#and Crawford for that matter

[divinetheatre]

something something jack saying “i don’t claim to know anyone” versus jack saying “will will come back to himself. he always does,” and “will is genuine,” and jack taking will back right away in yakimono, and jack letting will run the honeypot scheme, and jack following will to italy, jack saying, “i’m here for will" and jack trusting will with the red dragon, with hannibal….. jack believing in the inherent good of will's heart despite everything…. something something he thought that if he could save will, then he could save himself from losing hope in the world

[porcelainvino]

why are people so embarrassed to like glee characters we need to EMBRACE THE CRINGE

[petervintonjr]

"'The day a white man hits me is the day I die," my great-great-grandfather stated early in life. And he did." --Doria Dee Johnson, great-great granddaughter of Anthony Crawford

(This one's gonna go hard, folks.)

On October 21, 1916 in Abbeville, South Carolina, a white mob surrounded, then beat, stabbed, shot, and finally hanged Anthony P. Crawford; a successful Black entrepreneur and farmer. His "crime?" Having the gall to dispute with a white storeowner over the price of cottonseed. Crawford did not fit the stereotype of the poor and easily-intimidated Negro; quite the contrary --he was easily one of the wealthiest and most influential members of the community. Besides raising 13 children with his wife Tebby, among his other accomplishments were his standing in the local Chapel AME church and the ownership of 427 acres of land --easily 10% of all land owned by Negroes in the county-- and was solvent enough to be able to loan money to other farmers between harvests... even the white ones. Not a bad upcoming for a man who'd been born enslaved in 1865.

Word of this crime spread further and to greater public effect, than (sadly) many other lynchings like it --Anthony's status as a wealthy and successful member of the community ensured that even then-governor Richard Manning demanded answers from the local sheriff. There was considerable press interest and the NAACP even sent attorney Roy Nash to investigate, but ultimately to no avail. While there was a preliminary trial hearing, a grand jury failed to indict any of the mob, and most of the Crawford family --and in fact most Black people-- fled Abbeville after blatant intimidation by many of the town's white population. (Among this mass exodus were Lewis Alfred Ellison, father of future author Ralph Waldo Ellison --see Lesson #10 in this series.) Scattered, the family would eventually rediscover one another generations later (mostly by way of the aforementioned AME church), and in 2016 Crawford's descendants solemnly dedicated a historical marker in remembrance of their brutally murdered patriarch.

(Yeah, anyone still hazy on the origins of The Great Migration?)

Anyway --my summary isn't properly honoring the man and his family; please take some time to read a much more detailed and personal account by Doria Dee Johnson, Anthony's great-great-granddaughter.

[aspocko]

love the idea that jerott's loss of faith came from his understanding that a loving and just god would never allow something as annoying as francis crawford of lymond to exist.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

people hate on jack because he's the only one who remains steadfast and unchanged by hannibal's influence

[michaelvarrati]

From Baby Jane to Auntie Roo and beyond! This week, Peaches and Michael unveil a special episode dissecting one of horror’s most “Sainted Subgenres” – HAGSPLOITATION (aka “Psycho Biddies”)! In addition to discussing the many luminous women who brought these movies to life, our hosts tackle the oft problematic labeling of this particular avenue of fright. Joining the conversation is award-winning historian/author/host David Del Valle, who provides insight and personal stories about the era of Hollywood that birthed these films. Additionally, David digs into why these deliciously devilish dames connect with a whole generation of queer folks. Bette! Joan! Olivia! Oh my! This episode has it all! Go! 

[chriss-club]

PREMA BOYS STAY 🔛🔝

[thymelessink]

I've been playing around with skin colouring again. So here is one handsome asshole.

[fatedxdestiny]

[grapecaseschoices]

Hi! For the OC love asks, maybe 10 & 12 for the characters of your choice?

10. Does your OC have a type? Have they ever been surprised by their feelings for someone who doesn't fit this?

Emile: Power. No.

LOL. In all seriousness, Emile has a preference with people with ambition, clear sights, and money ... would you believe they're my in love with love Keeper? rofl.

Irving: I don't think he does, or at least he doesn't feel he does. I think he gravitates toward kind people. Yet for some reason he gravitated toward Thalia and Leon, beats me. As long as the person isn't like cruel, I don't think he does get surprised. It's sorta just ... is. He might have a moment of 'oh, wow!' if it is brought to his attention, I feel.

