#it used the time period so well and I just

[agoodflyting]

As a former US History teacher, I do an ugly witch cackle every time an American media pundit says 'don't settle political disagreements with violence'.

America only exists because a bunch of people settled a political disagreement with violence. America has solved almost every political disagreement with violence since our inception and IT WORKS VERY WELL FOR US.

See:

The Sons of Liberty - a widespread colonial-era domestic terrorist organization that created the phrase No Taxation Without Representation and then proceeded to tar and feather tax collectors, riot, burn down public buildings, and generally use violence to protest their issues with Parliament.

"Solving issues with words is for pussies! Tar-and-feather your local tax collector!" - Patrick Henry, probably

2. The Golden Hill Riot - (1770) Local mob confronts a bunch of their own country's soldiers who are posting handbills denouncing terrorist activities in a town in New York, and it degenerates into... yep, yep, it was violence.

"Catch these fists, lawful authorities!"

3. Burning of the Gaspee - (1772) In which the government tries to limit illegal smuggling and the local people respond with patient protesting and letter writing which eventually - no, no, scratch that. They set a royal navy ship on fire.

"Limit MY illegal activities will you?" 4. The fighting at Lexington and Concord (1776)- in which a bunch of domestic terrorists responded to their lawful government's attempts to confiscate a cache of illegal weapons with (checks notes) oh look, it was violence. Lots and lots of violence. So much violence that the crown was forced to declare the entire territory to be 'in a state of rebellion'.

"ACAB!" "What is ay-cab, Patrick?" "I don't know, Hezekiah, it just felt right to yell it while firing my musket at the Crown's authorities."

In fact, the entire history of the American Revolution could be accurately summed up with the phrase: "Using violence to protest oppressive government works very well, actually."

And that's not even getting into the POST-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD.

Shay's Rebellion (1786) - In protest to an economic system that was destroying the lives of poor farmers, a bunch of Revolutionary War veterans form mobs and force the debtors courts to close in several cities in Massachusetts. It leads to a full-scale insurrection that isn't immediately successful but FORCES THE FLEDGLING FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TO RECONVENE TO RECONSIDER ITS ECONOMIC POLICIES WHICH THEN RESULTS IN THE DRAFTING OF THE US CONSTITUTION. Violence? Working.

The Whiskey Rebellion - (1791-1794) Whiskey farmers use violence and intimidation to resist paying federal taxes on the ingredients used to make their product. The rebellion is initially put down by the Federalist government, but the tax is later repealed by Thomas Jefferson.

Nat Turner's Rebellion (1831) - Enslaved man leads an armed slave revolt in Virginia. Massacres 50-60 people in order to spread terror through the white community and to force white people to acknowledge the brutality of slavery. While the rebellion was put down, Turner's revolt achieved its goal. The state of Virginia is so afraid of more slaves catching onto this idea that they pass laws making it illegal for black people (free or enslaved) to learn to read, and requiring a white person to be present at all black-led religious services (Turner used his status as a preacher to help spread word of the rebellion) because they were so afraid of a repeat. Because violence works.

Anti-Rent War (1839) - Large scale riot, rent strike, plus some good old fashioned tarring and feathering of landowners, to protest an unfair system that protected landowners at the cost of renters in upstate New York. The leaders were put on trial, but the overall insurrection successfully forced laws to be written that protected renters from predatory landlords.

Dorr's Rebellion - (1841) A force made up mainly of poor industrial workers and Irish immigrants stage a violent rebellion against the government of Rhode Island, in order to force a repeal of the ancient laws that only allowed wealthy land-owners to vote. Previously, Rhode Island was the only state that still had laws like this and they had no intention of changing them until (checks notes) yep, until violence.

Bleeding Kansas - (1854-1859) For some stupid reason, the citizens of Kansas were being allowed to vote on whether the new state would allow or ban slavery. (Popular sovereignty amirite?) Pro-slavery people from other states started moving into Kansas in order to swing the vote the way they wanted, and they used the time-honored slavers tactic of engaging in terrorism to keep anti-slavery voters down. What started as a war of words between pro-slavery and anti-slavery forces escalated to violence but instead of taking the moral high road, abolitionists like John Brown burned buildings, attacked pro-slavery newspaper offices, and even fucking massacred pro-slavery activists by hacking them to death with swords. Kansas was eventually admitted to the union as a Free State. Violence? Working.

John Brown's raid on Harper's Ferry (1859)- John Brown is just an icon ok. Brown led a group of black and white abolitionists to steal weapons from a federal arsenal, with the intention of giving the guns to slaves to help them stage a bigger, more widespread rebellion. When the Law tried to stop them, Brown started a shootout. He was caught and executed by the state of Virginia, but after his death he became a massive folk icon and hero to abolitionists, and his death directly contributed to starting the American Civil War. John Brown's Body was a popular folk song among Union forces during the war.

I'm going to stop there because this is so so long already and I haven't even gotten to the 20th century and union wars. This is literally just 100 years of American history that I've got here. Not even half of our (already young) country's existence and we have just... the longest track record of using violence to achieve political goals.

In conclusion? Violence is not the answer. Violence is the question and the answer is Yes.

[yiddishknights]

you seem like the right person to ask about jewish knights and judaism in general in arthurian legend

Hello! Apologies for how long it has taken me to respond to this! Throughout the Middle Ages and the early modern period, there were a number of Arthurian texts written by and for Jewish people in Jewish languages. The one I specialize in is an Old Yiddish text called Vidvilt, which is part of the Fair Unknown tradition and based off an earlier German text called Wigalois. This text was super popular in the Yiddish-speaking world for about three centuries or so and was reworked and reprinted a number of times. I already discussed some of those adaptations a while ago in response to this ask.

Predating Vidvilt, there was a Hebrew Arthurian text written in the 13th century which is now commonly known as Melekh Artus. This was based on Old French sources and tells the story of Arthur's birth and Lancelot's affair with Guinevere before breaking off unfinished. The most common edition of the text used today is the one by Curt Leviant, though I just read a fascinating article in the latest issue of the Journal of the International Arthurian Society calling into question some of his transcription choices and the conclusions he draws in his analysis of the text.

I also recently read that a fragment of an Arthurian text in Judeo-Catalan was recently discovered, but I'm afraid I don't know much about it as yet other than that it's apparently a late medieval adaptation of Jaufre.

Chivalric romances of both Christian and Jewish origin were extremely popular among medieval and early modern Jews in general. There were a number of non-Arthurian knight stories that were very popular as well; for example, the most famous and influential work of early Yiddish literature was a chivalric epic called Bovo d'Antona, and a survey I read of the literature in Jewish households in early modern Italy shows that the most popular non-religious work among Jews at that time was Orlando Furioso.

It is worth noting that, even though some of these texts were written by and for Jews, that doesn't necessarily mean that the characters in them were Jewish. Jewish writers generally tended to modify their Christian source materials by gliding over or obscuring references to religion, rather than depicting Judaism directly (the reasons for this are complex and could constitute a whole paper, so I won't get into it here). That being said, medieval Jewish knights did exist in real life, too! There are a few medieval historians who do research into exactly when, where, and under what circumstances Jews were allowed to bear arms, but it definitely wasn't exclusively a literary thing.

