#vector button

[chucklize]

A little something I wanted to do with all my button designs :)

If you like what you see I sell these as buttons here!!

http://Chucksnerdsupply.etsy.com

[nekobami]

(Jerry Smith) Pov: you pushed Slug Jerry out of his human disguise with your mean attitude.

Slug Jerry is now upset at you and thinks you're a monster.

(late) day 2 of this challenge.

[vgmerch]

tsr buttons by mightysen

> mightysen

[fruitiermetrostation]

Colorful Shining Buttons

[maxterdesign]

PL♥️Y

[ablog]

Getting a life may be cool but have you ever experienced animating on toonboom harmony with lines you can easily edit after using krita for years????????

[spriteattack]

Affinity Designer Tutorial - Creating and polishing simple shapes This video is all about different ways to polish, shade, and texture simple objects. I chose the humble button as an example. It's easy to create but can be changed into infinite designs. There are many different ways to shade an object from flat colours and gradients to combined effects using bevel and 3D.

[littleeyesofpallas]

[snonkerdoodlefizzy221b]

SO PISSED RN

[godricgryffinsnore]

fred weasley x gf!reader who’s actually incredibly smart. and fred fucking loves to listen to her ramble abt something new she learned, all dazed looking, with a big grin on his face as he stares at her lips move. and when he gets cuteness aggression, he’ll grab her face and kiss her all sloppy, no matter where they are. his favorite thing ever is watching his super smart gf become incredibly dumb when he fucks her. (she doesn’t have to be ravenclaw, she’s just smart kinda like hermione)

Brains and Bedhead ♡ : A Fred Weasley Fan Fiction.

pairing : Fred Weasley x fem!reader.

summary : A playful and passionate look into Fred Weasley’s love for his brilliant girlfriend—where wit meets worship, rambling turns to romance, and being smart has very unexpected consequences.

warnings : Suggestive content / implied sexual activity, Light smut (no explicit scenes, but strong innuendos), Mild language, Overwhelming fluff and humor, Fred Weasley being absolutely feral for his genius girlfriend. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : Anon!!! Your request was so good, I almost finished the entire fiction in one night!!! IT WAS SUCH A CUTE FIC TO WRITE AND MY BRAIN WAS SCREAMING WITH LINES AND IDEAS. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, ANON!!!!

word count : 0.6k

main master list <3

banners : @seldomstardom and @saradika-graphics

There was something almost divine about the way her mouth moved when she was excited about something. Fred Weasley didn’t quite believe in religion—unless you counted Quidditch or pranking professors—but when his girlfriend started talking about something she’d read, or theorized, or revolutionized in her pretty little head, he stared at her like a man at church. Worshipful. Dazed. Slightly drooling.

She was currently mid-ramble, pacing their shared dorm room with parchment tucked under one arm and her dressing gown half-falling off her shoulder—hair in disarray, wand stuck in it like a quill forgotten behind a poet’s ear.

“And if you apply vector transfiguration to a binding hex, you could theoretically reverse it—Fred, are you even listening?”

He wasn’t. He was staring. At her lips.

At the way they curved, pursed, twitched with thought. She was all bright-eyed brilliance and he was the dumb puppy who’d been hit by Cupid’s Howler.

“You’ve got the prettiest little mouth, you know that?” he murmured, leaning against the wall, hair a mess and shirt half-buttoned.

She blinked. “That’s not relevant to the theoretical implications of—mmf!”

He launched. With a gleam in his eye, he crossed the room in three long-legged strides, grabbed her face in both hands, and smashed a kiss to her lips—sloppy, breath-stealing, completely derailing.

“Fred—!” she gasped mid-smooch, but he just kept kissing her, chuckling between breaths.

“You’re too bloody smart for your own good, sweetheart,” he murmured against her mouth. “Makes me wanna kiss you stupid.”

And Merlin did he mean it.

She melted instantly—speechless for once, brain gone fuzzy like someone cast a silencing charm on her intelligence. She clung to his shoulders like they were anchors, and Fred felt the smug grin curl on his lips.

