#online flashing tools

[subjectsix]

I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.

I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.

Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.

I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.

I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.

Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.

I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.

My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.

I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?

No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!

[a-tools]

SWF Player is a free online player for SWF (Shockwave Flash) files, it can quickly open SWF files and read metadata tags from the file header, can automatically resize the window to fit SWF content and show it.

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[fratttymatty]

MorphMe

(All characters are 18+)

Elliot Hart was the definition of niche. A 20-year-old computer science major with a stack of anime Blu-rays, a Bernie Sanders sticker on his laptop, and more Funko Pops than friends. He was proudly gay, proudly nerdy, and proudly convinced that his brain was his best asset. His social life consisted mostly of online forums and heated Reddit debates about politics and Star Wars continuity.

One evening, as he scrolled through a lesser-known app store to find some quirky productivity tools, a strange app caught his eye: "MorphMe: Update Your Self". It had zero reviews, a glowy blue icon, and a tagline that read: “Be the you you’ve never met.”

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “Sounds dystopian. Love it.”

He downloaded the app.

Upon opening it, a series of sliders and checkboxes appeared on screen. Gender: Male. Sexual Orientation: Gay. Intelligence: 100%. Appearance: Twink. Personality: Cute.

He chuckled and set everything just right, including a little sparkle emoji next to “cute.” Then he hit “Confirm.”

The screen glitched. Hard.

Lines of code zipped across the screen. A notification popped up: "Applying New Settings..."

Suddenly Elliot’s phone vibrated violently. He dropped it as a bright flash filled the room. When he opened his eyes…

Everything had changed.

He sat up in bed — a bed that was now massive, messy, and covered in protein bar wrappers and gym shorts. The posters of Studio Ghibli were gone, replaced with flags: American flags, Gadsden flags, and a giant Sigma Alpha Theta frat banner. The air smelled like Axe body spray and whey powder.

Elliot… wasn’t Elliot anymore.

He was Chad.

Literally. His phone buzzed with a message:

"Yo CHAD bro, kegger tonight at Mike’s. Bring Stacy 🍑🍒"

He stood and caught his reflection in the mirror. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair, rippling muscles, tanned skin, a backwards cap, and not a hint of irony anywhere. His rainbow pride pin had been replaced by a “Don’t Tread on Me” button. His brain felt… lighter? Not stupid, just… breezy. Like algebra was a foreign language, but chugging beer and flexing came second nature.

“Dude… sick,” he said to no one, admiring his pecs. His voice was a deep, confident baritone — not a trace of his former nasally tone.

He opened his closet: polos, tank tops, khakis, and way too many pairs of Oakleys. No more anime tees. No more cardigans. No more Bernie.

And… he didn’t miss them.

Later that day, Chad strolled across campus, his arm wrapped around Stacy, a blonde with lips so glossy they could reflect sunlight. She was chirping away:

“Baaaabe, we totes have to go to Cancun for spring break! Like, it’s gonna be sooo wild. You, me, margaritas, and like, no thoughts. Just vibes.”

He laughed. “Hell yeah, babe. Cancun sounds hella rad.”

He didn’t remember Elliot. He didn’t remember being gay. All he knew was the gym, the frat, and how Stacy looked in a bikini. He fist-bumped his new bros, cracked open a Bud Light (Ironically, he hated IPAs now), and settled into his life.

He never opened the MorphMe app again.

Because as far as Chad was concerned — this? This was who he was always meant to be.

[vanteguccir]

Thinking about boyfriend Matt that has a girlfriend that lives by herself and everytime she gests new forniture, she calls him like "Baby, can you come put this together for me? Thank you". I also think she would try to help and Matt would be tottally against it (not sure about this last part tho). Please write this.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFURNITURE * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N loves to buy new furniture for her home, and Matt is the one she always goes to to ask to put it together

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　none

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N had a knack for making her little apartment feel like home. Every few weeks, she'd spot something online; a new bookshelf, a cozy chair, or a quirky table, and decide that it was exactly what her space needed. But there was one catch: she wasn’t exactly a pro at assembling furniture. That’s where Matt came in.

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains of Y/N’s living room as she admired the large box that had just been delivered. It was a new coffee table, one she’d been eyeing for weeks. Knowing full well that she wasn’t going to tackle it on her own, she reached for her phone.

"Hey, baby." Y/N's voice was warm and playful as Matt answered on the first ring.

"Hey, dove. What’s up?" Matt replied, his tone softening at the sound of her voice.

Y/N glanced at the box.

"I got a little something for the living room. Think you could come over and help me put it together?"

Matt chuckled, already grabbing his car keys.

"Let me guess, another piece of furniture?"

"You know me too well." She grinned. "But yes, please? I promise to make us dinner afterward."

"On my way." Matt said without hesitation, already heading out the door. The thought of seeing her, even if it was to assemble something as simple as a coffee table, was more than enough to make his day.

About twenty minutes later, Matt arrived at Y/N’s apartment, greeted by her bright smile and the unmistakable excitement in her eyes. She stood in the doorway, barefoot and wearing one of his oversized hoodies; something that made Matt’s heart do a little flip every time he saw her in it.

"Thanks for coming." Y/N said, stepping aside to let him in. She watched as Matt eyed the box in the middle of the living room.

"Another project, huh?" He teased, approaching the box.

"Yeah, but I promise this is the last one for a while." Y/N laughed, knowing full well she’d probably find something new soon enough. She kneeled beside him, ready to help.

Matt quickly shook his head, gently nudging her hand away from the box.

"Uh-uh, you just sit back and relax, okay? I’ve got this."

"But I want to help!" Y/N protested, though there was no real determination in her voice. She knew he loved doing things like this for her on his own.

"No way." Matt insisted, his tone gentle but firm. He gave her a playful look, then tapped her nose lightly. "I can handle it. Just sit on the couch and look pretty while keeping me company. That’s all I need from you."

Y/N sighed, feigning disappointment, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She settled onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched him. There was something incredibly comforting about the way Matt moved around her space, confidently taking charge of the task. His broad shoulders flexed beneath his shirt as he opened the box and started laying out the pieces.

"How do you even know what all these parts are?" Y/N asked, genuinely impressed as Matt made quick work of organizing the screws, panels, and tools.

