watching him get eaten by dinosaurs.

For that matter, Jurassic Park is bursting with details of style over substance. There are cutesy Apatosaurus cutouts in the hotel rooms and bars on the widows, a half-finished restaurant covered in Pterosaur poop, and a celebrity-narrated tour track that can't synchronize with the dinosaurs. It's trying to be Disney World, and it's actually a roadside zoo. The signage — "When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth," the hand-lettered "Welcome to Jurassic Park", the room (and department) called "Control" — isn't subtle in its irony. But it is fun.

Which is yet another great sci fi trick. "Our funding is infinite but our peer review sucks" perfectly sets up the blend of the accurate with the plot-fueling (likely why Crichton reuses it several times). Why are there Pterosaurs in a dinosaur park? Our funding is infinite but our peer review sucks. Why are so many Cretaceous dinosaurs in Jurassic Park? Our funding is infinite but our peer review sucks. You didn't know Dilophosaurus is venomous? Our funding is infinite... It's perfect, because it's the opposite of how the scientific process usually works. Again: Crichton knows his shit, and he knows how to communicate it.

Like, even when I'm reading Sphere or Terminal Man — books where I'm perfectly aware I know more than Crichton on the subject, not in the least because their science inevitably became outdated — I still find myself believing, at least for the length of the story. You don't have to suspend disbelief when reading Crichton's work; he hoists it into the stratosphere for you. Half the time he won't give it back even after you're done. Almost paradigm.

But despite all that nerdery, Jurassic Park is still a rocking adventure story that builds momentum until it smashes to its conclusion at 70 miles an hour, ending the millisecond it can do so with not a word of denouement. You can practically hear that last deep piano note on the final words. It's cinematic as hell. This is Crichton post-Westworld, pre-Twister, the ultimate adventure writer. He reads, clearly, avoiding the errors of sci fi amateurs who watch too many movies (the T. rex has a distinctive smell, the island is relentlessly humid, so on) but he knows how to make a tight fast-moving story that you can consume in under three hours. His imagery is powerful, his pacing is on point, and his plot sucks you in and shoots you out like a water slide.

Jurassic Park is fun. It's informative. It makes you laugh, and gasp, and sigh, and think. It has its flaws (Harding Sr. fades out in the 3rd act, Grant's Maiasaura expertise never pays off) but those are minor in a book that stands up so well to rerereading. Almost paradigm.

[genshinsidepiece]

Top Thoma (Punishments)

I have eternal brain rot for this man. Sorry, not sorry.

Thoma as a dom/top is an intriguing to me. For as sweet and as wonderful as he is, there’s definitely a darker side to him. There's evidence of it in his hang out and in his voice lines.

Not proofread.

NSFWish under the cut. Minors DNI. 18+

I'm not saying he's a full on top, but I can run with the theory that he’s a switch. He has to be able to play both sides of the fence considering that he probably f*cked his way across Inazuma to get what he wants.

The biggest thing for him is control. He doesn’t necessarily have it in his working life, so I feel like he would want control over his personal life. One way he achieves said control is that he has rules. They aren’t strict rules, the tamest ones could be don’t leave your dirty dishes in the sink, use a coaster, make the bed, don’t be lewd in public, etc. But he could also be into having you waiting on your knees for him, not allowing you to play with yourself, s*ck his b*ner off first thing in the morning, etc.

For you, he expects his rules to be followed and he expects you to manage yourself. He can’t babysit you, so if you make a bad choice, that’s on you. He’ll allow the occasional slip because he’s not above reason. He understands shit happens and you’re always given the chance to explain yourself first. If you have a good enough reason or show enough remorse, he might let you off. Might. Don’t take advantage of his generosity though. This man has zero free time. He won’t tolerate brats or people giving him shit. (Unless it’s in a playful sense.) If he’s with you, he wants to enjoy his time with you. He won't take kindly to having to punish you and then re-explain his rules to you over and over again.

If a rule or a series of rules become a problem for you, he's 100% willing to examine why it's a problem and change it so it's more manageable for you.

The same thing goes for things you find unfair. He will hear you out if you raise the issue with him and change if need be.

The rules are there for a reason, but he also wants you both to be happy. That isn't possible if he doesn't listen to you and your needs. He just expects the same respect in return.

He likes to control your body and your reactions to different stimuli. He’s into things like light spanking and wax play. Also, Bondage, Temperature Play, Orgasm Denial, Edging, or Over Stim are all part of his fun. For him, they aren’t punishments. He views them as ways to enhance your mutual experience.

If he’s going to take the time to punish you, he would make sure you don’t enjoy it.

For the record, he doesn’t like punishing you. It’s a waste of time, but he is not above doing it. Bear in mind, he would never intentionally hurt you. He’s not that kind of person.

Just some examples of Thoma's punishments are…

Using soap as a gag

Hold a coin on a wall with your nose. (Bonus points if decides to take your hands away from you)

Take away your favorite book or your phone, tablet, computer (modern au)

Sitting/Kneeling on uncooked rice. He’ll lay it out in a nice pattern so it isn’t an unkempt pile. Plus think how pretty you’ll look after you kneel on it for twenty or so minutes. Once you’re done he’ll make you clean it up.

Slips partially melted ice cubes inside of you and then makes you walk around the estate or public in shorts or a skirt while they melt out of you. (Can be with panties or without)

Straight up Ignores you.

He’s always careful of your mental health, especially with the last one. He knows the psychological impacts, so he never takes it too far. If he feels it’s too much, he’ll stop and take different approach. Once he’s sure you’ve learned your lesson, he’s all cuddles and chocolate.

[anika-ann]

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much. 

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him.  You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow---  oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock---  if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.  

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly.  You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway.  I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

[darklingichor]

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir **MAJOR SPOILERS**

So, this is a first, I've never written a revisit this fast.

I do often read or listen to an especially good book, again, right after I finish it. Usually because I can't get into another book until I do.

I did it with Lamb, and I did it with the Martian.

This one is going to be chock full of spoilers, I really want to analyze the main characters in this book, and I can't do that without going into details. This is why I marked the hell out of this.

Project Hail Mary is even better the second time around. This is often the case. Books are like soup. The leftovers from the fridge are often even better than when you had it the first time.

*SPOILERS* *SERIOUSLY SPOILERS TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS BOOK* *SPOILERS* *THE REST OF THIS RAMBLE WILL RUIN THE BOOK* *SPOILERS*

Okay, so run down.

The book opens with our main character waking up to an annoying computer asking him basic math questions. This is detecting cognitive function, that's my guess anyway.

Our character quickly discovers a few things. First, he's in a room with robot arms tending to him, including unhooking him from various life support systems as it figures out that he is awake and functioning. He's not alone in the room, there are two others, but they are long dead. And he has no idea, who he is, where he is, or why he's there.