“Was that a theory on transfiguration or just dirty talk?” he teased, pulling back only an inch.

“I—I don’t remember,” she mumbled, dazed, eyes glazed over.

Fred beamed.

── .✦

He loved how clever she was. Really, he did. The way her mind worked was poetry with teeth. She could predict potion reactions like chess moves and memorize spells faster than anyone in the year.

But his favorite thing?

His absolute favorite thing was when that big, brilliant, overachieving brain of hers turned to mush.

Because when he had her in bed—her limbs tangled in sheets and her pretty lips parted with breathless gasps—his genius girlfriend became the most delicious, mindless, babbling mess he’d ever seen.

“Oh, fuck—Fred, I can’t—I can’t think—”

“Yeah?” he rasped, dragging his lips down her neck, utterly pleased with himself. “That clever little brain all scrambled now, love?”

She nodded, glassy-eyed, and he nearly groaned with how hot that was.

“You’re so good at everything, except thinking when I’m inside you, huh?”

Her only reply was a whimper.

── .✦

The next morning, he found her in the library, hair tied up again, glasses perched on her nose, and seven books stacked in front of her. She looked like a war general preparing for an academic siege.

Fred leaned over the table and whispered, “Still recovering from last night’s brain damage, darling?”

She flushed a deep crimson but didn’t look up.

“Shut up, Weasley.”

“Oh, that’s Mr. Weasley, certified IQ destroyer, to you.”

She shoved a book in his face, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips.

Fred kissed her temple and whispered, “I love you, brainiac.”

She rolled her eyes, muttering something about dopamine receptors and oxytocin, but he swore he saw her blush reach her ears.

And as he walked away, he turned and whispered, “Same time tonight?”

She didn’t answer. But she did bookmark her page with trembling fingers.

[ao3commentoftheday]

peachy keen ao3 site skin

If you'd like to add this site skin to your AO3 account, the code is under the cut.

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[fruitiermetrostation]

Junior Iconpack (146 icons)

[seat-safety-switch]

Those of you who are still dumbasses: hold onto that feeling. It's worth something.

When I was a kid, nothing was available with the push of a button or a stray thought to the Allminds. You'd look outside, and see a weird bird. Maybe you were lucky, and your folks were rich enough to have books on birds.

My grandfather had a book on birds. I would go run to look at it, and find out that the bird in question was maybe a Tightrope Tit Warbler or a Double-Breasted Cheese-Hating Nuthatch. No way to be sure. You could never get a good enough look at it before it flew off, unless you were some kind of weirdo with a camera and a bird book next to the window all the time. You had to live with the uncertainty.

Nowadays, you don't even get to have the curiosity. When you look at the bird, your smart window highlights it in glowing yellow, first checking it as a disease vector, a potential threat to the biological security of the homestead, and then flickering to green as it identifies it as no threat at all. Common Jugsbird, it says, and puts the Latin name underneath. If you look at the words too long, the voice in your head will start lecturing you about that bird's migratory patterns. Can't avoid becoming informed. It's like that for everything, now.

If you've managed to keep from learning about things, if you're still the kind of person who slows down on the highway in order to mouth out the words on the sign, then you're a rarity now. The congealed essence of all human knowledge has failed to permeate your thick fucking skull. You live in some kind of idyllic bliss, where your level of natural curiosity is so low that the Allminds barely differentiate you from an ornamental plant. I envy you. I wish I could forget what my mailman's favourite underwear brand is.

[cautious-soup]

Things I think aliens would find cute/endearing about humans: Part 5

Running

A/N: This part discusses physical activity and exercise in broad contexts regarding people. Please know that I am aware not every person can run or exercise traditionally, or at all, given any sundry factors.

Uuvadas | Log ●□°

In my language, the name we give humans translates directly to 'little runners'. Humans are quite adept at running; they evolved as such to avoid the numerous dangers on their planet. In fact, a substantial part of their cultures and languages are constructed around the concepts of locomotion.

