#Restore Registry

[techdirectarchive]

Video on how to Back Up and Restore Windows Registry

Video showing how to Back Up and Restore Windows Registry The Windows Registry is a hierarchical database that stores low-level settings for the Microsoft Windows operating system and for applications that opt to use the registry. In this video, we will discuss how to Back Up and Restore the Windows Registry. Please see How to search through the Windows registry, how to create Restore Point in…

[styafiya-blog]

The corrupt System that controls us: an analysis

To take any stands for what you believing take a lot of understanding about the world around you when you can see the corrupt Systems controls everything moving and floating,machine, and computer software or anything else that you want to discover on your own. you have to be ready to face the world that they controls with what they tell them. if you can see the side that listening to word and believe without no proof of what they hire that will change the way you look at the human behaviors  populations. I live in Jamaica Queen’s new Adventures  york I experience  personal development of the  people that doesn't understand that when they are doing  music it is not like streets deals that doesn't govern under law of government papers works they taking action speed against the copyright rules that  protects the American public decoration independent law. I learned they hack my tablets phone Macbook own all the songs note instrumental videos creation they when as for playing them on commercial radio online radio and forgetting who  is the real creator. I see lot of them in the public pointing fingers after they did that my question is to whoever reads  this article what type of people steal from you and don't give you  your credit I let you solve it and find the answer remember all nations did that.

Let look at my situation, I have no job system send law man to  attack me day and night when the other one sleep the other one verbally picking fight and you have to keep your cool. remember now no money not coming at all I can't pay rent or phone bill cannabis smoking is off the my lists because I need money to by that when I am in the street trying avoiding troubles where I stay at I get pick  on lie too all day keeping mind I am doing business online and one side of the system giving douity to steal from  my internet income and blocking the flow of my net  on top of that  all the business I do with mailing they post office law stops  all pay checks  some night I go to bed without food hopes that someone that I send the 32 complain wakeup to what new york police is doing  going against the law that protects the American public people.

What I found so strange is that I am running more than 16 blogs online the government that I continue to contact about web stealing and hacked,  I thought they was going to promote one of them to see how they do web stealing ,all my music pages and websites  block from the search engines I realized they taking to me as if everything is okay I believe they are tricking the  hold worldwide population of people and not telling them they are keeping I down and doing business with my mind.  I tell myself I will never live in down falls America that killing stars for they creation  questions to the public worldwide people how they know that they are stealing from the people web if they don't promote one of my blogs or websites that the wrong system  is completely controlling.

[jacesvelaryons]

His Chosen Bride (Senator!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol Reader).

Chapter 1

masterlist

series masterlist

excerpt

summary: senator coriolanus snow seems on top of the world with everything in his life ahead of him except for one thing. the perfect bride. in his pursuit, your life changes forever.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank you everyone for your patience as I prepared this!! i hope you all love it and show your support through likes, reblogs and especially comments of what you thought! i love hearing what my readers and other people in the fandom think about my work, so any of your thoughts would be appreciated.

requests OPEN

Upon his return to the Capitol, his reputation restored, wealth acquired from the Plinths who so generously named him the heir to their grand fortune, his path to power was paved for him and he knew he just had to take the strides to get to the prize. The Presidency.

Coriolanus Snow, scion of one of the oldest and most elite of bloodlines of the great Panem families was home, his shameful exile to District 12 remembered by no one and purged from the registry.

Enrolled in university and an apprentice gamemaker, he was eventually promoted to become Senior Gamemaker upon Dr. Gaul’s semi-retirement and her preparation to hand off the reins to her protégé. Her brain child whom she molded from the vestiges of his sorrow and pain, of his loss in the districts and what hardened him into the man he was now.

When he graduated with honours from the political science department, it was only a few months before he was elected in a landslide to become the youngest Senator in Panem’s history, relying on his contributions to the recent games, memories of his late parents to those of a certain age to secure his win.

He would have considered re-election for another term before advisors of his and other cabinet members of the old, sickly President Ravinstill were close to swearing their support but all echoed the same thing that he lacked, they said. It was not his youth, he was wise for his age they said, but he was not married. If he had a wife, they said - they would be on board for his presidential election. And it seemed that election would be sooner than later, even before his first term finished.

Coriolanus needed to find a wife, not just of good breeding, but of the most impeccable lineage, from among the most illustrious hundred or so families of Capitol society. It was a given it would be purely political and strategic, someone whom he could not love and open his heart to after his previous tragedy pursuing such.

The perfect bride. The search for the perfect companion, the woman whom he would call his wife, his future first lady, and mother of his heirs. The ideal woman who would bridge the gap between his dreams to make them a reality.

He could not just choose the first possible candidate recommended to him or that caught his eye, Coriolanus had to devise a thorough, multi-step testing process to find his perfect wife, his bride.

A rigorous procedure would be curated in finding her. Interviews, tests, exams, genealogical inquiries, fitness tests, and practice scenarios will be prompted from eligible candidates, already filtering through those only from the old, grand families upon application.

Digging through his family library into the latest edition handbook of noble and elite families of the Capitol’s upper class, the creme de la creme, ignoring recently disgraced clans, ones full of scandal and controversy, with plenty of illegitimate children, and extinct ones rotting in poverty nearly like his own had he not reversed their fortune.

He scheduled a meeting with his advisors and closest allies on creating the program, the selection process, examinations and interrogation, and how to make the announcement for the families of these eligible girls to put their names in, with their consent or not.

Coriolanus Snow was born from the upper echelon of society, and only deserved the best woman with whom he would continue his lineage with and hail his presidency with. No one had dared, rather self-important he could argue if he cared, to make as many girls clamour for his attention rather than to propose to a woman of his choice.

Just as he was about to put the book down and shut it closed, a name caught his attention. Yours. Your lineage, accomplishments, your etiquette were second to none, and he had to have you. At all costs. He would burn heaven and hell, but the question remains - would he win you over? Or will he have to force your hand no matter what?

Besides, he requires others to choose from, even if you are the most qualified. It would not do well for your ego to have the satisfaction you were chosen for. He wants you to want it, to beg for it, claim it and aspire to be one worthy to be by his side, motivated by the competition who would slit your throat and ruin your reputation for it.

And yet a lingering thought crept up his mind. He had brought life back into the Hunger Games, that was on its dying breath before his arrival, why not another? Everything is a game if you try hard enough.

…

A brightly lit room surrounded you as you grabbed a few more pieces of dandelions and baby’s breath bunches for your bouquet, in your floral arrangement lessons for the week. Under the watchful eye of your teacher, a premiere florist who is hired by the Capitol’s elite for the most fashionable and well-sought events every season.

Hailing from one of the oldest families among the Capitol’s blue bloods, your family may not be the wealthiest but definitely prosperous to be among them, yet your lineage is prominent even before Panem’s founding, the most ancient of them all.

In your family home’s perfectly manicured garden, you immerse yourself in the arrangement, something that would impress your teacher yet also something you would find pleasant in a vase by your study. No way would someone of your heritage be found associating with anything subpar.

After your studies at the Academy, your lessons and tutoring would never end, usually something different for each day. Piano, ballet, etiquette, floristry, household management, painting and so on.

As you gathered a crimson bow around the branches of your bouquet, you could hear murmurs among the uniformly dressed maids and servants around the stately home, as your mother jaunted towards you in her glossy designer heels.

