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[watchmegetobsessed]

UNDONE I.

A/N: i've started like 3 wips these past weeks but finally finished one! so here is some boss!harry for you, let me know if you want more of it, bc i feel like i could def add to this story!

WORD COUNT: 8.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry is obsessed with Y/N. The only problem is that he is her boss, so he keeps this obsession to himself. But everything changes after one drunken night.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry has a love-hate relationship with the glass-walled meeting rooms in the office. Aesthetically they are bringing that well-known, usual vibe of every corporate office, nothing new, nothing unusual. Often, he is irritated that people tend to peek inside as they walk past towards the coffee machine or the restroom. He knows it’s second nature, they don’t necessarily try to intrude, but it tends to frustrate him when he is in the middle of a meeting and a random guy is just staring him down from outside. He tried to get the glass covered, but HR declined, they said something about transparency that just pissed Harry off even more, then he just gave up.

But lately, there’s been an advantage of those see-through dividers, because if people from outside can see in, that means Harry can see everything and everyone outside.

Like right now, as he is sitting by the oval table, laptop in front of him while the lawyers are talking about all the legal documents that are needed for their next deal, it’s an important step and Harry is usually great at focusing on what matters, but today his attention is somewhere else.

Outside of the meeting room, right by Y/N’s desk. 

She is the latest addition in the department, a talented analyst who joined a little over three months ago. Harry knows she is great, because he was there at her interview. He is usually not one to attend interviews, but the hiring manager got sick and they needed someone from management to be there as well and Harry had a spare hour he wanted to use to get a little ahead on that tender he’d been working on, but that got thrown right out the window. 

It was the last thing he wanted to do, listen to some random analyst who probably never even saw a DWH system, they always think they are qualified to deal with anything, but then they see just how much data they need to work with and then freak out. Harry was convinced it would happen that time too, but he was wrong.

Y/N walked in there, seemingly nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her cardigan, looking like a frightened little rabbit, so innocent, so sweet, something surprising happened. 

Harry was in awe. 

He found himself being drawn towards her, interested in how she’d perform at the interview. He kept a straight face as the recruiter beside him asked her some basic questions and then he took over for the professional part. 

He gave her his hardest questions, things even seniors might not know, he quizzed her about topics that are way too specific to work around and… she excelled. She couldn’t answer every question, but she worked up a logic she would use to at least try to tackle the matter and Harry knew she would succeed if she had the right materials. 

She blew his mind away. Once she left, he turned to the recruiter and said:

“I want her. Get her to start next week.”

And she did. Next monday, she was holding her onboarding package, eyes bright as she got seated at her desk, ready to start working. 

Now she is sitting at the same spot, wearing her blue light glasses, her eyebrows slightly furrowed behind them as she is working on something on her computer. She is wearing a long sundress today with a yellow cardigan to cover her shoulders. Harry has noted her colorful outfits every morning when she strolled into the office, brightening the otherwise dull atmosphere. It’s a whole floor full of developers, analysts and other IT professionals, they are not known for their exquisite fashion taste, but Y/N is different. Her wardrobe is full of colors and pieces others wouldn’t consider as business casual, but somehow she always makes it work. 

She is the kind of person that has a nice word for everyone, she often brings coffee to Linda, whose desk is across from hers and they usually have lunch together, Harry has noted. She is always happy to help others, she is great at seeing problems differently and quick to come up with solutions. She is definitely a favorite among her colleagues.

Unlike Harry.

Not that he wants to be liked, he is head of IT, he needs to lead, keep everything under control and make hard decisions. He is not stupid, Harry knows most people in the department fear him, he is not known for being friendly and chatty. He usually has so much work he doesn’t have time left to get a coffee with anyone, not that he would have anyone to invite. He is the gruff boss who is always busy and people try not to cross paths with. 

He doesn’t mind it. He likes to be focused on his work and most people don’t realize how hard it is to be the one to decide about budget cuts, downsizing and restructuring, because they don’t see what goes down behind these decisions, they just want to blame someone and that’s usually him. They don’t want to be friends with the big boss who fired their work bestie, even if it was a known fact they never did their job.

It was never an issue for him how his employees saw him. Until her. 

Someone stops by Y/N’s desk and he watches her face light up as she gives them her attention. He can’t hear what she is saying, but when she laughs, it rings in his ears. He loves hearing her laugh.

“So what do you think?” one of the lawyers asks him and he snaps back, realizing he has no idea what they were talking about in the last five minutes. He quickly looks down at his notes so far, but there’s no use. 

“Uh, I’ll leave it to you. I have to go now, do you think you can have everything set by the end of next week? We need it for the next sprint.”

“Sure,” the guy nods, his name is something with a J, but Harry can’t remember what it is. 

He is relieved that he could dodge admitting he has no idea what was talked about, shutting his laptop he murmurs a thank you for the group and he is the first one to walk out of the room, heading towards his office. 

Y/N is not at her desk when he walks past and he looks for her, hoping he is not too obvious, but he sees no trace of her. Is she having coffee with that guy who walked up to her desk? Are they planning something outside of work? Does he want to date her?

Harry’s thoughts are racing as he closes the door behind him, shutting out the general buzz of the open office outside. With a sigh, he sits down in his chair, places his laptop onto the desk, but leaves it unopened for a bit as he rubs his face with his hands. 

He always has control. He plans and keeps himself to his plan, he gathers data, analyses and then makes a new plan. Easy as it is. This is why he likes his job, IT is usually exact, the problem might be deeply hidden, but it’s always exact, he just needs to find the data.

But he’s been feeling chaotic lately. He is disoriented, can’t focus at meetings and finds himself thinking about her when he is supposed to be working. He just can’t help it. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, then rolls his head, his neck cracks and he lets out a groan before opening his laptop and trying his best to get back to working. The code opens in front of him and he focuses on the lines he’s been trying to rewrite, but right when he is about to start typing, there’s a knock on his door. For a second, he feels irritated that he was interrupted again, but then he looks past the screen and sees her.

Harry nods and Y/N walks through the glass door, holding her laptop to her chest, smiling shyly. Harry likes to think that this smile is for him only, that he is the reason to bring it to her lips, though he doubts he has such an effect on her. But still, it’s a nice thought. 

“Hey,” he greets her as she crosses the room and sits across from him. 

“Hi. Am I disturbing you?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“I finished those tables you asked for yesterday, but I wanted to run a few things with you.”

“You… finished?” he asks as Y/N unfolds her laptop, nodding. 

“Yeah.” She places the laptop onto his desk and he leans closer, focusing on the screen as Y/N explains what she found unclear, but Harry is still stunned when she is done talking.

“Is it… Is it bad? Not what you thought of?” she asks, seeing his face.

“No, it’s… Y/N, you did this all by yourself?”

“Yes?” Her answer sounds unsure and panic settles in her visibly. “I-I’m sorry if it’s–”

“Y/N, this is brilliant.”

She is taken aback by his compliment, it wasn’t the first time, but it feels like a gift every time for her. 

“It is?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t doubt you could do it, but I didn’t think it would turn out this great and you also finished so fast, I thought it would take you the entire week at least.”

“Well… I did stay in a little longer last night,” she admits with a soft chuckle and it tugs on his chest right away. He looks at her over the desk, their eyes meet and for a second, warmth spreads through his veins as he fights the urge to reach out and touch her. 

Clearing his throat he leans back in his chair.

“Send it over, I’ll leave comments on those sections and then you can start the migration.”

“Thank you,” she nods, taking her laptop and heading to the door.

“And well done, Y/N,” he calls after her. She just nods and smiles at him before walking out. 

Harry watches her return to her desk, takes some deep breaths and forces himself to return to the code on his own computer. 

***

Linda wiggles her eyebrows at Y/N once she is sat at her desk. 

“Did you two eye-fuck again?” she asks and Y/N gapes at her, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard her, but luckily, everyone is too busy.

“Linda! That’s–We don’t do that.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, twirling her pen around between her fingers. 

“We just went over the tables. He said I did a good job.” She shrugs, but Linda doesn’t miss how the corners of her mouth curl up, though she tries to hide it. 

“You do realize you��re the only one in this whole department he has ever complimented, right?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Zach go the best reaction from him last spring, when he spent two weeks refactoring a fucked up code, Harry said it was acceptable. That’s all. The fact that he said you did a good job is just another proof that he is into you.”

“Would you stop talking about the head of IT being into me?” Y/N hisses. “Come on, let’s get a coffee before you start screaming it.”

They go down a floor where the coffee station has better options and once they both have a mug full of coffee, they settle by a high table in the common area. 

“I have a confession to make,” Y/N admits, but avoids looking her in the eyes. “Okay, go for it.”

“I’m meeting Archer today.”

“Y/N! Not your fucking ex! Why?!” Linda gasps. “Do you really hate yourself that much?”

“I don’t hate myself,” she gives her a look, before returning her gaze to her mug. “He texted me the other day.”

“And you texted him back?”

“Well, yes, of course.”

“Boo! You should have blocked his number a long time ago!”

Y/N has thought about that. A lot. Her asshole ex has come back a couple of times since they broke up about a year ago, they shared one or two nights, but it always ended with him disappearing and leaving her shattered. His comebacks slowed down the process of getting over him a lot and though she feels like she is finally okay, she couldn’t just ignore his text.

“That’s not like me,” she shrugs, ignoring the thought that she knows Linda is right. 