Running is a necessary part of regular human exercise, and I thought this to be the extent of its significance. However this was before I met human crew member Farstrider, who's name translates directly to itself.

Farstrider is one of the more fit humans, and I have observed him running around the courtyard multiple times since his arrival on our vessel. Other humans run too. Humans even have small moving floors for the sole purpose of running.

He often tries to engage any and all crew members willing to participate in numerous human sports. Nearly all of them involve running. Run while rolling a sphere with your feet, run while holding a sphere with your hands, run and jump over raised sticks called 'hurdles', run around and chase each other.

The last mentioned game, tag, is the one most commonly played by the humans, and disturbs most of the non-humans on the crew. I am not disturbed by this behavior, but this is because my kind, like humans, are descendant from predators. Not long endurance predators like humans, but still the kind who partook in chase.

Most of the crew, however, evolved from prey, and politely decline Farstrider's invitations to play tag. Despite their significant stature over him and the other human crew members, some instincts just can't be erased.

In the Preparation room is a novel human invention that heats food very inefficiently by using radiation. I do not understand it, but the humans swear by it, and use it multiple times per cycle. Normally, when the radiation box has completed heating the food, it emits a very unpleasant noise. The humans seem to be aware of this, as they often run from wherever they are to the radiation box before it can emit the noise. To that end, I once watched human Murphy run out of the Preparation room after turning on the radiation box, and run back in before it went off. He pressed a button on the box and made various triumphant gestures (please see my previous logs on human Kinesics)

"Why?" I asked. I ask this question a lot around Murphy and other humans.

"I like timing myself," He says, smiling.

"Why not use a timer?"

"Oh, that thing is a timer basically. But it also has a separate timer that actually counts as a timer."

"..."

"...you're scribbling real aggressive there pal,"

As mentioned, human recreational activities revolve completely around running, both physically and digitally. Human digital entertainment is often centered around a digital render of a human or human-like character running from one place to another, and completing tasks. There is one in a world made of various cubic vectors, one about humans born from 'dragons', one about a small green-clad human who does not speak, all of which were controlled to run towards their objectives. It is also worth noting that a concerning amount of these digital entertainments are obscenely violent. Humanity's barbarous tendencies have myself and other non-humans wondering how they managed to reach Andromeda in the first place.

The answer is marginally, they were half dead when they first arrived some 80 solar cycles ago, running from problems they'd created on their own planet.

We in the coalition regard Deathworlders who have achieved intergalactic travel hesitantly. Deathworlders have been making contact at a higher frequency than ever before; we've truly entered a new era. The Great Filter has passed.

90% of Deathworlders never even achieve interstellar travel before the harsh conditions of their world render them extinct. We from worlds of steady, stable climates and non-hostile wildlife were able to evolve and advance exponentially faster than humans. Humans all assume that us old races of the Coalition have intelligence beyond measure, but really it is that our lack of need for sleep, and our ideal planets allowed us to devote more time toward advancement.

That a race like the humans were able to claw their way here is nothing short of extatraordinary. More and more I find myself fond of human ambition, and what they do not in lack of fear, but in spite of it.

"Strange little runner," I said to Murphy, who shook his head and smiled as he ate his radiated food, "Again with that nickname?"

End of log

Previous Entry

[time-can-fly]