[windvexer]

I actually do think that doing magic takes a lot of work and is kinda hard and there aren't very many good shortcuts, and many modern shortcuts actually just amount to leaving out steps, which means you either have to be powerful enough to brute-force it or it fizzles.

Look, I know some people are just much better at magic and witchcraft; anything they do works with little effort, and the lengths some of us have to go to accomplish magic seems bizarre to them. Those people are cool and I wish I was like them but I'm not.

But I also think some of the truth of how to work effective sorcery gets paved over by these "witchcraft has no rules, do anything you want" support posts.

Because A) that is not true, I believe that witchcraft has lots and lots of rules (it's just that nobody else can tell you what they are), and B) I think do anything you want is taken to mean anything you do should work, which is also not true.

I feel like I always see advice given that you don't need to do things (like use physical tools, or cast circles, or whatever). But I never see anyone explaining the techniques and paths of power that are supposed to replace them.

Let's just imagine for a moment that clear quartz really is a universal substitute. Discordians would say that it totally is. So does that mean all you have to do to sub out clear quartz is to just put it on the altar and do the ritual as if it's something else?

Or do you have to do something more?

Do you have to consecrate the stone as being something other than what it is? Do you have to ritually birth it into a new life and baptize it like a baby? Do you have to spend weeks or months honing your technique of focus and beliefs so that you can mentally shift from consensus reality to a personal reality where there is literally no difference between clear quartz and sodalite?

Do you have to raise energies of sodalite and imprint them into the quartz crystal, perhaps working over it for an extended period of time? Do you have to use energy work to tie the clear quartz into Ideal Sodalite so that it becomes like an avatar?

No, you don't have to use physical tools if you don't want to. But that shouldn't be taken to imply that tools are useless or can be replaced in a way that matters by just visualizing that you have them.

A witch spends six months propitiating a tree, ingratiating themselves with the land, offerings and acts of fealty to the tree, a week-long branch harvesting ritual, blood offerings at midnight on a holy day, then another year curing the wood and crafting a wand. Big effort, right?

And you don't need to do that. But if you want that power, what are you going to do instead?

Same with circle-casting. Same with magic on the full moon. No, you don't have to wait until the full moon. You don't have to wait until the moon is in Libra. But there's a really good reason people do those things. So if you want those effects, what actions can replace those effects?

You literally could not do the spell while the full moon is in Libra. That's fine. But then what will bridge the gap? Will you have to raise more energy somewhere else? Include a new aspect? Modify the spell for the moon you can work with?

"You don't have to follow the moon phase for magic" doesn't mean the moon phase is irrelevant and some witches just like to inconvenience themselves for no reason. But it does mean that you can probably adapt your working to overcome the moon being in the inopportune phase.

Every time I talk about how much time, energy, and effort magic can be I feel like someone always replies, "well, it's just not that hard for me! I do what I want with what I have when I need it and it always just works, with very little effort."

Which I think is very great for them, but I also don't think that most people can get results with such low effort.

So anyway my entire point is that I think sometimes the reason people struggle with getting witchcraft to work is because they are operating off of out-of-context soundbites that make it sound like you can just completely cut out some of these foundational concepts of witchcraft.

Maybe you don't have to accomplish those steps in traditional ways. Maybe you don't need all of those steps for every spell you're doing.

But if you've just cut out swaths of steps only because you heard someone say you don't need them (not because of your own experiments working with magic and determining what works best for you), then is there enough left to constitute a functional system of magic?

[drunkinyourbenz]

can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?

୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff

୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!

୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3

when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 

after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 

after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 

you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 

hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 

it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.

bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?

you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.

eh, cramps. 

that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 

bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??

no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 

bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story

you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 

i love you

bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?

just you and maggie’s baking if u have any

bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama

before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 

“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.

you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”

in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”

billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 

your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 

she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 

you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”

billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 

you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.

she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 

you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 

billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 

she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 

she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”

billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”

she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 

soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 

the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 

“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 

“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 

“but–” 

“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 

a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 

“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 

after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 

at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 

billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”

[littlelamy]

HEY HI GORGEOUS

I'm here with another idea. what about divorced rafe and reader where she finds out she's pregnant after they hooked up on a family trip that they did only bc their kid asked for both parents on their birthday and she has to tell him that the baby is his

author's note: hi bby, i made this a little angsty so i hope you enjoy it. thank you so much for sending a request! credits to @mochilly for the the divider <3

the soft hum of the engine and the chatter of your child in the backseat should've been comforting. you should've been able to relax and let the memories of the past weekend settle into something pleasant. but instead, all you could focus on was the secret bubbling inside you. a secret that was both thrilling and terrifying.

you’d been divorced from rafe for a year now. your kid's birthday party had been the excuse to bring you both back together, but the real reason for the trip was the way your kid begged. "please, just one weekend, mom, dad, both of you." and you had agreed, knowing that the family dynamic your child craved was slipping further away every day. rafe had agreed, too, though you both had kept your distance—until that night.

it had been a mistake. a drunken mistake. you had stayed in the same room because of space limitations, and the old chemistry that used to light up every corner of the house ignited that night, despite everything. you were both too broken, too hurt by the years of marriage that fell apart, but still... you found yourselves in bed together, tangled in passion.

now you were facing the consequences of that moment, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were about to crash into a wall of reality. you’d missed your period, and the test didn’t lie. the baby was his.

you pull up to the familiar house, the same one where you had shared so many memories, and where your child now split their time. your kid jumps out of the car and runs into the house, leaving you standing there, nerves tightening your chest. you take a deep breath and close your eyes, steeling yourself. you could do this.

the door opens, and there he is. rafe. his tall frame, messy hair, and that look in his eyes—the same look that once made your heart race. now, it just made your stomach churn with anxiety. he stares at you for a second, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“hey,” you say softly, fighting the tremble in your voice.

“hey, you okay?” he asks, voice rough but laced with concern. “you look like you’re about to pass out.”

you wince, your heartbeat picking up speed. “i, uh, need to talk to you about something.”

rafe’s gaze sharpens, his posture shifting into something more guarded. “what’s wrong? is it about the kid?”

“no, no, it’s about... me,” you mutter, then stop yourself. "well, actually, about us."

the silence between you stretches, thick and uncomfortable. he raises an eyebrow. “us? what the hell are you talking about?”

you glance at your hands, nervous to look him in the eye. “rafe, the thing is... i’m pregnant.”

the words fall into the space between you like a bomb, and his expression morphs instantly from confusion to shock. his lips part as he takes a step back. “what?” his voice is barely a whisper, but you hear the panic in it.

you nod, watching him closely. “yeah. i’m pregnant, rafe. and it’s... it’s yours.”

the air seems to freeze around you. rafe stares at you like he’s trying to process the words, like they can’t possibly be true. his jaw tightens, and you can see the conflict churning in his eyes. “you’re fucking kidding me, right?” he snaps, running a hand through his hair.

