#There is a version without text but this is fine for viewing

[atomra]

『 DABI DANCE 』 

 Artsy take on one of my favourite poses in Dabi's dance!

#There is a version without text but this is fine for viewing #dabi #touya todoroki #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanart #dabi dance #atomart #atomfan

[luna-andra]

Late Night Hotline | Sub!Konig x Reader | Part 2

Summary: Konig finds himself getting off to his Lieutenant's voice over the phone, and he can't get enough of her as he goes back for more.

C/W: 18+ MDNI, SMUT HEAVY, cunnilingus, fingering, collared sub, willing sub, praises, degradation, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, orgasm denial

Word Count: ~4k

A/N: I threw out the first attempt of me writing this part so I'm so sorry it took longer than I anticipated. I'm so much happier with this final edit, and I hope you are too! Gotta keep y'all fed <3

Enjoy~

Part 1

It didn’t matter what inflection or tone her voice carried; he could hear another version of her in the recesses of his mind. Moaning his name, whispering things that bounced back and forth from sweet praises to filthy degradation. It was at the most inconvenient moments, when she was presenting her reports during the current briefing, for example. When she was focused and neutral, paying no mind to how he undressed her with his eyes. If anything, she was better behaved than he was. At least from what he could see on the outside.

Then he discovered what went on behind her practiced persona. More like what she premeditated to transpire. His phone vibrated in his pocket, alerting him to a text message from Tempest.

Enjoying the view while you sit back there, trying to conceal your raging hard-on?

His eyes snapped back up, wide as saucers. They shifted cautiously, checking to make sure no one had seen him. Everyone else was too focused on Tempest, some of them looking too hard at her. It would warrant a cold glare from Konig if he wasn’t shocked by her message. Did she set them to send before the meeting started? He recalled her tapping away on the screen, the phone sitting in her lap while she waited for everyone to file in. And right now, she was still deep in her report, her phone tucked away in her back pocket of her ACU bottoms. Her face didn’t give away a hint of awareness that Konig received the first message. A deadly poker face, it almost scared him as much as it kept him aroused. 

Another vibration from his phone. He shifted nervously, preparing him for what was gonna pop up on the screen.

Wonder if you could sit still after seeing this…

A second message popped up shortly after, a file downloading. Scheiße…

The file was an image, her blackout silhouette posing in a doorway. Emanating a deep red glow of her surroundings. There was no way she was wearing any clothes in that boudoir-style picture. Konig could see the peaks and valleys of her entire figure. The pose did miracles for her silhouette, accentuating her perfection. She was leaning against the threshold with her back bowed, a lone foot providing support against the same surface, and a hand brushing back her wild, undone hair.

He had to shove the phone back in his pocket immediately. His lower lip was going to be a victim to the sharp bite of his teeth, definitely bruised and on the brink of breaking skin. It was all he could do to hold back any and every reaction those photos roiled within him. It was also the first time Tempest had ever sent risqué photos to him.

That little minx… she had him struggling to adjust without drawing attention to himself. Fuck, the seam of his pants was ready to tear against the strain of his cock beneath. He was aware that even soft he had a noticeable outline in some of his pants. And unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong pair today. He just hoped that his leak didn’t stain past his boxers.

“You alright?” A whisper came from Horangi. “You looked pissed.”

Konig glanced at him with a side eye, thankful that he’s unable to see anything else but the intensity in his azure eyes. “Ja, fine.” His answer contrasted the short, gruff tone in his voice. Horangi gave him one last questioning glance before he dropped it.

Tempest must have heard the two of them conversing. Her sharp eyes flicked to the back of the room, immediately locking onto Konig. It interrupted nothing she was presenting, just a fleeting moment of attention that made his cock twitch. If he didn’t get himself under control, he was gonna go insane.

“What of the weapons cache that was confiscated from the warehouse?” Ghost’s interruption jerked Konig back to reality like a cold splash of water.

Tempest shifted her stance to the other leg. Konig swore the room dropped a few degrees in between the pause she took to answer. “Accounted for, Lieutenant. It was my next topic of discussion.”

“Could’ve brought it up sooner, eh?” 

The twitch in her eyebrow disagreed with him strongly, maliciously. Their stand-offish aggression towards each other started not even ten minutes after Task Force 141 arrived to conduct a joint effort mission. Ironically enough, it was Tempest that conducted the eleventh-hour meeting with KorTac to announce their temporary stay. Konig recalled her words being:

For the next month, Task Force 141 will be roaming on our base. I will only say this once, no fighting. 141 will be treated as respected guests, these halls will be their home while they are here. No fighting. No. Fucking. Fighting!

141 arrived, Ghost and Tempest were immediately on rocky terms when he made the choice to disregard her presence and careful welcome. 

For the sake of maintaining professionalism and taking the high ground, Tempest took the retort, a relieving surprise for everyone else in the briefing room, letting it roll off her tense shoulder. “You’re right, Ghost.”

It was like everyone released the breath they were holding simultaneously. The volatile hostility had distracted Konig from his uncomfortable situation. He eased back into his chair, listening to Tempest close out the report. Konig had a big issue with Ghost. If there was an opportunity to put him in his place, Konig would seize it like a prisoner of war. The unhinged, sadistic part of him that comes out on the field whispers ways it could be done, leaving him for the wolves to feed on Ghost’s incapacitated body as he brings Tempest a trophy, that stupid skull mask, as a gesture of his devotion. He was stable enough to control his bloodlust, but there just may be a moment when they cross paths, and only one might come back alive.

Once dismissal was given by Konig, everyone filed out of the briefing room. He lingered behind to wait for Tempest to gather her paperwork, shuffling it into the leather portfolio. She wiped her face with one hand, an attempt to diffuse the anger Ghost had stirred up.

“I’m gonna snap, Colonel.” Tempest gritted between her teeth. “He’s insufferable.”

Konig leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “You kept it together, schatzi. I thought you were going to bite his head off right then and there.” The feeling was mutual.

Tempest scoffed, a smirk growing on her face. “And what message would that send to everyone else after saying ‘no fighting’?” She tucked the portfolio under her arm and faced Konig. Rather than making room for Tempest to walk pass, Konig straightened up, his chin dipping to look at her more directly. He could see the shift in her eyes from irritation to confusion.

“Speaking of messages, you want to explain yourself?” Konig was asking as her Colonel, at least his voice reflected that. In reality, he was a few more heartbeats away from folding to her all over again.

Clarity cleared up the puzzling glint in her gaze, and her voice lowered to a level that made his legs turn to lead. “You really want to talk about that right here, right now? We can talk about how I can have you so fucking strung out, leaving you pent up without release for a whole fucking week, huh?”

To anyone passing by the briefing room, Tempest looked like a subordinate expressing her grievances that could be connected to Ghost’s temperament and lack of respect. Not a single trace of the debauchery she was making out of Konig. Her resolve was crafted - no, stronger than carbon fiber, her words sinking deep into his bloodstream like venom. 

Her eyebrows raised after a pause passed when she didn’t get an answer from him. “At a loss for words, Colonel?” The added bite to his rank could rip through his jugular. “I left something on your desk. Maybe when you see it we can discuss this further.” The faintest smirk passed her mouth, and she stormed her way past Konig to leave the room.

Konig let out the breath that was caught in his throat since she started talking. His fist slammed on the nearby table when his pants became uncomfortably tight again.

----

The door clicked behind him as the sight of a black gift box greeted him, sitting perfectly on top of scattered files and loose papers across his desk. It was wider in dimension than its height, no larger than what could be a personal box of chocolates. After rounding the desk, Konig took a seat in his leather chair. He lifted the lid and set it aside, revealing a second box, but this one had a soft, velvet surface. Jewelry? No.

His deft fingers opened the top, its hinges giving some resistance. Inside sat a sleek, black collar with a metal ring adorned front and center, sitting on a bed of dark, red satin. Mein Gott… Konig’s eyes bugged, his fingers whispered against the high-quality leather. In the center of the collar was nestled a small card with scripted words, reading “If it goes on, there’s no turning back ♥” Konig was well aware of what this meant for him. Put the collar on, and he was hers. 

He already declared himself to be hers after the second time, the sober time they had phone sex, but this would be the physical affirmation that would seal the deal. If it weren’t for the fact that he wore the makeshift sniper hood, concealing both face and neck, he wouldn’t have even bothered taking the collar out of its pretty display case. She must have taken that into consideration when she picked it out. It was extremely arousing, the idea of having this dirty little secret with a physical memento. Going completely undetected. They could be amongst all of KorTac, and only two people would be aware of the collar’s presence.

The metal ring made a soft clink against its hardware as he pulled it from the satin bed, and he lifted the hood enough to bring the collar around his neck. Why did it fit so perfectly? How did she get the dimensions down so well? It fit snug, pressed flush against the column of his throat. It would take some time getting used to, he’s never worn something of the sort. The fabric of the sniper hood fell over it, and Konig tucked away the box in one of the drawers of his desk. The inner lining of the leather was soft and when it rubbed against him, he let out a soft sigh. I’m hers…

“I’ll take it you got my gift.”

Konig’s attention shot up to his unexpected visitor across the room, he didn’t even hear the sound of the door opening and closing. Tempest. He went mouse silent. Her small boots thumped against the floor as she stepped forward to the front of his desk, leaning into it. Her face was still serious like the last time she saw her a few hours ago. Without answering, he flipped up one side of his hood to reveal the hardware hugging his neck. There was a glimmer in her dark eyes, like a furnace was turned on and was stoked with every piece of coal you could find.  

She finally smiled, wide and proud of his decision. “It looks so nice around that pretty neck…” her fingers traced along the edge of the cheap oak desk, and she made her way around. Konig’s chair swiveled to face her when she stopped in front of him, his heart already racing, and his breath labored. She knows exactly what that lethal inflection does to him, using it like the weapon that will be his demise. With Konig seated, he was at eye-level with Tempest, giving her access to use a hand to trail up his chest. The ghost of her touch had his body shuddering, he was ready to let out a throaty whine. He’s been so fucking touch-starved, it was enough to bring to life the entire network of his nerve endings. Her hand reached beneath Konig’s hood, looping a finger through the metal ring. “Perfect for me to just…” she gave a hard tug, and his body jerked towards her. Tempest leaned in, giving herself leverage on the armrest with her other hand. Her lips pressed close to his burning ear. “You like being my pet so much that you’ll wear that pretty little collar?”

Words disintegrated on his tongue, but when all he managed to do was nod, her demanding grip on his face pulled him out of his stupor. “Yes, my liebling.” He was crumbling to her will faster now that this was all happening face-to-face rather than over the phone. Her touch was flames licking at his stubbled jaw. Konig took a second to close his eyes shut only to look back at her with his baby blue stare.

“Look at those sweet puppy dog eyes.” Tempest cooed sardonically. “Already this hard just from my hand holding your face?” Her eyes darted down to look at the front of his pants at the tent he was pitching. She added to the stimulation with her thumb brushing over his stubble. “I’m gonna put that strong jaw to use.” Tempest released her hold on him and scooted in the space between Konig’s desk and chair. He paid close attention to her movements, following her again with a squeak of his chair turning.

Konig couldn’t pry his eyes away from Tempest if he wanted to. He watched her hoist herself up onto the edge of the desk, wiggling her hips to make herself comfortable in the space free of paperwork clutter. Apprehension and panic made his heart race when he noticed Tempest reaching to undo her belt, connecting the pieces of what she alluded to. “Right here?” A quick glance at the door to his office signified that she locked the door when she first came in. Still, the possibility of someone coming looking for Konig had him on edge. But wholly fuck, it was erotic. 

“You wanted to talk about my messages so badly earlier, and I’m gonna give you a chance to tell me what went through your head.” The fly of her pants was already down, and her lithe fingers slipped into the waistband of her pants to sit there.

Tempest was interrupted by Konig reaching down for her foot. “Here, engel.” He lifted one foot to rest on his knee, unlacing her boots with care to slip it off and set it to the side. His massive hands did the same as the other while Konig peeked up to her face, gauging her reaction. Konig thirsted for the slightest bit of delight from his domme. Her onyx eyes burned into him like a cigarette bud singing his skin, impatiently waiting for him to get on with it.

“I couldn’t chance another second of looking at that body of yours,” Konig muttered. “I didn’t want to know what it was like to come without touching myself.”