12. If your OC were in love, how might they recognise this? Or would they be too much in denial?

Emile: I think it when they start feeling certain about this person at their side? Maybe seeing the future together? That's why they had a ring in their hand despite their 😠expression. Maybe it was meant to be but when I was writing this 'Nonsense' by Sabrina Carpenter started playing. I think feeling giddiness around this person, them feeling like this trust this person and LOOKS FORWARD to spend time with them ... oh, and murder. I almost Emile would contemplate murder for their loved ones.

And they don't deny this. I feel it might be even close to say they embrace this, or as much as a teenager does.

I'm not sure about my others, I don't quite remember at any rate. At least how they might recognize this. But I will say:

Irving: Kind of recognized it later on, I don't think he is quite there yet. I don't feel he would be in denial if circumstances were normal, but a lot is going on.

Nicola: Nicola isn't has straightforward about it as Emile nor, if I remember correctly, as quick as the uptake. But there is no denial there. Though, I wonder in part bc Yakov is running away from it and it is hard to look away from a dude who would fuck shit up for you. /shrug

Kendis: ... is Kendis, lmao. Kotsam!Kendis Isn't looking to define what this 'love' is -- both d/t nature of themself and by nature of Cyrus. I think Kendis is more ready a nd open to admitting to themselves that they're in love than the typical Kendis.

a short ask list about love

[krisb5431]

My dear friends, I am Heba from Gaza, a mother of three children. Two months ago, my husband left me and traveled away, and before we could feel safe, war broke out and our home was destroyed, leaving me and my children without a provider. Now, we are living in refugee camps and facing harsh and difficult conditions. My children have developed chronic skin diseases that require immediate care and treatment, and as you know, the situation here is extremely difficult. We are in urgent need of your help to provide the necessary medications and basic food supplies. Words cannot express the fear and anxiety I feel and how it is affecting my children in these circumstances. I also aspire to reunite them with their father, so they can be by his side and feel safe and secure. If you can help us, I would be very grateful, as any support can make a difference in our lives. Thank you for your concern and support during these challenging times.♥️

. ✨Verified by: @beesandwatermelons ✅ and @gazavetters ✅ (#125) My Gofundme link https://gofund.me/3ebf0c0f

Spreading the word! 💓

[cece693]

May I pretty please request Hannigram with an SO that really likes biting things? Like they’ll just nibble on anything available, including themself or Hanni/Will

male reader if possible :)

Bite Me, Darling

pairing: hannibal lecter and will graham x male reader tags: self soothing mechanism, male reader bites things, Alana bashing, jack Crawford bashing, just everyone in general is against this relationship, innocent male reader, hannibal and will want to keep him this way

It was strange, how everything about him was normal on the surface but wildly unique beneath. The way he moved through life, unaware of the way people stared, was something that only a few people truly understood. Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, for all their intelligence and their capacity for manipulation, had each found something in him—something pure and raw—that spoke to them in ways they couldn’t articulate.

You were innocent in the most innocent way. You didn’t know how to read people’s intentions, how to navigate the murky waters of deceit and pain that others swam in. You were a creature of quiet habits: chewing on pens, biting the corner of your sleeves, even nibbling your fingers. It wasn’t that you was anxious, but rather that this was your way of processing the world. You didn’t speak much, but when you did, it was with a tenderness that could disarm even the most hardened individuals.

For some, this made you seem almost too innocent for the likes of Will and Hannibal. They were two men who dealt with darkness constantly, who played in shadows. Hannibal, the brilliant psychiatrist with an appetite for blood, had found himself intrigued long before anything happened between them. How did such a pure soul even come to be? How was it that someone as complex as Hannibal could be pulled into a world where biting things wasn’t just a habit—it was part of who you were?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Hannibal was nothing if not a man who craved complexity, and you, with your simple yet peculiar habit of biting, had an allure that he could never fully comprehend. He wasn’t sure when the lines had blurred, when you had shifted from being someone he wanted to understand to someone he wanted to possess.

Will, on the other hand, was less of a mystery. He found your unspoken understanding of him soothing. Will was not a man who found comfort easily. He’d had too many years of running from his own mind, of balancing between the need for human connection and the heavy weight of his empathic gifts. But you were different. You never demanded anything from him. There was no need to over explain; no fear of rejection. You were there, and that was enough.