“Hun, what do you think will happen today that hasn’t happened before?”

The question stings, right in her chest, because she knows it’s true. Her logical side knows Archer won’t just magically apologize for the way he treated her, even though it’s the only thing she wants from him at this point. To admit that he was in the wrong. 

“We’ll talk. That’s it.”

“Please don’t sleep with him,” Linda sighs desperately. “He doesn’t deserve your time.”

“I won’t,” she says, though she is not entirely certain it’s the truth. 

“Uh-huh, okay.” Linda checks the time on her phone. “I gotta go, I have a meeting in ten.”

“I’m coming too, I have a lot to do.”

Grabbing their mugs they head out of the common area, back to the upper floor. 

***

Harry didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He is the last person to be interested in anyone’s private life in the office. 

But when he heard Y/N’s voice as he was about to walk into the room, he stopped and hid behind the wall, listening to a conversation that was truly not meant for his ears. 

Hearing the two women talk about Y/N’s ex has ignited something new in him, especially when it became clear that he has hurt her in the past. Harry is not one to become violent, he channels all his tendencies in the gym while boxing, but from what he heard of the guy, he would have gladly punched him in the face. A few times.

Maybe more than a few.

The short conversation tickled his curiosity about what happened, but when he heard that they were about to leave, he quickly walked away so they didn’t see him. 

Now as he is back by his desk he can’t focus on the code in front of him at all, his thoughts are only about this mysterious ex Y/N is apparently meeting today. At one point, he even considers giving her some extra work to keep her in late and preferably miss the meeting, but that would be too petty even for him. Instead, he spends the next hour pretending to work while he just keeps fantasizing about different scenarios of what happened between Y/N and the guy. 

Slowly, the office starts to empty out as the end of the day nears. Desks get abandoned, lights are turned off and Harry is still there, since he barely got anything done that day. 

He sees when Y/N packs up her stuff and leaves and his jaw almost breaks as he holds himself still and just watches her walk out. 

“I’m fucking insane,” he mumbles under his breath, willing himself to do some work now that he can’t get distracted by Y/N every time she leaves her desk. 

It’s all new to him. This obsession he’s been feeling since the moment he saw Y/N at the interview. An invisible string has been pulling him towards her and it’s unlike anything he has felt with his exes before. 

He wasn’t obsessed. He didn’t think of them all the time. He didn’t lose focus when he was seeing someone. But with Y/N, he is losing his precious control and it’s almost scary. 

He finally manages to lock in for some work and time flies by. Next time he looks up from his screen the whole office is empty, only his desk lamp giving light and the green haze of the exit signs. It’s past nine and he can hear the cleaner vacuuming somewhere on the floor, so with a tired smile he shuts his computer off, gathers his things and heads out. 

He moved less than a year ago and the place he bought is within walking distance of the office. He knows it might have been a stupid idea to get a place just because it’s close to his working place, he probably won’t work there his whole life, but he doesn’t see himself switching for a long time, so it’s convenient. 

With his backpack hanging off one shoulder he steps out into the warm evening, the afternoon rush is over, now the nearby bars and restaurants are full of workers desperately needing to let some steam off before heading home. 

There’s a small park he walks through before reaching his street and it has always been dear to him, a nice change in the scenery of concrete and glass in the middle of the city. There’s even a small pond along the path that takes him across the park with benches and a handful of ducks are usually circling in the water peacefully. 

Older people from around like to come here and sit or take a short walk and they are the only people Harry likes to watch. He admires their slow pace, no rush, just enjoying what they have, a state he dreams of reaching too. 

Tonight, as he passes by the pond his eyes spot a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches. He stops in his tracks, questioning if his sight is right, because the person sitting there with her head hanging low looks just like Y/N. As he slowly approaches he notices the soft shaking of her shoulders.

She’s crying. 

***

Y/N has been sitting on that bench for… God knows how long. Could have been minutes, could have been hours. She was planning to cry her eyes out at once, then move on by the time she gets home, but apparently, she needs more time to get herself over than she estimated. This spot seemed like a great one, it’s far enough from the lights so people don’t notice she is crying, but she definitely did not expect to be noticed by her boss.

“Y/N?”

Harry’s voice makes her jump and as her head snaps up, she finds herself staring up at the person she least expected to see. His eyebrows are furrowed, concern is written all over his face as he stands a few feet away from the bench, as if he can’t tell if it’s a good idea for him to get closer. 

“Oh, hi!” She quickly forces a smile on her face, but she knows she is fooling no one. She wipes her tear-soaked cheeks with the back of her hand and prays her mascara is not smudged all around her eyes in panda style. “What–What are you doing here?”

“I live nearby, I’m on my way home. What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… I was just taking a walk and now I’m… not.”

Her brain does not function. She knows what she said didn’t make any sense, but she can’t think of something else to say. She is way too busy thinking about how Harry is standing right there just after her ex made her wait for him for an hour before texting her he is not coming and when she called him to confront, a woman answered his phone.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to draw the conclusions: Archer was only trying to hook up with her tonight, but apparently found someone else and ditched her. A classic move from an asshole like him, but that doesn’t make her feel less like shit. Mostly because she should have known better and not believe he would do anything other than hurting her. 

Harry just stands there for a few moments and Y/N is expecting him to walk away and pretend like he didn’t even see her, but he surprises her when he walks over to the bench and sits beside her. 

“Do you want to… talk about what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” she answers right away, but when she looks at him, it’s obvious he doesn’t believe her. With a sigh, she turns her gaze back towards the pond. She is hesitating between keeping it all to herself or just dumping it on Harry and then deal with the consequences later, but right when she is about to make up her mind, he speaks up.

“Is this about… your ex-boyfriend?”

She turns to him with wide eyes. 

“How do you…”

A guilty look takes over his face before he shrugs.

“I heard you talking about him earlier. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“I shouldn’t talk so freely with Linda in the office,” she chuckles, shaking her head. They sit in silence, when Harry peeks at her she seems deep in her thoughts and he is desperate to get her to talk, but doesn’t want to push her too much. 

As a last resort, he says:

“Do you want to have a drink?”

***

The tequila is burning her throat, she can’t help the frown as she bites into the lemon. When she looks at Harry, she is not even surprised he has the same, unbothered look on his face he had after the previous two shots. 

“Uh, how are you taking it so well?” she coughs and then takes a sip from her beer. They were lucky enough to find a table at a bar nearby and she was quick to accept that maybe getting drunk is what she needs right now, even if the alarms are still going off somewhere in the back of her mind, because doing it with Harry might not be her brightest idea. 

“I guess I still have some left of my college years,” he shrugs and she starts laughing. 

“Don’t tell me you were a party animal in college,” she snorts. The three shots and half a beer has definitely set her tongue free and took away her sense of embarrassment after saying everything that’s on her mind. She will surely regret it in the morning, but right now she couldn’t care less.

Harry likes this version of her. She is always bubbly and talkative, but in his presence he often senses her nervousness. Now there’s no trace of that and he is sinking in every moment of it.

“What do you think I was like in college?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, the words slurring a bit on her tongue. “Like a… hot nerd?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her and she realizes only then that she just called him hot. 

“I-I mean… I don’t–What I meant is–”

“I was a nerd,” he says, saving her from her rambling. “I was in the robotics club, spent a lot of time in the library, trying to hack their system so I didn’t have to return some books I wanted to keep.”

She can’t help, but laugh as Harry is smiling at the memory as well.

“Did you succeed?”

“What do you think?”

“For sure.”

“Correct,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “But I went to parties. I had this friend group from highschool, some of them were friends with the popular kids so we were always invited.”

“I can’t picture you with a red solo cup, filled with cheap booze.”

“But it happened,” he chuckles. “Luckily, photos have been deleted from social media.”

“Did you wipe the internet?” she asks, leaning closer as if she was asking him about a secret.

“No, but I did message those who had the photos posted when I was getting higher in my career.”

“Clever,” she nods and grabbing her beer, she takes a few swigs. Then her smile fades. “Maybe I should tell you what happened, right?”

“Only if you want to.”

Sighing she leans back, pursing her lips as she squints her eyes, looking back at him. She can’t think straight. Her thoughts are jumping, one moment she is thinking about Archer, the next all her attention is on how plump his lips look when they are wet from the beer, or the way his top two buttons of his shirt have come undone and she is seeing fucking tattoos, along his collarbones. 

She wants to kiss them. 

“I was stupid enough to think that I matter to him and he wouldn’t… hurt me. But he did. That’s it, lesson learned.”

She would love to look unbothered, like it doesn’t affect her, but she can’t. Her throat is closing up and when Harry calls out her name softly, she looks up at him with tears in her eyes and wobbling lips. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying, I know. I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” Harry shakes his head, but it’s like she didn’t even hear him.

“I know it’s stupid, but I just thought it might be different this time, that he might apologize and I can finally… I don’t know.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s not. You’re allowed to hope, to want to be treated the right way.”

“But I should have learned my lesson before!”

“You could have, but it’s okay. You will now. You’re smart, smarter than you think. You’ll get over it, doesn’t matter how long it takes, you will get there. I know it.”

“How?” she asks in a whisper, unable to break the eye-contact. 

“I don’t know how you’ll do it, but–”

“No,” she shakes her head. “How do you know it?”

He slowly runs his tongue over his lips, thinking his words through before speaking them.

“I just do. Do you believe me?”