Matt shrugged, flashing her a grin.

"Just good at following instructions, I guess. Plus, it’s kind of fun."

"Fun?" Y/N echoed with a laugh. "You’re putting together furniture, not playing a game."

"Maybe." He said, glancing over at her, his eyes full of warmth. "But it’s for you, so that makes it fun."

Her heart swelled at his words. Watching Matt carefully assemble the table, piece by piece, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just about the furniture; it was about the way he cared for her, the way he was always there to help without a second thought. It was the little things, like how he’d insist on doing the heavy lifting, or how he’d make sure every screw was tightened perfectly so she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

After a while, the coffee table began to take shape. Y/N couldn’t resist getting up and kneeling beside him again, pretending to inspect his work.

"Looks good." She remarked, trying to keep her tone serious.

"Of course it does." Matt said with a chuckle. "I’m a professional."

She leaned in closer, teasingly brushing her fingers against his biceps.

"Maybe I should double-check, you know, just in case."

Matt rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide.

"If you want, but I guarantee it’s perfect."

Y/N gave him a look of mock suspicion before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I trust you."

Matt’s hands paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to her with a mix of affection and pride. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You better."

With the table finally assembled, Matt stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his pink shirt riding up slightly, displaying his tummy to Y/N’s eyes.

"Done." He announced, stepping back to admire his work.

Y/N clapped her hands together, genuinely impressed.

"It looks amazing, baby. Thank you."

"Anything for you." Matt replied, his voice sincere. He watched as Y/N excitedly placed a few decorative items on the table, her eyes lighting up at how perfectly it fit into her living room.

"Okay, now that you’ve put that together…" Y/N began, trailing off as she looked at him with a playful smirk.

Matt raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going.

"Oh no, what else did you order?"

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his chest.

"Nothing… yet."

Matt shook his head, smiling down at her.

"You’re lucky I love you."

"I know." Y/N murmured, looking up at him with pure adoration. "And I’m so lucky to have you."

© vanteguccir

[linguajunkie]

Duolingo alternatives

Duolingo’s been in the news for going all AI. Of course, if AI is your bag, that’s cool. But if you’re interested in learning language from resources made by real native speakers and humans…

Here are some suggestions…

Speaking/Listening

-Innovative Language (known for JapanesePod101, koreanclass101, spanishpod101 and their collection of 30+ language programs - teaches languages through conversations (you listen to a convo between two native speakers and then get it explained). Lessons are about 5–10 min on average in audio/video format https://www.innovativelanguage.com/online-language-courses

Pimsleur - similar approach as above but lessons are longer - 30 min and audio only - https://www.pimsleur.com

Reading

LingQ - learn by reading native content and breaking down the words inside. https://www.lingq.com/en/

ReadLang - a browser based tool that translates articles and books you read. https://readlang.com

Satori Reader - (for Japanese) - read level appropriate stories (my fav for reading)

Vocabulary

Anki - not sure if this needs extra explanation - most language learners love Anki’s flash card approach https://apps.ankiweb.net

Clozemaster - learn words in sentence context (instead of just words alone) https://www.clozemaster.com

[possessedmen]

New City, New Me

Lukas stood on the sunlit pavement outside his Chemnitz apartment, the crisp spring air brushing against his skin. At 28, he was ready to leave behind the conservative streets of his hometown for the pulsing, liberated heart of Berlin. His belongings were packed, and the moving truck idled nearby. The company he’d hired promised a smooth move. What Lukas hadn’t anticipated was the man who’d step out of the driver’s seat.

The mover, a lean but muscular man named Jonas, wore khaki shorts that hugged his thighs and a loose tank top that revealed toned arms. White Nike socks peeked out above his chunky sneakers, and his casual confidence made Lukas’s heart race. Jonas hopped down from the truck, his movements fluid, and flashed a grin. “Last load, yeah?” he called, his Bavarian accent warm and teasing. Lukas nodded, his throat dry, as Jonas climbed onto the truck’s rear platform, leaning in to secure the final boxes.

Lukas’s gaze locked onto Jonas’s form — his shorts had slipped down slightly, revealing the curve of a perfectly rounded ass, framed by the waistband of his briefs. The sight sent a jolt through Lukas, his mind spiraling. Berlin was a city of reinvention, a place to shed his old self. And he had a tool for that: a vial of bodysuit serum, a strange, shimmering liquid he’d acquired from a shadowy online seller. It promised a transformation, a chance to become someone else. Watching Jonas’s toned legs flex as he adjusted a strap, Lukas made his decision. A new city deserved a new him.

He slipped into the apartment one last time, retrieving the vial from his bag. The serum glowed faintly, warm to the touch. Heart pounding, he returned to the truck just as Jonas leaned further in, his shorts slipping lower, exposing more of that tantalizing curve. “Need help?” Lukas asked, his voice shaky. Jonas glanced back, smirking. “Only if you’re climbing up here with me,” he teased, oblivious to the syringe in Lukas’s hand.

Lukas seized the moment. As Jonas turned back to the boxes, Lukas darted forward, plunging the syringe into Jonas’s ass. Jonas gasped, his body tensing before he slumped forward, unconscious but breathing steadily — the serum’s effect kicking in. Lukas’s pulse thundered in his ears. Guilt flickered, but desire burned hotter. He hopped on the rear platform of the truck with deflated Jonas and closed the door behind them.

The serum’s instructions were clear: Jonas’s body had become a living suit for Lukas to put on. Lukas stripped off his own clothes, standing naked in the dim light. He caught his reflection in a nearby mirror leaning against the truck wall, smirking at the bubble butt he’d sculpted through years of dedication. “New city, new me,” he murmured, giving it a playful smack. Then he turned to Jonas.

He tugged down Jonas’s khaki shorts, revealing the full curve of his ass, the briefs clinging tightly. Lukas’s breath hitched as he peeled off Jonas’s tank top, exposing a lean, sun-kissed torso. The serum had worked — Jonas’s skin shimmered faintly, elastic and ready. Lukas pressed himself against Jonas’s back, aligning their bodies. He found the seam along Jonas’s spine and pushed.

