#it kind of a cop out that

[monsterqueers]

Hey if people are thinking of 'stockpiling HRT' and you are doing it with Testosterone, be aware that is a controlled substance and doing this WILL GET YOU A FELONY CHARGE IF YOU ARE CAUGHT (and it would be very easy for this to happen through the way those posts reccomend).

Its your decision if you want to risk imprisonment (and then definitely losing hrt access), but be aware of the serious consequences- especially if you are recommending this to people!

If you do this with E, you get a slap on the wrist. If you do this with T its a felony. A felony charge deeply effects everything you do. Its not just hard to DYI T, its MANY TIMES LEGALLY RISKIER AND HARDER.

[bedupolker]

So, I'm friends with someone who runs the freezing and storage side of a sperm bank, and she has often complained to me about the drama and flaking and paperwork snafus involved with "known donors", like your mouseworld couple calling in a brother. I don't know if you had any plans to explore that as a complete story, but know that if you do, the soil there is rich.

Honestly everything I know about sperm banks I've learned through sitcoms and I'm intrigued by your friend's stories

[dreamsteddie]

Coming in late on Pack Dynamics day for @stmarchmm

Pack Omega Steve Harrington is so important to me.

Like, he doesn't really have a pack with his family, which is both small and distant, and never formed anything but a preliminary bond with anyone besides Tommy and Carol. He gets really close to pack with Nancy and Johnathan, but its cut off swiftly and abruptly when Nancy dumps him and turns to Johnathan.

Then all of a sudden he's got one pup, and then three, and suddenly he's Pack Omega to seven 10-13 year olds. They raz him and bully him, but they also look up to him and seek him for comfort. They don't always listen to him, but they know that he's always going to keep them safe.

Robin very quickly becomes Steve's alpha in every way but romantic, but she never quite steps into the role of Pack Alpha. She's got a stable pack at home and never feels the need to try and look over the kids in quite the same way Steve does, even if she does love them and look out for them.

When the kids start highschool, suddenly the boys aren't around as much. Max, El, and Erica still spend most weekends and after school at his house in his big living room nest when they don't have their own extracurriculars, but the boys start coming around less and less. The Hellfire Club has scooped them up and taken all their time, and it starts to take its toll on Steve.

He's been left behind and rejected so many times that his body is on a hair-trigger, reacting hard and fast to the slightest hint of abandonment. It starts with a generally lower mood but quickly descends into something bordering in rejection sickness. Every time the boys brush him off for Hellfire or get in his car only to talk on and on about how cool Eddie Munson is and how much they want him to hang out that day, Steve sinks a little deeper.

El, who is also extremely sensitive to pack bonds, pretty much glued herself to Steve's side once he started feeling unwell. Unfortunately, she's very easily influenced by other people's hormones and eventually becomes unwell herself.

Once that happens, it's Hopper who has to step in. He gets Max and Erica to tell him what the hell is going on and Hopper takes that all to mean that it's all actually Eddie Munson's fault. He rolls up to Hawkin's High on Hellfire night in his cruiser, barges in, drags the kids out and squishes them all into the back seat, and then goes back to pull a very confused Eddie out as well.

He makes everyone apologize and make nice, especially Eddie who, again, is so very confused by everything that is happening.

But hey, he's not one to pass up a perfectly good opportunity, and he's always kind of had a thing for Steve. Maybe a very heartfelt, prolonged (like maybe a couple of months) elaborate apology is a good way to start a courting.

[bisclavret]

and people say season 5 is bad

[uncanny-tranny]

It is my sincerest and unironic belief that we must invest in preserving "old technology." The more we move to a hegemonic, easily-surveilled way of living, the worse we will find this world to be.

Letters, public phones and transport, cash, and so much more are key to ensuring both freedom of movement and information, but also to combat the surveillance state. We need to preserve the ability to both access the world but also to be untraceable. I truly hope more people start to recognize this. It isn't about nostalgia for the past. It is about ensuring that we are actually afforded freedom, from the richest person to the person who lives on the sidewalk.

[kacievvbbbb]

Honestly despite my feelings about how the last arc of MHA went down I really love Deku and his story.