Hearing this brought her cruel pleasure, twisting that wicked smile wider. “It might just happen for you, sir.” Her hands began to shove off her bottoms, underwear and all. Konig assisted her, the act itself feeling extremely intimate. He did it mostly to avoid making direct eye contact with the thing he desired most right now. To avoid jeopardizing his chances of having any release from all of this. Tempest closed her legs off by crossing one over the other. “Keep talking.”

Konig bit down on his lip as he could see a tuft of groomed hair at the apex of her thighs. “My thoughts paled in comparison to seeing the real deal,” his German accent thickened as he went on. “Could see the outline of your nipples… the shape of your bare ass.” All thoughts ceased when her legs parted, the display of her glistening pussy left him open-mouthed. Paled in fucking comparison was the understatement of the year. His hips bucked once in his chair, hands gripping on the armrests so hard the leather groaned in his strong hold. Someone would have to stab his eyes out to make him look away from that beauty-

“Eyes up here.”

He let out a pained whine, willing himself to make eye contact with her. Fuck, he could already smell her from where he sat, it brought him to the brink of drooling like a wild animal. “Let me taste you, mein hase. Please, I need to have you.”

“Already this needy, after all the waiting you’ve done. Going the past couple of weeks with nothing but my voice and those looks you give me in the weight room? Don’t look at me like that, I know you look.” Tempest readied two of her fingers with a swipe in her mouth, not like she fucking needed it. Her greedy pussy swallowed up both digits as her strokes moved in and out of her at a languid speed. Her neck rolled back as she let out a soft sigh, the small part in her lips going very noticed by Konig as he coded every look, every sound and scent into his very soul. 

“I do, I have watched you.” Konig confessed. “I’ll make you feel good, liebe. Please, I need you.” It was taking everything to not lunge at her and claim that pretty cunt with his tongue, his fingers, anything she desired.

Her fingers left her pussy neglected, poor thing. Konig caught the sheen of her arousal coating her fingers, webbing between her fingers when she spread them just enough. Instead of offering it up to him, she sucked on her own fingers, eyes rolling back in her skull. This was pure torture at this point. His cock was strangled in his pants, and he wasn’t about to touch himself when he was so close to having what he needed. Her fingers left her mouth with a gentle smack as she shifted her hips a little more forward. “Finish the job.”

Tempest couldn’t finish her command without Konig lurching forward like a starved predator. He lifted his hood just enough for his mouth to latch onto his target while his rough, calloused hands reached underneath her to cup her perfect ass. The tug had a sharp gasp coming from her when he pulled Tempest closer to him, her hips hanging off the ledge with the assist of Konig holding her in place. One of her legs fell limp to the side, so he pulled a hand away from her just to toss that lazy leg over his shoulder, giving her better leverage.

His growl was primal, almost demonic. Vibrating against her sex. Konig swiped his tongue from the bottom of her entrance, all the way up just below her clit. Tempest choked back a moan, clenching it tight in her throat to keep it from echoing in the room. The sound coming from Konig was a warning for her to give him every cry and moan, he wanted to hear it all the same way she ordered him so many times before. When she tilted her head down to meet his feral stare, the half-lidded, eyebrow furrowed expression she gave him had the cum shooting up his shaft dangerously quick. 

Konig had to close his eyes and breathe to calm himself down as his tongue continued exploring her divine taste. He was drunk on it all, the taste, the way her body twitched and squirmed at every flick of his tongue, the privilege of pleasing his domme, the look she had just given him. What he would give to make her stay like this, splayed out on his desk for him to take. 

After teasing her with a few laps up and down her slit, he moved on to circle his tongue on the neglected bundle of nerves, rolling it between his lips with a nibble. It made her squeal, something Konig had never heard from her. “Fuck, wait…” now she was the babbling mess at his mercy. “Too good~” Her small hand gripped onto the back of his head, scrunching up the fabric of his mask.

He wasn’t stopping now, not after the teasing she has been doing to him all this time. Konig wanted her trembling, quaking on his tongue. To show her what she’s been holding out on, make her regret it. To melt any and all thoughts floating around in that pretty head, his name being the only thing she will remember. “Too much for you to handle, pretty baby?”

“Shut up, almost there.” Tempest mewled as her hips started rutting into his assault on her clit. Konig didn’t need a warning of her impending climax, he could hear it in the crescendo of her moans. His hair was now tangled beneath the stranglehold she had on him. The sound of his name falling from her lips endlessly was a whole entire music score dedicated just to him. He kept the pace strong and steady, fueled by the need to make her come undone.

And that came sooner than anticipated. Her thighs squeezed the sides of his head as she writhed and bucked against his face. She tried scooting away from him, but it gave him the angle to pin her hips down, freeing his hands to add to the mix. Cries and screams pierced the air, a cacophony of stuttering breaths and whimpers of overstimulation. His tongue may have eased up on its ministrations, but he kissed the overworked nerve, open mouthed and lazily. “Mein perle…” Konig whispered against her sex, as if speaking to her pussy rather than her. A single digit lined up with the entrance of her weeping cunt, she was more than ready to take his thick fingers. “One more, liebling. Give me one more.” 

“Ohh…” Tempest’s back arched off the desk as Konig offered her his finger, her walls greedily sucking him in as she continued to pulsate from her first orgasm. “Konig...!” Oh, how he loved hearing her squeal his name. 

“You can take it, for me.” It wasn’t an order; it was a plea to let him break her apart one more time. He wanted to be the only thing on her mind as she fell asleep tonight, his name falling from those perfect lips in the dead of her slumber. Because he sure as hell was going to be dreaming of the way her face contorts and twists in blissful agony as she begs for him to ease up on her swollen pussy.

She was already tensing up for another, Konig could feel it in the way her body responded to his finger curling against that spot. “That’s it, come for me.”

Tempest did just that, convulsing and sobbing through each shockwave that racked her body. Konig pulled his mouth and finger away, knowing she was sensitive as hell from what he just put her through. He slid a hand behind her lower back and neck, lifting her from the desk and onto his lap to straddle him. She continued to tremble through the high, her hot breath against his neck as her arms found their way around his torso. 

Konig wanted to stay like this with her, forgetting everything else that happened outside his office. It didn’t matter. None of it. He rubbed her back as she started to settle down. “How was that schatz?”

A pleased hum was her response before she sat up to move his mask away to reveal his lips. “Need to taste.” She leaned in for a forceful kiss, her tongue slipping past his lips, groaning at the perfect mixture of his saliva and her arousal. As if she couldn’t get any hotter.

#call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig call of duty #sub konig #domme reader #cod mw2 #mw2 #konig fanfiction

[doshmanziari]

Without a doubt, and by far, the most marginalizing development I've seen within media analysis over the past decade is a shift towards the production of long, flashy videos which tend to require the same for a dialogue to occur. Literally nothing which has been written about Elden Ring, for example, since its release has enjoyed even a fraction of the visibility as a one-hour-and-forty-minutes video by Joseph Smith, or another of similar length by NeverKnowsBest. I don't know when exactly the shift started to happen most obviously -- maybe 2016 or 2017 -- but, today, circumstances are such that pretty much the only way to get real discursive traction on your thoughts about a piece of media is to make a colossus of a video.

Although worried and worrying discourse has complemented the unveiling of newer public A.I. technologies, we've already done a perfectly fine job of out-dating other forms of media communication by way of the aforementioned analytic format; just as, of course, earlier methods of industrial production rendered a whole variety of professions or emphases as outmoded. If you don't have the relevant editing tools at your disposal and/or don't want to spend hundreds of hours cropping footage and making it fit with music and your own narration, well -- too bad! And even then, of course, there's no guarantee that your video will reach your desired scale of an audience. I've found dozens of such videos on YT channels with only a few thousand views, if that; and on each channel it's clear that the people finally gave up after the monumental task of assembling these videos had no equivalent payoff.

Personally, I do still believe in the primacy of the text (or the spoken word, with no competing stimuli); in text as the primary form of critical engagement. More than that -- if I'm going to read a non-fiction work, I want the paged book, and not a digital version. Now, this preference is just that: a preference. And it surely is a preference a good number of people share. I find that a paged book lends itself better to my own retention of the material; and I really enjoy making my notes on the book's paper with a pen. But I don't believe that the construction of multimedia behemoths should be a baseline requirement for discourse.

I wonder if we will, in the near future, start to see some resurgence of the valuation of unembellished textual analysis complementing a more general fatigue with Internet-derived overstimulation. I've already run across numerous channels with fairly sizable communities where there is an appreciation for the "simplicity" of the formats: a person in a room just talking to the camera. I think a lot of people like engaging analysis where the only barrier of significance is devising a good script. To be sure, this is a formidable barrier in itself. I find writing long-form pieces to be the most difficult of any of my creative practices (which include drawing, painting, and music composition). But if writing on media were my main passion or goal in life, I'd feel fairly crushed to know that these projects now required me to put in perhaps quadruple the amount of time to make a blip on the radar of engagement.

EDIT: Thinking on this -- I wonder if there's a parallel to be found in the realm of supplementing one's work with excess-entertainment via social media engagement; e.g., daily Instagram videos. "Excess-entertainment" refers to material that's being made not because everyone who's making it wants to make it, but because each person is now beholden to an abstractly instituted algorithm of engagement -- an algorithm reinforced by audiences who, also under algorithmic influence, will wonder what's going on if a week goes by without something from a Content Creator.

Most artists who I've talked to regarding their Instagram videos say they would be only too happy if they never had to do another upload showing them adding paint or linework to a work-in-progress with lo-fi beats. Similarly, I wonder how many people making these mega-videos actually want to make them, and if we're not rather seeing the production of this material under a mutual, and mutually untrue, assumption of necessity, and the demands of a largely imaginary audience; and how long they'll be able to keep the act up, given the certainly enormous time investments they require (while noting that I am sure the more successful people hire others to do most of the editing for them).

#multimedia #media criticism #technology #communications technology

[deathbypixelz]

Alright. I'm making this post because I was unpleasantly surprised to find Microsoft had forcibly downloaded an """"ai assistant"""" onto my computer (called Copilot), and because finding a site that actually told me how to kill it for good -- in clear, truly step-by-step terms -- was way harder than it needed to be.

Preface: this is only relevant if you're running Windows 11.

Here is your target:

If you see this logo on your taskbar -- or... have Edge installed on Windows 11 -- you've got Copilot. You can't delete it on its own, Microsoft has integrated it into the OS as best they can. The most you can do is disable it (instructions for which are at the very end of this post).

So... to REALLY get rid of it you need to uninstall Microsoft Edge, because it's a part of/reliant on Edge. A lot of bells and whistles of Windows are also reliant on Edge, like widgets, but I never use those. I use my PC almost exclusively for gaming, and I don't want this slimy "ai" shit on my computer. I use Firefox anyway. Edge can go die as far as I'm concerned.

Here's the actual steps, copy-pasted from a website that took me way too long to find. It also really makes my browser chug for some reason, which is why I'm copy-pasting the whole thing. If you still want to look at the site itself, put it in reader view as fast as you can (link to site).

1.) Open Microsoft Edge, type "edge://settings/help" in the address bar, and then press Enter.

2.) Click "About Microsoft Edge" at the bottom of the left-hand pane. Copy the version number at the top of the screen, under Microsoft Edge.

3.) Press Windows Key + S to open Windows Search.

4.) Type "Command Prompt", right-click the result, and then select "Run as Administrator".

5.) The User Account Control (UAC) prompt will appear. Click "Yes".

6.) Navigate to Edge’s “Installer” directory by using the cd command. Depending on which directory your Command Prompt opens in by default, you may need to use the "cd .." command to go back a level or two.

Once ready, run this command:

cd “Program Files (x86)\Microsoft\Edge\Application\Version Number\Installer”

Replace "Version Number" with your actual version number copied earlier.

7.) Next, run this command to uninstall Microsoft Edge:

setup –uninstall –force-uninstall –system-level

((It will look like nothing happened! Don't worry!))

8.) Restart your PC for the changes to take place.

((HOWEVER, Windows will try to reinstall it the next time your PC updates (or whenever it feels like it lol) so there's a second half to this))

1.) Press Windows Key + R to open Run.

2.) Type "regedit" in the text box and click OK to open the Registry Editor.

3.) The User Account Control (UAC) prompt will appear. Click "Yes".

4.) In the Registry Editor, navigate to HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINES\SOFTWARE\Microsoft.

5.) Right-click the "Microsoft" folder, hover your cursor over "New", and then select "Key".

6.) Rename the new Key to "EdgeUpdate".

