#launch is pretty important after all

[anime-scarves]

A new set of TFT is out and that means it's time to stream! Come stop on by and watch for a bit.

[kn11ves]

my comic is live right now!

kyle and rex is an absurdist drama set in a stagnant afterlife where everyone lies, cheats, manipulates, and hurts each other in order to gain political power and admiration from the public.

with characters constantly haunted by ghosts of the past, trying to stay on top of the food chain despite constant betrayals and having their secrets held up above their heads, comes back kyle, from his long stay back as a guiding spirit on earth, to take back reigns of the throne in the inbetween. though much like everyone else, hes got a long list of dirty laundry that many are aching to reveal. there are no real friends here.

⸻

updates every 2 weeks, at 6:30 pm central US time! (SP & ENG)

WEBTOON: english link + spanish link

TAPAS: english link + spanish link

FANEO: spanish link

[tender-rosiey]

“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[p0orbaby]

In Vino Veritas

summary: you’re drunk, aitana is missing and whose house is this?

warnings: alcohol

a/n: this is cute, and it’s made me want to write for tana more

word count: 2.5k

-

The music pulses around the house, loud and relentless, like it has a personal vendetta against silence, and you feel it vibrating through your bones. It’s some mainstream electronic track, too cheerful for the kind of reflective mood tequila usually grants you. Everything around you is a little hazy, a bit too bright, and you’re squinting at it all, like you’re looking at the world through frosted glass.

The wallpaper here is too clean, too deliberately “vintage,” with little pink roses blooming in neat, identical rows. You imagine, briefly, peeling the wallpaper back, layer by layer, finding more roses, more decades of them, stacked on top of each other like memories no one wants to talk about. But that’s a thought for another time, another you, one not stumbling over someone’s overly expensive thrifter rug and nearly tripping on a pair of boots discarded in the hallway.

Where the hell is Aitana?

It’s around the fifth time you’ve drunkenly circled the house when you spot Sunglasses Guy, a figure that almost feels like a test placed here by some malevolent spirit—an obstacle on your journey. He’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter like he’s in a photoshoot, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Indoors, sunglasses on, even though it’s dark outside. He’s got that air of self-importance, like he’s convinced that sunglasses are mysterious, that people look at him and think, Wow, who’s that? In reality, they’re thinking, Why is this guy wearing sunglasses in the dark?

He nods at you, a slow, deliberate motion, clearly trying to make you feel “seen” in some profound way, as if this is a moment the two of you will remember forever. But all you remember is your drink, the way it sloshes precariously as you shift your weight, and the way he leans in, smelling faintly of something vaguely woody and way too expensive.

“Do you know what NFTs are?” he asks, his voice low, a little sultry, like he thinks NFTs are the new “what’s your sign?”

You stare at him, and the words that spring to mind are “sunglasses,” “pretentious,” and, inexplicably, “parsley.” You’ve no idea where “parsley” came from, but your mind clings to it like smoke on cotton. “NFTs,” you repeat, as though it’s the punchline to a joke he hasn’t told. He takes this as an invitation to launch into what sounds like a memorised TED Talk, and you wonder, briefly, if you could just interrupt him by throwing your drink on his shoes.

“Aitana!” you yell instead, desperate, cutting him off mid-monologue, which he handles with a slightly indignant flick of his eyebrow.

“Where’s my girlfriend? Have you seen her?”

The phrase my girlfriend makes you beam internally. There’s a glow that forms when you think of her, a warmth that starts in your chest and blooms outward. She is, after all, the reason you’re here. The reason you even pretend to tolerate these kinds of social gatherings, with their sunglasses indoors and their endless monologues about digital assets.

He blinks, trying to recover from the abrupt derailment. “Uh, blockchain—”

“Ugh,” you mutter, interrupting again, giving him a very distinct dismissive wave, the kind of wave that says Please stop talking or I will find a way to escape this dimension entirely.

A girl nearby spills beer on your shoes. She mumbles an apology, not that you’re in a state to care; you brush it off. Aitana is the focus, the centre. Shoes don’t matter when you’re looking for someone who does.

Then, finally—finally—you see her. She’s leaning against the far wall, her posture so casual, like she’s posed there on purpose, like she’s an ad for the kind of life you’re pretty sure only exists in those short films that play before foreign films at independent cinemas. She’s listening intently to some guy in an aggressively patterned shirt, nodding along like he’s actually saying something worthwhile, and you can’t help but marvel at the patience it takes to look interested when you’re not.

“Oh my god, she’s so beautiful.” It’s supposed to be a whisper, but it comes out loud enough that a girl nearby laughs. You’re only mildly mortified; who cares? Aitana has just noticed you across the room, and now she’s looking at you with that expression, the one that melts your insides, that says, There you are.

You start walking toward her, though “walking” might be generous. It’s more of a determined stumble, like a baby deer on its first attempt at standing. Your brain registers that you’re approaching her, but your legs aren’t quite sure if they’re fully on board. At some point, you even have to pause and grab a nearby chair for balance, flashing a sheepish grin at a couple nearby who look half-amused, half-concerned.

“Aitanaaaa,” you call, drawing her name out like you’re serenading her. She’s already moving toward you, though, weaving gracefully through the crowd like it’s easy, natural. You think, Of course she’d come to me. Of course she’d know that I need rescuing.

“Hi, cariño,” she says softly, her voice lilting with that soft Spanish accent that, even now, sends a thrill up your spine. And it’s so gentle, so warm, like she’s wrapping you up in some invisible blanket. You lean into it, the warmth, her presence, like a moth to a flame.

“You’re so pretty,” you blurt out, your words tumbling over each other in their eagerness. “Like, stupid pretty. Like, why are you even with me?” Your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, as if the two of you are sharing a secret in a room filled with strangers. “I’m a disaster. I can’t even find the toilet in this place”

She laughs, this soft, lilting sound that feels like honey, thick and golden, spreading warmth from your chest to your fingertips. Her hand settles on your shoulder, steadying you, pulling you closer, and you realise how desperately you want to bury your face in the crook of her neck and just exist there, where things are quiet, soft. She smells faintly floral, and you realise it’s that same perfume she always wears, the one you borrowed once and promptly drenched yourself in until she told you, with a smile, that subtlety might work better.

“Why am I with you?” she echoes, the question hanging there between you, laced with a smile, with that familiar mischief. “Because I love you. And because you’re funny. And because you make my life interesting”

“Interesting?” You narrow your eyes, leaning back slightly, pretending to be offended. “I thought I made your life amazing. Like, top-tier, VIP-section amazing.” You’re about to launch into a whole speech, but your brain hiccups, lost somewhere in a thought that doesn’t quite finish. You grin at her instead, and she just shakes her head, amused.

She grins, and it’s that cheeky, self-assured grin that makes you both melt and want to argue. “That too”

It’s at this moment, this little pause, that you get an idea. It’s not necessarily a good idea, but it’s there, persistent, because your tequila-fuelled brain won’t let it go. “If you were a sandwich,” you say seriously, “you’d be the kind with all the best fillings. Like, avocado and caramelised onions and, like, artisanal cheese. And I’d eat you every day and never get bored”

She laughs, that infectious, melodic sound, and you feel a swell of pride that you can make her laugh like that, even in your current state. Her eyes soften, that look of adoration flickering there, just for you, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair off your face. Her fingers are warm, soft, and your eyes flutter closed for a moment as they linger on your cheek.

“Come on, let’s get you some water,” she murmurs, her voice gentle as she takes your hand in hers, and there’s a comfort in that touch, in the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

As she guides you through the crowd, you find yourself staring at her hand in yours, marvelling at how naturally it fits, how perfect it feels, as though it’s always meant to be there. The thought makes you feel almost childlike in its simplicity, but you hold onto it.

“You’re the best, you know that?” you say as Aitana threads you through a crowd that’s moving with the sludgy, undulating rhythm of a creature with too many limbs. Faces pass by in flashes of laughing mouths and narrowed eyes, pupils blown wide by God knows what, maybe tequila, maybe… more. None of them matter, though. They’re simply the backdrop to this little tableau: you, lit up and fizzing, tethered to the only person in the world who’d think to take your hand and lead you to salvation (water) instead of just letting you unravel on the sticky floor of someone’s overpriced house.

She looks at you like you’re amusing, like she’s doing you this great favour by holding your hand in public. “I know,” she says, her mouth quirking in that way that makes your chest feel both hollow and unbearably full.

And then you stop—there’s an odd elegance to it, almost like a dance, because she half-turns, looking back at you as if she knew this was coming. Like she’s been expecting you to stop her and do something wild, something foolish. The patience in her eyes, well, it almost feels like she’s giving you permission to make an idiot of yourself. Again.

“I want to kiss you,” you announce, dead serious, as if declaring something truly revolutionary.

“We’re in the middle of a strangers house.” She says this lightly, but she’s already leaning in, her chin tilting, the light catching in her hair just so, like it’s the climax of some impossibly chic music video.

You want to tell her that kissing her here, now, with people everywhere and the taste of cheap tequila in your mouth, is the single most important thing in the world. That nothing in this moment matters, except her—your Aitana, who has somehow, against all reason and logic, decided to love you back.

So, when she presses her mouth to yours, soft, barely-there, like you’re made of fine china, you think you might just melt into the floor. The crowd around you recedes; they fade away, just shadows in the periphery, and it’s as if you and Aitana are standing in a bubble, suspended in time. You’re floating, really, an ethereal, drunk ghost of yourself. She’s kissed you like this a thousand times, but right now, it feels so outrageously perfect that you think, absurdly, that maybe you don’t deserve it. Like you’ve somehow won this cosmic lottery.

When she pulls back, you’re vaguely aware that your mouth is still open, probably looking ridiculous, but she’s smiling at you, all fondness and amusement, as if to say, “Yes, you’re a total disaster, but you’re my disaster.” It’s a little terrifying, if you think about it too long.

“See? This is why you’re the best,” you mumble, clutching her a little tighter, almost swaying in place.