The three of them had fallen into a relationship that no one, especially not Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, could understand. Jack, upset that you had a greater control over his 'asset' perceived you as a problem that needed to be extinguished immediately. While he couldn't force Will to break up with you, he began to use manipulative language more frequently, hinting that his absence was endangering the lives of people. But after a while, his words began to lose power.

"Will, you can’t just leave because he told you to," Jack would say, his voice thick with frustration. "We need you to solve this case. You're part of this team." But Will, unmoved, always told him he was tired and needed a break—as if killers would respect that and stop murdering until he felt better. Jack would then begin to retort how soft Will was becoming, as if that ever mattered when others perceived him as a madman.

Alana, on the other hand, was driven by something more personal. Jealousy. She had been drawn to both Hannibal and Will. Her feelings for them had never been simple or easy, but she had always harbored a belief that somehow, one day, they would choose her. Instead, they had chosen you. The idea of you, with your gentle biting habit, managing to capture the attention of both men—of all people—was enough to make her skin crawl with resentment. How could someone so abnormal and clearly dealing with childhood trauma have the audacity to step into their world and steal both her love interests?

She couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t deserve them. You weren't like her—you didn’t understand the complexities of their lives nor seemed to be able to handle the hurdles that came with it. And so, she set to work.

It started subtly. A conversation here, a comment there.

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re a little strange?” she would ask, voice light, as if it were a passing thought. “I mean, the biting…it's something you can't help, but don't you ever want to stop it? Be seen as normal for once in your life?"

At first, you had laughed it off, thinking nothing of it. But over time, the seeds of doubt were planted. You began to wonder. Was your habit of biting things wrong? Your lovers had never raised concerns, but it would be something they'll definitely keep private, perhaps a secret only shared between Hannibal and Will. You never thought that Alana's words were connived to break your relationship apart, your naivety something the woman had taken into account and used to her advantage.

So, you tried to stop.

You started small: you tucked your hands into your sleeves when your instincts told you to gnaw at the fabric, and you opted for straws instead of biting the rim of a glass cup. You made an effort—any effort—to keep your teeth away from Will and Hannibal’s skin, no matter how comforting that gentle pressure felt against them. At first, neither man noticed; after all, it was easy to dismiss as a passing mood or an unremarkable change in routine.

But after a couple of days, small signs alerted both of them to the shift. Will began to see you catch yourself mid-motion, your hand halfway to your mouth before you stopped and pressed it flat against your chest instead. Hannibal noticed the anxious flicker in your eyes whenever you realized you were about to bite down on your sleeve—or worse, on him—and yanked yourself away.

It was Will who first chose to address it. One evening, you were curled up in his living room, dogs scattered around you like living blankets. The space was quiet, the only sound the gentle snoring of a dog and the low hum of the overhead light. You were running your thumb over your bottom lip—an almost-bite—when Will finally spoke.

“Hey,” he said softly, “what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He studied you with those empathetic eyes of his. You knew he was reading more into your silence, but Will was nothing if not patient. “You’ve been distant,” he finally ventured, words slow and careful. “I don’t mind if you need space, but if something’s bothering you, I want to help.”

The sincerity in his voice tore at your heart. You wanted to confide in him, to say Alana made me feel wrong, and I don’t want to be wrong for you, but the fear of seeming weak or needy held you back. You simply shook your head and offered a reassuring pat to one of the dogs resting on your lap. “I’m fine,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t push. “Just tired.”

Hannibal discovered your change in behavior under more intimate circumstances. The two of you were alone in his kitchen, the scent of simmering stock filling the air. He had taken your hand to guide you closer to the cutting board, demonstrating a particular technique for slicing vegetables. Normally, a casual closeness like this was an invitation for you to lean in, maybe press your teeth gently against the back of his hand or the curve of his arm—just enough to ground yourself in his presence. This time, you didn't lean in nor brought his hand to your lips.