7.) Right-click EdgeUpdate, hover your cursor over "New", and then select "DWORD (32-bit) Value".

8.) Right-click the new value, which is currently named "New Value #1".

9.) Select "Rename" from the context menu.

10.) Rename the value to "DoNotUpdateToEdgeWithChromium".

11.) Right-click the newly-named DoNotUpdateToEdgeWithChromium value and select "Modify" from the context menu.

12.) The Edit DWORD (32-bit) Value window will appear. Change the Value data to "1" and then click OK.

((You are now free. If you ever run into a really serious, unavoidable issue with your OS that's clearly a result of Edge being gone, you can redownload it like a regular app. But you should be fine.))

((And, if for some reason you want still want Edge around but just want the copilot thing gone, here's what you do:

The command, for ease of copy-pasting: reg add HKCU\Software\Policies\Microsoft\Windows\WindowsCopilot /v TurnOffWindowsCopilot /t REG_DWORD /d 1 /f

You can't actually truly delete Copilot (without deleting Edge), only disable it. And as the reply says, you do have to do this every time you turn the computer on. I haven't tested that myself, but I believe it. I assume/hope that excludes just waking the computer up after it goes to sleep, but I don't know for sure.))

#not art #if i had known better at the time i wouldn't have updated to windows 11 but here we are

[sailtomarina]

Convincing Granger (No Books Required)

“Let it be known that my family library is far grander and full of more priceless works than the Hogwarts Library.”

They sat at her favorite table in the back of the library in question, one that overlooked the Black Lake and was mostly hidden from view unless a wandering student was in particular need of texts on medieval farming methods or theoretical applications of marshland fungi.

Hermione had been trying to finish her essay for Ancient Runes, but Draco was making it nearly impossible to focus. First it was him inquiring about her holiday plans—no she was not returning to the Burrow—and now he was going on about his Manor’s library for some unknown reason.

“Is that supposed to be some innuendo, Draco, because I swear to Godric—”

“No! But…it could be. That’s a nice catch, actually, ow!”

She swatted him with the thickest tome she could lay her hands on, which happened to be a study of European centaur herds over the past century. Hermione tried not to think about how he might notice the title and crack some joke about being more hung than a centaur.

“I’m just saying that you would love my cock, I mean, library. Fucking Salazar.” He burst out laughing at his slip.

“Draco!”

“And you’re invited to stay over the holiday.” While a trace of laughter still remained in his voice, he looked at her with a hopeful glint in his eye.

Hermione had hoped he would ask her, especially with how she’d met with Narcissa a handful of times since befriending Draco and eventually dating him. The older witch welcomed her with a warmth that belied her coldness over the past several years. Hermione still wasn’t sure what had changed her mind, but she hoped Narcissa’s stance would influence other wizarding families still stuck to the prejudices of the past.

Still. She wanted to punish Draco just a little for distracting her.

“I’ll think about it.”

He wasn’t put out in the slightest, if the tilt of his head and the drop in his voice was any indication. Draco loved a challenge. “Is there anything I can do to help convince you?”

“That depends on how far you’re willing to go,” she replied with as much sass as she could muster.

Hermione jolted at the touch of his rough palm along the bare skin of her thigh.

“Do you trust me?” His breath fanned hot along the sensitive skin of her neck, creating a wave of goosebumps.

“You know I do.”

“Then cast a disillusionment charm around the bottom of the table.”

Heat pooled in her core as an idea of what he meant to do formed. Without any further questions, she picked up her wand and muttered her version of the incantation. Anyone looking over at her table now would only see her regulation-length skirt and knee-high stockings, legs firmly closed, of course.

After a mischievous grin and peck on her cheek, Draco slid from his chair and under the table. Hermione cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain composure, all while feeling like she was about to scream with anticipation.

Her palms slapped loudly onto the wooden surface when she felt both of Malfoy’s hands slide up her calves and push her knees apart.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that, Granger.” His voice was muffled but still clearly audible.

Fingers slid up underneath her skirt and along the outside of her thighs, before snagging the top of her knickers. She lifted herself up to help him, settling down on the edge of the chair after doing so. If she leaned back she could see Draco’s pale locks between her legs pushing closer to his destination.

At the first swipe of his tongue, she gasped and grabbed onto her quill, knuckles whitening at the pressure. Hermione was so focused on keeping quiet that she didn’t notice they were no longer alone.

“Merlin, Granger, are you alright? You look…ill.”

Pansy’s perpetually haughty voice snapped Hermione out of her daze. It was only Malfoy’s tightened grip on her knees that prevented her from standing up.

“Pansy! I’m fine, just fine, just a bit stressed, you know, essays.” Dear Circe, she was babbling. She was babbling with Draco lapping at her folds and Pansy staring at her with a growing look of suspicion.

“Okayyyy…well, I’ll join you for a bit. I have an essay to finish writing, as well.”

Before Hermione could protest, the Slytherin pulled out the chair across from her and gracefully took her seat. She ruffled her bangs before noticing the additional bag next to Hermione.

“Oh! Is Draco here?” Pansy looked around expectedly, as if her friend would pop out of the stacks at the mere mention of his name. Normally, he would, if he wasn’t already preoccupied.

“He’s,” Hermione gasped as a finger slid up inside of her, her voice pitching upward in reaction, “looking for text, a very obscure, thick text. Very thick.”

She clung to every bit of sanity she had, which just so happened to be her quill and the edge of the table. The alarm on Pansy’s face had tripled as she raked her eyes across Hermione’s figure. Realization began to dawn, eyebrows raising in shock.

“Granger. Is Draco underneath—”

“Ladies!”

Before Pansy could bring the axe down on Hermione’s neck, Blaise Zabini swung around the corner. She wanted to hex them both, then yank Draco back up and shag him senseless atop her damnable essay. How dare he put her into this awkward predicament. And why was her study nook suddenly the popular place to be? It had never been this crowded before.

To her horror, Blaise plopped into the chair next to Pansy and stretched his legs out in front of him like he intended to stay. If he’d been in the other girl’s seat, he would have kicked Draco right in his disillusioned arse.

“Granger, you’re looking a little peaked. Maybe we should go get a bite to eat.” Now Zabini was appraising her, while Pansy leveled her with what had become a look of mirthful glee.

“I’m fine, Zabini, I promise, it’s just, ah!” 

Two fingers curled just so and Hermione’s eyes nearly crossed as she flopped over in a comical imitation of someone who had just been shot.

“Cramps!” She managed to ground out between teeth grit in pleasurable agony. All she could feel was warmth and wetness and a throbbing deep inside that radiated bliss outward to each of her extremities.

“Blaise, let’s go get her a pain potion from Pomfry.”

“Salazar, I am so glad I’m not a witch.”

Hermione barely registered their voices, much less the shuffling of chairs before they were alone once more. She panted, puffs of airing flipping up the corner of her parchment.

“Well, that was fun. Have I convinced you?”

Whiskey brown eyes slid over to where Draco had reappeared looking as pleased as Crookshanks after his morning meal. All he needed to do now was lick his damnable lips. She wanted to strangle him for nearly getting them caught in her most sacred of places. Hermione was positive that Pansy knew exactly what had occurred and that she’d be hearing about it from the nosy witch later.

“You, sir, have a death wish.”

“Is that a yes? The only death I wish for is the one between your legs.”

Her laugh tinkled up from their table and floated over the shelves.

“Yes, Draco, I’ll go home with you for Christmas.”

His whoop echoed off the walls, and within moments, the library’s warden materialized and glared at the duo in a warning that sent their noses straight into their books. If she noticed that only a single pair of legs appeared to sit at the table where there should have been two, she made no mention of it. 

Madam Pince had seen far more scandalous sights in the stacks, the worst of which had still yet to come.

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 1 - Hogwarts, September 6 - Library

WC 1331

What I wouldn't give for access to handy disillusionment, silencing, and locking charms! How do these students get anything done???

Malfoy Manor's Library is 100% an accurate representation of Draco's cock, which is most assuredly very large and full of the thickest of tomes.

Cross-posted on AO3

#dramione month #dramionemonth #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

[barkrry]

athazagoraphobia - h. styles x 1dbandmember!yn masterlist

Of course she was the last one to go solo. The last one to bring out an album, the last one to showcase her own talents without the band. Part of her felt like it had all been a gift, one that she didn’t deserve at all. One that had been snatched away when she stopped cherishing it enough. And that is what happened. One Direction had gone on hiatus, and the rest of the boys had gone on to succeed. But there was always one question always mentioned whenever one of the boys succeeded.

Where was YN?

After hiatus started, the five remaining members had all promised to keep in contact on the group chat. They’d all support each other through everything. But then solo contracts were being signed, tabloids were spilling the latest details of upcoming albums. They were all getting their own versions of success.

All except YN.

The second hiatus started, YN had gone silent on social media. Her last post being one about the band. There will never be a day where I don’t think about the barriers we broke. You’ll always be my home. Goodbye isn’t forever. It had been her most liked post on all of her socials. And it was evidently clear to her when the first story broke about one of the boys signing a solo contract, that she was alone with that statement.

YN got to watch as each of her best friends, her brothers, her lover, started to succeed on their own. The group chat had been silent for a while now. Yet there wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t check it, to see if anyone was typing. And somehow, there never was. It was like the history of them, of the band had been forgotten by the other members.

It took her too long to channel that sadness, anger and sorrow into something productive. Two years of silence, two years of zero movement from YN YLN. And she was going to break the internet.

liked by louist91, hannahtownsend, zayn and 7,329,456 others

yourinstagram forgotten. coming soon.

view all 4,238,554 comments

ynfan1 OMG SHE MOVED SHE ACTUALLY MOVED

1dfan nobody panic-- NOBODY FUCKING PANIC

niallhoran can’t wait!!

She had signed a contract and fully produced a whole album, without tabloids, fans or anyone catching a whiff of it. It felt extraordinary to her, there was relief in her bones. Her brain felt empty, a warm smile spread across her lips as she watched comment after comment flood on her post. Excitement building in each of the fans.

Tommo: aye saw your post sweetheart, excited to hear your solo stuff!

Payno: ‘bout time you joined us.

N: miss you, coffee soon. X

inZayn: I know it’s been a while, but I’m really proud of you. I can’t wait to hear the album.

Maybe she hadn’t been forgotten, maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Her phone was flooded with similar texts from industry friends, people she had met while in the band but never really spoken to again. But there was just one person missing.

Yet, she knew he wasn’t the most active on social media these days. Maybe he hadn’t seen the post. Or maybe he had blocked her and she hadn’t realised. Why would she have realised? The app hadn’t been installed in two years. She tried to not let it bother her, because it shouldn’t. They had broken up for a reason. They had agreed to be friends, but even that had been reluctant. So she shouldn’t have been surprised to not hear from him.

When her lead single, It Was Fine, was released, with the music video to match, the hype surrounding her and her album intensified. Her manager, Hannah, genuinely couldn’t believe it. They had been preparing themselves for a quiet launch, a few OG fans from the band who had stuck around, sure. But nothing of the scale that they were on.

I said it was fine, I never said it didn’t hurt.

YN felt on top of the world, her own words, her own lyrics were being repeated all around the globe. By fans who had been awaiting her return. By people who had stuck by her, though she had never made a single hint that she would be returning to music. It felt surreal to her, that she was getting such a wide amount of support. Even the boys had been singing her praises in their own interviews and social media posts. And it was only then that she got the message.

H. Styles: single was good. we should talk. meet up soon? x

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x ofc #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #one direction imagine #one direction fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry #styles #reader #harry styles x yn #athazagoraphobia!universe

[catiuskaa]

new task: valentine’s day {ACTS}

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 4.408k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 2: UNDER THE STREETLIGHT}

After avoiding Seungmin like the plague all Thursday, only looking at his back when you zoned off in class, Friday arrived earlier than expected.

You hadn’t been able to concentrate at all, the thought of his sweet taste lingering in your mouth, almost letting you feel the ghost of his lips pressed against yours.

“Hello? Earth to… oh, you’re awake, Jesus.” Abril looked at you with a smile, but she was unable to hide her worried look.

“Of course I am,” you mumbled, shaking your head sideways. “What’s going on?”

“You haven’t even touched your delicious and totally-not-overcooked pasta.” Lara mentioned the cafeteria lunch as she poked it whith her fork, full of humour. “It leads to believe that you’re dealing with something far more interesting that the technical drawing homework, that’s for sure.”

You bit your lip, hesitating.

