#I need to take a walk

[josephtrohman]

the rammys that folie is the first album in their discography that fob has now played live in its entirety...

[jonsaremembers]

that was like. boncas level loud

[pdouwes]

an update from willemijn

[stitch-me-not]

Sitting here clutching my pearls like some Victorian maiden at how Kant full on sunk his fingers into Bison's thigh when he grabbed it like that jfc

[quick-catton]

new barry sparring video ohhhh god

[kairithemang0]

I require Curt to pace around his hotel room at lightning speed because being in one room is killing him while Owen is drinking a glass of wine and reading meanwhile Curt's practically ripping his hair out because he has nothing to do and Owen's reading, but he doesn't want to disturb him but he also REALLY WANTS TO DISTURB HIM so Owen finally looks up from his book and Curt's fucking gnawing on his shirt and Owen's like "jesus fucking christ Mega are you that desperate?" and then Curt punches him in the face because my man needs to take a walk and get fresh air and not sit in a damn hotel room for hours

[moonshynecybin]

okay normal now (<-lying)

[ficklesprite]

Daddy duo has entered the chat

Close ups under the cut oml what have I done-

[manjjiros]

“Crying. Begging. Tomato tomato.”

Sanzu finally grown slightly. “Well if you’re working get me a drink then. Whiskey neat. Double shot.”

“You know I have some sway here babe. I do who I want, when I want, wherever I want and your owner wouldn’t bat an eye.”

His smirk drifts across his lips as he brings his cigarette back. “I could come behind that bar and put my tongue wherever I want on that pretty body and no one would say a thing.”

-Sanzu

they sighed, knowing they didn’t really have much of a choice other than to serve him his drink. they turned to grab a chilled glass from the cooler under the counter, but practically dropped it while listening to him ramble.

“i’m sure the patrons wouldn’t be too happy about it.” well, that was a stretch, considering the energy in the casino and bar was always tipping into uncharted territory. “and my boss — not my owner — wouldn’t be too happy about you distracting me from my job.”

he finished pouring his double shot and placed it on a napkin to keep wet rings off the bar top. “shut your mouth, sanzu. i’ve had just about enough of you tonight. you give me a headache.”

[sasukethehermit]

just saw someone say "the racism towards the uchiha wasn't that bad" as if they weren't literally killed off in a state-sanctioned genocide

[levinbolts]

oh god….dion….

[jmkho]

Josh doing that approaching scream note in TWOD at Red Rock will NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME ASCEND TO THE FUCKING MOON

[liverpool-enjoyer]

was it worth it??? did those seven minutes of extra stress bring you joy??

[chaotic-on-main]

me in the middle of battle trying to write this scene

[the-amazing-boop]

Alright I've survived heartstopper (barely). I think I can manage good omens s2 now (doubtful).

Fuck, August is going to be my end. No one look at me until the 20th.

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.