#Official certificate design

[simcardiac-arrested]

never volunteer for anything university related man. also go listen to this

[interpreterhongkong]

Ever wondered how a certified translation in Singapore works? This infographic breaks down the entire process—from understanding when you need a certified translation to the factors that influence its cost. Don't miss out on these key insights that can save you time and money!

[marvelstoriesepic]

Beneath the constellations

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky x Scared of needles!Reader

Summary: You are a needle-phobic but somehow agree to get a small, meaningful friendship tattoo with your best friends Darcy and Jane.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Needle phobia; mild panic; anxiety; physical discomfort; descriptions of a tattoo needle; nervous rambling; comfort

Author’s Note: This again is a request from one of my sweetest mutuals! I adore you, my dear and I hope you like what I did with your interesting and so creative idea ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

Your knee is bouncing. Your heart is racing. The design is folded up in your hands - a little tattoo that is so simple, tiny, meaningful - but your palms are sweaty and you can’t stop assaulting the inside of your cheek with your teeth.

The walls of the tattoo parlor are soft with shadows. Dark navy paint. There is low music humming along but it’s not soothing anything inside you. Sterilization hangs in the air and there’s also ink and something smoky - cedarwood or sage. It stays at the back of your throat like a ghost you swallowed by accident.

The waiting room is actually pretty aesthetically pleasant but you feel like choking on your own spit.

The cold vinyl bench beneath you vibrates with your leg rapidly moving up and down and up and down.

“I can’t do this,” you mutter lowly. “Oh my god. I’m gonna pass out.”

Darcy, sitting on your left, gives you a smile that doesn’t ease you at all. “You’re not getting open-heart surgery, babe. You’ve got to chill your beans.”

Jane, sitting on your right, grabs your leg to still its movement. She probably got annoyed at being shaken with the whole bench. “It’s so small, I’m sure you will barely feel it,” she tries to reassure you.

Darcy nudges you. “And it will stay on your body forever.”

“This is not helping at all, Darc,” you half whine, half grumble. “Can’t we just make this temporary, or something? Like, I don’t know, draw it on with a sharpie?”

“Hell nah,” Darcy complains. “This is for life,” she goes on, pointing wildly at all of you three. “We are going to seal the deal. Make it forever, officially.”

You want to laugh. Or scream. Or run. Or disappear.

A part of you thought this would be fine. That you could sit here like a normal adult with a normal nervous system and be needled with grace and honor. That the tattoo you promised you’d get with your best friends - the tiny one, the subtle one, the one you talked about under a summer sky, lying on your backs in a parking lot eating cold fries - would somehow feel like a small ceremony. Like something important.

Instead, your palms are damp and your stomach is a washing machine of dread and iced coffee. It turns round and round and round in circles, making you instinctively look for a nearby trash bin.

The door creaks open.

And then he walks in.

Bucky Barnes, according to the framed certifications on the wall. Also according to Darcy, who not-so-subtly whispered oh my god he’s hot when you walked in earlier and now leans in to your ear, to whisper “oh my god, he’s even hotter in person.”

He’s broad-shouldered and tall. Black tee, black jeans. Arms inked to the wrists in clean, complex lines. Geometric patterns like armor. You spot a white wolf curled around a blooming branch. A forget-me-not. The tattoo work is detailed. Almost luminous. An artwork of constellations on his skin, coiling like a secret he’s allowing the world to glimpse.

He looks at you.

You stop breathing.

“You ready?” he asks, voice a low rasp.

You make a sound that might be English. Might be a prayer. Might be a dying animal.

He blinks, then smiles. Just a little tug at the corner of his lip.

“Maybe one of you should go first,” you say to your friends quietly, voice barely hanging on.

“It’s not the gallows, babe,” Darcy muses, nudging you again.

“I know, but I-”

Jane cuts you a dry look, interrupting. “You made us matching Google Calenders for this.”

“I was drunk on sentiment and pinterest,” you argue but it’s useless.

“No stalling. You can’t back out now.“

“I’m not backing out,” you grumble. “I’m delegating the trauma.”

But they’re not moving. Not budging.

You indignantly get up. Slowly. Darcy leans over and smiles sharply, mischievously. “Hey, just ask if you can hold his hand during the act.”

You choke. On air. On dignity. On the sudden imagine of his fingers wrapped around yours. And you’re up, throwing her a last glare that lacks all the heat.

You turn to Bucky and he is full-on smirking now. Though his voice is not mocking.

“We can take our time,” he says gently, and gestures toward the door that will, as you can imagine, lead you to the torture chamber. Yes, that’s dramatic. Yes, you don’t care. Yes, you are spiraling.

After sending your friends a panicked look and them not that supportively giving you thumbs up in return while grinning brightly, you follow him as if you’re approaching your own funeral.

You walk like you’re made of wires and wet paper. Trailing behind him into the back room, your chest beating out the morse code for panic.

The chair is deceptively comfortable. Everything is clean and neat and doesn’t smell scary but your heart is beating so loud, you think it’s bruising your ribs.

He sits down on a stool, brings it closer to you with one hand, and adjusts his gloves. He moves slowly, most definitely for your sake.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not,” he says, soft and even. “You’d be surprised how many people get nervous.”

You inhale. Exhale. Fail.

“I’m Bucky,” he says easily, glancing at you with eyes the color of melted steel and winter storms. You give him your name and he smiles. “What are we doing today?”

You fumble with the paper in your hands, clumsy movements lifting it to show him.

It’s stupid, honestly. Three tiny constellations in a delicate arc. Only a little bigger than a thumbnail. Barely enough to be called a tattoo.

He leans closer to look. His knee brushes yours and you hold your breath.

“I know it’s small. It’s dumb. I mean, not dumb, like-”

Bucky waits.

Silent. Patient. The corner of his mouth tilts up.

“It’s three constellations.” The words tumble out of you, messy and fast. As if trying to explain your favorite dream to a stranger who wasn’t there. “Mine, Jane’s, and Darcy’s. We got stranded once during a road trip, out in the middle of nowhere, and the car battery died. So we laid on the hood, freezing our asses off, and waited for a tow truck under this crazy clear sky. Jane started pointing out stars and we found our constellations. And we just talked. About everything. So we-”

You stop.

Because you’re talking too much. Because your face is hot. Because he’s watching you as if he’s listening.

And Bucky only smiles. Just this small, warm curve of his mouth that feels like praise.

You blink too hard. Look down at your hands.

“It’s silly.” You just can’t help explaining yourself. “I know it’s barely anything. And it’s not even a real design, really. I’m not even supposed to be here, I mean-”

You stop again. Press your lips together.

He’s still looking at you. Calm. Not judging. Not laughing.

“You were saying?” he asks, voice quiet.

You breathe in a shaky breath.

“I’m scared of needles,” you admit embarrassed. “Like. Deeply, irrationally scared. I had to get a flu shot once and almost took out the poor nurse with my bag.”

Bucky huffs out a short and amused laugh, but his eyes are genuine and sympathetic. He nods like that’s the most normal thing anyone’s ever said.

“It’s not dumb, sweetheart. Nor is it silly.” You’d be on the floor if you were standing up. “I like it,” he says earnestly. “Three stars. Three best friends. Kind of poetic.”

“Yeah, it’s-” you stammer. “It means a lot to us.”

“That’s nice to hear.” His eyes rake over you so intensely, so sincere. “Some of the best tattoos I've done were barely the size of a freckle.”

You don’t know if he’s saying this to make you feel better, but either way, you are not sure it helps.

You feel like your skin is trying to slip off your body.

He opens the packaging with quiet and sure movements that still seem to be a little slower than he would probably be normally.

“I tattoo six-foot-tall dudes who pass out cold,” he starts soothingly. “You’re sittin’ here, scared, and still doing it. That’s brave.” He says it so simply.

You stare at him. Try to believe it.

“May I?” he asks, looking up at you, and gesturing toward your arm.

You nod. Too fast.

He reaches out carefully like you’re glass and holy.

His fingers are warm. Gentle. He adjusts your wrist, turning it slightly toward the light. It feels like gravity has shifted. Like the earth tipped a little, just to watch this happen.

His thumb brushes against the inside of your forearm, where your pulse is having a complete existential crisis. His touch might be absentminded but it sparks something that goes way too deep. A tremor. A stormcloud. A sigh under your skin.

“Right here okay?” he asks, voice low.

You swallow. “Yeah. That’s good. That’s perfect.”

The needle glints in the light like a tiny sword ready to tear apart your skin.

“You sure?”

“No,” you say honestly, voice a little unstable. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

He chuckles under his breath and his smile changes, gets softer, younger.

You let out a breath. Try to remember the sky that night, the way the stars felt close enough to kiss. But there’s something else you’d rather kiss right no-

“I’ll go slow. And I’ll be gentle. Promise,” he says, almost under his breath. “Just breathe.”

You nod. Let him see the fear. Let him see you choose it away.

He turns on the machine. Your hand is shaking. The buzz rings in your ears.

He touches your arm again. Carefully. Steadying you. Taking in an exaggerated breath for you to follow.

“Tell me if you need a break,” he states softly, but there is something else in his tone. “Or, you know. If you want to hold my hand.”

You freeze. Not sure if you heard that right. Your brain is a flock of birds flapping around your skull.

“I- What?”

He smiles. Not teasing. Not smug. It’s soft. It’s kind.

“Some people do better with a distraction,” he says like it’s no big deal. So casual, but his undertone makes you promise yourself to punch Darcy Lewis later on.

You stare at him for a second too long, not sure if he is even serious. You feel like you’ve been thrown into a different body. One that’s nervous and melting and acutely aware of every square inch of air between you.

His palm lays open as an invitation. Looking so soft and callous at the same time.

“Can you even do this with one hand?” you ask cautiously.

He smirks. “You bet I can, darling.”