What follows for a little while is what I would call a psychological screwball comedy. It takes him several days to work out that his name is Ryland Grace and he is a microbiologist PhD who had a falling out with the academic community and found his calling as a Jr. High science teacher. Though exploration, experiments, and memory flashes, he works out that he is on a spaceship, the corpses were his crewmates, and he is on a mission to Tau Ceti to save earth from an alien algae like creature, called Astropgage, that is dimming the sun and setting earth on the course to an ice age that will begin to wipe out humanity in 30 years. Tau Ceti, which is 12 light years away from earth, is resistant to this energy sucking algae.

We get all the backstory of how he became a crew member aboard the ship Hail Mary, in flashbacks as his memories return. A big memory that returns? Project Hail Mary is a suicide mission, he will not be going home.

In the meantime, he is slowly trying to figure out how to save earth, while he does this, he sees a very weird spaceship and meets an intelligent alien being. This being (Grace calls him Rocky) comes from a world (Earid) that is in the same situation as Earth. Together, Grace and Rocky have to work out how to save both of their home worlds.

Ryland Grace is a complex character, he’s very very different from Mark Watney (I haven't read Artimis so I can't make comparisons to those characters).

The Martian points out that Astronauts are inherently noble, willing to risk their lives for science and a good cause.

Grace is not an astronaut. That's not to say that he isn't a good person, just that he is an average person. He can be all at once self-sacrificing and selfish.

Early on he is drafted into the research team on what would be called Astropgage as a science expert by Eva Strat, a woman in charge of figuring out what is going on and how to stop it.

Once he was released from his part in this research, he goes back to teaching, only to be struck by the fact that his students would be in their early forties when all hell breaks loose, and that they might die. He then goes back to Strat and demands to be part of the research again.

This back and forth happens a few times in the story. In fact, it becomes a big part of it. See, the crew of the Hail Mary were put into comas to ensure that they would not go nuts and kill each other on the 12 light-year (four years from their perspective) journey, a medical company discovered that 1 in 7000 people have the genes to survive long comas and still function when they wake up. Grace is one of those people, but he is not volunteering for this mission. It's not that he doesn't care, or even that he doesn't want to help, it's that he's scared. And who wouldn't be? But honestly? I think Grace has imposture syndrome and is generally very sensitive. He realized that his kids would suffer, after starting to teach a class, that speed him to become a part of Strat's team again. Events happen that lead him to being the only logical candidate for the science expert aboard the Hail Mary. He refused, Strat basically kidnaps him, sets the computer induce amnesia in only Grace and plunks him on board.

Before she does this, she harshly calls Grace out.

“Do you think I don’t know you, Dr. Grace?!” she yelled. “You’re a coward and you always have been. You abandoned a promising scientific career because people didn’t like a paper you wrote. You retreated to the safety of children who worship you for being the cool teacher. You don’t have a romantic partner in your life because that would mean you might suffer heartbreak. You avoid risk like the plague.” (pg. 392 Kindle Edition)

This all seems to be true, but we don't know Grace's full story. Other than a mention of one girlfriend in college, and brief mentions of friends, There is nothing in the book about his life before he started teaching. This could be because the amnesia has left those things fuzzy, but in my head, it's because he doesn't want to think about it. Maybe he had a bad family life, maybe he had *no* family life, maybe he had an early tragedy. Maybe he realized his short comings and that, no matter his talent, he just didn't have the temperament for acidemia.

He does like being the cool teacher, he does say he likes being looked up to, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. He's a *good* teacher.

I had cool teachers before I switched to home school. They weren't all good. I had one that would literally just let us mess around during class because they didn't want to actually grade papers. Cool to a kid? Absolutely! Good for education? Not on your life.

Grace isn't like that, he loves science, he loves teaching, and the kids are learning.

He doesn't like animal testing, he's emotional at the fragility of humanity. In short, in his quiet way he loves life.

He leaves his comfort zone to be a part of Strat's team because he knows he's good at what he does and he couldn't look at his students and knowing they could die when he could help prevent it. That doesn't mean he thinks he will be Earth's savior, just that he can help.

He's unwilling to die.

Usually in books and movies, this translates to coward, but really? It's not. Most people wouldn't volunteer for a suicide mission, especially one this pressure filled. "So, we need you to go into a coma, go to a different solar system, save your whole species, and then kill yourselves so you won't starve to death. We good? Cool."

You can't fault a living being for wanting to live. Plus, the other crew members had time to think it through, really decide, make peace with the decision and *then* carry through with the training. Grace? He was given the training, but Strat always said it was for the science of the mission. She was a little like Dumbledore, in that she was training him in case he had to go, but never told him it was a possibility. When it became clear that he was the choice for the vacant spot, he was given less than five hours to decide, and then was told he had no choice.

He makes noble choices throughout the book, but that one choice was not his own, because Strat was given absolute power and used it absolutely.

I can't say that Strat is a villain, either. She was elected to save earth and given the power to cut through any red tape. Handed all this authority, she doesn't become corrupt, she uses this power ruthlessly, but always with the only goal being Save Earth, full stop, that's it. And even as Grace, understandably terrified, yells at her she tells him that she likes him, that she knows that he is a good man, that he will give this  his all. She doesn't *want* to send this unwilling and scared man on a suicide mission. She *has* to. Strat is also complex, she is not nonsense and is committed to her role in saving humanity. I like the reason she gives as to why, toward the end of the book. She got her undergrad degree in history. She takes to heart the old saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The climate scientists and their models assumed survival based on the idea that all countries will work together for the common goal. However, Strat points out that history shows that that ideal scenario, is not likely to work. She says that most wars, up until very recently, were fought over food, and resulting in famine.  As the sun loses energy and crops fail, there will be wars, and they will be over food. And that is what she is desperately trying to avoid – the horror of history brought to the modern day.

I started as a history major, and history is interwoven into anthropology – I understand this perspective.

I am not going to get into politics, but I’ve experienced the agonizing frustration of watching history repeat itself, more than once in the last couple of years. Guessing at how something will probably go due to how something lines up with a similar event in the past and knowing that if someone in power would just listen it might turn out different, or that the eventual problems could at least be prepared for, and watch it happen anyway and everyone act surprised. It’s enough to make you pull your hair out.

Strat has the knowledge and the authority to act on it, I can’t say, that in her position I wouldn’t act the same way.