“Yes, mother?” You greeted politely, observing the unreadable expression on your mother’s face.

She approached you carefully, gently taking your hands in her own, soft and having never experienced hardship.

“A great honour has been bestowed on you, daughter. A promising Senator has taken a liking to you, and wants you to be considered for his future bride.” Your mother smiles in celebration and pride, and your brows furrow in consternation.

“A Senator as old as father? A man old enough to be my grandfather-”

“Hush, darling. He is young, from a proper family of the elite family unlike those Plinths, new money scum. Senator Coriolanus Snow, the son of late General Crassus Snow and his wife Victoria Snow. He is only twenty four, I think you would like him.” She brushes your hair behind your ears, but you turn away from her, pushing her hands away.

“Twenty four, when I am eighteen?”

Your mother shrugs. “It is the way of the world I suppose. I was your age when I met your father. Eighteen and he was twenty one, a match fit for the sort like us.”

“You mentioned I was being considered but no outright proposal or courting has begun. What do you mean?”

She unveiled a large envelope she was holding behind her back, taking it out for you before a gold hued canvas invitation was unveiled.

Dear Y/N L/N and family, I hope this letter finds you well. As I have progressed through my career as a gamemaker and politician, it has been too long since I have navigated through life without a lifelong companion and wife.

You are a woman of unblemished character, accomplished in many ways, intelligent, well-bred and would fit the bill of what a man like me seeks in a future partner.

There is no guarantee that you must receive this invitation and accept, but rather that your name will be included in a pool of candidates to be considered. I hope that you and your family would view this as a position of honour, and even if you shall not be chosen, you will be compensated for your time and this shall only raise your standing in our society.

Please reply to the number and address attached below with your response, and I would be beholden and pleased to hear if you would put your name forward to possibly become my future First Lady.

Sincerely, Senator Coriolanus Snow

You could not believe it, the humiliation of not being asked directly for one’s hand in marriage but having to compete with other ladies of society and grovel for his attention.

“Are you and papa seriously making me do this? The Hunger Games to be someone’s wife and heir maker?!”

Your mother sighs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms. “You do not understand, child. I have heard of other elite families whose daughters, sisters, nieces such as the Heavensbees, the Cardews, Dovecotes, among a few have been invited and all have accepted. No one would even think to refuse a Snow!”

“But it is not guaranteed. How would I not be offended if he did not make a guaranteed offer but wants me to participate like I am in a beauty pageant. I have to close off even entertaining other suitors and I am not even assured that I will not be left dry and humiliated if I was not chosen.”

“Your grandmother was Miss Panem many years ago before the war and those rebels ruined everything, I am sure he will choose you. Even if he did not, any other unmarried peer of yours would scoop you up in no time, that if Snow perceived you as someone potential, they are from the cream of the crop.”

You sighed, putting down your shearing tools and your bunches of daisies and baby’s breath. You never liked roses.

“You have always aimed for the stars, daughter. Would you pass on an opportunity like this or be forgotten to the tombs of time?” Your mother suggests, walking over to you with a guiding hand on your shoulder. “Choose wisely if you want to make something of yourself, to not pass on opportunities like this.

Golden letter in hand, you stared intensely at the dark line above your name, signifying whether you would submit your name or not. With a bold stroke of your ink pen, you sign your fate and future away. I agree to participate.

Let the games begin.

His Chosen Bride Taglist:

(if your name is bolded, I put in your user but it didn't show up when prompted so I'm not sure if you got notified!) Please let me know if you'd like to be added and reminded every time I update.

@xsunaxrinx @bialuvss @emma0320 @callieyanderechan @crimsonred13 @starcrosslove @castellandiangelo @sylmthadmnglla13 @tragicmiserybone @o12lk22gr @anna-stasia @paumartinezsstuff @coriosbunni @nora4us @jupiterstearx @corvinaweeb @batman1asf @imperfectophelia @madmaxsalltoowell @vicky2408 @folklorelogy @bradpittwh0re @linaa20 @abcde601375 @kickmybark @emynunez21 @princessofthereach @maeve-a24 @ellie-bellie-29 @ashfromurfire @dante-pearl @yuuuumii @kxksksjjd @everythingjp @frill0 @aslalali @addriaenne @joyfulyouthlover @rbrsvb @motomami111 @imamybubbles @x-gabrielle-x @crystalstars88 @cc13723things @izzy02soph @shycandykitty @thtweirdointhecornr1917 @drpeperrlover11 @starmaiden @itz-me-cherie @papi-chulo69000 @meetmeatyourworst @sombodynotimportant @hyunjinspdf @bellaramseysgirlfriend @mari-mari12 @kis9na @lvrdilfs @mizuki80mizuki80 @deago21 @hafisjfjsit @miniatureblazellama @livid-euphoria @sugaxmamii @kropka4321 @jamesyrobin @joana2934 @kotadislikesthissite @byisy @shinae28 @atlasedelgard @eimearj123 @urfavewh0r3 @sophs-sofa @dreammie-marrie @cos-ilsee @nikolaikirche0 @bigwmc66 @mandoskenobi @theswreties @soniusstuff @1lovesnowballs @bitvhese @craftycloudcollection @byraaaaan19 @mythic-moon-moth @reading-in-velaris @bestboymikey @marytargaryen @cleverpeachheropersona @adeline32sblog @snowdrops-png @lysonal @tiffdx @bingxuu @noothemoo

[machine-saint]

the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong

why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).

anyway the tl;dr here is:

you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates

i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.

this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.

as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.

there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.

the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.

there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.

temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about

programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.

'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.

your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.

[secretmellowblog]

Les Mis Hidden Name Meanings: “Fantine” (posting here because it got popular on TikTok)

Every character in Les Mis has a name with a deeper symbolic meaning— here’s a video I made for the official @barricadescon TikTok about the meaning behind “Fantine!”

Transcript and Digressions I left out of the video, under the cut:

Every charcater’s name in Les Mis is either a pun, a reference to a historical/mythological figure, or had some deep symbolic meaning — and sometimes it’s all of them at on.

The name “Fantine” comes from the french word “enfantine” or “childike, infant-like.” Her name basically means “Baby.” And obviously this speaks to her innocence and niavetee. But also “baby” is kind of,.,, well it sounds more like an informal term of endearment than an actual legal name?

And that’s because– Plot twist– Fantine isn’t her legal name! What is her legal name? She doesn’t have one.

And the reason she doesn’t have one is directly tied to political turmoil of the era she was born into.

Fantine grew up an orphan living on the streets, without a family without parents. Hugo tells us the origin of her name:

“she bore on her brow the sign of the anonymous and the unknown. (...)She was called Fantine. Why Fantine? She had never borne any other name. At the epoch of her birth the Directory still existed. She had no family name; she had no family; no baptismal name; the Church no longer existed. She bore the name which pleased the first random passer-by, who had encountered her, when a very small child, running bare-legged in the street. She received the name as she received the water from the clouds upon her brow when it rained.”

This moment is adapted beautifully in the Manga adaptation by Takahiro Arai, which I recommend to anyone who loves Les mis, manga, or any combination of those things.

But now let’s talk about the Directory.

To wildly oversimplifly a lot of complex history: Before the French Revolution, the Catholic Church’s records of baptismal ceremonies were often used as a registry of people’s legal names. During the French Revolution, the Revolutionary government– including the Directory– put in place a series of policies we now call “dechristianization,” where they attempted to dismantle the power of Catholic church.