“Is it because Henry Li has been ignoring you?” Noa mentioned softly.

You blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

He’d been ignoring you? Now that she had mentioned, maybe that could’ve happened. Maybe you would’ve realized if you hadn’t been so focused on Seungmin and whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes…

…or maybe you should look for an easier name for it.

“Uh, no, he invited me to this new place today, actually,” you brushed your hair with your hand mindlessly. “But I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” You smiled at the girls, and joined in at their conversation.

After lunch, you separated from Lara and Noa, who had literature, and Abril, who had been hanging out with a guy called Jeongin from her photography club recently, and so you headed to the study room.

It was a quiet place, quieter that what you had initially expected for a high school study room. Matter of fact, you thought it was a pity that the school closed it after class, considering that in that case you wouldn’t have to walk to the public library.

You opened the door silently, finding that there were barely any students, only three or four people studying silently. You were heading towards a lonely corner so you could listen to music in a high volume without having to pay attention if it could be heard through your headphones. Or maybe, considering that it hadn’t been a lie and that you had slept like four hours maximum, you could probably rest there until the bell rang.

You snickered when you looked to your right, finding someone struggling with the technical drawing homework that had been assigned that morning, the one that Lara and Noa had been talking about.

You gently tapped the guy’s shoulder, but spoke before he even turned.

“You’re missing this incline here,” you whispered on his ear, your arms coming above his shoulders, placing your hands above his, placing the square and bevel on the right angle. “It should be seen, but with dotted lines, get it? That way the side-view makes sense.” You added with a soft giggle.

“Oh, right. T-thank you…” he mumbled, not facing you.

You brushed it off as weird, but your sleepy self wasn’t bothered enough to notice or pry, and instead smiled, ruffled his hair and settled in your cozy little corner, placing your scarf in between your arms and rested your head on it, merely “resting your eyes”, but only if a teacher happened to come and check on the students.

Seungmin stared at your sleeping figure, eyes almost wide. He felt like his heart was going to explode underneath the layers of flesh. His hands tingled, his usually warm and sweaty palms missing the comfortable coldness of yours, so soothing and relaxing.

Either you had completely gone crazy, or he had fallen asleep trying to complete the stupid assignment. He knew you were good at technical drawing, it was one of the subjects were he wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when several students started asking you for help on their papers and assignments, considering that you were one of the few who was able to receive praise from the teacher, a middle-aged man with no kind of vocation with kids or teaching, by any means.

But it had never happened when he was the one in need of help, had you ever considered the idea of helping him.

He watched you, puzzled, as he had never done before, and maybe it would be the first time of many because Seungmin found himself liking what he was seeing, dare I say mesmerized by the image before him.

By you.

Your sleepy figure was as calm as he had ever seen from you, sleeping with little to no care in the world. Your hair remained stuck in a ponytail, which allowed Seungmin to notice that it left the skin of your neck visible, and despite the voice on his head saying that it was a behaviour quite like a man from the Modern Ages, just being so fixated at that small bit of skin, he couldn’t help but feel bashfully amazed.

Suddenly, he noticed you licked your lips, your eyes still closed and your small smile never faltering, but that made something start to flutter in his stomach, as if a whole lot of butterflies had been awaken at the sight of you, tranquil, and sweet, and cute, and he forced himself to stop looking at you abruptly, wondering why he had done that in the first place.

Licking your lips only made Seungmin aware of how dry his were, and action plus the thought of your lips immediately brought back what had happened on Wednesday.

Crazy. He’d gone completely crazy.

He felt his hand slowly approach his lips and he grazed them with his fingers, almost able to taste your chapstick back on his lips. Because he had been able. All Wednesday night. And a small part of him wanted more of it.

He blushed, scratching his eyes. He hadn’t slept shit, his mind betraying him every time he attempted to close his eyes instantly going back to the memory of how you stared at him after your kiss, dark pupils, and red lips, and so ridiculously gorgeous that it made Seungmin wonder why whenever he saw you he resorted to his first line in code: being mean.

He never used that side with anyone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, because small, teasing and slightly unhinged Kim Seungmin had tried to be himself in middle school, and… well.

Let’s just say that it didn’t work like expected.

But everyone loved dorky, funny and sweet Seungmin. Even with the difference with grades, that had definetely not been appreciated in his early years, nowadays people would see that as a part of him, and he recieved praise for it, not only from teachers, but also nice classmates, who sometimes went to seek help from him.

He just needed to pretend for a bit. Smile here and there, and put on a sheepish act of bashfulness that despite it not being natural, it wasn’t totally bad. It wasn’t like middle school.

But then you came in the picture.

Something about you made Seungmin want to tease you. To see you finally look at him after battling in your head if you even should, and then, sometimes when you were mad enough, you’d glare at him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Your cheeks flushed in anger that creeped up your body, how you looked at him through your lashes or how you’d tease him back. The first time you had done that, his brain’s chemistry had changed, he was sure of that.

He didn’t care about the mean remarks, and that now seemed almost obvious, considering what had happened almost two days ago in the school bus.

But it got impossible to miss when Seungmin noticed your sleepy self shivering in your slumber. With a mental groan, careful of not making any kind of loud noise in the study room, he slowly got closer to your corner, and tried to close the windows near it. And failed, because the stupid windows were old and rusty, only able to move them a bit.

He bit his lip, arguing in his head. Would that be enough? No, it probably wasn’t, right? Yeah, it couldn’t be. Considering that you always wore thin clothing, always borrowing your mates’ jackets…

…it couldn’t possibly hurt to do a bit more, right?

Seungmin approached you further, and shook a hand close to your face, but you were dead, as still as a fallen tree, despite the sunlight that enetered throught the windows glowing on your face, the Sun in winter, that brought little to no warmth, made you shine in his eyes.

He’d see you in the public library a couple of hours later. It didn’t mean anything. He could probably tease you for sleeping in school later. Yeah. And then he’d ask for his jacket back.

Seungmin was lost in his thoughts as he carefully settled his jacket over your shoulders, and he froze when you sighed deeply, surrounded by a familiar warmth and a cozy scent that you didn’t know you had missed or needed until then, but you didn’t wake up.

He blinked when he noticed your phone in your hand, the screen suddenly turning on. He giggled at your wallpaper, which had a silly joke on it and a funny doodle of a banana.

But then his eyes trailed down to the notification that had made the phone turn on.

[3 new messages from: henry li🫧]

> sorry i didn’t get to see u yesterday, had to sort smth out!

>guys.its.totally.a.real.address.wdym.lol

> it’s the address for later, shortcake 😉❤️

…huh?

Seungmin blinked once. Twice. Nah, his glasses had to be deceiving him. Then, another notification popped up.

> can’t wait to see you ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

He winced silently.

Ugh. What a cringy choice of emojis.

Did you really like this guy?

He frowned, going back to his place in the study room.

Ugh.

He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care? That wasn’t his business. Never was, never would be. Not like he was interested. Pffft, no. Not at all. Yeah, nah. That kiss had been a one time thing. Totally. 100%. He wasn’t thinking about it again. Nope. Nor did he want to kiss you again. Not in a chance.

Just… ugh.

It was just that… no. Scratch that. No further comments.

He sighed as he went back to his work, feeling a sudden inspiration hit him as he took out a blank paper for the English class valentine’s assignment, but not before he looked at you again, then shook his head, turning the music back on in his headphones. He started writing, drafting, and throwing papers away, getting slightly desperate at his perfectionism.

He sighed. His eyes trailed off towards you.

Slowly, words started to flow in his head. Pretty sentences, things that he had kept hidden in the back of his mind. Maybe it could be good to let it all out. It couldn’t hurt. Yeah.

So he stared writing. Vomiting word after word. And he finished earlier than expected, with two papers.

One was perfect for the english assignment. It was boring and dull enough to be handed in for a school work, but good enough for his perfectionism.

And the other… was something different.

Something that had only happened because you were there, in front of him.

He stood up, letter on his hand. He leaned against the table you were sleeping in, and settled the jacket further on your shoulders. He sighed, grabbing a pen from his pencil case, folding the letter and signed it.

Maybe it was a bad idea, he thought as he picked up his stuff from the table and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He looked at your figure once more before heading out.

It had been to check if you were still asleep, of course.

Just to check.

Yeah.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Your phone vibrated in your hand again.

And again.

And again.

With a groan, you silently accepted that there was no way you could fool an inanimate object into believing that you were still asleep.

But when you yawned and looked around and didn’t find the posters in your room, but rather a whole bunch of tables and chairs, your eyes widened.

It hadn’t been your alarm but a phone call that had awoken you.

“Y-yeah?” You mumbled, picking up the call and quickly taking your backpack and scarf and rushing out of the study room, taking a quick scan and making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind.

“I’m heading to the club now, shortcake.” A low voice greeted. “Are you getting ready?”

Who…?

“H-henry?” You frowned slightly.

You heard him snicker through the other side. “Yeah?”

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“N-nothing! Nothing, I, uh, I was just doing my make up. Y-you know.”

What? You frowned, even more this time. No, that didn’t make any sense. You always blabbered about how you never did your make up for clubbing because the one you owned was cheap and never stayed on anyways.

“Sure, yeah.”

It didn’t seem like he had noticed.

“You can head there before me. I’ll go there eventually, yeah?”

You heard him snicker on the other side of the phone call. “Ok, baby.” He cleared his throat, stuttering a bit. “Y-yeah, I mean, I’ll uh… get there in a bit. Don’t rush.”

Only then you felt that the wind from outside wasn’t freezing your bones like usual. You squinted at the jacket you were wearing.

“Henry, did you…?” But he hung up.

It probably was him. Yeah. That’s why he had called you. To make sure you’d wake up.

Besides, there were little to no people who’d do such a kind gesture towards you, and even if the jacket was pretty much your style and it smelled like heaven, it didn’t feel like something any of the girls would keep around.

So, why didn’t it made you feel giddy that Henry had given you his jacket?

You kept on running through the hallways and catched the bus that was usually there for students who had extracurricular classes, unlucky people who had to stay in school late in Fridays. You never had, using Fridays to be a bit lazy or to start homework sooner just to hand it in earlier than Seungmin.

Oh.

Friday.

Seungmin.

The library.

You bit your nails, staring through the window.

Would he wait there for long?

What was he going to do once he figured you weren’t going to show up?

Were you… feeling guilty?

No… that… that couldn’t be, you chuckled dryly. Mean decisions against Kim Seungmin didn’t spend too much time on the judgmental side of your brain. You just… teased him back. And he’d take it. And double it. And so on.

So why did this feel too mean?

Could it be because of whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes?

Could the fact that it had been the best thing that had happened in a long while?

Well, fine.

Not just ‘thing’.

A kiss.

And for fuck’s sake, what kiss.

You groaned and grunted, sprinting home as soon as the bus stopped.

Why did it always have to be him?

You entered your room and burst open your closet. The jacket was cool, you thought. And if you were going to see Henry, you could just wear it and hand it back to him in the club.

It was vintage, but its warmth engulfed you as if it had been handmade. Its funky designs and patterns looked cute, and its grey color contrasted well with it. You chose the first dress you saw, a tight black dress with no sleeves that you would’ve discarded as too short if you had more time, but it wasn’t exactly something you could’ve bragged about.

Jacket, dress, high socks, boots, wallet, phone, keys, headphones… yeah. You nodded, checking all of the boxes in your mental list, and started hurriedly walking to the address he had sent.

You hoped you weren’t going to be too late.

[☆★🌷★☆]

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

“The number you are trying to call is turned off or out of coverage. Please, leave your message after the—”

You hang up, tired of hearing that mechanic voice over and over again.

You looked around you, and there was nothing that looked like a club. You had tried to enter the building that the address lead to, but it hadn’t got well.

A strange figure opened a small window and gave you a look, almost disgusted. It took you a second to understand that they were wearing a mask, with dark lace and other colours. But just when you were about to speak, the window slammed close.

You blinked, puzzled. Where the fuck was Henry sending you? What kind of club was this?

You had started to roam around the building, trying to call him —and failing misserably, because the damn guy couldn’t pick up the fucking phone for the life of him—, but now you were starting to run out of ideas.

It was past 12pm, your legs shivered with every slight wind that swooshed your way, and there was no one that was going to pick up the phone. Not Henry, that ridiculous imbecile, not Lucas, who always bragged about having his phone in night mode, so nothing would get to him until morning, and not the girls, because Noa had her phone turned off, Atenea was most likely sleeping, Abril and Lara hadn’t picked up either, and your list of close friends who could possibly pick up was… that.