That is the major difference between Grace and Strat: viewpoint. By necessity of her position and by virtue of her education, she sees the big picture clearly, Grace, however, doesn’t. He’s a microbiologist, his entire career and education is looking closely at the small things and how they would translate to big things. He studies the universe by studying the smallest things in it. It is no surprise that he would need the smaller things to make the bigger things to snap into focus. When he was forced to start research on astrophage, it wasn’t until he was faced with the small scale (his kids could suffer) to make him see his part in the grand scheme of things. Strat is right, he does avoid risk, because he’s avoiding pain, he doesn’t let things in because he feels too much. Yes, the realization about the kids, puts steel in his spine, but not before he narrowly avoids a break down. For Grace, seeing Strat’s point of view, without being able to work it though to his scale, is like yelling at someone standing too close to a mountain for not being able to see the peak. It just can’t be done from where they are.

It makes me wonder, had Strat been up front with Grace, would he have willingly gone? It takes him a while to come around to the idea of helping the project in the first place. If he were told sooner, given some time, had been able to go home, and think, I feel like he would have gone. Something would have set him on the course. Maybe it would have been one of his former students, telling him about their plans for trying out for high school track, or going to college,  maybe he would have gone to his usual cafe for breakfast and found out that one of the waitresses had just gotten engaged, maybe he would be told these things and see the fear and desperate need to keep life as normal as possible in the person's eyes, and then he would decide, if, on the off chance  no one else could go, he would. Until he remembers his refusal, nearly at the end of the book, he accepts quickly that he volunteered for the mission. Of course, that could have been simply because he couldn't imagine someone forcing someone into something like that, but even as his memories and sense of self come back to him, he doesn't have a sense of terror or blind panic at the fact that he's not going home. I would think that if his unwillingness were something hard wired into his personality, he would know soon after remembering who he is, that he would have never considered being a part of the voyage.

So, I think, had Strat told Grace early on that he had the coma resistant genes and that there was a small possibility that he may have to be the backup for the backup, and then allowed him to come to terms with it, he would have gone without the drama. Don’t get me wrong, there is the possibility that he would have run off and had to have been hunted down, but I think, just like when he went to his class and saw his students, something would have made his conscious kick in, and he would have come back.

That might have been interesting, him running scared for a little while and then coming back? Might have given a little more background into why he is the way he is. But that’s not really what this book is about, I think it’s a forgone about conclusion that Grace would have helped, but what’s really interesting is how Grace and Rocky work together.

Rocky is cool! I love that Weir didn’t go the easy route with the creation of an alien character. Rocky is no Roswell gray with a humanoid form. No no, for our sympathetic alien, we have a spider like creature with liquid mercury for blood who “sees” with echolocation and speaks in musical notes. And it works!!

Rocky is expressive and funny and is great with Grace. It’s hilarious, other than the Russian scientist on Project Hail Mary, he doesn’t get along with anyone as well as he does with Rocky, out of everyone in the book, Grace connects most with a spider shaped rock being, he has to make a computer program to speak with.

Rocky is a tad steadier than Grace, but that makes sense simply because of the two, Rocky knew what he was getting into, and Eridens not only have more time before their star dims to the point of causing a problem, but also, they live a long long time, so, Rocky knows he is going home. But the steadiness is also built into his personality. He and Grace are both analytical problem solvers, but seeing that Rocky is an engineer, his focus is to fix things. A problem arises, and his first reaction is “I will fix that.” He won’t be dissuaded until he has all avenues exhausted.

Grace has a habit, early on, of moping for a little while before rallying and getting to work. His interaction with Rocky brings that pouting time down a bit, and he even pulls Rocky out of a slump a time or two.

The relationship between these two is interesting because Grace says flat out that he is not a social person, he feels awkward in groups with people. But he easily communicates with his students, and he easily communicates with Rocky. Rocky is not childlike, but he does have something in common with the students, Grace, like any teacher, teaches his students, and learns from them. Grace teaches Rocky and learns from him. Grace is comfortable with this sort of interaction; with his students this is where the relationship stops. With Rocky, it doesn’t have that boundary. By virtue of the fact that both are alone in space and crave interaction, they talk a lot. Also, activities that Grace is use to doing alone, Rocky’s culture requires to be done in pairs. The biggest: Sleeping.

Eridens do not sleep without another person watching them. So, he insists that he watch Grace sleep and that Grace watches him. It is not expressly said what other things Eridens don’t do alone, but it is implied (at least to me) that they work better in pairs or in groups. This is true of humans as well, but Grace in particular is a loner, even as he complains that science doesn’t happen with one scientist doing the work (and he’s right) but he does work alone even when the astrophage project opened up to more people, the feeling I get is that he still does most of his work alone unless asked to teach others, or forced to come along by Strat.

Grace quickly becomes acclimated to Rocky’s way of doing things, in an odd way, Grace is more comfortable being Eriden, than he is being human. And I really think that this is the crux of their relationship.

I read somewhere recently that family isn’t necessarily blood, but who you would bleed for.

I feel that Rocky and Grace would sacrifice themselves for their respective home worlds, but they will bleed for each other. Grace must go to a different star system to find family, which is actually really cool to me, because the story manages to have Grace have a story of growth and even a quiet redemption arc all with the background noise of a potential double Armageddon, and we manage not to lose sight of any of these elements. Add to this that the book will make you laugh, cry and think all at once. I love the Martian, but I honestly think this one is better!

[lonesilverw0lf]

Amazing and hilarious huh? Well your praise is much appreciated and I do try my best! Hopefully I will continue to do so as well!

Shadow of the Heroes! That is so….WRONG! This is a modern anime, you can’t have a short and punchy title! What is this the 90s or 00s where we have things named like Dragon Ball, Sailor Moon, Pokémon, Bleach, Naruto, One Piece, and what have you?! This story needs an ultra long and convoluted title that wraps around the whole cover of the manga and nobody is going to bother reading! Something like… I Was Almost Executed For Daring To Be Near My Summoned Classmates Who Are Heroes, But I’m Not A Twelve Year Old Edgelord With A Chip On His Shoulder Who Would Go On Some Inane Revenge Plot Using Unimersive Computer Stat Screens So Since I’m Not An Asshole I Shadow Them So We Can bantibrbskavhfjagtbkdhwbkfh! Seriously though, what is it with these ridiculously long anime titles?

I’m not against the Party having an affect on this world’s technology, but I wouldn’t have them do something like putting a whole village through the Industrial Revolution. Such an event would require a whole heap of time, work, technology, resources, connections, and such, which one village wouldn’t have and is highly doubtful the Party could spare. Not to mention the groundwork necessary before such an event could happen. This also runs into a little pet peeve of mine that some people are arrogant enough consider anyone in ancient or even older times to be complete morons. We have had geniuses all throughout history, just look at the architecture of the various empires and cultures! Ancient Egypt made all those monuments with nothing but a hammer and chisel! They knew that things worked, even if they couldn’t explain the hows and whys like we can. The Greeks had a working prototype steam engine, they just didn’t have the resources to make the iron necessary to make it fully work. We still can’t figure out Greek Fire and I think we just recently rediscovered how to make Roman Concrete which is still leagues better than modern concrete. And then there’s the experiments with Bald’s Leech Books that’re proving effective, the Aztecs had a whole empire without a single wheel, they had the Antikythera Mechanism that mapped the stars with insane accuracy, the 12 Angled Stone of Peru, Roman aqueducts, Damascus Steel, that Chinese earthquake detector, and so on.

