#and this most recent (and likely final) installment is just... SO GOOD

[pkmn-redirect]

I’m curious what’s the game series that released a new game after 10 yrs?

Like- I love pokemon, and it's definitely been a fav for longer as far as media franchises I enjoy are concerned

But

DRAGON AGE. MAN.

It's genuinely probably going to be at the forefront of my mind a bit (I have dumped over 400 hours into it since November over like- 5 playthroughs and I am still completely enthralled). If folks want to keep up with what I'm up to while this comic is in sleep mode, or ask any further questions- I'd recommend my art blog, @ann-chovi! Ideally, I'd like to keep the feed on the comic blog strictly to updates when I have them- so as not to clog anyone's dash if they're not interested in my other stuff~♡

I haven't dropped this comic, and do fully intend to come back to it (I have so much outlined haha) but yeah- THIS is where my focus is at the moment.

[syntheticsymp]

Omg u can't just drop the fact that Krueger knows about niktos girl and not elaborate on it 😭 like did this guy just break in the house and found out /jj

Yes I’m so glad you noticed!! I try to make it a common theme throughout all my Nikto fics that Krueger knows about her, and Nikto absolutely hates it. They might be kind of/sort of friends, but Krueger is a different breed of crazy. I got a little carried away and wrote for this because I love the break in idea—

TW: attempted sexual assault (which was stopped) and Krueger. A continuation of the Nikto fics I've been posting on here recently. Unedited, as always

Krueger’s known about Nikto’s ‘pet’ for a while now. It wasn't really hard to figure out, since he knew where to look. And Krueger was nothing if not a nosy bastard.

The first giveaway was Nikto’s phone. They were standard issue at KorTac, everyone was required to have one in case of emergency. Never once had Nikto opened it, nor had he bothered to learn how to use it. So, when he suddenly seemed to check it more often, of course Krueger grew suspicious.

He attempted to snatch the phone on multiple occasions. Nikto kept it unlocked, since he had no clue how to enable the password feature. The only picture on his camera roll was blurry, taken by an unsteady hand that clearly didn't know what it was doing. It was of you, your face tilted to the side as you were doing... something. He couldn't really tell. And the more he tried to decipher the photo, the more he believed that it had just been a fluke. A picture taken completely by accident.

From what little Krueger could see, he still knew you could do better than Nikto's deformed face. Not to mention his personality, which was just as horrid. Another poor, unfortunate soul that fell into bloody hands.

Normally, he would have left it at that. Nikto finally had a good whore to go back to, good for him. He would have assumed Nikto killed the girl immediately after.

But then there were the texts. At least once a day, the annoying, standard ringtone blared from the little black phone. Then Nikto would stop everything just to reply.

It was weird.

So Krueger formed a plan. It was flawless. Next time Nikto checked his phone, he'd snatch it and flip through the chats. Surely, if he had a toy stashed away Nikto would have told him. They were partners, after all.

But, as soon as Krueger tried, Nikto quickly threw his phone to the ground and smashed it under his heel. The big baby was always so dramatic.

Now, Krueger was more curious than ever. Nikto had a secret, and he'd stop at nothing to unearth it.

Flash forward to Thursday night. There was yet another long debrief. Krueger didn't care to listen. As long as he'd get to kill, he wouldn't complain about their next mission. And if they did well, they would retain the freedom of having a life outside of KorTac. An absolutely terrible idea on management's part, but he wasn't about to complain. Not when it gave him the perfect opportunity to sneak out a few moments before Nikto and scope out his home. Simple recon, that was all.

Nikto was taken aside with Konig while the rest of the operatives were dismissed. That meeting would no doubt end with Nikto blowing up at the Austrian man, most likely bashing his face in again. He never could stand Konig. But that gave Krueger a headstart.

Finding Nikto's house was far easier than breaking in. It was a surprisingly nice cottage far out from everything else, just within the parameters of where he was allowed to live. Surrounded by trees, there was enough covering for this place to go unnoticed. Entering through the front door was not an option, Krueger knew that Nikto had definitely installed a stupid amount of locks, and probably rigged some sort of trap or two.

So, he went through the back window. It was a challenge to get in, and fuck, if Krueger didn't love a challenge. It simply meant that the treat locked away had to be worth the effort. You had to be so sweet if Nikto kept you hidden like this.

After shimmying inside, Krueger took his time walking around the house. It was nice, he had to admit. KorTac's salary was unrivaled, especially considering the missions they gave to their operatives. It seemed Nikto's paycheck went to this place, Russian books and tiny knick-knacks decorating the shelves. There was no way in hell Nikto bought the latter for himself, confirming his suspicions. Someone else lived here.

Unlike in his stealth missions, Krueger touched everything, acquainting himself with his partner's living space. He missed the days when Nikto lived on base with him, locked away in a small cell across the way from his. Nikto could pretend all he wanted, but this ‘home’ he created would never be real. It was all a sad, desperate facade for a life he would never have. Krueger didn't care to play house, even if he had his own toy locked away, he was only using Lucas for sex. Nikto clearly gave you a higher role.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he was in the living room until it was too late. Soft breathing lured him in, a lullaby whispering to him to suffocate the breath for good. Krueger never could keep his hands to himself.

You were curled up, asleep on the couch, waiting for Nikto like a well-behaved pet. The blurry photograph Krueger had seen did not do you justice. He'd have to show Nikto how to get the good angles, making sure to spread your legs for the camera so he could see the perfect moment when he thrusted in. Yeah, Nikto was due for a good lesson. And with a thing as pretty as you, why wouldn't he want to keep your pussy in his pocket at all times?

Krueger circled, stopping right infront of you before crouching down to your height. It was truly a shame you were rotting away with such an ugly man. While he was here, he might as well give you a taste of what you were missing.

"Wakey wakey!" The loud, accented chirp echoed through the room.

You shot straight up, eyes bleary and hair a mess. You looked around the room wildly before your gaze finally landed on him.

"You're not Nik..." The realization came slow. Then, all at once. You kicked yourself back, scrambling over the back of the couch in an attempt to flee.

Only for Krueger to catch you by the ankle and pull you back to the cushions. “Oh, you're smart,” he mocked.

"Let go of me!" You screeched as you thrashed wildly. "Nikto will kill you! Get away!"

He laughed at your struggle, the sound airy as if he were with a friend rather than scaring the shit out of you. Nikto always preferred obedience, acceptable, but Krueger? He favored the girls who fought.

"I'm sure he will," Krueger hummed. "But why don't we have a little fun beforehand, ja?"

Tears were already starting to fall down your cheeks. Why hadn't Nikto told him he had such a pretty crier locked away? It was so unfair. Krueger would have been more than willing to offer his partner on the field a taste of his toy, Lucas, at home. They were supposed to be a team, the two resident psychos of KorTac. Hiding secrets was never a part of the deal.

"I want you to leave," you said quietly, but coherently. So you were using your words. Nikto truly did train you well.

"Well, that doesn't really matter, now does it?" Keeping one hand on your stomach so you'd stay pushed down, he used the other to push the heel of your foot against the bulge in his pants. It had been there since he was shown the footage of his last kill at KorTac. Nothing quite did the trick like gore. "Nikto, you see, he is like a brother to me. Does it not seem right for him to share his toys?"

You attempted to kick his balls, which he blocked, moving your foot away from his cock. He continued with a tut, "Nein, nein. None of that. Just giving a quick inspection."

As he tried to pry your legs apart to see what Nikto had been so desperate to protect, you wouldn't stop fighting. You were surprisingly strong, most likely from the times you fought off Nikto when he first stole you away. Krueger had thought Nikto would have beaten all the fight out of you by now. Surely you didn't think you belonged to him alone, did you?

You were screaming now, too. Nearly making Krueger's ears bleed. "Quiet, bitch."

"He'll kill you!" you spat in his face, hair mussed by the couch cushions. "Nikto will fucking kill you if you don't get off me!"

Krueger laughed. "You truly think you mean that much to him? You're just a toy, Schatz."

You started to shake as more tears fell. Shit. Krueger recognized what happened in an instant. You were going hysterical. This place, your situation, had caused you to teeter to the the edge. And Krueger had accidentally given you the final shove. Nikto was totally going to kill him.

As if on cue, the door swung open. And out came the man you kept whining so insistently about.

Krueger let go of you, allowing you to scramble to close your legs as he gave Nikto a shit-eating grin. "There you are, big guy. We were just talking about you—”

Nikto was on him in a second, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him against the nearest wall. A method of killing they both shared. The brutal asphyxiation made Krueger hornier, if that was even possible. He really should check in with a doctor or psychologist about a way to fix the 'compulsive sexual disorder' his last shrink diagnosed him with.

When Nikto finally spoke, it was a single word.

"Leave."

He didn't bother sugarcoating, he never had and he never will. Nikto was the same overly competitive, overly territorial man Krueger knew on the field. A mirror image of himself. It was intoxicating.

The pressure on his throat made it hard to respond, but that didn't stop Krueger from trying. "No way to... welcome guests... to your home."

Nikto would have been content to kill him and they both knew it. They had been in this situation various times before, just on opposite ends of the knife. They were brothers in arms, fellow psychos. Even if they were the same, they would not hesitate to kill each other. That had been clear since they had first been partnered up.

And oh, hadn't Nikto been so close to killing Krueger. They were the same in so many ways, lacking boundaries and sanity. But they showed it in very different ways.

