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illdowhatiwantthanks · 3 months

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The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.”

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag.

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!” you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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homunculus-argument · 1 year

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Random worldbuilding:

You're walking through an otherwise completely ordinary modern city, but there are countless varying flags hung on the walls of the buildings - on peoples' balconies, windows, rows of little tilted flagpoles on the walls of apartment buildings, one per apartment apparently - each one having a flag. No two flags appear to be the same. You hear yelling from the window of one apartment somewhere above, and turn around just in time to see a couple unfurl yet another flag, hanging it from their own respective pole.

Your local guide remarks that they must have just moved in. Most people lay claim to the apartment as soon as they get the keys and the contract has been signed, and only throw a housewarming party and celebrate moving in a month later, once the apartment has been successfully "claimed". By the look on your face, your host concludes that you have no idea what they're talking about, or what it has to do with the flags.

Your host begins explaining: several centuries ago the land was devastated by a deadly plague - many houses, homesteads, even whole villages were wiped out, the buildings left standing empty. And survivors with nothing to stay for in the places where they were born were roaming about, trying to find a new place to live. To solve both problems, a decree was made: If a wandering party finds an abandoned homestead and raises their own flag on top of the building and manages to stay there for a whole month without the house's original owner showing up to protest, the one who hoisted the flag is now the lawful resident.

So historically this decree made countless of people who were formerly serfs into not only free citizens but landowners with family names and their own flags. Many had a wry sense of humour about theirs, and some of the now oldest and proudest family flags depict things like a broken plough or a pig in a crown - one of them is abstract and seemingly modern, famously born as the ancestors of that particular family had nothing else to use for a flag than one foremother's patterned scarf.

And while these days there's far more laws and regulations on the old traditions of claiming a house, the tradition of flag-raising and keeping an official housewarming party only a month after the move have remained. Many young couples moving in together don't just choose which one's family flag to use, but getting your own, unique mutual flag commissioned for you is a fairly common wedding gift. Immigrants coming from somewhere else who have adopted the house flag traditions have made their own designs, using elements of their own old homeland like historical symbols, colours, and birds that are not native here.

You pass by a flag with a figure that looks conspicuously like Garfield, and your host confirms that yeah, while there is a registry of flags and you can't make a flag that's exactly the same as that of someone else, the flags are explicitly excempt of regular copyright law. This decree was set after someone jokingly included a Mickey on theirs, the government sided with them, and Disney came to the conclusion that going into actual, literal war with a small nation with a trained army would be bad for PR.

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allthecanadianpolitics · 5 months

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Canada is creating a national registry to track plastic production and pollution, Environment Minister Steven Guilbeault said Monday, with Ottawa set to host another round of negotiations toward a global treaty to end plastic waste.

The talks, kicking off on Tuesday, seek to find international agreement on how to tackle the world’s plastics habit, in a similar vein to the 2015 Paris Agreement on climate change.

Guilbeault said one of the keys to making it work is for countries like Canada to have a better handle on what plastic we’re making and what happens to it.

Since 2022, Environment and Climate Change Canada has been consulting on the development of a plastics registry, similar to how it tracks greenhouse-gas emissions.

The plan, dubbed the Federal Plastics Registry, is to be phased in over the next few years. [...]

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

#cdnpoli #pollution #waste #environment #Climate Change Canada #climate change

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anonymous-dentist · 1 year

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Okay, so read this one-shot for context, but:

So Cellbit is a retired supervillain. Once upon a time, he was one of the most dangerous villains in Q City: Enigma- a dude so dangerous that the Federation of Heroes is still trying to find him.

See, Enigma was one of the first people to be born with an ability, and it was a fucking dangerous one. 'Cause he could make people scared. That is to say, he could control people's fear. He could sense their fear, he could amplify it, he could nullify it, he could find out exactly what they were scared of and use it to literally scare them to death and walk away with their wallets and the keys to their car.

But then Cellbit got arrested for a murder three years ago. One of the Federation's lower-ranked heroes attacked him as a civilian, and he killed them out of self defense. So Cellbit was sent to prison as himself, and Enigma seemingly vanished out of nowhere, never to be seen again.

(The Federation would like to offer a $500,000 reward for any information on Enigma's identity or his whereabouts. Please notify the nearest Federation office if you have any information.)