I pretty much made these bc I wanted to mess with Julie-Su and Mighty dynamics. (Especially Julie-Su development I want to make her feel like an actual character) I wanted to do Ray, I just ran out of juice. The chaotix in my au are a lot like a family. Vector's literally everyone's father figure here, including Mighty and Julie-Su. They all love eachother and have eachother's backs even if they butt heads sometimes. Charmy: Sees him as a little brother. This means she would both destroy the world for him while also snatching the last treat before he can. This goes for Ray too. Her favs, the others don't ask her what her 3rd favorite reptile is. Mighty: They often train together, and while she's not as strong as him, they still wrestle and such. They have a tendency to talk more since Mighty's laid back. Usually the one who manages to calm her down. (Or anyone down for that matter. Mighty's the team's therapist) Vector: They don't always see eye to eye, and while she's usually more mature on level with Espio, she can't resist pushing Vector's buttons. As mentioned, she does see him as a father figure, so it's more of the annoying that kids do to their parents. But don't worry, as the father figure, he has plenty of ways to get under her skin too. They also happen to butt heads the most for different ideas of how missions should be carried out. Espio: @charleecat-bat mentioned/suggested it'd be a fun/friendly rivalry between the two because they're both marksmen. She's great with guns, he's great with his kunai and shuriken stars. They get compettive during training, but once they get too snippy about it they can't help but laugh how stupid it is to get shaken up about. (Also yes she's taller than him he's slightly jealous.) Main thing I want to do with this version of Julie is make her still sassy and hot headed, but be more genuine. She doesn't get jealous as easily either.

[saphronethaleph]

Skydancer

“Well… darn,” Leia said, with feeling.

Apparently she’d picked entirely the wrong time to look in on the rebels in the Dennogra system. The Imperials had somehow got wind of the presence of the base, a sting operation had gone into play – while she was there, no less – and a Star Destroyer and an Interdictor were hanging overhead, TIE fighters flying cover over the base while stormtroopers closed in.

Her transport was already disabled, burned out by the first wave of fighters, and the local Rebel net had gone silent thirty seconds ago with the last report being that Base Orenth and Base Trill had both been neutralized.

Leia reached for her hold-out pistol.

She had a choice coming up, soon. She’d either be surrendering herself into Imperial custody, hoping for the means to make an escape attempt, or she’d be selling her life dearly.

And…

...she couldn’t see herself surrendering to Imperial custody. They knew she was a Rebel, now. Tarkin might be dead, but she had no reason to expect that any Imperial captors would be even as merciful as him.

Her fingers slid over the grip of the blaster as she moved from cover to cover, ears alert for any sign of the Stormtroopers closing the net, then paused as she spotted something.

There was an A-Wing fighter left in the hanger.

Leia frowned, trying to remember what she knew about the A-Wing.

It was… shielded, she knew that much, and it was fast and agile. And it didn’t rely on an Astromech droid to make hyperspace jumps.

That was it, then. That was how she could get out of this.

She just needed to handle enough fighters to get clear, and then the Interdictor – either escaping it by flying out of its range, or disabling it.

The A-Wing had concussion missile launchers, didn’t it? And the shields on an Imperial cruiser or destroyer were…

Leia thought about that a moment longer, checking in all directions, then made up her mind and ran for the fighter.

“Hey – stop!” a voice shouted, and Leia whirled. Without stopping, she snapped off two blasts, and one stormtrooper fell with a smoking hole in his breastplate.

The other ducked into cover, then returned fire, and Leia paused by the front leg of the A-Wing before firing twice more. That left her only two shots left in the small energy cell, but the shot did down the other stormtrooper, and she hurried up the ladder into the cockpit before sealing the canopy and hitting the self-start button.

The fighter’s computer flashed an unhappy pattern of lights at her, and Leia bared her teeth.

“Come on, you bucket of bolts,” she muttered, stabbing at a few controls, then the status screen came up. She flicked the repulsors online, then the shields, and a moment later a blaster bolt peened off the shield and into the corner of the hangar.

Blasters came up next, and Leia twisted the yoke. It was intuitive and responsive, a sign of good design, and she walked her fire across a whole squad of stormtroopers.

Then she keyed the main engines, and the whole hangar behind her was fried as the powerful engines boosted her upwards.

Two patrolling TIEs immediately began closing in on her, the sensor screen pinging a warning, and Leia muttered a curse.

She wasn’t a pilot… but this was a very fast and very agile fighter.

And it wasn’t like anyone else was showing up to save her skin.

A twitch of the yoke, and she snap-rolled ninety degrees to starboard before spinning halfway around. The twin cannon spat fire, blowing one TIE to pieces and clipping the wing of the other, and the second one wobbled in an uncontrollable roll before managing to get some control of itself and come back around.