It may have been another spirit that possessed Nikto at that moment, or perhaps your terrified expression, because he dropped Krueger, who didn't so much as flinch during the whole interaction.

"Why did you come here?" Nikto asked, crossing his arms and standing directly infront of you, blocking you from Krueger's line of sight. You were still on the couch, confused by the man in your home, and terrified of what he almost did to you.

"Why'd you hide such a pretty toy from me?" Krueger countered, shooting you a wink you didn't even seem to register.

Nikto did not return the playful tone. There were many reasons he could give, but the answer was pretty simple. Nikto didn't like Krueger knowing about you. Not because he didn't trust you, but because he didn't trust Krueger. He's watched the man jerk off to dead bodies on the field, he knew Krueger kept pictures of the bloody corpses of women he bedded. So yeah, Nikto tried to keep you under wraps. Nikto may be a violent nutjob, but Krueger would tear you apart and leave nothing left. At least Nikto took care of his pets.

Nikto had to look up at Krueger to meet his eye. He muttered a single, sharp insult. "You are filth. You do not deserve her.”

Krueger scoffed. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

Things were quickly turning ugly. Neither man had enough impulse control to back down from a fight. Neither had ever *lost* a fight to begin with. And Nikto had no qualms beating a man to a bloody pulp infront of you, especially after what he walked in on. You had seen him do much worse.

Surprisingly, it was Krueger who conceded, leaning against the wall like he owned the place. "Alright, I'll back off. For you, Bruder."

That was most likely a lie. Krueger was never content with his own toys, he wanted to take others, too. Break them until they were unusable. He was greedy and sadistic, which is what made him such a good killer.

For all the shit Nikto put you through, somehow, he was still better than Krueger. You were still curled in on yourself, not yet coming to terms with the mindfuck of what happened in a matter of minutes, or how Krueger was casually walking to the window without a care in the world. Apparently, once you got used to one psycho, another, worse one appeared in his place.

“Come over for tea sometime,” Krueger said, throwing a sleazy smile over his shoulder, offering a wave as he jumped out the back window. “I’m sure my Lucas would love to have a little playdate."

You prayed to whatever god would listen that you never saw that man again. If he was the alternative to Nikto, you were happy to stay in your little prison, picking up the scraps of comfort you were offered.

Or perhaps that had been Krueger's plan all along. You’d spend the whole night in Nikto’s arms, crying and clinging to him. He was doing his friend a favor, strengthening your dependence so you would never feel enticed to leave. It was the least he could do for Nikto, after all, they had been partners for so long.

[webtomo]

Tomodachi Life Mods

By far my most popular post on this blog is my post about the gay marriage mod by Kobazco. To my knowledge, this mod has been on hiatus for quite some time, and unfortunately will probably continue to remain on hiatus for a long time. This mod requires reverse engineering of the games code, which is complex and takes time.

HOWEVER, there are a multitude of mods that I would like to highlight that actually are available for download currently (including one that actually works around the gender issue). All of them are relatively simple to install (assuming you are either using Citra, or have custom firmware on your 3ds).

Below the cut, I have chosen some specific mods and addons I would like to highlight!

Gender Removal Mod

This mod aims to remove any and all gendered language in Tomodachi Life, replacing any mention of "He" or "She" with They/Them pronouns. Of course, this does not get rid of the gay marriage discrepancy, but it does prevent any of your Miis from being misgendered.

The only issue in my experience, is that the European version of the mod does not change pronouns in Mii News (which I believe is not an issue in the US version of the mod). Some visual stuff is also not edited, but is possibly subject to change in the future, though the developer has not updated the mod in over a year.

Japanese & Korean Tomodachi

This mod replaces Japanese and Korean text from those versions of the game with English text. This mod is relatively recent and still has a few issues, but I think this is a really cool mod if you want to check out the Japanese or Korean versions without having to manually translate text. Most of the text in this mod is not directly translated, and instead is pulled from the English version(s), but it does seek to translate the stuff that is not available in any English versions.

The biggest issue I have had with this mod is specifically with the Japanese version not being able to open Mii News without crashing. I have also had issues with it crashing on an emulator in both versions occasionally (and also has some text formatting errors). Regardless though, I will keep an eye on the development of this mod, as it is being actively worked on currently.

HD Mii Texture Pack

This is a Citra texture pack that gives the Mii faces HD textures. Though not technically a "mod" for gameplay, I do want to highlight it. This texture pack exclusively for Citra that just replaces the low res Mii face textures from the Mii Maker with higher resolution textures. If you are deciding to play the game in HD on an emulator, I think this is something you will appreciate, considering the Miis make up a good percentage of everything you see in-game.

I personally have had no issues with this texture pack, though it seems that some people have had issues with lag and crashing. So, I would just be aware of that if you decide to install this pack.

Tomodachi Enterprise

This is a mod that changes tons of food, adds custom rooms, clothing, activities, interactions, items, and more. This is a mod that I have not actually played myself (yet), but is one i am looking forward to finally checking out. This mod is currently in development and is being actively updated, and I would consider to currently be the most in-depth mod for Tomodachi Life.

The only reason I have not played this yet is other life obligations, but I have seen a lot of what's in it. I would still say that if you are interested in mods like this, I would definitely go check it out yourself!

---

But yeah, this is what I would consider to be interesting mods for the game if you are looking for something like that. All of these come from Gamebanana, and this is not the full extent of what is available on there, these are just some of my personal favorites. I suggest looking into it yourself if you are interested, or if you are interested in developing mods for the game yourself! I just wanted to highlight some mods that I find interesting. I may post some other mod related stuff if you are interested!

[the-crooked-library]

Blurred Lines: Agency and Victimhood in Gothic Horror

Seeing as Robert Eggers' Nosferatu has just breached a cool $135M at the worldwide box office, it might be as good a time to talk about this as any. I believe I echo the sentiments of most diehard fans of gothic horror when I say this: while we are glad to see this masterpiece meet with well-deserved success, these numbers also mean that a significant proportion of its audience has been previously unfamiliar with the hallmarks of our beloved genre; and the resulting disconnect between the viewers and the source material has been the driving force behind the great majority of the online discourse that surrounds it.

The tools and conventions of the gothic, as a genre, are essential to Nosferatu's primary narrative arc. Its central character, Ellen Hutter, cannot be discussed outside of her literary context. Textually, she balances between heroine and damsel in distress - blurred, in many ways, from mainstream understanding.

That is done entirely on purpose. There are numerous reasons for it; I could go into heavy detail about it; and I will - under the cut, of course.

The main thing I must make absolutely clear (before delving any deeper) is that the gothic genre is fundamentally non-literal. It deals heavily in metaphor, allegory, allusion, obfuscation - and, indeed, the blurred lines that have recently caused so much controversy online. This is by design. It is not a flaw of storytelling or interpretation. The gothic affronts the rigid, black-and-white, mainstream forms of morality because that is what it has always been designed to do; and the newer installments like Nosferatu do the same, being built upon those traditional foundations.

The historical background is therefore essential to the understanding of a gothic narrative. In this, the film does provide the viewer with a relatively easy starting point; its period setting amplifies its connection to its predecessors, as well as the societal pressures and systemic violence that it aims to challenge. It allows the audience to perceive the story through a historical lens that comes pre-installed, as a sort of short-cut to the genre's original social context.

The context, in this case, consists of misogyny, queerphobia, xenophobia, and ableism - which, while rampant even in the modern day, were that much more blatant in 1830s German Confederation, where/when the story largely takes place. Every human character, regardless of who they are, is influenced by these oppressive aspects of their society; and Ellen Hutter is hopelessly entrapped within all four.

Her social situation, as we are given to understand, is precarious. Though she was originally born into wealth, she married down to escape her abusive father. She is an eccentric - her "wild" inclinations (such as having a sense of dignity or loving the outdoors as a child) are enough to cause almost vitriolic disapproval; but on top of that, she was born with a psychic gift, which manifests in a way that is not dissimilar from a mental (and sometimes physical) disability. She and her husband are also English immigrants, and thus perpetual outsiders in Wisborg (this is also one of the reasons Thomas is so anxious to prove himself at Knock's firm, and so keen to emulate Harding in all things); and, finally, she implied to experience queer attraction - which, though non-explicit, repressed, and never truly indulged, still affects her and the way she is continuously treated throughout the film.

Overall, Ellen's existence is perceived, at best, as an inconvenience - and at worst, a scandal. With that, she fits seamlessly into her story's genre.

The "immoral," the forbidden, the taboo is a cornerstone of all gothic fiction. It exists in the doubt between light and dark, harm and desire, love and abuse. It is the domain of sympathetic villains (e.g. Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights), of imperfect victims (Bertha Mason, Jane Eyre), of heroes who are deeply flawed, who cause their own tragedies, and often fail to save anyone at all (Victor Frankenstein, Frankenstein). Within the gothic genre, there are no absolutes; and its contradicting balance of dichotomies provides a reference point - or, more accurately, a cultural triangulation - for exploring the same complexities that a binary puritanical mindset strives to eradicate. These include sexual desire, female autonomy, physical and mental disabilities, classism; in short, anything that gets people wincing.

The popular discussion of these topics is frequently cruel, often avoidant, and rarely straightforward or productive. As stated above, it makes people uncomfortable. It's not pleasant. However, for Ellen (and many people in the real world), it is, quite literally, impossible to avoid. It defines every aspect of her daily life.