She tilts her head, giving you this look that’s so completely Aitana, so fully her, it borders on cliché. “You’re a mess,” she says, but her eyes are bright, shimmering with something almost mischievous.

You shrug, proud, defiant. “I’m your mess”

“Yes,” she agrees, not even trying to hide her smile, “you are”

And with that, she’s tugging you along, moving with a fluidity that makes you wonder, briefly, if she’s choreographed this entire evening just for you. You’re half-convinced she’s orchestrated the entire universe to align with this moment—the sounds of people talking too loud, the stickiness of the floor, the faint scent of stale beer and expensive perfume all melding into a cocktail that feels uniquely yours. Aitana, your perfect Aitana, leading you through this mire like she’s guiding you through a rainforest or a canyon, somewhere treacherous and fraught with danger.

You stumble into what you desperately hope is the kitchen, but honestly, it could just as easily be a poorly-lit hallway or an oddly-configured living room. Someone has drawn a Sharpie mustache on a framed photo of a golden retriever; the countertop is littered with crumpled napkins and red Solo cups, each one bearing the lipstick marks of strangers.

“I’m gonna drink, like, four litres of water,” you declare, full of bravado, as she hands you a slightly dented plastic cup that smells faintly of gin.

“Good idea,” she replies, crossing her arms and watching you with that expression she gets sometimes, like she’s trying to contain her fondness, keep it manageable, as if loving you too much would somehow be irresponsible. Like her heart could actually explode if she indulged herself too much.

You take a sip, but you’re not really tasting the water. No, you’re watching her, the way she brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face with her pinky, the way her eyes are this exact shade of dark that you’ve spent hours trying to name in your head. Like burnt caramel, maybe, or wet soil. It’s frustratingly poetic, the way she looks at you, like she knows every ridiculous thing you’ve ever thought and loves you for it anyway.

“Aitana,” you say, fully serious, as if you’re about to impart some life-altering wisdom. “You’re my favourite person ever”

“I know,” she replies, but there’s something so gentle in her voice that you’re pretty sure she means it as much as you do. She reaches out, smoothing a stray hair behind your ear, a little gesture, the kind that’s both tender and practical, reminding you of the time she told you to cut your nails because you scratched her during a tickling fit. Practical, pragmatic Aitana, the girl who brings you plasters when you’ve tripped up the stairs and curses in Catalan when she stubs her toe but tries to blame the wall for it.

“No, but like…you don’t understand,” you say, stumbling over your words, the alcohol making you louder and sloppier than you’d like. You lean in closer, conspiratorially, like you’re about to reveal some great cosmic secret. “I’m so in love with you. It’s, like, a problem”

She laughs softly, the sound low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. She pulls you into her arms, your head pressing against her shoulder, and you breathe her in, that familiar scent that’s all her—floral and a little musky, layered with the faintest hint of some expensive perfume you’ve never bothered to learn the name of.

“It’s not a problem,” she murmurs, smoothing a hand down your back. “It’s perfect”

And it is. Perfect, that is. You’re here, tangled up in her, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic, messy cloud of tequila and love, and it’s perfect in this fragile, unsteady way. You’re her mess, her drunken mess, and there’s something so intensely beautiful about it, you think you might actually cry.

“I’m never letting you go,” you mumble, your words muffled against her shirt, which is soft and smells like laundry detergent.

“Good,” she replies, holding you a little tighter, as if she means it more than anything. “Because I’m not going anywhere”

[girlgenius1111]

might just love you 'til the end

post... that match. a bit of angst, mostly fluff. alexia is not pleased after her performance against chelsea. you aren't quite sure what she needs from you. you decide to give her space, but that isn't really what she needs. alexia tells you... eventually.

-------

It was a long day, a tiring and difficult match, and Alexia probably would have resorted to one of her coping mechanisms, if she hadn’t missed that last shot on goal. It seemed to take something out of her, and even from your place sitting on the bench, you could see how angry she was acting. Underneath that, though, you could tell that she was really just disappointed in herself. 

Watching her blink back tears as she made her way around the pitch was almost too much for you. You wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, pull her into the tunnel, and hug her until she wasn’t sad anymore. You knew better than to try to comfort her now, though. Alexia hated nothing more than seeming weak, especially in front of the team. Anything she needed or wanted from you would have to wait until you both got home. And even then, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sometimes she’d just shut down after a bad game, go to sleep, and wake up with a new passion the next morning. Sometimes she’d shut down, but her fury at herself would linger for days. Very rarely did she talk about it. Only when she really reached her breaking point, which was admittedly a lot harder to reach than other people’s were, would she let you make her feel better.  

It wasn’t necessarily a healthy array of options that she normally went with, but you couldn’t argue that it didn’t work. It worked for Alexia, and that was what was important. Even if giving her space until she asked for something else hurt, you knew it was what she needed. 

She acted pretty much how you expected her to as you both made your way into the locker room and headed for the showers. The blonde gave you nothing more than a high five and a weak smile, before she launched herself into her post match routine. You did the same, icing various parts of your body that hurt after a rather physical game. You kept your eyes on your girlfriend, though, watching the hollow way she brushed through her hair and the mechanical way she laced up her shoes. You were done before her, sitting in your locker looking at your phone, trying to figure out how bad the social media situation was going to be for her, when her white nikes appeared in front of you. You looked up at her with a smile, though it fell slightly when you took in the completely emotionless look on her face. She’d shut down, then, like you’d expected her to. You knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it easier that she wouldn’t let you help.

“¿Lista?” She asked roughly, not meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You replied, getting to your feet, grabbing your bag, and giving Mapi a reassuring look from where she sat waiting for Ingrid to be ready to go. You knew your girlfriend’s best friend worried about her, and that she had tried to talk to her after the match, but it hadn’t really gone anywhere. You were surprised when, as soon as you were out of the locker room and had walked a ways down the hall, Alexia dropped her bag to the ground and pulled you into a tight hug. 

You returned the hug, sighing into her shoulder, feeling her bury her face in your slightly damp hair. The hug was for you, you could tell. To make you feel better, even when Alexia wouldn’t allow you to do anything to make her feel better. She held herself a bit tensely, and when she pulled away, her eyes searched yours, her worry clear on her face. 

“Te amo,” she whispered, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “I am proud of you, always.” 

“I love you, Ale,” you replied, a thousand more words on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to tell her you were proud of her, too, that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t need to deal with today all by herself, but you knew she wouldn’t accept it right now. Instead, you grabbed her hand in yours and squeezed tightly. 

The captain kept her hand in yours as you both walked to her car, and though you expected her to pull away from the contact, you were glad that she was letting herself have something to make herself feel better. The car ride home was silent, and you predicted the rest of the night to be the same.

------

You knew to let Alexia deal with it how she dealt with it, but you did put your foot down on a couple things. When she headed right for the couch, going to put the match replay on the TV and take notes, you shook your head, taking the remote out of her hand. 

“Not tonight. It won’t make you feel better.” 

“I have to watch,” she argued, but you cut her off. 

“You can watch tomorrow. Tonight we are going to watch a movie, order dinner, and go to bed early.” 

“Amor,” Alexia sighed, her brow furrowed, no doubt thinking about how she could convince you to let her do this. 

You switched tactics, knowing there was one sure way to get your girlfriend to agree with you. “Please? For me? I don’t want to watch that again right now.” 

The blonde softened, nodding her head at you. Satisfied, you flopped down on the couch next to her, grabbing her arm and draping it over your shoulder. 

Alexia smiled despite herself, leaving a soft kiss on the top of your head. She was still practically silent as you picked out a movie, but she pulled you close to her, slipping her hand up the front of your shirt and  running her thumb back and forth across your skin. 

Even if she was only letting this happen because she thought she was comforting you, it was still better than nothing. Better than the rare occasions that she’d sleep on the couch, almost as a punishment for herself when she didn’t perform the way she thought she should’ve. The blonde had gotten better since getting together with you, mostly because you pointed out the inconsistencies in how she treated you after a rough game, and how she treated herself. Some rough days sent her spiraling back to her bad habits, though, and you were glad you could pull her away from those, at least for today.

-------

“Cariño,” Alexia whispered, jostling you slightly. “Let’s go to bed, vale?” 

“Hmm?” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes. “‘M not asleep.” 

“Oh, sure. You are just watching the movie with your eyes closed?” 

“Sí,” you sighed, turning against her slightly until your head was laid on her chest. It vibrated under you as she laughed, and the sound woke you a bit more, glad to hear something even remotely joyful come out of your girlfriend’s mouth. 

“Venga, amor, it is time for bed.” She insisted, gently sitting up and easing you into an upright position. You pouted at her, wishing the smile on her face would reach her eyes. When it didn’t, you rose from the couch, grabbing Alexia’s hand, and pulling her towards the bedroom. 

You both made quick work of your nighttime routines, and you were glad to slide into the bed, undeniably exhausted from the physically and emotionally draining day. Alexia slipped in next to you, though she didn’t really get comfortable; she remained halfway sat up, staring at the ceiling above her. You tucked yourself into her side, burrowing under the covers until you were surrounded by soft fabric and Alexia’s sweatshirt. She seemed wide awake, and you laced your fingers with her, rubbing your thumb comfortingly along the back. 

“Sleep, baby. You need rest. Everything will feel better in the morning.” Alexia nodded mechanically, giving you a half smile that you didn’t buy for a second, before her eyes fluttered shut. “I love you. You’re my favorite person.” You whispered. 

She opened her eyes again at your words, softening slightly. She turned on her side and pulled you into her chest, wrapping you up tightly in her arms. “Te amo, mi niña, eres perfecta.” She whispered. 

-------

You fell asleep easily. Alexia, evidently, had not. You realized this when you rolled over in the middle of the night, seeking out your girlfriend to curl up against, and only felt cold sheets next to you. 