And no one was picking up the fucking phone.

You were about to keep on ranting about how disgustingly bad this was turning out to be, but you heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, but didn’t find the source. With a frown, you walked to the building again

Placing your hand on one of the windows, who were dark and almost impossible to see through, you could notice that in the dim light from what could be seen outside, Henry was well entertained with a certain kind of company, so much that he couldn’t even pick up your phone.

You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the tinted glass. Of course. Yeah. That made total sense. It was Henry, after all. He had always been known to be kind of an asshole anyways. It couldn’t possibly come out as a surprise the fact that he actually was.

You shook your head and mentally mocked him and the blond girl he was kissing.

Henry Li could go to Hell.

Guess there was nothing left to do now. You had dumped Seungmin, and Henry had dumped you. It was an ass move over an ass move. Maybe you kinda deserved it.

But then your thoughts ended in a halt, because you swore you could feel a shadow starting to follow you from a distance.

They were behind you, but not too close, and due to their hoodie it was imposible to distinguish their face.

So you started walking. Turning left. Right. Left again. Right. Just kept on walking. Don’t look behind you. They’d probably just leave. This had to be your imagination, 100%.

But when you took a peak, the silhouette was not only still behind you, slowly walking towards you, but a slight bit closer this time.

You swallowed dry, gulped, even. Your heart tightened in your chest. What kind of joke was this? Your eyes were tearing up. You were tired, and this was mental. Adrenaline rumped through your body, and even if you were already lost, you kept on walking.

You took your phone from your pocket. Think, think, think. Who could you call? Who could pick up at one am? You scrolled down your list of contacts, until for a reason you don’t fully get, your eyes stopped at a certain name.

—> seungmeannie

It couldn’t possibly hurt to try… right?

You sniffed almost silently, and pressed call.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

You started crying a bit louder, unable to hold it back.

“Eh, hi…?”

“S-seungmin!” You sobbed, smiling. It was the first time in your life you had been that happy just from being able to hear his voice, raspy and low.

“W-what?” He stopped talking, and you guessed that it was because he hadn’t figured out who was calling him so late at night. “Do you know what time it is, you fun-sized dingus?” He groaned sleepily at the phone.

You bit your lip and sniffed.

“Wait. Are you… crying?” His tone had changed.

“I-i’m sorry about t-this eve-ening.” You sobbed, failing to hold back the tears, hugging the jacket that was still on your shoulders.

“Are you drunk, little one?” You never thought your shoulders could relax as fast as they had when his soft tone of voice called you that stupid nickname.

“N-no, I… I went to this stupid club, with-“

“With Henry, yeah.” The way he said his name, as if he wanted to put that stupid bitch in a box and send him to the end of the world took you by surprise.

“B-but um, he’s not picking up my phone and I…” you gulped. Taking a peek behind you, you shivered. “I think someone’s following me.”

“Wait, what?” Seungmin had never stood up from bed as fast as he had done that night. “Where are you?” He asked to the phone as he randomly picked a sweater and his glasses, biting his lip as he struggled to put on his shoes.

“I… I don’t know.” You sobbed. “I started walking away so he’d go, but it didn’t work.” You mumbled, sniffing. You felt so stupid.

“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” It was the first time in the whole afternoon that you felt like that statement could be true. Because Seungmin was going to help you. “Don’t hang up. Tell me what buildings can you see. Try heading away from small alleys. I’ll find you.”

Seungmin rushed out of his appartment, not before scribbling down what was happening in a post it note and left it on his mother’s bedside table.

“T-there are some restaurants, but they’re all closed.” You started, dubious as how was this going to work. “There’s a road to my left.”

“Can you name any of the restaurants, little one?” Seungmin had a hunch, and he huffed, sprinting to the plaza closest to his appartment.

“I just passed by a Mexican, I think.” You sniffed, Seungmin’s soothing voice working like a charm and calming you down slowly. “In front of me, I think this is a Japanese… it’s called Ginza.”

Seungmin chuckled, feeling relief flooding his body. “Y-yeah, ok! I- god, yes, I know where you are. Keep walking straight ahead. There should be a park, right?” He started running, hiding the fact that he’d have to rush and make the usual fifteen minutes it could take him to arrive where you were and make them five.

He needed to see you and make sure you were safe.

“I… shit, yeah! I can see it!” You went back to crying, a smile planted in your features.

“I’m almost there. You’re doing so well, little one.”

You felt your cheeks getting warmer at that. Walking a bit faster, you looked behind you, finding that the silhouette was still there.

But Seungmin was close. Seungmin said everything would be fine.

“S-seungmin?” You mumbled at the phone, wanting to hear his voice, so soothing and warm.

“Under the streetlight, silly.”

You heard the beep that sounded when Seungmin ended the call, but he was there, tangible, a couple of meters away from you.

You chuckled, happy to see him for the first time ever, and crying away the pent up stress and worry, you ran off to him, and clung your arms around his neck tightly, unbothered at the need to stand on the tips of your toes to do so.

Seungmin stuttered, still panting from the marathon he had ran to get there, 100% baffled at this. But it was ok. You were there. You were safe.

“T-they’re still behind me.” You whispered against his chest.

He could feel your nervousness on your tone, how scared you were judging by how strongly your arms closed behind his neck, and hesitated for a second before hugging you back, his arms pulling you closer by your lower back, keeping you grounded and so weirdly safe in his grasp, and it felt so strangely comforting coming from him that your eyes swelled with more tears.

You couldn’t see or feel the person behind you anymore, but Seungmin did, somewhat clearly.

The only thing that his mind made up that moment is that for the person to leave, they’d have to believe you two did know each other.

And Seungmin’s heart beated loudly in his chest when your grasp loosened and you stood back on your feet, allowing him to see how your lip trembled, how you were holding back tears and how you looked at him with a million emotions hidden in the colour of your eyes. He had never seen you cry before.

His hands itched to touch you again, a sudden need to comfort you that overwhelmed him.

So he did.

His hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears, and he pecked your lips softly, smiling at your baffled face. His arms engulfed you in a comforting hug that smelled so much like the jacket you were wearing.

He looked behind you, and the silhouette was nowhere to be found. As if it had never been there before.

“It’s ok.” Seungmin whispered in your ear. “I’m here now. You’re safe. They’re gone, yeah?” His arms rested on your shoulders as his slender hands stroked your hair. “No one’s gonna hurt you now, pretty.”

And you started to cry on his shoulder, because not only then you realized how bad you had needed a hug, and not even the fact that it had been a hug from him that you had secretly yearned for, but because none of your excuses made sense now.

There was no ‘fake’ or ‘real’ Seungmin.

Whatever he was, fake or not, stood in front of you as he hugged you under the streetlight.

And you sighed as he cooed at you softly, because deep down you had known for a while.

It was time you came to terms with it.

[☆★🌷★☆]

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #soft hours #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin #skz #stray kids seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin headcanons #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #stray kids fic #skz fic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #skz x you #skz fluff #skz x reader #kim seungmin fic

[transmutationisms]

Repeat anon from before talking about bodily superiority and piss <3 I can't believe you picked up SO spot on. I've been reading Kropotkin's Mutual Aid for a couple years, revisited it the other day, and I owe that exact read of Succession to the dude. What you said about the show presenting a sharp analysis of the characters' ethical motivations tracks with me too. I did get ahead of myself tho, 100%. I get your point now, Succession really has refrained from telling a clear cohesive politic to imagine different worlds, like anarchism or communism. Came to my next conclusion more after chewing on your reply: its core philosophy runs incompatible to liberation. This has been stuck in my head since I heard it, Jesse Armstrong in Controlling the Narrative for the S3 finale goes, "People's essential selves don't change. In a way that's what makes drama and choices interesting." I do witness that bleed throughout the show. I love that the writers put capitalism and fascism under a microscope through the characters' intimate, erotic relationships with each other. But the thing is, they tell us stories over and over of their failures to change. Like, if Succession's a tragedy about characters stuck in unbreakable cycles of failure, then is it also a tragedy that considers capitalism and possibly all forms of domination unbreakable cycles, too? If so, not a cute vibe! Genuine Q that lingers since day 1, that I don't think the show answers... yet. Unless Waystar crashes at the end with no reiteration in sight, I wouldn't be surprised if the show sticks that landing more firm for the big finale. At best I could read a core story of Succession being that the characters' circumstances (nuclear family, corporation, capitalism) keep setting them up for tragedy precisely because of their more basic senses of cooperation, and the show's input ends there. And I'd love that, honestly. But I have a feeling the show will bring us to a more hopeless place, I only don't know where yet.

ok i knew it.... yeah kropotkin had such a major influence on basically all left-leaning understandings of evolutionary theory. i mean prior to him the options were basically bourgeois darwinian malthusianism or some strain of lamarckism, which latter was 1) increasingly hereditarian anyway, 2) not emphatically structured around 'natural selection', and 3) fundamentally drawing from sensationalist psychology, which meant moral sense tended to be presented as a result of habituation rather than as a rational social interest. so you can see why kropotkin was such a game-changer for anyone invested in defending any version of evolution-by-natural-selection as a non-teleological, non-theistic, materialist view of nature---but without the addition of british capitalism lol.

anyway, to answer your actual question: yeah, this is a huge tension in the show imo, and it follows from it being a huge tension in marx. in interviews jesse has quoted the marx line right out of '18th brumaire' about circumstances constraining men, and talked about how he doesn't think people fundamentally change. there are obvious reasons why, in that particular text, marx was especially pessimistic about the possibility for people to defy their circumstances lol---1849 was his case study in history 'repeating itself' because of (what he saw as) essentially the same class tensions as in 1799 rearing their heads again. but at the same time, marx's entire political project was predicated on the notion that true revolution is not just possible but expected, as an outcome of the historical development of the productive forces in conjunction with increasing labour estrangement and alienation.

frankly i don't think the show will end with waystar destructing or anyone meaningfully changing their social, political, or economic positions. and this would be fine, IF the read is, like you said, that the continued imposition of structures of capitalist production constrains the characters to acting in this selfish, dominance-seeking, antisocial way. like, i'm fine with the notion that the entire show is a tragedy and always has been, and that the characters are incapable of change as long as their circumstances remain the same. but i agree with you that there's a risk of implying (or outright stating, lol) that people are simply and intrinsically incapable of meaningful change for reasons predating capitalism and grounded in some kind of bio-psychological discourse. i would hate this ending and this moral lol and i have been hoping for 3 and a half seasons now that the writers' room is too smart to take us there. we really will have to see how these last few episodes play out.

i'd add that i think this sense of hopelessness and helplessness can add to the show's psychological writing, for example in the cynicism and nihilism of roman. roman essentially sees capitalism as an alien force he can't control or counter in any meaningful way, so why bother? which is certainly true to how many people (even literal billionaires) feel in the face of such a complex and entangled system. and it's not like i expect the show to end with some kind of raising of revolutionary consciousness, but i also don't want it to end with a total denial of the possibility of human cooperation and mutual aid as governing behavioural principles in different circumstances. i don't believe that as a species we're doomed to the way logan roy capitalism encourages us to act, and it'll really annoy me if that's where the show lands after all this time lol.

that said, i do think no one on this show is escaping their circumstances in any material way. i don't think any of them actually want out (certainly not the kids, tom, greg, or the old guard) and i do believe that the broad outlines of the ending have been pretty clear since day one. whether or not they keep waystar they will continue to operate in logan's world because his empire was always just one articulation of this broader capitalist discourse on domination and 'survival of the fittest'. even if a character on this show tried to cash out and dip they'd still be caught in this global financial web, and none of them are inclined to do that anyway because [class interests and family business]. which is i guess to say that i don't think we will see any of these characters change on a deeper level, but i think it's possible for the show to end that way and still frame it in a way that allows for alternate readings of human behaviour and sociability IF placed in different material circumstances. we'll see whether jesse and the writers have the subtlety to stick that landing, though. ultimately yes, the show is a character study and not a political polemic, but i will be really very irritated if it turns out to be a character study premised on a fundamentally reactionary, essentialist understanding of 'human nature' and social behaviour lol.

#blood sacrifice

[oldwebmlp]

From: http://web.archive.org/web/20020224000007/http://members.tripod.com/mlpflipside/flipside.html

Text from page below the cut:

In every world, there is an anti-world. Every planet has its cosmos, as Heaven has Hell, each world, each galaxy, has its darker matter. There is no purity without poisen, there is no good without the reflections of evil. As with every smile, there are tears. For every act of good, a crime is committed. For every child born, some unfortunate person dies. And this, my friends, is the flipside.