But then he got out of prison and now he's working as an "abilityless" reporter trying to support himself and his family- because somehow his friends all managed to acquire a kid while he was in prison. He's given up on his whole villain thing because, really, that was just his edgy phase. He's over that now.

...But he's also working to try and take down the Federation because it's corrupt and it's evil and it's literally running Q City like a dictatorship despite there being a fucking mayor and he wants it gone.

The problem with that is that he's alone in this. The Federation has every single one of the city's heroes on its payroll, and it sponsors the majority of the city's vigilantes. That leaves villains, who Cellbit is trying to avoid, and it leaves-

Spider-Man. He's one of the few vigilantes left not directly working for the Federation. He's a mystery. Nobody knows who he is, nobody knows why he's a vigilante or where he got his powers from, and- most importantly for Cellbit- nobody knows why Spider-Man has seemingly suddenly started sabotaging Federation operations. He's one big failed Federation mission away from being put on the city's official villain registry, and Cellbit wants him.

So he's going to find Spider-Man. He's going to explain his plans, and he's going to ask for his help, and the Federation will die, and it'll be beautiful.

...Speaking of beautiful, Cellbit is liking civilian life. He's got this new friend, Roier, an employee at a taqueria near the Federation's city hq. He might be buddies with a bunch of Federation employees, but that's fine. He's cute. He's a Spider-Man fanboy, he's a psych student at the local university, he's funny.

(And isn't this all convenient for both of them?)

#deli superhero au #i came up with this all during class today i love it #send asks!! i want to talk about it

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marigold-hills · 2 months

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Dunes & Waters, part 26

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

“We need to go to Lycopolis,” Sirius says, “maybe the British left something there. The Box must have a key, there’s always one somewhere.”

It’s a week until the full moon. Remus already feels it pulling at the edges of him. Wants to cocoon himself in bed with a nest of blankets and warmth, to tell Sirius next week, please, but he can’t. Sirius is already gracious enough not running away screaming. Remus won’t put the setbacks of his conditions on him as well.

Not when he’s already keeping him from his family.

Remus didn’t really consider that, before. Should have, probably, because most people have someone that waits for them. A parent or a brother or a best friend – and Sirius has them all, of course he does, the person he is. (Wonderful, caring, charming.) and he’d told Remus, at the very beginning, he said I miss my family but somehow the meaning of it didn’t really hit.

It is a fear, a violation, to be found out through the Registry like he was, but can he begrudge the Potters? No. One of their own was off in a foreign country, being kept in that foreign country, even once they got him free. Of course they’d want to know who it was, doing the keeping.

There’s a young bell boy at the hotel they trust not to say anything about Ziggy (because he hasn’t, the many times he’s seen him). Remus gives him payment – or a bribe – to feed the cat the two days they’ll be gone. They pack lightly.

Segin al-Kom is three Apparition jumps north from where they were in Aswan. The very heart of the Nile Delta, it’s surrounded by a shock of green fields cultivated at the sites of the annual flood. It’s a living connection to history – the same land and the same water, cyclically allowing for life to grow, since before Osiris was worshipped here.

They find a small hotel. They arrive early, so the room won’t be ready for a few hours, but the concierge lets them leave their bags there ahead of time so they can travel unburdened.

Sirius takes a look at Remus, and insist they go to eat first. He buys a book of crosswords from the hotel shop (“I need my routine, Remus!”). Seems to be into them more than Remus is by now, and getting better too.

It’s more joy watching him solve them than Remus ever felt doing them alone. (It’s better to smell tea when Sirius drinks it, to see sunlight change shapes with passing time if it falls on his hair, to eat sticky-sweet pastries when Sirius eats them, too.)

The Museum is small, as they tend to be in places the British had stripped of all their historical artefacts. It’s run by muggles, without a Wizarding counterpart. Remus is a bit worried about that – had they had an in, Kingsley could always get them into the back rooms, the storage, the hidden things not presented to the general public. He hopes his Oxford university credentials are enough to get them some leeway.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #fanfic #dead gay wizards #remus x sirius #marauders era #dunes and waters

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edwordsmyth · 1 year

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"It seems to me that we now have critical tools to track and condemn the destabilization of the juridico-political category of the civilian, a destabilization that has enabled the killing of innocent, blameless subjects, whether in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, or Yemen, to mention only a few recent examples. But perhaps we need to think more about the making of the figure of the civilian and the notion of civilian normalcy, the territorial and discursive conditions that go into cultivating civilian lives, and their unequal distribution. I propose that the settler-colonial conquest and territorialization of the land are not merely the context of the current events but forces that produce and stabilize specific categories, including that of the civilian. There is power involved in the making and unmaking of the civilian, not only in her being the target of violence. In Palestine, this power is an exercise of settler-colonial territorialization as it has been intertwined with the ongoing removal, killing, and enclosure of Palestinians.