Without hesitation she nods.

“I do.”

***

“If someone said one day I would be waiting for an Uber with my boss, drunk out of my ass at two am, I would have laughed them in the face.”

Y/N is holding onto a lamp post with one hand, twirling around it like a little kid as Harry stands by the curb, one hand in his pocket, the other one holding his phone, tracking the Uber that’s supposed to pick Y/N up and take her home. He is watching her with a tiny smile, it’s great to see her so carefree after her breakdown earlier. 

“Which part is so unbelievable?” 

She stops and steps closer to him. She can’t stand still, keeps shifting her weight between her feet and Harry is on alert in case she loses her balance. 

“All of it,” she grins up at him, blinking lazily. “Except the drunk out of my ass. That happens sometimes.”

“Really?” 

“Ooh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Am I in trouble?”

“Because you get drunk sometimes? You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but… you’re my boss,” she giggles, then starts swaying as if she could hear some music. “It’s not professional to get drunk.”

“Not when you’re working. But you’re not at work right now.”

“Nope,” she shakes her head, popping the ‘p’ sound. “I’m on the street, with Harry Styles, after drinking with Harry Styles! And now I’m gonna go home in an Uber that Harry Styles ordered for me!”

“Are you enjoying saying my name?” he chuckles, glancing at his phone again, The car is five minutes away. He is already dreading the moment it arrives, because that means the night ends. But he knows she has to get home and sleep it off.

“I do,” she sings. “It has a nice ring to it. It’s a cool name for a cool guy.”

“Oh, so I’m cool?” He knows he shouldn’t take advantage of her drunken state and keep her talking, but he just can’t get himself to stop.

“Yeah. You’re cool and smart and scary sometimes and mysterious, but not tonight,” she giggles as she keeps swaying around, while Harry can’t take his eyes off her, not when she is talking about him. “People at the office are scared of you, but I think you’re great.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You’re amazing, I always look forward to seeing you. Sometimes I…” She giggles at whatever she is thinking about, completely oblivious at how intently Harry is listening to her. “Sometimes I ask you about things I know just so we can talk.” She shakes her head with a chuckle, but it’s enough for her to lose balance.

She gasps when she starts falling, but he is quick to grab her by her arms, yanking her towards him to keep her from smashing against the concrete. She is not laughing anymore, especially when she realizes that her chest is pressed against his, hands still holding her arms firmly. And his eyes are piercing into her gaze in a way that takes her breath away. 

“I love when you come asking questions,” he admits. “That’s usually my favorite part of the day.”

Her eyes widen at his words and when his gaze shifts down to her lips, they part as she gasps for air. Her chest presses even more against his as she fills her lungs and she feels even more dizzy now than before. 

“I want to kiss you.”

The words blurt out of her before she could think them through, unaware of the effect they have on Harry. His gaze darkens and it moves down at her lips again. But before he could say or do anything, the Uber pulls up beside them. 

Harry lets go of her, then opens the door.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

She blinks at him a few times as he just stands there, waiting for her to get inside. She is confused. Drunk and tired and the longer she stays there the more awkward she feels, so she finally gets into the car, then Harry shuts the door and the car starts moving. 

Y/N turns around and sees him still standing there, hands in his pockets, his head hanging low. Then she slides down in the seat, closes her eyes and then replays those couple of moments when she was pressed up against him over and over again until the car stops at her apartment building. 

***

Sunday evening Y/N contemplates calling in sick. Preferably with something that keeps her away from the office… forever. 

Once she woke in the afternoon of Saturday, sobered up, with a killer headache, memories from last night came crashing down on her and the embarrassment took over instantly. She spent the rest of the weekend in agony, cursing herself out for being so stupid. 

Did she really tell her boss she wanted to kiss him?

Yes, she in fact did. After getting drunk with him, crying about her ex and telling him all kinds of stuff she never planned on admitting to him. Like that she finds him cool and smart and sometimes scary. 

But the kissing part is obviously the worst.

No matter how badly she dreads Monday morning, time doesn’t stop or slows down, the week starts and she has to go to work and face the consequences of her actions. 

Maybe Harry won’t be there. But he is always there. 

Maybe she can hide all day and avoid him… until the rest of her life or until she finds a new job. Very unlikely, but whatever. 

Her palms are sweating as she swipes her card at the gates and heads up to her floor. She’s getting paranoid, thinking that everyone in the elevator knows what happened on Friday, even though no one even bats an eye in her direction. 

Luckily, as she logs into her computer at her desk, work swamps her and provides enough distraction to stop her from throwing up when she sees Harry for the first time.

It seems like he is having a busy day too, he is in and out of meetings for the most part of the noon, she only sees him passing by or sitting in his office with his AirPods in, a sign that he is in an online meeting. But even when he is free for a short time, Y/N makes sure she avoids facing him. She even considers moving to another floor’s common room with her laptop for the day if it means she can survive without running into him and God forbid, talking to him. 

But then comes an email. 

It’s a bit after lunch time when it pops up in her inbox and her stomach drops to the floor right away when she sees it’s from Harry. Then another wave of anxiety washes over her when she reads it.

FROM: Harry Styles

Come to my office at your earliest convenience. -H

“Oh shit,” she mumbles under her breath and it catches Linda’s ears across from her, who gives her a questioning look. “Nothing.” She just shakes her head, grabs her laptop and then heads to Harry’s office with shaking knees. 

Is this the part where he tells her behavior was unacceptable? Did he maybe report her to HR for what she said?

She knocks on the door with a sweaty hand, Harry looks up from his screen with a blank face and nods at her to go inside. 

“Hey. I got your email.” She sounds like a frightened little girl as she closes the door behind her and stills, hugging her laptop to her chest. 

“Thanks for coming right away.”

Harry pushes his chair back lazily, stands and rounds the desk before leaning against it leisurely, his eyes glued to Y/N who is still standing by the door, too scared to go further. He doesn’t like the distance.

“Come, sit,” he nods towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

Obediently, she walks over and takes a seat, blinking up at him with wide eyes while he looks unbothered and almost… bored. He squints his eyes at her, tilting his head to the side a bit before finally speaking up. 

“Is there a specific reason why you’re avoiding me all day?”

Her lips part at his question and her first instinct is to deny.

“I-I’m not–”

“Y/N, you are. Normally, you would have already asked me at least two questions, but instead you walk out of the office every time I step out of mine. You are avoiding me.”

She shuts her mouth, trying to come up with something to say that could save her, but nothing comes to her mind. 

“I’m sorry.” Her gaze drops to the floor, his stare is too intense for her. “I’m so ashamed about… everything I said on Friday, I didn’t know how to face you. I said all that… inappropriate stuff you definitely shouldn’t have heard. like… ever. I’m sorry.”

“Y/N,” he softly says, but her gaze remains on her shoes. “Y/N, look at me, please.”

Finally, she dares to move her eyes back to meet his and then he continues… in the most surprising way.

“What I’m about to say, it’s going to be fully unrelated to work. Can you treat it as something outside of this setting?” Y/N nods. “Use your words, I need to hear you say it. Do you understand that this conversation is outside of work?”

“I understand,” she answers weakly, her mouth running dry. 

“Good.” He nods and then continues. “Do not feel sorry for anything you said. I’m glad I know all of that. The only downside of it is that now I need every ounce of self-control not to bend you over this desk and fuck you until you forget your own name.”

This time her mouth hangs open. For a moment she is not entirely convinced she hasn’t just imagined it all. That it wasn’t just her sick mind playing tricks on her. But then he speaks again.

“Did you hear what I said? That I want to fuck you into oblivion on this desk?”

“Yes,” she breathes out, trembling. 

“Good. Now I want you to go back to your desk and think it through whether you want that too or not. If you decide that you feel the same way, stay late and come back here when everyone is gone. Understood?”

“Yes.”

She feels dizzy, but not the same kind she felt on Friday, this is entirely different. Turning around she walks out of the room, but she’s on auto pilot as she returns to her desk. She leans back in her chair and slowly looks around.

No one in the room knows what just happened. Everyone is just minding their own business while Y/N is on the verge of fainting.

“You alright?” Linda peeks out from behind her screen with a concerned look on her face. “What did he want?”

If only she knew! Y/N thinks. She is dying to share, to take the whole conversation apart and analyze every bit, but she can’t. Instead, she forces a smile to her face.

“Just checked in with me about the migration.”

Linda examines her suspiciously for a second, but then her phone rings and she returns to her work while Y/N opens her laptop as well, but as she stares at the document in front of her she was working on before Harry’s email, she can’t even make out a word. 

Instead, she is busy thinking about what happens when the office empties out. 

***

Harry was dragged into some urgent issue sometime in the afternoon and it gave him enough work to take his attention away from prying outside, impatiently waiting for everyone to leave while making sure Y/N is still there. 

He answers one call after the other while emails keep popping into his inbox and he loses track of Y/N. When he finally drags his gaze away from the screen he looks up and finds the whole floor empty. All of it.

Meaning that Y/N left as well. Groaning he stands from his desk and walks over to the window, staring out into the night that has slowly creeped up on him. He truly thought she would stay. That she felt the same desire and thirst as him and she wants to explore whatever it could be, but maybe he read it all wrong. 

How will this affect their work? He should have thought of that before telling her he wants to fuck her on his desk. Who even does that? He is supposed to be her boss, her mentor, this was so incredibly inappropriate, he is thinking about reporting himself to HR and–

There’s a knock on his door. 