In a world identical to our Earth, a war takes place. Human lives are of no importance anymore. Only one thing seems to matter now. Death.

Defeated, the old wizard fell numbly to the ground, his chest heaving in an attempt to grab at air his lungs could not reach. He turned his eyes to the sky, to the clouds that had rolled overhead, to the threatening storm. His limbs were weak now; his time was drawing to an end, as were the lives of every other creature who had the misfortune to have made their homes in this cruel, evil land. He had tried with all his might, power and heart to overcome the evil, but science and human technology had overcome magic long, long before. Selfish humans had wanted it all....and they all knew that the planet would not be able to sustain a third world war, yet fight they did. The results had been disastrous, yet foreseen. Weakly, the wizard stood to his feet. I have not been able to save the planet, he thought to himself, but I shall try to help it grow again. His eyes were growing heavy. He glanced around at the few animals who were still alive. Many were weak like himself, fighting for life, fighting a death that man had inflicted on them. But, to the old Wizard's astonishment, one creature ran through the haze, head high, mane flowing in the wind. It whinnied, laughing in the face of death.Why! It was a mere horse! One of the fallen warrior's trusty steeds, no doubt!....it had tricked man's machines of death like no other had. As the wizard felt life sipping away,  the image of the pony remained...and he made one final spell. The world would be reborn. It would grow beautiful and strong. But humans will not enter it's realms. They will not hate and destroy as they had done so before. They would be only a myth, a figment of imagination, a flicker in a wise creatures eye, a distant memory of a history that should never have been. The creatures to rule this world would be caring yet strong, loving yet powerful. Equines. Horses and Ponies, Pegasi, Unicorns, creatures of myth alongside those of reality, side by side, together...in peace. The wizard lost his battle with life the second the spell was finalised.

This world shall be known as Equin.

Welcome to a land that is not all it may seem, Welcome to a world in which reality is dream, Welcome to a dreamscape where mysteries unfold, Open your heart and listen to the stories that are told. This place may seem so far away, far in another time, But if you close your eyes, and listen, you'll hear a music that's so fine, It will appear, if you believe it, in the blinking of the eye, Ponyland will be with me until the day I die. ~ Selena Thomas

Warning!! This site isn't your average My Little Pony fansite. Or at least, I sure hope it isn't. I enjoy writing stories and drawing pictures, but have a rather dark nature at times and sometimes what I write may not be everybody's cup of tea. While there is obviously no pornography or anything of that nature here, I view Ponyland, er, I mean "Equin" (all shall be revealed), as a magical and rather gothic place. While they live now in 'peace' and 'harmony', the foundings of Equin were not always so tranquil. My webpage focuses around my version of Ponyland, and the personalities of the ponies within it are all my own ideas. There is very little 'official' fandom here. I found the 'real' Ponyland too....unrealistic.

"Why do you insist on wearing that ghastly thing?" Trojan asked her, his eyes on the thick, coarse rope that knotted crudely around her dainty neck. She turned away, her eyes focused on the ground. "It reminds me." She said, her voice soft as the winter breeze that enveloped them. "Reminds you of what?" Trojan frowned, nuzzling her, feeling her sad emotion. She turned towards him, then. Her eyes burned into his own, eyes that had seen galaxies explode from mere stardust; eyes that had seen the world before time began. Unicorn eyes. Sad eyes. "It reminds me that I managed to escape."

#old web #tripod #mlp #screenshot #queue

[mdhwrites]

I really love your post about why the anti-discrimination theme falls flat on TOH.

Honestly, applied to Amphibia, the issue is taken care of. From S1, we saw how frogs are treated and the injustice and inequality in the whole hierarchy. For example, despite being called Frog Valley, there are no frog majors but toad majors like Toadstool and he used to be awful and greedy.

Then we have the toad lords and soldiers who subjugate towns like Grime used to instead of protecting them. And the newts are either annoyingly arrogant like Duckweed or inside their own world, that kind of is explained in how Newtopia looks so fancy while the rest of Amphibia is medieval and surrounded by monsters.

Most importantly, many characters have a point of view or conflict related to the hierarchy and the state of their society. The Dinner and The Three Armies showed the biases of Grime, Beatrix, Hop Pop, Tritonio, and others against each other but instead of leaving it like that to be pessimistic or not addressing it, all Amphibia faced those issues to create a more harmonious and just society for everyone.

Okay so two things first. 1: Context for Amphibia fans is that I did a blog discussing how TOH accidentally discriminates against the demons of the demon realm and only promotes the most human of them, thus making a theme of anti-discrimination... Rough to put it mildly. Link here. 2: I don't think Amphibia explicitly has a theme of anti-discrimination either. It touches on it in ways but those ways are mostly due to one of its other core themes: Community. That's not all surprising either because it's hard to talk about community without also talking about inclusivity to those communities and allowing those communities to at least have a personality.

Now yes, you're absolutely right that the end of the series actually explicitly discusses the actual bigotry that each culture has towards each other in admittedly not my favorite but a fine episode. I actually want to expand from just the literal text though for why I think Amphibia does such a good job at not demonizing any of the races despite the fact that two of them may as well exist to be villainous. After all, the toads and the newts are often adversaries to the main characters. Wasn't that a problem for TOH?

Yes... Which makes it a good thing that the first adversary for Anne is the frogs.

Actually deep diving how Amphibia handles race, inclusivity, etc. like that is FASCINATING. You could probably do an entire college essay based solely on this one aspect because the show actually portrays multiple versions of communities and acceptance into them masterfully. I'm going to only briefly touch on each but I could probably say more on all of them and this actually includes humans as well which arguably might be Amphibia's one stumble on the issue but it's not a big one.

Let's start with that inflammatory line though. Of all the races, the frogs are actually just explicitly the most racist. They are against ANYTHING they don't know. Even other humans after Anne are entirely based on their perception of Anne. It actually takes Anne returning and showing fallibility for Sasha to become her own person to the community who is on par with Anne despite all she's done for them. Before then, the closer you are to her in their eyes, the more acceptable you are. They explicitly state this with Marcy. Otherwise, you're just a weird thing to potentially be purged because you are dangerous for being unknown. This is explicitly something Anne has to overcome, including one episode where she becomes popular by becoming more frog-like through her zits. The Plantars are the closest to being progressive in the town and even Polly can get swept up into mob mentality when the people get ready to take down Marcy (if I'm remembering the joke right).

The upside to the frogs is supreme loyalty to each other. While Toadstool is self serving and selfish, even he eventually figures out that he likes the frog way of thinking. The community you are a part of means the world to you. It is arguably the most important thing besides family. They play at war with each other because no one can actually hate someone in this community. Once you are in, you have the protection of ALL. It's just getting that acceptance is hard.

So even the race we spend the most time with is actually still flawed in some way. It is not perfect. How about the one that theoretically is the most evil? One could argue the Newts but that's more got to do with the combined culture of Amphibia which we only get Andrias as a main show of besides the one episode in the past. I do not want to say Andrias represents all newts, even if his ideas are still obviously in the current culture of newts, hence why I won't say they're the most antagonistic.

The toads on the other hand are fascinating because while they are brutal conquerors and willing to subjugate others, they're also theoretically the most inclusive. They are the closest to a meritocracy in Amphibia. If you can prove your battle prowess and ability to lead, even a gangly weirdo from another world can rise quickly and take a role of power. However, this culture is also part of why they're such a joke/a problem. The passionate rise to the top while the grunts are mostly going to be complacent and the toads still push a "Got mine, fuck you" mentality so that once a job is done, selfishness takes hold. This is why they're good at taking a city but bad at keeping it because they lack discipline because as a community, they don't have either a national ideal to work for like the newts or each other like the frogs. Each one proves themselves but that also makes each of them in competition with one another. It also explains why they're willing to subjugate a people because if they were worth their own lives, they would be able to resist.

Grime is actually the exception here from everything we can see. Beatrix even takes a loss from a frog better than Grime. Grime is different from a lot of Toads though and seems to hold a more personal need to prove himself, rather than that being strictly personal. He gets knocked down lower on defeat and rises higher in triumph. It takes longer than it likely would have with other captains for him to recognize that Sasha's ability to get rid of her guard is impressive and deserving of re-evaluation because he's not willing to admit he's wrong. He is the one toad who will take a city and stay vigilant because he is stubborn enough to not want to lose those gains no matter the cost, hence why he seems to constantly look for a status quote he can keep a hold of rather than seeking endless glory. Sprig challenges that most explicitly and so he lashes out with anger rather than the admiration that he should. The admiration that the toads who Anne first met liked in her when they thought she could be ruthless and strong. Those toads in fact accepted her WAY faster than even potentially the Plantars as Sprig needed his life to be saved first.

Next let's talk about the newts. We get weirdly more time with their society than even the toads but I don't know how much I'd say we actually learn about it which is an issue with Marcy as well. Buuuut this actually is in line with their culture. They're more of a melting pot where they are both more enlightened in that everyone gets a fair shake but they're much more rigid. It's probably the closest to modern America we get where you CAN apply for an important job but you need the connections, open doors, etc. like that to get it. You can prove yourself but it will only get you so far and people will only care so much.

A large part of this is actually in how the newts specifically treat Marcy. Where as someone so high in the ranks for toads would be respected and have friends simply due to being so outstanding, see Sasha, Marcy has a position but no acceptance beyond that. Respect but no friends. They are willing to use her because she is the most useful tool for a job but they aren't going to act like they'reclose with her for that. Not without, sadly enough, a reason to. Olivia keeps her at arm's length, the other advisors don't really seem to actually have a relationship with her but Andrias does because she fits into his plans best if she trusts him.

Sprig also gets to demonstrate this because his interesting worldview gives him a position in the society but no special treatment besides getting that position. He still has to prove himself in all the same ways and while some quirkiness is allowed, you must keep THEIR peace. Even the frogs allow for more individuality once you are in their community. But again, it's a little rough when it comes to the newts because Marcy isn't actually a look into their culture like Sasha is for the toads as she never gets episodes just about her in Newtopia like Sasha does with Grime. I'd be intrigued about what the journal potentially changes about this.

ANWAYS, for the last one we have the Thai community and humanity. Or more so the former. I don't know if there's a unifying concept for humanity as a whole, which is befitting the treatment of the trio's mix of perspectives as well, but more a theme of optimism. That people may be lazy and a bit self serving but most people's hearts are in the right place. That they care.

The Thai community is the only one I really want to talk about because Thai Temple is admittedly one of my favorite episodes of Amphibia period. As someone who grew up in Alaska, I actually related to Anne not seeing the beauty of her culture really well. There's a highway in Alaska that sandwiches you perfectly besides mountain cliffs and the ocean and it is GORGEOUS. Aaaand I stopped caring about it because it became routine. I closed my mind to it. Like nature will accept you though if you are willing to give it the time, so is the Thai Community at the temple. If you show interest, interest will be shown back. That's why the Plantars are easily adopted into it because the people there want to share who they are, they're probably just not used to people actually being interested.

There's more I could say that dips more into the community aspects but how they treat Anne, Oum and Bea are a different subject (all of it positive and makes me sad as a straight white dude who doesn't keep religion honestly) but yeah, I hope this shows how Amphibia looks at acceptance, community and how different people treat those who are different in varying ways. Like I said, this is also still mostly scratching the surface as probably a lot more could be said about each. Even the original ask brings up how the walls of Newtopia cuts the newts off from nature itself while somewhere like Wartwood has to live in harmony with it.

End of the day though, it's still almost an incidental biproduct that no one in Amphibia feels half baked. Every society has a purpose and role to its storytelling and that helps make it a more cohesive work with a lot less accidents than be interpreted in awful ways. Seriously, if you have not watched Amphibia, GO WATCH AMPHIBIA.