Fantine was born during the age of these dechristianization policies. So she was never baptised, her baptismal name was never recorded, so she has no recorded legal or family name. She’s slipped through the cracks of the legal system, and ended up completely anonymous.

It sets Fantine up as this anonymous child of the Revolution– a stand in for everyone who was left behind when the Revolution was left behind, and kings were restored to the throne.

Fantine’s namelessness is meant to show atomized . How she has NO support system. She has nothing to connect her to other people, nothing to connect her to a support system.

Finally, the way Fantine tends to “slip through the cracks” is something that follows her throughout her life. When she’s fired from her job at a factory, Maroy Madeleine never learns of it– Fantine has this tendency to overlooked and forgotten. She is born anonymous and she dies anonymous. At the end of the story, she is buried in an unmarked grave, with not even the name “Fantine” on her headstone.

It ties into novel’s questions about which people we consider worth remembering, whose lives are worth being records.

And obviously Fantine is not the only character in Les Mis whose name has a deeper symbolic meaning. If you have any other Les Mis character names you’d like to explain, leave their name in the comments below.

Thank you for watching!

From the description of the original tiktok, here are some things that were left out of the video for time:

How this all relates to Cosette’s name(s)

Fantine’s nickname “The Blonde,” and how this relates to the way she’s dehumanized by Tholomyes

How the 2018 Bbc series fundamentally misunderstands Fantine’s character, and how one sign of this is that they give her a full legal first and last name

How Fantine’s name shows up/is revealed is significant parts of the story (like when Valjean reveals her signature on a letter to Thenardier, allowing him to take Cosette away)

How Fantine’s inability to write ties into the way it’s difficult for her to record her own story

How some of Valjean’s last words are revealing Fantine’s name to Cosette

Thanks again for reading!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge: Unleashing the Power of Muscle

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

In 1962, a new era of muscle cars emerged, radiating brilliance and power. Chrysler led the way with their groundbreaking Max Wedge lineup, introducing the world to the fusion of unitized-body construction and the high-performance ram-tuned dual-carbureted 413 CI engine. Among these legends was the Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge, a remarkable vehicle that holds a significant place in automotive history.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

The First Super Stock Max Wedge with Manual Transmission According to the esteemed Chrysler Registry and the meticulous documentation by Darrell Davis, this specific Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge holds a groundbreaking distinction—it was the first Super Stock model equipped with a manual transmission. The car’s odometer displays a mere 6,593 miles and has undergone a meticulous restoration process to return it to its original specifications. Notably, the engine has been upgraded, boasting a dyno-proven power output exceeding 500 HP.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Unleashing the Power of the 413 CI V-8 Engine The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge was powered by the formidable 413 CI V-8 engine. This was the first iteration of Chrysler’s renowned ram induction system, featuring a cross-ram intake manifold meticulously designed to optimize engine efficiency. The engine’s performance was further enhanced by the utilization of cast-iron header-style manifolds, which were rarely preserved but featured in this exceptional vehicle. Dale Reed of California refreshed the engine around 300 miles ago, ensuring its optimal performance. The correct Carter AFB carburetors reside beneath dual black air cleaners, accentuated by carefully placed decals.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

A Unique Manual Transmission Experience One of the distinctive aspects of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is its manual transmission. Unlike its automatic counterparts, this car delivers a unique driving experience through its floor-mounted shifter, allowing the driver to truly feel the power at their fingertips. Paired with a full aftermarket exhaust equipped with cutouts and the robust 8 ¾ Chrysler differential, this Max Wedge offers an exhilarating ride for those who crave the thrill of the open road.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Captivating Style and Authenticity The exterior of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge embodies the spirit of the era. Finished in captivating light blue paint, it exudes a timeless charm. The interior features a complementary blue cloth-and-vinyl combination, while the white-and-blue two-tone trim adds an elegant touch. The front and rear bench seats provide comfort, and the radio delete plate pays homage to the car’s performance-focused nature. Notably, it features a knee-knocker S-W column-mounted tachometer and a beautifully presented trio of rubber pedals. The car’s attention to detail is evident throughout, with the inclusion of circa-1962 chrome fonts, single-lens tail lamps, and OEM steel wheels adorned with poverty-type hubcaps.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Provenance and Documentation Accompanying this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is a wealth of provenance and documentation that adds to its allure. It includes the original OEM IBM punch card and build sheet, which serve as a testament to its authenticity. Additionally, the window sticker provides insight into its original specifications, while the dyno sheet confirms its impressive horsepower rating. Vintage photos capture the car’s early years when it was part of a famous drag car collection, showcasing its illustrious past.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Conclusion The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge stands as a testament to the golden age of muscle cars. With its groundbreaking manual transmission configuration, powerful 413 CI V-8 engine, and captivating style, it represents the pinnacle of Mopar’s storied performance heritage. Meticulously restored to its original glory, this Max Wedge allows enthusiasts to experience a bygone era’s raw power and timeless charm.

FAQs: How many miles does the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge have? The odometer of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge reads 6,593 miles. Who documented the Chrysler Registry for this particular car? The meticulous documentation of the Chrysler Registry for this car was done by Darrell Davis. Has the engine of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge been upgraded? Yes, the engine of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge has been upgraded to a dyno-proven 500-plus HP. What is the significance of the 413 CI V-8 engine in this car? The 413 CI V-8 engine in this car was the first to receive Chrysler’s shortened version of ram induction, known as the cross-ram intake. It maximizes engine efficiency and pairs it with rarely preserved cast-iron header-style manifolds. What documentation and provenance come with this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge? This Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge comes with various documentation, including the OEM IBM punch card, build sheet, window sticker, dyno sheet confirming horsepower rating, and vintage photos of its early years as part of a famous drag car collection.

[empirearchives]

Napoleon’s reforms

As it is Napoleon’s death day (May 5th), I decided to make a collection of some of my posts with Napoleon’s reforms. This is not an exhaustive list of all of Napoleon’s reforms, just what I’ve been able to post about thus far, and I plan to dedicate many more posts to the subject.

Abolition of torture

British renunciation of the title “King of France”

Cadaster (land registry)

Canned food

Central Vaccine Committee & the Society for the Extinction of Smallpox

Child labor laws

Citizen cooks & the Society for the Encouragement of National Industy

Concordat of 1801

Constitution of 1799 (universal suffrage)

Education

Freedom of religion

Grand Sanhedrin

Imperial nobility

Legal impact (list of law codes)

Legal impact (part 2)

Metric system

Napoleonic Code in Bavaria

Paris Bourse

Paris Fire Brigade

Paris Health Council

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Prison reforms and changes

Reforms in Italy (undone during the Restoration)

Regulations limiting pollution

Restoration of universities

Rumford soup kitchens

Sewers and Sanitation

Smallpox vaccine

Society for the Encouragement of Fine Arts Brussels

Sorbonne university

Sugar beet industry & trade

Sugar (part 2)

Switzerland (Napoleon’s impact in the country)

Tax collection system

Treaty of Campo Formio

Unification of the Italian peninsula

Water policies

Women artists in Napoleonic France

Women writers in Napoleonic France

[arliedraws]

Okay but wait. Sirius ousting Greyback and taking over as pack leader, and he definitely illegally has a wand and does magic (some are spells he read in books in the Black family library, others are made up because he's just That Smart), and then one day this obscenely handsome man who says his name is James Potter appears in camp and says he's from the Order of the Phoenix....and he has a counteroffer from Albus Dumbledore...and he comes in completely wandless and defenseless and is at the mercy of Sirius....ooooooh yes this is delicious. I need it.