“no, i’m not,” you reply, your voice growing firmer, though your insides feel like they're about to implode. "i just found out. the timing—hell, it’s a fucking nightmare, but it’s true.”

rafe glares at you, his usual defensiveness rising like a shield. “how the hell did we end up here?” he mutters under his breath, pacing in a circle.

you feel your own frustration bubbling up. “don’t act like this isn’t your fault too, rafe,” you shoot back, your voice louder now. “you think i wanted this? i didn’t ask for this. i didn’t ask to be here with you again, but our kid wanted us both. and now... now i’m stuck in this mess, and you’re here acting like it’s a goddamn surprise.”

he clenches his fists, jaw tightening. "i know, alright? i know i fucked up with you. but this—this is too much." he stops, running a hand over his face. “you could’ve just... kept it from me. this doesn’t have to be real.”

you scoff, feeling the sting of his words. "i’m not that kind of person, rafe. i’m not just going to pretend it didn’t happen. you need to hear this. whether you like it or not, this is our reality now.”

he’s silent for a moment, then steps closer to you. his voice drops to something softer, more strained. “what do you want me to do, huh? you think i can just act like everything’s fine?”

“no,” you say, your eyes meeting his. “but i can’t do this alone. i need you, rafe. i need you to be here. for me. for our kid.”

he exhales sharply, and for the first time, you see something in his eyes that isn’t anger or confusion—it's fear. “i don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who’s stable, who can give you everything you need. i can’t be that guy.”

“stop,” you interrupt him, your voice trembling. “stop trying to push me away. you’re all i’ve ever needed. yeah, things fell apart between us, but we’re both human. i’m not asking for some fucking fairy tale, rafe. i’m asking for you to step up, for our kid, for what we used to have.”

his lips press together, and the tension in the air thickens. then, finally, he speaks. “you’re right. i’m not perfect, but i’ll be here. i’ll try, alright? i’ll try for you. for the baby. i—”

he cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. his voice cracks a little when he adds, “i’m scared as hell, but i’ll try.”

tears well up in your eyes, but you hold them back. “i’m scared too,” you whisper. “but i think we can make it work.”

he steps closer, lifting a hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. his voice is low, almost a whisper. “we’ll figure this out. together.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[alotofpockets]

How strong you are | Jessie Fleming x Chelsea!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Your first day back in training after your injury. It felt like something big, especially because it was the first major injury you’ve had since the start of your career. Where your girlfriend had been excited for your return to the pitch, you were mainly feeling nervous.

The recovery had been a lot. Both mentally and physically it had been a struggle. Your girlfriend has been with you every step of the way. Without Jessie by your side, you don’t think you would have made it through. She had been your rock throughout the whole recovery journey.

She was downstairs, cleaning up after breakfast while you were getting changed into your training gear. Jessie hadn’t expected you to take so long, so she went up to check on you. She found you in your training top, but still in just your underwear for bottoms. A pair of training shorts and joggers laid in front of you on the bed.

Your eyes moved between them like you were trying to solve a puzzle. She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for you to meet her eyes. When you finally did, she smiled your way. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I don’t know which to wear to training.” Jessie had a feeling of the underlying reason, but she knew it would be better if you talked about your feelings, so she asked you anyways. “Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders you sat down on the bed with her. Your eyes settled on your knee, the fresh surgery scar staring back at you. Jessie knew then that her suspicion was right, still she wanted you to be the one to say it, so she stayed quiet and let you take your time. 

She reached for your hand, her fingers interlocking with yours, offering a quiet reassurance as you sifted through your thoughts. Her touch grounded you, like an anchor in a storm, reminding you that she'd be there to catch you if you fell.

Still the words, “Nevermind,” Came out of your mouth, “I’ll just wear the joggers.” You started getting up, but Jessie used your intertwined hands to keep you down. “Baby, you hate wearing joggers for training.”

You shrugged, “I am allowed to change my mind.” Jessie knew you had a point, of course you were allowed to change your mind, but she knew there was more to it than that. “You are allowed to change your mind every day of the week, and I will support you no matter what. But baby, you hate joggers with a passion. You wear shorts even in the middle of Canadian winter.”

Her comment made you chuckle, she was right of course. The tightness of joggers had always been the reason you hated to wear them. Even the cold bothered you less than training in joggers, and that says a lot when you know how cold it can get in Canada.

“I know, I do hate them and I will never change my mind on them. But my scar. Everyone will see it. Everyone will see that my body is weak, that I am weak. I’d rather be uncomfortable than weak.”

You had been wearing your shorts to your gym sessions over your recovery period, but that was just you and the trainer, plus occasionally Jessie who came to check in. The trainer was more than accustomed to injured players and their rehabilitation, so there you hadn’t really minded. This time it would be in front of the whole team, and you didn’t know how to feel about that.

Even though Jessie had guessed that this was the underlying reason, it still hurt hearing you say it like that. Did you really think you were weak? She didn’t give herself much time to think about that though, she wanted to reassure you right away.

"Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are." She took your other hand in hers as well. “They show that despite something going wrong, you overcame it. You got back up, and took care of your body. That already makes you strong, and what makes you even stronger, is that you are not just recovering from an injury, you’re getting back from it.”

Jessie was so good with her words that you were tearing up a little. “Do you really think so?” She smiled and gave your hands a reassuring squeeze. “I know so. While you haven’t been on the pitch yet, I can tell from your sessions in the gym that you are going to come back stronger.”

You pulled Jessie in for a hug after that, thanking her for always being there for you. Together you stayed like that for a moment, before Jessie pulled away. “Alright, we have to leave in a bit. I’ll go put our stuff in the car. Go put on some bottoms you’re comfortable with today, and I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down. Thank you Jess, you’re the best.” You pecked her lips and watched her walk out of the room. Leaving you to choose which bottoms to wear by yourself.

You eyed the shorts and the joggers a final time, now less puzzled than before. Jessie had been right, you despised joggers, and you were proud of all of your teammates and friends you had seen come back from injuries, so why not you?

So, with a new sense of confidence you grabbed the shorts and put them on. You knew you’d still be thinking about what others thought, that wouldn’t just go away of course, but you knew that your scar wasn’t something you should be self conscious about.

Jessie smiled wide when she saw you walk into the living room. “That’s my girl.” She hugged you tight. “I am so proud of you. And I cannot wait to see you out on the pitch again, continuing to take care of your body, and working towards your full comeback.”

With her arm still around your shoulder, she walked you to the car. “You are going to do amazing today.” She said with a kiss to your cheek before you drove off to training.

-----

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[admirationandromantics]

Josh and Thighs

I cannot stress this enough, but Josh is an ass and thigh man!!! I’ve always imagined him as one. You know that he loves big thighs, more to grab, and grab he does. At the same time, I only came up with oddly specific examples, so this is a bit short. Anyways, enjoy some sfw and nsfw headcanons <3

How would Josh feel about thick thighs bei by all up in his space - Anon 🍋‍🟩

Loves having your legs on top of him. You’re watching a movie with your back down on the sofa, while he’s sitting up. Your legs are on his lap, and he just strokes and up and down them for the entire duration of the film. 

Hands gracing over them, going upwards until they find your waist. 