Turning around he freezes when he sees Y/N standing there with doe-like eyes and with just one look she is already making his pulse jump. He nods, barely noticeably, but she sees it and lets herself inside, closing the door behind her even though it’s truly just the two of them now. 

“Hey,” she sheepishly says, stopping exactly where she did earlier when he wrote her that email. This time however, Harry is the one to cross the room and then stop just inches away from her. She wonders if he could hear the wild hammering of her heart in her chest, the dizziness is back and she hides her hands behind her back so he doesn’t notice them shaking. 

“Did you think about what I said?”

Harry talks slowly and clearly and she couldn’t tell just moments ago he was freaking out too. But now that she’s there, every racing thought is gone from his mind, all he is thinking about is… her. 

“Yes.”

“And what’s your conclusion?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” There’s a tiny bit of sassiness in her tone, just enough to start a fire in him. 

She catches the way one corner of his lips curls up as he takes another small step towards her, his hands come up to cup her jaw on either side and he gently tilts her head back, angling it perfectly. Then slowly, he leans closer until his lips are almost touching hers, but then stops. As if he is giving one last chance for her to change her mind, but she is still there, waiting for him to finally break down the wall between them and he gives in. 

He lets his hunger take over instantly. There’s no testing the waters, feeling each other up, he kisses her in a demanding, needy way that takes her breath away at first, but she is quick to react the same way. 

Her hands move to his shirt, grabbing the fabric at his stomach while his hands are still holding onto her face, but then they slide down her sides, settle on the back of her thighs and she knows exactly what he wants her to do. So without breaking them apart, she jumps up, he catches her with ease as she wraps her legs around his waist and he blindly carries her to the small sofa by the wall. 

He sinks into the cushion and she straddles him, giving her a bit of advantage in height this way, so now he is the one to crane his neck while she is leaning down to meet him. 

It’s a mess, lip biting, tongues crashing, soft moans and grunts, his palms wander over his thighs and ass and then he sneakily peels her soft pink shirt out of her tight jeans so his hands can slip under the fabric and feel her heated skin. 

She is desperate to feel more, to ease the aching throbbing between her legs, so when she starts rolling her hips and grinding against his rapidly growing bulge, he can’t help the moan that slips out of his mouth, right into hers. 

His head drops to the back of the sofa and she takes the chance to kiss her way down the column of his neck. After dozens of fantasies doing the same thing during meetings, now she is finally tasting his skin, gently nibbling on a spot that has his hands grab onto her ass, pushing her even more into him. 

When their lips meet again her fingers dance down his chest, feeling up his abdomen through his shirt and then settle on his belt, she starts undoing it, but he is quick to stop her, which breaks her out of her trance., scared that she did something wrong. 

Reading her from just one look, Harry shakes his head softly.

“I know I said I want to bend you over my desk, but I don’t want the first time I’m inside you to be here. So we are gonna do it differently for now.”

As he speaks, his fingers work the buttons of her shirt, one after the other until the white, lacy bra is revealed underneath. 

“Is it fucking Christmas?” he breathes out, hooking a finger into one of the cups and tugging it down so your breast spills out of it. An airy chuckle slips out of her, but it quickly turns into a gasp when he sucks her pebbled nipple into his mouth, even gently biting and tugging on it. Her fingers comb through his hair, his fingertips massaging his scalp as her grinding continues. 

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do,” he murmurs against her chest, one hand freeing her other breast from the bra as well, so he can pay equal attention to them both. “You’re gonna grind that needy cunt of yours against me until you come, just so you can see what it is like when you’re not even undressed and imagine what will happen once I get to unwrap you.” He smacks her ass gently, a moan slipping out through her parted lips. “And I’m gonna leave marks all over tits and suck your nipples until they are so tender you can barely touch them, so when you go home and see yourself in the mirror, you’ll remember every moment of what’s happening right now.”

His hands grab her hips and make her roll them harder, his erection and the seam of her jeans rubbing into her soaking wet cunt. She eagerly takes the pace he dictated, desperate to chase her release that’s building in the pit of her stomach rapidly. 

“Do you like that? Do you like my plan?” he asks, his lips brushing against her nipple, teasing her with his touch just enough to make her whine and ache for more. 

“Yes,” he nods eagerly, hands clasping the back of his head to pull him closer to her chest and feel his lips on her heated skin again and he complies happily. 

“Then let me feel how badly you want to come.”

If someone told Y/N in the morning, that tonight she would be dry humping her boss like a horny teenager, she would have checked that person into a mental hospital. Yet here she is, grinding against Harry’s massive bulge, shamelessly rubbing her cunt against his erection while his mouth is full of her breast. 

He has already left a few marks on her and she knows she’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next 2 weeks, but she couldn’t care less. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” she cries out when she finds just the right angle where the seam of her jeans and the tip of his restrained cock rub her clit perfectly, sending sparks through her nerves. 

“Go on, want to see you come undone.” He bites the side of her left breast and she hisses, but it feels so good, so fucking great she moans loudly, her head falling back at the sensation.

“Harry, I–Ah!”

His hands grab her ass and he pulls her in, making her fall forward, her chest pressing up against his as she buries her face into his neck, fastening her movements as her orgasm is nearing. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let me see you come undone.”

“Wanna feel you inside,” she whines, but keeps moving.

“I know and you will. Just not now.”

She whines again in a disapproving manner, but doesn’t stop and Harry’s hips start moving as well. He encourages her a few more times, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine and right when she thinks she can’t take it anymore, the bubble pops. 

She gasps and moans, her movements get dragged out and Harry forces her to look him in the eyes as she rides out her joy. She loses track of time, can’t tell if it lasts for seconds or hours. But when it’s over she collapses into his arms. 

“You did so good. So fucking good,” he murmurs into her ear, kissing the side of her face wherever he can reach. When she finally catches her breath she sits up straight and looking down she sees that he’s still hard underneath her. 

Instantly, she reaches down, ready to take him out and take care of him, but he stops her again. 

“Not now.”

“But you… didn’t–”

“I know,” he smiles softly. “But if we go further now, I won’t be able to stop and I told you, I want the first time I’m inside you in a different setting.”

She understands and it’s flattering knowing he wouldn’t be able to control himself if they continued, but it feels unbalanced now that only she came. 

“Are you sure?” she asks, hands flattening on his stomach. 

Smiling, he nods. “Very sure.”

She thinks to herself for a bit and reaching up Harry brushes a lock of hair behind her ear as a smile stretches slowly across her face.

“What is it?”

“So… this means there will be a next time?”

The playful glint in her eyes amuses him. She is sitting on his lap, her chest still exposed, lips swollen from his kisses while his erection is still straining against his pants and she asks if there will be a next time. 

“Oh yeah. I will watch you come undone over and over again in every possible way. If you let me.”

She bites into her bottom lip, sheepishly blinking down at him, but her answer surprises him for a moment.

“I’m not letting you.” His face falls and his heart drops into his stomach, but she is quick to continue: “I’m begging you.”

“Oh baby, for that, now I’m adding  spanking to when I’m bending you over my desk and fuck you.”

Her smile only grows wider.

“Please, Boss!”

PART II.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

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

[supernatural-bias]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[commodorez]

Start Me Up: 30 years of Windows 95 - @commodorez and @ms-dos5

Okay, last batch of photos from our exhibit, and I wanted to highlight a few details because so much planning and preparation went into making this the ultimate Windows 95 exhibit. And now you all have to hear about it.

You'll note software boxes from both major versions of Windows 95 RTM (Release To Manufacturing, the original version from August 24, 1995): the standalone version "for PCs without Windows", and the Upgrade version "for users of Windows". We used both versions when setting up the machines you see here to show the variety of install types people performed. My grandpa's original set of install floppies was displayed in a little shadowbox, next to a CD version, and a TI 486DX2-66 microprocessor emblazoned with "Designed for Microsoft Windows 95".

The machines on display, from left to right include:

Chicago Beta 73g on a custom Pentium 1 baby AT tower

Windows 95 RTM on an AST Bravo LC 4/66d desktop

Windows 95 RTM on a (broken) Compaq LTE Elite 4/75cx laptop

Windows 95 OSR 1 on an Intertel Pentium 1 tower

Windows 95 OSR 1 on a VTEL Pentium 1 desktop

Windows 95 OSR 2 on a Toshiba Satellite T1960CT laptop

Windows 95 OSR 2 on a Toshiba Libretto 70CT subnotebook

Windows 95 OSR 2 on an IBM Thinkpad 760E laptop

Windows 95 OSR 2.5 on a custom Pentium II tower (Vega)

That's alot of machines that had to be prepared for the exhibit, so for all of them to work (minus the Compaq) was a relief. Something about the trip to NJ rendered the Compaq unstable, and it refused to boot consistently. I have no idea what happened because it failed in like 5 different steps of the process.

The SMC TigerHub TP6 nestled between the Intertel and VTEL served as the network backbone for the exhibit, allowing 6 machines to be connected over twisted pair with all the multicolored network cables. However, problems with PCMCIA drivers on the Thinkpad, and the Compaq being on the blink meant only 5 machines were networked. Vega was sporting a CanoScan FS2710 film scanner connected via SCSI, which I demonstrated like 9 times over the course of the weekend -- including to LGR!

