#stupid word

[lifeisabitch-butimcute]

snippet time

i feel like it's been soooo long since a snippet game has gone around but i'm cookin up chapter 12 of rumspringa rn and i'm excited :)

“Oh, hey,” James mumbled, crumbs spraying out of his mouth. “Remus made beignets.” “Did you leave me any?” Sirius asked dryly. James pointed at a basket on the table. Steam rose up from the pile, and a jar of honey sat next to it.  “You told me one time I should try them with honey,” Remus said from behind him. “But I thought I should wait for you.” Sirius turned to stare dumbly at Remus, who was setting his hat on a hook by the door. His curls were flattened now, and he ruffled them as he walked up to the table, apparently oblivious to the whimper that slipped free from Sirius’ lips. James was not, and was doing a poor job of not looking like he was laughing at his friend (brother, Sirius had to keep reminding himself).  He watched helplessly as Remus reached for a beignet with one large, freckled hand and plopped it on a plate. When he looked up expectantly, Sirius rushed forward to take one of his own. Then Remus gestured to the honeypot. “From the bees,” he said with a small, proud smile.  “You have bees?” James asked nervously, casting a glance around as if the bees were hidden somewhere in the kitchen. 

Remus grinned. “Yeah, outside. Beekeeping is just one of that many duties that’s been forced on me this year.” “Why?” Sirius asked with a frown. Then, “I mean, why are they forcing you? Aren’t they about to let you do whatever you want for a year?” “To an extent,” Remus said easily, reaching for the honey wand. “They’re just getting me ready for when I come back after rumspringa.” “If.” Remus looked up from the honey that trailed lazily from the end of the wand down to the pastry on his plate. “Hm?” “If you decide to stay. You don’t have to. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Remus said carefully. “I guess I’ve just assumed I’ll be staying. Most people do.”

what's everyone working onnnn (no pressure ofc) - @moon-seas @just--vi @grossdyke @fruityindividual @rae-lune @shoopsthereitis @kaaaaaaarf @sugarsnappeases @ixekizumab @leavesthatarebrown @wannabelilybriscoe @foursaints

[iwannascreameurekaa]

everybodys got that one word that just cannot pronounce no matter how hard they try

mine is parallel. I hate it sm.

[estarts]

This is my Judgement boy avatar. This is shocked one that i bought it since today, I forgot to check it again.

And this is supposed to be freaky Judgement boy part 2. But I can’t put the word freaky because some reason i don’t think roblox will aloud with definition words from other players. So yeah but I still keeping the name DOGMANWackyart.

[rowanisawriter]

this what im going thru rn. if anyone gaf

[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.

[chaotic-artist928]

why is acknowledgment the hardest word ever to spell i had to copy paste it in here

[yukennico]

watched sonic prime in its entirety and im changing fandoms/hj

[lizleeships]

...Looks like Naomi's gotta go reset the brainwashing screwdriver again.

I'm almost positive someone has done this before (and loads better), but it's all I could think about during my recent Ignore-Reality-And-Watch-TV-Season 8 rewatch. To be fair, there are so many K-words. Cas could easily get confused with so many Deans around.

--------

My Patreon | My Ko-Fi

[lgbtqtext]

[frownyalfred]

in the realm of like, rich kid problems, I want to someday read/write a fic where Nightwing is slowly establishing himself as a full-fledged JL member and everyone is relieved because finally, there's a nice Bat on the Watchtower who doesn't just shoot down their plans and deny their mission requests. but. while Nightwing is kind, and polite, and charming in all the ways the Bat isn't, he's still Dick Grayson. and Dick Grayson grew up as a very rich kid's suddenly very rich kid, which is to say while Bruce might not take it personally, Dick has been fending off people almost his entire life who were trying to use him for his Dad's money. which is to say, I think once Nightwing is on board and the relationship between him and Batman is at least somewhat well-known, there is suddenly a rush of younger, less-experienced members trying to take advantage of Nightwing, mistaking that kindness and openness for willingness to either voluntarily, or involuntarily, infringe upon and cross Batman's clear-cut boundaries. bribing Dick for a better monitor shift with Batman is one thing (it doesn't really work, Dick can't bribe Bruce with much as it is) but trying to convince Nightwing to lie to Batman? to go against him? his dad? the man who pulled him up when he had nothing and gave him meaning again? that man?? and then comes the inevitable, chilling realization, that while Nightwing might wear a different mask, might wear an open smile on the Watchtower and with friends off-shift, there are some lines he won't cross, same as Bruce. he won't, sure as the sun rises and the rot rolls off the Gotham Harbor in the morning.

[sunflowershark]

“broken builds” this. “use the orb” that. you fools. the true best strategy to beat honour mode is to encourage safer and smarter decisions throughout your adventure by roleplaying as none other than faerun’s central authority on occupational safety and workplace accident prevention legislation

[zorangezest]

Are you planning on drawing more wholesome/slice of life stuff for the Don’t Do This Dad au cause I ate that last one up it was so good

ha ha! The depths.of my insanity

[shepscapades]

I hope you’re happy, I hope you’re happy now /ref

[prokopetz]

If you please, reblog with your favourite random encounter/event/complication/whatever table entry from any tabletop RPG you've read.

Currently mine (from the random hangover table in Josh McCrowell's His Majesty the Worm):

You wake up with a wedding ring on a finger. It's not your finger.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

aroace sonic: *says the most flirty shit ever* also aroace sonic seconds later: *does a backflip of the couch and almost lands on his face* literally anyone: wtf.

He’s got the range

(Aroace Sonic compliments pt 4)

[dangeroustaintedflawed]