Of course, there’s also non-sexual touches. While sleeping, he loves bending one of your legs, shoving it on him before kissing you goodnight (cuddles yay!). He also does this while passionately kissing. He’ll lift your leg, grabbing and massaging your flesh while holding it up to his waist, pressing you against him. 

Honestly, it's one of his favorite parts of you. He’ll grab you anywhere anytime. In public or at home. 

He wants to use your thighs as headphones. Head pressed between your legs, making you scream while your thighs rest on his shoulders. Let's just say that he wouldn’t mind you crushing his head with them as well (Though not as hard as Handigo did, we don’t want to kill him after all). 

He loves grabbing you, harshly until he leaves red marks. And that’s not the only thing. He’ll kiss you all over, biting and sucking until your thighs are blue and purple. There’s no way out of it either, he’ll use you until you can’t walk, period. 

[suckerforthisshit]

1) I don't even know. Many are really cool, perhaps favorite one is when Near meets Mello eye on eye

2) I don't care. Just not to much uncanny. Personality is more important. (I would hate it anyways. My personal space wounded)

3) Pft, no one knows. Probably a long period because I wouldn't use it, would study it perhaps and keep it as a secret

4) Damn I have Hogwarts AU with Mello, Near, Matt, L, Misa and more side characters I created and added in death note universe. But I can't say it's Harry Potter universe completely because many things are changed.. I don't know. Wait that's not even anime.. Maybe persona five or something. They'd be fun in monster. Chasing Johan Liebert. I also imagined them in Cyberpunk world, as different creatures... Just- don't ask. Even couple of ferrets.

5) "I fly a helicopter with intuition."- L Lawliet scene

6) I'll say a manga cover, because I am not an anime fan. 8th manga cover with Mello sitting on sofa. Magnificent

7) Mello. Once he had a notebook. Although it's debatable

8) First L's. But nothing hit like Mello's death. I was so mad on Near for his reaction. Later on, my rage calmed down in the last act

9) Well now.. that's.. a list. I can't even chose one truly. But let's say generally, for Mello it's hard rock, bit of blues rock with metal tones, for Near it'd be electronic music, bit ot house (no pop). Matt is classic rock and punk rock. L is indie. But this all is just a vibe, not what these characters would listen to. For example in my interpretation Mello loves classical

10) Matt 100%

11) Haven't read manga for a long time, I don't remember all details. (I got driven in my own fictions and fantasies, stories of these characters rider then sticking to manga) but what really shocked me, obviously was L's sudden death, and last scene of Near eating chocolate really redirected me to some future decisions

12) Matt with lemurs

13) Meronia, other ships of my oc characters with original ones. Matt x Zoya, L x Etta. Near x Chris. Mello x Messy.. doesn't matter. No one knows them anyways

14) Naomi Misora

15) Some weird mix of all L, Mello, Near and Matt. Mello's intensity, Near's calmness and introversion, L's personality, Matt's style and laid-back behavior

16) "The one who doesn't win a game is just a loser"

17) Did Mello ever actually care about Near in manga, was his death out of his principles and 'giving up on himself', as he accepted to never actually be able to defeat him. Or actually something else, as sort of sacrifice for Near's sake

18) You mean if I was to choose the color that fits death note manga set it'd be something deep dark red or gray, black. If you ask if I was in series and one manga cover was made for me, it'd be a deep eggplant purple or dark grayish blue color

19) Something dark, black loosen dress, black aviator hat.. dark red-purple lipstick in 20s (previous century) style

20) normal, or ketchup

21) none

22) Won't even start with theories. Many

23) I won't be boring and say Mello and Near's interaction (although it's most true) , but L and Light had fun dynamic

24) Mello and Misora. Misa was fun, sometimes overdressed. Matt was fun

25) Arc two, Near hit me hard. I instantly liked him and started thinking up my own stories

26) I mean, I'll forever repeat that one moment of Mello's death as worst thing ever to happen. Near in third arc (the separated manga) was very depressed

27) I can't. Nah, no energy

28) Uhhh... Mello sitting on couch, or Mello holding a skull

29) idk

30) Near

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.  

[galaxy-fleur]

⋆Midnight Rendezvous⋆

Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.

Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!

Word Count: 4k words.

Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.

Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics

For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.

This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.

For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.

"-Hey."

It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.

"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"

An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.

He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.

"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "…Are you in the mood to keep me company?"

"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"

Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.

"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."

He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.

"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."

The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.

"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."

He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.

"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"

"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"

The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.

"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.

Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.

"I, uh… I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with… crap. I’m tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know I’ll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."

You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."

He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.

"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better… I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."

His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.

"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.

Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.

"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, it’s…" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what you’d do to me if you were here."

That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.

But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.

As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.

All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.

Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.

"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"

The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.

"No. No we’re not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."

His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.

"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."

Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.

With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.

With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.

"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.

"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."

His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.

He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.

"I’d… I’d have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."

He can’t help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.

His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.

"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."

"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.

"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."

Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.

"Fuck…" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.

His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.

"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?

"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"

You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.

"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."

He swallows.

"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."

You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.

"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."

...Oh, damn.

Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.

"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."

"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.

He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.

"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock… everywhere."

In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.

"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."

Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.

"Fuck… I am,” he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now… so much better than mine…"

"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.

His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Tell me… where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."

Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.

"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."

Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.

"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."

"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.

He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."

Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.

And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.

You exhale.

"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."

"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."

"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."

Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.

"Fuck, you are too good at this…" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."

In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.

He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.

"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."

Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.

"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"

"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice.

It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.

"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"

...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.

"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.

He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.

"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."

A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.

"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.

"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."

His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.

"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.

"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

He laughs at that, shaking his head.

"God, I love you."

"I love you more."

[netscapenavigator-official]

I know this isn't gonna help anyone on the Luigi Mangione's jury, but I feel like I see a lot of people throw around "Jury Nullification" without actually understanding the responsibility it entails.

Jury Nullification is NOT your explicit right. It is a legal gray area that rides on the back of your explicit rights. Specifically, a jury has the right to

Return any verdict it sees fit.

Not be punished for the verdict it selects.

Not have their verdict challenged or directed.

For these reasons, you (as a Juror) and the people (as a Jury) have the right to vote whichever way they see fit for whatever reason they may choose. That includes voting "Not Guilty" in a situation where the defendant has broken the law, but the circumstances or law, itself, require an alternative verdict.

However.

Just like you have the right to to return whatever verdict you choose, a judge has the right to remove you from the jury if they feel you are being deceptive about your impartiality. The point of a trial is to be as neutral and impartial as possible. After all, a trial with biases is not a "fair" trial. Jurors who have prior knowledge and opinions about a case and its circumstances must be removed from the case and relieved of their jury duty. Jurors who intent to disregard the letters of the law in favor of opinion, morality, whatever, must also be relieved of their jury duty and replaced. Therefore, if you approach your fellow jurors and tell them about Jury Nullification and your plans to utilize it, someone may very well tell on you to the judge. It is then that judge's obligation to remove you from the jury and replace you with a more impartial juror (one that may not know about Jury Nullification). Therefore, if you openly support Jury Nullification in a court room, you can (and will) be removed from it.