Game controllers were attached to computers where possible, and everything with a sound card had a set of era-appropriate speakers. We even picked out a slew of mid-90s mouse pads, some of which were specifically Windows 95 themed. We had Zip disks, floppy disks, CDs full of software, and basically no extra room on the tables. Almost every machine had a different screensaver, desktop wallpaper, sound scheme, and UI theme, showing just how much was user customizable.

@ms-dos5 made a point to have a variety of versions of Microsoft Office products on the machines present, meaning we had everything from stand-alone copies of Word 95 and Excel 95, thru complete MS Office 95 packages (standard & professional), MS Office 97 (standard & professional), Publisher, Frontpage, & Encarta.

We brought a bunch of important books about 95 too:

The Windows Interface Guidelines for Software Design

Microsoft Windows 95 Resource Kit

Hardware Design Guide for Windows 95

Inside Windows 95 by Adrian King

Just off to the right, stacked on top of some boxes was an Epson LX-300+II dot matrix printer, which we used to create all of the decorative banners, and the computer description cards next to each machine. Fun fact -- those were designed to mimic the format and style of 95's printer test page! We also printed off drawings for a number of visitors, and ended up having more paper jams with the tractor feed mechanism than we had Blue Screen of Death instances.

In fact, we only had 3 BSOD's total, all weekend, one of which was expected, and another was intentional on the part of an attendee.

We also had one guy install some shovelware/garbageware on the AST, which caused all sorts of errors, that was funny!

Thanks for coming along on this ride, both @ms-dos5 and I appreciate everyone taking the time to enjoy our exhibit.

It's now safe to turn off your computer.

VCF East XX

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆

𝟭. high quality sleep ( 💤 )

never put your sleep on the back burner, 8 hours are not even enough, the younger you are the more you need sleep, especially if you are a woman. adult women generally need to sleep 9/10 hours a night, obviously the amount of sleep needed for rest depends from person to person, but always try to have a good, consistent sleep at night. if you ever think about sacrificing your sleep to study and/or procrastinate, know that you're only hurting yourself in the long run. without adequate rest, you will not be able to function properly and perform at your best the next day.

𝟮. eat nutritious meals ( 🍜 )

when was the last time you ate a nutritious, warm, homemade meal, honey? you should eat at least (AT LEAST) 3 times a day a real, cooked, warm meal that provide you with the proteins, fats and sugars your body needs to function normally. throw away packaged and over-processed snacks, they don't meet your energy needs and are simply full of empty calories that will make you feel sick and don't help your beautiful brain to function. eat lots of protein, which helps you build the muscle mass that keeps you healthy (i'll post about that) and healthy fats which keep your beautiful brain working – the brain is mostly made up of fats so don't be afraid of them! the important thing is to eat healthy fats that are good for our body.

𝟯. less is more ( 🧩 )

do less to achieve more. if you've ever made an absolutely unrealistic to-do list, raise your hand. overwhelmed by a thousand things to do we will never be able to make consistent progress in an area that interests us. it is not possible to do everything all the time and do it well, inevitably our energy runs out, our level of attention drops and we end up doing a little bit of everything badly. not all tasks can have priority, choose what to focus on and stick with it.

𝟰. be gentle with yourself ( 🌾 )

you're really giving it your all, why be so hard on yourself? the things you have done, the goals you have achieved, you should be proud of yourself and smile about it. demanding too much from your body will not lead to anything except burnout, remember that you are a person and not a machine, that you are not made to make every single hour of your day productive, and that it is okay to rest, because only thanks to rest you can face your day with the necessary energy.

[verstappentime]

@sunsetmog & i have gone deep into the sugar baby daniel rabbit hole so here's max trying to upgrade dan to full time sugar baby. it helped me feel better on my dreadful monday so y'all should have it as well <33 (read hers first)

Max is already out of bed when Daniel gets up. He's exhausted and heavy and sore. He feels like he could sleep another eight hours. Max would let him. But he has to go back to work tomorrow and he's not going to see Max for weeks and weeks after that. He's not in bed and Daniel misses him already, right now.

He wanders out into the kitchen. Max is perched at the breakfast bar, eating cereal and watching something on his phone, which is propped up on a book. Daniel keeps telling him to just put a TV in here, so he can stop sitting hunched over like a gremlin, but Max is hard to make do things if they're not for other people.

"Hey," he says, and watches Max's features soften when he looks up.

Max struggles getting off his barstool, all stuck to it, in a rush to see him after probably, like, an hour. They're so embarrassing. He's so in love it hurts.

"Baby," Max says, sounding wounded. He touches Daniel's cheek, frowning like something's not where he left it. "You look so tired."

"That's alright." Daniel likes that Max notices him. He just– doesn't like that look on his face. "Am I still pretty, then?"

"Don't be stupid. You are of course very gorgeous and handsome." Max is still scrutinizing him. "But you are here all weekend and still tired."

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of in a deficit. I'm just. Gonna." Daniel brushes his hand off, not harshly, stepping around Max to pick out a mug and go for a latte.

He likes this new espresso machine. He's seen on the package delivery app from his apartment complex that Max got him one for his place – he's going to pretend to be surprised when he gets back.

Max is still hovering. Daniel lets him chew on whatever's bothering him. He rummages for sugar and debates between the four kinds of non-dairy milk Max got for him without turning to look.

"Are you alright?" Max asks, finally, as he's pouring milk into the frother.

"We established that I'm tired, Max. It's okay. Maybe I'll nap later."

Max wraps both arms around him from behind, forehead against the back of his neck. "I think maybe it's not going away," he says.

He can't cry, but he wants to. Max has never been with him during a bad spell. But he'd warned him. I won't want to do anything. I might need you to be a bit mean to get me to eat or shower. I'll be tired but sleep won't fix it.

"I'm just working too much." It sounds stupid.

Max says what Daniel's thinking. "It can be both." He pulls away. It doesn't sound like he's going to push it. "Can you show me how to do the coffee? So I can do it for you."

He breathes out. "Yeah, okay."

&&&

Max is skipping his training routine, and he doesn't say why.

He stays in with Daniel on the couch, and they watch It's Always Sunny, which Daniel can't believe Max has never seen and makes him nearly choke on his Red Bull.

It's good. He feels a little better after his coffee. They're good.

Max has been tracing loops on his thigh for awhile. He thinks one was a love heart. It means Max is thinking.

Dennis is about to tell the gang he's leaving, and it's important, but Max pauses the TV. He says, "Don't go back to work tomorrow."

"What?" He's out of PTO. Max knows that. They've gone over it ten times. "You know I can't–"

"Don't go back. Tomorrow or– don't go back. You don't have to. You don't have to worry about money. This is stupid." Max squeezes Daniel's thigh, urgent, which is about the only thing keeping his head from spinning off. "This is going to make you unwell and I don't want– there is no point when I can take care of it."

[indiabizzness]

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[euqsia]

Night Shift (mini-series)

PART ONE (2.1k)

pairing - bobby campbell x fem! reader

summary — you’ve worked at the skyview drive-in theatre every summer for 3 years, next thing you know, you’re training the new kid.

warnings - strong language, sexual themes, angst (if you squint) eventual smut if I’m feeling generous muahaha.

a/n — I freaking love Bobby dude. thought I’d write for him considering the lack of fics out there. Anyways I hope you enjoy this short series and my first (public) fic yay!!

Next chapter… chapter two

The New kid

Your elbow digs into the edge of the concession counter, chin tilted just enough to catch the greasy gleam of the popcorn machine. The kernels burst one by one behind the smudged glass, popping like little firecrackers — the only real excitement in this place.

A speaker hangs from the corner, playing pop hits from over a decade ago. You catch yourself humming along to Get Lucky, which is of course, an absolute classic.

DING DING DING.

You flinch.

Your head snaps toward the bell, eyes narrowing as a kid—maybe eleven—definitely annoying, slaps the silver button like it owes him money.

You drag out a sigh. “May I help you?”

“Gimme Twizzlers,” he huffs, as if stringing the words together physically pained him.

Your Chuck Taylors squeak against the soda-sticky floor as you shuffle over to the candy display. The lights buzz overhead, the kind of fluorescent hum that soaks into your bones if you stand under it too long.

You slide open the plastic door— place isn’t fancy enough for glass—and fish out the Twizzlers, stiff through the packaging. Shit’s probably a decade old you think to yourself.

“Five-fifty.”

The kid’s eyebrows furrow. “Wha—ripoff!” His jaw slack with disbelief.

You shrug, unbothered. “You can thank Reagan for that. Call that trickle-down.”

He blinks. “Well she’s a jerk.”

You don’t even look up. “No, the pres—”

“Hey!”

A voice cuts through the stale air like a buzzsaw. Greg, your dingy manager, is leaning halfway out the projection booth, hollering at you like always.

“The new kid’s here. Need you to show him the ropes.”

You straighten, slow. The words settle over your shoulders like a weight. The new kid.

You shoot the kid a glance. He’s already halfway through the Twizzlers, muttering something about capitalism under his breath. Fair enough.

Behind you, the door swishes— the sound smooth yet sudden. You turn toward it, and there he is.

Tall. Quiet. Hands in his pockets. Not quite in uniform—but hey, he’s new.

His eyes make you pause without knowing why.

The door creaks shut behind him, the following silence masked by the whir of the half working slushie machine. You stand still, one hand still resting against the display case, the other curled around empty air like it might hold onto something important if it tries hard enough.