Dude. I was thinking about this on the way home. Ideas:

- Sirius is bitten when he’s off wandering after dark as a child, maybe at a Black country house

- In attempt to conceal their son’s affliction, Orion and Walburga Black try to keep him contained during his transformations—ultimately, this leads to the werewolf breaking free of his prison and killing them and Regulus. The rest of the Blacks cast him out, and he’s taken in by Greyback and lives with his pack.

And then I start rambling even more below:

- Sirius really doesn’t like Greyback, but as a child, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to stay. He grows up, wishing he could go to Hogwarts but Greyback forbids it, so Sirius attempts to find ways of being a wizard on his own. This leads to him stealing wands until he finds one that suits him. By the time he’s a teenager, he’s created spells and charms and learned a few things from his fellow pack-mates who went to Hogwarts. Greyback, however, begins to see Sirius as a threat to his power—this leads to bloody altercations during the full moon. Finally, Greyback realizes he picked the wrong boy to bite—Sirius isn’t going to follow his lead forever, so he tries to kill Sirius. The pack, however, is tired of Greyback and supports the teenaged Sirius as the new pack leader, ousting Greyback (who, of course, vows revenge).

- As pack leader to the 15-20 members, Sirius takes his position very seriously. He finds them a new place to live—maybe an old, abandoned country house (an abandoned Black house?)—and they begin to thrive as a little feral community. This pack becomes stronger and stronger, attracting more and more werewolves, and Sirius struggles to keep their pack secret, forbidding the pack from creating more werewolves.

- I can’t get out of my head Sirius loving the kids of their pack and playing with them and just being fiercely protective of them.

- The pack is also basically a gang, and they survive off of theft and other small crimes, but it’s attracting Ministry attention. When Voldemort comes to the 22-year-old pack leader, offering protection and full privileges of a wizard in exchange for the werewolves’ loyalty, Sirius finds it difficult to resist, but doesn’t trust Voldemort at all. Voldemort promises to restore him to his birthright as the Black heir, but Sirius doubts it.

- With the Ministry hot on their trail, Sirius knows he’s either got to move the pack or break it up or accept Voldemort’s protection. THEN, James Potter shows up. He relinquishes his wand, claiming he comes in peace.

- Sirius is a bit surprised that Dumbledore knows where the pack is, but James assures him they’ll leave the pack alone even if Sirius refuses Dumbledore’s offer. Sirius doesn’t trust wizards, and he doesn’t trust James, although he’s drawn to this sharply intelligent, handsome young wizard. James can’t help but like Sirius too, and he laments to Sirius that they didn’t go to Hogwarts together.

- The offer is simple: the Order will help keep the pack concealed and keep each member from the Werewolf Registry (which keeps werewolves from getting jobs and strips them of particular rights as part of the magical community). Sirius scoffs at the idea that Dumbledore would have the pack assimilate into society, but the idea that the pack could earn money instead of having to resort to theft is tempting. Sirius considers it—and then adds a new stipulation: James is a fully qualified wizard and he MUST teach Sirius all that he knows. Which means James will have to visit weekly :)

- Other drama. I dunno, Harry’s gotta exist somehow.

- Maybe Greyback has started a new pack and has pledged loyalty to Voldemort. Now that Sirius has accepted the Order’s offer, his pack is under threat.

- yada yada yada, this shit writes itself

Thank you for going on this journey with me, Imp. I can’t get this out of my head.

[techav]

On Boot Failures

Headlines everywhere on Friday, the 19th of July, 2024 were about the massive computer outages caused by a faulty update to the CrowdStrike antivirus software. It seems some config file choked up a kernel module causing Windows machines to fail with the infamous Blue Screen of Death.

I recently started a new job and was perhaps a little smug in the fact that in my new job I am no longer responsible for hundreds of endpoints running CrowdStrike.

Karma's a bitch though.

I shut down my home PC Friday night to install a memory upgrade and after powering it back on I was met with the very same Blue Screen of Death.

"A critical process died" it told me, with no information about what said process actually was.

And no log files.

And no dump files.

System Restore failed. sfc /scannow failed. dism /cleanup-image failed. Everything I could find failed. I couldn't even just reinstall Windows over the existing installation because apparently that requires being already booted into the OS that currently isn't running.

The log files from dism led me to believe the problem might be related to registry corruption, but my attempts at replacing system registry files with clean ones from an install wim were not successful.

I was grasping at straws. Starting from scratch with a clean install is daunting and would have set me back weeks. I was contemplating pulling out an old SSD and just running with Linux Mint for a while.

Through desperation, I downloaded Hiren's BootCD PE so I could poke around a little more. None of the tools included there were able to resolve the issue either, but just having access to a standard Explorer shell and a web browser helped.

Finally I came across ShadowCopyView, a program that can explore the System Restore images that Windows (can) take regularly. In one last desperate effort, I moved out all of the system registry files from C:\Windows\System32\config and used ShadowCopyView to replace them with copies from an automatic restore point the previous Monday.

That actually did the trick. I was able to reboot into my primary Windows partition and sign in like normal.

I have no idea what may have been lost in a few days of registry updates, and I have no idea what may have caused the problem to begin with. But I am happy I was able to find something in the end that would get me back into my system without having to reinstall everything from scratch.

... Although maybe I should anyway.

And should anyone encounter something similar in the future, these were the kind of errors I was seeing that a Google search wasn't really coming up with anything useful:

dism.log: failed to open registry root

dism.log: failed to query for path to user profiles directory

dism.log: failed to load the default user profile registry hive

dism.log: failed to load offline store from boot directory

srttrail.txt: pending package install

strtrail.txt: boot manager generic failure

[barkingbonzo]

The Women 1939

The Women is a 1939 American comedy-drama film directed by George Cukor. The film is based on Clare Boothe Luce's 1936 play of the same name and was adapted for the screen by Anita Loos and Jane Murfin, who had to make the film acceptable for the Production Code for it to be released.

The film stars Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, Paulette Goddard, Joan Fontaine, Lucile Watson, Mary Boland, Florence Nash, and Virginia Grey. Marjorie Main and Phyllis Povah also appear, reprising their stage roles from the play. Ruth Hussey, Virginia Weidler, Butterfly McQueen, Theresa Harris, and Hedda Hopper also appear in smaller roles. Fontaine was the last surviving actress with a credited role in the film; she died in 2013.

The film continued the play's all-female tradition—the entire cast of more than 130 speaking roles was female. Set in the glamorous Manhattan apartments of high society evoked by Cedric Gibbons, and in Reno, Nevada, where they obtain their divorces, it presents an acidic commentary on the pampered lives and power struggles of various rich, bored wives and other women they come into contact with.

Filmed in black and white, it includes a six-minute fashion parade filmed in Technicolor, featuring Adrian's most outré designs; often cut in modern screenings, it has been restored by Turner Classic Movies. On DVD, the original black-and-white fashion show, which is a different take, is available for the first time.

Throughout The Women, not a single male character is seen or heard. The attention to detail was such that even in props such as portraits, only female figures are represented, and several animals which appeared as pets were also female. The only exceptions are a poster-drawing of a bull in the fashion show segment, a framed portrait of Stephen Haines as a boy, a figurine on Mary's night stand, and an advertisement on the back of the magazine Peggy reads at Mary's house before lunch that contains a photograph of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

In 2007, The Women was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".