So, even if it means hanging the jury with a non-unanimous vote, you cannot inform others about your intentions, and you cannot encourage others to utilize Jury Nullification, too. It sucks, but it's reality. Court rooms are very disapproving of Jury Nullification to the point that they have (wrongly) charged individuals with Contempt of Court for telling jurors about it. Lawyers are even forbidden from telling juries they can use this right, in the first place. That's how disliked this ability is. So one more time:

If you intent on actually utilizing Jury Nullification, you have to be completely silent about it. Period. You cannot inform your fellow jurors about it, and you cannot inform anybody in the court room about your plans to utilize it. That is it. That is how things work, and you have to tread lightly and carefully.

[brightlyburningstar]

people on the internet piss me the fuck off

i understand the frustration about the jrwi oneshot being paywalled. i'm 100% for pirating it if you cant afford the 5$ tier (assuming its not the what if tier, in which case i too will be pirating it), and I absolutely get being frustrated that they haven't made public riptide content in just over a year.

however

JUST BECAUSE THEY HAVEN'T MADE RIPTIDE CONTENT IN OVER A YEAR DOESN'T MEAN THEY HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING ELSE IN THAT PERIOD OF TIME OR THAT THEY HAVEN'T MADE A SINGULAR UPDATE ABOUT IT!!

I UNDERSTAND WANTING MORE FROM GRIZZ AND WANTING IT BACK ASAP, BUT RUNNING A CAMPAIGN IS A LOT OF WORK!! EVEN A ONESHOT TAKES AN EXTREME AMOUNT OF PREPARATION, SO JUST IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF TIME AND EFFORT THAT GOES INTO RUNNING THE WHOLE CAMPAIGN!! AND ITS NOT LIKE THEY HAVEN'T MADE AN UPDATE ABOUT THE STATE OF THE SHOW THIS ENTIRE TIME!! SURE THEY HAVEN'T BEEN THE MOST FREQUENT BUT AT LEAST WE HAVE A GENERAL IDEA OF WHATS HAPPENING BEHIND THE SCENES.

ON TOP OF THAT THEIR'S ALSO WONDERLUST!! THE CURRENT PUBLIC CAMPAIGN BEING RAN BY BIZZLY!! THE SAME PEOPLE WHO ARE COMPLAINING THAT ALL THE NEW STUFF IS PAYWALLED AND THAT ITS UNFAIR ARE ALSO LITERALLY ACTIVELY TALKING ABOUT PIRATING THE ONE SHOT!! THE LOGIC OF "WELL THEY ARENT MAKING NEW STUFF PUBLICLY AND I CANT WATCH ANY OF IT" IS LITERALLY OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE THERE ARE PLENTY OF LINKS CIRCULATING AROUND TO WATCH THE PATREON/MEMBERS CONTENT FOR FREE AND THEIR WILL BE SOME FOR WHEN THE CHRISTMAS ONE DROPS!! FUCK IM GONNA USE SOME TO WATCH THE "WHAT IFS" BC I CAN'T AFFORD THE 10$ TIER!!

ALSO FOR THE PEOPLE COMPLAINING THAT THE CHRISTMAS BREAK IS STUPID LET ME REMIND YOU THAT THERE ARE ALSO EDITORS, THUMBNAIL ARTISTS, AND OTHER PEOPLE WORKING ON THE SHOW!! SO JUST MAYBE?? THE BREAK ISN'T JUST FOR THE BOYS?? BUT ALSO FOR THE OTHER PEOPLE BEHIND THE FUCKING SCENES!! AND LET ME REMIND YOU ONCE MORE THAT THE PEOPLE ON SCREEN HAVE LIVES OUTSIDE OF THE SHOW!! THEY HAVE CAREERS!! THEY HAVE RELATIONSHIPS!! THEY HAVE BEHIND THE SCENES WORK FOR THE SHOW LIKE MERCH AND THE WEBSITE!! AND JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T PUBLICLY SEE THE WORK THAT THEY ARE PUTTING INTO THE SHOW DOESN'T MEAN THAT THEIR SITTING ON THEIR ASSES DOING NOTHING!!

tdlr: you can be upset about the lack of riptide content over the past year but that doesn't mean you can say shit about the jrwi crew and that they've done nothing over the past year

[dallasgallant]

Christmas headcanons-

I’m so behind, I was on time and early for the other holidays, and I’m technically still early now but when it comes to Christmas content usually you want it super early as everyone’s busy the week of. Anyways—

Time period 1. Time period 2

Two-bits house has its Christmas lights up year round, soon after their dad left they stopped taking them down. They also don’t really trust two on the roof not to hurt himself so it’s the safest bet

On years it’s not donated by Mr. Curtis’s work, the Curtis men set out to the tree lot, go to the back and start haggling for a decent enough cheap tree. They’re usually scrawny but affordable.

Dally hates when it ices on top of snow, he can aim a snowball well but if it’s frozen he turns into Bambi on ice - Two and Steve are relentless when this happens as he just keeps slipping and can’t catch them.

Johnny stays with two-bit the most around the holidays. He bounced between there and his own home, sometimes the Curtis house but mainly if they’re having everyone over.

The amount of chocolate just out for the taking in the Curtis home is unfathomable.

Soda has 100% eaten the foil before.

Pony used to play with the nativity like a farm set when he was really little, there’s a few photos of this.

Pony’s favorite Christmas songs are all the hymns and gospel songs, real old stuff. Guys call him boring for it but Johnny will sit and listen with him sometimes, even if he would take chuck berry over o’ holy night most of the time.

All of the gangs winter coats have about a million patches in them but still work well, Johnny’s has slightly less holes than his usual jacket.

All of the gang have tried to convince Pony that yellow snow was lemon flavored, unfortunately he’s a bit too observant to fall for it. - that being said they all have attempted to write their name before to varying success lol

Mrs. Curtis was the one to teach Darry and Dally how to mend/patch clothes (older headcanon of mine)

An annual professional photo around Christmas of her sons is Mrs. Curtis’s splurge of the season, the amount of awkward photos is unfathomable. The year she got a camera for herself was her favorite.

The guys will have some small stuff for the others but nothing major, most are reserved for getting something for family(if at all) most of two’s are swiped.

Think this was from a SE fic but Steve runs gifts for his ma, small stuff like fudge across the neighborhood. Then he started giving his services out to others— he and soda have a little enterprise going.

Like Thanksgiving, the curtis home is the preferred viewing space for Tv specials and Christmas episodes of shows because of their color television.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Dipper and Mabel vs the Past au (title is a reference to an actual episode in the show) - Timestuck style au where instead of ending up in the time period where the Oregon Trail was being used in The Time Traveler's Pig,Dipper and Mabel end up 30 years into the past and end up uncovering secrets about their Grunkle Stan like WAYYYY earlier than they're supposed to (time travelers pig is s1,not what he seems is s2. they discover things Very Early in the timeline here). Mabel ends up with Ford,Dipper ends up with Stan. Now i know the usual portrayal of this au is "the kids being with their favorite grunkles" but i wanted to do something different cuz i LOVE exploring the dynamics of Dipper with Stan and Mabel with Ford sooo bad. I'm thinking this is set like... Paranoia Ford era aka the events culminating to Stan receiving the postcard,so basically Ford has literally just lost his best friend and also almost had his fucking tendons snapped and now he has to deal with a child who is apparently his great niece in the future while simultaneously protecting the child from Bill,Ford has a lot on his plate lmaooo.