After a patient moment, you reach out, fingers finding his, and he shifts just enough to meet you halfway. His grip is loose and open, letting you decide how much to hold on.

And you do. Not tight. But not soft either.

It’s safe.

He starts.

The needle meets your skin sharp and sudden, but it doesn’t feel unbearable. You’re too focused on the fact that you’re literally holding hands with the hottest guy you’ve seen in a long while. Maybe ever. His thumb has started tracing circles on the back of yours.

You’re not sure how much time passes. Minutes stretch and snap and vanish but then it’s over.

The buzz stops. The silence blooms around you.

You blink down at your wrist, skin warm and reddened and wrapped in something tiny and starborn. Three constellations, nestled close.

He wipes it gently, thumb brushing away excess ink with a kind of care that makes you want to cry.

“It’s beautiful,” he says. Quiet. Like it’s just for you.

You don’t even realize he’s still holding your hand until he gives it a squeeze and pulls away to grab a mirror.

You almost say wait.

He places the mirror in your hand.

Your breath is lost somewhere deep when you look down at your inked skin. It’s so small. So perfect. Exactly what you hoped for, only softer now. As if it’s always been there. Meant to stay forever.

You glance up at him.

His eyes are warm. Curious. “Took it like a champ,” he says.

You shrug, a little shyly. “I didn’t faint. So that’s a win.”

He lets out a low chuckle. The sound does things to you.

“I’ve seen people pass out from paper cuts. You’re fine,” he assures.

You don’t know what to do with that or the heat pooling at your neck, so you look down again. Tracing the constellations with your eyes like you’re learning to read a new kind of language.

“Thank you,” you offer, and it’s not just for the ink. It’s for the kindness. The patience. The hand-holding. The compassion. “I love it.”

“No need to thank me, darling.”

He takes a few more moments studying you before peeling off his gloves and standing up.

You stand too. Your legs wobble a little, traitorous and unsure, and his hand hovers near your back.

You don’t say anything.

But you feel it.

All of it.

The warmth.

The hush.

The stars, still burning softly beneath your skin.

[atomicrebelfire]

✍️Tommy Kinard: Speculating His Rank in the LAFD (Canon + Structural Analysis) 📊📋🧵

📍TL;DR: Based on canon clues and real-world LAFD structure, Tommy Kinard is most likely a 🎖️Fire Helicopter Pilot V—the highest pilot classification. His career path is unusual: he started in suppression at the 118 before transitioning into Air Ops using his Army flight experience.

-----------------At your own risk- Lets Spiral-----------------------------

While the show hasn’t explicitly stated his rank, there are enough visual, behavioral, and contextual clues/crumbs to build a solid case for where he fits within the LAFD—especially given the real-world structure of Air Operations.

Similar to Tommy’s military-to-LAFD career timeline, this is meant to be both canon-compliant and grounded in how the real LAFD operates, in order to build a plausible theory around Tommy’s role, rank, and seniority. It’s part character study, part structural breakdown.

🔍 Canon Facts/Clues (What We Know)

Tommy is introduced in S2 as a ground firefighter at the 118, and reintroduced in S7 as a helicopter pilot at Harbour Station.

In 7x04, he tells Buck that he used to be a pilot in the Army.

He has over 20 years of service in the LAFD (stated on-screen based of begins episodes).

He has taken helicopters out without formal clearance (7x03, 8x15). While reprimanded afterward, the fact that he has the access and autonomy to do so is notable.

He is seen launching without escort, clearly trusted to operate independently and justify his decisions after the fact.

He casually offers to teach Buck how to fly (7x04), suggesting he holds—or is qualified for—a trainer or flight instructor designation.

In 7x06, Tommy arrives at the hospital in turnout gear, soot-covered, after a fire at Angeles Crest. Raising questions about whether he was working suppression or Air Ops.

In 8x15, Tommy performs evasive maneuvers while being pursued by military helicopters—diving low, climbing high, and weaving between towers—as part of an aerial diversion to buy time and deflect pursuit.

In 7x03, Tommy helps Hen bypass red tape by taking a helicopter without official approval, offering only a vague line about Central Bureau and brushing off objections from Melton.

🚁 How Most LAFD Pilots Get There

In real life, becoming a helicopter pilot in the LAFD follows a specific and highly competitive path:

Most candidates begin with military flight experience or are already civilian-rated pilots (e.g., with commercial or instructor licenses).

However, even military pilots must first complete four years of full-time suppression duty within LAFD before becoming eligible for Air Ops roles—there are no direct-entry exceptions.

That said, their military flight hours and FAA qualifications do count toward pilot certification requirements, making them strong candidates once they transition.

They are hired into pilot trainee roles (Fire Helicopter Pilot I or II) and must pass rigorous evaluations.

Air Operations is a separate track—pilots do not typically come from suppression (ground firefighting) units.

As a result, most LAFD pilots have never served on engines or trucks.

Pilots usually work 12-hour shifts (day or night), typically on a 4-on, 4-off schedule, and remain on-call at the airport rather than responding on the ground.

🧩 Real-World LAFD Air Operations Structure

LAFD helicopter pilots are classified under the following civil service ranks:

Fire Helicopter Pilot I or II - Pilot Trainee Roles

Fire Helicopter Pilot III – Entry-level pilot

Fire Helicopter Pilot IV – Senior operational pilot

Fire Helicopter Pilot V – Training/lead pilot (sometimes informally called “chief pilot”)

These ranks are lateral to suppression-side ranks like Firefighter, Engineer, or Captain. While pilots typically don’t carry the "Captain" title unless cross-trained—but senior pilots often operate with comparable authority within their unit.

🧭 Why Tommy’s Path Is Unusual

Tommy’s trajectory breaks the mold in several important ways:

He began his LAFD career in suppression, working as a firefighter at the 118.

Only later did he transition to Air Ops, requalifying based on his Army flight experience.

This kind of cross-track shift is rare—most suppression-side firefighters never move into aviation roles, especially after years on the ground.

🔄 Update (Post-Publication): As clarified by a kind commenter, all LAFD helicopter pilots must begin in suppression roles. So Tommy’s path actually aligns with departmental requirements.

What still makes him stand out, though, is how long he remained in suppression—over a decade—before switching tracks. That kind of deep dual experience is rare.

He’s probably one of the few who might have earned credibility in both areas: the fireground and the flight deck.

This dual-track background probably makes him a unique versatile asset with extensive experience to the department.

🧵 What That Tells Us About Tommy

Tommy’s military aviation experience likely included high-risk flying, tactical decision-making, and possibly training roles—skills that directly translate to LAFD Air Ops.

He entered the LAFD through standard firefighter routes—like all Air Ops pilots must—but instead of transitioning to aviation early, he stayed in suppression for over a decade before requalifying as a pilot. (But why?! 💭🤔)

That makes his path both rare and earned.

His ability to take out helicopters independently, despite the fallout, signals a level of seniority and operational trust only afforded to top-tier personnel.

His offer to teach suggests a CFI (Certified Flight Instructor) license or LAFD-equivalent designation, reinforcing that he may also serve in a training or mentoring role.

Tommy might still be dual-certified (implied by full turnout gear after the Angeles Crest response. (Or the show forgot he’s a pilot?!)🫨🤐)

His evasive flying during the diversion mission —dodging military helicopters —points to tactical or combat-style flight training. Possibly special ops. (So sexy.😘)

He’s senior enough and holds enough field authority or just bold enough to fake it to casually override protocol with a “You didn’t get the call?” deflection.

🧠💥 Conclusion: Most Likely Rank 🎖️

Tommy Kinard is almost certainly a Fire Helicopter Pilot V, or at the very least, a senior Pilot IV on the cusp of promotion. He’s not formally titled “Chief Pilot,” but functionally operates as one—with over two decades in LAFD, firsthand suppression experience, and the kind of authority and autonomy that reflects a deeply trusted position and seniority to push limits.

He may not wear Captain’s bars, but between his dual-track career, leadership instincts, and ability to push protocol when it counts, he clearly stands shoulder-to-shoulder with the station’s most senior personnel. 💬 If I missed something or misread a clue, feel free to correct me (kindly)—or share your own version. Always open to digging deeper. After all… the writers clearly aren't worried about consistency. 😌

📎PS: 🤷‍♂️ All of this is, of course, pure speculation—built off canon clues/crumbs, real-world LAFD structure, and my completely healthy, not-at-all obsessive need to spiral over every background detail the show refuses to explain. I know 9-1-1 isn’t always that deep (and sometimes barely tries). Don’t worry, I’m seeking a therapist. 🙃👩‍⚕️ learning to chill.😎🪭

if you read till the end 🫡 & don't ask why we needed to know all this!

✨ Update: Added more canon evidence from 8x15 and 7x03 that reinforce Tommy’s seniority + elite training 👀🚁 (That somehow got lost in my Excel-to-Tumblr exchange. Damn. I need to stop. I’m putting myself in a time-out. Bye.) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- PS 2: Okay, so I did mess that up🤣—turns out all LAFD pilots need to start in suppression for 4 years, and someone kindly pointed that out (thank you!! 🙏). Just to clarify, this post isn’t absolute fact—I don’t have a firefighting background, just sharing what I could find. Also, I am not from USA. please take all of this with a grain of salt. this is just a fun exercise. I've now learned even more about fire department structures than I ever planned to.

Seriously guys, stop enabling me 😭 I should be updating my resume, not drafting municipal org charts for fictional men.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - June 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. Missoula, MT Adopts Pride Flag As "Official Flag," Legally Defying Ban On Flying It

“Montana HB819 was intended to ban Pride flags from flying on city property, but had an exception for "official flags." So Missoula made the Pride flag an official flag. […] In Salt Lake City, council members moved to designate the Pride flag, the transgender flag, and others targeted by state bans as “official city flags.” Boise, Idaho, took the same approach after its state legislature enacted a similar restriction.”