Sure with magic that can cut a few corners, but that also begs some further questions. How widespread is magic? Is it like Harry Potter where it’s everywhere, bending like AtlA where it’s known and could be used with proper training, only for a select group like in Skyrim/Witcher who are then shunned, or is it a closely guarded secret bloodline capability like in the Mistborn trilogy? Each group has its own cultural impacts and would affect how the Party advance things. Hell, such varied views can be in each different kingdom! Then we have to question the particular rules of magic: hard or soft magic systems, the effects on the environment and human body, materials required, and so on. There’s also the issue with power and control. Those with better technology, resources, weapons, etc. can and will boss those around who have less power or who just can’t defend themselves(every tyrant makes sure to have their population unarmed for example). Depending how prevalent magic is in this world, there will be certain groups that wish to restrict magic and technological advancements to themselves so as to better control the lesser folks. I mean, it’s not like it’s too different from the real world but I digress. Those in power wouldn’t likely be ok with a buncha random kids just boosting the power in the boondocks if they can’t control them. That could cause a cascading effect that might throw off the whole power dynamic if they let it.

There’s also the problem with the actual manufacturing and distribution of said goods. You can know how an incandescent lightbulb works, what it’s made of and such, but that doesn’t mean that you can create one yourself. Edison failed over a thousand times before he figured it out. If you make a whole mill to make textiles, you’d better have a good supply of raw materials to make such an investment worth it. Depending on the village, they might have to import the wool and cotton, which means the suppliers will have to have the necessary advancements to keep up with the demand. And even if you can manufacture certain product, that doesn’t mean much if nobody else but this one village has the infrastructure to use them. Think of how EVs can be used in big cities but in the deeper countryside they’re basically worthless. A high quo toilet is worthless in a house without a decent plumbing system already installed.

Sorry if that seems like I was looking too deeply into it or sound ranty, but I had to get that off my chest. Seeing some anime go from Dark Ages to near modern day in a like a week with zero reason or buildup while skipping a buncha steps kinda irks me. I’m trying to create my own worlds and I know these are things to think about. Learning about history shows just how interconnected such events are and is simply fascinating. There has to be a foundation before such large jumps can occur. So if anything the Party wouldn’t necessarily put them through an Industrial Revolution, but at least with having a decent foundation or similar in progress could help out in filling in some gaps, pointing out some possibilities to be had, expediting certain aspects, fixing certain flaws, perhaps even helping to rediscover older technologies or magic systems. Human ingenuity and drive will push them the rest of the way. Help shrink the power gaps that exist. Perhaps at least set the jumpstart an Agricultural Revolution, which was a thing I didn’t know existed until I started looking for videos about the Industrial Revolution, so the Industrial one has a strong foundation. You need a surplus of food before things like industry can thrive. Depending on how advanced the world is, they could force certain developments by accident to open the door for others. In turn the Party can also learn/be reminded that people aren’t stupid(well generally at least), they just have a different perspective and experience than you do while the Party is used to having the collective knowledge of humanity at their fingertips, and that traditions and beliefs have a greater meaning and purpose than you realize.

The Party needs a Guide, and an adult figure, other than those that the Summoning Royals insist that go with the Party to keep an eye on them and report back. They may be the protagonists of this story and the summoned heroes ‘meant to save the world’ as so claimed, but they’re still teenagers and have a lot of growing up to do. So how about one that casually inserts himself into the Party and rejects their rejection of his presence. He gets around, seeing as how he just so happens to know quite a few people in just about every big town they visit. That one wench in that tavern, that drunk on the street, that one fisherman, that particular shepherd, and on. He’s not very well liked at first, they are fresh in a new world and their first interaction with this world nearly got MC murked, but he makes himself near invaluable due to his knowledge and connections that aren’t that the Party just can’t get. He knows the local rules and history that aren’t written down since they’re just common sense around these parts. The map might say there is a bridge in the area, but he knows the better paths to get there. He can point out when a particular quest is most likely a trap because things aren’t squaring up. The locals are 50/50 on whether they like the Party or not, for various reasons, so Guide would be a huge help there as well.

For as much Guide likes his drinking, smoking, gambling, and such, he also helps tremendously with guiding the Party into being better people. Having someone there to actually teach is an irreplaceable thing to have. And they don’t even realize how much he’s teaching them! He helps Prez learn how to be a better leader(Optimus Prime origin), shows Tomboy how to better handle her emotions, teaches Bully how to be a better person, actually mentors MC how to fight and a few other tricks to help him in his Shadow business since nobody official will or even can, teaches Mama and Clown how to hold back their helpfulness slightly to force their classmates to embrace hardship and the suck to grow as individuals, and so on. He identifies and empathizes with each one. He takes time to individually teach the Party and cater to what they need instead of shuffling them through a system like how schools are wont. He takes time to sit with MC and just let him be. Guide understands depression and anxiety, so steadily helps him overcome it alongside the Party. Guide attacks the core of the problem instead of focusing on the effects of it which is far too easy to do. The class may very well like him and want the best for him, but it MC isn’t ready for that then no amount of affirmations will do anything. It’s like that saying that no matter how much support you give someone, they have to take the steps to recovery/improvement.

Guide backstory! I don’t know whether to equate him to Uncle Iroh, Gandalf, or whoever but you get my jist. Guide takes a backseat after the Party get their feet under them and allows them to actually do the things they do because they need to, but he’s like MC in the background shuffling things around to help them on their quest. If anyone has read ID: Greatest Fusion Fantasy, and I will shamelessly plug this one, then I was thinking Krevitz at the start. I will be forever sad that said story will never be finished. It was so darn good too! But anyway, Krevitz isn’t a mentor figure in this but still a cool character with an interesting twist. Krevitz was introduced early and returned later revealing himself to have certain connections and an absolute beast in his own right. (I wanna geek out about this but I can’t because spoilers!) So for Guide perhaps he has similar connections to a rival kingdom of the Summoners Kingdom. He originally was just going to spy on them because valid, but then see that these ‘Summoned Heroes’ are just a buncha kids?! What?! So of course he decided to help them become better people in a bid to gain their trust and just help them because the Summoners surely aren’t going to considering they tried to axe MC from the jump. He’s a veteran from the previous big war so it’s easily accepted that he doesn’t like to give too many details of his past and how he has a wide spread of knowledge and deep wisdom.