Meanwhile Mullet Stan is down on his luck as he lives in his shitty rundown apartment while trying to avoid Rico due to owing him money that he currently doesn't have,he's miserable as ever and then a child with a hat as well as a striking resemblance to his brother suddenly appears in his car when he was out shoplifting groceries,having to take care of it when he can barely take care of himself. Angst and hurt/comfort + a few wholesome moments ensue. Ford finds himself getting attached to his young niece even when he's incredibly highstrung and feels that he can't trust anyone right now,seeing that such a bright and caring soul is worth trusting. Mabel eventually finds out about Bill after the bastard possesses Ford while she was trying to give him a better sleep schedule,and the girl makes it her mission to protect her other grunkle (like i said. they figure things out way early here) from that bastard after realizing that this pointy jerk wants to hurt him as evident from the fork stabbing and Ford's journal pages regarding him being tormented by Bill (bro the funniest thing is that Bill doesn't even appear yet in this current part of the timeline lmaoo. like dreamscapers happens WAYYY AFTER the time traveler's pig. so Mabel basically just saw a triangle dude that she knows nothing about and has never met and decided that she needs to fight for her life to protect Ford from him despite ALSO not knowing anything about her other grunkle either). Mabel helps Ford slowly get himself back together as Bill is biding his time to eventually get the portal started again one way or another,meaning that Bill is too busy planning things out to torment Ford,thus Mabel chooses self care for her Grunkle Ford and makes it his problem, trying to force Ford to get out of the house for groceries or at least give him a few minutes to touch grass rather than being cooped up in his dumb dork lab all day making him shower giving him a better sleep schedule and even making cupcakes for him so he can eat things besides moldy cheese or strange tasting alien cow milk (reference to that one real life journal 3 page with the weird cow). Ford is actually very shocked and touched by this gesture,because he has been spending weeks all by himself while being actively tortured without anyone by his side but now this girl suddenly makes his life a little brighter and he thanks her for that,despite him being strict snappy and moody most of the time due to being stressed from Bill and the portal (i can't really blame him for feeling that way. i too would feel my sanity slipping as the looming threat of the apocalypse going to be eventually caused by my former muse is getting nearer and nearer while said muse is also torturing me 24/7 all while juggling self care and research and taking care of a whole child to top it all off),bro is close to tears when he realizes that he's not alone after all and that he doesn't HAVE to be alone,and that he actually needs someone rather than not needing people like what he said,i.e "I don't need you. I don't need anyone!" and Mabel is right there to help him. Mabel ends up wearing 80s clothes as well as stops using her phone in public in order to not draw suspicion after Ford pointed out that people would get pretty confused by her glowing shoes and "advanced flip phone",meanwhile Ford tries to figure out how to find the time tape that the girl speaks of as he starts to study time travel and relearn the laws of time in order to help Mabel as he plans on possibly building a makeshift time machine to replace the tape in the case that they never find it.

So far Mabel is doing pretty well despite having to deal with her snappy Grunkle Ford and the fact that her Grunkle Stan was lying about her and Dipper being the only family he has left as well as the fact that she actively has to ignore every trick that Bill pulls on her including possession by using unicorn hair that is now a hair extension on her own hair (early discovery) while also trying to not die/get grievously injured at the hands of Bill or Bill possessed Ford and ALSO greatly missing her brother who is nowhere to be found as she can't find a way home to her time as she begins to experience literally disappearing very slowly as a result of a time paradox of her being in a time before she was even born,what fun! :D.

Dipper however,has worse problems to deal with than a demon triangle and a snappy Grunkle. He has to deal with being homeless and being even MORE anxious/guarded than he already was due to the fact that his Grunkle Stan's enemies could jump him any moment. He has to be Stan's accomplice in committing crimes like shoplifting or pickpocketing people for food and money. The fact that Stan is a criminal and that he has to commit crimes with the risk of getting caught or worse,killed by his Grunkle's old "friends" puts a lot of weight on the poor boy,and he was anxious as is with him generally being highstrung and now he has EVERY reason to be afraid due to him being a runaway criminal with Stan. Although having to live a hard life and commit difficult crimes even when it's wrong ended up toughening Dipper up,showing that dealing with the hard and fast life boosted his confidence tenfold. Dipper actually feels bad for his Grunkle Stan,even when the guy kept making fun of him back then (i.e Dipper vs manliness and the bottomless pit stories),as he had NO IDEA that his Grunkle lived like this before. So he makes sure to be as helpful and as less of a burden as possible,just to make his Grunkle Stan happy. Heck,he even becomes protective of his Grunkle despite his weak nerd arms and he has gotten injured for the grifter's sake multiple times such as the time he got a lot of scrapes and bruises from trying to rescue Stan from falling in a ditch as he ended up falling himself instead. Stan is glad to have a little buddy around him,especially when the kid is his future nephew and thus family,since he's been suffering all by himself for so long and he really appreciates the company. He really wishes that he could help Dipper regarding the whole time tape situation,but only Ford could know what to do as he's too dumb to understand time travel (Stan ur inferiority complex is showing). So he figures that the only way he could help is to just watch out for a weird looking tape measure with an hour glass symbol on it and steal it immediately from whoever has it (the time tape has actually ended up with Blendin after he used a spare time tape to look for the other one that the kids have [he needs to return those. he'll get in trouble for losing a single one],and he's been looking for the children for a while so that he could bring them back to their own time as their very presence in the 80s is a time anomaly and thus he wants to fix it before he gets in trouble with the time police).

Dipper ALSO forces Stan to take care of himself,although to a lesser extent than Mabel with Ford. He doesn't do any heavy duty self care work,but he more so reminds Stan to consider himself too whenever they have food or beds to share instead of just letting him have everything and sacrificing the little stability he already has for the kid. Dipper also tries to give them a better lifestyle at some point by convincing Stan to rent a house and also steal wads of cash from an ATM just to give him a taste of a normal life again since he feels bad for his Grunkle having to sleep in his car or a shitty apartment all the time,Stan literally cries from this gesture as he's so happy to have someone besides Ford finally care about him after 10 years of being alone. He discovers that he doesn't have to be alone and push people away despite wanting someone to care so bad,as Dipper is there to help him.

The two happily live in the rented house for a few weeks until they the landlord kicked them out for not paying rent and then they had to make a run for it. Sometimes,being with Dipper physically pains Stan because of how much he reminds him of Ford. He has the same bright curiosity and thirst for knowledge that his brother had,the same innocence and happiness that Ford had before everything happened. Stan missing Ford is so evident to the point of him occasionally calling the kid "Poindexter" because of how much the boy reminds him of his twin. Dipper finds out about Ford sooner or later because of this,plus he ends up discovering the old picture of Stan and Ford in front of the Stan o' War in his Grunkle's jacket.