2. Dilly Dally the sea turtle returns to the ocean after flipper amputation

“An adolescent loggerhead sea turtle named Dilly Dally crawled into the Atlantic Ocean Wednesday morning, months after having a front flipper amputated at a Florida turtle hospital. […] A satellite tracking device attached to Dilly Dally’s shell will allow the center and the public to follow her journey. […] All sea turtles are endangered or threatened species. “So every sea turtle that we can save and get back out there is the win for the species.””

3. Japan’s First Zero-Waste Town: Kamikatsu

“[… R]esidents are encouraged to bring their waste to a Zero Waste Centre and separate it themselves at different stations that correspond with each of the [45] waste categories. […] By 2020, the town was recycling 81 per cent of all its waste, far above Japan’s national average of 20 per cent. […] In true circular economy thinking, the first step in the town’s waste process is not disposal but reuse, with items directed to a free thrift store[….]”

4. Puerto Rico Supreme Court recognizes ‘X’ as third gender for birth certificates in landmark decision

“Puerto Rico’s Supreme Court has mandated that the government include an “X” gender marker on birth certificates in a ruling issued on Monday. A group of nonbinary Puerto Ricans filed the case, and the ruling allows for the representation of those who identify outside of the gender binary. […] “Specifically, Plaintiffs request the Court to order the Demographic Registry of Puerto Rico to modify its application to amend a Puerto Rican birth certificate, to include an option to change one’s gender marker to an ‘X.’””

5. Smallest otter in the world rediscovered in Nepal after 185-year absence

“WWF is helping to build community stewardship for the conservation of otters and their prey, raising awareness and strengthening livelihoods. […] 375 local community members have received training on traditional gear, fish breeding seasons and eco-friendly fishing practices. […] Sonaha and Tharu households have also been supported in establishing small businesses that use their local knowledge and are less reliant on the river’s resources[….]”

May 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[reality-detective]

Something To Think About 👇

UNDERSTANDING: "THE WIZARD OF OZ"

"The Wizard of Oz = The Crown Temple. This is not a mere child's story written by L. Frank Baum.

What symbol does "Oz" stand for?

Ounces... Gold.

What is the yellow brick road?

Bricks or ingot bars of gold.

The character known as the Straw Man represents that fictitious ALL CAPS legal fiction a PERSON - the Government created with the same spelling as your Christian birth name.

Remember what the Straw Man wanted from the Wizard of Oz? A brain! No legal fiction has a brain because they have no breath of life!

What did he get in place of a brain? A Certificate. A Birth Certificate for a new legal creation. He was proud of his new legal status, plus all the other legalisms he was granted. Now he becomes the true epitome of the brainless sack of straw who was given a Certificate in place of a brain of common sense.

What about the Tin Man?

Does Taxpayer Identification Number (TIN) mean anything to you?

The poor TIN Man just stood there mindlessly doing his work until his body literally froze up and stopped functioning. He worked himself to death because he had no heart nor soul. He's the heartless and emotionless creature robotically carrying out his daily task as if he was already dead. He's the ox pulling the plough and the mule toiling under the yoke. His masters keep him cold on the outside and heartless on the inside in order to control any emotions or heart he may get a hold of.

The pitiful Cowardly Lion was always too frightened to stand up for himself.

Of course, he was a bully and a big mouth when it came to picking on those smaller than he was. They act as if they have great courage, but they really have none at all. All roar with no teeth of authority to back them up. When push came to shove, the Cowardly Lion always buckled under and whimpered when anyone of any size or stature challenged him. He wanted courage from the Grand Wizard, so he was awarded a medal of "official" recognition. Now, regardless of how much of a coward he still was, his official status made him a bully with officially recognized authority. He's just like the Attorneys who hide behind the Middle Courts of the Temple Bar.

What about the trip through the field of poppies? They weren't real people, so drugs had no effect on them.

The Wizard of Oz was written at the turn of the century, so how could the author have known America was going to be drugged? The Crown has been playing the drug cartel game for centuries. Just look up the history of Hong Kong and the Opium Wars. The Crown already had valuable experience conquering all of China with drugs, so why not the rest of the world?

Who finally exposed the Wizard for what he really was?

Toto, the ugly (or cute, depending on your perspective) and somewhat annoying little dog. Toto means "in total, all together; Latin in toto." Notice how Toto was not scared of the Great Wizard's theatrics, yet he was so small in size compared to the Wizard, no-one seemed to notice him. The smoke, flames and hologram images were designed to frighten people into doing as the Great Wizard of Oz commanded. Toto simply went over, looked behind the curtain - the court - (see the definition for curtain above), saw it was a scam, and started barking until others paid attention to him and came to see what all the barking was about.

Just an ordinary person controlling the levers that created the illusions of the Great Wizard's power and authority. The veil hiding the corporate legal fiction and its false courts were removed. The Wizard's game was up.

It's too bad that people don't realize just how loud a bark from a little dog is. What about your bark? No matter how small your bark is - it can be heard.

Do you just remain silent and wait to be given whatever food and recognition, IF any, your legal slave master gives you?

Are you going to continue to follow the script by what they command of you? You are NOT a puppet so when they pull the levers to create their False Flags/Black Swan Events...

Ask: "Where is YOUR bark?" 🤔

What scares them? A "Pack of Dogs" removing the veil and all barking together, then the evil cowards will back down. They definitely do NOT want ALL of US standing TOGETHER barking.

[crowboy-bebop]

U.S.-based friends! For no particular reason, I'm compiling a list of resources that might be helpful to people in the coming four-ish years or so.

Medical Resources

Medical Information Removed By The Trump Administration

Jessica Valenti's Substack - a collection of the pages removed from the CDC's website. Includes documents on contraception and reproductive rights, sexual health, and intimate partner violence.

HRT

Trans Harm Reduction - website for HRT information, such as source testing, information on safe injection practices and disposal, and resources for sourcing injection suppplies. They also share links to healthcare resources.

DIY HRT: Everything I Can Legally Tell You by Lily Alexandre - information on self-medicating without a prescription. If this is unavailable, PLEASE let me know.

Reproductive

Plan C - an online database of telehealth providers, community networks, and websites that provide abortion pills by mail

Legit.Clinic - an easy way to check if a clinic is actually a crisis pregnancy center; uses Reproaction's database listed below

Crisis Pregnancy Centers

These are anti-choice organizations, usually run by or in connection to churches, who use misleading tactics and fearmongering to scare people out of seeking abortions. They often advertise things like "abortion counseling" (which is really just talking people out of abortion), and abortion pill "reversal." Their main purpose is to either scare you out of seeking an abortion, or to stall you long enough that the process to get an abortion is more difficult.

Reproaction's Anti-Abortion Pregnancy Center Database - an online database of anti-abortion "crisis pregnancy centers" that rely on misleading information to talk pregnant people out of getting an abortion

Expose Fake Clinics - an online resource for leaving reviews of crisis pregnancy centers and their misleading claims

Name and Gender Changes

Federal

SSA Sex Designation Change Questionnaire (archived) - as of Jan 26th 2025, this page has been taken down on the official Social Security website. That does NOT mean you cannot change your gender marker, it is just being purposefully obscured. One thing to note; even before the current administration, there was no option for an unspecified gender designation, so X will not be an option unfortunately.

Social Security Card Replacement - this is the form you will need to fill out in order to change your name or gender designation.

State

A4TE's ID Documents Center - state-specific information on how to change your name and gender marker on ID documents like birth certificates, driver's licenses, etc. Also has information on passports, but that is unfortunately outdated as of January 26 2025. (thanks, @wannabeast13!)

Miscellaneous

r/DataHoarder - a subreddit dedicated to archiving digital information. They've been heavily focused on documenting information that has been removed due to the Trump administration.

This is by no means an exhaustive list. I'm compiling resources as I find them. If you have anything you think should be added, send me a message!

Lastly,

It's Okay To Take A Step Back

Don't let the continuous onslaught of bad news send you into a doom spiral! Take a deep breath. Get some water. Log off, get together with friends, join or start local communities. The world isn't all bad, even if it feels like it is. The most important thing right now is that we stay together and not let the bad overwhelm us into apathy.

[pokemonshelterstories]

you've mentioned that you're qualified to work with inherently dangerous pokemon a few times - could you talk more about what makes a pokemon inherently dangerous? I've always been taught that all pokemon are potentially dangerous in the sense that even a lillipup could really hurt me if sufficiently motivated, but from the fact that there's a specific qualification for it I assume there's a set of criteria for a pokemon to be considered officially inherently dangerous?

"inherently dangerous" in this context is an official designation of the interregional ranger union for work with wild pokemon, used for pokemon where interacting with them presents an immediate and significant risk of serious harm or death. there are several subcategories that specify what the particular danger is. for some, it's because of their sheer size or strength (subclass IIIb, for example, refers to pokemon with a base stat total of 550 or higher). for others, its because of their typical behaviors; pokemon that are by nature aggressive like primeape are classified for this reason. another possible reason is the pokemon's biology. certain poison types with particularly dangerous venom/poison or pokemon like slugma where just touching them would hurt you fall in this category.

these classifications are specifically for working with pokemon that have not been tamed or trained, and in a rehab context having this certification means i'm qualified to work with these pokemon with the intent to rerelease them into the wild. but i think they can also make a good baseline for trainers who are interested in owning these pokemon! it's important to know the risks inherent to working with certain species. you're right that any pokemon has the potential to be dangerous, but these "inherently dangerous" pokemon are the ones that are most likely to cause damage or harm just by being in their vicinity.

[wardarose2004]

Who's your favorite diaboy? Could you write some HC about him?

Ooh... Never thought someone would ask me this Question 😃 I like all of them somehow but my current favorite is Carla Tsukinami....

Carla Tsukinami Headcanon 👑🌕🦅🦇🐍🐺

Carla Tsukinami is the eldest brother of the Tsukinami family. The eldest son of Giesbach , the Ancestor King, and Krone , his empress wife. The current king of the clan. Along with Shin, he is one of the last representatives of the race.