The Rival Kingdom is situated to the North or West of the Summoners, and the Summoners make sure to tell the Party everything bad about the Rivals to prevent them from going there. While the bad things aren’t necessarily incorrect per se, they obviously aren’t the whole story. It’s not like the Summoners don’t have more than their fair share of skeletons in their own closet either. Thankfully the Party is smart enough to not fall for such an obvious ploy, but still remain guarded for good measure. The main thing that separates the Summoner from the Rival kingdoms is that the Rivals have a long standing tradition and law to NOT use summoned heroes from other worlds. They are firmly of the belief that this world’s problems should be resolved by this world’s inhabitants. If an Otherworlder happens to fall through the cracks of reality and land here that’s one thing, but to summon a host to do your dirty work is something else. Sure that can leave them on the back foot on occasion, but then that just means they have to compensate and reinforce in other areas. Once Rival learns of the Party, their first hope is to send them home. Not only to short the Summoners a powerful task force, but also because ripping people away from their homes for your own gain is just wrong. Of course sending them home immediately isn’t such an easy task, since Rival will need to find the exact formula that brought them so they can safely send them back.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

[samedmunds]

My litany thoughts on 1999 cult classic strategy video game Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri

Alpha Centauri is a game of the early Civilization variety from the EA golden age and ranks very highly in my top ten. While you probably heard of it if you were playing video games around the turn of the century, I've found members of my age cohort to be tragically unfamiliar with this masterpiece.

Alpha Centauri is an unofficial sequel to Civilization II, a game where the only way to way to win is either completely eliminate all competitors to the last city or, rather more easily, send a spaceship loaded with colonists to the title star system. Shortly after leaving home, the ship loses contact with Earth, which would make sense to a player of Civilization II where the bonuses to science and trade from democracies evaporate when technology ends, upon which point all the AIs revolt and become militant fundamentalist theocracies and climate change rapidly destroys the planet, leaving the player with an endgame that is literally 1984. Either way, when the already strained ship arrives at the Alpha Centauri system an unknown partisan assassinates the captain of the UNS Unity and the population fractures into seven opposing factions before firing the colony pods and exploring an inconveniently hostile planet.

The player starts here, in typical Civ fashion: a scout, settler, and absolutely no technology to speak of. That isn't to say you are a bunch of primitives, all your units start out with some approximation to modern guns and judging by the amazing quotes and wonder videos your society is well beyond the 21st century--more on the story later. The gameplay is incredibly well-balanced in spite of its age and quirks (with the exception of the freight-train progression of Yang). Rapid early expansion as the bountiful Peacekeepers may leave you at serious risk to the relentlessly martial Spartans, who are in turn threatened by the uber-specialized technocratic University--but be careful to underestimate the backwards Lord's Believers, their probe teams will just as quickly rob you of your gains. The Morganites can afford to sparsely defend their home if they're willing to pay off their aggressors, but they'll struggle expand over great swaths of territory without irking civil unrest drone riots from corruption. Meanwhile the Gaian Acolytes can harness the permanently-dangerous mindworms to great effect from the beginning of the game. Yang just... builds. And keeps building, and next thing you know he's conquered the Peacekeepers and turned Miriam into nothing more than a puppet and where are all these cruise missiles are coming from?

In short, the strategic design of this game is nothing less than a work of art, but that isn't to say it doesn't have its anachronisms. The User Interface has taken its inspiration from early versions of Microsoft Word and it rapidly pays off to know the hotkeys. The wonder videos are resolution locked and can sometimes cause problems depending on your display configuration. The unit creation system is simultaneously wonderful and horrendous. It allows me to create special long-range nerve gas bombers that eradicate cities shortly before orbitally-dropping specially-trained garrisons to quash all resistance. On the other hand, if you do not accept the cumbersome slew of computer-generated options, keeping your new weapons systems up to date with your latest technology (especially when playing as Zakharov) rapidly becomes a chore.

That said, there are a variety of features in the game that I think deserve to make a reappearance in the Civ Games. The pick-your-government system is incredibly balanced and fun to roleplay. You can't get away with crimes against humanity when solar storms hit in Civilization VI, nor can you weaponise climate change to flood your rivals cities, or strategically terraform to alter weather patterns and deny your neighbors arable land. At the bare minimum, we should be given the option to nerve staple rebelling cities when our control runs out!

All that said, there is also the story to contend with. One is at first tempted to think that a 4x strategy game with a marked emphasis on replayability would necessarily have a tacked-on story, if one at all. After all, the point is for the player to create it through their actions, not have it spoonfed to them. The majority of what you learn about your world that isn't printed in numbers and small pictures on the mapscreen is through blurbs that accompany each discovered technology or new building. The aforementioned wonders even have their adorable early-CG renderings, sometimes mixed in with some experimental film footage. There are occasional interludes that describe the mindworms and machinations of Planet, but the bulk of the wordage comes from epigrams of the faction leaders and the occasional bit of Nietzsche or Plato. It's so good that I can't help but stop and listen to CEO Nbwadibuke Morgan ramble on about supply chain economics or Sister Miriam's apocalyptic warnings every single time. Take some examples.

Proper care and education for our children remains a cornerstone of our entire colonization effort. Children not only shape our future; they determine in many ways our present. Men and women work harder knowing their children are safe and close at hand, and never forget that, with children present, parents will defend their home to the death!

--Col. Corazon Santiago, "Planet: A Survivalist's Guide"

Or perhaps, a more on the nose one:

"The Academician's private residences shall remain off-limits to the Genetic Inspectors. We possess no retroviral capability, we are not researching retroviral engineering, and we shall not allow this Council to violate faction privileges in the name of this ridiculous witch hunt!

--Fedor Petrov, Vice Provost for University Affairs Accompanies the Retroviral Engineering technology

The game often doesn't directly tell you what Retroviral engineering is, nor does it labor to explain just what having someone nerve stapled means, or the precise function of the Recycling Tanks, but through its quotation it beautifully circumlocutes the world you are shaping--and being shaped by. It really never pulls any of its punches, even if its just on Organic Superlube--great stuff--and I still catch muself quoting it regularly.

Ursula LeGuin once wrote

"Science fiction is often described, and even defined, as extrapolative. The science fiction writer is supposed to take a trend or phenomenon of the here-and-now, purify and intensify it for dramatic effect, and extend it into the future. 'If this goes on, this is what will happen.' [...] This may explain why many people who read science fiction describe it as 'escapist,' but when questioned further, admit they do not read it because 'it's so depressing.'"