Hannibal stilled, eyebrows lifting in polite surprise. “Darling,” he asked softly, “what’s wrong?”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. You swallowed hard. “Just didn’t want to hurt you,” you offered lamely, though you both knew you had never caused him pain before. His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he released your hand without comment. You wondered if your face betrayed the unease you felt, because Hannibal’s expression shifted into something gentler, concerned. But he chose not to press you then and there. Instead, he simply carried on, instructing you gently with the knife work and occasionally brushing a reassuring hand across your back.

Though both men tried to give you space, their combined worry spilled over as time went on. Neither was used to seeing you so guarded, especially around them. On a chilly afternoon, the three of you gathered in Hannibal’s study—a routine that had become something of a tradition. Will sipped his whiskey quietly while Hannibal and you browsed through his impressive collection of classical music. There was a soothing air of comfort, and for a brief moment, your doubts dimmed.

But of course, it was Will who noticed your jaw moving—saw the slight shift as your teeth worked the soft flesh inside your cheek. He placed his whiskey glass down on the table with a muted clink before pushing himself out of the chair.

“Stop,” he murmured, crossing the room with purpose. His voice was gentle but firm as he stepped close to you. Without hesitating, he brought his hand to your chin, his touch warm yet insistent. “Open your mouth.”

You stiffened, instinctively pulling away. You shook your head, trying to avert your gaze from Will’s intense blue eyes. You didn’t want to show him. You didn’t want him to see the damage you’d done to keep from biting them instead.

But then, Hannibal appeared at Will’s side, his presence commanding. He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave you—equal parts concern and disappointment—made your shoulders slump in silent surrender. Unable to deny the weight of their worry, you parted your lips, letting Will tilt your chin just enough so both he and Hannibal could peer inside.

A faint gasp escaped Will as he saw the small puncture in your cheek, the fresh bead of crimson welling against your lower molars. Hannibal’s lips flattened into a thin line, and a flicker of displeasure darkened his gaze. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small wound, but it spoke volumes to them—volumes about how you had been coping alone.

Hannibal’s voice was low, edged with concern. “You’ve been hurting yourself to avoid biting us.” It wasn’t a question; it was a quiet statement of fact.

Will let go of your chin carefully. “Why?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

You swallowed thickly, your hand hovering near your mouth in a subconscious attempt to hide the injury you’d just revealed. “Alana said it’s weird. The biting,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

A stretch of silence followed your confession, Hannibal and Will exchanged a look—a silent conversation filled with understanding and mild anger toward Alana’s interference. Will’s gaze softened as he turned back to you. “We told you before,” he reminded you gently, “you don’t have to hide this from us. You’re not hurting us—”

“—nor inconveniencing us,” Hannibal interrupted, stepping closer again. The resolute calm in his eyes steadied you. “In fact, we’ve grown quite accustomed to it, and dare I say, fond of it. Your habit is part of who you are.”

You glanced down, feeling the sting of tears threatening in your eyes. “I just…I didn’t want you to get sick of me, or to think I was some sort of burden.”

Will’s hand found yours, his fingers threading through with a gentle squeeze. “That’s not possible,” he murmured. “We miss it…miss you being comfortable around us.”

Hannibal placed a hand against your cheek, being mindful of your tender injury. “You never need to hurt yourself on our behalf,” he said, voice quiet but unyielding. “Any pain you feel—physical or otherwise—we’d much rather help you carry it, not watch you bury it inside.”

At those words, a sharp wave of relief pulsed through you, along with an ache of regret for having doubted them. You inhaled shakily, letting yourself lean just a fraction closer to Hannibal’s touch, feeling the stability it offered. Will eased his other hand around your waist, tugging you gently in his direction. Sandwiched between them, you could almost believe nothing else mattered.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. “I…I’ll try not to hide it anymore.”

Will’s lips quirked into a small, comforting smile. “No more chewing on your cheek,” he said, voice warm with affection. “You’ll let us help, right?”

With a hesitant nod, you felt Hannibal’s hand slide from your cheek to the back of your head, urging you closer until your forehead rested against his shoulder. He cast a glance at Will, who leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Despite the swirl of emotions, you felt a gentle calm in their presence—a sense of being anchored.

[batboyblog]

April 1st is Election Day

Are you feeling sick, depressed, angry, outraged and all the other bad feelings about Donald Trump and Elon Musk this March? WELL FUCKO! its time to get to work, the first major test of the resistance to Trump-Musk is this April first! two special elections to the US House in Florida and a Supreme Court election in Wisconsin.