He looks 18 but is several hundreds year old.

He's born in May 28, a Gemini ♊

Height-183cm; Weight-65kg; Foot size-27cm as Same as Reiji's 🌚; Body mass index-19.4; Blood group-AB

Morikawa Toshiyuki is his japanese voice actor.

He has 'sharp' amber eyes and long upper eyelashes.

There are dark spots on the body from endzeit.

Yui noted that Carla had large, strong hands and rather long fingers . (CL)

His hair is white with grey-violet tips. Yui has often commented on the smoothness, softness and beauty of his hair. In Born To Die Vol.1, Carla first heard a compliment about his hair. When he washes his face, he ties it up (Chaos Lineage Yoyaku Tokuten Drama CD) . In LE Carla Manservant End, she combed his hair.

He's acts as 3rd grader in Ryotei. His main profession is Founder King.

He's lazy, brute and sadist by heart. But he's a great leader(LE,CL). Though according to current interview with Shin, Carla has very bad life skill.

He once mistook dirty magazine as wallet in a drama CD.

Likes to drink blood from throat and collarbone where it hurts most.

He hates being identified as vampire. So much that he hit Yui/MC/Player just for assuming he's one in DF Carla dark prologue.

Favorite food ｢生ハム｣ = "dried ham" (character profile on the official website) .

Disliked food ｢Dirty Blood｣ = "dirty blood" (Character Profile of the game More,Blood) .

Carla thinks that cured ham and melon are the perfect combination. Much to Kanato's disgust.😆

Praised Kanato's taste in sweets and dessert in LP Kanato route Subscenario Carla.

Can tell if a ham is good just by looking at it. [LP Date with Tsukinami]

He was afraid to order food in a human family cafe because everything there is cheap. [DIABOLIK LOVERS LOST EDEN - Stellaworth Bonus CD]

Doesn't like Japanese food but liked takoyaki and nagashi somen(tweet). Can't use chopsticks.

His hobby is ｢絵画収集｣ = "collecting paintings" (character profile on the official website) .

He is expert in painting related researches. Once helped Ayato with his art related project in 4koma manga.

Once Laito braided Carla's hair. It's a surprise he didn't kill or push him away like he pushed Reiji away from trying to tie up his hair in LP Carla route Subscenario Reiji.

Prefers landscapes. Often wastes money by buying paying paintings and cured ham. Poor Shin😆 Shin's having hard time managing the Bandamen's economy preventing themselves from going bankrupt 😆

Can fence.

His route theme in the game Dark Fate ー ｢切なる願い｣ = "cherished desire" (Perfect Guide Dark Pleasure , Dark Fate Official Visual FanBook ) .

In Chaos Lineage, he is the head of the Violet Family. His "chess piece" is the King (CL OP) .

In the game Lost Eden, the Vampire Leader in his route is Shu.

Kanji used to describe it by its developers: Iwasaki Daisuke (director) ー ｢始｣ ("originality"), Yumi Yamada (writer) ー ｢王｣ ("king") ( B's-LOG No. 10.2022 ) .

Personal mineral from the merch collection ｢Masquerade Jewel｣ - golden tigers eye.

Major Arcana from the collection ｢Vampire 13 Tarot Card｣ー the emperor.

Carla's specialty in the medical certificates for AGF 2017 is "Cardiologist".

In the official Rejet poll "Character You Wouldn't Introduce to Your Parents", Carla was ranked 31st.

There is a big age difference between Carla and Shin. [Shin's route LE Ecstasy Epilogue] Shin has just been born, while Carla is already in his teens.

Carla and Shin study in a specially designated class at Ryotei High School. King privilege💅

Doesn't really understand puns and sarcasm.

Carla calls Yui and the other boys except Shin "kisama", a very disrespectful Japanese word for "you". Geis addresses Carla and Karlheinz addresses Geis as Kisama too

Carla admits that Karlheinz was great and perfect for him, which is why he hates him. Also admires Karl's amazing powers[DF maniac prologue Carla's route] But hates Vampires.

In [LP Date with Tsukinami], Yui notes that Carla cuts ham well and neatly.

In [LP Date with Tsukinami], Carla styled Yui's hair beautifully.

Although he read a lot about people in order to learn to understand them, he still did not know what summer, Christmas, amusement parks,Dj booth,Samba dance, etc.

One day, when Carla was still imprisoned in Pandemonium, the screams of children who had lost their families echoed throughout the castle. They surrounded the castle. Karla has not been able to stand them since. [LP]

In [LP], Karla was at a parade for the first time in his life, and was interested in the roller coaster. He was not impressed. But Yui actually secretly keeps a photo of him that was quite impressed. (It's a photo from the ride manager, taken during the ride.) Laito managed to keep one and blackmailed Shin to give him money or he would expose the photo to public.

Yet that photo was exposed to us in a drama CD oustagram by Kino😆

Carla knew that Yui would die someday and offered to make her immortal in [LP]. Carla said that if he turned Yui into a Progenitor, there would be no need to continue searching for her heart.

He is not impressed by the lights on the trees. He thinks the stars are more beautiful.

In [his route's Reiji LP scene], Reiji tried to tie Carla's hair while he was eating, but Carla pushed him away and said that it was better for his hair to touch his food than for that vampire to touch his.

In one of the CD dramas, Carla had to explain a lesson to Yui. He asked what was bothering her and started stroking her head. Then he started pulling her hair and reproaching her for shaming him by not being able to understand the material. The carrot and stick method is the most effective, in his opinion. [DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS II: “THE ELDER BROTHERS' MEETING, DECIDE WHO IS THE STRONGEST BROTHER!”]

When the other vampires said that being 'attracted' to one's sister was disgusting, and mentioned that it was normal for the Progenitors, Carla became nervous and began to deny everything. Eventually, he retreated. [DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS II: “THE ELDER BROTHERS' MEETING, DECIDE WHO IS THE STRONGEST BROTHER!”]

In [LP] Carla is bitten by a demonic snake and begins to turn to stone.

Carla had never played baseball, but agreed to play with Kino for information about a place where dried ham was sold. He refused to hit the ball. [DIABOLIK LOVERS LOST EDEN - Stellaworth Bonus CD]

In [the CD drama Born To Die Vol.1], the main character gives Carla a hairpin with a pattern of white and red gloriosa flowers for her birthday.

Carla once got his head stuck in pumpkin head which Kino made fun in his 2016 tweet. Kino was once almost got killed for trying to prank Carla(tweet)

Carla's rooms are always covered with paintings. Both in Pandemonium, in the Tsukinami mansion in the human world, and in the Violet mansion.

His room is designed in crimson tones.

Has a lot of followers aka purists who often try visiting/visit him much to Shin's dismay.

According to Shin, his ideas are always sudden: for example, asking Yui to prepare everything for the brothers' meeting with an important person the day before this meeting [LP date with Tsukinami] .

Cats don't like Carla(LE and DF)

Hard to understand his emotion.

Carla has a strong sense of duty towards his race and clan

Likes to read books. He read religious and philosophical books written by humans to better understand people. He also read fairy tales and children's picture books - he liked them. But he doesn't seem to understand that they are meant for children, and he doesn't understand why you laugh. He read fairy tales to the ancestral children when he was locked in Pandemonium. [DF Carla Dark Epilogue]

Not very good at cleaning. [according to Yui from CL story 9] and can't cook. [CL]

Says that women's appearance doesn't interest him, because they are 'just bones covered in skin and flesh'. A body positive sadistic king 🤣

He is attracted to women with a strong character.

Has personal dairy.

Once admired broken glasses(broken by Subaru) as an street art in 4koma manga.

Subaru admired his strength in Carla LP route Subscenario Subaru and in LE.

Called Subaru a love child.

Admired his father but later hated him. But still respects him.

Once dressed as Santa and dressed Shin as Reindeer after recieving orders from his father in his dream (though I suspect it's Karl disguising as Geis to deceive Carla) and gifted Sakamakis, Mukamis and Kino high quality scarf.

Demonic abilities:

As a progenitor, he can transform into the forms of other races: a snake ( vibora ), a wolf ( wolf ), an eagle ( adler ) and a bat ( vampires ).

Can use magic (fire, lightning, temporarily immobilize opponent, can erase storm, cause rain, erupt volcano?, set up barriers, make water dragon, make scarf magically longer, destroy walls within a blink, probably can divide sea like Moses😆, light up sky with magic, play instruments with magic without touching or having experience about them😆 etc.).

Can shapeshift? Create illusion?

In [the CD-drama VERSUSⅢ Vol.1 アヤトVSカルラ] he used his power to appear in another dimension: he was in the same place as Ayato, but Ayato didn't see him, unlike Carla. And he attacked Ayato through dimensions.

Can teleport.

Can summon familiars and control them.

Can resurrect someone for a while (for example, Cordelia from Ayato's route in DF)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Crossroad Blues | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon gore, canon violence, imposter syndrome, discussing grief and parental death

Word Count: 4935

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You sighed heavily as you pulled up a photo of Dean’s mugshot from the St. Louis Police Department. “Well, you’ve got a warrant out in St. Louis, and now, you're officially in the feds’ database.”

Dean grinned at you across the diner table. “Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something.”

“Dean, it’s not funny,” you scolded. “We’re fucked if we’re not careful.”

“Well, what do they got on you two?” Dean looked between you and Sam.

Sam muttered, “I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet.”

“No accessory? Nothing?” Dean chuckled.

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled.

The older brother laughed. “You're jealous.”

“Why the fuck would he be jealous, Dean?” you hissed.