What this means for her and for the story is that within a narrative that refuses to gloss over the imperfections of her surrounding society, her victimhood is not thrust upon her by a shadowy figure, emerging from the night. Instead, she is a victim - of an ongoing and systemic, rather than individual, abuse.

This aspect of Ellen's characterization lies at the core of her behaviour throughout the film. She is an unstable chimera of Brontë's Jane Eyre and Bertha Mason - in the sense that her actions are informed, in great part, by her acute awareness of her own disenfranchisement. She alternates between anguished raving and phlegmatic practicality, used to her pain but unable to entirely ignore it; and, the same way that Jane sees all the rage she feels (but cannot afford to express) manifested in Bertha, Ellen finds her counterpart in Orlok.

This is where the ambiguity begins.

Even though Orlok is most certainly a gothic villain, his relationship with Ellen cannot be interpreted as strictly adversarial. Naturally, it would be easy to ascribe their dynamic to grooming and PTSD; however, as previously mentioned, a gothic narrative is never surface-level - and the film itself never furnishes any information that would definitively limit it to that.

Firstly, to get the primary discourse point out of the way - yes, when Ellen and Orlok first meet within the ether, she is indeed young; and later, she is said to have been a child. However, at the time, the term "teenager"did not yet exist; Ellen's younger self is not portrayed by a child actress; and later, in 1838, she is referred to as a child multiple times - despite being an adult, married woman. Overall, within the film, the term is more often used to describe innocence and inexperience, rather than age; and her initial age is never specified. Granted, a multi-century age gap is not exactly "healthy" anyway - but this is a vampire story. It is per the course; and it complicates their relationship beyond a simple victim vs abuser narrative.

Secondly - and perhaps, most importantly - the overall impact of Orlok's coercion tactics falls flat in comparison to Ellen's human-world alternatives. Yes, he argues and threatens; but her social circumstances have never allowed her agency in the first place. Her father abuses, isolates, and threatens to institutionalize her; Thomas dismisses her concerns as "childish fantasies"; Harding and Sievers tie her down and drug her; Harding again kicks her out of the house. Her marriage, her friendships, are therefore all transactional; they grant her an escape from her father's house, relative financial stability, social support - on the condition that she represses her true self, pretends to be normal, doesn't threaten anyone's masculinity or heterosexuality, and acts like she's happy to be a deferring, obedient, settled wife. Being a daughter of a landed gentleman, she would never have been given a working woman's education, and evidently has no income of her own; and so, she has no options except to upkeep her end of the bargain - which means that her continued survival within mainstream society relies on constant background coercion.

Compared to this mundane, socially acceptable horror of her existence, the vampire actually offers her more autonomy than she is ever otherwise accorded. The terms of his covenant never threaten Ellen's own well-being; so on one hand, she has benevolence - and on the other, the dignity of choice.

This contrast lies at the heart of her dilemma. Ellen is torn between what she believes she should be and what she knows - and Orlok knows - she is.

One is "correct," moral, Good; the other is "wrong," sinful, Evil. However, at the same time, the first is manufactured; it is artificially designed, and must be continuously enforced. The second is primal. Natural. In accordance with gothic tradition, the appeal of Orlok is that he is forbidden, yet instinctive. By design, he is a reflection of everything that Ellen is forced to repress on a daily basis. That includes her rage, her ostracism, her abnormalities; but also, her desperate need to be respected, understood, and desired. He is both grotesque and alluring, both a lord and a beast, both cruel and reverent.

"He is my melancholy!.." cries Ellen.

"I am Heathcliff!" whispers Cathy.

Still, while Cathy and Heathcliff are primarily divided by class and racism, Orlok and Ellen are separated by moral considerations. In the explicit sense, Ellen cannot choose the Evil that Orlok represents. Within the surface narrative, she is obligated by her society, her morals, and the story to choose Good - in this case, by nobly sacrificing her individual expendable life to save her husband and a city full of people. Her primary storyline, like everything else, has already been decided for her.

For the Trekkies among us, this is Ellen's own Kobayashi Maru. A no-win scenario. As such, within the context of character analysis, her destination does not matter as much as the little things she does along the way; and it is no accident that, as the film progresses, the subtler, seemingly insignificant choices she makes within that framework just happen to bring her closer - and closer - to Orlok.

All of them are just innocuous enough to almost pass. She places a lock of perfumed hair in a locket that she gives to Thomas - and upon his arrival to the Carpathians, the same locket is immediately claimed by Orlok, who recognizes the scent of lilacs. Before making her sacrifice, she puts on her wedding dress and finds a bouquet of the same flowers - which is the sort of effort she didn't have to perform, especially given that he cannot resist her blood regardless. When Orlok arrives, she chooses to undress them both, and leads him to the bed, even though her previous sex scene with Thomas was entirely clothed; and in the morning, she pulls him close and holds him through the sunrise - even though he was already dying, and would not be able to escape. There was no need for her to touch his rotting flesh at that point, much less caress it.

There can be a "moral" explanation for all these actions; but the lack of direct obligation involved in them becomes increasingly blatant over the course of the story, and the doubt festers.

This sort of lingering ambiguity is precisely where gothic horror thrives - and intersects, scandalously, with romance. Gothic horror, much like bodice-ripper novels, noir thrillers, or "dark romance," builds much of its romantic intensity on the dichotomy of shame and desire. Imagine it, if you will, as a loom; warp and weft. It may even be described as literary BDSM - a continuous, mutually-agreed-upon act of roleplay between the author and their audience, and sometimes the characters themselves (though that depends). The point is to create an outlet for female, queer, or disabled sexualities, all of which are still heavily medicalized and restricted, derided, or denied entirely; and within these often intersecting genres, the violent or coercive intensity of the dominant lead (be it a vampire, a mafia don, or simply a more experienced lesbian) provides their repressed, seemingly passive counterpart an excuse to act upon their demonized erotic urges.

Between the page and the mind, everything that normally complicates a romantic or sexual encounter in the real world (subliminal hints, aggression, repressed and involuntary responses) becomes set dressing - serving to place a particular scene or dynamic within its fictional universe. The resulting Watsonian uncertainty is, naturally, part of the appeal. It is what allows the viewer/reader/listener a sincere emotional and sensual immersion; and for Ellen and Orlok, it provides an appropriately dramatic pretext for a night of tender vampire sex.

The discourse around their joining is painfully similar to the same that drifts around online every winter - in regards to the classic holiday hit, Baby it's Cold Outside. The song, written during an era in which extramarital sexuality was heavily restricted, follows a couple brainstorming excuses for the lady to stay the night; this intention was explicitly stated by both members of the original duet; but that hasn't stopped thousands of people from interpreting it as a "rape anthem." It is unsurprising, then, that an element of horror (guilt, shame, repression, coercion) muddles the water even further.

It's oddly apt, considering that the film premiered on Christmas Day.

Granted, I am not denying that there is an abusive aspect to Ellen and Orlok's connection, romantic or otherwise. However, to reduce Ellen to merely his "victim" is extremely inaccurate to her actual portrayal - because, within the framework of the film, her interactions with Orlok are the few in which she is actually able to exercise some form of agency. She never defers to him, their wedding-death hinges on her free will, as coerced as it may appear; and, in a fascinating subversion of a popular vampire trope, she is the one who summons him.

In gothic media, "Come to me!.." is invariably spoken by a vampire (or a vampire derivative like Erik, Leroux's titular Phantom of the Opera); their counterpart follows helplessly, without question; and giving these lines to Ellen is a dramatic deviation from tradition that fundamentally alters the underlying context of their power balance. By maintaining this call-and-response dynamic throughout the story, Eggers asserts that Ellen isn't helpless; and neither is she "in over her head." She is intelligent, powerful, and she has a tangible influence over Orlok, who is her only equal - which is why, ultimately, she is the one deciding where that relationship is headed.

That is not to say that any alternative readings of the film are entirely incorrect. As I have stated above, the abusive/toxic narrative is definitely present, and even essential, in gothic media. On the Doylist level, it is the equivalent of a whip, or a solid pair of cuffs - essentially, a divestment of responsibility; though, to continue the metaphor, not everyone shares the same kink - and those who do might not all enjoy it the same way, so there's definitely significant variation. What I am trying to say, however, is that each story does come with a central conflict; and Ellen Hutter's victimization - much like Jane Eyre's, like Thomasin's (The Witch, 2015) - is systemic.

She is ostracized, disrespected - infantilized if her oppressors are feeling benevolent, demonized when they are inconvenienced - and still expected to always prioritize her husband/friends/community by default, regardless of how she is treated by them. Her surrounding society, morality, religion, culture all insist upon the same; and this is why, despite knowing that she has done nothing wrong by following her nature, she carries an enormous amount of guilt in regards to those "unacceptable" aspects of herself. It is also the same reason why Orlok - the sensual, cruel, utterly devoted monster - is the answer to her lonely call; and the reason why everyone around her is so eager to see her as his victim, rather than a victim of anything they may have perpetrated themselves. Ellen's is a rich complexity, fed upon centuries' worth of gothic tradition, and she cannot be forced into a flat, genre-inappropriate simplification.

Like The Witch, like NBC Hannibal, like Interview With the Vampire before it - Nosferatu (2024) is a story of self-indulgence being so unfamiliar that it feels like a sin; or, like dying.

I, for one, would not deny her that.