[piececake]

Remove an Installed EP

This can be a little difficult on Steam, but there is a method. Usually if you just untick the EP in the Properties for Sims 3, you will begin to receive an error message that there was an error during start-up and "please see the log". Helpful, right?

In order to properly uninstall the EP, you must also edit your registry. As always, editing the registry is Serious Business, and could completely hose your computer or your game. Always back up your registry and Sims saves before doing this.

To uninstall an EP from a Steam install of The Sims 3 (do not skip a step): 1. Shut down The Sims 3 completely.

2. In your Steam Library, right-click The Sims 3 and choose Properties.

3. In the Download tab, untick the EP you don't want to use any more then close the Properites window.

4. Create a System Restore Point (in Windows, right-click My Computer or your version thereof; select Properties; select System Protection; click "Create").

5. In Windows, use your "Find" charm or "Run" box to run the program regedit.exe.

6. In Registry Editor, go to File > Export and save the file to somewhere you can find it easily. This is in case something goes wrong.

7. In Registry Editor, navigate to your Sims 3 registry keys. This is normally found under: HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE > SOFTWARE > Wow6432Node > Sims(Steam)

8. There you will see a list of all EPs and SPs that you have installed. Right-click the EP you want to uninstall, and choose "Delete". After this, your game should start normally. Steam Guide by cruinne

[techdirectarchive]

(via How to Back Up and Restore the Windows Registry)

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the heart | Chapter 24

DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fantasy. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT.

Chapter 24

And at last, the day of prosecution finally arrived. The court was brimming with people.

Arnav as a prosecution lawyer started first, "Your Honor, today we stand before you to seek justice for the countless lives that have been devastated by a criminal conspiracy rooted in greed, brutality, and the complete disregard for human dignity. The defendants in this case are not mere opportunistic criminals. They are orchestrators of a scheme that goes beyond mere dacoity. They preyed upon the innocent, massacred entire families, and took lives in cold blood to satisfy their insatiable hunger for power and wealth."

After a brief pause, he started again, "This case goes beyond punishment. It's about restoring justice for the victims. We ask you to affirm that no one is above the law and that justice will prevail. Thank you."

The the defence lawyer stepped forward, "Your Honor, my prosecutor friend paints my client as a heartless criminal, but we must remember the foundation of our justice system: the presumption of innocence. My client, Mr. Rajjani, is a respected individual who was caught in an unfortunate situation. On the day in question, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. His presence was purely incidental. The prosecution's case against him relies on circumstantial evidence and assumptions. We ask you to carefully consider the facts and recognize that Mr. Rajjani is not guilty of the crimes for which he has been accused. Thank you."

"Nice speech, Mr. Patel," Arnav remarked with a nod as Mr. Patel concluded his opening argument.

Mr. Patel adjusted his spectacles, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "For you to learn from it, my friend," he replied smoothly, his tone both genial and slightly teasing. A slight smirk curled in the corner of Arnav's lips.

Mr. Kishori Lal Patel was a distinguished and seasoned lawyer, a man who carried the weight of decades of experience on his shoulders. However, it was disheartening that his expertise was being applied to the defence of someone implicated in such grave and serious offences.

Then, the court proceedings began. The investigating police officer, the medical examiners, and the Registrar of Deeds of the Land Registry Office all of them involving the Tiwari case gave their testimony. And then, to everyone's surprise, Arnav called Mr. Lallan as the state witness to testify in the witness box. Mr. Lallan identified his accomplices and confirmed that Mr. Rajjani was also a member of the group. He also told the court about the involvement of Mr.Lala. Following his testimony, the defence lawyer commenced cross-examination.

"Mr. Lallan, why should we believe that you're not lying just to avoid the death penalty?" the defence lawyer began.

"Objection, speculation."

"I can ask that question, Your Honour." Mr.Patel protested.

"Overruled . Please continue Mr.Patel."

"Thank you Your Honour. Please answer my question Mr.Lallan."

"I am telling the truth."

"Very well. The other accused had never seen each other's faces before. Are you certain you saw my clients, Mr. Rajjani, and Mr. Lala during these attacks?" the defence lawyer asked.

"We all have a similar tattoo on our thighs. You can check him too," Mr. Lallan said eagerly, causing a ripple of whispers to spread through the crowd. This was precisely what Arnav had hoped for, and Mr. Lallan did not disappoint him.

As the judge ordered everyone to expose their thighs and reveal their identical tattoos, the case seemed to be nearing its conclusion. However, Arnav requested one more witness to be brought to the stand. He detailed the pattern of the previous cases and the documents collected from the Land Registry Office to link the cases together, a proof that these events were not purely coincidental. Then he asked the sole survivor to testify. Madumati Ji took her place in the witness box and took her oath.

"Madumati Ji, please tell us what happened that night," Arnav asked, his voice steady and commanding.

"Objection, Relevance."

"Didn't I submit the evidences to link these cases together? " Arnav retorted.

"Overruled, witnesses may answer the question."

"Thank you, your honour. So tell us about the night, Madhumati ji."

"Hayree Nand Kishor, That was a horrible night,''Madumati Ji began, her voice trembling. "I heard Khushi, I mean, Sashi Gupta's daughter screaming in her room, so I rushed to see what was happening. What I saw there.." She took a deep breathbstruggling to continue, "Garima Ji was being assaulted by a man."

"Please be clear, Madumati Ji," Arnav urged, his tone firm but gentle.

"He was forcing himself on her,'' Madumati Ji whispered. ''And another man was approaching Khushi. That man was near the door. They didn't see me. So I grabbed the door bolt and struck him with all my strength. When he fell, I took Khushi and hid with her in a crevice in the kitchen. I don't know how long we stayed there until I heard Mahindar Ji's voice."

"Thank you, Madumati ji. Did you see any of their faces?" Arnav asked softly.

"No, Nand Kishor, their faces were covered with a gamcha, but both had a mark shaped like a star on their thigh."

"Did you inform the police at that time?"

"Yes."

"Anything else, Madhumati ji?"

"Yes, the man who assaulted Garima ji was naked. He had a large black mark on his back, kind of a birthmark. I reported it to the police as well."

"Thank you, Madhumati ji."

"Your Honor, this is a copy of the drawing of the tattoo and Madumati ji's statement from 12 years ago." Arnav handed the documents to the court clerk, who passed them to the judge. The picture displayed a pentagonal star-shaped tattoo."The same tattoo our state witness, Mr.Lallan talked about and also present on our defendants' bodies."

"The court acknowledges the evidence. Defence, you may cross-examine," the judge remarked, indicating the defence lawyer to proceed.

"Madumati Ji, let me ask you a few questions. You mentioned that you didn't see the men's faces because they were covered, correct?" the defence lawyer asked, stepping forward.

"Yes, that's right." eyeing him suspiciously. Her voice was steady despite the tension.

"And this incident happened 12 years ago, is that correct?"

"Are you weak in math, Nand Kishor?"

A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd. Arnav ducked his head to conceal a smile, accustomed to Buaji's antics.

"Silence, please. Madhumati Ji, please answer the question."

"Yes."

