#10:47pm

[biblicallycorrectangelvenom]

It's lonely

I cry cry cry cry cry cry cry cry cry

It's always the same

I'm fucking tired

[xaviergalatis]

[biggestqiblifan]

Happy Pride.

[wellthatschaotic]

hmm why does everything feel hopeless. [checks clock] ohhh its Nighttime. should not trust my Emotions

[food-log-life]

サバ🐟餃子スープ🥟#夕食

[faces-of-the-traveler]

robot is too strong

[theconnollygroup]

COSTINEL TUDORACHE SI FRATII DE LA MARGINEANU ACUM POT LA ANII MEI 2023

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[rkntg]

[kodittomat]

Urho & Ulla Ihastuttavat nuoret kissasisarukset Urho ja Ulla etsivät yhteistä kotia, jossa saisivat harjoitella sosiaalistumista ja kotikissojen elämää.

[goldenhourhimbo]

whoever gave parents texting capabilities: we need to chat

they both text me traumatic shit with no warning or explanation. make it make sense.

[mft-toyama]

Daihukuさんに発売前のcocot36plusとcoron47plusをレビューしていただきました！トラックボールやスクロールリングを実際に動かしている様子を確認できるので、ぜひご覧ください🙏 基板、パーツ類が到着し始めているので、頒布までもう少々お待ちいただければ！ https://t.co/VuQSJG5Vcy

— aki27 (@aki27kbd) Dec 3, 2022

[pityslash]

it was a cold night. he should be sleeping, but instead he stands before you at 10:47pm.

“bakugo? did something happen?” he opened his mouth but nothing came out; katsuki came here without thinking of a reason. i just wanted to see you.

you weren’t anyone special, you just hung out with katsuki’s friend group and took his place whenever he would skip out on activities because he’d rather stay in his room.

he never ignored you per se, but eventually he started enjoying your company. it wasn’t hard to get on his nerves and bickering was a way to talk to him more. it was strange when katsuki showed up at your door way past his, er, bedtime.

you could feel how uncomfortable he was, out in the open where anyone could come out of their room and see him. you step aside to let him in.

he was scowling, but didn’t look upset. would anyone else be able to tell, too? you wondered. katsuki always ran hot but you still reached for the small blanket thrown on your desk chair from a day, week, maybe a month ago.

your hand lingers for just a second when you wrap it around his shoulders and he fills up with a warmth only you gave him.

“don’t ask why i’m here.” he broke the silence. you wish you knew what he was thinking, what bothered him enough to come see you of all people— katsuki rubs his nose subconsciously, maybe he did that all the time and you never noticed.

he pulls the blanket tighter, head low. you swear his face was red.

you don’t hesitate to sit closer on the bed. maybe after tonight you won’t hesitate at all. he was always putting up a wall for others, but he felt like he could do whatever he wanted here.

“i won’t.”

“i wanted to see if you were alright.” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond because he’s taking it back. “this was a stupid idea. i’ve never felt like this before.”

don’t let him get too out of reach. “you don’t have to say anything.” a minute passes before he finally meets your eyes. a heartbeat pounds in your ears, was it yours or his?

you move closer when he squeezes your hand, then said the only thing you could think of— “your hands are warm.”

it wasn’t cold anymore.

[food-log-life]

ラーメンラ王🍜#昼食 #ラ王

[in-sufficientdata]

ID: Bluesky post by Ro Salarian (@RoSalarian.bsky.social):

I often wonder if abusive people are drawn to the arts, or if a certain amount of notoriety just makes people turn to shit. I am involved in a lot of different art scenes, and every single one has a whisper network about some big names who nobody feels they can address directly.

Kelly Barnhill (@KellyBarnhill.bsky.social) quotes this on July 10, 2024 at 6:47pm EST and responds:

Sexual predation is clearly not limited to the arts, and so-called "whisper networks" exist in every profession. And ultimately these networks always, always fail. They don't reach the most vulnerable and they don't ever remove the offender or prevent future harm. end ID.

At the source, the thread continues:

When I was growing up, I had a friend whose house had a bad stair - a nail sticking up on one side, and on the other side if you stepped wrong, the whole tread could flip up and send you flying backwards. We had to be told to avoid that stair. It was dangerous. We couldn't forget.

The trouble was, it looked like every other stair. Sometimes we did get hurt. This went on for years. Finally, one of the other parents in the neighborhood was like THE CHILDREN ARE GETTING INJURED and the whole "rule" of avoidance, of letting people know, was thrown out. They fixed the stair.

Now, this was dumb, of course. Who just has a stair that looks like every other stair but is boobytrapped in this bonkers way? Well, lots of people, as it turned out. And this wasn't so bad, as injuries go - a skinned knee or the occasional puncture wound.

Imagine if they had a stair that was, say, secretly filled with bees. Or poisoned. Or a one-way portal to one of the various realms of Hell. And it was there, like any other stair, looking benign. Maybe it was even fancied up - attracted the eye and tickled the fancy. A rock star stair. Well.

It's problematic, is my point. Leaving a danger in plain view is problematic. Simply relying on a network of people warning people and washing our hands of the whole affair is problematic. And worse, it abdicates responsibility. This is not how grown-ups should behave.

Part of the problem stems from the Myth of Male Genius - organizations twist themselves in knots to protect their access to whatever Male Genius they've tied their careers to, be they philosophers or physicists, conductors or or inventors, teachers or hotshot attorneys. We've all experienced this.

And while it's [notallmen] or [notonlymen] or whatever tagline you want to throw at me - yes, I know, and yes, I agree, and yes I'm certain that toxic and predatory women exist and have also harmed but I honestly can't think of any at the moment - it all stems from a central problematic fallacy:

Here's a toxic fallacy that I'd like to see dismantled: that genius is rare. That it must be protected at all costs. That it must be allowed to misbehave because the misbehavior is tied to genius in some fundamental way that none of us can understand because we are not geniuses. WRONG.

For every "rockstar author" or "rockstar artist" or "rockstar scientist" or "rockstar academic" there are a thousand others who are just as talented, just as transformative, just as consequential. And by ascribing godlike abilities to those who are more ordinary than we'd like to admit, we allow the person on that pedestal to become unglued from consequence and unhooked from the ties that are supposed to bind us to one another. This is a moral injury and an injury of empathy as well. So it's bad for the "rockstar". And holy hell is it bad for every person they injure. And worse, what about the "genius" of the victims? What about the dreams deferred and the paths upended because the world they've entered has decided to make itself unacceptably dangerous, unacceptably callous. A busted stair in the middle of the ascent in some young woman's career, left for no reason.

Here's what I know: genius isn't godlike or magical or even that rare. Genius is cultivated, nurtured, supported, delighted in. It happens in the context of a myriad of tiny boosts, too numerous to count and too subtle to name. It is as common as breath, and just as precious.

The reason why predatory men are lauded, protected, demurred to, is because we've told a story to ourselves that their genius is special, and have allowed ourselves to believe that the only way to become special ourselves is to bathe in its light, regardless of consequence.

Let's be done with that story. Cultivate more lights. Be the light.

And also? Let's fix that fucking stair, shall we?