[jjeremysstash]

Fixing Windows 11 - A Masterpost

Windows 11 is absolute crap for a good bunch of stuff so yeah, have a masterpost with most of the things I've found around to fix it haha (they're not all here because I did stuff around and I don't remember what)

YES, I KNOW at this point Linux would be a better alternative, however some here can't use Linux due to some proprietary programs that are not on Linux. This Masterpost is for the people in the same situation as I, aka those who have to have Windows or they can't do their job.

I am currently unemployed and haven't worked enough for the government to help me. I have a ko-fi if ever you want to help.

Stopping W11 from making you create an account/setting up your computer without internet (with a way to create gpedit.msc if your version doesn't have it)

Fixing the Taskbar (in case you also don't like the grouped Battery/internet/sound or the way the windows look)(there's more to it, check the settings)

There is the chance that Windows can't update because of this, you just have to uninstall it and reinstall it afterwards. They also completely nuked the Windows 10 look in the 24H2 update, so use the "Windows 10 (Explorer Patcher)" option instead of the plain "Windows 10".

Removing the rounded windows (since ExplorerPatcher doesn't do it anymore on 24H2)

https://github.com/valinet/Win11DisableRoundedCorners

How to move the volume and luminosity pop ups (so you can finally see those sweet sweet subtitles)

In case ModernFlyouts doesn't automatically start up, possible solution

Fixing the Start Menu (ExplorerPatcher can do that too, btw)

How to show all options right away

A way to bring back the Calendar

https://github.com/matej137/OutlookRemover

MICROSOFT FULLY NUKED THE CALENDAR!!! Possible fix is to downgrade the app (which is fine if you don't use the Mail), but do use the OutlookRemover to stop the automatic installation of the new version.

https://github.com/matej137/OutlookRemover/issues/15

Your Bluetooth suddenly doesn't work???

It happens sometimes for no clear reasons so here are a few things you can do:

Check if the icon is in the Taskbar. If not, verify if it is available in the pop up menu (the one from the gear icon)

If it's not here, check your parameter to see if you have the option to turn it on.

If it's still not here, reboot your PC.

If it's STILL not working, update your Bluetooth driver. You can do so by looking for "driver" in the menu and opening the Device Manager, then right click on the right Bluetooth component and update its driver.

If Windows says that the driver is up to date, try checking out this helper: https://support.microsoft.com/en-us/windows/fix-bluetooth-problems-in-windows-723e092f-03fa-858b-5c80-131ec3fba75c

If really nothing help, download and install a recent Bluetooth Driver. Be careful of what you download and from where.

Someone who stumbled on this post fixed it by downloading the Bluetooth Driver 5.0.1.1500 from Softonic (https://www.softonic.nl/download/bluetooth-driver/windows).

How to remove Copilot if you have it (I don't, but it might be because I'm in Europe??)

Archive

Apparently Copilot is being forced on people so hummm

Other stuff not specifically related to the shit W11 did

Changing the size of the scroll bars

How to fully remove Cortana

Website with tools to fix W10 and W11

[mesmerbyte]

Concept: Bimbo Programmer.

That might sound like a contradiction. Bimbos, famous for being vapid, vacuous, and more interested in appearances than any skills that make you think, in front of a computer all day?

But the thing is... computers are already everywhere. They're a part of daily life. If a girl wants to flirt effectively she's gotta know how to use social media. And then before she knows it, she'll be posting pics all the time. Then videos. Suddenly she's spending all her time in front of her pink monitors wearing her pink headphones, typing on her pink keyboard. Even the text she types is pink (just because she's using a computer doesn't mean it has to be drab).

When she goes out, people hit on her as always and while she loves the attention, it just doesn't hit the same as all the adoration she's getting online. It's all she can think about, so she just twirls her hair and giggles, but she already forgot what anyone said to her. Her mind’s on her phone. Or her computer. And how she needs to check it.

But as much as she loves it, social media is so much work. Like yes she gets to flirt and be sexy but she also has to manage the accounts and check notifications and set up her cameras and microphones and she's just not about all that.

Almost by accident she realizes she's got a talent for coding. She'd always thought code was so logical (blegh!) but there really was an artistry to it. Especially when it's written in hot pink.

First she just writes small scripts to automate her work so she has more time for the parts she likes. But then she figures out how to write a cute little function to hide in the metadata of her pictures to manipulate the algorithm and put her on more people's feeds. And then she figures out how to remotely and automatically install things other peoples' computers and phones.

When she gets stumped, she just absentmindedly plays with her tits until she works it out. And when she finishes a project, she reaches under her skirt to reward herself.

And before she knows it, she's written the most perfectly seductive program, not just to make people see her posts, but to subtly influence them until they could never resist her when they do.

Making every color duller except pink. Imperceptibly at first, the gradually ramping up until it's the user's favorite color and they're not sure why. Changing the text suggestions and autocorrect to be dumber and sexier. Inserting subliminal messages into all videos, but especially their porn. And when they finally do inevitably come across her posts, making every notification from her just a bit more pleasant than the others. A warmer symbol, a brighter chime.

One thing leads to another until they message her. Because of course they do. She's the hottest thing they've ever seen. And then...

She moans. The girl eating her out under her desk is doing such a good job and it's becoming hard to focus on her code. Time to take a break.

She stands, and the brunette under her desk pouts at the separation. A few short months ago the kneeling slut was a graduate student. Now all she wants to do is worship the bimbo who moments ago was at the keyboard.

But the student wouldn't be pouting for long. They had her professor in the other room, who had recently become addicted to his phone after said student submitted a paper with that pretty little metadata. Time to go break him in like the others. It’s only right that she get to join in too.

[sha-brytols]

hmmm. things i genuinely enjoyed about veilguard:

- cinematics and graphics are obviously gorgeous. i love watching the hair move it's hypnotizing.

- literally the first time ive ever played a dragon age game where i had the difficulty above casual because i didnt fucking hate the combat this time

- on that note Thank You for bringing back secondary long range weapon rogues

- bellara is literally the best and most down to earth representation of a character with adhd i've ever seen. john epler deserved a reward for that i think i've never seen a character with adhd before where i genuinely related to them on a deeper level i adore how emotional regulation and memory impairment and disorganization and CREATIVITY are actually shown in her depiction it's literally so perfect i need to kiss her on the lips

- on that note oh my god. east asian characters. finally.

- i just love neve idk

- unique dwarf interactivity oh my god fucking finally thank you for this i've been starving for so fucking long bro

- davrin is in my top 5 dragon age characters just in general. grey warden ✅ dalish hunter except the writers finally remembered "hunter" doesn't literally mean a food hunter its just how the dalish refer to their non-magic combatants ✅ griffon plotline finally resolved ✅ best romance in the game ✅ hrghgbgh breasts ✅

- personal issues with the modernization of their story aside i genuinely adored taash's gender discovery and the dinner scene with their mother was actually one of my favorite character moments of the game

- mythals voice actress just scratched a brain itch for me idk i just love how she talks

- the climax of harding's quest genuinely went hard as fuck holy shit

- siege of weisshaupt is and will forever be top 5 dragon age missions of all time

- on that note i was actually really pleasantly surprised by the depictions of the grey wardens. i feel like recent installments have been leaning so hard on the "brutal pragmatists" depiction of the wardens that it became easy to forget that at their core they're still. like. heroes. i did appreciate the game going out of its way to show BOTH their good sides and dark sides.

- emmrich's quest is a guilty pleasure i love how campy it is. hezenkoss' little finger gun was so fun

- the dream sequences with solas were definitely highlights of the game. despite common criticisms i think i actually liked how solas' portrayal leaned more towards his shady side. the way inquisition is more of his "wisdom" side while veilguard is more of "his pride" side was a nice experience

- ghilan'nain

[mistytpednaem]

late last year I had a dude my dad's age transplant my CPU, GPU and RAM into essentially a whole new chassis complete with all the other shit a PC needs to function and I have many regrets for a variety of reasons, but one baffling thing about the process that I only discovered recently is the wallpapers folder that this man left behind

like, it starts out normally enough,

but. you might notice.

oddities.

let's look at some of them more closely.

I'm not sure what img1 is supposed to convey. Is it supposed to be like, a virus thing? This is a boomer building PCs in a small town so I'm sure he's been paid for basic virus cleanup and maintenance many, many times. This is an EXTREMELY generous guess on my part, though, because there are far more inexplicable things coming.

ok this one isn't that weird, I just want you all to know how bad this dude's sense of graphic design is. also wait it IS kind of weird, what's windows 7 doing here??? this man was totally ready to install windows 11 (though when I said I'd rather stay on 10 for now he was like "oh yeah that's smart 11's no good for gamers yet"). that's his logo below the windows logo. I feel like I'm also being generous when I call it a logo.

is this just an intel marketing image that he slapped the name of his business on in MSPaint??? also my CPU's AMD but lbr this man made a "wallpapers" folder a decade ago and he just drags and drops it to every new windows install he's made since

HUH????????

IMG6 IS JUST A BLURRY JPEG OF SPEEDY GONZALES????????? I DON'T wait is it supposed to be like a metaphor. "i made your pc fast, like speedy gonzales, you're welcome"?? is this how the mind of a man in his late 50s works

I. frankly I should have saved this one for last because it doesn't get any more baffling than this, but I've been going in order so it'd feel wrong. this image is the only thing justifying my tentative interpretation of the stickman with the syringes sticking out of it, but that's all I can get from it. I don't know why this man apparently kins Dr. Wily, and the Simpsons, uh. The, the Simpsons,

look I'm going to translate the barely legible text because you might think it helps make sense of what's going on here

daaaaaaaamn it's alex!?! ... he fixed our PC and this is how we ended up !!!