He gets angry at the future old Stan for never telling him about his brother and that he had another Grunkle,but he soon realizes why after young Stan explains the whole ordeal he has with Ford regarding the science fair incident. Stan himself points that out too. "What the- You- You had a brother this whole time?!. How come your future self never told me about this?!. What other things is he hiding?. Ugh." "Well,kid. If i know myself,i wouldn't go around telling everyone about the drama i have with my brother y'know?. Especially when it still hurts *sniff*." "What?. What do you mean 'drama'?. Actually,is that the reason why you're living like this and you don't ask him for help?." "Uhh.. You see,my brother is a stubborn jerk. So stubborn that he decided to go to college instead of staying with me. And he let Dad kick me out because of what?. Breaking his dumb perpetual motion machine project?." Stan says in frustration as the resentment is oozing with his every word,as he still doesn't forgive Ford for what he did even with how much he misses him. "Oh.. That's awful. I don't really know the full scope of what happened between you two,but i can say that it's that bad considering that you ended up living on the streets soon after." "Ya think?. As far as i'm concerned,that nerd is living it up in a normal house with his dumb college money instead of sleeping out in a car all the damn time." "And kid,there's a reason why the older me didn't tell you anything. Whatever happens to us in the future,that bastard STILL didn't talk to me about our problems. As him- er me not talking about it means that the resentment is still simmering inside." "Ah,figures. I guess you really are Grunkle Stan instead of some random dumb hobo with how wise you are." "Can it Dippy. I wasn't the one crying over losing a hat yesterday." "Hey!. I- It's my signature accessory,i can't go without it" "Yeah yeah whatever". Also,Dipper and Mabel greatly miss the other. The kids' determination to get back to their twin no matter what cost reminds their respective Stans that they used to be like that too back then,always prioritizing their twin over everything else.

Mabel always makes little doodles of her and Dipper's adventures together in her new 80s scrapbook which Ford catches her doing,meanwhile Dipper rambles about how fun and supportive Mabel is to Stan whenever they have a break from being on the run. Stan feels conflicted over letting the boy constantly talk about how great his sister is when his own sibling is a good for nothing bastard but it also makes him think that maybe he and Ford can be like that again sometime whenever he finally gets the courage to call him or send a postcard to him,Ford on the other hand ignores Mabel's Dipper doodles and occasional rambles about her brother while making an excuse about him being "too busy" to hear about it despite the real reason being that he's too angry at Stan to keep being reminded of the fact that they used to be as close as his future niece and nephew. Both younger twins realize that they NEED to get their Grunkles to talk to each other since it's painful to see a set of siblings like them hate each other so much,especially when they're family, although Mabel is more insistent about it than Dipper due to the fact that Stan has bigger fish to fry than making up with his brother plus the girl is more optimistic than her brother who thinks that Stan and Ford's relationship is broken beyond repair and that there's no hope for them. But getting their Grunkles talk to each other is a job for another time,as they still have to find each other and also find the time tape as well as blend into the 80s until they get back.

(i made this au forever ago. but i forgot to finish it until like November or show it to anyone until now 💀)

[vintageandroid]

Hot & Cold Rice Bag Tutorial

I put a new tutorial up on my blog Craft Witch! I made a tutorial for an easy, beginner-friendly, but super useful project: a rice bag that you can freeze or heat for pain relief. It's great for headaches, muscle aches, period cramps, minor injuries...you get the idea.

Like all of my sewing tutorials, this uses hand-sewing and does not assume you have any expensive equipment or even experience in sewing. So if you've been wanting to pick up sewing (or wanting to get back into it) but you've been intimidated by other tutorials, maybe give this one a shot?

This is one of the easiest hand sewing projects you can do, so that makes it great for new sewists of any age! It’s just a rectangle and some back stitches, and some rice that you probably already have on hand. You don’t need to iron or do anything fancy. It doesn’t take very long—I didn’t time it, but each of the two bags I made for this project took less time than an episode of Columbo. And, since it gets turned inside-out, it’s absolutely fine if your stitches aren’t very even or pretty, if you cut the fabric badly, if your thread isn’t well-matched, or anything else.

Let me know what you think, and share if you like! Thanks for reading, and if you enjoy my work, I have a Ko-Fi and a Patreon! Also I'm running a promotion on Patreon right now, 50% off your first month with code DISCOUNT1.

[artist-issues]

So if you believe every biblical word is 100% the word of your god, not to be questioned, only obeyed, regardless of how far humanity develops, how do you manage Ephesians 6:5-9?

Should human trafficking victims simply obey their captors “with a sincere heart” given that they are “servants of Christ” and the Bible urges bond servants to be “faithful and obedient?”

Hell, it promises obedient slaves will be rewarded in Heaven.

To anyone reading, seriously, check the whole verse, the context doesn’t make it better.

If your argument is that all in the Bible is above question, how do you account for that?

Nobody said "not to he questioned, only to he obeyed"—if what you MEAN by "not to be questioned," is "not to be carefully examined in order to get it right." The Bible straight-up says to carefully examine God's words. So don't be disingenuous.

Every Biblical word is 100% the Word of God, yeah. Ephesians 6:1-9 says:

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise), so that it may be well with you, and that you may live long in the land. Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. Slaves, be obedient to those who are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in the integrity of your heart, as to Christ; not by way of eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, serving with good will as to the Lord, and not to men, knowing that whatever good thing each one does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether slave or free. And masters, do the same things to them, giving up threatening, knowing that both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no partiality with Him."

The chapter is talking about Christian-human relationships with other humans. Starts with the most basic human institution—family. Moves on to slaves and masters. Slaves, indentured servants, bond slaves, were all common in the time of the Bible being written. It was not cultural taboo to have people living with and working for you, or even being bought and sold by you—what the Bible is saying here is actually very counter-cultural. Because it means you have to keep treating them as equal humans, not objects or beasts of burden you can beat or mistreat however you want. Which is a low bar in our minds, but was an incredibly high bar back then. It's called "interpretation." You can't just take words written in a specific context and time period, for a specific intent, with a thousands-of-years-older vocabulary and culture, and go "oh, well in my time period and my language that word means this." It's about as dumb as saying the Wizard of Oz is about queer sex purely because of how many times the word "queer" is printed in the book.

Human trafficking victims are not the kind of "slaves" this verse is talking about, and I bet you know it.

In fact, there is too much anti-human-trafficking philosophy in the Bible for even the most ardent atheist to try the same little "discredit the Bible" smear tactic you're trying right now. Anyone who knows anything about history (beyond a mere 185 years ago, that is) and can see concepts beyond the far-West-ideology of "slavery bad" can have a more intelligent discussion than this.

I'm tired of the same old tripe.

Don't you see that God is using the same term, "slaves" to refer to Christians, HIS people, who are also called His "sheep, children, beloved, inheritors, heirs?" In this same verse? So then when the God who invented humanity uses the word "slave" can't you infer that maybe He doesn't mean it with the same baby-level-100 1/2-year-old connotations that you do? If He's using it to refer to the very same people He loves, protects, sacrificed His life for, and goes to unimaginable lengths to bless--then do you really think this verse is talking about people who are categorically worth being treated as less than human?