Dean seemed caught off-guard. “Whoa, sweetheart, relax—”

“No, this is serious, man,” you replied, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. “Dee, I was completely off the grid before I met you. Now, we all got arrested— thankfully, Diana’s getting our mugshots and prints wiped from Baltimore— but I’m undocumented! My mom told me she gave birth to me in a motel room. This was after my parents had already been ‘missing’ for years. My brother and I have no birth certificates, I don’t have social security, I don’t have insurance, I don’t have a real driver’s license— they can book me for that reason alone. I’m fucked. You didn’t kill anyone. They actually have legitimate reason to book me.”

Dean’s plucky attitude dropped, and he turned around, slightly angry. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t exactly plan on getting arrested. And I’m sorry it screwed you over, okay? Chill out.”

You glared at him. “ ‘Chill out’?” You chuckled coldly. “ ‘Chill out,’ he says. I wouldn’t be as angry if you weren’t making stupid jokes.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop, okay? Jeez.”

Sam huffed. “Okay!” He slid papers between you and Dean who were scowling at each other. “Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed.”

Dean looked away from you and down at the paper, but you kept your eyes trained on him. “Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?” Dean questioned.

“Two days earlier,” answered Sam.

“Did he actually say Black Dog?”

“Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive.”

“Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?” the older brother asked.

“Well, maybe,” Sam shrugged.

“What's the lore on it?”

The brunet slid another page over to Dean. “It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big; nasty.”

“Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg,; ook at that one, huh?” He held up a picture and smirked at his brother. 

Sam glared at him.

Dean’s smirk slipped. “What? They could.”

Sam got up from the table and began heading out of the door. You followed Sam quickly. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around.

“What, Dean?” you snapped.

He shrank under your glare. “Look, I— I’m sorry, okay?”

You dropped the tension in your shoulders. “Yeah, me, too. I just— I worry about you. And you guys completely turned my life upside-down when you walked into it. And everything’s changing so fast; it’s kinda scary.”

Dean nodded as he started walking. “I get it. If it makes you feel any better, you’re changing my life, too.”

You looked over at him and smiled softly. He couldn’t quite meet your eyes after that admission.

***

You and the brothers interviewed the deceased’s former business partner, and the man seemed a little bitter. Apparently, Sean Boyden was a terrible architect around ten years ago. Then, suddenly, he was in Architectural Digest. A piece of information he gave you, though, aside from his bitterness, was that Boyden used to bartend at Lloyd’s before his overnight success.

Then, you went to the animal protection agency to gather information on complaints or phone calls about a Black Dog. You were the one who went in to gather intel because you weren’t willing to take the chance of Dean being recognized from the St. Louis APB. You got back in the car and explained to the brothers what you’d found out. You held up the complaints list you’d gotten from the secretary. “Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, and dog-like. There's nineteen calls; all from Dr. Sylvia Pearlman.”

You headed to the woman’s home to interrogate her, only to find that the woman had disappeared two days ago.

“Hi, we’re Animal Control,” you told the woman who opened the door. “We’re looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?”

“The Doctor— well, she— I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago,” she said.

“Okay, and you are…?” Sam asked.

“I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid,” she introduced. “I’m not sure where she went. She just packed and left; she didn't say where. That stray dog: did you find it finally?” 

“Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?” Sam questioned.

She shook her head. “Well, no. I never even heard it.”

There were pictures on the wall of a brunette woman appearing in all of the photographs who you deduced was Dr. Pearlman. A picture that caught your attention was the woman at a bar with two friends. You turned back to the maid. “Hey, you know I read she was chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job.”

“Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position... ten years ago?” the maid thought aloud.

“Huh, an overnight success. Ten years ago,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, we know a guy like that.” Dean clicked his tongue.

“Oh, look at this,” you said. You flipped the photo from the wall over to show the writing on the back. “Lloyd’s bar.”

*** The bar was your next stop. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and you and the boys parked close to the gravel intersection.

Dean noticed something on the side of the road, and called to you and Sam, “Hey,” to get your attention.

“Yeah?” Sam questioned.

He nodded in the direction of yellow flowers growing around the edges of the crossroads. “That's weird. Think someone planted these?”

“Middle of all these weeds?” Sam questioned.

“These are, uh, what do you call 'em—” Dean snapped his fingers, trying to think.

“Yarrow flowers,” you noted.

“Yeah,” the older brother nodded. “Used for certain rituals, aren't they?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam commented. “Summoning rituals.”

You tsked. “So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's. Where there just so happens to be a crossroads.”

“You think?” Sam turned to you.

“Let's find out,” Dean said and started toward the center of the road. He bent over and looked up at you. “This seem about the dead center to you?”

You looked around a few moments before looking back at him and nodding. 

Dean dug a few inches into the hard soil with his hands and hit something solid. 

“Yahtzee.” He found an old Altoid tin and opened it to reveal several occult objects and a picture of an older man you hadn’t seen thus far on this hunt. 

“Holy shit, that’s graveyard dirt and a black cat bone. That’s… crazy Hoodoo spellwork,” you breathed out. “Used to summon a demon.”

“Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good,” Dean deadpanned.

“They're seeing dogs, alright,” Sam added. “But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls.”

“You guys ever come across this stuff before? I’ve only read about it,” you said, looking between the boys.

“No, never,” Dean replied. “Whoever this demon is, it's back, and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough.”

“So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?” questioned Sam.

“Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music,” you nodded.

Sam shrugged.

Dean looked at his brother, stunned. “You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's- there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, 'Crossroad Blues'? 'Me and the Devil Blues'?”

“ 'Hellhound on My Trail'?” you added.

Sam frowned, and Dean rolled his eyes. “The story goes, he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs.”

“And now it's happening all over again,” Sam said. “We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.”

Dean groaned. “Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play ‘Let's Make A Deal’.”

“So, what, we should just leave them to die?” scoffed the younger brother.

“Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?” the older one deadpanned.

“Dean,” you scolded gently.

“Fine,” he murmured. “Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing; let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive.”

***

The man’s name turned out to be George Darrow. He was the first person to summon the demon to Lloyd’s. Unfortunately for him, all he asked for was artistic talent; he had forgotten to ask for the recognition for it. His small studio apartment was littered with paintings; some half-finished and some completed. They were incredible. 

“Was it worth it?” you asked him.

“Hell no. I'm still broke and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst.”

Your heart broke a little for him. 

“Go on,” encouraged Sam.

“Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that,” he muttered. “After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but I mean, who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?”

“How many others are there?” questioned Sam.

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady— I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous,” George scoffed. “One more. Uh, nice guy, too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for.”

Sam shook his head. “No. No, there's gotta be a way.”

“You don't get it! I don't want a way!” George suddenly yelled. “I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time." He sighed. "Okay, kids. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.”

You and the brothers hesitated.

“Get out! I got work to do.”

“Mr. Darrow, could I—?” you started.

“What?! What do you want,” he spat.

“I just wanted to know if I could buy one of your paintings,” you said. “That little one over there.” You pointed to a small canvas, no bigger than a piece of printer paper. It was of a skull on a nun’s body with what looked like ectoplasm dripping from her eyes. The linework and blending of the oil paint was incredible. You were truly in love with it and had been eyeing it since you walked into the room.

“I don’t want your pity money, kid. But thanks,” he told you.

“I’m serious, I really do want it. I don’t wanna buy it off you out of pity,” you protested.

He considered, before nodding. “Just take it, kid.”

“Mr. Darrow—”

He couldn’t look at you as he spoke. “Take it. It’s payment enough that someone wants one of my paintings.”

Your heart broke for him even more, and you hugged the painting to your chest when he handed it to you. 

Sam paused before speaking again. “You don't really want to die.”

George turned back to you one last time. “I don't? I'm... I'm tired.”

You bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from crying as you left the man painting in his room.

You stored the painting in your bag when you returned to the Impala, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk as you drove to the Hudsons’ house to find the last crossroads victim.

***

You and the Winchesters rolled to a stop in front of a very nice house. You knocked on the door to reveal Evan Hudson moments later. “Yes?” he said, seeming shaken.

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago.” Dean cut straight to the chase.

Evan startled and slammed the door in your faces. You heard the latch click in place.

“Come on, we're not demons!” Dean called.

“Any other bright ideas?” Sam deadpanned. 

Dean stepped back, set himself, then kicked the door in in one go. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight, and you mentally scolded yourself. ‘You sick fuck, we’re on a case.’

You followed the brothers into the home and began searching through the rooms for Evan. You found a door closed at the end of the hallway, and Dean went to kick it in again. You stopped him by catching his leg. You turned the handle and pushed the door open gently. The room was completely silent as you entered. “Evan?” you called.

Evan jumped out from behind a bookcase, holding his hands up. “Please! Don't hurt me.”

Sam attempted to pacify him. “We're not going to hurt you, alright? We're here to help you.”

“We know all about the genius deal you made,” Dean gruffly said. 

Evan looked frantically between the three of you. “What? How?”

“Doesn't matter. All that matters is, we're trying to stop it,” Sam replied.

The man flicked his eyes between you and the brothers nervously. “How do I know you're not lying?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy.”

Evan swallowed harshly and started pacing. “Can you stop it?”

“Don't know,” you said earnestly. “We'll try.”

“I don’t wanna die,” he muttered, beginning to well up with tears.

Dean’s tone was almost mocking. “Of course, you don't, not now.”

You gently grabbed Dean’s wrist. “Dean, stop.”

He continued, ignoring you. “What'd you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?”

“My wife.”

The older brother laughed coldly. “Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for.”

“Dean!” you and Sam chided, more firmly this time.

“No. He's right, I made the deal,” Evan sniffed. “Nobody twisted my arm, that… woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but— I don't know how to— I was desperate.”

“Desperate?” Sam questioned.

“Julie was dying,” he lamented.

Dean suddenly softened. “You did it to save her?”

Evan nodded. “She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying… a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot.”

“Did you ever think about her in all this?” Dean questioned.

“I did this for her,” Evan protested.

Dean advanced on him, ripping his arm out of your hand. “You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?”