BUT IT DOESN'T.

imgs 08, 09, 10 and 12 are all F1 cars with a crude MSPaint i5 GAMING Intel Racing by Windows 10 on top. I don't need to go over why this makes no sense again.

img11 raises a question, asks it, and in the end, provides no answer.

img13 is just the penguin doctor image from earlier, sans Dr. Wily, so I'm not posting it again. img-- ok no I know what I said earlier about going out of order but I AM going to save img14 for last because otherwise this post is going to end on a wet fart.

imgs 15 and 19 are identical except he wrote "Servidor" (server) on the latter.

these three i can see actually being MINORLY tailored to my build because my motherboard is Asus, but it isn't ROG, it's TUF and-- christ sorry I just realised he also crudely wrote "Asus" on the last one. that's the only difference between img16 and img18

and finally. left this one for last because I remembered that there IS one image in this folder that baffles me almost as much as "this pc repair job made us get naked, thanks dr. wily"

img14 is stolen Doctor Who fanart with the name of this man's business and Windows crudely written on top, and frankly, the second most surprising thing about it is that he didn't ALSO write the name of his business in Comic Sans.

[radiance1]

Vlad owns a bakery.

It is, however, on the very downlow. The CEO of a massively successful corporation being known as the owner of a mere bakery would make it far too easy for people to access him, which would then lead to him having to hire people to keep said people who didn't come for the bakery out and that would just really ruin the mood.

On the other hand, he's also keeping it a secret from the Fenton family, he doesn't need them trying to install their 'defense systems' into his bakery because first of all, he already had his own. Second of all he's strong enough that most ghosts don't even want to try him and he could take care of any normal human and thirdly, he doesn't want that bumbling fool to bust down his walls because he can't grasp the concept of a door.

His bakery is successful, not enough to be famous, but he has a steady selection of customers. He doesn't want his bakery to be famous either, he would prefer to keep a good pool of regulars that were nice and calm.

After all, money is never an issue.

Of course, he has a few part timers, who he pays handsomely for their time.

Simple logic really.

More money = happy = greater efficiency.

Of course, Vlad knows that he's overpaying them more than the normal amount, but does he care?

No.

Because after all, as he has said.

Money is never an issue.

Recently, there's been a man by the name of Constantine coming by his bakery, who came at first by recommendation, took one of his items, paid and then left.

Then came back a few days later, then when Vlad showed himself from inside his kitchen and personally took the guy's order (his usual part timer called in sick) and the guy seemed to stare at him for a second too long, before getting his stuff and leaving.

Then the time he visited became shorter.

And shorter.

Until he was visiting daily.

Constantine seemed to have a certain... interest, in Vlad whenever he was around, and of course, Vlad noticed. Why wouldn't he?

Now, Vlad normally wouldn't have the time nor want to respond to the crushes of people he couldn't care less about, especially when he had Maddie. But, after recently accepting that Maddie has no interest in him and finally deciding to let that obsession that was fueled by spite, pettiness and some misguided feelings go.

Well, you could say he had time.

And Constantine wasn't displeasing to the eye.

===

There was a demon masquerading as a normal man in this bakery.

Constantine was sure of it, the bakery owner didn't feel human, and Constantine could tell from a glance that he wasn't. He wasn't exactly expecting it though, going to a bakery after the one he actually liked shut down due to financial problems, and then finding its owner to be a demon.

He was surprised to say the least, as well as disappointed, because after dealing with the demon in disguise the bakery would most probably shut down.

Except, the owner wasn't going around secretly killing people in the dark or torturing their minds or making them his eternal servants. In fact, he seemed to be treating them well, if what he gathered was correct.

They had a far higher pay than a part timer would normally have, they could call in sick and Vlad would accept that, even say that they just couldn't show up or feel mentally able to do their job that day and Vlad wouldn't care, wouldn't fire them, just tell them to come in when they can.

Weird, for a demon.

So, Constantine stayed his hand.

But he was waiting, waiting for that mask to slip up juuuuust the tiniest bit, make the wrong move, and then Constantine would send him back to hell where he originated from.

It would be shame, the treats he cooked were delectable and completely and utterly normal. But he could just find another bakery to eat at.

Although probably not as good.

[kaykay0315]

Na Baek-Jin x F!Reader Part 1

No y/n   Warnings: fiighting, violence, same warnings as the show tbh.

Notes: You’re depicted with your hair up in a ponytail with a ribbon and brown hair

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: You recently transferred to Yeoil High School, you just want to get through school, get good grades and stay out of trouble. You’ve had enough of it in your past and don't want  to get involved with it any longer. But the world seems to not like the path you refuse to take, so it decides to put you in the worst place of all…sitting next to Na Baek-Jin, leader of the Union.

You really just wanted  a fresh start. Your mother convinced you it would be a good idea, that this was a great opportunity. It was a prestigious school, its brightest minds go here, They go on to be leaders, innovators, and change makers ....”It's a launchpad for lifelong success!” Your mother said, when trying to get you excited to go, but you also had to go alone. 

Maybe it's a good thing that you get to go alone, move into a one room flat near the school, nicely placed above a convenient store. 

You wouldn't have to worry about all the pressure from your mom and constantly be monitored, you're actually a bit surprised she didn't go with you, but then again, her job is more important than…this.

You finally placed the last of your bags in your flat, thankfully it came partly furnished, with a full size bed frame and mattress, a very used, but loved, couch that could maybe squeeze in four people, if they are half way on each other's laps that is…and a semi functioning tv surprisingly.

You dust off your hands and place your hands on your hips leaning back “well, guess it's time to go eat.” you grin to yourself and grab your wallet and new keys to your place. 

Making your way down towards the convenient store. The sun had just finished setting, and you traveled most of the day, so you were craving snacks. 

The door dinged as you entered, greeted by a very bored young college worker, not even bothering to look up from their phone and scroll lazily. You don’t really care though, you're just there to get your snacks and get out, maybe binge a movie you had downloaded. 

You're supposed to  be getting your wifi installed sometime this week. Your landlord has not specified when yet, maybe you should send him a message tomorrow and ask if he has any updates on that. 

You had grabbed a third item already, you had something sweet, something spicy, and something salty. Finally onto the drinks, definitely want either strawberry or banana milk…oooh maybe both. 

You gleefully grab one of each flavor, your arms full and turning to make your way to the front to check out, when you bump into something hard, you stumble back a bit off balance for a second before quickly regaining it, however your milks went flying down popping open with some milk splashing onto the brickwalls shoe. 

Wait…a brickwall’s shoe? You quickly look up to be met with the most piercing eyes you've ever seen. ‘Oh that's definitely not a brick wall.’ you think to yourself. You're a bit in shock, you hadn't seen or heard anyone when you had entered, maybe you were just too zoned out, only focusing on your hunger and not watching your surroundings. 

You finally pull your thoughts together and blurt out 

‘I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention, are you okay?” looking at him making sure you didn't shove him too hard, but to be honest you felt like you were the one being shoved with how forcefully you bounced off of him, hell! you thought you had run into a wall that just so happened to spawn directly behind you in a convenient store! 

He quickly glanced at his shoes and back up to your face, it looked like he was about to say something when someone called out to him. Coming around the corner was another guy, tall with shaggy hair and glasses, he was wearing a hoodie and had what was a dangling unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Lets go, i already got what I needed” The guy you had just ran into clenches his jaw slightly and sighs, simply walking away and out the door. 

The classroom buzzed with chatter as the homeroom teacher stepped in, followed by a quiet girl in a crisp uniform. The moment she entered, Na Baek-jin lifted his eyes, not out of curiosity, but out of habit. He liked knowing his surroundings.

She stood at the front of the room, shifting slightly under the weight of so many eyes analyzing her.

"This is the new student. She transferred here from Seoul Arts High. She’ll be joining us for the rest of the year."

Na Baek-jin noted the way she clutched the strap of her backpack. She wasn’t scared…just… calculating, maybe. Like someone used to watching before acting. Then he finally looked at her, really looked at her and realized, it's her. The same girl who had bumped into him the night before at the convenience store. That struck a chord.

She gave a small bow, her voice soft but clear. “Please take care of me.” 

The seat beside Na Baek-jin was empty. Of course it was.

Most students were too intimidated to sit next to him unless they had to. The rumors, the quiet stare, the reputation…it all worked like an invisible force field.

The teacher gestured. “You’ll sit over there, beside Na Baek-jin.”

She nodded once, her black ribbon swaying slightly as she turned and walked through the narrow rows of desks. Each step was precise but unhurried. No one could quite tell if she was nervous, confident, or just good at pretending.

As she approached, Baek-jin glanced sideways. Long ponytail, perfectly tied ribbon. Not a wrinkle on her uniform. But her shoes, clean, but scuffed around the edges. She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. Didn’t look at him right away. Just organized her desk; pen, notebook, schedule, all placed neatly. Shespared a quick glance and nod of acknowledgement towards him. He kept his face straight the rest of class, onlt focusing towards the boards or his notes….