It felt like slipping into warm silk. Lukas’s body melded into Jonas’s, his legs sliding into Jonas’s legs, his arms into Jonas’s arms. He felt Jonas’s lean strength become his own, the sensation of Jonas’s toned ass now his to command. His head settled into Jonas’s, vision sharpening as Jonas’s hazel eyes became his. Lukas stood, steadying himself, and ran his hands over his new body — Jonas’s body. He flexed, feeling the taut muscles, the lithe power.

He glanced at the mirror. Jonas’s face stared back, boyish and handsome, but with Lukas’s sly grin. He turned, admiring the way Jonas’s ass looked in the khaki shorts, now pulled back up but still teasingly low. “Fuck,” he whispered, voice now Jonas’s lighter, playful tone. He gave it a smack, the sound sharp in the back of a truck, and felt a surge of desire.

He hopped down, sneakers hitting the pavement with a soft thud, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Jonas’s faint memories guided him — enough to know how to handle the truck.

As he pulled onto the road, Berlin’s skyline shimmering in the distance, Lukas felt alive. This was his new beginning, a chance to be bold, to be more. For now, Lukas leaned back, one hand on the wheel, the other tracing the curve of his new bodysuit. A new city, a new him — and a hell of a way to start.

[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, then there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

[jazziejax]

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - F1!Damson Idris x Black! OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Famous formula one driver flirts with the girl of his dreams and she, not much to his surprise, flirts back. Their connection is apparent and palpable. Only thing is, she’s the daughter of his team principal and already dating his rival.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - banter, flirting, cheating(??), sneaky

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I wanted to write something for Damson but all my Franklin Saint stories require more time so here’s something short and sweet. And will probably turn in to something more…..also, DAMSON IDRIS NEEDS MORE ATTENTION ON THIS APP!!!( Also, the OC’s name is pronounced NO-EM-IE)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1,863+

The paddock buzzed with energy under the sweltering sun. Engines roared in the background as mechanics swarmed around the cars, each tweak and adjustment critical. Cameras flashed, fans screamed, and the unmistakable tension of race day hung in the air.

Damson leaned casually against the side of his team's hospitality unit, dressed in his racing suit, the sleeves tied around his waist, every inch the confident driver ready to conquer the track. Sunglasses were perched on his face, his easy charm and magnetic smile made heads turn as he conversed with his team. His effortless charm couldn’t help but rub off onto her, he had it all—the speed, the talent, the fame—it made him an easygoing man. He had the things others craved even a morsel for. But what he loved most was the thrill of winning, both on and off the track. Though, as great as life was, the thrill off the track hasn’t been as fulfilling.

That’s when he saw her, Noémie Adebayo. She was a vision to those who watched in person and online, her fresh blowout swaying in the wind of the Saudi Arabian Air. Her white cotton set swayed as well, the wind giving her an angelic look as she strutted in, turning heads in the paddock. Noémie was as much a fixture in the paddock as the cars themselves. With her sharp wit and effortless style, she had a way of commanding attention without even trying. She was standing near her father, exchanging pleasantries with sponsors, but her laugh carried above the din, catching Damson’s ear like a siren’s call. Her laugh was light, carefree, and cut through the chaos that was F1.

He shouldn’t have looked at her the way he did. Noémie wasn’t just off-limits—she was untouchable. She was dating Nico Valdez, Griffin Motors’ golden boy and Damson’s fiercest rival on the track. She was also the only daughter of Antoine Adebayo, the team principal of APEX. His team. But rules, Damson always thought, were made to be broken. It’s why he was a champion now.

She caught his gaze, her dark-colored eyes shining as they locked with his for a moment too long. A smile curled at the corner of her lips as she turned back to the conversation she was having with her father.

"Careful, Idris," came a voice beside him. "You’re staring."

Damson glanced at his teammate, the brown woman was smirking at him as she adjusted the tool in her hands, coming from the pit crew.

"I’m just admiring the competition," Damson replied smoothly, his eyes still locked on Noémie as she tucked her blowing hair behind her ear. Simone furrowed her brows at him, eyes bouncing over to said woman.

"Competition? She’s not on the track, mate."

Damson smirked. "No, but she’s in the way."

He then pushed off the wall, his movements deliberate as he crossed the garage toward her. As he approached, Noémie turned, her eyes catching his. She didn’t look surprised—she never did.

"Noémie," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Always a pleasure." He said with a soft smile.

“It always is, to see you Damson,” Noémie said, her voice as smooth as silk, as if it exited her glossed lips and grazed against his skin. He hummed, his arms behind his back as he looked down at his kids at her. "Looking radiant as ever. You come here to cheer me on today?” He quipped, watching as an amused smile broke out into her lips that parted in a feigned gasp. "Cheer you on? I think you’re at the wrong paddock, Idris, my dear. Nico Valdez doesn’t take fans from last-place teams." Her jab was sharp, but the teasing tone in her voice gave her away.

"Last place?" He stepped closer, just enough to make her feel the heat of his presence. "You must not be paying attention then, love. You might want to focus less on your boyfriend and more on the man who’s going to leave him eating dust." He smirked before giving a small tilt of his head, his eyes drifting over her face. “A man who’s more worthy of your attention.” He added.

Noémie tilted her head, letting out a small gasp. “Damson!” She said, and her movements were as quick as light, her purse moving from one hand into the other so she could softly jab his covered shoulder. “That was rather sly of you.” She accused, looking up at him with a small smirk, her eyes glinting in the stadium lights. Although he could tell she was purely amused but his quips. “Cheeky.”

“You have to be in a game like this, darlin’.” He said, bringing his arm from behind his back and gesturing it towards the tracks that weren’t that far away from them. “How do you think I’ve been winning this long?”

“Talent.” She didn’t hesitate, her gaze not wavering from his as she tilted her head up at him. Damson’s mind halted, as well as his heart as he gaped down at her. She’d never know how the simplest of words uttered from her lips made him feel, even the mere sound of his name had him almost asking her if she could say it again, directly in his ear so he’d never forget the sound when they spent time away. And now, she’d just admitted what she thought of his profession—his career—and he didn’t think winning any race could make him feel like he did now. This was the high he’d been chasing.

He blinked, trying to gather anything else he could say since his mind went blank and his mother went dry.

His silence caused her smile to widen. "But those are bold words for a man who’s spun out twice in the last three races." She added.

