I Dunno If Your Drawing Prompts Are Still Open So If They Aren’t Just Ignore This XD

One of the most interesting ways that Christocentrism rears it’s ugly head is when a Jewish person does something because of our religion and here come all the ex-xtian atheists to say “GOD DOESNT CARE IF YOU EAT PORK” or “YOURE NOT GONNA DIE IF YOU WORK ON SATURDAY”.

Like yeah, no shit. As a Jew I don’t fear god. I don’t think he is gonna impose consequences on me if I break his rules. That’s not how the relationship works.

If I do something because Jewish tradition says to, it’s because I’m honoring my community and keeping my culture alive. God doesn’t really enter the equation. He can have given us a rule, but if you know any Jews you know we have nine to eleven ways of following any rule and it depends on what suits us in the situation.

So if you slip a Jewish person trief to “show them” that nothing bad will happen to them, you are an asshole of the highest order and have fundamentally misunderstood the rule they’re seeking to follow.

Judaism does not include fear of God. It is a partnership with history and community and culture. And god can come, too, if he promises to be cool about it.

the whole guilt-tripping language in posts about important topics paired with how I'm still getting bitches in my notes talking about why it's actually good to tell "bad" people to kill themselves continues to prove to me that a lot of people have absolutely no concept of social justice or activism outside of assuming the worst of and then viciously attacking strangers on the internet

Summary: Near will beat Kira, for there was no other option. Asking the tarot cards wouldn't hurt, however.

Rating: G

Words: 3948

An expansive room, enshrouded by darkness, illuminated only by the numerous screens that covered the walls; and in the middle sat a boy, in the space the light didn’t reach, in a space that would have been empty had he not been there.

A boy called Near. As white as a ghost, sitting alone in a space so big and empty, it was almost as if he was in another world where only he existed.

To an outside observer, someone who didn’t understand the intricacy that was his mind, he might as well have been. He gave all the signs of someone stuck in their own little world with no regards to those around him. With eyes focused intently on the cards he was shuffling, a new deck of tarot cards that had yet to be used, over and over he shuffled them, as if nothing else mattered. Not once had he shown any sign of acknowledgement to the other people in the room; his subordinates.

Of course, the young detective saw no reason why he had to. Even though a good number of them had decided, for whatever reason, that watching him was more important than the tasks they have been given.

They were newly acquainted, after all, and none of them were truly bothering him.

The stares didn’t bother him. Those haven’t bothered him for a long time, not since his childhood. He wouldn’t find them bothersome so long as none of them decided to entrench upon his designated work area.

His self-designated work area, undeniably, but the headquarters were designed specifically to give Near the space he needed to work as effectively as possible. That was why the desks for the employees were all placed against the walls despite the vastness of the room.

His subordinates simply haven’t gotten used to the way he worked, and thus, didn’t understand. That was reasonable enough to Near. Even in Wammy’s House, among other geniuses, he was considered odd.

He knew that no one else needed a personal bubble as big as his to keep their mind clear, or be in a certain contorted position to keep their mind sharp, or always have something in their hands that was anything but the case files–or other paper documents for that matter–to stay focused. He knew that no one else who was visually capable needed to have information read to them in order for them to efficiently process the information. He knew that no one else used toys or other objects as visuals quite like he did, and he knew that they couldn’t comprehend said visuals he’d constructed the same way he did, despite how obvious they were in his mind.

The way he worked was unconventional, and Near knew that. But that was the way he worked best and the results he achieved spoke for themselves. In time, everyone who worked for him would have no issues with the way he did things. Just like those that he had worked with in the past. Just like a few of the agents here. Senior members who already worked with him before he had hired the rest of the elite members for the SPK.

The Special Provision for Kira; a group he had assembled himself, consisting of FBI and CIA agents, whose objective was to stop Kira, and put an end to his so-called reign. Now all they needed was the support of the President of the United States and they would officially become an organization. Most importantly, they would have access and control to every resource they could ever need for this investigation.

Near had worked tirelessly in order to get this far and he was confident that he and his team would catch Kira in due time.

Shuffling his cards for the twenty-second time, he positioned his hands in a way that was both calculated and practiced, and loosened his grip just enough so that they all rained down in front of him, and into a pool of cards. All faced down; just the way he wanted them to.

His subordinates, all of whom have decided some time ago that watching him do what he knew they saw as childish dilly-dallying was a waste of time, once again have their eyes on him. No doubt they were alerted by the sound of his cards landing on the floor. One of them even asked a colleague what he was doing. Whether it was curiosity or apprehension or disgust, he didn’t care enough to identify.

His gaze didn’t leave the cards. A hand reached out towards his hair on impulse, index finger twirling a lock in a motion that spoke of habit. He contemplated his next course of action. He could use them to build a construction of patterns that would expand into a magnificent fortress or castle or whatever else he chose.

Or he could use his tarot cards as intended.

Tarot cards were an interest of his that hadn’t truly surfaced until the beginning of the Kira Case. Long before that, he had chosen to study them on a whim, a knowledge sought out of boredom. It was a surprise that he found them fascinating; the fool’s journey, the different meanings of each card, the different spreads that told different things. They were nothing more than a passing amusement at the time. An interesting yet unimportant data, one of the few he had let himself indulge in. At most, he found them convenient to use as visual representations. Like his toys.

That is, until a case appeared where the most probable explanation for the murders was that it was supernatural in nature.

You can read the rest here :)

“Will I beat Kira?”

I decided to do a tarot card reading to help me with this. The question I actually asked was: Could you tell me which cards I should use for Near’s reading of “Will I beat Kira”?

The cards I got are so perfect, I honestly can’t believe how good it turned out!

See the reading below the cut

Heart of the Matter: Page of Pentacles

Challenge: Knight of Pentacles

Unconscious: Ten of Wands

Past: Five of Swords Reversed

Conscious: Seven of Pentacles

Future: Five of Cups Reversed

Querent: Four of Cups Reversed

Environment: Queen of Pentacles Reversed

Hopes and Fears: Ten of Pentacles

Outcome: Six of Cups

Yes

If you like the word “queer” reblog.

I’m crying because when my dad was eighteen he was going to join the airforce and then the night before he had a dream that Jesus slapped him in the face with a gigantic fish and asked him what he was doing and he woke up and thought, “Jesus is right what am I doing?” And that’s why my dad did not join the military. 

FINISHED!!!✨

Bill’s got legs!! I’m so so happy I finally finished this!!

Thank you to everyone who’s followed along with its progress!

Stanley Pines is basically holding onto the teenaged version of his brother.

That connection is strong enough that it only took two words to get him to drive all the way up to Oregon and then spend three decades trying to bring Ford back. That kind of dedication, that kind of inextinguishable hope, is astounding, and it is not the behavior of someone who blames Ford for closing the window on him, not at all.

So why, then, does Stan care so much? Because to him, Ford is just about the coolest person to exist. Not just because he's astoundingly smart and capable, but also because he was the only person who really cared about him.

There's a lot of talk about suspected physical abuse in the Pines household for the twins growing up, but I think there was a lot of neglect too. I think Ford and Stan really only had each other as kids. That is an intense connection.

For Ford, that connection terrifies him. Because Ford does not want to be that boy. That boy was scared and that boy got knocked around and had to hide behind his twin. That boy was weak and Stanford Pines is not weak, Stanford Pines is special and important and he's going to show the whole goddamn world.

But for Stan... that connection is the only thing that proves he was worth anything. So if his relationship with Ford isn't salvageable...

then is he worth anything at all?

Little 5 year old Dib finds herself in a prison cell with a red-eyed alien in chains. So of course she had to introduce herself!