He doesn’t look around right away, just lets his eyes trace the dusty corners of the lobby like he’s taking mental notes. Not in a hurry, not exactly slow either. Just… deliberate.

He’s standing just inside the door, shifting his weight like the floor might give out underneath him. Hands stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His short blonde hair is neatly cut but clearly fussed with, like he’d been running his hands through it nervously on the way here.

His name tag’s clipped on crooked, someone must’ve shoved it into his hand at the door.

Bobby.

You can already tell he’s trying not to make eye contact.

He looks like the kind of guy who was probably a star athlete at some point. Or still is. Football, maybe. But he’s not confident about it — not like the loud ones. He’s… quiet. Restless. Like he’s used to people expecting something from him that he never quite figured out how to give.

You don’t mean to stare, but something about him just—sticks. In a low-flicker kind of way. Like background noise you start to miss when it’s gone.

He clears his throat. “Uh—hi. I’m—uh, Bobby. First day.”

You nod slowly, peeling yourself off the counter like you weren’t just watching him.

“Right. I assume you’ve already met Greg.” You try to keep your tone neutral. Friendly, but not too friendly. “Welcome to Skyview drive-in.” You wave your hands with faux enthusiasm.

That earns a crooked, nervous smile. “Cool.”

He looks around at the dim lobby like he’s unsure where to stand or what to do with his hands. Like he’s a little too big for the room, and a little too aware of it.

Your fingers twitch toward your apron. Right. You’re supposed to show him around. That’s your job. That’s what you do when a stranger walks in with soft eyes and a stare that feels heavier than it should.

“Alright,” you say, pushing off the counter. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

Bobby glances around the empty lobby, the kid long gone, the popcorn still spinning in its fluorescent coffin. His lips twitch — almost a smile. “Could be worse, could’ve been…Greg.”

You toss him a spare apron from under the counter. “Well, come on Bobby. Let’s go teach you how to make popcorn that tastes like sadness.”

He catches it— just barely—and gives a quiet laugh. It’s small, but real.

You lead him behind the counter, the hum of ancient machines and the faint smell of burnt sugar thick in the air.

“Alright,” you say, tossing him a paper hat. “This is the register. This—” you kick the popcorn machine lightly, “—is temperamental. Kind of like Greg. Don’t touch either unless you want a breakdown.”

Bobby gives a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. His arms are too long for this space. Every time he moves, he nearly elbows a stack of napkins or knocks over a cup.

“Cool, cool…” he mutters. “Uh—so, do I, like… scoop it? Or push buttons?”

You squint at him. “Did you think it just popped itself into bags?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, man. I just watch the movies.”

You smirk, and for a second, he seems proud of that. Like he made you laugh on purpose.

You show him how to hold the scoop just right, how to get the butter lever to work without drenching the bag, how to smile at customers without looking like you’re begging them to leave.

And he tries. He really does.

But by the third customer, he’s already botched an order — gave someone Milk Duds instead of Junior Mints and then apologized three times in a row, and let’s not get started on the slushie machine malfunction from earlier.

“I swear I’m not usually this bad,” he mutters, handing you a crumpled receipt.

“Relax,” you say, trying not to laugh. “You’re only mildly terrible. It’s charming.”

He looks up at you, startled by the compliment, or maybe just unused to being called anything at all.

Something passes between you then. Just a flicker. A still moment in the blur of fluorescent lights and greasy counters.

You look away first.

Later that night…

The lot’s almost empty. Just a few stragglers parked in the back row, headlights off, movie flickering dim on the screen in the distance. You sit on the curb out behind the building, legs stretched out, uniform apron balled up beside you.

Bobby drops down next to you with a sigh, arms resting on his knees. His shoulder brushes yours for a second, just barely—and he stiffens like he wasn’t expecting the contact.

He doesn’t pull away though.

You glance at him sideways, mouth tilting into a tired smile. “So. First night on the job. How you liking it so far?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, pushing a hand through his short blonde hair — it’s messed up in the same spots he kept running his fingers through all night.

“Honestly?” he says, squinting toward the screen. “I think I broke a record for most awkward employee alive.”

You nudge his knee gently with yours. “You weren’t that bad.”

“You think so?”

You shrug. “Considering it wasn’t your first and last day, I’d say so.”

He smiles — small, crooked, a little embarrassed. “Guess I owe you for not quitting on me halfway through.”

“Guess you do.”

There’s a pause, the kind that feels soft instead of empty. His eyes flick to you instead of the screen this time, like he’s watching something steadier. Something that doesn’t fade in the dark.

Then, without a word, he digs into his hoodie pocket. A quiet rattle of cardboard and foil. He pulls out a small box of candy — the kind you’re supposed to share during the movie but forget about until the credits roll.

He opens it and tilts it toward you in offering.

You glance down, quirking your cheek. “I’m okay thanks. Not a huge fan of peanuts.”

There’s a beat.

He stares at the box.

Then stares a little harder.

“…these have peanuts in them?”

You blink at him. “It says it right there on the box.”

He stares another second, then plants his palm across his face with a groan. “Oh my god, I’m such a dunce! I’m literally allergic.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait—you didn’t eat any, did you?!”

“No! No—thank god, no. I was just… gonna offer you one first. You know…to be nice.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “You almost gave yourself fucking anaphylaxis to impress me?”

He groans again. “Kill me now.”

You grin, nudging his side gently with your elbow. “No it’s... kinda sweet. In a life-threatening, medically concerning sort of way.”

He looks at you through the fingers still covering his face, then slowly peeks through them, like he’s checking to see if you’re teasing or if you actually mean it.

And when you smile again, it’s softer this time, more real, and he doesn’t look away.

The candy box sits between you now, opened and forgotten. A small, ridiculous symbol of whatever just passed between you.

The sky’s dark enough that the stars have started bleeding through the black. The movie’s credits roll in the distance, white text sliding silently across a sea of blue light. It paints Bobby’s face in soft, fleeting flickers.

He exhales, nudging the gravel beneath his sneakers.

“You know,” he says after a while, voice low like it might spook the quiet, “I didn’t think I’d actually like this job.”

You glance at him. “And now?”

He shrugs, looking anywhere but at you. “Still smells like feet and fake butter, but… not the worst night I’ve ever had.”

A slow smile tugs at your mouth. “High praise.”

He bumps his shoulder into yours again. This time, it’s intentional. Gentle. A little braver than before.

The moment hangs between you, delicate and open. You don’t move away either.

Eventually, the two of you wander back inside, one last sweep before close. The space is hollow now, buzzing quietly like it’s exhaling too. You trail behind him, watching as he struggles to fit the broom back in the supply closet without knocking over every mop in existence.

“Need help?” you call.

“No, no, I got it,” he says — just before the dustpan clatters to the floor.

You stifle a laugh and walk over, crouching down to help him. Your hands reach out at the same time. His fingers brush yours — quick, but warm. And for a split second, neither of you moves.

You look up. He’s already looking at you.

The air shifts. Not loud or dramatic— just noticeable. A flutter beneath your ribs. He blinks, then quickly pulls his hand back, muttering something like “sorry,” though it’s barely audible.

You finish cleaning together in a kind of half-silence, half-smile rhythm. When the lights go out and the doors are locked, you both linger just a second too long outside the lobby.

“Walk you to your car?” he offers, voice soft.

You nod, bitting your cheek.

Outside, the gravel crunches beneath your feet as you walk toward your car. The moon’s up now, silver and quiet. Your breath fogs a little in the air. You’re not sure if it’s the cold or something else that makes you hyper-aware of the space between your arms.

“Hey,” he says when you reach your car. You turn.

He’s rubbing the back of his neck again, eyes on the ground. “I, uh… had a good time. Tonight. Even if I almost… y’know, died.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah me too. Minus the almost death part.”

He meets your eyes for a second — just a second — and then you see it, that flicker again. That quiet, nervous something that might grow if you let it. “Night, Bobby.” you say, pulling your keys out.

“Night,” he echoes. “Hey — don’t forget to live.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

He cringes, his hand finding his neck once more. “That—that sounded cooler in my head.”

You shake your head, laughing as you open your door. He starts walking backwards, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. And just before he disappears around the corner, you hear him mutter,

“…God, I’m such a dork.”

You smile into the steering wheel for longer than you mean to, before setting the shift into drive.

a/n Tell me what you guys think!! let me know any suggestions you may have for future chapters or other fics you’d like to see ;)

[phoenixyfriend]

Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes

It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.

At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*

Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)

So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.

Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.

Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.

Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.

Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)

@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):

Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????

Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.

I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.

Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)

The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the original timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)

Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized

Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.

They point out that he is Baby.

😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.

Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.

At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.

(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)

It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments

Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.

!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]

The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...

He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)

Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.

Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.

the indignity

You just. You can't let him get too self-important.

Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.

The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.

Also Maul's there.

Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!

Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.

You know, the classic anime head bite

Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things

tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit

Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.

They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊

They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.

Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).

Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)

I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there

Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation

Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension

* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Echoes from the past

Hero barged in the little hostel room, brandishing a newspaper and grinning from one ear to another:

“Did you see?” they excitedly asked. “Have you heard? It worked!”

The old Superhero, quietly sit in an armchair that had seen better days, smiled in return and said nothing back.

“The plan worked,” insisted Hero.

In a few steps, they went in front of them, putting the newspaper under their nose:

“You’ve been redeemed!”