Damson snapped out of his trance, chuckling. He then leaned in ever so slightly, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear. "Careful, Noémie. Keep talking like that, and Nico’s not going to like the way you’re looking at me. You’re noticing things.”

Her breath caught for half a second—just long enough for him to notice. Her eyes didn’t leave him no matter where his dodged on her face, or how close he leaned in.

She recovered quickly, tilting her chin up. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Damson." She said, her tone lighter than before.

"Don’t you?" he countered, his dark eyes holding hers. "You’re enjoying this." He said, his eyes jumping down to her lips when she rubbed them together to spread her gloss that had the tiniest bit of pink on top of her brown lip liner. “Our banter, of course.” He added cheekily.

She didn’t deny it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, unflinching. "Careful, Idris. My father’s right over there.” She nodded her head over to the older man with a headset and the red hat on, only about ten feet away from where they were now. “You wouldn’t want him to think you’re distracted." She grinned. “By our, banter of course.” She tilted her head at him, just as cheeky as he was mockingly.

"Let him," Damson said with a grin. "I’m good at multitasking." He said, letting out a small laugh.

Noémie’s laugh was soft, almost inaudible over the noise of the paddock, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Shouldn’t you be focused on winning today? Or are you here to get pointers from Nico?" She was full on teasing now, not even trying to hide her grin as she tried to rile him up. Damson faces scrunched up as her lightly jerked his head back at her.

"Nico doesn’t have anything I need," Damson said, leaning in slightly to lean against one of the rials that deported the crew far from the track. His voice dropped. "But you, on the other hand…" He trailed off.

She smiled, holding up her nude manicured index finger. “Ah, Damson.” She cut him off, giving him a certain look. She glanced over her shoulder toward her father, then catching sight of Nico, who was walking toward them with his usual air of superiority.

"Careful what you say.” She murmured, her voice softer now. "Unless you want Nico and Baba to think you’ve got nothing better to do than waste time with me."

Damson smiled, stepping back but letting his gaze linger on her a second longer than necessary. "Time spent with you is never wasted, Nomi."

She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the faint blush on her cheeks as she turned away, obviously due to the name she hasn’t heard anyone call her in a while. She smiled, stepping back just as Nico Valdez appeared, his sharp features twisting into a frown as he noticed the two of them standing far too close.

"Everything alright here?" Nico’s voice was clipped, his gaze bouncing between Damson and Noémie.

"Perfect," Damson replied smoothly, flashing Nico a grin that was all provocation. "Just welcoming Noémie to the paddock. Always good to see such… loyal fans." He said, only offering Nico a small glance as he spoke.

Noémie bit her lip to stifle a chortle as Nico bristled, his shoulders stiffening. "She���s here to support me, Idris. Not you. So maybe focus on staying on the track this time, yeah?"

Noémie was quick to whack her the back of her jeans chest Nico’s chest, all amusement dropping as she looked over at the man that stationed his leg behind her. “Watch it. He’s one of my dad’s best racers.” She hissed, pointing over at Damson. His brows quirked briefly at her clipped tone and sharp gaze on her partner, and the way she was quick to come to his defense. Nico’s jaw ticked as she glanced over at the man before them after giving his girlfriend an apologetic look.

Damson’s grin widened. "Oh, I’ll stay on track. And when I pass you, I’ll be sure to give Nomi a little wave." He said, the nickname rolling off his tongue too easily. Noémie’s gaze made its way back to him, her eyes softening and her smile subtle. But Damson’s eyes were trained on Nico, whose were locked on his.

The tension between the two drivers was electric, but Noémie broke the moment, placing a hand on Nico’s arm. "Let’s go, Nico," she said, her tone calm but her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced at Damson one last time. He gave them a lazy wave before heading back to his car.

As she walked away, Damson turned and called after her, his voice light but laced with meaning. "I’ll see you after the race, Noémie. I’ll save you a spot on the winner’s podium." She flashed a quick glance back at him, almost not noticeable with the way she swiped her hair over her shoulder. But he saw the flash of her pearly whites and the slight sway of her hips, telling him she’d heard him loud and clear.

He bit his lip with a smile before turning to quickly make his way back to his car. The race hadn’t even started yet, but Damson was already playing to win.

I don’t really know who to tag in this so if you want to be added to the tag list, just let a sista know in the comments.

[chumbyy]

btw, if you see resources online that could potentially save your life or a friend's life in the future, i.e. info on access to potentially life-saving care for vulnerable groups- SCREENSHOT, print the webpage if you can or back up the file, keep it somewhere safe. slapping a "#saving for future reference" tag on there isn't enough

tumblr staff can and likely WILL delete it.

websites can always be taken down.

i'm genuinely not trying to sound like a doomer, data is sooo easy to lose forever with no way to get back.

honestly it's good to get into the habit of saving and backing up almost ANYTHING you wouldn't want to lose on the internet, such as music/videos/art/tutorials, because data can easily be lost forever when you least expect it. but it's especially important at a time like this when people's rights and access to care are in question.

save everything. set up a system that works for you to make saving things easier so you're more likely to do it. flash drives are pretty cheap. veracrypt is a fairly reputable source for password protecting folders if you share a computer or a space with people you don't trust. be mindful of your surroundings and safety. do your own research into sources to make sure they are not coming from people with ill-intentions. if this feels out of your scope, seek out communities that can help you parse it out. the most important tool at our disposal is each other.

this is the only post i'll make like this but if you have any other suggestions or corrections you're more than welcome to add on.

[mask-of-prime]

BIONICLE: Ta-Wahi Travel Poster - [PROTOTYPE]

In a graphic design course dedicated to Adobe Illustrator, we were tasked to make vacation spot posters in the style of the ones from the 1950's. Our professor said it could be fictional, or even a real place we're fond of. Part of the assignment was to use the Symbol Sprayer, repetition of shapes, and the Warp Tool.

First thing that came to mind for me was a location in Bionicle, such as Ta-Wahi Beach, the first place you wake up to as Takua in Mata-Nui Online Game.

I wouldn't be surprised if the assets of MNOG were made in Illustrator and/or Flash (which I think the latter once belonged to MacroMedia at the time if we really wanna talk about feeling old).