It woke you up, and you opened your eyes, in your sleepy haze worried Alexia had gotten sick or something. You looked around the room, and towards the bathroom, but no lights were on. You sat up in the bed, forcing yourself to wake up more. Once you had thought about it for a minute, you had a sneaking suspicion about where your girlfriend had disappeared to in the middle of the night. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, checking Alexia’s location, and sure enough, her little profile picture was at a park a few blocks away. It had a football pitch, and Alexia sometimes slipped away there when she wanted to clear her head, but not deal with seeing people she knew at the Barça training ground. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, even though you had half a mind to call Ale’s mom and get Eli to deal with her, knowing she could scold her daughter much more effectively than you could. It was the middle of the night, though, and you knew that Alexia may need a softer approach. You weren’t really sure what headspace she’d be in when you found her, and it was at this thought that you began to move faster, pulling on joggers and a shirt, and rushing down the stairs. You could visualize what she’d be doing, taking shot after shot on goal, but you couldn’t figure out how she’d be acting. Upset, or sad, or angry, or still completely blank. You grabbed your car keys, not really wanting to waste a second longer than possible by walking to where Alexia was, although it wasn’t far. 

It only took a few minutes to arrive, and you pulled into the parking lot with your attention completely fixed on the figure across the park, running down the pitch with a ball at her feet. As you got closer, you took in how exhausted Alexia looked, as if she’d been at this for hours.

“Ale?” You called, finally arriving at the pitch and trying to get your girlfriend’s attention from the sidelines. She didn’t look over at you, too caught up in her own thoughts, trying to angle her shot in just right. 

You moved closer, and finally she saw you, just out of the corner of her eye. She stopped what she was doing, turning to face you. “Amor?” She questioned. “What are you doing here?” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her question. “Really? You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” Your girlfriend had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “It’s the middle of the night, Alexia. What are you doing?”

“I could not fall asleep.” Alexia told you, walking over to you, her ball abandoned behind her. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You asked, brushing a few pieces of flyaway hair off her forehead. She melted into your touch, her body slouching down towards you, giving you even more of an idea of how exhausted she was. 

“I wanted you to rest.” She said quietly, and it was a perfectly believable explanation, but for some reason you had a feeling that there was more to it than that. You fixed her with a look, raising one eyebrow. The blonde sighed again, grabbing your hand in hers. “Can we go home?” 

“Only if you promise to talk to me when we get there. Otherwise I’ll make you stand in goal while I shoot.” You teased, happy to see a small smile on your girlfriend’s completely drained face. 

“Promise.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze as you both began to walk towards the park exit. 

-------

You sent Alexia to shower upon arriving home, sitting on the couch until she was done, absolutely sure that if you got back in bed, you’d instantly fall back asleep. Alexia very timidly walked out of the bathroom 20 minutes later, all bundled up in a sweatshirt and sweatpants even though it was rather warm out. 

Alexia looked weirdly nervous as she sat down next to you, her eyes everywhere but on yours. She reached for your hand very hesitantly, relaxing slightly when you intertwined your fingers with hers easily. 

“What’s wrong, Ale?” You asked. 

“I am sorry about today. Really sorry, amor.” 

You opened your mouth, prepared to tell her that you forgave her for sneaking away in the middle of the night instead of waking you up, but you stopped when you looked at her closer, and found tears in her eyes. Something about the way she’d phrased it, too, that she was sorry about ‘today,’ didn’t sit right with you. 

“What are you sorry about?” You asked, frowning when Alexia chewed on her lower lip instead of answering. 

“I disappointed you today.” She said finally. 

“Alexia,” you rushed to contradict her, but she cut you off. 

“No, I know I did. I am sorry, I will do better, mi amor, I promise.” 

“Love, you did not disappoint me.” You insisted, cradling your girlfriend’s cheek and wiping away a stray tear. She shrugged, like she didn’t believe you. “You could never disappoint me, Alexia, especially not by missing a shot. Why do you think that?” 

Her eyes flicked up to yours, finding only sincerity there, as she took a deep breath, and spoke. “I told you I was proud of you.” Alexia mumbled, her cheeks flushing. “You did not say it back. And you normally give me a hug after matches in the locker room, but you did not, not until I hugged you.” 

You were sure you felt your heart crack in two. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” You said, reaching to pull her into a hug. She shrugged out of your grasp, though, and you were furious with yourself in that moment. 

“You do not need to be sorry, I understand.” She said, albeit rather miserably, looking so angry and upset with herself, when she really should have been directing that at you. 

“No, Alexia, look at me.” You insisted, gently tilting her head to look at you. She was barely holding back tears, her lip wavering sadly. “Oh, my love. I didn’t say it back because I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. You never listen after rough games, I was trying to let you have your feelings for the night, and then try to make you feel better tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d want comfort, Alexia, not today. I am so proud of you, Alexia. Every day, I am proud of you, especially today. You did everything you could do, I know that. It just wasn’t our day. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti.” You emphasized. 

Alexia nodded slowly, but you could tell she didn’t fully believe you. 

“Would you ever be disappointed with me for missing a shot?” You asked, slightly amused when the blonde whipped her head up to look at you, a frown set on her features. 

“No. Never.” Alexia said quickly, appalled at even the idea.

You smiled at her sadly. “Can you not imagine that I feel the same way about you, Ale? That I love you just as much as you love me? 

Your girlfriend swallowed roughly, reaching to pull you into her lap, and into a hug. You let her manhandle you the way she wanted, wrapping your arms around her and kissing the side of her head repeatedly once she grabbed on to you. 

“It is hard to believe sometimes. It is… too good to be true. That you love me like I love you. I do not always feel like I deserve it. Especially when I am grumpy all day after we lose, and I sneak out of our bed, and make you come find me in the middle of the night.” Alexia said, her voice dripping with insecurity. 

You pulled back just slightly, pressing your forehead to Alexia’s, threading your fingers through her hair. “You always deserve it. Always, Alexia. And I would get out of bed in the middle of the night to come find you every day if you needed me too. I’d get on a plane in the middle of the night and fly halfway across the world to find you, if that’s what you needed.” You whispered, leaning forward to press your lips to Alexia’s. 

She kissed you back, hard, trying to tell you how much everything you’d said meant to her. 

“I’d rather not, but I’d do it.” You mumbled against her mouth, feeling her smile against your own lips. 

“Okay.” She said finally, and it was clear to you that she believed you a bit more now, and that she’d believe you even more tomorrow. “I will keep my fleeing of the country to a minimum.” 

You laughed. “Good. Because I want to go to bed.” 

Alexia nodded enthusiastically, rising up off the couch with you held securely in her arms. “Me too.” 

She carried you towards the bedroom, already physically more relaxed than she’d been all day. 

“If you set an alarm for the morning, I will make you sleep at the park tomorrow night.” You told her, letting out a rather undignified squeak when she gently threw you down on the bed. 

She smiled at you mischievously, her bad day completely forgotten. How could she think about her performance when you were so perfect, and so pretty, and she was so tired.

“No alarm.” She promised, turning her light off and collapsing onto the bed next to you. It had been a mistake, not waking you up before. Because when you pulled her into you and began to scratch lightly at her back, she went completely limp, and she knew you were all she needed to fall asleep. Alexia didn’t need to practice her shots until her legs were numb. She just needed to lay her head on your chest and hear your heartbeat in her ear, and she’d remember that everything would be okay. 

------

hope you enjoyed :)

[wonryllis]

ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR NON!IDOL S/O.

────────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽.

CONTAINS. idol!enhypen showing you GENRE. fluff, fem!reader, requested WORDCOUNT. 727 LIB?

𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 everyone knows okay everyone just does. it's in his eyes, it's in the way he speaks, it's in his body language, it's in the way he dresses, it's in the little advice and messages he leaves on weverse, it's in the pictures he posts. just everything exudes that he's a taken man desperately in love. his reveal is normal, an official announcement from the company the day after their contractual dating ban is over. appearing on a talk show after all excited to tell everyone about you to be hit by the realization that people actually did have idea just not that you are non celeb.

𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he does not give a fuck about anyone but you. would reveal it so nonchalantly like he's on a live and fans accidentally spot you moving around in the background and he's like,"oh yeah that's my girl, would y'all like to say hi?" he'd call you over and have you sit on his lap the entire time, though not showing your face he doesn't want your privacy getting taken away. you both would laugh and interact with the comments and answer fan questions like you've been public for years. talking about first impressions, who's more clingy, why you chose him yk.

𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 he's scared, not for himself but for you. baby doesn't want his baby getting those hates and threats. he takes a little safer side, writing a personal note addressing the love of his life and asking to be respected and given privacy. monitors the response and as soon as everyone seems accepting he's showing you off everywhere he can, from talking about you on lives and interviews and shows to posting little tmis on social media. fans even grow to tease him with your name challenging him to things he wouldn't otherwise do. cutesy and hot alike.

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 he has no intentions of revealing it like until he has a baby with you or something. but poor guy is so bad at concealing his feelings like he's on a show to give advice on fans queries and there's this specific question about how do you know you love someone and hoon is just K.O. ed rambles on about how there's this internal feeling and you just know it when you look at them, they're the best in the entire world and everything. then later on panics when articles surface about it, "oh my god baby they know! they know!" and he ends up confirming the rumours.

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 this guy can't wait to let the world know about you, his special person, his home. takes every chance he gets to reveal y'all but the manager jumps in every single time telling him it's not the 'right time' yet. he's so annoyed now, he's taking it the dispatch way. sneakily going places without cover, not necessarily to you and then when the articles are out jumping at the first opportunity to introduce his lovely partner through a message to his fans. talking about how long he's been waiting to let them know this important person and how much he loves you.

𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 my boy is soft launching it. he's posting these random ass pictures of succulents and cardigans and hairpins and lipgloss and everyone is so confused until he starts with pictures of hands that are too pretty to be his, skirts with thighs that couldn't be him and lastly a picture of him twirling around someone with the caption,"everyone meet my baby! :))" and after that he's making everyone sick with lovey dovey pictures of you everyday everywhere, twitter, instagram, weverse you name it, everywhere! fans be getting every little update of your love life.

𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 leaves little hints and tricks here and there to get the fans crazy with suspicions but at the same time not enough to expose y'all. plays at it for about a year before he gets impatient and unsatisfied with just little bits and pieces wants to upload full on vlogs about his days with you. wanting to post things like 'dance challenge with my beloved' literally has it on the tip of his mouth "i love my girlfriend," begs the company to let him reveal it and they're like we never stopped you?? so he does talking about it with fans- my girlfriend does that too! my girlfriend would love that!

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[justyn1]

The Spycrab. Why does it exist?

What is a Spycrab?

A Spycrab is an iconic animation bug for the Spy from Team Fortress 2. This bug was introduced since the game’s launch in 2007 and still exists today!

This post will cover on what causes this bug happen, how to fix it, and why it SHOULDN’T be fixed.

Debugging the Spycrab

First we need to know how do you become a Spycrab in TF2. To become a Spycrab the player have to pull out the disguise kit, crouch, look up, then start moving in any direction.

This give us a clue on what’s going on. The issue is related to looking around while crouching with the Spy’s disguise kit. We can take a look at how Valve setup the Spy’s animations since they provided the model sources in the Source SDK. Let’s take a look at spy_movement.qci since that’s where they handle all of the animations related to moving around. From this point I will refer the disguise kit as PDA since that’s what it called in the sources. Looking at the entry for Crouch_PDA and Crouch_Walk_PDA everything seems to be written correctly. Theres nothing wrong with the code itself

Line 15: $sequence Crouch_PDA PDA_crouch_idle loop alignto a_reference addlayer PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle activity ACT_MP_CROUCH_PDA 1

Line 424: $MPCrouchWalkWithWeapon Crouch_Walk_PDA 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 PDA_crouch_walkN PDA_crouch_walkCenter PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle ACT_MP_CROUCHWALK_PDA $infoNode$  

This means that the issue is coming from one of the animations itself. Lets load up the PDA crouch animations in SFM and compare with the normal stand up animations.

Everything looks fine however there’s something odd with the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation. It’s in a different pose entirely! To summarize what a aim matrix do, the animator put the character in various poses mimicking that the character is looking around. The game will take those poses and blend between them depending on what direction the player is looking. Generally you don’t want to stray way from the idle pose too much since it can cause potential problems when blending between various poses at once.

With closer inspection, it seems the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation is actually an early version of the spy’s knife aim matrix animation. Here’s both aim matrices side by side.

The Fix

Now knowing that the bug is created by accidentally exporting another aim matrix animation for the wrong weapon. The fix is actually very simple! Without touching the animation files itself. We can go into the spy_movement.qci and replace any mention of pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle with pda_aimmatrix_idle and that’s it! Compiling spy_animations.qc and loading up TF2 we will see the Spycrab no longer works.

But should this bug really be fixed?

This is the part where I tell you that the Spycrab bug should never be fixed in TF2. Even though this bug was stemmed from a mistake and it’s pretty simple to fix. This bug should never be fixed purely because it’s very important for the game’s history and community. After this bug was discovered and popularized back in 2008. It spawns plenty of memes within the community and in-game references from community cosmetics and unusuals, an official rare taunt for the disguise kit, warpaints, and a poster from the map Carnival of Carnage a Halloween reskin of Doomsday.

Hopefully this post provide some interesting insight on how this iconic bug was created and the process of debugging animations in Source Engine!

[seat-safety-switch]

With the ever-present rush towards convenience, so many sit-in restaurants are becoming take-out-only instead. Let's be honest: none of us really want to go outside and talk to people in order to get food. Just flip that app and bingbong® yourself a drunk order of fried treats for only $25 in fees.

Pizza Hut was one of the first to abandon the pull of large square footage, throwing millions of nostalgic red plastic cups into industrial grinders in a mad rush to stop bleeding so much goddamn money all the time. Today, those cups are worth $250 on eBay, so they look pretty stupid now, don't they?

The problem with all this is, in the time of our foreparents, it was real hard to fake the existence of a restaurant. If you went to a Pizza Hut, it was a real-ass physical building. It probably had not been copy-pasted together by a bunch of Taiwanese scam artists using Google Image Search fifteen seconds before you appeared. That was more of a Taco Bell thing. Nowadays, you can't be sure. Computers treat bullshit the same as any other kind of shit, so sometimes you'll be ordering from a completely imaginary restaurant. Feels weird, doesn't it?

As with many other cases in my adult life where I figured out everyone was just faking it, I decided to try and make some quick money. Papa needed a new engine, you see, and Slant Sixes don't exactly grow on trees anymore. With just a couple wonky Excel spreadsheets and a glob of code the size of Upper Tonawanda, I was in business with Switch's Fun-Time Pizza, an entirely non-fictitious restaurant whose address happened to be at the same place as a Pizza Hut.

Folks would pay me money, and then I'd quickly pay Pizza Hut to have a pizza ready by the time the delivery guy rolled up. Nobody seemed to care that the box said the wrong thing, and soon I was collecting fat stacks of money for doing nothing at all, just like the platforms themselves. This went on for a few weeks, fattening my bank account for slaughter. Until the first complaints came in, that is.

Yes, friends: it turned out that the local Pizza Hut had hired someone who wasn't very good at washing their hands. Soon, I was handing out big-time refunds on behalf of a massive international corporation, except I was doing so out of my own ill-gotten profits. My rickety, strung-together bullshit engine made entirely out of spreadsheets and chewing gum simply could not comprehend the idea of a refund, much less one for a weak human phenomenon such as food poisoning. Soon, all the money was gone.

Have I learned something from this whole experience? Yes. The most important thing in food service is to wash your hands thoroughly before (and after!) handling the customer's meat. The second most important thing is to charge at least a hundred percent premium over your supplier, to leave room for little hiccups such as this.

That's way easier to do if you position yourself as an upscale luxury restaurant, such as Lord Switchington of Canterbury's Refined Palate Pizza Parlour For Bourgeois Assholes Only, which will be launching this weekend in the very expensive neighbourhood next to mine. Hopefully their Pizza Hut is a little bit better at keeping the bathroom soap dispenser stocked.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this one was kind of short, but heres part two! smut and rosie lore to come soon!

series masterlist here

part two: you ought’a wear sunscreen, lovie

Simon lay in the large cold bed of the guest room he had been provided about a week after his arrival to the cabin, wide awake. The sun was just starting to come up and he hadn’t yet slept, hadn’t even tried. How could he when you were in the room next to him snuggled up into your mound of blankets on the bed? He cursed John out when he had called him after his arrival. How had he left you out of the details when he’d coaxed him into coming to the cabin? ‘Forgoht ‘bout her, pretty little one, ain’t she?’ He had chuckled into the other end of the phone. ‘S’only for a couple o’months, LT, s’long as you’re nice to ‘er she’ll keep your belly full and your clothes clean.’ He hung up after that, and hadn’t picked up any of Simon’s calls or answered a message since.  

Forgot about her, Simon scoffed just thinking about it. He didn’t believe it for a second. How could Price possibly forget about the shy, beautifully curvy, unmated, impossibly adorable Omega he paid to be a live-in housekeeper for the cabin he conveniently sent his unmated, typically uncontrollable problem Alpha to vacation in? He smelled matchmaking all over it and he hated it. 

‘But it’s working.’ Simon grunted, rolling onto his side in hopes that his inner monologue would get the memo to shut up. ‘It’s working and you know it’ And goddess, he did. It was working. She was beautiful, and so deliciously plump and he wanted to kick himself for being an ass when he first spoke to her. He wanted to kick himself for wanting nothing more than to mark her, rub his scent all over her, keep her barefoot and fat and round with his pups. He wanted to kick himself for the way he felt his cock grow hard at just the thought of putting his pups in her. He was better than that, wasn’t he? 

He wanted to kick himself for the way that he already felt protective over her, as if he had already mated and impregnated her. As if they were already married. He felt himself wanting to be no more than an arms length away from her and he barely spoke to her. She dropped a knife while she was loading the dishwasher after supper the night before and he could have cried when he heard her mumble and ‘ow’ and bend down to rub her foot. ‘Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, should’ve been me’ He had heard his wolf chant over and over in his head and he had to really work to remember that he was an extremely disciplined man because without barely a thought he almost launched himself over the kitchen island to make sure you were okay. His fist clenched at just the memory of it. 

He could’ve cried when he heard your soft moan filter through the thin walls of the cabin, you were waking up and he would be subject to another day of breathing in your scent, of wanting to protect and hold you and not being able to.. ‘And why aren’t we able to? What’s stopping you?!” That voice again. That stupid stupid wolf trying to take over his rational sided mind. 

What was stopping him?

Nothing physically, he presumed. Aside from himself…it was always himself. The memories of watching his Alpha father and how he treated his Omega mother..of not feeling like a good enough Alpha himself because he couldn’t always protect her. Couldn’t always stop him..how could he possibly be good enough to protect this sweet little thing that was being dangled in front of him? You didn’t deserve inadequacy. He doesn’t deserve you. You want to bury your ugly mug between her legs..she made you a fucking pot roast and homemade desserts and you don’t deserve her? He’d never wanted to shut the wolf up more. 

You moved as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb Simon in the room next door as you shuffled through the room, gathering fresh panties and a pretty little sundress for the day before making your way to the bathroom across the hall. The shower head spits out hot water almost immediately and you sigh, dropping your overly large sleep shirt to the floor as you step in, moaning as the steamy water rolls over your tense shoulders. You hadn’t been sleeping very well, images of your Papa floating behind your eyelids every time you closed them, causing you to toss and turn or wake up in a fright if you had managed to even fall asleep. 

You hum as you wet your head, massaging shampoo into it as you try to scrub the images and dreams from your mind, leaving you in a better mood by the time you’re done. 

By the time you step out it had been nearly an hour since you’d stepped in, your skin exfoliated and smooth, shining even. Your hair washed and conditioned, soft and silky and wrapped in a towel above your head where it would stay until you were ready to blow dry it in your bedroom, sat in front of your vanity. You take the time to lather your body in lotion, a cozy smelling one that moisturized your already smooth and shining skin before you slipped into your panties and tightened the little corset on the back of your sundress. 