One month earlier: Seoul Arts High School

The rooftop was quiet except for the hum of air vents and the distant echo of yelling from the gym. Ha-eun’s black ribbon fluttered in the wind, still tied neatly even as blood stained the corner of her collar.

Three boys were groaning on the concrete. One was trying to crawl to his feet. The other two weren’t moving.

Ha-eun stood in the middle of them, not panting. Not trembling. Just… still. She rolled her shoulder with a soft wince. That last one had gotten a solid hit to her ribs before she ended it.

“You started this,�� she muttered, glancing down at the ringleader—the one who’d yanked her bag off earlier that week and told her she should “smile more.”

He spat on the floor beside her shoe. “You’re fucking insane…”

She crouched in front of him, her voice soft and scarily calm. “No. I’m just done letting people like you decide who gets to speak and who doesn’t.”  She didn’t wait for a reply, he wasn’t with it.

Her footsteps echoed down the stairwell. No one was there; most students were still in class. She moved quietly, adjusting her sleeve where it had been torn, tugging it to cover the scrape on her forearm. The pain was distant, her mind was already shifting ahead.

The building smelled like dust and old chalk. On the first floor, she ducked into the girls’ bathroom. A girl washing her hands gave her a double take, eyes widening at the blood.

You offered her a small, polite smile.

“It’s not mine,” she said flatly, and walked into a stall.

Fifteen minutes later she steps out into the fading afternoon sun. The breeze was cool against her bruised ribs. Her ribbon still held tight.

No one followed. No one saw.

She pulled out her phone, unlocked it, and opened her planner app.

Trigonometry review – p. 124-127

Lit essay due Monday – outline tonight

Midterm chem vocab – flashcards (30 min)

A faint ringing echoed in her ears, the kind that followed an adrenaline crash, but her focus stayed sharp. She could still make it home by 5:30 if she didn’t stop.

She took the quieter roads, weaving through alleyways and shop-lined backstreets. School bag slung over one shoulder. Headphones in, but no music playing.

It was a habit. She liked to look like she wasn’t listening. People acted differently when they thought no one was paying attention.

Halfway home, she passed a cracked mirror nailed to a telephone pole.

She paused.

In the reflection, her face was calm, unbothered. Hair still neat. The ribbon still perfect.

But if you looked closely….you’d see it.

The tightness in her jaw.

The redness on her knuckles.

The glint in her eyes that didn’t belong to a girl who just studied hard and kept to herself.

She fixed the collar of her blouse, brushing away a faint smudge of blood.

“No one saw,” she murmured, then started walking again.

Soooooo what do we think???? I haven’t written in a long time T T

Part 2 Part 3

[forgingtheblade]

how do you keep your pants up when you’re performing? it’s incredible!

belt.

i started this with a sheet of upholstery vinyl that i laminated together front and back using heat-n-bond. i then cut out each of the pieces i needed and painted the edges with a black satin paint to create the illusion of burnished leather! i used riveting tools to cut out all of the holes on the belt, and of course, to install the rivets that hold the buckle in place.

the first belt accessory is the potion! i’ve had this bottle sitting around for like three and a half years now, empty, from the target dollar spot around halloween. it was finally time to put it to good use! the solution is water, acrylic inks for color, and gold and silver mics powder for the shimmer when agitated! i was trying to capture the nuances between the greyish color of the turtle master potion in recent updates, and the bluish purple of the enchantment glints prior. after mixing it up, i simply sealed it with some silicone. all of these materials were just things i had sitting around my studio already, which is awesome.

i cut and painted more strips, and modeled a potion holder after ones i’ve seen at every renfaire and convention vendor hall since i can remember. no use changing up a formula that works! i did end up adding a decorative cover to the snap here, and painting the rivets to match the belt’s hardware.

using the same processes, i made a loop to feed through the loop on the totem!

again modeled vaguely after another design for a sword frog i liked online, i sketched up a pattern for a weapon frog! i wanted it to be somewhat versatile since i’ll have more than one weapon i’ll want to put in it, so i opted for three snap straps to hold whatever weapon it is in place. again, i covered the snaps with decorative ones and painted all the rivets gold.

it fits toothpick with just a little give, so it can fit a weapon up to just a little bit bigger around than toothpick’s upper handle!

originally that was everything i had planned for the belt, faux leather wise, but I realized there was no way in hell i was carrying a bag with this cosplay, so I wanted a pouch for my phone. I made a couple mistakes while working on this. most notably, I chose a metallic cord for the thread. why did i do this. it took probably twice as long as it would have had i just used embroidery floss because of the nightmare challenges metallic threads pose.

I do think it ultimately turned out nice, though!

The only pictures I have with all of the finished pieces on the belt at once are on the next full costume sneak peek, so you’ll have to wait either for those to be ready or for me to finish the wither skull props, whichever comes first ;)

taglist under the cut, reply or send an ask to be added!

@too-much-alphabet-soup, @embers-archive , @nothing-to-see-around-here, @pluralphilza, @aleeaviancrowalt, @islib

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Putting my new Jonah series out there!

I really love the Carlos/TK/Jonah family. I blame them entirely for casting the most precious child in the world to play Jonah. I have three fics posted about their family, and have several more started/planned.

I named the series after a quote from the 2003 Freaky Friday (which that movie remains a BANGER. That is one sequel I am like YES PLEASE TAKE MY MONEY I WANT THIS MOVIE SO BAD!!)

Back to this-

Here is a snippet of my most recent Tarlos and Jonah fic, I'll Like You For Always-

“Don’t you work today?” Jonah asked as Carlos carried him back into the kitchen. “Will they be mad?”

“Nope,” Carlos shook his head. “I’m not going in today, and I pulled some strings and I’m only going in for a half day tomorrow. Because what’s the number one rule in this house?”

“Boogers don’t belong on the table,” Jonah answered.

“Not that one,” Carlos said as TK bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t laugh. “That is a good rule, mijo, but I meant another one. Family…”

“Family comes first!” Jonah exclaimed, clapping that he got it right.

“You got it, bud,” TK nodded with a grin.

This is from the third installment - I'll Like You For Always- where Jonah has a small medical emergency and spends a lot of time having TK and Carlos read the book Gwyn read to TK when he was little.

Second installment- Razzle, Mr. Strand-Reyes? - Mother's Day approaches; Tarlos and Jonah get ready to change their last names and TK struggles with missing his mom.

First installment - Little Pitchers - TK doesn't realize how closely Jonah listens to him when driving around.

And in case you're reading these and wondering- what the hell is Owen doing there? I started this fic the day after the finale aired-

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home - Owen is gravely injured on the job of chief in New York and contemplates if he shouldn't have left Austin.

No pressure to read, just tagging people in case they're interested- i'm just very excited to usher in this new era of LS fic - @anewkindofme @laneybishop89 @firstprince-history-huh @kiankiwi @carlos-in-glasses @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlossreaders @ssealie @henrygrass @the-126-family @strandnreyes @reyestrandd @paperstorm @afiendishthingynisba @annoyingcloudearthquake @tailoredshirt @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @tailoredshirt @thisbuildinghasfeelings @liminalmemories21 @literateowl @guardian-angle22 @reasonandfaithinharmony @mrs-corrections-78 @lightningboltreader @welcomehometk @welcometololaland @herefortarlos @everlastingday @whatsintheboxmh @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ironheartwriter @rangersoup

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

it flows and it flows and it flows

cw. selfship-coded, f!reader (no specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friend au, reader eats a defined devil fruit, love as sacrifice, denial of feelings + mutual pining, vulture culture mention

pairing. portgas d. ace x black!fem!reader

synopsis. as a hydrophiliac, eating a devil fruit is a horrifying thought. as a pirate, eating a devil fruit is an incredibly dumb decision. you'll gladly embrace the horrors and stupidity to keep your loved ones safe.

notes. the way i planned on writing something else for my next childhood friend au installment but this decided it would be making a cameo first whoops. cover comes from monet's impression, sunrise (1872) it just reminds me of ace.

For its moniker of Faerie Faerie Fruit, it isn’t pretty to look at.

The name itself invokes the imagery of translucent wings, tinkling laughter and pixie dust at your fingertips. The fruit in your hands invokes anything but the aforementioned. No, this fruit seems more akin to invoking something out of your nightmares with its gray and pruny peel. All the more damning is the way the face of the fruit is caved in, like a woman in mourning.

According to the encyclopedia you’d skimmed through, once upon a time, this isn’t even the ugliest the Faerie Faerie Fruit can achieve. That has been allocated to the sickly green Goblin model. Knowing this does nothing to quell how unsettling the fruit in your hands is to look at. A fitting feeling for Model Banshee, the variant of the Faerie Faerie Fruit that had fallen in your hands on this most recent adventure across the Moss Isles.

“You should eat it!” Wallace insisted at dinner with a sharp-toothed grin, holding his keg of beer in your direction. “Then the Spades'll finally have a power holder besides the captain!”

Ace squinted at the good-natured fishman with an offended pout, leaning over as best as he could with Kotatsu on his lap. “So I’m not good enough now, Wallace?” The gray lynx mewed, disgruntled at the movement and Ace settled down. “It’s nice to know how you really feel!” In spite of his words, Ace’s lips were curled into a smile as he snickered. He blended perfectly against the Grand Line’s reddening sky, carmine and vermillion painted against the clouds.

“Won’t it be confusing to have two banshees on the ship though,” you asked with a half-smile in return, nodding in the direction of the strawberry blonde. At the mention of her name, the woman grinned at you impishly.