Florida's 1st and 6th Congressional Districts are having special elections on April 1st.

Right now the House of Representatives is 218 Republicans to 215 Democrats, flip these two seats, its 218-217, one vote away from being able to hold Trump and Musk accountable, and there are lots of Republican Congresspeople in their 70s and 80s.

The First Congressional District used to be well know sex criminal Matt Gaetz' district till he resigned hoping that'd mean The House wouldn't release a report on all his sex crimes, but the House released it anyways and Matt didn't get to be Trump's Attorney General. Any ways Trump endorsed Republican Jimmy Patronis, an ally of Ron DeSantis, which pretty much closed the Republican primary.

The Democrat is named Gay Valimont where ever you live in the US you can phone bank, if you live in Florida, or southern Georgia, Alabama, or Mississippi PLEASE! for the love of GOD! find time this month, one weekend to knock doors, and if you have a spare dollar, maybe don't buy something off Amazon? give it to the cause?

Give Volunteer Events

The Sixth Congressional District used to be Michael Waltz' seat till he resigned to be Trump's National Security Adviser, you know that gross bullying of Ukraine's President Zelensky? Waltz was definitely a part of planning that little show.

Any ways Trump endorsed well known lunatic Randy Fine to be the Republican nominee. Fine's not even in Congress and he's already threatening Democratic members he doesn't like.

The Democratic nominee is teacher Joshua Weil You can phone bank from anywhere and like I said if you live in Florida or southern Georgia please please give of your time and knock some doors. If you have a dollar to spare it'll go a long way.

Give Volunteer/Events

These will both be up hill fights, they are normally very safe Republican seats. However, these are not normal times, Musk and his DOGE are about as popular with the public as an untreated STI. Musk is firing veterans, and military spouses from their jobs, cutting back the VA, and Social Security, firing park rangers, air traffic controllers, nuclear weapon experts, civilian workers from the Defense department, Trump is purging the FBI and other law enforcement agencies. These are all things traditional Republican voters do not like. So you (and I) all have a chance to tell them all about it. No matter what happens on April 1st I don't want a single Florida voter to not know about these elections and how important they are.

Wisconsin!

Every bit as important as the special elections in Florida and maybe more so for the people of Wisconsin, Wisconsin is having an election for a Supreme Court Justice. The Wisconsin Supreme Court is right now 4-3 liberal to conservative. Liberal Justice Ann Walsh Bradley is retiring and the election will elect her replacement for a 10 year term.

Right now a case is before the Wisconsin Supreme Court to decide if the state should ban abortions under an 1849 law. If Conservatives flip this seat they will ban abortion in the state

The Conservative candidate Brad Schimel has made clear in very sexist language that banning abortion is a top issue for him. What's more Schimel is endorsed by Elon Musk. Musk is pouring MILLIONS of dollars into this race, it's the most expensive Judicial race in Wisconsin History thanks to Elon Musk and likely one of the most expensive judicial elections in American history. This is your chance to go head to head with Elon Musk and kick his ass.

The Liberal in the race, Susan Crawford, is endorsed by all the liberals on the court, the Wisconsin Democratic Party, and dozens of unions including the teacher's union. She's promising to keep abortion legal and to stand up to oligarchs like Musk.

If you live anywhere in Wisconsin this election is about you and your future and the next 10 years of your state, please volunteer. All of us can phone bank or postcard write from anywhere, And if you're in Minnesota, Illinois, Iowa, or Michigan's UP and you want to make Musk sad? find a weekend this month to go to Wisconsin and knock some doors.

Give Volunteer Events

Where ever you are you can and should make a difference, even if it's just to share this post to help it reach someone else. Its time to stop feeling bad and start fighting back.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Starting a reread of Pride and Prejudice and keeping an eye out for some things that have been mentioned by the Austen fandom:

1) The Bennets do not seem so notably wealthy – by gentry standards – as has been suggested by parts of the fandom, nor does Mr. Bennet in particular seem so blameable in not having saved a more substantial inheritance for his daughters.

The Bennets have two thousand a year for 7 people. This is, IIRC, a little over twice per person what the Dashwoods have in Sense & Sensibility (500 pounds a year for four people), and the Dashwoods are very much at the low end of the gentry. It’s about half what is considered a notably rich member of the gentry in this book or others (five thousand a year, like Mr. Bingley has, or four thousand a year which is, I think, what Henry Crawford has).