It was a white number, with little roses on it that fell to just above your ankles and showed off plenty of cleavage. The skin of your chest was already red from the sun the other day when you were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables while Simon lounged in the living room (though unbeknownst to you he had spent the whole time watching your every move out of the window next to the plush armchair he had taken post in, waiting for something to happen so he could jump to your rescue), you had forgotten your sunblock again and the hat you wore atop your head did nothing to help protect your delicate skin from the blistering rays of the summer sun. 

A part of you wondered what Simon would think of the dress, and as you thought it your cheeks flushed, making you hurry across the hall back to your room to finish getting ready before he caught you, you could hear him rumbling around the other guest room, you were sure he’d be wanting the bathroom any moment now. 

Another hour passes before you decide that you’re ready to leave the sanctuary of your room, hair braided and tied with a cream colored ribbon, glasses on your face instead of your normal contacts (your eyes were bugging you, your head pounding - which in hindsight probably was a warning that your heat was coming) and a bit of makeup splattered across your face, presentable to the public..to Simon..

He’s already in the kitchen when you hit the stairs, you can smell the coffee starting to brew and hear the clumsy sound of him tinkering around in there, muttering to himself, though what he’s muttering about you’re unsure, not able to make out the words exactly. “Simon?” You question, stepping down off of the final stair, headed for the coat rack to grab your purse and your big sunhat. 

“Ye-” He choked on his own words and you turned to see if maybe he had burned himself with the coffee, not expecting to find him staring at you, wide eyed under his mask. You cock your head to the side, concerned, purse dangling from your hands as you make to step towards him. “You..uh..” He he clears his throat, closes his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “You look..pretty..” He says, and almost as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel your cheeks begin to heat, averting your eyes as you fidget with your skirt. “Did you need somethin’, Lovie?” 

It’s your turn to stutter and choke now, and you do, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times before you remember what you had begun to say in the first place. “I was just going to see if you wanted to go into town with me?” He thinks we’re pretty! He thinks we’re pretty! Your wolf howls in your already aching head, causing you to wince just the littlest of bits. “I need to grab a few things from the market..thought maybe you might want to get out..” When he doesn’t respond right away you panic, and word vomit starts to come out, not even realizing you’ve cut him off from speaking. “I mean of course, only if you want to..it’s stupid of me to assume that you even want to leave, i guess you’re technically on vacation right? How silly to think that you’d want to leave the house..anyway i’ll just be gone a few hours..” 

He’s got his back turned to you by the time you’re finished, fishing for something in a drawer. You dumb ditzy bitch! You’ve ruined it! Ruined! “You outght’a put on some sunscreen, lovie..” He says, turning around with a tube of it in his large hand. Oh! He’s so thoughtful! He’s so sweet! Providing for us like a good alpha! Can we thank him? Can we kiss him? Please, please, please!!! “S’long walk into town, s’awful sunny out..” Before you know it, his large palm is smathering a layer of the thick lotion onto your bare skin, grazing the top of your breasts. Your face is on fire, heat rushing to it, though you can’t look away from him, his brown eyes on yours as he works it in. “There ye’go, can’t have this delicate skin puckering up out there, can we?” His touch is lingering, caressing even, and you open your mouth to say something but before anything can even come out he’s opened the door, sun shining down as he ushers you out, hand going to your lower back as he steps out after you. 

The walk into town was a long one, and while you typically didn’t mind it, it felt even longer with the presence of him by your side. A tall, silent shadow right next to you, and if you stood on the right side of him he did more sun blocking than your hat ever did. You talked enough for the both of you though, and though you were sure you were annoying him with your endless babbling about the things you needed to buy and why, he was kind enough to grunt and throw in the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘wow’ in where it seemed needed. You didn’t mind, though you were finally slowing down on the word vomit once you neared town, you found yourself instinctually moving closer to his side, wanting nothing more than to just cling on for dear life as townfolk began watching the two of you. 

You were familiar with most of them, you were an usual face having made many trips into the village since you’d been here, but something about the way some of the men stared at you was making your skin crawl. Was it because you were with Simon? Were they jealous? Or were they just being cautious because this was an Alpha they hadn’t seen before? They were used to you coming into town every now and then with John, but mostly by yourself, it was rare to see you with someone else, let alone another man. Your head pounded, and sweat began dripping down your face under the brim of your sunhat. 

Your belly cramped, a low grunt coming from your chest as it did and suddenly, you have a revelation. 

Heat, heat, heat, heat. You pouted, your wolf louder in your mind. No wonder she was reacting this way to him, you thought. It was just because you were due for your heat. You felt silly for not having tracked your cycle or paid attention to the dates well enough to realize it was time. Pups! Oh he could fill us with his litter! I bet his cock is nice and fat, get us nice and full! Your cheeks flushed as you tried to decipher the difference between your thoughts and hers, unsure of who thought what at that moment. 

“Okay there?” He asks, bumping your shoulder with his elbow. 

You look up and he’s already staring at you, eyes drawn tight under that damn mask. How was he not hot? “Just fine.” You smile, looking at him. “I have a few things to grab at the market..it’s just the next street over, can we go there first?”

He follows you silently, if he’s not right next to you, he’s trailing behind and in all honesty his strong, silent presence makes you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You know you don’t have to watch your surroundings constantly while you’re out, he’s an Alpha, his natural instinct is to protect and he seems to do it just oh so naturally, holding his arm out to stop you when you’re about to cross a busy street, holding your hand gently once he deems it safe enough, ushering you to the part of the sidewalk farthest from the bustling street, his body shielding you if something were to happen..

He opened the doors of the market for you, got you a little buggy and though you insisted on pushing it, he refused, keeping your cute little purse safe in the childs seat once you had set it down. Simon followed along the aisles, watching you pout down at your little list and then stare up at the shelves, your frown deepening when they didn’t have a certain item and you had to settle for an alternative. You didn’t see his fists clenching around the mental handle of the buggy as he watched you, didn’t hear the internal battle he was having with his wolf about leveling the entire store because you were unhappy at their lack of a certain product. 

It was when you were waiting in line for the butcher that he finally spoke again. You just wanted some chicken cutlets, and a couple of good steaks but your body seemingly had other ideas. Your heat was coming strong and fast, evident in the way that you whimper and nearly double over out of nowhere, grabbing Simon’s hand as you grab your lower belly, lips puckered and eyebrow furrowed. 

“Al’righ, Rosie?” He asks softly, worried, looking down at you, his big hand is on the middle of your back, the other on your shoulder as he crouches down slightly, as if to bring himself closer to your level. He’d smelled you since about the time you had first whimpered walking through town, your scent making his mouth water more than it normally did, his wolf trying harder and harder to take control of him, now that you were clearly in pain though, his wolf was whining, crying for him to do something and he couldn’t just ignore it. You nod meekly, trying to suppress a sniffle, to discreetly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “No, you’re not.” His voice is gruff, and he cringes as it reaches his own ears. “Wots wrong, lovie?” He asks, gentler this time, quieter. 

You look up at him, lips quivering and eyes watery and his body just wants to sag. Fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it, she’s sad, she’s sad i dont like it! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting her be sad? Why is she in pain? If he could tell himself to shut up and it actually work, he would have, but dammit the beast was right. Why wasn’t he fixing it? 

“Heat..” 

It was whispered, but it was all he needed. “Okay, lovie, lets get the rest of the groceries and get you home.” Home. Not just his boss’s cabin. Home. A meek nod in response. He tucks you into his side, dropping his big beefy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side tightly as he gives a long hard glare to the staring Beta’s and Alpha’s lingering around, even the one behind the meat counter. Your face is buried in his rib cage, just under his armpit as you breathe in his scent to calm yourself down, but also to protect yourself from the stares of the other people. Other unmated omegas, even some of the mated ones staring you down as you burrowed into the side of the giant man, your scent marking the whole store. Why wouldn’t they stare? You were the stupid one who couldn’t keep track of your own cycles. 

Simon does the rest of the shopping for you, slapping your list down onto the meat counter as he glares at the butcher, tells the man to make it snappy. “Need t’get this one ‘ome.” He says, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body, his voice just as tight as his grip as he talks to the grocers. You’re still clinging to his side, now shaking as the pain is coming quicker and quicker, when he makes it to the check out. He’s polite as he can be when you squeeze his hand, pouting at his gruff words and demands to hurry as he unloads the buggy, hands the cashier a wad of cash from his wallet while the bag boy works as fast as he can. 

You can barely fathom the walk back home, can barely stand on your own two feet as the light of day shines down on you when Simon helps you step out onto the street some more. He’s kind enough to think ahead, hails a taxi that the town is just barely big enough to justify having and ushers you in, giving gruff instructions to the driver as he plops down into the seat next to you, grocery bags at your feet as you curl into his side. 

“S’alright, Lovie,” He murmurs into our hair, hand rubbing up and down your bicep soothingly as you whimper again. “Get you home and into a hot bath in no time, okay? Get your nest all built up for you..”

This was going to be a long, long week. 

taglist:

@wise-owl

[oceaneyesinla]

Coming Home

I needed some soft Chuuya, so I wrote some soft Chuuya. This is VERY self indulgent and very fluffy

Slightly suggestive at the end - nickname used: angel

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Chuuya can’t help but release a tired, relieved sigh as the door to his apartment swings open. He’s been away for a week, and that’s a week too long when he knows just what’s waiting for him at home. You’ve ruined him for missions that take him away from Yokohama - how can he spend even a second away from the brightest star in the sky of his life? If you weren’t so important to Mafia operations in the city, he would bring you with him every time he leaves. Alas, it’s not to be - your biochemical knowledge and connections to the local hospitals make you too valuable to lose. 

Instead, the two of you spend all hours of the day and night on the phone; 3AM video calls, lunchtime phone conversations and good morning messages having to suffice even though all he wants is to wrap you in his arms and never let go. For now, he’s home, and the boss promised him at least a couple of days rest in return for going on this mission. It was an important one, and there were very few people Mori would trust such a task to.