“Maybe you should sell it to me then,” the ginger nodded in satisfaction at the thought. “Then I really would be a banshee!”

“You want it?” You leaned over with intrigued.

As quickly as she brought it up, Banshee shot it down, “no offense to Ace, but if I’m gonna be a pirate,” she gestured beyond the borders of the Spadille, to the sea itself. “I want the security of knowing I won’t drown if I fall into the ocean.” A chorus of laughter followed as Ace whined that his eating the Flame Flame Fruit had only been an accident. A very unforeseen accident.

In one exchange, you were brought back to square one.

You sigh, unable to help a few chuckles. It’s only luck your time on Sixis Island didn’t result in you losing your ability to swim then when you unknowingly bit into the Flame Flame Fruit. Being the first to bite into it, only Ace received any abilities from it. As much as he hadn’t been prepared to eat the thing, however, you can admit it is an ability that suits him.

Ace is like a flame that draws in anyone lucky enough to notice its glow. You want more and more people to see it and relish the warmth of your friend as much as you do.

That doesn’t mean you want to necessarily join him in the ranks of being cursed to drown should you fall into a body of water. Eat, sell or toss it back into the depths for someone else to discover. Those are the only options for a person who finds a devil fruit.

“You shouldn’t eat it anyway,” Ace told you softly when the conversation moved on to a different topic. “You love swimming.”

You love water as easily as you breathe. It has been one of your best friends since your childhood on Dawn Island.

You remember jumping into crocodile infested rivers.

You can hear Luffy’s sniffles as he clung to you desperately. How Sabo sighed, “Can’t you become one with the water in a way that doesn’t look like you drowned?” How Ace, whose face donned more scowls than smiles at 10, rasped a fist against your head in agreement and ranting all the while.

You recall the cool of the returning tide as you looked for seashells on the beach. Then you’d take each one back to Dadan’s, resting them beside your growing collection of unconventional treasures of mummified paws, empty turtle shells and dissected owl pellets. Seashells and stones were the bones of the sea and earth respectively, your grandfather had told you once, so they belonged with your treasure trove as much as any of your other finds.

I wonder if Dadan’s tossed all that out by now, you wonder vaguely. Well if she does, I hope she doesn’t touch my eggs. Protect ‘em for me, Luffy. You remember the beaming haul of large anaconda eggs you’d painted over after Dadan cracked them open for breakfast. There had been four for each of you.

A yellow egg for Luffy, a red egg for Ace and blue for Sabo before you finally painted one over in your own favorite color. You think Sabo’s egg is the collective favorite of the members of your quartet that remain.

It’s only been 7 months or so since you left your life on Dawn Island but it feels like it has been years. Yet throughout it all, the ocean had been a steady companion.

You love it as an extension of your very being.

And yet…

Sloppily drawn eggs and raucous laughter filling the air when you should have been sleeping flood your mind. Your eyes rest on the creepy fruit resting in your hand once again. You don’t necessarily desire joining Ace and Luffy in the ranks of incurring the disdain of the sea, truly. But-

“Flameo, Hotman,” you say suddenly at the approaching heat and footsteps that announce Ace’s presence before his words can.

Ace grins as he rests his arms on the edge of the Spadille, “how’d you know it was me,” he asks unnecessarily, sea breeze running its invisible fingers through his wavy locks. Your eyes crinkle from how you smile at the sight. 

You nudge him carefully, fingers tightening slightly over the fruit in your hands, “I felt the furnace getting closer and closer.”

Ace snorts, signature grin on his face. It should feel stranger, seeing him smile so much when he tended to frown and furrow his brow constantly when you were children, but it doesn’t. Smiles suit Ace more than any other expression you’ve seen him have in the past. “What are you over here thinking about?” His eyes dart to the fruit in your hands. “Are you gonna throw it back?”

“It certainly crossed my mind,” you admit with a shrug. Maybe if you hadn’t stopped to think about the past, you would have. The fact you hesitated is more than enough of a sign that your heart hadn’t been into the idea. “I changed my mind, though.”

“What does it do anyway?” Ace poked the wrinkly face with a curious finger.

“Banshees are supposed to be some kind of faerie of death,” you think back to your base information you know about the beings the fruit derives its name. “When someone is gonna die soon, they scream and keen to let people know. But that’s about all that’s really known about ‘em. When you think about it, it kinda suits me, huh?” He hums thoughtfully, looking at the thing deeply and you continue on. “Remember when you gave me my first turtle shell?”

The freckled man’s face softens with a nostalgic smile, “Dadan said boys are supposed to give girls flowers not corpses.” You can hear the cranky woman’s voice even now, exasperated at how you excitedly twirled with the item in your hand. She never quite understood your interest in vulture culture but beside the odd complaint, she never discouraged it.

“I thought it was pretty cool,” you snicker in return. “But you probably should default to flowers whenever you find someone you like. I don’t know if they’d be as appreciative as me.” Whoever that person is, they’ll be lucky. You disregard the strange itch in your chest and thoughts of sky blue hair as Ace rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He may think the idea of someone loving him is ludicrous but he’s an idiot when it comes to such notions.

Portgas D. Ace is special and deserves to be loved in a special way. He will be, someday.

With a sigh, you turn so your back is facing the edge of the ship rather than your front. “Anyways,” you divert the topic back to the former. “I have to admit that it’s pretty useful, objectively thinking. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna avoid death like the plague.” Your heart clenches uncomfortably once more, albeit for a reason you can discern.

Ace nods at your words, “it’ll definitely go for a lot when we get to the next island. So try not to accidentally drop it now that you’ve decided you won’t be doing it intentionally.”

“Oh shut up,” you snort but not unkindly.

But he’s right, this would probably go for a shit ton, not that you know how many berries most devil fruit go for on the market. A devil fruit that grants its user the ability to sense death, however, certainly is above the average.

A smile missing a tooth comes to mind and you have to stop yourself from squeezing additional indents into the Faerie Faerie Fruit. The rough hands of your grandfather covering your own as he shows you how hook a worm follows.

Sabo and Grandpa are gone, there’s no bringing them back.

There are people you love who are still here though, your thumb brushes against the face of the fruit. Indented in anguish as it silently screams for the imminent loss of life. You glance at Ace who is content to stare out at the waves carrying the crew to its next destination. You feel yourself smiling again before you can stop yourself, wistful.

You love the water, it’s as easy as breathing. It’s been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You remember listening with giddy awe to your grandfather recounting how taking you out the bath as a baby was nigh impossible unless the tub was empty first.

You can hear Makino’s panic as you groggily wake up, realizing you fell asleep in the midst of your floating. Your head hung sheepishly as she scolded you, voice uncharacteristically sharp about the dangers of falling asleep in the ocean. “Heaven forbid the sea king was around!”

You recall the shared panic of Luffy falling underneath a lake’s surface, you, Ace and Sabo diving after him in unison.

If you could become the ocean itself, you’d gladly do so and let your limbs dissolve into it and feel the pulse of every living creature residing within.

Another sigh slips from your lips as you look over your shoulder at the sunset-stained gem the Piece of Spadille sails across. I’m really going to miss being in it. You don’t necessarily want the curse eating a devil fruit will bring, but even if you can’t swim in it anymore you will find ways to still enjoy it.

With solidified determination, you bite into the ominous fruit resting in your hands without a second thought.

At your movement, Ace looks in your direction.

His eyes go from inquisitive to as wide as dinner plates in the span of seconds, calling out your name in frantic surprise. “What are you doing?!” Large, freckled hands reach for you and you side step him immediately before breaking into a run. “Spit it out!”

God this tastes awful, you nearly gag but you force yourself to swallow the piece anyway. Hearing heavy boots chasing after you, you bite into the wrinkled fruit once more. Just in case the first bite doesn’t take.

“Um, [First]?” You barely hear Deuce’s confused reaction. “Ace?”

“Can you stop Ace for me? Thanks!” You call back to the masked man.

“Stop her from being an idiot!” Ace shouts after you.

The Masked Deuce smartly decides being neutral is his only course of action. “You guys figure it out! We’ll, uh, we’ll be over here!”

You could squeal from how close he is but you manage to bite into the foul-tasting flesh a final time before warm arms wrap around your waist, preventing further escape. You swallow instinctively.

“[First]!” You pull against how he tries to grapple your possession from your hands. Try as you might, you aren’t able to get a fourth bite in. You squeeze your eyes shut, not that it does much but it does prevent you from seeing what is undoubtedly an Ace with a frown.

“Can’t spit out anything,” you cry before Ace can start that up once again. It is far too late for the man to do anything about your consuming the Faerie Faerie Fruit. “I already bit into the shit three times!”

“But why?!” Ace asks incredulously. 

“Because it’s useful! I’m not giving this sort of ability up!” You stop wriggling, knowing it is redundant when you’ve already done what you’ve set out to do. “I just,” you open your eyes, downcast. “I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about.”

If you were to ever sense Ace or Luffy’s deaths, it will break you. At least you know in those moments, you’ll be able to do something about it. There doesn’t have to be anymore Grandpas or Sabos, not for you. Not if you can stop it. You’ll gladly eat a dozen more Faerie Faerie Fruits if it gives you any ability to keep them safe.

There’s a pause then a groan of resignation as your feet touch the deck again. I guess there’s no point in eating anymore of this, you look at what remains of the fruit. You aren’t sure exactly how it will change you in ways beyond a newly acquired death ping. You resign yourself to eating the rest regardless.