Also, it seems like Mr. Bennet is impeded in his management of the estate by Mrs. Bennet, from this line from Mr. Bennet (when Mrs. Bennet is urging him to use the pretext of the horses being needed for the farm to not send Jane to Netherfield in the carriage, so she will be obliged to stay overnight if it rains): “They [the horses] are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.” Combined with the early narratorial statement that the solace of Mrs. Bennet’s life is “visiting and news”, this suggests conflicts between her using the horses for visiting purposes and the needs of the horses for the farm. (Though I wouldn’t have expected carriage-horses to overlap with farm work much.)

Mr. Bennet feels less like someone who is by inclination negligent, and more like someone who has, over 20+ years, grown tired of re-fighting the same battles over and over with his wife (who is incapable of absorbing any idea that is counter to her own inclinations), and largely given up. He baits his wife, but he does do some necessary things promptly: after insisting to his wife that he will not visit Mr. Bingley, he is in fact “among the earliest” to do so.

I see Mr. Bennet not as an unsympathetic character, but as the “failure state” of both Elizabeth and, in a lesser way, Darcy: this is who you become if you have no one close to you whom you respect as a peer. (Darcy wouldn’t be as openly mocking, but his interactions with Miss Bingley when Elizabeth is at Netherfield – brief and curt – give a flavour of what he’s like around someone he’s close to who is bothering him.) Elizabeth likes her father; he visits her regularly after her marriage and there’s no indication either her or Darcy mind; but his life isn’t the future we want for Elizabeth. Nor is it the future he wants for Elizabeth, as we see with his response to both Mr. Collins’ proposal and Elizabeth’s telling him of her engagement to Darcy.

2) I’m noticing the connections between Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s early conversations more this time. For example, on one evening at Netherfield they debate whether a plable temper (Bingley’s) isca good bad thing, with Elizabeth saying that being easily convinced by your friends of matters of no great import, based on your affection for them, is amiable. In a later conversation at Netherfield, Darcy says (in comment on his non-mockable faults): “My temper I dare not vouch for. – It is I believe too little yielding – certainly too little for the convenience of the world…My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them.” This feels like a response to what Elizabeth was saying earlier, meaning their conversation (in contrast to Miss Bingley’s mix of flattering him and twitting him about Elizabeth, it is one where he’s being argued with; he seems to prefer that) has stuck in his head.

On a funnier note, the earlier conversation had Darcy condemning humblebrags (“Nothing is more deceitful than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast”), but I suspect that he’s engaging in it here, and actually prides himself on his resoluteness.

3) While Miss Bingley isn’t a villainness, she’s certainly an unpleasant person. She’s mean, she’s two-faced (mocking her “friend’s” relatives behind her back while her “friend” is sick, though being usually kind and courteous to her face), and she doesn’t have enough sense or perception to pick up on when her flattery towards Darcy and her insults towards Elizabeth are annoying Darcy.

4) Elizabeth gives very little indication of being a bookworm (nor a tomboy), in contrast to some characterizations. Even in the scene where her reading is mentioned, she is in fact largely ignoring the book in favour of paying attention to the conversation at the card table; she picked up the book more out of prudence (the card game is gambling and she guesses they are betting too much for her means) than intrinsic interest. In two other scenes at Netherfield – during the few times she is not tending to Jane – she is doing needlework. Her muddy walk to Netherfield is inspired by affection for Jane and desire not to use the carriage needlessly, not by a love of muddy walks.

5) Despite some posts I’ve seen on use of Lizzy vs Eliza as nicknames for Elizabeth Bennet (Lizzie is more common), both Charlotte Lucas and Miss Bingley do refer to her as Eliza at some points.

[todays-xkcd]

Once he had the answer, Arrhenius complained to his friends that he'd "wasted over a full year" doing tedious calculations by hand about "so trifling a matter" as hypothetical CO2 concentrations in far-off eras (quoted in Crawford, 1997).

Greenhouse Effect [Explained]

Transcript

[At the top of the comic a timeline is shown as a long line. It has three dots, one at each end a bit inside the end of the line and one close to the middle Each dot has a gray curved line going up to it from below. Below the end of these lines a year is given. And beneath the year is a caption. Above the time line are two gray double arrows going from three gray lines above each of the three dots. The lines are broken in the middle where a label is written.]