Another element of two TIEs was vectoring in, and Leia finished her spin before diving towards the ground. There were Imperial ground elements down there, still visible, and if the fighters were going to shoot at her she could at least decoy them to try and hit the ground forces – then a large Imperial walker was looming up before her, and Leia adjusted her angle a little to aim between the front and back legs.

Pulling back out again as soon as she shot between them, Leia glanced around to get a good handle on the situation, then yanked the yoke back and switched from engines to repulsors. That meant the big engines weren’t pushing her forwards any more, letting her make a tight turn, and she pulled the trigger twice about when she’d be lined up with the pursuing fighters.

Three more explosions lit the sky, followed by drifting clouds of smoke as bits of TIE fighter rained down, then Leia switched back to main engines and turned towards her next targets.

Even a novice like her could tell that she didn’t want to be surrounded by enemy fighters. So the only way out of this was going to be to make sure they didn’t – or couldn’t.

“We feared we’d lost you, Princess,” General Rieekan said, as Leia clambered down the side of the A-Wing she’d appropriated. “When we heard about the attack on the Dennogra base, we feared the worst.”

“I was all right,” Leia replied. “Fortunately I had an A-Wing.”

“You’re not wrong,” Wedge agreed, inspecting it. “That’s definitely an A-Wing.”

He frowned. “What actually happened, Princess? The report was that there was an Interdictor overhead… was that incorrect?”

“No, there was,” Leia agreed. “Along with a Star Destroyer. Like I said, I had an A-Wing. Whoever designed that fighter is a real expert, it can be flown as well as you please by even a novice.”

Wedge, Carlist Rieekan, and everyone else present not named Leia Organa exchanged confused looks.

“...no, it can’t,” Wedge said, slowly. “It’s a good bird, a bit lighter than I prefer, but it’s extremely temperamental… who else was flying with you? Did anyone else get out?”

“All the other fighters were taken out on the ground by the initial bombardment and fighter strike,” Leia replied. “The one I used happened to be deeper into the hanger and it survived.”

“You escaped by yourself?” Rieekan asked. “Princess, I’m… sorry for my tone of voice, but that’s impossible. Or it shouldn’t be possible. Those two capital ships carry nearly a hundred TIEs between them, and while some of those squadrons are bombers or boarding elements that’s still-”

He broke off, because Leia was counting under her breath.

“...that sounds about right,” she said. “Well, I counted about sixty, anyway, and maybe a dozen bombers.”

“I think we need to check the gun camera footage,” Wedge decided. “I want to see this.”

About an hour later, Leia was in the middle of catching up on important messages when Rieekan came into the meeting room she was using.

So did Wedge, and most of the other pilots on the cruiser.

“We’re not worthy,” Derek Klivian declared. “We’re not worthy! We’re not worthy!”

“Hobbie,” Wedge said, shaking his head. “Are you ever going to stop that?”

“Nope, sir!” Klivian replied.

“He’s got a point,” Rieekan said. “Princess, we’ve reviewed the gun camera footage. And then taken some anti-nausea medication.”

“Is there something wrong?” Leia asked.

“Well, you’re one of the best pilots in history,” Wedge replied. “None of my best pilots could do that. I’d have said even Luke couldn’t do that, but then Hobbie told a joke and we decided to actually do it.”

“Princess,” Rieekan went on. “I regret to inform you that a genetic test has revealed that you’re Luke Skywalker’s sister. We think you’re both the children of Anakin Skywalker, who went down in galactic history as the single most capable natural pilot ever recorded.”

“...though you might just earn the top spot, now,” Tycho added. “Seriously, that was at least fourteen consecutive chakra manoeuvres and you shot down at least two fighters per chakra manoeuvre. And I never knew the A-Wing could do half of the other things you made it do.”

Leia was still wrapping her head around Luke Skywalker’s sister.

“Ever considered being a pilot?” Wedge added. “I’d say we can give you lessons but that might not even be necessary…”