You put a hand on Dean’s chest and pushed him backward. “Knock it off,” you told him, giving him a sharp look.

Sam turned to Evan. “You just sit tight, alright? We're going to figure this out.”

You followed Dean out into the hallway. “What is your deal, man? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Hey, I got an idea.” He pulled out the goofer dust you’d gotten from George Darrow. “You and Sam throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.”

“Wait, summon?! Are you nuts?!” you protested. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You can’t. I won’t let you, okay? I can’t handle this properly if I’m worried about you.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes.

He put his hands on either side of your shoulders. “(Y/N), I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.”

Sam walked up behind you. “Yeah, but how much time?”

“I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine,” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, you can forget it, alright?” Sam argued. “I'm not letting you summon that demon.”

“Why not?” Dean grumbled.

“Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why,” Sam noted.

Dean turned around. “We don't have time for this.” 

Sam was able to stop him with a single word. “Dad. You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell. I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it, too.”

Dean didn’t turn back to face you and his brother, but quietly said, “It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?”

Evan called back from inside the room behind you. “It’s outside!”

“Just keep him alive, okay?” Dean instructed. 

“Dean!” you called.

“Go!”

You steeled yourself and turned back to the office Evan was in. You took a bag of Goofer dust from Sam and began covering the window sills and doors. Sam made a circle around Evan while you worked.

“What is that stuff?” Evan asked.

“Goofer dust,” Sam replied.

“You serious?” he scoffed.

“Yeah. 'Fraid so. Look. Believe me, don't believe me, whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, alright?”

You looked back to see Evan nodding. He began to hug himself, standing in the middle of the circle just as you and Sam finished coating the room.

Sam shook his bag out. “That’s the last of it.”

You paced around the room, Bowie knife in hand, as Sam tried to comfort Evan. All you could think about was Dean with the crossroads demon, and you prayed to a god you didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t make any stupid deals.

You knew how much his dad’s death was tearing him apart. You knew that even in that moment with him after he’d just woken up next to you in the apartment back in Philadelphia, his heart wasn’t fully there. You wished you could take away that pain for him. 

“(Y/N), are you trying to increase your step-count or something?” Sam asked you.

You barely registered his snarky question. “What?”

“You’re pacing. Like, a lot.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said.

“God, you and Dean were made for each other.” Sam shook his head, chuckling slightly.

You deadpanned at him. “Shut up.”

Evan whirled around at something you couldn’t hear or see.

“What?” Sam asked him.

“You hear that?” Evan asked. 

“Hear what?” you questioned. “Where is it?”

“Right outside the door,” Evan said quietly.

Suddenly, the doors began to rattle violently. Sam stepped inside the circle of goofer dust, but you stayed outside of it, gripping your bowie knife tightly.

“Just don't move, alright?” Sam told Evan. “Stay where you are.”

The rattling droned on for several minutes before it stopped suddenly.

“Do you still hear it?” Sam asked.

“No. Is it over?” Evan breathed out.

You whipped around to the sound of rumbling from a grate nailed to the wall. You stared it down until it burst off the wall, kicking dust from the vent into the room.

“It's here!” Evan exclaimed.

Deep claw marks gouged into the floor up to the circle, and they stopped just before the edge. The hellhounds had apparently completely ignored you, but you tempted fate by pissing them off. You dug your bowie knife into where you thought the back of one of the creatures was.

“(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing?!” Sam yelled. 

You cried out in pain as an invisible force slashed at your leg. Deep claw marks appeared on your thigh, ripping through your jeans. 

“(Y/N), no!” Sam screamed.

You slashed at your leg with your knife and hit something solid. 

“(Y/N), get inside the circle, you maniac!” Sam chided.

“Trying!” you replied, pulling the knife out of the solid thing you’d hit. Nothing seemed to work on the hellhounds, though, and your knife only stalled them momentarily. You crawled, scrambling over to the circle, careful not to disrupt it as the hounds got one last lash in at your leg. You sat back against Sam’s legs, holding your leg and breathing through your teeth.

“Jesus, (Y/N/N), are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Sammy, do I look okay?” you groaned, trying to keep still on the floor despite the pain in your right thigh and left calf.

He paused for a moment. “Fair point.”

The windows flew open, disrupting the Goofer dust that had been laid on the window sill and slowly beginning to blow the dust away from around you, Sam, and Evan.

“Circle's broken. Come on!” Sam pulled you and Evan.

“Sam, take him! Go!” You threw your knife at him and stayed in the slowly breaking circle, and Sam obliged. You stayed on the ground, praying that the hellhounds would leave you alone. Thankfully, they did, and you tried to recollect the dust and build the particles up around yourself. Sam had long since sprinted out of the room with Evan in tow, and the scratches on the floor led out of the room and down the hall. 

You sat like that for a while, crying and in pain. You knew you needed to stop the bleeding on your thigh as it was bleeding way more profusely than your calf. You took your button-down off and wrapped it around your leg tightly. You threw your head back, chest heaving, at the pressure around the wound. You pulled your sock up around your calf to try and collect the bleeding there.

You could hear rattling from down the hall, and wished you could do something more to help. Suddenly, the pounding stopped.

“Sam?!” you called.

“(Y/N)! You okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah!”

“Is it over?” 

You considered for a moment before calling back, “I don’t know! I fucking hope so!”

You could hear Sam laughing getting louder and the sound of a door creaking. You assumed he was hesitantly checking the hallway out to see if he could make it back to you. “I think we’re good,” he called.

“Thank god,” you breathed out. You tried to stand, only to fall back on the ground almost immediately. “Fuck.”

Sam entered the office. “Shit, you’re bleeding a lot… uh—” He pulled out his phone. “Dean, Dean, is it over?... Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. It’s (Y/N) I’m worried about… No, no, she’s okay— for now, at least.”

“Hey!” you called. “I’m fine, Sam, really.”

“Oh, yeah? Try standing up, then,” he deadpanned at you.

You went to move but reconsidered at the throbbing in your leg. 

“That’s what I thought.” He turned back to his phone. “She tried to take on a hellhound… Yeah, yeah, okay. Just… get here. As fast as you can. And bring her bag. I know she’s got the first aid stuff in there.”

Evan reentered the room as Sam hung up the phone. “Holy shit!” Evan cried worriedly. “Is she—? Does she need a doctor? Hold on, I’ll call 911—”

“Don’t you dare, Evan,” you protested firmly, glare pinning him to the spot. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stitch myself up, ‘s all.”

***

When Dean arrived about fifteen minutes later, he was furious. “(Y/N), what the hell were you thinking?” He stormed into the room with your duffel bag in his hand. 

“Dean, I’m fine. Gimme the damn bag—”

He slammed it roughly on the ground, sitting next to you. “Let me see.”

You hesitated but unwrapped your leg upon Dean giving you a harsh look. 

He cursed under his breath when he saw your leg. “Fuck, (Y/N)...”

“Just let me stitch it up, I’ll be fine—”

“No,” he gruffly stated. “I’ve got it.”

Sam looked between you and Dean before taking Evan out of the room to calm him down. 

Dean began threading the needle. You sucked in air through your teeth. “Tell me what happened. How’d you stop it?” You were asking him to distract you.

He looked up at you, still angry, but complied anyway. “I cornered the bitch and made her let him out of his deal.” 

You paused, waiting for more. “And?”

He said, “And nothing.” And began to work on your leg.

“Dean,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist. “Talk to me, please. Talk me through this.”

He seemed to soften when he saw how much pain you were in. He took a deep breath as he tried his best to stitch you up gently. “She, um, she said my dad’s in hell. And… And he did make a deal. And she told me—” he paused, eyes welling with tears, “She told me she knows how torn up I am about it all. She told me she could bring him back, (Y/N/N).”

Your breath caught in your throat, no longer focused on the needle piercing your skin. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—” Tears welled in your eyes. 

“No. But…” he paused, tying off one stitch before moving to start the other one. 

“But?” you pressed.

“I sure as hell thought about it.”

Your stomach dropped. “Don’t you fucking do that to me, Dean. Dee, look at me.” You grabbed his face and forced him to look at you. “You cannot fucking give up. I won’t let you.” 

He turned his attention back to your wounds, moving to the last claw mark on your thigh. 

“I know you’re hurting,” you sniffed. “I know his death is killing you. It kills me to see you like this. But I’m not— ah!” You cried out when one of his stitches accidentally went too deep into your thigh. He looked at you apologetically as you continued to talk. “I’m not gonna let you trade places with your dad. You’re here for a reason. Your dad loved you enough to keep you here. And what you told Evan earlier? Have you even considered how much it would kill me if you were gone?! And Sam? Both of us would be crushed. You matter, Dean. Sam needs you.”

“(Y/N)—” he tried to stop your admissions as he finished wrapping your leg.

“No, dude. You need to hear this. I need to tell you this. I need you here, Dean. You’re my best friend. How do you think I’d feel if you were gone?”

He faced you. “I can’t— I can’t keep living like this.”

“And you won’t,” you said. “I know it’s cheesy, but it gets better. You won’t always dread waking up every day. You won’t always blame yourself. That’s just today.”

He shook his head. “How do you know that?”

You sighed. “Listen, both of us blame ourselves as the reason our dads are dead. And no matter how much I tell you that’s wrong, you’ll never believe me. Same way I’ll never believe you. And it hurts. I won’t lie to you. It fucking hurts for a while. But then… it gets better. Time and… the people in your life… make it better.”

He stared at you with sad eyes, unsure of what to say.

“And I know you don’t believe me right now, but… please, please, just trust me,” you begged.

Dean continued to stare at you, not saying anything, before standing up from the floor next to you. “C’mon, we gotta get back on the road.”

You sighed, trying to stand from the floor.