Will I make other posters for the other Koro's/Wahi's? Um... it sounds like having them all together would be really cool, but if I do, I kinda wanna revise this current one and learn to have an easier time making them and/or possibly make them a little more straightforward and easy to make out. Definitely should go for the classic TradeMarker font if I do (since this isn't an assignment anymore, let alone one being monitored/graded by a professor who also teaches typography :p)

Made in 2022.

[captainjonnitkessler]

I think I've identified the reason I get so worked up about anarchism in relation to labor rights and safety in particular.

Three years ago I watched my coworker almost die when a piece of machinery we were moving unsafely fell on him. It missed his head by an inch and snapped his leg in half instead. It took months of recovery and multiple surgeries for him to walk again and he will be disabled for the rest of his life. And it didn't happen because of Capitalism or profit motive or because our evil bosses were forcing us to work unsafely. It happened because he'd done similar things a hundred times before and it had always been fine, and because I didn't know enough to clock just how dangerous what we were doing was, and just because of some plain shitty luck. Mentally it fucked me up for months in ways I didn't recognize until well after the fact.

And the thing is, almost every construction worker can tell you about the time they saw a fatal or near-fatal accident. An apprentice younger than me had a heart attack and was out of work for over a year after shocking himself on a live circuit. The woman who runs our apprenticeship program has a husband who had his arm blown off in an arc flash incident. One of my teachers had a coworker die after getting hung up on a live circuit and he wasn't found until the end of the day.

Construction is one of the single most dangerous industries to work in, and I believe this is why rates of drug and alcohol abuse and suicide are sky-high in the industry. I think many construction workers are low-key traumatized by knowing constantly that they could die or be permanently disabled due to a very simple mistake or oversight. It is simply inherently unsafe when you are working with live electricity, power tools, heights, thousands of pounds of machinery, cranes, etc. And so yes, I do believe that safety protocols and the ability to enforce them are absolutely necessary to preventing a massive amount of death. The number of worker deaths in the US has been slashed by 60% since OSHA was instated.

And so to get online and have someone who has never set foot on a jobsite in their life condescendingly explain to me that actually, we don't need OSHA or the ability to enforce safety standards because in a perfect world everyone will just suddenly start working perfectly safely, and I'm just too stupid or brainwashed to realize that The Real Villain Is Capitalism, and if we just get rid of that it will somehow also get rid of the inherent safety issues involved in the entire construction industry - well it turns out it pisses me off a little bit!

[macgyvermedical]

Hello Ross!

Came across your post reblogged by @msbarrows. Sorry if you've been asked this before, but what are some good steps to take now before the new regime comes into effect in January?/RFK Jr brain worm antivaxxer BS.

Thank you in advance.

I know just about every post on the subject says this, but- get your vaccines up to date. Buy yourself a nice TDaP from the CVS for Christmas. The Department of Health and Human Services (of which RFK Jr will have control) oversees the CDC and the FDA. While it would be unlikely he would go for an all-out ban on vaccines, he could make vaccines a hell of a lot more optional and refuse to approve new ones. Considering another goal of the administration is to repeal the ACA, that would mean childhood vaccinations would no longer be covered by private insurance (I was a child prior to the ACA and my mom paid $750 to get (fully insured) me vaccinated (about $1,638 in today's dollars). Meaning people will likely not be able to afford vaccines even if they wanted them. And a combination of expense + lack of mandate would mean a drastic reduction in the number of people who get vaccinated. While vaccines are less effective without community (herd) immunity, they are still great at keeping you from dying. So get them while they're available and covered.

Get your records. Download or request as many of your own medical records (and those of your children!) as you can. You can get most of your records through MyChart or other online portals. If you received medical care before electronic charting, you'll have to directly contact your hospital or clinic's records department to see if they can send you copies. Save them in hard copies in a binder or at least on a flash drive or disc you have the ability to read from a computer. This makes your medical care portable if you have to see a new doctor without a lot of time to plan.

If you're on more than one medication, have a "medication reconciliation" appointment with your doctor. Learn what meds you are on and know what each of them do. Call your pharmacy and learn how much they cost without insurance. Ask your doctor if there are any cheaper alternatives that treat the same things. In the case of an ACA repeal and loss of drug coverage, you're going to want to know so you can make an informed decision about which drugs you buy.

Get your mental health straightened out as much as possible. RFK Jr. has said things against antidepressants and other psych medications. While again, he's probably not going to ban them (Think of the lost productivity! Think of the pharmaceutical companies losing revenue!) he may make it hella difficult for new antidepressant meds to be approved.

Get on long-term birth control of you can get pregnant and don't want to be. The copper IUD is the longest lasting form of birth control and can prevent pregnancy for more than 10 years, but hormonal IUDs can last 7 or more. Each has their own side effects and benefits. You can always get it removed later if you change your mind, but getting access to birth control might become difficult.

Have any semi-elective procedures done ASAP. At least get them scheduled. If the ACA is repealed you may not qualify for health insurance and you really don't want to have to pay for a surgery out of pocket. Plus, if the FDA becomes less reliable, you're going to want any tools or implants used in that surgery to still be safe.

Get new glasses. If you have vision insurance, get a new pair of glasses (not contacts) now with your most up-to-date prescription.

Get any dental work you've been putting off done if you currently have dental insurance. Get a cleaning and any preventative care done you need too.

[writing-girlie]

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙺 ★ 𝙹𝚘𝚍 𝙽𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Story Summary: Fate had thrown you back into Jod Na Nawood’s orbit, and despite your history with the captain, you found yourself pulled into his reckless mission. A treasure map, precious cargo, and an entire galaxy chasing after it—everything about it screamed trouble but what wouldn't you do for him. WC: 1,372 Note: I don't know if I should write more chapters so if you're interested let me know

You were on your way back home from another successful job. No matter how many times you had flown through the galaxy, you still couldn’t help but admire it. The sharp crackle of your comms interrupted your thoughts, followed by the familiar voice of one of your bosses.

"Hey, Patch." The nickname drew a faint smirk to your lips. “I’ve just had a transmission come through, and you’re the closest. Do you mind checking it out for me? They don’t know what’s wrong, so you’ll just have to figure it out once you’re there.” Your job didn’t really excite you like it did at the start; it was just another paycheck, another ship, and another faceless crew who needed you to patch up their mess.

“Sure. I can do that.”