"You see, Madhumati Ji, memory can be a tricky thing, especially after such a long time," the defence lawyer said, pausing before continuing. "Are you absolutely certain those marks were star-shaped tattoos and not something else? It was dark, and you were clearly scared. Maybe you saw something else. How can you be so sure?" The defence lawyer pressed, trying to sow doubt.

"Objection, leading question, Your Honor."

"Sustained. Counsel, please refrain from asking leading questions."

"I want to answer that question, Judge shaheeb," Madumati Ji stated firmly, her voice unwavering. "Yes, I was scared that night, but those marks are burned into my memory. And that picture in your hand, I drew it, not today, but 12 years ago. I know what I saw."

"Your Honor, while we respect Madumati Ji's testimony, we ask the court to consider the potential fallibility of her memory due to the traumatic nature of the event and the significant passage of time. Thank you. No more questions," the defence lawyer addressed the judge.

"Thank you, Counselor. We will take that into consideration. Madumati Ji, you may step down," the judge said.

Addressing Arnav, the judge added, "Mr. Raizada, proceed with your next witness."

"Thank you, Your Honor. I request that Madhumati Ji be allowed to remain on the stand a little longer to identify a crucial mark for me."

With the court's permission granted, he continued, ''Your Honor, I now ask permission to question Mr. Shyam Manohar Lala.'' Arnav had previously obtained a court order to bring Mr. Lala to the witness box and to restrict him from leaving the province or the country.

As Arnav approached Mr.Lala, the tension between them became evident. He posed a single question, "Lalaji, how do you respond to the evidence implicating you in this case?"

"I am completely innocent, Your Honor," Mr. Lala retorted. "Ramprasad is lying. They sold their lands to me willingly. They are trying to defame me."

"Why would he do that? Do you have any animosity with him?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you coerced him into lying," Mr.Lala seethed at Arnav.

"Objection, Your Honour, Argumentative." The defence lawyer stated firmly.

"Sustained, Mr.Raizada, please rephrase your question."

But Arnav's eyes twinkled with satisfaction, seeing Mr. Lala growing agitated with each passing second. He leaned forward, a smirk curling on his lips. "It is highly inappropriate to accuse a lawyer of misconduct, especially in court," he said, his tone cool and composed. "However, for the sake of clarity, could you please show us your left thigh?"

"Objection, Your Honor. Unnecessary invasion of privacy and improper line of questioning," the defence lawyer interjected, standing up.

"What kind of insult is this, Your Honor? I have no involvement in this," Mr. Lala insisted, stressing his innocence.

"Then why the hesitation?" Arnav pressed. "We only have a doubt. Lalaji, please assist us in clearing it up."

"Objection overruled. Please show us your thigh, Mr. Lala, and help resolve our doubts," the judge ruled.

Upon the judge's order, Mr.Lala reluctantly exposed his thigh, revealing the pentagonal tattoo. This sight sent a wave of gasps through the courtroom.

"I wish I could stop there, Lalaji," Arnav said with a steely resolve, "but could you please also show us your back?"

As Mr.Lala turned and exposed his back, revealing the distinctive birthmark, Arnav's smirk deepened.

"Madhumati ji, have you seen mark before?" Arnav asked Madhumati ji without turning toward her. His eyes fixed on Mr.Lala.

"YES, YES, that's the mark Judge shaheeb. I will never forget this mark."

Arnav turned to face the judge and said, "That's all, Your Honor."

Khushi sat idly at her office desk, her gaze drifting toward the gloomy sky outside. Today, she felt a deep sense of melancholy that seemed to engulf her. For the past few days, she had been experiencing these sudden bouts of sadness, a feeling of wanting to cry that she couldn't quite explain. With a sigh, she picked up the newspaper for the day.

Shyam Manohar Lala, Mohan Rajjani and 7 others Sentenced to Death for Heinous Crimes in Landmark Verdict

The headline stirred a bittersweet feeling within her. She was present in the courtroom yesterday. It was her first time attending one of Arnav's proceedings, and she couldn't help but think she should have chosen a different case for her debut. She would have relished seeing him in his element under happier circumstances than witnessing this particular trial. But perhaps, she mused, it was simply her destiny to see him fighting for her and her family.

She was undoubtedly relieved that her parents' murderers had been brought to justice, but the resurgence of painful memories cast a sombre shadow over her. She knew she needed to go home and rest. The past few months had been difficult for both her and Arnav. It was a relief that the nightmares had eased down a little bit. Despite this, she felt persistently exhausted. She just felt tired all the time. They would stay in the Rajput Haveli for a few days more, as Dewali was this week. Then they would return back to their home.

But suddenly, after few days, Khushi fell ill and caught a severe case of stomach flu. Amma, Babuji, Bua Ji, and Arnav all scolded her for indulging in too many jalebis, rabri, and golgappas the previous day. Despite their concerns, her condition worsened over the next ten days, showing no signs of improvement. The doctor visited today, diagnosing her as dehydrated and advised them to give her more fluid. How could she keep herself rehydrated when the mere sight of food made her sick?

Suddenly, Buaji's shriek startled everyone. "Arey, Manoroma, have we all lost our marbles, Nand Kishor? Payaliya, go ask Hariprakash to fetch Ganga Tai!"

Upon hearing Buaji's words, everyone suddenly turned their gaze towards Khushi. She felt like a deer caught in headlights and managed a nervous smile. In return, they all smiled back at her as well. Though their smiles were well-natured, but they seemed menacing to her. Khushi pursed her lips, feeling her heart pounding loudly. Out of everyone's sight, she tenderly placed her hand on her stomach. And somehow, she knew. She didn't need Ganga Tai, the local midwife, to tell her what was happening.

"Arnav, uthiye na," Khushi whined, gently shaking Arnav from a deep slumber. Her voice was filled with a mix of desperation and impatience.

"What happened?" Arnav mumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper into the pillow.

"I want to eat jalebis," her voice rising with a hint of excitement.

Arnav slowly raised his head, squinting at the bedside clock. "It's three in the morning, Khushi. Go back to sleep."

"I can't sleep. The baby wants jalebis."

Arnav sighed deeply, propping himself up on one elbow. "Alright, only on one condition."

Khushi's eyes brightened with hope. "Kya?"

"You have to drink a glass of milk too."

Khushi scrunched up her nose. "But milk is yucky."

Arnav gave her a stern look. "Then I'm going back to sleep."

Khushi's eyes widened in alarm. "No, no, no! Okay, I'll drink the milk. Now please, let's go."

Arnav got up lazily from the bed and turned on the light. Khushi, with a playful pout, spread her arms as if she were a child wanting to be picked up. Chuckling, Arnav gathered her into his arms.

Him, being a father hadn't fully settled in yet. Perhaps it was a gradual process, and with time, he would gain the momentum to fully embrace parenthood.

They had returned from the Rajput Haveli two weeks ago. Though Chachu and Chachi had wanted them to stay at the haveli, it was no longer fitting to live there for an extended period after their marriage. Staying there long-term now seemed inappropriate. Instead, they had brought Buaji to live with them in their house.

As Arnav walked through the corridor with Khushi in his arms, this was the third time that week they were embarking on a midnight mission for jalebis. Soon after her sickness subsided, her cravings for jalebis reared their head. The first time, her craving had been for hot jalebis without chasni. The next, she demanded them with chasni and added countless conditions. They couldn't disturb Gauri ji or Buaji, as the thought of waking them up made Khushi tear up out of guilt. So, the only person left to make the jalebis was him. It felt as though she had no affection for him anymore, only her love for the sweet treat prevailed at that moment.