I just feel like a lot of the time we get these protagonists whose whole philosophy is it doesn’t matter what you were born as everyone can achieve greatness. But then the series goes on and it turns out that actually it DOES matter because the protagonist has this really great lineage and these really great powers you can only have through birth they were actually born born, predestined if you will, to do this.

But MHA actually sticks to its guns. Midoriya wasn’t revealed to have some great connection to all might that the universe had put in place. He wasn’t defended from some great lineage that makes him uniquely suited to this. Hell All for one didn’t even turn out to be his father, there was no hidden powerful quirk he was always meant to have. He was just Midoriya Izuku a boy who was in the right place at the right time and simply decided to act while the world did nothing. And that’s what really made him a hero.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I believe him a bit more when he goes anybody can be a hero if you just decide to act

[evan-buck]

✨ 2024 in gifs

tagged by @vanmarkus to show my review of the year for gifmaking! thank you for the tag, lovely! 💖

i wasn't as productive as i wanted to be, and the to-do list i'm taking into 2025 is frankly absurd, but given the stuff i've had to deal with to even be able to gif again i'm happy with what i managed to put out! mostly a foray into 911 (for my sins...) but still squeezing every frame out of doctor who series 2, it seems ✨

tagging just a few people and anyone who wants to do it because this took me ages and it's already practically summer or something now 🫶 no pressure tags: @mobius-m-mobius @hexcoreviktor @crowlixcx @cobbbvanth

[a-carnie-and-a-cop]

Travis.exe has stopped working

[brutalitybunny]

i truly love....... pompadours

[valiant-if]

sometimes i wonder if i'm doing too many variables and making an IF that's too big

but then i remember

i can do whatever the hell i want

[pseudophan]

i feel like this goes without saying but just for the record my annual eurovision posting is obviously not happening tomorrow. i was originally going to pirate it and just not post about it at all, but after all the bullshit svt and the ebu have been pulling i don't even want to watch it illegally. fuck all of that bullshit. i will be following the news cause i am very curious to see what's gonna happen, especially because i think israel is very likely to win, which makes sense since unfortunately you can't vote against anyone and MOST anti-israel people are boycotting and so it stands to reason that all the pro-israel assholes will vote as much as they can to make a point about how pro genocide they are.

if you are watching still (illegally i hope! don't give them streams! and don't vote!) you can still send me asks about it but i probably won't post them unless it's specifically anti israel/pro palestine

i delusionally do hope one day we'll be able to watch eurovision again, but as long as israel (and a couple of other countries if we're being real) are in it it's not fucking worth it. and even if they do ban israel, if they don't replace the entire board currently at the ebu, or at least whoever is pushing this bullshit if somehow it's not all of them, i'm out lol. and that sucks so fucking bad because eurovision has been one of my main sources of joy since i was like six years old. but it's not fucking worth it.

[electricpurrs]

really funny that it takes so long for this character to realize theyre not a boy when shes saying shit like this at episode 2

[polling-sonic-fans]

Thanks for the anonymously submitted poll!

Polling Sonic Fans for their opinions on all manner of things. Share good questions to indicate what you want asked. Submissions open.

[sendfnafconfessions]

The glamrock animatronics don't have children's souls in them and are just sentient AI or mimic programs. They can feel.

Facts. Not everyone can have children's souls in them. It's just selfish if all of the fnafs have dead kids in them.

[uncanny-tranny]

Every time you think, "Oh, I don't have [x condition], I'm basically cured!" that is the devil talking. You aren't cured, you are likely going through periods of your symptoms waning. Don't cease whatever you're doing to help yourself, like medication, for instance, because it's likely you still have the conditions or symptoms, even if you aren't noticing them as frequently or severely.

[the-badger-mole]

How the High King of Elfhame Got His Seneschal's Photo

Well, this was a waste of a trip to the mortal world. I leaned against the brick wall of the cafe I'm waiting in front of and bite back an annoyed groan. After all, I knew coming here on the strength of a fourthhand rumor was a long shot. Still, when Randalin told me that he'd heard from his valet who'd heard from the servant of one of the gentry families of the lower courts that there was a rumor of a kidnapping plot against my brother amongst the solitary fae, I thought it best to look into it myself. Now that I know the rumor was just the product of someone's overactive imagination, I wish I had just let one of the spies from the Court of Shadows look into it .