“The ship’s called Solar Spear. I’ve sent you the location, and as always, contact me if you need something. The comms crackle back out, and the screen in front of you chimes and flashes up with coordinates. You set the course and go on your way. Once you arrive, you see that there is no active power signature, and one side of the hull is caved in slightly, scorched and crumpled as if it had been scraped by something much larger. Your brow furrows as you assess the damage the best you can. Ships like this usually limped to a station after taking hits like those, but here it was, silent and adrift.

“Solar Spear, This is RPR-18. I received your transmission for help—you’re expecting me.” You tap into their comms, hoping that they're working. It takes a few moments, but eventually a response comes through.

“Yes, we have a small docking bay at the back right. Thank you.” You pull the ship up and land in the small space. The docking bay was small—only just fitting your ship. The clamps lock it into place, and the door behind shuts, so you power your engines off and get out, leaving your tools for once you knew what you were dealing with. When your feet hit the ground, the entry doors hiss open, and a young man is standing there.

"Thanks for coming," he said with a polite nod, hands clasped in front of him. "The captain’s expecting you. I’ll take you to him."

You follow him, walking through the ship and towards the bridge. The ship then starts rumbling slightly, and you hear someone call out that the backup supply has been engaged. The bridge door then hisses open, and you step inside. The room glowed softly as systems came back online, control panels lighting up one by one. The faint murmur of the crew and the hum of technology returned. But none of that caught your attention. Not really. Because standing right there was him.

Jod Na Nawood

The years hadn’t really changed him. His coat hung loose over his shoulders, a blaster was strapped at his hip, and that same cocky half-smile curled at the corner of his mouth. His hair was now streaked lightly with silver at the temples. And then there were his eyes, locked on you the moment you stepped into view, like they always used to be.

“Sunshine” His voice was soft, as if he were testing the weight of the word, but hearing that name on his lips again was like a punch to the gut. It was from another version of yourself—one who had trusted him, laughed with him, loved him. You force down the lump in your throat and steady your breath.

“Captain Nawood” Your eyes glance around the bridge, noting how the crew kept their heads down, busying themselves with their tasks, pretending not to listen.

“Captain?” He repeated “You never used to call me that unless we were off duty.” His smirk deepened, voice laced with teasing nostalgia. He stepped closer, his body just within your personal space, the heat of him unmistakable. “I always did like how you used to say it.”

Heat pricked up your neck and onto your cheek, but despite your best efforts to not show how it made you feel, Jod caught it. His smirk stretched wider, eyes flickering over your face, down to your mouth, then back up.

“What am I doing here? You’ve got the backup supply; that should be more than enough to get you to a planet for repairs. So is there anything else, or can I go?” 

“There’s no time for that; we have important cargo that needs to be delivered quickly. Can you just have a look at the main system and see if you can work some of your magic?” Yesterday you could’ve sworn that if you saw this man again you would’ve killed him, but now, with him in front of you, that wasn’t even a thought.

“You’re telling me that you’re working for someone?” you said, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Since when do you answer to anyone?”

“Since someone paid me well enough to make it worth my while.” He could tell from the look on your face that you didn’t believe him. “You make it sound like I’ve never followed the rules before.”

“That’s because you haven’t.” You say plainly. He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. For a moment anger bubbled inside of you again; you hated him—not just for the past, but for the way he could still make you feel. The bridge door hissed open, and a woman entered. She had the kind of confidence that came from being both good at her job and knowing it. Her eyes immediately found Jod, the faintest of smiles curving her lips.

“Captain,” she said smoothly, ignoring you entirely. “The cargo is accounted for and secured. Credits, jewels, a few relics—enough to turn heads.”

“So definitely not your ship; otherwise you’d know what you’re carrying,” you said, eyeing Jod sceptically.

“I never said it was. And thank you, Verya,” Jod replied with a smirk. Just as you opened your mouth to retort, she cut you off.

“It doesn’t matter who the ship belonged to. What matters is that it’s ours now, and we need to stay ahead of anyone who thinks otherwise.” Her gaze flicked to you briefly, as if measuring whether you were worth her time. Apparently deciding you weren’t, she turned back to Jod. “Anyway, we found it.”

Verya handed him a rolled parchment, her movements deliberate. Jod unrolled it carefully, the fragile paper crackling in the quiet. It was a map—an old one, by the look of it.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning in despite yourself.

“It’s a map,” Jod said flatly.

“I can see that,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “What’s it for?”

“It leads to a planet,” Verya answered before Jod had the chance, her voice steady but laced with excitement. “The stories say it’s filled with treasure. Enough to make someone the richest person in the galaxy.”

“Great. So you’re chasing a legend?”

“I’m chasing an opportunity,” Jod countered, his smirk returning, though this time there was an edge to it.

“An opportunity to do what? Get yourselves killed?” you asked, your tone heavy with scepticism.

“Some risks are worth taking,” Verya interjected, her gaze flicking back to Jod. “Especially when the reward is this big.”

“And what’s the plan?” you pressed, forcing your voice to stay even. “Hope no one else figures out what you’re carrying.”

“Oh, they already know.” Jod’s tone was maddeningly casual. “That’s why you’re here—to make sure we don’t fall apart before we get there.”

“Great. So you’ve got a massive amount of treasure in the hold, a map everyone in the galaxy would kill for, and no real plan. Sounds solid.” You clenched your jaw and pinched the bridge of your nose, resisting the urge to throttle him.

“Don’t worry. The captain knows what he’s doing,” Verya said, placing her hand on Jod’s bicep with an ease that grated on you.

“That’s debatable,” you muttered, shooting her a glare before glancing pointedly at her hand, then back to her eyes.

“I always figure it out, Sunshine. You should know that by now,” Jod said, his chuckle low and infuriatingly self-assured. His gaze lingered on you, filled with amusement.

[illaisland]

Ok so I'm finally watching Season 11 of The X-Files.

Episode 7 is called "Rm9sbG93ZXJz" which always bugged me cuz whenever anyone talked about it they called it the "sushi restaurant" episode. I avoided googling what the actual name meant cuz I didn't want spoilers.

But while watching the episode, right after the intro credits they flash this "VGhlIFRydXRoIGlzIE91dCBUaGVyZQ=" on the screen. And that's when I realized the episode title must be encrypted since this second encrypted text was obviously placed where "The Truth Is Out There" is typically placed.