Khushi had meticulously guided him through the process of making jalebis this past week, and now he had become a pro. His once hesitant hands now moved with precision, swirling the dough in the hot oil with confidence, ensuring each jalebi was crisp and golden and then dipped them in the perfectly sticky, sweet chasni.

They settled on the balcony with a small plate of hot jalebis and a glass of milk. She savoured each piece of jalebis with evident delight.

"Wow, these are sooo good, you've learned to make such delicious jalebis," Khushi praised Arnav in between bites.

"Yeah, if I ever fail as a lawyer, I might just start a stall in the market."

"At least you'd have one loyal customer," Khushi winked, offering him a piece of the sweet delicacy.

Arnav caught Khushi's hand, taking a bite of the offered jalebi. His tongue lightly swept over the tips of her fingers, sending a ripple through her skin. One by one, without breaking eye contact, he polished off all the sweet chasni from her fingers.

"Yeah, you were right. Today's jalebis are extra delicious," he said, winking at her. A lovely redness tinted her flawless skin, which looked radiant under the moonlight.

"Are you trying to correct a past mistake?" Arnav laughed, remembering their childhood moment.

"Maybe."

"Or are you trying to seduce your wife, Mr. Raizada?"

"I can't help it. You're just so irresistible," he leaned in to kiss her lips, enveloping her smile with his own. "And so, so, so sweet." He punctuated each word with a press of his lips against hers.

He kissed her some more. At least he could do that, since the doctors had banned any physical intimacy until her fourth month of pregnancy. Releasing her lips, he said, "Alas, all my seducing will go to waste."

"Serves you right. How shameful it is. Now that I'm pregnant, everyone will know what we do...what we did," she whispered, pursing her lips.

Arnav burst out laughing. She swatted his shoulder lightly, then joined in his laughter as well.

Arnav's birthday was approaching next week, and Khushi wanted to do something special for him, despite his dislike for celebrations. Last year, she had cooked his favourite dishes, but this year she wanted to make a more significant impact. After discovering her influence over him physically, she was determined to come up with something that would truly blow his mind.

However, since she couldn't be intimate with him due to the doctor's restrictions, that plan was off the table. She pondered other ways to make him feel special and happy. Her mind raced with ideas throughout the day. She decided she needed to explore the secluded spots of the library and gather inspiration, so she planned to visit the library to search for ideas and find the perfect setting to surprise him.

She wished for a magical box where she could write, "What is another way to make your husband happy physically when you're pregnant?" and have all the answers appear before her. Life would be so much simpler if someone could provide a straightforward solution.

After a discreet search, Khushi finally found a book that seemed to promise answers. However, as she leafed through it, the content was convoluted and confusing, leaving her more perplexed than enlightened. But she was determined to decode those confusing texts.

It was five minutes to midnight on Arnav's birthday. He had a crucial hearing the next day and was working late in his study. Khushi timidly knocked on the door, causing him to look up from his file.

"What are you doing still staying up?" he asked.

"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday," Khushi said shyly.

He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at her, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he observed his suddenly shy wife. He raised an eyebrow.

"Happy birthday, Arnav," she said, growing nervous under his silent gaze.

"Why are you so shy all of a sudden?"

"I didn't bring a gift."

He extended his hand toward her. She took it, allowing him to pull her close until she stood in front of him, where he sat. He placed a hand gently over her belly.

"You've already given me the best gift in the world," he said softly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her stomach after placing a tender kiss there. Khushi's fingers tangled in his hair as she smiled.

"I want to try something. Promise me you won't laugh," Khushi whispered, nervously playing with his hair.

"What?" Arnav asked, intrigued.

"Close your eyes."

Instead of following her request, Arnav frowned, his curiosity piqued. Taking a deep breath, Khushi settled on his lap, surprising him. Her legs straddled him as she lowered herself on his body. He instinctively grabbed her waist.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice.

"Kuch nehi," she replied softly, her eyes locked onto his. "I just want to kiss you."

And she kissed him once, twice, three times, her lips soft against his. She trailed kisses along his chin, his jaw, his neck. His stubble tickled her sensitive lips. She gently rubbed the back of his neck, massaging his scalp with her fingers. The soothing touch and tender kisses felt nice to him, too nice actually. Her kisses, he could take, but what was becoming unbearable was the way her body moved against him. He grabbed her hips to still her and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You're doing it on purpose." he whispered, his voice strained. "Don't start something you can't finish."

Khushi bit her lip to hide her smile, her face flushing slightly. "But I intend to finish,'' she whispered back, kissing him again.

Arnav squinted slightly, trying to gauge her intentions as she slowly slid down his body, kneeling between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, then moved a little higher, grazing the growing bulge in his pants. Before she could go further, Arnav caught her hands.

"You don't have to," he murmured, his voice thick, his breathing ragged.

"But you want me to," Khushi replied, her gaze meeting his. Eyes sparkled with mirth.

"How do you know?"

"I can see it in your eyes," she whispered. She pressed her lips together, a ghost of a smile dancing on her face.

"Damn it,'' Arnav exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I've got the best wife ever. Let's go to our room."

She giggled as he pulled her up by her shoulders and scooped her into his arms. He carried her towards their bedroom, determined to finish what they had started.

At the end of next month, La and NK got married. The way they clicked together from the very beginning, it was inevitable that they would end up together. Khushi couldn’t attend their wedding for obvious reasons, but La and NK assured her that they would visit soon. In fact, they planned to enjoy their honeymoon in India. Khushi was over the moon to have her two best friends with her. Over time, NK and La fell in love with India and its people so much that they decided to stay for an extended period to help Khushi with the foundation.

As her dream regarding the foundation slowly came to fruition, she found herself yearning to focus on her other dreams. Khushi had always dreamed of becoming a writer, but whenever she sat down to write, her ideas felt scattered, elusive, like pieces of a puzzle that just wouldn't fit together. Despite having the time, she struggled to find the focus and direction she needed before. Her thoughts seemed to drift aimlessly, and her creative energy, though abundant, was unfocused.

Then came the unexpected news of her pregnancy, which brought a sense of calm and clarity that she hadn't anticipated. Though the first few weeks were overwhelming, filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. As her body changed, so did her perspective. The life growing inside her gave her a new sense of purpose and a grounding she hadn't felt before. The scattered thoughts that once filled her mind began to settle, like leaves gently falling into place.

The quiet moments, especially in the early mornings when the world was still asleep, became her sanctuary. The ideas that had once been disjointed started to come together.

As her pregnancy progressed, Khushi found inspiration in the smallest of things-the gentle flutter of the baby's movements, the warm sunlight streaming through the window, the quiet moments of reflection. Each day, she would write a little more, her words a reflection of her journey, filled with the raw emotions of impending motherhood. There were days when the physical toll of pregnancy would slow her down, but she pressed on, driven by the idea that she was creating something lasting, something she could share with her child one day.

Writing became a form of therapy for Khushi, a way to process the changes happening in her life. The book she was crafting wasn't just a story; it was a reflection of her own experiences, fears, hopes, and dreams. Every chapter was infused with the emotions she was feeling-the joy, the uncertainty, the love that was growing each day for the little one she had yet to meet.