The fact that I probably wouldn't have trusted anyone else with this mission isn't a thought worth acknowledging.

I look down the empty street, expecting the Roach at any moment. Not for the first time, I wish for some way to travel between Faerie and the mortal world without needing to rely on one of the Folk to escort me. I would have asked Vivi if I knew how quickly this little side mission was going to be done. Oh, well.

A dark car pulls to a stop about half a block away from me. I note it absently. After all, I am not waiting on a car. Ten minutes later, I'm starting to get impatient. The Roach had come with his own agenda, I knew, but he had led me to believe that he would be done with his errand long before I was done with mine. I hope he'll show up soon. It was really starting to get cold, and I am not dressed for the weather. I shiver and pull my hoodie closer around me. Maybe, I consider, I should consider making it policy that anyone coming to the mortal realm should carry burner phones so they can stay in touch. Knowing when the Roach would be here would make waiting a little more bearable, at least.

The sound of the car door opening draws me out of my thoughts, and I realize that a man has emerged. Then I realize he's heading in my direction. My hackles go up immediately, though I try to calm myself down. He may not be coming to me. He may just pass me on the way to someplace else.

He does not pass me.

"This isn't a place for loiterers," the man says gruffly. I snort at that.

"If I see any I'll let them know."

"Oh, a joker."

"Only on occasion." The man sneers at me.

He's not dressed the way I picture mortal thugs dressing. He is in a brown leather bomber, but his jeans are clean and crisp, as if he ironed them as flat as he could that morning. Even I know that is unforgivably geeky. On his feet is a pair of shiny black dress shoes. Not boots, or sneakers, like I'd seen on gangsters and evil bikers in movies. The man is also inexplicably wearing a pair of dark mirrored sunglasses, although the sun had very nearly set.

"Why don't you show me your hands?" He phases it like a question, but it sounds like a command. I ignore it and turn my gaze away from him. In my pocket, I turn my fingers against my wrist, feeling the hilt of my dagger there. Let him try me.

"I said show me your hands!" When adding volume to his voice doesn't work, he reaches for me, presumably to force me to obey. The shock on his face when I grab his wrist instead is deeply satisfying. His yelp of pain when I twist it to an unnatural degree is even more so. My dagger stays where it's hidden up my sleeve. I don't need it for him.

Down the street, the car opens again, on the passenger side this time, and another man emerges, running towards me and his friend. Well, a fight will keep me warm, anyway.

"Freeze!" the man shouts. He pulls a gun from his waist and points it at me. Internally I groan as I reluctantly raise my hands over my head. How did I forget about guns?

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"You're where?" Vivi screeches on the other end of the line. I flinch away from the phone receiver and glance around warily, certain that the police officers can hear my sister.

"I'm in jail," I repeat. "I need you to come bail me out." Vivi goes silent and I swear I can hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. Then, to my surprise, she laughs.

"Alright," she says at last. "Give me an hour."

"I've already been here for three!" I complain.

"Tough!" Vivi cackles. "I have to drop Oak off at a party, and I need get a card for the birthday boy first. You'll be alright. And if you get a prison tattoo, make sure it's a cool one."

"Viv!"

"I'll see you soon." Vivi is still laughing as she hangs up. I have to choke back a growl of frustration as I slam the receiver back onto the cradle.

"Finished?" the deputy who'd escorted me from my cell to make my one phone call.

"Finished," I sigh. A few moments later, the iron bars slam shut behind me. I am not alone in the cell, but the woman on the top bunk is in deep slumber, if her bone rattling snores are anything to go by. Then the smell of her hits me. This must be the drunk tank, I realize. With a huff, I sit on the bottom bunk and wait.

And I wait.

And wait.

One hour passes without Vivi showing up. Then two. At two and a half hours, I get up and pace the floor. Surely they'd give me another call, I think. But then, who else would I call besides Vivi? It was almost a miracle that I remembered her phone number. I never even tried to memorize Heather's. Besides, even if I had, Heather was probably with Vivi, or stuck at home. They only had one car between them.

Finally, as the clock was about to mark the third hour since I'd called my sister, I hear a commotion outside of the cell block.