“Oh, fuck, I forgot,” he chuckled awkwardly, making you giggle. He swept you up in his arms and looked down at you with a gaze you couldn’t quite read. Dean then stared out ahead as he effortlessly carried you the rest of the way to the car. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[bisexualmcqueen]

I'm sorry if you already posted this, but this is about the details of the first cars movie, what was the car Pixar used for Lightning McQueen's sounds, bc I cannot for the life of me remember

ONE OF MY FAVORITEST TOPICS!!!!!!!!!!

so lightning, being a 2006 model/cars being in production in the early aughts, is based off of a gen4 NASCAR build. specifically a chevy monte-carlo of the early aughts, as seen in some of his early designwork:

[jogen klubein, 2000]

[bob pauley, 2002] [the art of cars]

some stats:

(from some sketchy assed 2000 website i wont link it but i do have it written down)

i used to swear up and down that there was a special feature that showed a few of the guys from skywalker sound recording one of the g4s (maybe a blue and white dodge??) at skywalker ranch in california (or at the airstrip with the other cars). it may have been an old interview or its on a blu-ray special feature somewhere, but i havent been able to find it. i either dreamt it up or its been lost?? no idea.

but what i have been able to find is some of the stock audio used in Cars. Supposedly this is work done by Ben Burtt at skywalker sound [lucasfilm] in the late 70's??: [link]

For NASCAR purposes, as far as i could tell their engines didnt change drastically from the 70s-2000's, so its not wholly inaccurate to use older clips.

a thing in my notes:

[mixonline. photo dead from link rot]

and now some examples of real-life mcqueens (an excuse to show you cool old stock cars) :

and a few various other references:

(note the flywheel sound we also hear in Cars!)

^video ive only skimmed so far but seems very informative.

and a few canon refs while im here:

[image mine, circa 2020. official 1:18 scale BANDAI replica with certificate of authenticity, approved by jay ward]

[time travel mater] (his carbon fiber cowl induction cover is very funny to me)

SO. to answer the question: its a mix of custom sound design and stock audio. its based in reality heavily, but i believe its also tuned for fiction/per character personality. i forget which interview said that it might be the mixonline one mentioned above or this old autoweek one. he's got something along the lines of partly SB2.2 and an R07. this does not mean pixar recorded specifically these motors, but prooobably something close.

and cars 3 pisses me off because they very clearly did not use any audio off of the g4s, which had a more specific screaming sound to them at high RPMs. COTR actually portrays his exhaust note more accurately than cars 3. Cars 2 is decent also, but the first film is chefs kiss.

i have more various unorganized lmq references but this ask is long enough now and probably doesnt make much sense because i am literally so amped about this topic. please note that this research is partly accurate and partly speculative/opinion. rejoice, mcqueens be upon ye.

[terkmc]

HACS, the Harrison Armory Combat System

The Harrison Armory Combat System, HACS for short, is a relatively new system of martial art developed by Harrison Armory. Designed to integrate with standard Armory doctrine, HACS is a modernized and modified version of traditional weapon-based martial art, mathematically optimized with aggregate combat data harvesting and extensive simulations in order to best suit the Armory’s propensity for energy and plasma based weapons.

The non-physical nature of an energy blade allows it to be able to pass through another physical blade, thus making strikes with an energy weapon almost impossible to block or parry; but also conversely makes it unable to block an attack from another weapon from simply passing through it. Thus, HACS is defined by its aggressive structure based on the principles of seizing the initiative and staying on the offense, direct footwork and economy of action, range control, and violence of action.

HACS fighters will typically stay out of range to formulate a plan of attack and maneuver into advantageous positioning, then explode into a short series of decisive strikes to force the enemy to defend. If the initial series of strikes do not kill or incapacitate, HACS fighters will then try to establish distance once again and return to neutral, preferably with follow up unarmed strike to push the enemy back and maintain initiative, though simply back-stepping is also an option if further aggression is ill-advised. HACS footwork is characteristically direct, moving back and forth in a straight line from the user to their opponent and eschewing complex footwork often seen in more traditional arts.

HACS encompass most forms of traditional melee weapons such as swords, axes, halberds and more, but befitting of a modern constructed martial art systems, HACS also accounts for modern modification and new designs, such variable emission setting allowing user to change the length of a blade mid-fight or even mid swing. HACS official training and certification requires a demonstration of mastery of the system's two basic disciplines, Energy on Blade (EB), the use of energy weapons against physical weapons, and Energy on Energy (EE), the use of energy weapons against each other. For most standard users and legionnaires, these two are enough, though further advanced disciplines are available for training, such as Energy and Shield (ES), incorporating the usage of personal shielding system into the martial art, both in conjunction with and against energy weapons.

Designed for vertical integration, HACS-M (Harrison Armory Combat System – Mechanized) is a sub-discipline of HACS for usage with mech combat. Formulated for ease of transition between systems, HACS-M employs much of the same principles and moves as HACS, maintaining its core direct aggression. The added durability of a mech and its comparatively lesser agility means HACS-M incorporate “Double Strike” in place of some defensive maneuver. “Double Strike” is an umbrella term for techniques where the user intentionally takes an attack in order to counter attack the opponent, using computer-mapped positioning to maximize armor placement and avoid damage to critical systems. Though designed for chassis class 1 to 3 and obviously ill-advised to unarmored personal combat, HACS-M has also been adapted for personal combat by heavily armored fighters, typically hard suit or power armor users.

As with most theories when put into practice, HACS and HACS-M has also splintered into countless variations over the years. While a centralized system still exists within the Armory’s standard armed force training, various other subsystems have popped up either through further independent modification, local adaptation, or syncretism with other martial arts. Of note are:

Valkyrie, an adaptation for aerial combat

Stinging Blade, a highly unorthodox and controversial syncretism with Jager Kunst pioneered by Sparri diaspora on Ras Sharma

DeSys, a school that emphasizes the destruction of enemy weapons instead.

[big-mean-trans-dyke]

About Us

Welcome, and thank you for visiting the official webpage for the Peace Officers. It's our goal to help protect the harmony of our new society, and that's best served by open dialogue and cooperation with every citizen, transfem and cuntgirl alike. This page has been set up to help every citizen understand our our goals, our vision, and how we can help them in their daily lives. With this in mind, we've chosen a selection of officers to introsuce you to, with the goal of showing off just some of what our best and brightest contribute.

Our officers come from all walks of life, and become certified for duty after a 2 year program, with certain roles requiring prior service and longer programs.

We'll start with Officer Wells. Contrary to popular belief, our service is actually majority staffed by cuntgirls, and Wells is one of the brightest. Originally working as a stripper while she made her way through a sociology degree, she took her Peace Officer certification and transferred to the service just over ten years ago. A shining example of how most of our Officers help the public, her patrols consistently help to keep the peace. Sometimes this is in small ways, using her local knowledge to provide directions, recommendations, or access to resources. Sometimes, it means resolving conflicts between cuntgirls or helping to deescalate arguments or fights. It can also mean minor bylaw enforcement, writing tickets for traffic violations, cuntgirls taking advantage of transfem specific services, or other smaller offences.

Next, we have Officer Mads. A newer addition to the service, she joined two years ago hot off her certification. Police in the old world often discriminated against transfems, and so the novelty of bending a 'cop' over, binding her in her own cuffs, and raping her stupid is a popular one. For this reason, Officer Mads is always ready to go, commando, her cuffs proudly on her hip, tazer calibrated to give her a pleasant jolt so that she clamps down around whatever dick is busy violating her holes, and uniform, like most general service uniforms, designed to be practical, yet easily torn. She spends her days patrolling much like any other general officer, but the white stripes on the shoulders of her uniform mark her as a transfem relief specialist. For some transfems, the spontaneity of a street encounter is most appealing, and so she often finds herself pushed against walls or dragged into dark alleys to pay her dues to her betters. For those who prefer a little more roleplay, she may receive a call about a burglary in progress. The nearest TRS will then jump into action, making their way to the 'crime scene' in order to utterly fail to arrest the 'offender'.... or offenders. Her cheaply manufactured uniform provides work for the city's tailors, as it's rare they come back from her patrol intact.

Officer Anderson is retired after an incredible forty years with the service, which means we can tell you about her time as an undercover officer. The right to self expression is valuable for everybody, TERFs included, and so protest and TERF certification are, of course, protected by law. However, they're still required to follow the law in other areas, and so when a TERF group gets out of control, our undercover officers are ready to go. Heavily primed with the knowledge of the latest TERF ideologies, they easily infiltrate even the least trusting TERF circles, reporting back regularly to ensure the law is followed. When the law isn't followed, they're the first step in bringing unruly groups back into line. Some of you may recognize Anderson as the officer in charge of the recent collapse of Juliet Routing's group.

Finally, we come to the lifeblood of the service. Officer Shae has been with the service for almost fifteen years now, her record stellar throughout. The distinctive pink, blue, and white stripes on her shoulder mark her as one of our valuable transfem officers, doling out justice, resolving disputes, and keeping the peace. While violent crime is incredibly rare, when a subject needs to be subdued Officer Shae is ready to go, with over 6 feet of well toned muscle at her disposal. It's worth keeping an eye on this one - judging by her service record, she'll likely be serving as a Captain before too long.

If you're interested in hearing more about our fine officers, please feel free to visit our Contact Us page, or even ask about a ride-along! Serving your community always, the Peace Officers.

[uwmspeccoll]

Decorative Sunday

Today we present all the chapter-head designs from Paraphs by Hermann Püterschein, printed in an edition of 540 copies at the Plimpton Press in Norwood, Connecticut, and published in New York by Alfred A. Knopf in 1928. It was the first (and the only) production of the Publications of the Society of Calligraphers.

The Society was an entirely fictitious organization promulgated by the American book and type designer, and popularizer of the term "graphic design," W. A. Dwiggins (1880-1956). Dwiggins had "founded" the Society in 1919 as a vehicle to promote his ideas about design and to promote himself as a designer of books rather than as the advertising designer with which he began his career. Dwiggins was the secretary of the Society and his alter ego Hermann Püterschein was its president; it had no other official members, although many were in on the ruse.