The other looked at the papers and took a little sip from their cup:

“That’s good. Do you want some cocoa? I make very good cocoa.”

Hero waved away the invitation:

“Later. Don't you want to hear what the citizens say?”

“Oh, if I must.”

“Of course,” huffed Hero, a little annoyed by the lack of enthusiasm.

They threw the newspaper on the table, pacing the room instead of sitting down, waving their hands as they were talking:

“It was hard work, you know. Everyone thought you murdered not only Supervillain, but half the town with it.”

“I know. I was there.”

“However” - Hero puffed out their chest – “thanks to your indications, a very clever person that I shall not name – it's me, myself, I did it - investigated and realized that the machine that blew the city up could only have been triggered by Supervillain. Mad Scientist confirmed it.”

“Oh, they’re still alive?” asked Superhero, this time mildly intrigued.

“Yes, and they're doing fine, let me tell you. They still like to inflict pain, so they work on easy-open packaging these days. Quite a lucrative business, I’ve heard.”

“I see.”

“If you think really hard about it, it beats exploding people to bits. ”

Superhero reported their interest on their cup:

“What about Supervillain?”

Hero opened their big, innocent eyes wide. It suited them fine.

“What about them? Well, they're still liquid, as far as I know. They're not going to come back from that explosion. I guess they wanted to go while destroying their rival for good. They couldn't kill you, but they could kill your reputation, something like that.”

“I'm out of cocoa. Are you sure you don't want some?”

“Oh, all right.”

Superhero stood up and poured the promised drink. Hero took a little sip, thought for a while, then took one more. It was so peaceful in this little impersonal room, with the curtains half-drawn. It looked nice, but for them, it also looked, well – kind of boring.

“Don't you miss it?” they asked.

“The work?”

“What is there to miss?”

Hero waved:

“The action! The fights! The adrenaline! People looking at you with shining eyes!”

Superhero turned the faucet and washed the saucepan. That was important. It had to be done right away so they wouldn't spend hours scrubbing away the melted cocoa. Turning their back to Hero who was practically vibrating with impatience, they answered:

“All of that gets old, and so do you. My joints are not what they were anymore. At the end of the fight, there's another one as a reward. About the people, well – you saw how easily they turned against me. Not that they matter much. The ones you meet the most are your foes, and either you keep hating them, either things get... complicated.”

“Not with that Supervillain,” said Hero with disgust. “They were really the worst of them.”

“Yes,” agreed the older one, “they were.”

“It must have been horrible to fight a shapeshifter. Never being able to trust anyone, always being scared of them being around...”

Hero shivered.

“I'm glad no villains that I know have that power. When we fight, we fight, and then it's done. You don't have to be on the watch all the time. Thank you for getting rid of them. I mean it. You deserve all the gratefulness in the world.”

Superhero had a small smile.

“Thank you,” they said. “I guess I did that. All I want now is peace, a roof on my own, and enough for a cocoa cup from time to time.”

Hero's phone rang. They checked it and frowned.

“Oh, I gotta go. You know-”

“Yes, I know how it is. Good luck.”

The door closed. All of what was left of their guest was the newspaper they'd forgotten. On the first page, there was a photo of a younger Superhero. They were smiling shyly at the world, just under the word “redeemed”.

The room owner sighed, frowning, and stretched with a yawn. Their features melted. Their silhouette became much thinner. With age, it was getting harder to keep in shape – any shape that wasn’t theirs. Supervillain glared one last time at their dead nemesis:

“What?” they asked sourly. “That I could do for you.”

*

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[yellowjacketsfashion]

While there are lots of options as to where you can buy a replica of the Yellowjackets Letterman Jacket, they’re not always easily attainable. Last year for halloween I made my own letterman and I figured others could find my process helpful. (The supplies I used were things I already had or were accessible to me but there are other ways to create the same thing. If you have different materials that also work feel free to make suggestions or use them in your process).

HOW TO MAKE A YELLOWJACKETS LETTERMAN JACKET:

Supplies:

• Gold/Navy Letterman jacket

• Printer

• White Printer paper

• Gold Felt

•Chalk

• Heat ‘n Bond

• Embroidery floss in the colors White, Black, Gold and Gray (I ended up needing two packs of white).

• Embroidery needle

• White (or light colored) tissue paper

• White fabric (I used cotton)

• Embroidery hoop

• (Optional) White and Black thread

• Glue stick

Step 1: Aquire your jacket.

You can do a lot of different things for the plain base jacket. I bought mine off Amazon but if wanted too you could probably sew one or buy one second hand etc. The only specification is that it’s Gold and Navy. It is important to do this first because everything else builds off of this step.

Step 2: Print out designs.

Use the photos I provided below and paste them into a word document. From there you can size them up or down to reach the size that you like for printing. The “Yellowjackets” logo is for the back of the jacket so when I did it I kind of split the photo in half and put it on two different pages. In the end it turned out to be just shy of 13 inches length wise. The round patch goes on the front and mine was 4.25 inches in diameter.

Depending on the size of your jacket your patches can be bigger or smaller, but once your happy with the sizing you can then move onto the next step.

Step 3: Gather supplies.

The gold felt is to be used to create the back patch. Because of the size of mine I was able to get a little 50 cent sheet of it (I was able to place the logo at an angle to fit it) but because the patch sizes will be different it’s important to bring your print out of the logo when shopping to make sure you have enough. Most craft / fabric stores should have this in stock. It’s also a good idea to bring your letterman jacket with you to try to color match the shades of gold/yellow as best as possible.

The embroidery hoop, floss, white fabric, and thread are for the front patch as I hand embroidered mine but in theory you could use an embroidery machine or printable fabric sheets to create your patch. If you use these other methods you’ll need different supplies and different instructions that I can’t give.

The Heat ‘n Bond is to iron the patches onto your jacket so they stick (though I’ve had to re iron my back patch because the fibers of the wool make it hard to stick to). It will essentially act as double sided tape.

Step 4: Creating & attaching the back patch

• Cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the area where your logo will go.

(i am using colored paper in the example pictures. Yellow represents the felt. White represents the heat and Bond).

• Once you have the right sized piece of Heat n’ Bond, iron it onto the back of your piece of Gold felt (make sure to follow the instructions on the Heat n’ bond packaging).

•Use your printed template of the logo and cut out the words on the felt. You can cut out the logo on paper first and trace it or attach the paper to the felt and just cut them both at the same time. (I moved the dot on the J down so that it’s still attached just to make it easier but you can do whatever you want).

• Put on your Letterman and use the chalk to mark where on the back you want the patch to go. For this step it can be helpful to have someone else assist you (though it’s possible to do it yourself).

• Take off the jacket and lay it flat to align the patch up with your chalk markings. Once it is where you want it you can Iron it onto the back of the jacket (according to the instructions on the Heat n’ Bond).

You now have a finished back patch!

Step 5: Creating the front patch.

• Trace the design of the front patch onto tissue paper (I would suggest a dark pen or sharpie so you can see it really well). If you have trouble seeing the design underneath it can be helpful to hold it to a window pane when it’s sunny or another light source. The photo of the logo I included has a white border around the black words but the patch in the show doesn’t have it so I just ignored it. From there you glue the traced tissue paper onto the fabric.

• Cut out a piece of white fabric big enough for your embroidery hoop and glue the tissue paper sketch onto the fabric.

• Put the fabric/tissue paper into the Embroidery hoop.

• Thread the needle and start embroidering the design. I found it good to use different techniques on different areas of the patch (long white stitches on the wings versus short ones on the background etc. I also thought it was helpful to embroider in color groupings (so like white all at once or yellow all at once etc. so you don’t have to switch out the floss that much). Save the white outer circle and black outline for last though to help clean everything up. The white and black sewing thread can be used to outline smaller details or neaten up some of the floss.

• Once the patch is done cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the back of the patch.

• Put on your jacket and mark with chalk where you want to put the patch. In the show it’s placed by the second from the top button. (See Jackie reference photo at the top of the post).

• Iron on the Heat n’ Bond to the back of the patch (following packet instructions).

• Iron the Patch to the jacket based on your chalk markings.

• You have completed the front patch!

Above are some photo examples of my jacket (please ignore my messy hair in the left picture, being in the snow got it ruffled up).

Sorry for the long post but I think I got everything covered. I hope you guys found this helpful but if you have any questions about the jacket, my process, or anything else feel free to ask!

[the-knife-consumer]

I would love to hear more about Tenn! She seems so fun :)

YAAYY.

Invader tenn and the cancelled episode that torments me badly.

Okay so she ^^ this thang right here- makes me crazy crazy stupid crazy and it physically hurts that there's so little about her. She has a couple of cameos but her only big speaking role she has is in Megadoomer, so all of my ideas and characterization for her come from there...

Her only big appearances are when she calls the tallests twice, begging for help after she was sent a shipment of defective sir units on accident which destroyed her base and (presumably) ruined her mission. As seen heeeere

The shipment she was SUPPOSED to receive is what helps me with a lot of her characterization, as it implies some pretty interesting stuff. She was supposed to receive one of the Megadoomer stealth mechs.

Another thing being that the tallests (well, Red anyway) actually bothered to remember her name when they usually don't care about anything. Saying that this giant combat machine was specifically intended for her mission.

This makes me believe two things.