So I ran both of them through this online tool called dcode and figured out they used base64 encoding to encrypt their messages.

You can play around with this tool here: https://www.dcode.fr/base-64-encoding

If you don't want to know what the results are...don't continue reading...

Maybe they reveal all this in the episode, idk I literally paused it at the credits screen to post this after figuring it out lol

So don't hate on me if this is obvious or well known. I just figured it out now and thought it was fun.

Rm9sbG93ZXJz -> "Followers"

VGhlIFRydXRoIGlzIE91dCBUaGVyZQ= -> "The Truth is Out There"

If one of you can figure out this text I encrypted using a different encoding, I'll send you a funny meme as a prize:

☌⟟⌰⌰⟟⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⎅⟒⍀⌇⍜⋏ ⟟⌇ ⏃ ☌⍜⎅⎅⟒⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⎅ ⍙⟒'⍀⟒ ⋏⍜⏁ ⍙⍜⍀⏁⊑⊬.

[llamaisllama777]

"You never owned us."

A TSAMS fanfiction based on today's episode

Moon was clearing out some of him and the family's personal belongs from the daycare Sun's glitter glue collection, some of Solar's tools that he kept in the daycare, Dazzle's drawings, a half-eaten sponge from Jack, and all Sun's old picture of Roxanne... for posterity. Moon picked up the box and began to walk out the dark daycare when he saw the large wooden doors of the daycare open, and three men in suits walked in. Fazbear executives. That's not good.

"Moondrop. We need to talk." *The man in front said, fixing his light blue tie.

"Okay, can this wait?" *Moon said, shifting the box under his arm. "Drop it, Moon." One of the other suits said. Moon looked at them all with distain they were ordering him around like a dog. He did as they said but kept his eyes on them, glaring at them menacingly. Moon leaned against the daycare reception desk and signaled for the executives to speak. The man in front cleared his throat and began to speak in a voice that sounded like he was some royal prince with the keys to the kingdom.

"You are aware you and your family's lives are uploaded to our servers and posted online, right?"

Moon nodded. "I'm aware."

The man in the middle chuckled and continued speaking in that overly cocky voice

"Well, we all at Fazbear HQ saw your... lastest video, and needless to say, we have some concerns." The executive's voice showed he didn't care at all for the mechanical family but clearly far more concerned for his bottom dollar.

"What video?" Moon asked, curious as to what video was uploaded. The executive on the right pulled his phone out of his tux pocket and showed the thumbnail of a video labeled "Sun and Moon are moving out?!"

Moon narrowed his gaze and nodded "Oh, wasn't aware that whole meeting got uploaded."

"Well, it did." The executive in the middle said, sounding a cross between annoyed and mad. "And we at Fazbear Entertainment understand that you and your family may feel concerned or feel like you need to fear for your lives, but you don't." The executive said in an overly cheery tone."If we recall The Creator... um.. Sven? Is dead. B-bloodmoon is gone, as well as Nexus. You and your family are fine and have no reason to leave." The executive said, flashing a smile that didn't show anything genuine, just another business tactic.

Moon stared at the executives and laughed. "Are you serious? Yeah, they're dead, but that doesn't mean something else won't show up!"

"What else could possibly show up?" The executive on the left said.

"Um.. The Astrals, The Dark Astrals, more evil versions of us, another wither storm, Dark Sun, literally anything at this point. I'm honestly surprised we haven't had a zombie apocalypse yet with all the stuff we've been through." Moon said, kinda impressed by Fazbear's obliviousness or lack of care.

"Ye-yes, well, here at Fazbear, don't view those people as threats at the moment. So, you and your family are safe and free to stay here." The executive in the middle said, fixing his tie nervously, trying to win a failing argument.

"No, we're not." Moon said, sounding more stern this time, making his tone clear and point known. "We aren't safe here at all! We have faced the literal end of the world, what could only be described as gods, and a weird blue guy who refuses to leave us alone! We. Aren't. Safe."

"Ca-can't you and your family just.. just install more security?" The executive on the right asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Oh, like that'll help us! Touch that computer right now. Try to turn it on." Moon said, pointing to one of the computers on the reception desk. The executives looked at each other before trying to turn the computer on, only for nothing to happen. The screen was still black.

"It's not turning on." One of them said. "Exactly!" Moon exclaimed. "If you suits at Fazbear actually watched any of our f[Beep]ing videos, you'd understand why we're leaving! This dimension SSSSUUUUCCCCKKKKSSSS!"

Moon picked up the box of memories and began to walk towards the daycare door. "So, we're leaving. I wanna say it's been an honor, but it hasn't. I'll leave some of my tools here, and you can keep our spare parts." Before Moon made it to the door, the three executives ran to the door and blocked his path.

"Um... get out of my way."

"No." The executive in the middle said.

"No?" Moon said, both confused and angered by these suits' audacity.

"What do you mean?"No?"

"You can't leave." The executive in the middle said, sounding serious now, dropping the facade of care and going straight to business. "You and your family are Fazbear property. We own you."

"First off, you technically don't. Our dad made us and still holds our original blueprints. Two, he never sold you Earth. Three Lunar and Solar were technically made by us, and four f[Beep] off." Moon said, trying to step towards the door only for the head executive to step forward, blocking Moon's path, glaring at the much taller animatronic. The two other executives shared glances of worry and fear as their boss stepped towards the known murderer animatronic.

"We own you. We own your family. We own all of you! You don't have rights! You're machines! Scrap! You can be replaced and rebuilt at the drop of a hat!" The executive said, gritting his teeth at Moon. Moon leaned forward a bit and said with a smug smile. "Then do it."

Moon smiled wide and patted the executive on the head before pushing past him and opening the door, trying to end this peaceful before the executive did something that would make him angrier.

"Then maybe we will." The executive said in a voice that carried. Moon stopped and turned back to face the executive. "What do you mean by that?"

"We'll scrap you and your family and the gator if you leave this universe."

"We'll be out of here, you can't."