Alpha Centauri is absolutely extrapolative fiction and very firmly rooted in the 1990s and I love it. It was released in the Aaron Sorkin TV, pre-9/11 days where the word Internet was more often than not followed by the words, "is like an information superhighway" and it absolutely no efforts are made to cover it up. The main factions are a cross-section of the New Millenium's hopes and anxieties. A New Russia that went a very different path before Putin took over, a cheerful clan of ruthless Western capitalists hellbent on putting Morganvision on every network set, a group of vaguely Scottish free-love peaceniks hellbent on defending the most-of-the-time incredibly hostile environment. There's the Second-Amendment preaching Spartans or the optimistically-influential UN which, judging by its naming scheme for its bases, seems to dedicate entire cities to bureaucratic agencies. The All-American Christian fundamentalists don't entirely butt heads with the frighteningly powerful Human-Hive (if your country calls their cities names like "Huddling of the People" and "Paradise Swarming" you might not be the good guys). The expansion also brings in more dynamic characters like the Information Wants to be Free! data angels Brian Reynolds very clearly came up with after watching Swordfish and Hackers back to back or the Nautilus Pirates who have no right to be as fun as they are.

The visions of the future are at once both anachronistic and prophetic; while elements may come off as cheese, I see it as a sort of window to the past, a way to examine what was once (and sometimes still is) on our mind. All in all, I give Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri 4 out of 5 stars and a definite all-time favorite, warts and all. You can pick it and its expansion up for $6 on Gog.com and play it through a built-in emulator that works for most systems. If you're willing to brave a dated interface and an older-fashioned gameplay style, I would definitely recommend it.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here. 

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms. 

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES. 

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious  problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.  

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[andmaybegayer]

What is bus mode Ethernet?

Where did you even find that post buddy. That was so long ago *aide whispers in my ear* what do you mean only one month! December was four years ago!

So this is specifically talking about how wired networks are laid out. Nowadays, when you lay out a network for, say, a datacenter or an office, you lay it out in a star topology, using switches. That looks like this:

A switch is a smart appliance, which means it has an awareness of the network and can make decisions. If computer A decides it wants to talk to computer C, it sends a message down its link tagged with the address of C. The switch sees this packet and goes “ah-ha, I know where C is!” and sends the message down the right line. Notably here, B and D never even know this transaction took place. This is sometimes called point-to-point networking, because messages are only sent to the places they are needed.

Switches are popular nowadays, but there’s a problem: They’re computers. Because a switch is making decisions, potentially very fast decisions, it requires a fast processor. In the 90′s and earlier, such a device could cost an extraordinary amount of money: USD 100 per port was considered an absolute steal in 1997, and the further you go back, the worse it gets. A small office with a dozen computers probably doesn’t want to fork over USD 5000 just to network share sub-megabyte files and get emails.

The solution to this is Bus Networking.

It’s called Bus Networking because all traffic shares the same connections and thus share bandwidth. Y’know, like public transport.

This is a simple Ethernet Bus network. In this situation, if computer A wants to talk to computer C, it still emits a packet tagged with the address for C, but now there’s a difference: B and D can also see this packet coming through, and if they want they could ignore the addressing and read what it contains.

(note: those things on the end of the line represent signal terminators. On a long wire like this a message could bounce back from unterminated ends, interfering with traffic)

That’s not the biggest issue with bus networks though: the real issue is collisions!

If A tries to talk to C, but at the same time B tries to talk to D, two signals cannot travel on a wire at once. They mix up, and no one gets their message across. A collision has occured.

Fortunately for us, some Hawaiian researchers solved this problem in the 70′s when they were setting up radio communications between the Hawaiian Islands, a system called ALOHAnet. Radio has this problem as well: if everyone is broadcasting on one frequency, two people broadcasting can get muddled and now no-one gets to hear what was said. How can you efficiently send messages without collisions when you have no way to coordinate between members? Remember, trying to send a message to say “okay, you go first, then I’ll go” has as much chance of colliding as anything else!

We solve this with the ALOHA protocol, which is loosely as follows:

Pretend you are a computer. If you are already a computer, skip this step.

Send your message.

Listen for any messages from anyone else.

If you hear a message from someone else, then you know there’s been a collision. You can trust that they also heard your message.

Roll a small random number, let’s say between 1 and 6. Wait that much time. Everyone else on the network who wants to transmit does the same.

If you hear a message come through before you can send yours, wait for them to finish before you send.

Try and send when your timer expires and you have an opening

Listen for any messages from anyone else.

If you hear a message from someone else, there’s been another collision. Increase the size of your random number (try doubling the upper bound), roll again, and go back to step 4.

If you successfully transmit, you’re done!

This largely solves the problem. You have a way for all these devices sharing nothing more than a wire to communicate with each other. Make one of those devices a router with access to the network and  you’re surfing the information superhighway!

On a not-too-busy network with a handful of users, this works surprisingly well, but it has a problem: as you get more and more active users on one network, the amount of time it takes for everyone to randomly roll the right numbers to transmit gets higher and higher, until the whole network bogs down. There are slight improvements to ALOHA that improve throughput, but you start to run up against mathematical limits pretty fast. With the addition of dedicated transmission slots rather than haphazardly counting down without a care in the world, ALOHA can reach about 35% utilization of a link.

An additional note: at this time, Ethernet didn’t run over CAT-5 like it does now. CAT-5 terminated in RJ-45 is what we usually use nowadays because we want to support 100-1000 megabit per second speeds,

Back in the Bad Old Days, ethernet generally ran over coaxial cable, sometimes called ThinNet, i.e. this shit, which you may recognize if you’ve ever used lab equipment.

Hence, you really could just tap off new lines from this pretty easily, you just had to join two wires and you were off to the races. This  was actually preceded by a bigger serial interface, affectionately referred to as ThickNet. Both could run at about 10Mbps maximum, which, once you throw in that 35% utilization? You can see why we needed to move past this. 3.5Mbps was slow for a local network even in the 80′s.

Nowdays, you can buy a brand new switch for a pretty reasonable price, or a used switch for a downright bargain, running at speeds that would have blown the socks off a Cray engineer a couple decades ago. Bus-mode ethernet basically only exists in weird industrial and sensor applications where switches are impractical or unnecessary, plus we have Wi-Fi now. Wi-Fi doesn’t have to deal with the same problems as ALOHA, because it allocates little chunks of frequency and time to every device on the network, keeping most transmissions separate one way or another with careful negotiation.

Bus mode ethernet still works, even with modern networking! If you decided to splice a bunch of modern PC’s together with junction boxes and allocated addresses to them all, they would step in line and roll back to this antique networking technique because it’s all part of the standard.

I’m gonna call it here but I do have another post in me about the way bus networks were actually set up and the weird as hell switches you might have found in a burgeoning 80′s tech company. Let me know if that sounds like anything.