I can guaranty the show will accept you, even if you don't love it like me.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#amphibia #amphibia critical

[artichokefunction]

the agent walks up to the kitchen staffs door, and it holds its wrist up to the ID scanner. it is let inside, no problem. that chip in its organic arm is one of the few actual wireless pieces of tech it has installed onboard, because those chips are easy to write to and easy to erase and are a very non-obtrusive system. can't hack someone through their ID, and those are so easy to fake. you don't really know why they're still in such common use. makes your job easier, you suppose. the kitchen staff work around the agent, and the agent slips through them.

it gets weird looks, they know they're in some danger, but no one ends up hurt. it stresses you out, a little bit, to see your agent around civilians. you dont really know why. or, well, you know what it can do. you don't know what it won't do. it's impossible to test for the absence of an occurrence. that's not the phrase. it's impossible to prove that something will never happen. that's it. no wait, that doesn't sound right either. whatever. you are not afraid of the agent, it is your friend. these random civilians are not it's friends. as far as you know. but it is polite, as far as you can tell, as it moves through the crowded kitchen. you check that it has access to the latest version of your little map of this building, and it does. and then it proves that it does because it goes the long way around and takes the door that leads to the staff hallways, and not the fancy ass dining area. it's following the route it needs to, no issue. tiny issue. it needs to get through two locked doors. issue so small it is microscopic, because all these locks are ID activated. lol. you scrape the biometric data you need from the security network, and update it's chip. and it's let through without issue. no wait. a little warning popup about how one person apparently went through one door twice in one direction. valid concern. you delete the warning. lol. the agent makes it to the room without issue.

inside of the room is a slender young man with short, greasy hair and a jumpy air to him. the agent startles him a lot by just popping up silently in the corner of his office. this is the client, and not the target. your view from the agents visor keeps wandering, because it's a bit bored. the client, Petra, asks you a question, out loud. well, he asks the agent a question, but it's not really listening. you respond via text, same channel that he hired you on.

"So. You're... agent Mandible?"

the codename you're currently using. [yes yes. where is the target? thought there was a job to do.]

you do not need to be this rude, but also it's kinda fun, watching the fear on his face, watching him puzzle the pieces together entirely incorrectly, because he whispers "Ah, so you're a robot..." under his breath in a way he thinks you won't hear. lol? even if one of you was a robot, you would be able to hear that. this guy is a fool. a fool who is paying you to kill his superior. it might actually be his dad, you didn't pry enough to find out. he has composed himself enough to tell you what room the target is in.

"I don't think I need to tell you how to get there, given that you found me just fine." he shuffles his feet, and visibly struggles to maintain eye contact. he feels he needs to be polite, apparently. "You arrived at the perfect time, he should be asleep for the next 15 minutes or so..." he trails off, and then turns to look out a window, hands behind his back, all fuckin formal. the agent is out of there as soon as the talking is over, and you've sent it on the updated map. you check on the targets room remotely. holy shit. the door lock isn't even engaged. he left it open. there are two cameras in his room. one is completely off, he requested that? lol. the other is not off, but it is on standby mode, it should alert and start recording when it detects movement. getting past that specific trick is not brainlessly easy, but it's not impossible either. you just want it to look untampered with. or- wait. it only needs to look untampered for the text ten minutes or so, while no-one's looking too hard, probably. you get it hacked, it's a good enough job. as good as it needs to be. they won't have footage of the incident. now you get to watch the agent do it's part of the job, from its perspective, no less. it takes a moment to consider something. medium of dispatch, maybe? oh, yeah. it gets out its knife. hand over his mouth, blade into his neck, up into the skull. simple and silent. kinda messy and gruesome also. the poor cleaning staff, that is not a cheap carpet. at least that desk seems very blood-proof, with how excessively shiny it is. the agent wipes its knife on the targets sleeve, and then it is out of there, along the new route you've sent it, down the quiet staff hallways but not the same ones as earlier. you leave your cam hack in place, might as well, and you text the client and tell him [it is done.] which is very edgy of you, you admit, but it's appropriate for this job, probably.

hmm. there's something to ponder there, about the aesthetics of death. guns make the process of creating death much more efficient, they're machines, they're optimized. using your own hand weapons takes the degree of separation out of it. you're much closer to the violence you're doing. you, in the general grammatical case, your personal hands are still pretty clean, overall. well, ok, no. degrees of separation, again. you are paid to be the middleman between the person who wants someone dead and the person who does the killing. person is here. you wave it into the truck, and then you drive away, out of this parking lot.

[do you want more hand weapons? i've been mostly focusing on guns, for range and effecacy, but for small jobs like this it might be worth it. maybe? what do you think?]

it makes a small ponderous noise, and looks up to the roof, fidgeting with its fingers, deep in thought.

[i should be able to get my hands on some weapons catalogs for you, plus there's that expo coming up in a few weeks. but with both of those, there's the problem of you being actively sold something. lots of loud flashy words to get you to spend lots of money money money]

it huffs a quiet laugh, and then it pulls its mask down to tap at its jaw. huh? oh, it's referencing the guy who sold you that jaw, and a lot of other very flashy and not strictly nessecary items. you laugh at that.

[oh man, i don't remember how many of them you've met, but i have quite a lot of friends like that. my sincere condolences.]

it throws it's hands up in mock despair, very clearly smiling at the same time. you have a new message, from Petra. [The money has been forwarded to you.] oh damn. immediately after the job? this guy has a lot of trust in his bank security. or he just hasn't thought of what an investigator might look for. family of rich idiots, over there. once the money comes in, you'll move it to your actual account. obfuscatory steps. the agent is messing with a small piece of fabric, folding and unfolding it. it might have snatched that from that last job. that's fair, honestly. small enough to be hard to identify and easy to dispose of it needed, and it looks like it has a good texture to it. you should get it some new fidgety things, once this money comes in. you could get yourself something too, maybe. been a while since you got new clothes, but also you don't like lugging around too much unnessecary stuff. maybe there's a clothes swap event somewhere nearby you could drop in to. how would you find that. you could ask a friend. carmen, they seem like they would know. you should drop into them anyways, say hi. it gets kinda hard to keep up with friends, with the constant travelling. but you do your best, and your friends are cool, they all seem to understand. the agent has just finished typing something out on its communicator.

[bazooka would be funny]

that is SO far from anything you were expecting, you're breathless with laughter.

[say fuck all of you. get explode]

you make a little explosion motion with both hands, one still on the wheel. the agent looks somewhat proud of having gotten you to laugh.

[okay, man, do you have any actual ideas?]

[no. give me some time]

[yeah yeah, no worries. we're in no rush]

#[fiction] #[category: the agent & the handler] #death tw #blood tw #someone dies but hes not terribly important. this is about those gay people again

[spiritofjustice]

Do ur boy nahyuta for the character game!!!

Send me a character and I’ll list:

YESSS >:] thank you!!!

Favorite thing about them: Everything isn't really an answer, is it LOL. Uh! I don't know, I just love his personality a lot. I like how conflicted he is, I like how resigned he is to his fate to the point of willing to sacrifice himself for a scrap of assurance that his family will be safe even if he's dead and gone, I like his stubbornness and how smug he is, I just like his complexity. I also love his animations, they're very fun and charming and I like how many pertain to him messing with his prayer beads-- validating when I like headcanoning that he has OCD and uses the prayer beads a lot in compulsions. Least favorite thing about them: Nothing. Except that he probably will not return in AA7 and I have to live with that knowledge. Favorite line: "In all this time, not once did I reflect on my own conduct-- for I had believed it was my fate. Lost in my resignation, I was unable to wake from my despair." Just, UGH. So good, dude. I love him realizing he's wasted all this time destroying himself and harming others without thinking there was any other way to live or to protect his family and finally recognizing that it's time to start fighting back again. Mannnn. He's the best. brOTP: Barring all his family (including Datz and Apollo) because I love his potential dynamic with Rayfa, I like a potential friendship with him and Simon. They still bully the fuck out of each other but they have an understanding of each other. I like imagining that they just weren't friends one day, then were the next and they never discussed what changed. They just got along and continue to chat every once in a while. I also had a fun idea for post-SOJ after Yuty gets all his old cases overturned or gone over, resigning and becoming a defense attorney, but asking Blackquill to help with the prosecutor's office because thyey still hadn't replaced all the people that resigned, went to jail, or fled the country. I think that's fun. They would have a great rivalry, don't you think? OTP: Ema and Nahyuta like Skyemadhi is IT for me. I love them. I think they have a great dynamic, and Nahyuta clearly really loves and respects her during SOJ. I can't help but think he's got a crush on her and doesn't know how to express it initially, or maybe doesn't even know that's what it is because God forbid he FEELS things. Ema helps him open up and he wants to be a better person because of her, and he'll give her fucking Anything in return. Mainly opportunities for her to expand her scientific knowledge or getting higher positions.

Also when they get married I think they probably sprung for a double-barrelled surname (so Skye-Sahdmadhi) which, since Yuta has been restored to the royal family and she's marrying into it, their full surname is probably like Skye-Sahdmadhi Khura'in, but for ease, people just started calling them Prosecutor or Detective Skyemadhi for short 😭 nOTP: I don't get Apollo/Nahyuta at all. I know in the Japanese version they aren't described as brothers at all, so it's kind of a weird thing because in English they're explicitly read as brothers, but not in the original text, but it's like. I mean, I think it's fine I guess. Regardless of it, to me they have no chemistry romantically. At all. Their dynamic is so extremely platonic that I couldn't read it any other way lol. And I still view them as family myself, even though they may not exactly do so themselves.

I also admit I become less fond of Blackquill and Nahyuta romantically as time goes on, but it's not bad. I just don't particularly like it. Random headcanon: I've talked about this one before, but I imagine that if things got so dangerous that Dhurke had to send Apollo away, that he eventually sent Nahyuta away too. Like I think he probably initially kept Yuty because he couldn't possibly put his blood son away, his only family in the whole wide world, but after Ga'ran steals Amara and Rayfa back a year or so after the Apollo thing, Dhurke finally caves and sends Nahyuta to live at a monastery for safety.

I like imagining that this was before Tahrust Inmee became the high priest, but he was still rebel sympathetic and allowed Nahyuta to stay safely at his little remote monastery. Then, around the time Nahyuta finished his ascetic training at 18, Inmee became high priest and had to move to the capital for his job, so Nahyuta was sent home because they didn't know if the next head monk would be so sympathetic to them, thus leading to Nahyuta pivoting and joining the Dragons for real and then starting his lawyer journey. Unpopular opinion: Not only is Nahyuta overhated, he is a great character. Apparently that's controversial among AA fans KRKFN but like, other than that? I dunno. I don't think he's boring at all, though he's a bit underwritten and doesn't talk enough during some of the trials. Song I associate with them: I made a whole playlist for him, but I should pick out one or two. I think Looking Glass by The Birthday Massacre and Empty Page by The Crane Wives are two great songs that reflect how he's bending himself to be whatever everyone else wants him to be, and that's nothing of him left, if there was any of him to begin with.

I also like What If by Emilie Autumn for the "escaping my abusive situation and changing" vibes for him.

I also like Abbey by Mitski for him.

I'll quit going on, you get the point KRKF Favorite picture of them: Every time he's on screen I lose my mind. How am I to pick KRKF

One of my faves is the one in my icon. I love his lil smiles, he's so gorgeous it kills meeee

Also not to be deranged but. Um. JBNSD I like how he looked when he had a gun to his head. I liked the expression.

I could list any pose or pic of him though and it would be my fave probably though, lol.

#kazooyah #asks #Psy's replies #aa tag #headcanons tag #thanks Yosh!!

[ask-sibverse]

Prompt: hiking date with Killer (As much fun as explicitly diabetic related situations are, it's nice to do some things where the main focus isn't diabetes. I do have another diabetes focused drabble planned, but for now, fluff! Mostly.) Set in the same version of things as this

TW: violent intrusive thoughts

(Like this? Want more? Send a prompt!)

Cgm, check. Pump set to activity mode (one of the author's favorite damn settings about the Omnipod), check. A boatload of granola bars and other low blood sugar snacks to shove in your inventory, check. Plenty of water? Got it.

"I think I'm ready," you said.

Killer had suddenly texted you that he's taking you on a hike, before immediately backtracking and asking if it was too much with your diabetes. You tried to resist the urge to smack him as you reminded him you swim regularly in the summer and did martial arts several times a week for years. You know how to balance diabetes and exercise.

So here you were now and hour later about to go on a date with Killer. Was it a date? He hadn't called it one. It could just be a friendly, platonic outing. You shouldn't make things weird.

But you were ready to go, either way. You walked out of your room to find Killer on the couch with your cat. Cats are tiny hunters and Killer is, well... Yeah. So it didn't really surprise you that he got along great with your cat. Said cat was currently purring in his lap.

"I'm ready to go."

"I'm trapped, go on without meeeee."

You stared at him. "I don't even know where we're supposed to be hiking."