"What do you mean I can't see my sister? I am here to bail her out. I have the cash right here!" Vivi's voice carries back to me, and I almost cheer in relief.

"Vivi!" I call.

"We're here, Jude!" Vivi yells back. Then her voice goes low. I can tell she's talking to someone, and finally they seem to come to an agreement. Then they are headed in my direction. Vivi appears behind the sheriff and she is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. I'm so happy to see her that I don't see who's with her for a moment. It's not Heather who is standing behind her. It's Cardan.

Seeing him here, in the mortal realm- in a mortal police station of all places is so jarring, I can only stare for a moment. Especially since he's in a ridiculous red silk shirt with pearls at the cuffs and collar. Then I turn back to Vivi.

"Por que lo trajiste?" I demand in harsh whisper.

"Llegó a mi puerta y no me dejaria salir sin él." Vivi shrugs. "It was faster to bring him."

"That doesn't sound like you're grateful to see me," Cardan says, raising his brow.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I'm not angry. I'm too confused for anger, and I guess he sees that in my face, because he's not nearly so defensive when he answers.

"The Roach came rushing back to the palace raving that you'd been kidnapped," Cardan said. He eyed my cell distastefully, keeping well away from the iron bars. I have to force myself not to shrink in embarrassment. "And here you are indeed being kept captive for ransom. It wouldn't be very gallant of me to leave my seneschal imprisoned."

"Estaba furioso," Vivi tells me with an amused glance at him. "Tengo preguntas para ti luego. A lot!"

"Hey, pal," the sheriff cuts in. "Bail ain't ransom. She was arrested, not kidnapped." Vivi shakes her head, ignoring both men.

"Jail, Jude?" she sighs. "Que hiciste, hermanita?"

"Nothing!" I hiss back. "No hice nada. Es solo que él tiene una lasca en su hombro!" I jerk my chin towards the sheriff without looking at him.

"Little lady, assaulting an officer is not a little chip on my shoulder," the sheriff says. Vivi and I fall silent and stare at him. He shoots us a smug smirk. "Yeah, I speak Spanish, too." Behind him, I see Cardan is also smirking. His brows go up in amusement.

Little lady? he mouths silently. I scowl and shake my head at him. No. He will absolutely not make that a thing. I am not above ordering it so.

"You assaulted an officer?" Vivi is doing her best to sound disapproving, but she is barely keeping the grin off of her face, or the laugh from her voice.

"I didn't know he was an officer," I explain for for feels like the ten thousandth time tonight. "Some guy approaches me and starts making vague threats and I'm just not supposed to defend myself? He wasn't in uniform. He didn't even show me a badge!" At that, Vivi whirls on the sheriff, all amusement gone from her face.

"He didn't even identify himself?" she almost yells.

"W-well, h-he...he was only trying to warn her not to loiter," the sheriff stammered. "That block has had some issues with vandals recently, so plain clothes cops patrol there."

"I wasn't loitering. I was waiting for my ride." I press myself to the bars and glare daggers at the sheriff. "Then this random guy comes over and starts demanding to see my hands. I wasn't vandalizing anything! Tell me where that falls under protect and serve."

"Let my sister out!" Vivi demands. "Whatever your officer got was well deserved, it sounds like."

"It sounds like he got off lightly." Cardan's voice is deceptively airy. There's a coldness in his eyes that I know from experience means nothing good for the sheriff.

"I already told you, I can't let her go," the sheriff huffs. "Assaulting an officer is a felony, and a judge will need to set bail. She's in there until Monday." My jaw drops in shock. It's Friday. He expects me to stay in this disgusting cell for two days? Before I can protest, Cardan speaks again. This time when he speaks, the anger is tinged with glamour.

"I believe you'll find that you can let her go tonight," he says.

"I...I can let her go..." The sheriff's voice is distant, as if he's talking in his sleep. "Yes...I...I can let her go tonight. Just be sure to show up to your hearing on Monday."

"There won't be a hearing on Monday," Vivi says, her voice taking the same ineffable quality that Cardan's had. It was always strange watching the Folk glamour mortals from this end. Normally, I'm not a fan, especially of my sister doing it. But I cannot spend the weekend in a jail cell.