The patter of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts, and he can feel a smile tugging at his lips. Clearly, you heard him open the door. He makes quick work of taking off his shoes and he’s just depositing his bag off to one side to deal with later when you round the corner. Your face lights up as you skid to a halt, almost sliding straight into the opposite wall. The laughter that bubbles out of him is soft and affectionate, as if his body needs some way to release all the love he feels for you before his heart explodes with it.

You look cozy, all wrapped up in one of his sweaters and fluffy socks on your feet, and you look like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He opens his arms, already knowing what your plan is, and he’s absolutely right. You barrel down the hallway, jumping into his arms and clinging to him with all your strength. Your legs lock around his waist, and you burrow your face into the crook of his neck, leaving little kisses that he swears he can feel even through the all the fabric of his clothes.

“Hey angel.” The last remnants of tension bleed out of him as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your favourite body wash, the one you started using when you decided it reminded you of him. Now, it just reminds you both of home.

“Missed you.” You’re pouting when you pull away to meet his eye, but it doesn’t last long when he peppers your face in kisses, reducing you to a giggling mess in moments. 

Kicking the door shut with his foot, he carries you further into the apartment, bypassing the couch and heading straight for the bedroom, “Missed you too. Did you do anything fun while I was gone? Spend the money I left you?”

You launch into an animated description of all the things you bought while he was gone and Chuuya could feel the fond smile growing on his face. This is what he misses most when you’re apart - the light in your eyes and the excitement in your voice is never the same through a phone screen.

The squeak you let out as he drops you onto the bed makes him laugh once again, and he quickly strips out of his work clothes and changes into something more comfortable. You’ve already tucked yourself under the covers by the time he’s done, and he joins you, immediately pulling you practically on top of him. After he’s been away, he likes to have you as close as possible. If he could crack open his ribcage and tuck you away in there, safe and sound, he would.

“What’s the plan, Chuu?” Your sweet voice is music to his ears, and he leans in to press a kiss to your head.

“First, we’re taking a nap, because I want to cuddle and I know you do too.” He lets his hand slide down your back, trailing down to the plush of your ass and giving it a light squeeze, “Then I’m going to show you just how much I missed my pretty angel.” He moves his hand back up to rub along your spine, smiling when he feels you relax into him, “Then we’re going out for dinner.”

You shift a little, dropping a couple of kisses along the sensitive skin of his neck before you snuggle back into his chest, “Okay. Love you, Chuu.”

“Love you too, angel.” The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is your soft smile, your features nothing short of angelic as you rest on him, content in his hold and infinitely trusting. His final thought before he slips into sleep is that heaven must feel like the love you share.

@pixelcafe-network

[cuntressgoingdigital]

in honor of the mma! abby x model! reader fic that is rotting in my drafts, i desperately wanna talk about the cute shit yall get into while pretending you're not dating - pt 2 if you care

free palestine! click this link for more info

☆ abby is so aggressively offline, but you are chronically online. in particular, you’re a livestream fiend. it’s a cute way to interact with your fans and it passes time while you’re getting ready for events. you two spend so much time pretending you aren’t together, but on more than one occasion people have screenshotted a figure that looks like her in the background. buff, long blonde hair, kind of tall, she’s hard to miss. you take delight in fucking with people so whenever people ask in your comments you reply with a quick

“no that’s the ghost that haunts my apartment. she’s nice though.”

☆ re: you enjoy fucking with people, once your relationship status was official and you two had settled, you’d post pictures of the two of you out at dinner captioned with some variation of “just a couple of besties”. abby doesn’t get the joke at all, but is happy to participate. 

☆ paparazzi are constantly up your ass, and one day when you’re on what you thought was a secluded beach with abby, they snap a picture of abby kissing you along your neck, your fingers wrapped in her long blonde hair. then, someone leaked the address of the hotel you’d be staying at and you were bombarded by fans at the door. one of them screams at you “was that a picture of you and abby on the beach?”

thinking quickly on your feet, you respond “i haven’t been to the beach in years.” an obvious lie, but it sold the idea that you weren’t going to talk about it. 

☆ celebrity blind items are constantly being released, revealing details of your personal life. you have no idea who on your team is running their mouth, but there were plenty of worse things that could be revealed to the public. 

this A- list model was caught at the club sucking face with this rookie alliterative alphabet fighter. sources are saying they’ve been together for months, but neither are willing to confirm on or offline.

☆ finally, about a year into your relationship you and abby concoct this ridiculous hard launch for your relationship status. abby’s in las vegas for a pretty important main card fight. not a title fight, but she was still new on the scene and was trying to establish her relevance. she gets a devastating first round knockout with the nastiest punch to the jaw that you’ve seen in a minute. 

the crowd is in an uproar when the announcer and her team flood the octagon. they ask the standard “how do you feel?”, “do you have anything you wanna say to the fans?” 

then came the question she was waiting for. “what are you going to do once you get out of the octagon?” 

“i’m gonna go call my girlfriend.” she chuckles between sharp exhales, still riding the adrenaline from the fight. “she’s the first voice i wanna hear after every fight. she couldn’t be here tonight because she’s off in milan, but i know there’s no way she missed this.”

of course you were watching. it was no secret that you were a ufc fan. you’d been caught front row in the stadium a few times. even if abby wasn’t fighting, you tried not to miss the pay per view events. 

an hour later a photo was uploaded on your instagram of you holding your phone to your ear, still in your pajamas with the caption

absolutely loving milan <3 

it took very little time for “WE WERE RIGHT!” to start trending on twitter.

i WILL be writing more of them don't worry. idc if only 3 people like this, more is coming :P

[solxamber]

Crisis Averted - Cater Diamond x reader

After a royal screw up, Cater is left scrambling trying to fix his mistake before you find out. Best part? You've known what he did from the start and you think it's hilarious.

It started out as a normal day. Sun shining, birds chirping, and Cater Diamond doing what Cater Diamond does best—being charming, taking selfies, and generally vibing. But today? Today was different. Today, something bad had happened. And Cater was in full-on crisis mode trying to fix it.

The problem? He’d accidentally erased an entire folder of your saved photos. Not just any folder, either—the one with all your most treasured memories. Birthday celebrations, vacations, goofy selfies of the two of you, everything. Gone. Deleted. Kaput.

Now, to most people, that might not seem like a big deal. But Cater knew better. Those pictures? They were important to you. You loved looking through them on rough days, getting lost in nostalgia, and reliving all those sweet moments. And now? Now they were digital dust, and he was freaking out.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…” Cater muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth in his room. He tugged at his hair, his phone in one hand as he furiously scrolled through every possible "how to recover deleted photos" forum. “I am so dead…”

What Cater didn’t realize, however, was that you already knew. In fact, you’d known from the start. He wasn’t exactly subtle, and after the fifth time he started texting you, only to delete the message before you could read it, you had a pretty good idea that something was up. Honestly? It was kind of… cute. Watching him scramble to fix things like that, his usual cool and carefree attitude unraveling right before your eyes.

You decided to sit back and let the chaos unfold.

Meanwhile, Cater was in full-blown panic mode. He had no idea how you hadn’t noticed yet. He'd been avoiding you all day, coming up with the most ridiculous excuses for why he couldn’t meet up. His messages were starting to get weirder, too.

Cater: Heyyyyy, babe! Can we talk? Wait, no. Scratch that. Uhm, are you free? Like, soon?

Cater: Actually, no. Never mind. I’m busy. Super busy. The busiest. TTYL!

You stared at your phone, a smirk playing on your lips. He was so bad at this. Deciding to mess with him a little, you shot him a casual reply.

You: Sure, I’m free! Wanna hang out?

There was a solid three minutes of radio silence before Cater’s reply came in.

Cater: Haha, maybe later? I’ve got, uh… stuff. Very important unbirthday stuff.

You could practically feel the anxiety radiating through the text. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Back in his room, Cater was biting his nails, sweat beading on his forehead. “Okay, okay, okay. Gotta fix this, gotta fix this now,” he whispered to himself, pacing like a madman. He quickly uses split card, and suddenly, there were three Cater Diamonds standing in front of him, all looking equally panicked.

“Alright, team,” the original Cater said, clapping his hands together. “We’ve got a mission. We need to recover those photos before they notice anything.”

One of the clones raised an eyebrow. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know!” Cater wailed. “That’s why we’re brainstorming!”

The clones exchanged a look before launching into a ridiculous plan. Clone One suggested hacking into your cloud account, while Clone Two thought maybe bribing one of your friends for a copy of the pictures might work. Neither idea was particularly realistic, but desperation was a powerful motivator.

“Alright, alright, calm down, me,” Cater said, rubbing his temples. “Let’s start with trying to recover the deleted files. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll… we’ll figure something out.”

The next few hours were a blur of Cater running around, trying every possible recovery trick in the book. He even roped his clones into checking your laptop, your external hard drives, and even the trash bin on your phone, all while sending you increasingly bizarre texts to keep you from getting suspicious.

Cater: Sooooo, what are you up to today? Got any fun plans? Not that I’m prying! Just curious!

You: Just chilling. You?

Cater: Oh, you know, vibing. Totally normal day here. Nothing weird happening.

You: Uh-huh. Sure.

By this point, you were just waiting for him to crack. And when he started sending his clones to “casually” check in on you—one pretending to drop by for a “totally innocent, nothing-to-see-here” visit—you had to bite back laughter.

The first clone showed up at your door, grinning nervously. “Hey! Just thought I’d swing by and say hi. You’re not, like, working on anything super important, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Not really. Why?”

The clone scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting around. “No reason! Just checking! Everything’s fine! Great! Haha, okay, bye!”

And he was gone just as quickly as he’d appeared.

You leaned back in your chair, shaking your head. Poor Cater was really losing it. And you… well, you were having the time of your life watching him squirm.

Finally, after what must’ve been hours of frantic searching, Cater hit his breaking point. All of his clones were gone, exhausted from their efforts, and he was alone in his room, slumped over his desk, completely defeated.

“I’m doomed,” he muttered to himself, face in his hands. “They’re going to hate me. I’ve ruined everything…”

That was your cue. You figured you’d let him off the hook before he spiraled into a full-on meltdown. Casually, you made your way over to his room and knocked on the door.