The silence isn’t entirely uncomfortable but it isn’t comfortable either, it just is. There’s nothing else that can be done about your decision.

“You can’t ever take this back, you know,” his voice is soft.

“I know,” you murmur after the last of the devil fruit has been eaten. “I don’t need the ocean like that anyway.” You will find new ways to enjoy it. Finally you turn to look at the man who has been your closest friend since you were 10. You were practically family. Family, that’s right. Family looks out for each other. You are going to look out for Portgas D. Ace whether he likes it or not, you promised yourself this after you met Old Man Naguri.

Even as Ace looks at you with equal parts acceptance and sorrow on your behalf, you think the sacrifice is worth it. It’s bitter but the sweet in your chest outweighs it.

“That’s one more thing we have in common,” you try to lighten the mood. “Paramecia and Logia differences aside.”

Ace sighs but he gives you a snicker of courtesy, “I would have been fine with us not having this in common.”

“Eeeh, you’ll get over it.” I’ll get over it, you chuckle, turning back to face the horizon. The sun’s almost been swallowed entirely by the sea and there are more things dotting the sky than you remember there being a few minutes ago. Your eyes widen at the ghastly image of whales swimming through the skies as if unaware their time has passed many moons ago.

Whales, stingrays, sharks and unidentifiable fish as far as you can see.

A silent procession across the Grand Line only for your newly acquired eyes. It almost makes you want to cry.

“Is everything alright,” Ace draws you back in, eyebrows knit in concern.

You wonder if Grandpa and Sabo’s ghosts are gallivanting about Dawn Island.

“Yeah.”

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"I THINK YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL"

I wrote another fic with Dave 🖤

I hope you like it! (this is probably one of the cutest fics I've written with him lol)

Dave had been talking to you online for several weeks. You lived two cities apart, so you'd never met in person.

It all started as a joke from his friend Todd, who told him he was too scared to install a dating app on his computer.

Of course, he did. He installed one and started chatting with you on the social networking site.

At first, Dave thought you were just a typical single mom looking for a young man to warm her bed at night, but it turned out you were the same age and liked almost the same things.

You both read comics, hated puzzles, and hated the riddles on the back of cereal boxes. They seemed like stupid things, but they meant a lot to both of you.

Then everything changed. When you talked that day, you told him you'd decided to take the bus to meet him in person. Dave's breath caught in his throat for a moment before he sent you a text with his address and a timid "I'll be waiting for you" as a final flourish.

Two long hours passed.

Two hours in which Dave thought you had lied to him, and that you were laughing at him.

Then he replayed your conversations in his head, and even though he hadn't met you in person, he knew you wouldn't do something like that.

The front doorbell rang. Dave's heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he looked at the most recent message on his computer screen.

"I'm here," you said.

He quickly went downstairs, and after adjusting his hair a bit in the hallway mirror and taking two deep breaths, he opened the door.

And there you were.

For a few moments, neither of you was able to say anything. You watched him, and he watched you, still not quite believing that this was real, that it was actually happening.

"Hi," he greeted, flashing a shy smile as he stepped aside, "please come in."

He closed the door as you entered, and you took in the house. It was pretty and very bright. He followed your gaze for a moment before heading into the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?" —he asked, opening the fridge— I'm afraid I only have orange juice and water

—Water is fine— you chose— It's horribly hot out there— you complained, fanning yourself theatrically with your hand, making him laugh—

—Yes— he agreed, pouring the water into a glass and handing it to you— It's cool— he warned— It'll do you good.

—Thanks— you murmured, taking a sip before placing it on the stovetop— It's a pleasure to finally meet you, supermanisthebest58— you laughed, saying his username. You'd never shared your real names before— What's your real name?— you asked—

—Dave— he introduced himself— And you?

-Y/N -you smiled shyly- He mimicked your gesture.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just can't believe this is finally happening," he confessed. "That you're actually here in my house." He tilted his head toward you. "It feels like a dream."

"Am I what you expected?" you asked under his scrutiny. He blushed all the way to the roots of his hair at the question.

"I… yes… no…" He took a deep breath for a moment to organize his thoughts. "I think you're beautiful," he finally said, making you smile before sitting down on the living room couch. "We can watch something on Netflix, if you want. There are several documentaries about serial killers, and just as many about UFO sightings in Nevada," he said while browsing through the platform's catalog.

He noticed you looking at him and slowly turned his head toward you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" "He murmured shyly."

"You're just as I expected, Dave," you said, smiling.

A silence settled between you for a few moments, before, without knowing exactly what he was doing, he lowered his gaze to your lips, and you did the same.

You moved a little closer and gently placed your lips on his. He closed his eyes, and you did too, before he began to move slowly. You kissed for a few more minutes before you slowly broke away.

"Maybe it's unexpected," he murmured, "but I think I love you."

You smiled before kissing him again.

"I love you too, Dave."

[jaythewriter]

Hi guys... I wrote a little something it's not much but it's a start and it's based on the first prompt that I wrote its un edited so sorry for the grammar mistakes and all. So um Enjoy!

It was a late night for you. It felt off, felt a little cooler than usual tonight. The frogs and the cicadas were quiet tonight, almost too damn quiet. The light sound of that new washer the twins helped you install recently was the most comforting on this strange night.

Somehow it had seemed darker than it had when you were awake but a strange noise had woken you. The sound of rustling had spooked you, you didn't think too much of it til you heard it again….then again. You had assumed it was the stray dogs or the raccoons until you heard a faint growl. It was low, rough and ragged, filled with need. It sounded animalistic but oh so human.

You sat up in your bed, breath caught in your chest trying to blame it on your lack of sleep but you knew you were too conscious to woke to ignore how close it had sounded. In the heat of the moment you let your feet hit the cool wood of your floor and for the first time in a long time it's like you felt the house breathe. Not how it used to… No it was like it was gently whispering, beckoning you…

You crept down the hall as if it wasn't your home, like it wasn't where you laid your head at night. You had reached for something, anything that would help ease the rising pit in your stomach. Your fingers ran along the cool silver barrel of your daddy’s shotgun. It had been years since you held it you weren't even sure if it was loaded.

You took another slow, sweet agonizing breath before attempting to square your shoulders and ease down the hallway. The house seemed to get quiet… to quiet as you checked from room to room. Hinges croaking under the old worn wood.

Nothing…You had found nothing letting your shoulders slump, letting your body ease as you entered the last room, your washroom. It felt cooler than the rest of the house. Everything had seemed as you left it except for that unnerving sound of the wind blowing through your open window.

“Must'a lef it open.” You uttered softly with a small huff of relief. Fingers reaching for the latch before closing it for good but in the heat of the moment you could have sworn you seen something shine red in the distance.

The house had finally felt quiet and even then you couldn't sleep. You stared up at the ceiling after you had returned to bed, not thinking, not moving just starin. You did that often. You probably stayed like that for hours until you decided that you wanted to be productive.

The sun had rose from the dead by the time you'd actually get up. You swept, mopped and cooked all while humming the blues. It wasn't until you were folding your laundry that you knew something was off.

A few of your favorite garments were either missing or straight up mangled.

“This washer ain't what it's like they say it was on the radio.” You uttered under your breath as you mourned over your favorite pair of panties.

“I reckon I's Gotta get some new ones.” You huffed before throwing them out.

It was around noon when you had left, you never truly liked how the hot Mississippi sun felt against your skin. You liked it better when she's low in the sky settling down for the night.

You walked out the house in your mother's old shawl and a slip dress ain't no reason to get dolled up you ain't got no one to see. Just stopping by the store to get brand-new garments.

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 05/23: Fanfiction!

Hello and good morning to you all, and welcome once again to another Fandom Friday. As always, this is your host Coffeelorian or if you prefer, just plain Coffee, back with another round of fanfiction from around the vast fandom that is Star Wars.

Before we begin, I would like to thank everyone who voted in my most recent poll, as it’s certainly given me a better idea of just where to take this. Therefore, I will proceed as normal with an installment for Fanart next week, or at least as well as time may allow with my ever-changing schedule.

And now, since I can think of no further announcements…here are my picks of the week.

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction: "Zee and Mephistopheles: The Battle For Attention Begins", by @se-sissy-lina04

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction: "Experimentations in Amorous Connection: Chapter 1", by @dangraccoon The Bad Batch Fanfiction: "Cross and Crow, First Chapter" by @levi-venn

STAR WARS REBELS

Star Wars Rebels Fanfiction: "Untitled", by @anarcoqueer1994 Star Wars Rebels Fanfiction: "Shev'la Verd", by @lavenderlemonade47

ANDOR

Andor Fanfiction: "The First Night", by @andorsdoll Andor Fanfiction: "The Weight", by @littleenglishfangirl

THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY

The Original Trilogy Fanfiction: "The Dutiful Son", by @lex-the-flex

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

If anybody likes what they see here AND would enjoy seeing more posts like this; please drop the rock star emoji (👩‍🎤) into the comments or reblogs, and I’ll be sure to tag you when the next update comes.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, and above all else, please stay safe out there.

No Pressure Tags: @algo-o-nada @the-osborn-way @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom @aknightreaderr

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenathegreengirl @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @snoowply @apocalyp-tech-a 

@totally-not-your-babe @totallywizard07 and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.