"Ri-ight," the sheriff agrees. He goes quiet for a moment and I suppose it's during this time that his brain supplies a good reason for letting me leave. He blinks his eyes rapidly, as if waking, and he shakes his head. Then he unlocks the cell and holds it open for me. "You're free to go."

"Wait, he still has my dagger," I say as I step hurriedly out of the cell. The sheriff closes it slowly behind me and stares at my cellmate thougthfully. She had been snoring loudly through this entire exchange.

"By all means let us retrieve it," Cardan drawls. "We all know how naked you feel without a weapon." Vivi rolls her eyes and enchants the sheriff again. A few minutes later, he's brought my sheathed dagger out from the evidence locker, and thrown away the plastic baggie it had been stored in. I wonder if he will get in trouble for this, then I decide that I don't care. I shouldn't have been arrested in the first place.

"Hey buddy," the sheriff calls Cardan aside. His brow goes up. At the informality of the address, I suppose. Still, he's intrigued enough to move closer. Whatever glamour Cardan had put on the sheriff seems to have left him with the impression that he and the High King were friends. He grinned mischievously at Cardan and hands him a manila envelope. "I figured you'd want a souvenir of your girlfriend's time as a felon."

"I'm not his girlfriend," I huff rolling my eyes. Cardan accepts the envelope nonetheless. I'm too tired to care, though. It must be near dawn, and all I want is to go home and sleep.

"What did he give you?" Vivi asks as we make our way to her and Heather's car. Cardan opens the envelope and pulls out a glossy picture. It's my mug shot. A flash of hot rage rolls through me, and I have half a mind to go back inside and show the snarky sheriff what assault with a deadly weapon truly looked like.

"I need ten copies of that!" Vivi howls with laughter. "I'm sending this to everyone!"

"No you're not!" I say, snatching the picture out of Cardan's hand and stuffing it in my pocket. "We are never talking about this again."

"Oh, honey," Vivi laughs again, throwing her arm around my shoulder. "You know that's not true." I grumble something vaguely threatening as I climb into the backseat of the car, but I know she's right. At least the photo evidence will soon be gone. I plan on burning my mugshot as soon as I can.

Later, in my rooms at the palace, I intend to do just that. Only when I check the pocket of my hoodie, it's gone. It must have fallen out in the car.

-:-:-:-:-:-

In his room, Cardan pulls out the photograph the sheriff had given him, and smooths it out. It's not very wrinkled, despite having been shoved unceremoniously into Jude's pocket. The woman herself stares up at him, holding a black placard with Duarte written in white block letters and a series of numbers beneath that. Loose strands of hair had fallen from her simple braid to frame her face, and she looks like she'd just been through a battle. Cardan supposes that wasn't far from the truth. Despite her apparent disarray at the time of her arrest, she manages to somehow look both imperious and sullen at the same time. Cardan grins at the image, knowing that Jude might actually kill him if she knew he had it.

Some months later, when she is in the middle of carving a space for herself in his room (their room, he corrects himself), Cardan is proven right.

"Are you serious?" she demands, snatching the framed photo from among his things on the dresser. Her eyes are alight with anger when she rounds on him. Cardan only chuckles in reply.

"Well, I could hardly commission an official portrait of you without drawing some uncomfortable questions," he tells her. "Besides, I don't think any painter in Faerie or the mortal world could capture your essence quite as succinctly as this."

"Get rid of it!" Jude orders him. His wife didn't need any magical binds to get Cardan to do whatever she wanted. He would swim the entire ocean to bring her the fruit of the trees that grew in the Court of Teeth if she wanted. But in this, he would have to insist on his own way. He crosses the room and gently pulls the picture from his wife's resisting hands.

"I would sooner throw my crown in a tar pit," he tells her. At her indignant shriek, he laughs again and kisses her forehead. The novelty of having the privilege to do so hadn't yet lost it's luster, and Cardan suspected it would be a very, very long time before it did. "Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you're angry?"

"I thought I was terrifying," Jude says, crossing her arms and scowling at him. Cardan shrugs.

"Who said you couldn't be both?" He smirks at her as he goes in for the final blow, "My little lady."

Now there's a part 2