“Cater? You in there?”

There was a long pause, and then the door slowly creaked open. Cater peeked out, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. “Oh, hey…” His voice was weak, his usual enthusiasm completely drained.

You smiled softly, stepping inside. “You okay?”

He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I mean, no. Actually, no, I’m really not okay. I screwed up, and I didn’t know how to fix it, and now you’re going to be so mad at me, and I just—”

“Cater,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “I already know.”

He froze, eyes wide. “You… what?”

You chuckled. “I knew the second you started acting weird. You accidentally deleted my photos, right?”

Cater stared at you, completely dumbfounded. “You knew?”

“Yup,” you said, grinning. “And honestly? Watching you try to fix it has been hilarious.”

He gaped at you, his face a mix of relief, confusion, and a tiny bit of betrayal. “You… you knew? And you didn’t stop me?!” He whines "You're so, so mean!"

You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “I thought it was kind of cute. Plus, I backed up the photos ages ago, so it’s not a big deal.”

Cater sagged against you, all the tension draining from his body. “Oh my Seven… I thought I was going to die from stress.”

You smiled, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not off the hook, though. You still owe me for all the chaos you put me through today.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. “Fair. Totally fair. But… thanks. For not being mad.”

“Who could be mad at you?” you teased. “You were way too entertaining.”

Cater finally pulled back, his usual grin returning, though there was still a hint of sheepishness in his eyes. “Well, I guess if you enjoyed the show, then it wasn’t a total disaster.”

You chuckled, ruffling his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Diamond.”

He flashed you a wink, back to his old self again. “Oh, I know I am.”

And just like that, the crisis was averted.

Masterlist

[fazedlight]

Supergirl the show poses a question: Who is the real Kara?

Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers, Supergirl. Who's the mask?

In the beginning, Kara doesn't even know. In the aftermath of Krypton's and Kenny's deaths, she did everything she could to appear as normal as possible - there was little room for her own innate traits to shine through when she was being as nondescript and people-pleasing as possible.

But that's not who Kara is.

We get the first glimpse of who Kara really is during Flight 237.

This is not about her being Supergirl or her powers (though both are relevant). Kara has suppressed herself for over a decade. She's not going to make waves - until she has to. Our first real insight into who Kara is now is as a devoted sister. It wasn't until Alex's life was at risk that Kara started breaking out of her shell (and then there was no holding back).

Our protagonist is a mid-20s adult - this isn't a coming-of-age story in the traditional sense. But it is a story of finding oneself and what it takes to get there.

And it starts with defending found family after a lifetime of loss.

So Kara creates the Supergirl persona. I think the cape is a crutch.

People say "a crutch" like it's a bad thing. But crutches are actually pretty fucking useful. They support you when you need it, whether it be short-term or long-term. They help you get around when you otherwise may not be able to.

Kara was deeply traumatized by losing everyone and everything she ever knew, being thrown into a world that overwhelmed her senses and made even her most casual movements into dangerous ones, and was told she needed to suppress everything - who she used to be, what she was going through now - to survive.

To find herself again, maybe she'd need a tool to get past what she had been through! The cape became that tool. She was able to unbury the heritage she had been hiding, she was able to embrace the powers that had burdened her, she was able to find her own bravery (and reactivity, she's got flaws in there too).

Keep in mind, in the scene above, Kara isn't "human for a day". Kara is powerless... just like she spent the first 13 years of her life. Her bravery isn't about her powers or Supergirl; they just help her get started.

That's not where her growth ends.

Kara's instincts for helping people start getting unburied in season 1, and she is excited to tag along someone else's quest to figure out where future threats may lie, or figure out how she can use her powers in service to the DEO.

But it's not until this moment that she realizes that Kara Danvers can be more, too. Lena unintentionally launches Kara's career - a second pathway for Kara's desire to help people, growing into a passion she is going to pursue (even if she gets fired). Her worth is no longer just about her sun-granted powers or being Superman's "younger" cousin.

In season 4, we even see her realization that Kara Danvers can be more powerful than Supergirl, because some fights can't be won by fists. That's a real discovery for herself.

Which I think, looking back, might becoming especially baffling for her... because Kara Danvers was originally an identity imposed on her when she needed to hide.

It's important to note that, while Kara Danvers was originally a facade that Kara gets at thirteen, she doesn't stay a facade - even in the suppression era.

We don't see enough of who Kara is when she's on Earth, left to her own devices. But we see glimpses - we know she likes baking (and we know we shouldn't try what she makes), we know she paints, we know she listens to NSync and Britney Spears. She's a goofball (even when she puts on the cape). Kara Danvers starts as a facade, but becomes a vehicle for Kara to continue developing her personality, now in her new context.

Would she have the same interests on Krypton? Maybe some and not others, maybe some new ones that don't exist on Earth. We're all products of our environments, after all. Her interests as Kara Danvers aren't necessarily fake just because they're different than what she expected.

Though she'll never know who she would've become on Krypton.

Which brings us to Kara Zor-El - the identity that is frozen.

Most people aren't the same person as an adult that they were as a child. Interests, tastes, personality, world outlook, philosophy - all of these shift over time, sometimes dramatically.

Parts of her are going to be deeply rooted in Krypton, and she's going to have ties to a culture that no one else on Earth has. It's not an aspect of herself that she can erase. But it's also not an aspect of herself that was able to develop for the remainder of her childhood and early adulthood.

She, like all of us, was destined to lose pieces of herself. But some of her loss was very sudden, and the pieces she lost probably weren't going to be the same on Krypton. Of course, she has no way to know.

And I think that frustrates her.

I guess my answer to "Who is Kara?" is that the three personalities clash with and harmonize with each other. None of them are truly her. All of them inform who she is.

There's a young Kara Zor-El as her root that was torn from the ground before she could ever grow.

There's a Kara Danvers who formed the bulk of her life - a mask that was given to her, the only vehicle for her personality, who ultimately became someone she could embrace as worthwhile in her own right.

There's a Supergirl who distinctly separates from those around her, but lets her move past her numbness and reclaim her heritage.

And it's that clash that makes her a particularly compelling character.

Maybe that's a cheating answer to the original question.

But there's still a missing piece to the puzzle - because it's not just about Who is Kara? but also about Who does Kara want to be?

I think Supergirl is something that could fade if needed. If Kara lost her powers, she would find a new normal, so long as she was able to pursue her desire to help the world in some capacity.

But the truth of her is somewhere between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El. The truth of her is in what Supergirl allowed her to unbury, even if not directly tied to Supergirl herself. But Danvers and Zor-El are burdens, in a way. Lena is one of the few people who sees the person in between, who understands Kara on her own terms. Which is why Kara is terrified of Lena's rejection.

I think it's one of the most telling lines in the show - to be just Kara is to be free of her own baggage, to be able to embrace herself despite the pain in her history. Something I think we all want, that is never entirely possible.

But the pursuit is still a worthwhile one.

[literallymechanical]

Alessandro Volta's Electric Eels

Okay so, it turns out that your cell phone battery is a basically a homunculus of an electric fish. 

These are the same thing. Let me explain.

@fishteriously, a paleoichthyologist, told me that Alessandro Volta invented the electric battery after studying electric eels and rays.  This sounded like a fun science factoid!  I wanted to know more!  I saw the claim repeated on any number of pop science articles from the last century or so, but none that quoted from primary sources.

The voltaic pile is one of the most important inventions, ever, of all time.  Before Volta, electricity could be stored in Leyden jar capacitors, which would discharge in a single, brief burst. Volta's pile was the first method of producing a continuous electric current, which launched the modern era of electricity as we know it. His explanation for how it worked was incorrect, but it was still a massive breakthrough.

Batteries use the same principle to this day, just with different materials (e.g. cobalt oxide, graphite, and lithium salts rather than silver, zinc, and brine).

But is it a fish?

This is Volta's first schematic of a battery, or "voltaic pile" – at the time, "battery" referred to a bunch of Leyden jars linked in series, the term wouldn't come to refer to piles until later. "Z" and "A" stand for zinc and silver ("argentum"), with brine-soaked paper disks between. It does look a bit like an eel?

But is it truly?

Surely, if Volta modeled the pile after electric fishes, I’d be able to find a citation!  Wikipedia is usually a good place to start when hunting primary sources, but no luck.  No mention of fish at all.  I trust fishteriously more than wikipedia, however, so I went digging.  Looks like Volta first reported his discovery in a Letter to the Royal Society in 1800.

Found the letter!

Aw beans, it’s in French.  I haven’t studied French since high school.

BUT WAIT. WHAT WAS THAT.

Une commotion électrique? A trembling eel???

Okay so now I NEEDED to read the letter in English. I found an English-language summary published by the Royal Society, but it looks like the only English translation of the full letter was in the appendix of an out-of-print book called “Alessandro Volta and the Electric Battery.”

So I bought a used copy. Let's see what Volta has to say about this:

"To this apparatus ... I have constructed it, in its form to the natural electric organ of the torpedo or electric eel, &c, than to the Leyden flask and electric batteries [battery = linked Leyden flasks], I would wish to give the name of artificial electric organ."

Yes! The voltaic pile was explicitly modeled after electric fishes – torpedo rays and electric eels.  Fishteriously was 100% correct. Volta never even calls it a "pile," it is always "artificial electric organ." A significant portion of the letter is devoted to electric eels and torpedo rays, in fact.

But also, the rest of the letter is bonkers.

He wrote pages on painful experiments with the artificial electric organ – touching it, poking it into his eyes and ears, making other people touch it, generally just shocking the ever loving hell out of himself over and over. He routinely shocks himself so hard that he has to take breaks. And of course, he licks it.

But that's not the best part:

He says that the artificial electric organ can be turned sideways and submerged in liquid...

"...by which means these cylinders would have a pretty good resemblance to the electric eel ... they might be joined together by pliable metallic wires or screw springs, and then covered with a skin terminated by a head and tail properly formed, &c."

There you have it. One of the most important scientific discoveries of all time, and it includes a crafts project for building an authentic electric eel puppet.