[mbrokenheart93]

First Dance Since 1943

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by (song): I still don’t remember it, actually 😬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Fem!StarkScientist Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dancing at Work. Insecurities. Jokes. Memories.

Author's Note: Hello!!! I hope you're ok today ❤️.

First of all, thanks you for all the replies on my last Fics! Really that is very appreciated 😍

This fic was the first that I ve write with Bucky when the series came out, so... This was the first steps of my new (lost) love about Bucky (And Sebastian too)

I hope you like this one!!!

XOXO ❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

- Leslie - He raised his head as soon as he heard Joaquín's voice and gave him a smile when he saw him poke his head through the door of my office, even though it is transparent - I bring Sam with me so you can take a look at Redwing.

- It will be my pleasure - I mutter as I type a quick reply to Agent Johnson about the malfunction of Agent Sousa's new pistol. Men who come from bygone ages have serious problems with modern technology - How can I help you?

He looked up from the laptop and my eyes meet that sad look that my dreams seemed to reflect conscientiously. The owner of those blue eyes and painful memories sees me with a hint of a smile while his partner holds Redwing as if I were going to touch him just to detonate him.

- I want it to be clear that I let you intervene with him only because Torres made it clear to me that you worked for Stark.

I give a laugh that reflects my nervousness as I turn to Bucky.

- Sergeant Barnes.

- Hey. How have you been, Leslie? - The way my name sounds in his voice, which is seductive without even looking for it makes him feel that my legs melt like jelly at those words.

- Busy with so much work - I reach out to Sam making a mental note of how good that blue shirt looks on Bucky and coming to the conclusion that men who come from 1940 like the color blue - What is it? What it's the problem?

- The laser was decalibrated. I wanted to repair it but it was impossible.

- If you let me examine it, at most I will have it ready in a couple of hours - The soldier nods somewhat suspiciously but takes a step back as soon as I take that small device. - The dream of any woman, to fix one of the many work items of the Avengers.

Sam laughs as he begins to explain that he is no longer part of the Avengers as many believe. To all this, Bucky, as I allow myself to call him in my thoughts, is in silence, leaning against one of the many glass walls of the room, looking out of the building and I do not doubt for a second when I believe that he was not paying attention in the least to our conversation.

Joaquín's voice interrupts my thoughts and from the smile he brings, I know that every time he meets these two men, he considers himself one of the luckiest beings in the universe.

- Excuse me, Sam - The two men turn around as I turn the little drone and see the typical signs that this prototype of Stark technology is very poorly maintained. I make a mental note not to say that to Sam and concentrate on fixing the laser as I hear them being called from "Higher Spheres" as I call high-ranking Air Force people - They need you, there's a new report on the mission in Libya.

- Take good care of him, Leslie - I nodded smiling without looking up and muttered a "Better than you, sure" that was only audible to me.

If there was one thing he hated about Stark technologies, it was that, in addition to having the F.R.I.D.A.Y tech matrix, and without it, he couldn't do much more than touch some cables and hope the little drone would work. And i prayed that would work, otherwise i would have to ask Pepper for permission to use her facilities, but Sam would flatly refuse to take Redwing to Stark Industries.

- He screwed it up, didn't he?

I jerked my head up when I heard Bucky's voice and when I looked at him, he was still in the same position as before, looking outside the building.

- I thought you had left with Sam ...

- Excuse me, I did not want to scare you - He approached the table where i was working and indicated the drone with his metal arm, which he no longer hid under layers of clothing, much less, leather gloves - He treats that drone very badly .

- Sorry?

- Do you think that murmur was imperceptible only for you? I assure you that Sam heard it too- I cursed as he dropped the tools i had in my hands and covered my face with both, wishing that the earth would open and swallow me, as a minimum option.

- Why didn't you go with Sam? and please do not get me wrong, I like the company and I like that you are here, but it is simple curiosity - I cursed myself internally as I listened over and over again to the words that I had said aloud and I wanted the earth to pity me again and swallow me. Definitely Joaquín's idea of ​​just nodding and not talking was an excellent idea to implement.

Had I told him out loud that I liked him being there? Oh my God…

- This is Sam's land, I don't fit in here.

- And yet, here you are - I take Redwing and walk to the testing room of the laboratory that is adjacent to my office, where the music begins to play as soon as I enter the small room and as much as I want to deactivate it, I can not do it. I resign myself as soon as I hear Bucky's footsteps behind me and as soon as he enters the room, it seems too small with him there. I put the drone on the long metal table that occupies a large part of it and I type the password in the auxiliary panel of one of the screens around me and the little drone turns on, taking flight a few meters above our heads - At least It leaves me happy that I still fly with all those blows.

- I'm surprised that it's still whole - Bucky's murmur makes me laugh as I calibrate the laser to shoot the target in front of him. I try to shoot but nothing happens. I curse silently as I see from the corner of my eye that the man cautiously observes the room, as he stops when the first melodies of “She's got a Way” by Billy Joel begin to play- Do you like the music of the 20th century?

- I'll tell you the truth: I don't like current music, I prefer the lyrics of 1980s artists where they say heartfelt things rather than the lyrics that speak about certain topics in a very direct way. 1980 was a very good time, maybe you would like it.

- I have a list of songs on Spotify that I listened to in the 40's. I thought I couldn't find them again - The hint of melancholy that invades his voice makes for a moment that I wanted to meet that 23-year-old young man who should be very different from the one in front of me, with a totally different way of being and without all the suffering that would happen later - What if, that was when I learned to use a computer.

- You know, you would get along with Agent Sousa from SWORD - He turned at the mention of the new agency with a frown, clearly annoyed at the idea of ​​interacting with another agency. - He's just like you, technically speaking.

- He went through psychological torture and became a Hydra assassin? -The sincerity and ease with which those words came out of his mouth made my eyes fill with tears. The pain in his voice made my words sound clearly wrong in that conversation.

- No ... He also comes from an ancient time, like you and Steve. Only Daniel was taken out of 1955 because of Agent Coulson and his feeling of not being able to let him die in front of his eyes - Bucky nodded as he stood next to me again and watched my movements on the screen trying to get Redwing to respond, something that did not happen - Perhaps it would do them good to chat between the two ... You are not from the same era, but I imagine that their feelings towards this century are similar, and both are adapting. You can get to understand each other more than they think.

- I will keep it in mind…. Thank you, Doll - I felt the heat begin to rise up my neck at that nickname and I assumed that my cheeks must be a scarlet red color, because, despite the fact that it was cold in that room, I felt that I was on fire - I all this is strange, even though I know this technology, it is difficult for me not to relate it to all this - Unconsciously, he touches his metal arm and I let out a sigh. I'd like to know how to help him get through that, but I don't know how to do it without bringing up bad memories.