As her due date approached, Khushi found herself writing the final chapter, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. The book was a journey, much like her pregnancy, filled with unexpected twists, moments of doubt, and overwhelming joy. When she finally held her first draft in her hand, she realized that the time she had spent writing had not only brought her closer to her dream of being an author but had also prepared her for the beautiful, challenging journey of motherhood.

Her book, once a distant dream, was now a testament to the strength and resilience she had discovered within herself during those nine months. Khushi knew that this was just the beginning of her story-both as a mother and as a writer.

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @msbhagirathi

[emoticonheart]

lol kinda spontaneous, but the next chapter of the burp soulmate story inspired by @moraygrotto is here!! as always, i'll link the story on ao3 here and post it below as well!!

The line in front of the nearest SIMA building was, as expected, extremely long.

SIMA-- which stood for Soulsign Identification and Matching Agency-- was an international organization meant to help expedite the process of finding someone with the same soulmate sign as you. It was supposedly a simple process; all you had to do was prove that you had a soulmate sign, and they would add it to the registry. Once there was a match with someone else, you would get a text or a call. Sometimes, if the sign was too vague (like: i can feel whatever emotions my soulmate is feeling) then a list would be mailed to you with people that have similar soulmate signs. From there, you could at least try to narrow it down.

The organization was meant to make it easier to find your soulmate, especially if said soulmate lived on the other side of the world, but the way the organization was RUN made it harder that it should've been. The long wait times were a prime example of this.

But Sierra didn't seem to mind, and so the two of them took their spots in the back of the line, a smug smile on her face.

Conner stood awkwardly next to her, sweating with nerves. One of the things that came with registering your soulmate sign with SIMA was that you were given a new ID on the spot, one that had your soulmate sign written just below your picture. You'd have to trash your old ID and replace it with the new one, and Conner did not want to replace his old drivers license with one that has BURP SYNCHRONIZATION or something like that written on it.

He was hoping that since he had already found his soulmate, he wouldn't have to worry about registering, but it seemed Sierra had other plans.

As they crawled their way through the line, they approached one of the SIMA agents, who was watching over the line.

"Excuse me, sir," Conner said, getting his attention. "About how much longer should we expect to be waiting in line?"

"Two hours," he said sharply.

Conner frowned as he turned to Sierra. "Are you sure you don't wanna come back a different day? Maybe we can get here right as they open on Saturday and maybe the line won't be so--"

"Nope," Sierra shook her head. "We're doing this today."

Conner sighed. So be it.

They continued to wait in line in silence, until suddenly a commotion in the front of the line caused Conner to look up.

"Fuck!" someone shouted from up front. "Someone up front reeks!"

A bunch of people began filing out of the building as quickly as they could, pinching their noses and waving their hands in front of them. Conner took this as a sign to leave, but before he could take a step, Sierra grabbed a hand.

"We're staying," she said.

"But, everyone else is--"

"That just means our wait will be shorter."

Conner sighed. There really was no getting out of this.

By the time everyone had cleared out and order had been restored, Conner and Sierra found themselves to be next in line. As they walked toward the next available agent, they passed by a man in a suit and tie making his way towards the exit. But first, he looked over at the two of them and winked. "You're welcome."

Conner just gave him a weird look, but Sierra whisperered. "He probably set off a stink bomb so that he could be first in line. I've heard that's been happening a lot recently."

Conner frowned, but decided not to ask anymore questions. As they approached the desk, Conner could finally pick up the stench lingering in the air. Yeah, definitely a stink bomb.

The lady on the other side of the desk looked like she wanted to die. "IDs?"

Conner and Sierra slid their driver's licenses over to her. She took a quick scan of them before sitting back down, but she didn't give them back.

"Are you both registering under the same soulmate sign?"

Sierra nodded. "We just need new IDs."

Conner's heart dropped. So that's what this was about? But he specifically didn't want a new ID!

He opened his mouth to tell Sierra just this, but she must've sensed what he was about to say, because she shot him a glare that made his blood run cold. He kept his mouth shut.

"Fine," the lady said. "And what's the soulmate sign you'd like to register yourself under."

"I'm sure you don't have this one in your registry yet," she smirked. "'Burp synchronization.'"

She gave Sierra a look behind her glasses. "Come again?"

"It's simple, really. When I burp, he burps. And when he burps, I burp."

"Are... are you sure that's what your sign is?"

Sierra raised an eyebrow cockily. "Want proof?"

Conner began waving his hands, already seeing where she was going with this. "Sierra, no. No no no no--"

RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP

Without warning, Sierra opened her mouth and ripped an insanely loud belch, one that echoed around the walls of the entire office. And since Conner didn't have time to close his mouth, his burp was just as loud, making the volume of their combined gas almost unbearable.

When it was over, Conner slapped both hands over his mouth, burning from embarrassment from head to toe. Sierra, on the other hand, just smirked at the agent.

"That good enough for ya?"

Conner made the mistake of looking around, and he saw all the eyes on them, all the looks of disgust. Oh how he wished the ground would open up and swallow them whole.

The agent sighed. "I guess so. 'Burp Synchronization' it is. I'll go ahead and print out those new IDs."

Sierra smiled as the agent walked to the back office to do just that. Once she was out of sight, Conner glared at Sierra. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" she said innocently. "She said she needed proof!"

"So you had to embarrass me like that?"

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, but what else were we supposed to prove it?"

"Why do we even need new IDs in the first place. Soulmark IDs are only for those who need extra help with finding their soulmate, but we already found each other!"

Sierra rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You wouldn't get it."

"You're right about that."

The two of them crossed their arms and huffed as they turned away from each other. Conner just couldn't wait for this to be over so that he could go home and forget all this embarrassment.

Finally, the agent came back and slid their new IDs over to them. Conner frowned as, sure enough, BURP SYNCHRONIZATION was plastered right underneath his ID photo.

Joy.

"Here you go," she said "NEXT!"

The two of them quickly shoved their new IDs in their wallets before making their way out of the building. As soon as they were out of the stuffy office, Sierra waved to Conner.

"Well, uh, see you later, I guess."

"Wait!"

Sierra stopped trying to walk away and turned to Conner, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Can I... have your number?"

Sierra's face twisted in disgust. "Why?"

Conner ignored the sting that came along with that as he shrugged. "I mean, as much as you may not like it, we are soulmates. Don't you wanna at least try making this work?"

Sierra narrowed her eyes in contemplation before finally sighing, making her way back over to him. "Fine. Give me your phone."

Conner did just that, and he watched as she aggressively typed out the number on his phone before handing it back. He took a look, and saw that she had already sent herself a text with just his name, assumedly so that she could save his number on her phone.

"There," she said. "Now, just don't blow up my phone, okay? Let's take things slow."

Conner nodded. He couldn't agree more.

As Sierra walked away for good this time, Conner couldn't help but pull out his new ID. Tears began forming in his eyes as he took at the two new words plastered on it.

What did he do to deserve this?

[thecodeveronica]

UMM how long is a system restore supposed to take on Windows 11? It's been about 40+ minutes on the same "System Restore is restoring the registry..." screen

should I be concerned lol

[vulcanlovetriangles]

I'm probably losing my mind, but was the Saratoga lost at Wolf 359 the same one from Star Trek IV that had its power drained by the probe? Weren't they both Mirandas?

They have different registry numbers so maybe not, but wth? Why two Saratogas with different registry numbers, but the same starship class? Saratoga A instead? Make it make sense.

Edit: So apparently the one from TVH was restored and preserved so yes, two different Miranda class Saratogas.