1) for specialized equipment that has been screened by the tallest to be sent to her, meekrob must be fairly dangerous

2) for the characters who's whole shtick is not giving a shit about anything to know her by name, she must be very successful/in high ranking among invaders

So we know she is (implied to be) very skilled. This is also where I get the idea of her being perpetually nervous during the whole "earth exile era" I'm putting her through.

If she is high ranking enough to not only be an invader, which is a highly celebrated class among Irkens (being referred to as "superior ones" who were chosen by the tallest and such), but also be assigned a dangerous planet and get sent cutting edge technology, then it's safe to assume her mission in particular was very important and news of her failure would absolutely reach the empire.

Control brains dish out heavy punishment even when the circumstances of failure are not the Irken's fault

(as seen in Tak's episode: a brain assigns her to 70 years of janitorial service on planet dirt because she was trapped in a collapsed area and couldn't make it to the invader exam. 70 years janitorial service for missing a test. A test. If 70 years of exile to a literal dirt ball is the punishment for missing an exam, It's a pretty safe bet that failing a mission could result in execution.)

So my version of Tenn is constantly on edge. Yes, she was sent the wrong package. And yes, the tallest saw that she got the wrong package, and know that the mission's failure was out of her control. But do the control brains care about that? Most likely not. Failure is failure, and attempting to return to Irk would, best case scenario: result in being exiled or becoming a service drone- or worst case and most likely scenario: undergoing existence evaluation and subsequent death

Unfortunately that's about where any relevant appearances of her end. Her only lines are literally just her screaming for help. Does not fare well for her.

HOWEVER☝️☝️☝️☝️

And tenn would've been present! That means she survived! Whether she kept the gaggle of defective sir units and would've been competing with them, or if she had a non defective sir unit she would use idk... Really makes me think... Yk for an episode with no script whatsoever Top of the Line is really tormenting me. I need to know. Tak and Skoodge would've also been present... My empire of dirt...

There is a cancelled episode: Top of the Line. Next to nothing is known about it because of a lack of script. But what we do know is that the episode would've been about a sir unit competition.

As for my "source" about her being ddr champion:

Woaw.. she canonically played a ddr knockoff.. woew........ (Said with all the awe as if I were seeing the sunlight for the first time after a lifetime underground)

[yyokkki]

Dire Crowley

The mayor of NRV! 

He’s always giving you quests to complete while you’re at NRV claiming he’s too busy to get it done himself but his daily schedule consists of just walking around town doing daily ‘check ups’ on the businesses.

Dubs you a beast master after you gain three hearts with more than two villagers. He says nobody is able to acclimate themselves with the townsfolk so quickly!

He may or may not have been scared off by the scarecrows in your farm once or twice.

Is a total suck up to Governor Ambrose the 63rd but shit talks him behind his back. He plans to overthrow him one day but it’s not looking bright…

Absolutely hates the city and the new Royal Sword Mart that opened in town.

You basically get tasks weekly from him. Don’t worry the rewards are generous as he is a very gracious man~

Loved Gifts: Any Gems, Glass Shards, Gold, Meat, Universal Loves

“How generous of you, farmer! It seems my graciousness has rubbed off on you~”

Hated Gifts: Royal Sword Cola, Any Spicy Foods, Hot Pepper, Universal Hates

“Boohoo! Despite all my generosity and graciousness! How could you give me something so vile!!"

Divus Crewel

The local scientist! I’m not going into his specific field but he does a lot of experiments on the geography and ecosystems of the valley.

He also seems well versed in Chemistry as he regularly supervises Trey and Rook as they do their experiments too. (He’s afraid the pups are gonna injure themselves)

He owns a cool classic car that doesn’t work anymore after years of not travelling out of NRV. He grieves about it a lot.(The junimos fix it and he chaperones you over to the desert!)

His hobby is fashion design and he has a room in his house fully decked out with sewing machines, mannequins and the like.

He keeps a very good dalmatian named Spot at home. He is the most spoiled boy in town.

Occasionally visits the library to play chess with Trein but it usually ends with some kind of argument…

He’s the one who offers to set up a fruit bat/mushroom cave for you! (He may or may not have inspired Jade)

Loved Gifts: Raisin Butter, Wine, Cloth, Dye Materials, Universal Loves

“Good pup! This is a great gift.”

For Cloth and Dye Materials: “Might as well make you something with this… Especially considering your current attire.”

Hated Gifts: Universal Hates

“Bad pup! What is the meaning of this?!”

Mozus Trein

The librarian and teacher!

He holds classes for the kids twice a week but when he’s not a teacher he looks over the library with his cat, Lucius, whom the kids (and Idia) absolutely adore!

He’s quite strict with the manners and knowledge of the young people in town so it’s always a shock to see him so patient and gentle with the kids.

He has grown daughters who are currently working in the city! He regularly pens letters to them and sends over care packages. They come to visit him often too!

He finds it absolutely unacceptable how barren the library in town is and finds lost books more important than artifacts, though he thinks they’re a valuable educational tool as well.

Loved Gifts: Duck Feather, Vichyssoise, Tuna, Leek, Universal Loves

“This is a good gift, farmer. Thank you.”

For Duck Feather and Tuna: “Lucius will enjoy this, I thank you on his behalf.”

Hated Gifts: Universal Hates

“Ugh. How distasteful.”

Ashton Vargas

The town blacksmith!

Honestly? Might’ve become a blacksmith so he could work his arms out… He’s off every Thursday for leg day!

He encourages everyone in town to work out more! Certain townsfolk avoid him because of this.

Approves of you since farming requires a lot of physical labour! Actually offers to help you out with heavy lifting too.

He lives off of the forests too, he hunts and grows his own harvests! 

He has a few chickens too for sustainable egg supply.

Probably one of the nicest villagers if you ignore his gloating!

Loved Gifts: All Eggs, Beer, Universal Loves

“Thanks! Why don’t you drop by later for some weight training? I’ll tell you all of my tips!”

Hated Gifts: Universal Hates

“I hate this stuff!”

Sam

Owner of the general store!

Not much is known about him but he has lots of friends on the other side! (They’re the travelling cart merchants cooperating with him to sell out of season products)

He sells absolutely everything! Except for other shops products since he doesn’t wanna stir up the competition!

The general store has another branch in the city too!

Loved Gifts: Chicken Gumbo, Void Essence, Universal Loves

“Daw, thanks little imp! Now, don’t go thinkin’ this’ll get you a discount~”

Hated Gifts: Solar Essence (His friends hate this stuff), Universal Hates

“Hate to break it to ya, but I have a million of these in the back… You can keep it!”

Grim

The sewer rat? Basically the Krobus of this universe because it was between him and your farm companion! I mean c’mon you can even have him move in with you after you become good friends! He’s the true route fr.

Wants to live on the surface but that bird brained mayor won’t let him! So now he sells random stuff he found in the sewers to you…

He does sneak out pretty often though, it’s how you found him pretty early on.

The poor boy, get him some tuna. It blows his mind the first time he tries it. (He’s been living off of radioactive fish, he’s fine though)

Actually starts living with you even if you’re pursuing a bachelor as soon as he hits ten hearts.

He constantly complains about your other furry companion though…

It’s probably harder to give him a gift he hates since he’ll eat about everything. (Yes he eats all your gifts)

He wants to overthrow Crowley and become the mayor of town! He never succeeds. (He thinks mayor is the highest position in the whole world because it’s all he knows)

Loved Gifts: Tuna, Stone, Any Gem, Universal Loves

“Funa! You’re the best henchuman!!  I was feeling a little hungry!”

Hated Gifts: Universal Hates (Except clay maybe? Feels like he’d eat that too…)

“EW! This is worse than that time you called me a raccoon!”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)

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[charyou-tree]

I'm doing a periodic maintenance task for work, where I have to rebuild the container environment that our materials science computations get run in to update the versions of some software that we use, and I'm struck by just how much scientific knowledge is packed into this singularity image file that represents the container.

It takes like an hour to compile on modern hardware, from an Ubuntu (ha! the built in spell check in Ubuntu insists on capitalizing itself) base image with dozens of computational materials science simulation packages and supporting dependencies. These all have to be downloaded, compiled, linked, and installed in such a way that they can mutually interface, and take data and return results in the formats we use.

Once the whole thing is built, the final image is something like a gigabyte in size--5x that if we also install CUDA. I know that 1 Gb doesn't sound like that much data these days, some internet connections can download that in less than a second, but think about it:

This isn't a move or an image or a song. This archive contains almost no actual data. That gigabyte of space is pretty much entirely code instead; much of it compiled, executable code at that.

A gigabyte of materials science simulation Code, a billion characters worth of instructions, specifying the very best established practices for modeling the behavior of materials at the atomic level.

I know the digital age is old news, but I can't get over that level of cumulative effort. It represents tens of thousands of person-months of effort collectively, but I'm just sitting here watching my computer assemble it from a recipe that's short enough for me to read and sensibly edit, and distill that down into a finely-tuned piece of precision apparatus that fits on a flash drive.

And that isn't even the important part of our research! That's just all the shit we need installed on the system as background dependencies to be able to run our custom simulation code on top of that! Its so complex that at this point, its easier to run an entire (limited) virtual machine with our stuff installed in it than to try and convince every supercomputer cluster we work with to install every package separately and keep up with updates.

In case you're wondering what a day in the life of a computational materials physicist looks like: trying to do upgrades on incredibly complex machinery that you cannot touch or see. At least this time it doesn't also have to stay running while I do it...