Once the Zionist state was able to mark its borders, to fortify them with settlements and armed settlers, once it was able to territorialize itself by depopulating Palestinian villages and cities, destroying them, preventing the return of Palestinian refugees, and conscripting Jews from all the over world to populate the new settlements, once it did everything that was becoming illegitimate elsewhere in the decolonizing world, then it could begin to both materialize the figure of the civilian and the notion of civilized normalcy and weaponize them as conditions on the ground to be defended. In the civilian’s name and for its protection, atrocities could be carried out.

Key to this notion of civilian normalcy is its institutional-territorial condition of possibility: a strong state form with continuous territory and fortified borders. Israel has it. It acquired this state form by force from the Palestinians. This state form has institutions: a professional standing military, a police force, an interior ministry, a registry of citizens, and a defense ministry. These are but select institutions that produce and reproduce the distinction between civilian and combatant, even as national military service is mandatory for all Jewish, Israeli citizens, with only some exceptions. The condition of possibility for these institutions is the exclusion of the Palestinians — in terms of entry to the country, residency rights, family unification, access to land, and so on — their suppression, removal, policing, and enclosure. These institutions have fostered an Israeli civil society, civil posture, civil plurality—and civilian normalcy. The settler, the precise figure through which proceeded both the territorialization of the Zionist state of Israel and the dispossession and removal of Palestinians, has also morphed into a civilian.

The occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip in 1967 was central to the making of Israeli civilian normalcy. The “occupied territories” have always been the terrain for unleashing Israeli military power, thereby preventing the violence of the occupation from intruding into normalized Israeli civilian life. There, behind the green line, Israel has conducted the “conflict.” The more settler-military violence there is in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, the more civilian normalcy there is in Israel, and the more the notion of civilian normalcy can be weaponized to justify more violence in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. But the purifying and normalizing operations of the green line did not always go unchallenged. Palestinians have always understood that the condition of possibility for this civilian normalcy, inside the green line, was the destruction of Palestinian existence on the land and the ban on their return to the land. Hence, there have always been breaches of the enclosure and operations to undo the frontier: what Palestinians call “return.”

Meanwhile, a Palestinian claim for civilian status or civilian normalcy has met many challenges. Palestinian society was destroyed in 1948. The territories occupied in 1967 have been purposefully fragmented, disconnected, and separated by settlements. There is no state form, standing military, depth of territory, or civilian posture. Instead, there are many refugee camps, dispossessed families, and subjects-in-struggle. Everything that could cultivate civilian normalcy is already targeted by the Israeli Occupation, from homes and schools to NGOs, cultural centers, and universities. When compared to the other side of the green line, life in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, the containers of Israel’s violence against Palestinians, cannot manifest civilian normalcy.

But there is more. The civilian ethos, as a matter of liberal sensibility, requires innocence, political passivity, lack of movement, and fixity. In the eyes of the liberal, civilized West, the civilian must be pacified, passive, and blameless and must reject rebellion. The Palestinians, as refugees, as politically engaged resistant subjects, as subjects who look in the direction of the land from which they were expelled and aspire to move in its direction, and as persons who wish not to settle in an enclosure, do not pass the test of this ethos. Their just refusal of confinement, steadfast rejection of enclosure, and non-despairing hope to return to the land from which they were expelled violates this liberal ethos. Their dreams and aspirations render them, in the eyes of those who value civilian normalcy despite its heavy toll on others, obliterable. Therefore, no emotion can be allowed to arise in the face of their extermination. Quite to the contrary. In the name of civilian normalcy, the a-civilian must be obliterated."

#samera esmeir #palestine #if you read only one political essay on the current palestinian situation make it this one

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deathbypixelz · 9 months

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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

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