"Oh yeah. But the caaaaat."

You snorted and scooped up your cat. He meowed in complaint but let you move him off the murder skeleton. "Lets get going, shall we?"

He nodded eagerly. "You ever been to Mount Ebbott?"

"No, I don't think I have."

"Its not too horrible a hike, and the view is great from the entrance to the Underground."

"Okay, let me get my car keys."

"Why bother? You've got someone with you who can teleport."

"I keep forgetting that."

Killer snorted and extended his hand. "Hang on tight."

Shortcuts were sometimes more disorienting than portals. Portals you at least were passing through something to get from point A to point B, shortcuts you were one place and then you blinked and were somewhere else. So to suddenly be in the woods at the base of Mt Ebbott took a moment for your mind to catch up with.

Killer started dragging you up the path as soon as you collected yourself. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and it was just the two of you on the mountain.

"Is it usually this peaceful?" You asked. "I don't think anyone is up here."

"Depends on the AU, and the time of year," Killer said. "But yeah, no one but us here right now." He paused. It seemed like thoughts were running through his mind. "I could do anything to you, and no one would know."

"Killer."

"I wouldn't, I promise!"

"Killer."

You sighed. "What's going through your head?"

"... That no one would hear you scream. That I could chase you through the woods and kill you, watch my knives make you into a pincushion and no one would find out until it was too late. But I won't do that, promise!"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Do we need to go back? It sounds like your mind is getting to you."

"No! Ill be fine, I want to show you the view from the top!"

"Alright, I trust you."

So you filled the silence to give him a distraction. Talking about your hobbies and cats, asking what he and the gang had been up to. It seemed to work, at least to distract him if it didn't fix things. You almost didn't notice the entrance to the Underground until you were about to fall in, Killer having to grab you by the collar of your jacket.

"Don't fall in. You're not a Frisk." he snorted. You stuck your tongue out before turning.

The view took your breath away. You could see all of Ebott City from here and the surrounding valley. You could imagine how incredible it must feel to see this for the first time after centuries kept underground.

"This is..."

"Incredible, yeah. I saw it a few times before my human really lost it."

You squeezed his hand gently. "I hope Chara doesn't reset here, I'd hate for everyone to lose this." Especially your friends

"Eh, who knows." He shrugged. "Don't have a high opinion of most of those brats. Or humans in general."

"What about me?"

"You're... Different. Special."

#intrusive thoughts tw #killer sans #killer sans x reader #t1dreader #undertale

[channel-01-clown]

☆ INTRO POST!

☆ Hello!!! My name is Gwynplaine. I draw and write but I honestly mostly just use this account to shitpost and dump my thoughts, I'm on ig as 47clowner where I share my art (tho I haven't posted there in a while lol) so also follow me there :))

☆ I am a convert roman catholic from Pakistan, I'm pashto and also part afghan. I'm also chronically ill and queer so please be respectful !!!

☆ These are my current interests in no particular order, the ones that are colored are my fixations;

Most horror (ESPECIALLY TCM!!!)

I have no mouth and I must scream

DC (especially batman!!!)

FAITH: the unholy trinity

Resident evil

X-men

saw

The cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Fight club

Better call saul/ Breaking bad

Mortal kombat

The man who laughs

Neon genesis evangelion

TMNT (I'm a little biased to the 2012 one bc it's the one I grew up with but i love all versions the same!!!)

Death note

Grand Theft Auto

☆If you have the same interests then please please please interact I would love to be mutuals !!!!!

☆ DNI: basic criteria, (ableist, racist, etc) proship, zionist, have anything portraying the devil in a positive light on your account or view the devil in any positive light or just like... disrespect Christianity on purpose on ur account, NSFW account, map or zoo

☆ Boundaries: don't sexualise me or my family in conversation (ur mom jokes excluded I'm fine w those ig), don't try to debate me on my religion or make fun of it, don't be passive aggressive for no reason and please just be direct with your emotions and boundaries, if I tell you I need space then respect that, if I'm uncomfortable answering something don't press further on it, if we're friends and I'm being affectionate towards you and it makes you uncomfortable then tell me, but please don't make fun of me for it, I'm always okay with listening to people vent however I'd appreciate if you asked first, I'm NOT open to debating my identity.

☆ BYI : I sometimes struggle with understanding boundaries, so please be clear on them and establish them firmly and if I disrespect them then tell me as I don't do it on purpose but I just. genuinely don't get it sometimes, I do talk alot so if it gets draining for you then lmk ofc and yeah if I ever do something you don't like then plsplspls just tell me, if I go a while without responding I'm likely just either drained or forgot, which I'm sorry for and I'll try to tell ppl more when it happens but also if I do tell you then pls don't try to text me till I tell you I'm feeling better or I interact first as it can be very overwhelming for me, I can be a bit awkward but if u want u can always dm me!!!!

[delusionaid]

✖☠♢☢✿ teehee <333

salty munday meme

You just want to see the world burn~

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

My gods, where do I start? When I started we all had ridiculous URLs with 4 dashes in each, we all used random huge gifs as reactions, nobody formatted anything or used small text, and a LOT of people I knew were actually in RP groups and not independent blogs. None of the common staples of RP now were a thing the people I used to write with thought about, I feel: blog rules were none-existent or very very short and basic, exclusivity was not that big a thing (except for the group RPs), blog graphics really didn't matter.

Obviously I can't speak for all of tumblr and all fandoms, but that was my experience in the early days. It felt very low effort and low pressure but high fun. There was a lot less drama than nowadays too, from what I remember, and the overall atmosphere was quite welcoming and.. silly.

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

Be rude or mean or cruel or overall obnoxious to me or others. I don't agree with everyone on everything and I don't expect that from anybody else either. But there are things like common decency and manners and mutual respect and tolerance. As long as these things are present, we're going to be just fine. If I see you hating on others or bullying them - and I don't care about your reasons for it - I'm out. We could have absolutely opposing views on e.g. ships but be respectful about it and we'll get along. However, we could have the exact same taste in ships yet I see you hating on other people or being a bully (even if you're nice to me) and we'll absolutely not be friends. Be kind, it takes less energy than being a terrible human being, actually.

Gotta put the rest under a cut because it's long :)

♢ Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz

I'm not sure about RP, I don't really pay attention to that. I don't particularly care as long as someone doesn't kinda copy me and then try to go to my writing partners with the same ideas. If someone took my verses or headcanons 1:1 to write them with their own friends and writing partners, honestly have at it. My headcanons also have to be quite specific for me to feel like they're unique to my portrayal. People who write the same muses often come up with similar things because we base it on what we deduce from observing canon and there will be overlaps.

I've had people steal and repost my fanfictions though. And I've had my graphic edits and gifsets reposted without my permission.

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

Purple prose writing - I never liked it and I never will. Generally excessive formatting too, to be honest. It get that it looks cool, but unless you are engaging in calligram poems the focus on aesthetics over content for me seems a bit misplaced. As always, to each their own, and if that's the art you are aiming to create here then you are doing a fabulous job, but it's simply not what I am looking for.

✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

I think they're bad. More often than not they feel like an excuse to bully people and they create more harm than good. They are never fully honest, never an objective recount of events and never lead to any positive outcomes as far as I can tell. They're the modern online version of trying to create an angry lynch mob to get someone burned at the virtual stake. I reject callout posts and cancel culture in general wholeheartedly.

Of course there are dangerous and shady people in online spaces (like there are away from your computers as well) and in very rare cases it might be good to make a community aware of an ongoing issue or the possibility of something happening. There should be a GENERAL awareness of the dangers of the online world and strangers that could help prevent actual serious incidents. That said, most callouts I've seen are not about serious cases, they're about people having personal altercations that have nothing to do with the rest of the community and should not be discussed in a public war of who's better at making the other look like a psychopath. There are good reasons why in real life, if someone is accused of a crime it's forbidden for people to take justice into their own hands and go after them. When you see a callout on your dash, you never have all the facts, nobody ever seems to question the source of these callouts (enough), they're always incredibly biased and presenting "evidence" out of context (which is the opposite of transparent), and never encourage you to listen to both sides of the story and make your own opinion of it. All of that should make you think twice before you even consider reblogging that. Also: imagine someone wrote a callout about you, with ill-intent, fabricating lies and making your past (& private) messages look shady out of context. Would you want total strangers to shun or even attack you without giving you the benefit of the doubt? I guess not, huh? Do not carelessly treat things as good that you don't want to happen to you in a bad case scenario.

It's just a hard pass for me. I reject this as a way of dealing with personal problems. Not to mention that I don't relate to people's desire to air their dirty laundry on social media. Try to fix your personal issues in private and think about the future consequences of your actions before you publish a lengthy text about someone who wronged you, calling them all sorts of names and things that you will likely find far less appropriate in a year from now, potentially ruining their other friendships, messing with potential new friendships, their chance to calmly reflect on their behavior, and possibly get them ostracized from an entire FANDOM.

#( ooc asks. ) #( meme reply. ) #thank you teatea!!

[sacredechoes]

I'm thinking of trying my hand at some GBA Fire Emblem ROM hacking, and I was wondering, what software/program/whatever was used to make Sacred Echoes?

My workflow for Sacred Echoes ended up being pretty similar to how the original devs built FE8 - meaning I was mostly working with source code and the compiler with various command-line utilities to convert my asset files into a data format the GBA could handle. When I started the project in mid-2018, I already had some formal education and work experience in programming, so I was past the steepest part of the learning curve for these specific tools.

Please note that my methods are NOT the methods I would recommend for a first project unless you're already familiar with the software development process and using command-line tools. I went into Sacred Echoes knowing I would need to write a bunch of custom code to modify the game mechanics beyond what the beginner tools at the time allowed me to do, so I chose the more complex path. If you're looking for an all-in-one graphical editor that's more friendly to beginners, FEBuilder is amazing and constantly updated with new functions. Whichever method you decide on using, the FE Universe forum and discord are full of resources, tutorials, and helpful people, and I wouldn't have been able to succeed without them. Best of luck on your project!

That said, here's all the technical details and links to all the tools I used:

Sacred Echoes was built using a combination of GNU make (a build system used to automatically detect and compile changes to source code in large projects) and Event Assembler, a utility primarily built for editing the GBA Fire Emblem games. Event Assembler is used with a method called the buildfile, which is essentially a fancy text file with instructions for Event Assembler to insert source files into a ROM and linking different parts together. This meant I used different tools for creating each type of data. Unlike with a ROM editor (such as FEBuilder), I wasn't constantly saving my changes to the same ROM file, but instead freshly building it each time I made a change and wanted to test. This meant that if I messed up (very common when writing custom code), I could just comment out the relevant code or instructions in the buildfile and rebuild from source, rather than try to pick through the ROM by hand to fix issues.

There were cases where I would need to view and edit raw binary data with a hex editor (usually to find a pointer to compressed graphics or a data table); I prefer HxD for that.

For graphics, use any program that can edit and save .PNG files (I used MS Paint and GIMP), and then a tool for game graphics called Usenti to put them into a format the GBA can read. If you need to find and rip graphics from a ROM to edit them, GBAGE is the gold standard (and comes built-in to FEBuilder).

Maps are built from the tileset graphics using a program called Tiled.

For music, the GBA uses MIDI sequences, so any audio program with MIDI support works fine for that. (I used Anvil Studio). The MIDI file is then converted to GBA with a utility called midi2agb.

For unit data and other large data structures, I used a spreadsheet in CSV format, which can be edited with a program like Excel or LibreOffice Calc.

For map events and loading units, the GBA FE games use a scripting language called Event Assembler Language, which just gets written in a raw .txt file. A good plaintext editor like Notepad++ or SublimeText can help keep track of language syntax and keywords.

For assembly code, it is also written in a text editor, and then compiled to bytecode with devkitARM. Most of it I wrote in raw ARM assembly language (which is specific to the GBA's CPU), but in more complex cases towards the end of the project I wrote the code in the C programming language and compiled it with devkitARM.

To keep track of my source files and changes, and to make backups and version control easier, I just used GitHub because I already had an account, but you could also use GitLab or Bitbucket instead.

Finally, I used some tools made by the FE hacking community specifically for automating some tasks and formatting data - most of these are Python scripts, but some can be downloaded as compiled executables. I used "lyn", "TMX2EA", "C2EA", TextProcess and ParseFile, and AnimationAssembler. Ask on the FEU discord or check the forum's toolbox tag.

#rom hack #rom hacking