"We'll scrap you before then. One call to Fazbear and you, your brothers, your sister, and Monty will be rotting in a junkyard by the next day. Don't do anything you'll regret, Moondrop." The executive said, fixing his tie and slicking back his hair. His voice showed no remorse for what he said or what would become of the family, to him, the family were just machines, toys, scrap, not people, not souls. Just tools for profits and if they weren't making Fazbear money, they didn't deserve to live.

Moon let out a low chuckle. "Okay, I won't." Moon said as he stepped back into the daycare and set the box down next to him. The two executives on the left and right felt something was off as they watched Moondrop lock the daycare doors. The head executive smirked, believing he won the argument.

"See? I knew you'd see it our way. You're a good brother, Mo.." Moon cut off the head executive."Oh, no. I said I won't do anything that "I'LL" regret." Moon said with a sinister smile. He pressed a button on his blue forearm, and the whole daycare went on lockdown, lights turning off completely then flashing back on, but every light was now a deep red color. The roof opened up, and many guns, tazers, and blasters were aimed at the three men. They all had a look of panic on their face while Moon smiled wide, almost like a serial killer would before slaughtering his victims.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" One of the executives said in fear, looking around the now blood red room. "Let us out!" The second executives said, trying to move out of the way of the gun barrels, but the gun seemed to follow every single movement he made. "Moondrop, let us out! I swear I'll scrap you and your whole family!" The head executive said, stepping closer to Moon, trying to threaten him, believing he still had some control in the situation. Moon grabbed the head executive by the throat and lifted him off the floor. The executive held onto Moon's arm and began to squirm and hit Moon's arm, trying to free himself, but it was useless. Moon was too strong.

"Now, let me make something PERFECTLY clear to you, Fazbear execs..." Moon said, stepping further into the daycare, making the two other executives walk backwards, trying to put some distance between themselves and Moondrop.

"You never owned us." Moon said in a voice that was clear but threatening all at the same time.

"We could have left anytime we wanted. You think it's just the daycare I have rigged? Nah. Every inch of this place has been under my control since..." Moon paused, trying to recall how long he's had full control over the Pizza-plex for "Since 2021. I have had this place completely under my control. All the cams? Mine. All the doors? Mine." Moon pressed a button on his arm to temporarily open the daycare doors. The two executives tried to bolt past Moon and towards the now opened door only for Moon to press the button on his arm again and have the door slam shut on the two attempting to flee executives. "The light?" Moon pressed another button higher up on his wrist and flashed every single light in the daycare on and off rapidly, temporarily blinding the executives. "Mine. Every single thing in this Pizza-plex is mine. You guys at Fazbear may think you own us... but ya, don't. Me and my family could have left at any time we wanted. I stayed for Sun cause he likes being a daycare attendant. Lunar stayed cause... well, he didn't know what else to do with himself after leaving Eclipse. Earth stayed because she liked the kids and wanted to spend time with me and Sun. Heck, Solar doesn't even like working here all that much. He only works here for access to the tools and free movies he gets to watch. None of us actually like working for you. That's no secret. What was a secret, though, is that I had this whole place rigged... and rigged to blow."

The choking executive glanced at Moon with fear in his eyes when he heard Moon say he had the whole Pizza-plex rigged to blow. "Y-you have what?" One of the fearful executives asked.

"Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention.. I rigged this whole place to explode if I ever needed to or if you guys tried anything like... this. I would have blown up the whole Pizza-plex. Heck, I planned on doing it a lot of the time, but then I remembered Sun really likes this job, and if I blew up the Pizza-plex, then where would all the other Glamrocks go? And I-I could just never find the time." Moon squeezed the head executive's neck a bit, cutting off almost all his air supply and carried on the conversation so casually as he did it was like he rehearsed this talk a million times.

"Now... he's what I'm thinking. I can tie all three of you up and rig the whole Pizza-plex to explode when I leave, turning you three and this place into a pile of ash..."

"Please, I have kids!" One of the executives pleaded.

"Or..." Moon paused on the "or" for dramatic affect. "I can let you all go... and we can pretend this never happened. You let me and my family leave. You guys can keep your lives and some of the channels revenue and me and my family get to move on with our lives without any worry of new threats coming for us. Got it?"

The three executives shook their heads up and down rapidly agreeing to Moon's terms.

"Good." Moon said in a sinisterly happy voice that would make the devil from the Bible shiver in fear. Moon threw the head Fazbear executive at his two executive buddies, knocking them all to the ground. Moon smiled, picked his box of stuff back up, and unlocked the door for himself. As the head executive gasped for air, he couldn't just let Moon walk away all victoriously. He had to be the one who came out on top.

"We.. we.. *gasp* have cameras.. we'll... we'll destroy you and your family with that footage. They'll see you a-as dangerous monsters."

"One they already do, and two, all the footage has been altered its just been seeing a loop of me cleaning the daycare this whole time."

The executive looked to a corner of the daycare and saw the camera was down, obviously stuck on a loop of Moon cleaning, just as Moon said. The head executive tried one last attempt to scare Moon into submission. "We'll.. we'll sue you and your family... you'll be scrapped."

Moon snickered and held onto the door

"If I recall you correctly, you said, "we don't have rights." You'd just end up suing yourself. Fazbear takes all the heat for our crimes, not us. Perk of being an animatronic." Moon said, smirking proudly. He began to walk out of the daycare, closing the large oak doors behind him. The head executive tried to speak again, but Moon shut him up with just a few simple numbers and letters. "3415 west avenue street, Hurricane Utah. You live in the blue two story house on the corner of Maple Street, and your wife usually picks you up at ten cause you work late and got your license suspended after a road rage incident even though she much rather be watching Judge Judy with her wine friends and talking about how she wishes she married the quarterback from high-school instead of you." Moon stared at the executive, giving him a look that silently said."Try me."

The head executive finally fell silent, snapping his mouth shut before he said something that really ticked off Moon. Moon took one last look around the daycare to see if any of them wanted to speak again. Once he was sure they were sufficiently scared, he smiled. "Good talk, gentlemen. Good night."

Moon took hold of the door and began to walk out of the daycare before he paused and added, "Oh, and in case any of you get any funny ideas, I also have your phones tapped and have already hacked every camera in Fazbear HQ so if you tell anyone... I'll know." Moon flashed one last sinister smile to the executives and finally left the daycare.

"Night, gentlemen. Been a pleasure working with ya."