[Label of arrow that spans from first to second dot:] 120 years

[Label of arrow that spans from second to third dot:] 128 years

[Label for the first dot:] 1776 James Watt develops a steam engine that helps kick off the Industrial Revolution

[Label for the second dot:] 1896 Arvid Högbom and Svante Arrhenius note that industrial activity is adding CO2 to the atmosphere, and calculate how much the Earth will heat up if the CO2 concentration doubles. Their answer closely matches modern estimates.

[Label for the third dot:] 2024 Today

[Caption below the panel:] We figured out the greenhouse effect closer to the start of the Industrial Revolution than to today.

[dolicekiss]

Yandere Will Graham Headcanon

PAIRING: Yandere!Will Graham x reader

CONTENT WARNING: Noncon (not in detail), dark Will Graham, yandere behavior, manipulation, coercion, obsessed Will, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, trauma, kidnapping, abuse, murder, guilt tripping, forced impregnating.

He first laid his gaze on you when he found you cooped up in the corner of a house, a victim of utmost violence by the hands of an unstable woman who thought she was only protecting you from evil — a mother who'd lost her child so she went on a rampage to kidnap girls and forcefully mother them.

Will Graham had saved multiple girls from the clutches of that woman but you — you had caught his attention.

Late at night, he often found himself thinking about you. How your hair hovered over your face, the sheer terror in your eyes. You were the most abused and hurt victim of that woman. It left a scar on you.

His visits at the hospital you were admitted grew more upon finding out from Jack Crawford that you were an orphan.

Bringing you food, taking care of you, even reading books to bring ease to you and sleeping on the couch across your bed.

Slowly and surely, he found his way underneath your layers and coaxed you into depending on him. Grooming you into becoming dependent on him.

Whenever he didn't visit, you denied your food as well as resisting to eat your medicines. But when Will Graham came, everything calmed down.

People began to talk. Just why had you grown this attached to him? And when Will Graham was told to stay away from you by Jack Crawford, it only angered him.

So he stopped visiting you. Waited and waited for you to be discharged, lurking in the shadows. He waited for you to come to him and when you came running to his office, it was a sight he couldn't forget.

Yandere!Will Graham who immediately took you in when you came to him — knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

He saw you talking to Alana and after eavesdropping on your conversation with her, he figured she was advicing you against him. It angered him. So he decided to get rid of her.

When she ended up dead, everyone was scared because of how brutal her death was. It even left you scared, turning to Will for comfort.

And the man welcomed you with open arms. Telling you to never leave him, or you'd end up like her too.

Only he could protect you, only he could save you like how he already did against your perpetrator and you believed him. How could you not? He was always there to protect you.

Yandere!Will Graham not allowing you to leave his house, guilt tripping you into taking care of his dogs because they don't have anyone other than him.

One day you were cleaning around the house and found a heel, a very familiar looking heel. It was Alana’s and before you could register what was happening, Will was behind you.

He tackled you down on the floor, holding you against it while trying to explain himself.

You'd realized that Will had killed Alana, the same man who claimed to be your protector.

“She was telling you to be independent, to find yourself. Just how could I let that happen? You're mine, I did all this for you.”

There was no way you could free yourself from him. You were terrified, remnants of your horrifying experience coming back to you.

Will held you tightly against his chest as he stabbed you with a syringe, rendering you unconscious. When you woke back up, you found yourself chained.

He sat right next to you, arms on his knees as he stared at you. Eyes glimmering with excitement when he saw you regained consciousness.

“Don't be afraid. I would never hurt you, don't look at me like that.”

It didn't matter. You were all over the place. Face wet with tears and sweat, lips twitching in fear and breath ragged. You were still a sight for sore eyes. His sore eyes.

Yandere!Will who believed that the only way to change your mind was to fuck you, take you right then and there and make you his totally.

And after he was done with you, he'd left you so braindead, there was no way you could leave him now.

Weak minded, broken and with nowhere to go, you accepted him.

Yandere!Will promising you that he'll give you a child to strengthen your relationship — no matter how much he feared his own turning out like him. He was willing to risk it for you.