The Society produced three other publications (not part of the stated "Publications of the Society of Calligraphers") before Paraphs (1919, 1924, 1925), and a plethora of printed ephemera, letterheads, envelopes, documents, certificates, etc., to legitimize its official status. Dwiggins goals appear to have been successful as he soon became sought after by book publishers and type foundries, and Paraphs was the last Society publication.

The chapter-head illustrations for Paraphs are typical Dwiggins designs. Our copy is another donation from the estate of our friend Dennis Bayuzick.

View more posts related to W. A. Dwiggins.

View more Decorative Sunday posts.

[humanrightsupdates]

UK: Court Ruling Threatens Trans People

Judgment Opens Door for Discrimination, Segregation, and Exclusion

(London) – A United Kingdom Supreme Court ruling on April 16, 2025, threatens the rights of trans people, Human Rights Watch said today. In For Women Scotland v. The Scottish Ministers, the court ruled that “sex” in UK law refers to a person’s sex assigned at birth.

The UK has issued gender recognition certificates since 2005, recognizing legal gender changes and enabling people to change documents such as birth certificates and passports. But the court decision, and the UK authorities’ reaction, have undermined the gender recognition certificates. Authorities’ interpretations of the judgment effectively forced trans people to use sex-segregated public services and facilities according to their sex-assigned at birth, and contrary to their identity and appearance. Trans people can also avoid using these services and facilities altogether, or be forced to use segregated facilities, posing risks to their safety and human rights.

“The judgment in For Women Scotland v. The Scottish Ministers is severely regressive,” said Yasmine Ahmed, UK director at Human Rights Watch said. “While implementing this ruling, authorities across the UK should protect trans people’s rights by ensuring that services and facilities remain accessible, inclusive, and safe for everyone.”

The case concerned the Scottish Government’s Gender Recognition Reform Bill, which aimed to simplify the process for individuals to obtain legal recognition of their gender by removing the requirement for a medical diagnosis of “gender dysphoria.” The Supreme Court concluded that the only acceptable legal definition of “sex” is the biological sex assigned to a person at birth, and that no adjustments to that legal designation should be recognized by law, even if the person has a gender recognition certificate. The Supreme Court said that the rights of trans people are separately protected from discrimination under the Equalities Act 2010, regardless of whether they have a gender recognition certificate, but it failed to enumerate how that protection can be effectively implemented.

In effect, the court ruling has led to authorities prohibiting trans people from entering single-sex spaces that align with their gender identity even if they have received official recognition of their gender from the government. The Equality and Human Rights Commission issued guidance on the judgment without adequate consultation, further entrenching the idea that trans people should only be treated according to their sex assigned at birth. The ruling has led to authorities excluding trans people from single-sex spaces that align with their gender identity and treating them in such circumstances as having the gender that corresponds to their assigned sex at birth.

The ruling also comes in the context of an often toxic debate about trans rights in the UK, in which trans people are portrayed as a threat to the safety of others and their views and lived experience are ignored, Human Rights Watch said.

[mariacallous]

It’s a tumultuous time for copyright in the United States, with dozens of potentially economy-shaking AI copyright lawsuits winding through the courts. It’s also the most turbulent moment in the US Copyright Office’s history. Described as “sleepy” in the past, the Copyright Office has taken on new prominence during the AI boom, issuing key rulings about AI and copyright. It also hasn’t had a leader in more than a month.

In May, Copyright Register Shira Perlmutter was abruptly fired by email by the White House’s deputy director of personnel. Perlmutter is now suing the Trump administration, alleging that her firing was invalid; the government maintains that the executive branch has the authority to dismiss her. Despite the firing, Perlmutter still characterizes herself as the Copyright Register. “Despite Mr. Perkins’s claim that he is Acting Register of Copyrights, I remain Register of Copyrights and therefore am required by law to fulfill my above-described statutory obligations,” she said in a declaration in May. But much of her lawsuit centers on how she's been rendered unable to effectively perform the duties of the office.

As the legality of the ouster is debated, the reality within the office is this: There’s effectively nobody in charge. And without a leader actually showing up at work, the Copyright Office is not totally business-as-usual; in fact, there’s debate over whether the copyright certificates it’s issuing could be challenged.

The firing followed a pattern. The USCO is part of the Library of Congress; Perlmutter had been appointed to her role by Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden. A few days before Perlmutter’s dismissal, Hayden, who had been in her role since 2016, was also fired by the White House via email. The White House appointed Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche, who had previously served as President Trump’s defense attorney, as the new acting Librarian of Congress.

Two days after Pelmutter’s firing, Justice Department official Paul Perkins showed up at the Copyright Office, along with his colleague Brian Nieves. According to an affidavit from Perlmutter, they were carrying “printed versions of emails” from Blanche indicating that they had been appointed to new roles within the Copyright Office. Perkins, the email said, was designated as Acting Register of Copyrights. In other words, he was Perlmutter’s replacement.

But was Blanche actually the acting Librarian, and thus able to appoint Perkins as such? Within the Library of Congress, someone else had already assumed the role—Robert Newlen, Hayden’s former second-in-command, who has worked at the LOC since the 1970s. Following Hayden’s ouster, Newlen emailed LOC staff asserting that he was the acting Librarian—never mentioning Blanche—and noting that “Congress is engaged with the White House” on how to proceed.

In her lawsuit, Perlmutter argues that only the Librarian of Congress can fire and appoint a new Register. In a filing on Tuesday, defendants argued that the president does indeed have the authority to fire and appoint the Librarian of Congress and that his appointees then have the ability to choose a new Copyright Register.

Neither the Department of Justice nor the White House responded to requests for comment on this issue; the Library of Congress declined to comment.

Perkins and Nieves did not enter the USCO office or assume the roles they purported to fill the day they showed up. And since they left, sources within the Library of Congress tell WIRED, they have never returned, nor have they assumed any of the duties associated with the roles. These sources say that Congress is in talks with the White House to reach an agreement over these personnel disputes.

A congressional aide familiar with the situation told WIRED that Blanche, Perkins, and Nieves had not shown up for work “because they don’t have jobs to show up to.” The aide continued: “As we’ve always maintained, the President has no authority to appoint them. Robert Newlen has always been the Acting Librarian of Congress.”

If talks are happening, they remain out of public view. But Perlmutter does have some members of Congress openly on her side. “The president has no authority to remove the Register of Copyrights. That power lies solely with the Librarian of Congress. I’m relieved that the situation at the Library and Copyright Office has stabilized following the administration’s unconstitutional attempt to seize control for the executive branch. I look forward to quickly resolving this matter in a bipartisan way,” Senator Alex Padilla tells WIRED in a statement.

In the meantime, the Copyright Office is in the odd position of attempting to carry on as though it wasn’t missing its head. Immediately after Perlmutter’s dismissal, the Copyright Office paused issuing registration certificates “out of an abundance of caution,” according to USCO spokesperson Lisa Berardi Marflak, who says the pause impacted around 20,000 registrations. It resumed activities on May 29 but is now sending out registration certificates with a blank spot where Perlmutter’s signature would ordinarily be.Got a Tip?Are you a current or former government employee who wants to talk about what's happening? We'd like to hear from you. Using a nonwork phone or computer, contact the reporter securely on Signal at Kateknibbs.09.

This unusual change has prompted discussion amongst copyright experts as to whether the registrations are now more vulnerable to legal challenges. The Copyright Office maintains that they are valid: “There is no requirement that the Register’s signature must appear on registration certificates,” says Berardi Marflak.

In a motion related to Perlmutter's lawsuit, though, she alleges that sending out the registrations without a signature opens them up to “challenges in litigation,” something outside copyright experts have also pointed out. “It’s true the law doesn’t explicitly require a signature,” IP lawyer Rachael Dickson says. “However, the law really explicitly says that it's the Register of Copyright determining whether the material submitted for the application is copyrightable subject matter.”

Without anyone acting as Register, Dickson thinks it would be reasonable to argue that the statutory requirements are not being met. “If you take them completely out of the equation, you have a really big problem,” she says. “Litigators who are trying to challenge a copyright registration’s validity will jump on this.”

Perlmutter’s lawyers have argued that leaving the Copyright Office without an active boss will cause dysfunction beyond the registration certificate issue, as the Register performs a variety of tasks, from advising Congress on copyright to recertifying organizations like the Mechanical Licensing Collective, the nonprofit in charge of administering royalties for streaming and download music in the United States. Since the MLC’s certification is up right now, Perlmutter would ordinarily be moving forward with recertifying the organization; as her lawsuit notes, right now, the recertification process is not moving forward.

The MLC may not be as impacted by Perlmutter’s absence as the complaint suggests. A source close to the MLC told WIRED that the organization does indeed need to be recertified but that the law doesn’t require the recertification process to be completed within a specific time frame, so it will be able to continue operating as usual.

Still, there are other ways that the lack of a boss is a clear liability. The Copyright Claims Board, a three-person tribunal that resolves some copyright disputes, needs to replace one of its members this year, as a current board member, who did not reply to a request for comment, is leaving. The job posting is already live and says applications are being reviewed, but as the position is supposed to be appointed by the Librarian of Congress with the guidance of the Copyright Register, it’s unclear how exactly it will be filled. A source familiar at the Library of Congress tells WIRED that Newlen could make the appointment if necessary, but they “expect there to be some kind of greater resolution by then.”

As they wait for the resolution, it remains an especially inopportune time for a headless Copyright Office. Perlmutter was fired just days after the office released a hotly contested report on generative AI training and fair use. That report has already been heavily cited in a new class action lawsuit against AI tools Suno and Udio, even though it was technically a “prepublication” version and not finalized. But everyone looking to see what a final report will say—or what guidance the office will issue next—can only keep waiting.