That doesn't make sense. You can see that it doesn't make sense.

Bottom line: if God said slavery was morally acceptable, guess what? It would be morally acceptable. He invented reality, your brain, and morality. But He didn't say that, so grow up and be serious. Instead, what He said was listed above: no matter your circumstances, be it as a child, father, slave, or master, remember and conduct yourself as if you're all slaves of God, and you're living to please Him, not each other or yourselves.

God condemns "man-stealing" in Exodus 21:16. Deuteronomy 22 condemns rape. The same God wrote 100% of the Bible through several different authors across centuries by the inspiration of the very words with His Spirit. No, this passage of Ephesians does not tell sexually trafficked victims to obey their kidnappers and rapists. And you know it. Got anything else?

[mjrtaurus]

Modern dragodile but it’s divorce + co parenting

Crocodile a well known, well respected mob boss politician. Who owns a god chunk of the city, can be seen dining at exclusive clubs with the elite or taking his 7 yr old to school ( it’s a private school much to Dragons chagrin, he only agreed because of safety concerns)

Dragon runs a tattoo parlour in what is to be considered the worst part of town, although in the two blocks of his shop, queen ivas club and Kumas temple. You will be protected. He is usually spotted at parks, driving his motorbike, and almost always with his son.

There are privileged few who know that the lavish and Capitalist mob boss used to run in those two blocks that have been so generously nicknamed “dead end drop”

Even fewer know the small curled dragon behind his left ear was not an impulse decision at 18.

Exactly 2 people know that’s there’s a matching crocodile behind the left ear of one monkey d dragon.

Sir crocodile is know for his company, his image captured Almost weekly. His arm, fingers and even lips caught around giant blondes, stoic brunettes, body guards and once a blue haired performance artist.

Daz bones hides the smirk on his face as he hears his boss stomping around. Luffy had just spilled the beans that Dragon had been having a “friend” over.

“Who does he think he is? Bringing a- a- some tramp around?” Crocodile spits, “and around Luffy no less? Ooh.. when I get ahold of that bastard!”

Daz had no doubt that the “tramp” in question was an upstanding citizen who had been throughly vetted and Dragon had been seeing for a good amount of time now. The man did not play when it came to his son.

Crocodile liked company but he never mixed his nighttime partners with his life much less his child. Daz could respect that, he could however feel a little less respectful of his bosses behaviour now.

He had known, deep down when Crocodile realized Dragon was dating again there would be a.. adjustment period. (Personally he thought his boss should put on his big boy pants and admit he wasn’t over his ex, but he wasn’t paid enough to be a therapist)

“Charolette!?! You’re dating a Charolette?!?” Crocodile screeched into his phone. “And you’re letting him near Luffy?!?”

A quiet rumble responded, probably making some valid point.

Daz sighed and moved to Luffys room. He stuck his head into the mossy green inside. “Hey little man.” He called “everything good?”

Luffy threw his pillow into the air again and caught it. “Yeah.. I guess.” He blew his bangs out of his face. “Dad really likes Kata.”

The floor creaked slightly as Daz came to rest beside the messy bed littered with stuffed animals. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Luffy scrunched his nose, “Shanks says that Baba is trying to make dad jealous but I don’t think he’s doing a good job because dad is just sad a lot.”

Daz sighed “you wanna sneak out and go to the aquarium?”

Shanks almost dropped his smoothie. “So you’re not doing this to make him jealous?!”

Dragon made a face that very clearly stated he would be pinching his forehead if he wasn’t currently sticking a needle in the redheads skin.

“Not everyone goes about their life trying to one up their ex.” He deadpanned. “Some of us have lives.”

“Touché big guy.” Shanks sat still for exactly 15 seconds before opening his mouth again. “So Katakuri.. is the purple natural.. or?”

“Nika above!” The metal side tray rattled as Dragon set down the tattoo gun. “I like him, for whatever reason he likes me! He actually gets along with Luffy and I don’t know! It’s just nice to have someone! How hard is that to understand?”

Shanks took a deliberate sip of his room temperature smoothie. “It’s not, we just all thought you and croc would get back together, that’s all.”

Dragon rolled his eyes, picking up his tattoo gun again. “Yeah well how long should I wait? It’s already been three years.” The hum of the machine purrs as the needle dips back into Shanks skin. “I- I can’t spend my life waiting for him to waltz through the door anymore, ok?”

(This was supposed to be more comedic I apologize)

Dragon can convince most people that he’s over it. That he’s cut his ties and moved on with his life. That he’s fine.

But Katakuri isn’t must people. Those mulberry colored eyes- purple like his, but in a different hue- don’t miss much. Sometimes they unnerve Dragon with just how much of him they can see.

They’d been on a little date. Nothing special, just a stay-at-home dinner and a movie night. They’d been getting ready to curl up on the couch and turn on the TV when Crocodile called, hissing and spitting like the tomcats that Dragon will sometimes hear fighting outside in the middle of the night.

Tonight of all nights…

He knew he probably should have let Crocodile know that he was dating again. With joint custody of Luffy, it was a fair thing for his ex to be angry over. But he and Katakuri had kind of just happened out of the blue. Even Dragon was still coming to terms with it.

“Do you even know how fucking psychotic that family is?” Crocodile growls, making the older man flinch on the other end of the line. There isn’t any way that Katakuri hadn’t heard that.

“I know you have issues with his mom, Hell, I do too, but Kata’s not like tha-…” Dragon can barely get a word in before Crocodile is ripping through his argument.

“Yes, I have a lot of issues with his mom, and I have issues with him, too! He bends over backwards for that hag, and you think he’s safe enough to bring around Luffy? I can’t fucking believe you!”

Without Crocodile there in the flesh, Dragon can’t read the body language. He can’t tell over the phone if the man’s anger is more from jealousy or concern. It really doesn’t help that his concern has always been aggressive.

“Wani, Luffy barely smiles anymore.” And that was the heart of the issue, wasn’t it? Luffy.

If it was just him and Crocodile, they would have had a few choice words and a bit of petty jealousy to throw around, but with Luffy… it complicated things.

“We keep fighting like this when we think he can’t hear, but he does. He always does… I can’t do that to him anymore.” Dragon is sure that somewhere on the other end of the line there might be little ears listening. Unless Daz has stepped in to get him away from all that. Dragon needs to hug the man’s neck the next time he sees him.

“And what makes you think you and that big bastard won’t start fighting the second his mother wants him to ditch you?” Crocodile hisses, though with far less fire than before.

“If that happens, I know he’ll at least give Luffy and I the decency to break it off quick and clean instead of… whatever the hell this is.” He was tired. So, so tired.

For a minute, he thinks Crocodile has ended the call or cut out form shitty reception or… something. But when he spoke again, it was in a tone he had heard only rarely.

Soft. Vulnerable. Every barrier broken down and cleared away. Defenseless as the day Dragon had first told him he loved him.

“Does he treat Luffy well?”

Dragon feels his heart breaking all over again.

“He makes Luffy smile and laugh like you did.”