In summary, next time you charge your phone, take a moment to thank the soul of the electric fish inside of it.

[nasa]

Caution: Universe Work Ahead 🚧

We only have one universe. That’s usually plenty – it’s pretty big after all! But there are some things scientists can’t do with our real universe that they can do if they build new ones using computers.

The universes they create aren’t real, but they’re important tools to help us understand the cosmos. Two teams of scientists recently created a couple of these simulations to help us learn how our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope sets out to unveil the universe’s distant past and give us a glimpse of possible futures.

Caution: you are now entering a cosmic construction zone (no hard hat required)!

This simulated Roman deep field image, containing hundreds of thousands of galaxies, represents just 1.3 percent of the synthetic survey, which is itself just one percent of Roman's planned survey. The full simulation is available here. The galaxies are color coded – redder ones are farther away, and whiter ones are nearer. The simulation showcases Roman’s power to conduct large, deep surveys and study the universe statistically in ways that aren’t possible with current telescopes.

One Roman simulation is helping scientists plan how to study cosmic evolution by teaming up with other telescopes, like the Vera C. Rubin Observatory. It’s based on galaxy and dark matter models combined with real data from other telescopes. It envisions a big patch of the sky Roman will survey when it launches by 2027. Scientists are exploring the simulation to make observation plans so Roman will help us learn as much as possible. It’s a sneak peek at what we could figure out about how and why our universe has changed dramatically across cosmic epochs.

This video begins by showing the most distant galaxies in the simulated deep field image in red. As it zooms out, layers of nearer (yellow and white) galaxies are added to the frame. By studying different cosmic epochs, Roman will be able to trace the universe's expansion history, study how galaxies developed over time, and much more.

As part of the real future survey, Roman will study the structure and evolution of the universe, map dark matter – an invisible substance detectable only by seeing its gravitational effects on visible matter – and discern between the leading theories that attempt to explain why the expansion of the universe is speeding up. It will do it by traveling back in time…well, sort of.

Seeing into the past

Looking way out into space is kind of like using a time machine. That’s because the light emitted by distant galaxies takes longer to reach us than light from ones that are nearby. When we look at farther galaxies, we see the universe as it was when their light was emitted. That can help us see billions of years into the past. Comparing what the universe was like at different ages will help astronomers piece together the way it has transformed over time.

This animation shows the type of science that astronomers will be able to do with future Roman deep field observations. The gravity of intervening galaxy clusters and dark matter can lens the light from farther objects, warping their appearance as shown in the animation. By studying the distorted light, astronomers can study elusive dark matter, which can only be measured indirectly through its gravitational effects on visible matter. As a bonus, this lensing also makes it easier to see the most distant galaxies whose light they magnify.

The simulation demonstrates how Roman will see even farther back in time thanks to natural magnifying glasses in space. Huge clusters of galaxies are so massive that they warp the fabric of space-time, kind of like how a bowling ball creates a well when placed on a trampoline. When light from more distant galaxies passes close to a galaxy cluster, it follows the curved space-time and bends around the cluster. That lenses the light, producing brighter, distorted images of the farther galaxies.

Roman will be sensitive enough to use this phenomenon to see how even small masses, like clumps of dark matter, warp the appearance of distant galaxies. That will help narrow down the candidates for what dark matter could be made of.

In this simulated view of the deep cosmos, each dot represents a galaxy. The three small squares show Hubble's field of view, and each reveals a different region of the synthetic universe. Roman will be able to quickly survey an area as large as the whole zoomed-out image, which will give us a glimpse of the universe’s largest structures.

Constructing the cosmos over billions of years

A separate simulation shows what Roman might expect to see across more than 10 billion years of cosmic history. It’s based on a galaxy formation model that represents our current understanding of how the universe works. That means that Roman can put that model to the test when it delivers real observations, since astronomers can compare what they expected to see with what’s really out there.

In this side view of the simulated universe, each dot represents a galaxy whose size and brightness corresponds to its mass. Slices from different epochs illustrate how Roman will be able to view the universe across cosmic history. Astronomers will use such observations to piece together how cosmic evolution led to the web-like structure we see today.

This simulation also shows how Roman will help us learn how extremely large structures in the cosmos were constructed over time. For hundreds of millions of years after the universe was born, it was filled with a sea of charged particles that was almost completely uniform. Today, billions of years later, there are galaxies and galaxy clusters glowing in clumps along invisible threads of dark matter that extend hundreds of millions of light-years. Vast “cosmic voids” are found in between all the shining strands.

Astronomers have connected some of the dots between the universe’s early days and today, but it’s been difficult to see the big picture. Roman’s broad view of space will help us quickly see the universe’s web-like structure for the first time. That’s something that would take Hubble or Webb decades to do! Scientists will also use Roman to view different slices of the universe and piece together all the snapshots in time. We’re looking forward to learning how the cosmos grew and developed to its present state and finding clues about its ultimate fate.

This image, containing millions of simulated galaxies strewn across space and time, shows the areas Hubble (white) and Roman (yellow) can capture in a single snapshot. It would take Hubble about 85 years to map the entire region shown in the image at the same depth, but Roman could do it in just 63 days. Roman’s larger view and fast survey speeds will unveil the evolving universe in ways that have never been possible before.

Roman will explore the cosmos as no telescope ever has before, combining a panoramic view of the universe with a vantage point in space. Each picture it sends back will let us see areas that are at least a hundred times larger than our Hubble or James Webb space telescopes can see at one time. Astronomers will study them to learn more about how galaxies were constructed, dark matter, and much more.

The simulations are much more than just pretty pictures – they’re important stepping stones that forecast what we can expect to see with Roman. We’ve never had a view like Roman’s before, so having a preview helps make sure we can make the most of this incredible mission when it launches.

Learn more about the exciting science this mission will investigate on Twitter and Facebook.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[81folklore]

as good as new - ALBON

pairings: alex albon x ex!girlfriend!reader (fc: quarterjade)

summary: alex soft launches his ex girlfriend after they find eachother again

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: ok so welcome to the start of the voulez-vous fic list! i hope this makes sense but incase it doesnt, alex and yn used to be dating before they split due to just growing apart, but they were meant to be😁

authors note 2: kinda rushed at the end so sorry about that! got a couple of requests to work on so ill try and get them done along with this fic list! and you cant still join the taglist!!

voulez-vous main masterlist

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, brookeabb and 122,268 others

happy new years!!🥂

view comments

user7 happy new year gorgeous!!

yourfriend2 SHINING SHIMMERING SPLENDIDDDD

brookeab SHE IS SO FINE AND SO CUTE AND PRETTY AND LOVELY

user82 JAW IS ON THE FLOOR??

user90 im so in love with you

user26 GET IN LINE

user38 so so so so stunning

twitter

alex_albon

liked by williamsracing, yourusername and 253,080 others

last dump of the year🇦🇪

view comments

williamsracing see you next year king🫡

user84 yn liking :’)

user9 THE FIFTH PIC?!

user47 is that..shirtless alex

user83 WHOS HOLDING THE BOX??

user97 technically its already 2024 but we’ll let it slide

user55 imagine its yn in the 5th pic..

user1 can we not? 1. its none of our business and 2. alex can move on and imagine being that girl and seeing people think its her bfs ex like..

yourusername

liked by pokimanelol, alex_albon and 92,389 others

me and my boy ⭐️

view comments

tinakitten CUTE AS HECK!!

yourfriend4 i miss him☹️

yourusername even though he hates you??

yourfriend4 he doesnt hate me, just not fond!!

user77 whos that in the second slide👀

user52 no tag either🤨

user13 moms weekend with the kids i see

user9 does alex get weekends? i thought the cats were yns?

user2 tbh we have no idea, i assumed he did but maybe not🤷‍♀️

user26 so so cute!! we need more pics of you and genji!!

alex_albon added to their story

caption:☀️🐈

replies

user66 GENJI AND MABEL!!

user73 we missed them :’)

user8 oh how i love cat dad alex

twitter

alex_albon • mallorca

liked by jensonbutton, yourusername and 293,286 others

me gusta la playa

view comments

user4 THE CENSORSHIP??

user89 three shirtless pics?? someone call george

georgerussell63 someones coming for my brand🤣

user9 the softlaunch..oh im losing my mind

user33 yn liking alexs softlaunch post..shes checking up on the ex😭

user12 ran into george and lando in the last pic

user1 alex is so hot😮‍💨

user912 alex is FEEDING us at the moment

yourusername • mallorca

liked by alex_albon, carmenmundt and 182,196 others

sorry cant talk rn im too busy being hot

view comments

carmenmundt absolute beauty💞🫶

user94 I CAN TREAT YOU SO WELL

user63 so so gorgeous

user9 alex and yn both being in mallorca and alex softlaunching..

user111 you are a dream

twitter

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 210,692 others

darling, we were always meant to stay together💫

i was searching for photos to post and decided on 6 that really showed my life these past months

1. a photo on the first day i went out after we split, i felt lost and alone and decided to start documenting my journey alone

2. this is a photo i took when i went home and felt peace for the first time since our break

3. a selfie we took in the taxi after our ‘first date’. we met up for the first time since, and spoke about our feelings and decided to start taking things slow

4. a day out with you and my sister, i felt so happy knowing i had the two most important people with me again

5. our first holiday, this will always mean alot to me. we both said i love you for the first time, we spent all day, every day together just loving and holding each other

6. we were leaving and instead of being sad we knew that this part of our life wasnt over but instead we were moving on to bigger and better things

i love you so much and im so thankful that i have someone has caring and loving as you

tagged alex_albon

view comments

alex_albon just like it used to be and even better🌟

alex_albon i love you so so much

alex_albon i promise to love you forever and ever

yourusername my loveliest boy

user71 THEYRE BACK

yourusername AND BETTER THAN EVER BABY

user111 MY FAVORITES

user9 i didnt read the caption and experienced genuine shock when i saw alex

user8 so proper just say you were shocked😭

user88 i need everything to apologize to mads RIGHT NOW

user61 all the hate on her WHEN SHE WAS RIGHT

taglist: @smartstupyd