- Is there something you like?

- What are you talking about? - I put aside the PADD I had in my hands and touched the "Stand By" button for Redwing to return to his original position in the center of the table.

- Sometimes, learning becomes easier when there is something you like - I lean on the table while he remains silent and I watch him waiting for his answer, but all I get is a smile about something he is thinking - What makes you smile?

- Dance. I haven't danced in a long time. Since 1943, to be exact - He leans on the other end of the table, facing me exactly and gives me a look with a flash of mischief - And I'm not going to those places that they call discos to dance with someone.

I laughed at his tone of indignation, when I could contain my laughter, I saw him watching me with what seemed like affection, but I tried not to give it too much importance, but when I felt that my heart was going to leave my chest so hard it hit my rib cage.

- Why that tone against the discos?

- The music is too loud and there are colored lights that I don't even know what they are called, plus you can't talk to anyone - I laughed again at his complaints that were very sincere and were very similar to mine - Don't make fun of me.

- I do not, I am funny the tone you use. You seem really annoyed with it - Bucky rolls his eyes and taps on the table - What do you miss most about 1940?

- Everything, my family, my friends, my life ... The way I could go to an amusement park and not have to worry about whoever saw me wanted to run out of fear, when I could take a girl on a date without I would worry about my past, dancing with someone, that closeness that made me so comfortable and so relaxing at the same time.

- Well, at least the dance thing can be fixed - I take my iPhone out of my pocket and search the playlist for Eric Clapton's song, Wonderful Tonight and once the notes start to play, I walk over to Bucky, holding out my hand towards him, in an attack of courage, the kind that I don't usually have, but all that was to get a smile from the owner of those beautiful sad eyes - Would you dance this song with me?

Although I notice that my actions catch him off guard, he smiles at me and takes my hand, nodding his head.

When the two of us are standing in front of each other, I realize that I don't know where to put my hands, much less stop to think if that could be uncomfortable for him. I wanted to back away, looking for a good enough excuse before falling into the misfortune of having to apologize to him, but Bucky, who will have simply seen my worried expression, took my free hand and brought it to his forearm, and laid it there gently, While with his right hand he held mine, and with his metal arm, he encircled my waist, drawing me close to him. We began to move slowly to the beat of the music, but he was definitely the one leading the way.

- How does it feel to dance decently again? - I was silent at the inappropriate comment and let out a sigh while I concentrated on trying not to step on it.

- It feels strange to do it after a long time - Bucky ignores my comment or downplays it, but when I look at him, I realize that he is concentrating on remembering the steps and trying to guide the inexperienced woman in front of him.

- To do it a long time ago, you do it very well - He shakes his head, trying not to smile, and before I even knew it, he released one of my hands and made me turn, taking my hand perfectly synchronized at the end of it.

- If Steve were here, I'd say it's innate ability.

- Well, if he makes you feel more comfortable, this is my first time dancing with someone, that is, I dance with a man. And I must admit that I never believed it would be in my workplace.

- Why's that? - I let out a sigh as I watch him at the same time that he looks towards the laboratory door. When he looks back at me, in his blue eyes I can see a flicker of doubt and curiosity.

Anyone could feel safe with my poor social and love life.

- It's weird to dance in your workplace. Everyone here is watching you from the other side of the glass and ...

- I meant because you never danced with anyone - Oh ... I drop my head until it almost touches his chest, but I feel that the pressure of his arm grows stronger around my waist, as if he knows that I am about to fall and I won't notice - I'm sorry if the question bothers you.

- No, no, he doesn't. What happens is that I'm not usually the type of girl who gets asked to dance. Besides, I don't like going to the disco or going out at night. In that respect I am similar to you - I admit while he gives me a smirk - I prefer to stay home and read. Or spend time with my cat.

- Intellectuals are the best - Bucky's voice sounds annoying and safe at the same time, as if something in his own words bothered him.

- But the less interesting for the men of this time apparently, more when they talk a lot about science and current affairs - Between the chords of the music, I get him to laugh. And I must admit, he has a beautiful smile, one of the prettiest I have ever seen, in fact. I start to laugh and in the midst of my laughter, he spins me around again at the same time the song ends.

- Not for me. Are you sure you didn't come out of the 40's like me? - We don't even part, and our hands are still joined as I shake my head.

I smile as I take a step away from him as I pick up my cell phone to stop the music and see him approach the window again.

- No, but I think I was born at the wrong time.

- Thanks for this - his murmur reaches me far away, but with a clear hint of satisfaction in his voice. I smile happy to have served my purpose.

- Thanks to you, at least I have experienced what it feels like to dance with someone.

- You will do it more often, trust me.

- I take the word.

Sam who had arrived at the scene a few minutes before with Torres, smiled as he watched the whole scene and remembered those days when he took advantage of Steve's innocence with women and smiled wistfully when he realized that Bucky was the clear image of his best friend. Seeing him for a moment concentrating on something other than work filled him with satisfaction, perhaps Joaquín's idea of ​​bringing him here hadn't been so bad after all.

Then he would take advantage of letting him know of his observations when the two of them were alone.

I turn towards the door as soon as I hear a series of light knocks and I meet Sam's mischievous smile, who sees me as if he had discovered gold or something much more valuable.

- I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have work, Buck.

- Sure - Bucky turns to where I am and before he could even move me away, he takes one of my hands and leaves a kiss on it. I can barely contain the sigh that tries to escape from my lips and I simply remain silent, feeling how the color begins to invade my cheeks, in the company of the heat - Thanks for the dance.

- My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.

Sam, who is behind us, rolls his eyes and leans against the door while Bucky approaches him with a heavy sigh - Don't even think about making jokes about this.

- Did I say something? - I let out a laugh at his comical and ironic tone as Bucky walks past him shaking his head. "See you later, Leslie." I need to make some arrangements on the suit.

- Yes Sir.

Sam glares at me as Torres chuckles at my horrified expression. I forgot he don't like me calling him sir.

- Sorry, Sam.

After a few minutes, I find myself alone again, so I return to the laboratory to work on Redwing and allow myself to release that sigh that I have been holding since Bucky appeared in that room.

That moment had been incredible ... Even if it was only that, a moment that will remain in my head.

I startle as soon as I hear a knock on the door, I take off the receiver and as soon as I turn around, I see that the one at the door is Bucky, who has his left hand hidden behind his back.

- You know, "Sergeant" is very formal - he leaves his left hand exposed and has a white flower on it. I doubt if I approach but I do it feeling that the colors begin to invade my face. No one had never given me flowers. That gesture was beautiful, I take it and I respond with a smile - Call me James.