#I don't want to be in that blast radius

[thatswhatsushesaid]

great job on probably not failing your first group project (unless you signed up for jin zixun or wen chao's respective groups I guess). if only university professors were kind enough not to assign each of us multiple group projects each semester! if only.

also, you can't join the same group twice. you know what that means. so:

same deal as last time, put your rationale for your preferred group in the tags if you feel so compelled.

[festivalfoxes]

'psychosis is good because it is So Much feeling and experience' 'psychosis is bad because of the random fears' 'psychosis is complicated because it's probably some kind of underpinning of how my brain works and therefore it's difficult to identify how much would change without it but also i would like never again to be stuck in a relationship i'm convinced is some kind of metaphorical but also Very Real time travel wherein if i can finally please this shitty other person i will have Proven and Created something about my own life'

[puts these in a blender] [bottles it] [sticks a burning rag in it and then immediately smashes it on the ground at my feet]

[humanjeff]

a tiny problem

this probably hasn't made the news in other countries - huge mining company Rio Tinto managed to lose this little capsule (8 x 6 mm) somewhere in West Australia:

it's caesium-137, the stuff that has made Chernobyl uninhabitable, and you don't want to be standing within 5-10 meters of it, because it's blasting out beta and gamma rays. you REALLY don't want to pick it up, because it'll give you radiation burns.

what's nuts is it seems to have somehow escaped from its "secure" container and fallen out of a bolt hole while being transported, and then nobody noticed for TWO WEEKS.

anyway there are fire fighters on their sixth day of scouring 1,400 km (!) of desert road right now, but it's so small that it may never be found (I think the detection radius with the equipment they're using is maybe 20m). it's so small that it could have stuck in a car's tire treads, or been picked up by an unfortunate bird or other wildlife. it has a half-life of 30 years, which means it'll be dangerously radioactive for centuries.

it's just an incredible fuckup on so many levels.

[beefcakekinard]

top 5 times tommy kinard was husband-shaped

turns out i've got opinions about this.

5. attending a cowboy funeral (8x05)

you don't watch your beboiled boyfriend give a eulogy to a 200-year-old cowboy mummy in a full suit if you're not in it for the long haul. this is a show of commitment on the same level as promise rings.

4. getting that coffee (7x05)

who but a future husband would look at buck like this after being caught in the blast radius of his self-destruction on a first date?

3. bringing buck breakfast 'in bed' (8x05)

8x05 gave and gave and gave with acts of service tommy. you just know he set his alarm early enough so he knew he'd be up before buck, and he set his phone to vibrate so buck wouldn't hear it. he spoils his man and i love to see it.

2. taking care of buck (8x05)

fluffing his pillow (not a euphemism). changing his ice pack. sleeping on the couch with the smallest blanket in the world just so he'd be right there in case buck needed something in the middle of the night. related to the last entry, but disinct enough to deserve its own mention.

1. the loft dinner (7x10)

look. this is it for me. this is the moment that made me go oh. he is husband-shaped. i think this moment in particular gets overlooked because it immediately precedes tommy giving buck the green light to call him daddy, but look how soft he is! how concerned and caring - how attentive, to notice that buck was feeling off! this moment is unbeatable to me, but if the writers want to take that as a challenge, well, i certainly won't stop them.

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

I made mention of this a few posts ago, but here is a full reminder from Auntie Kami, fiber artist:

It is that time of year, folks, when the fiber artists in your life need you the most. It matters not what holiday you celebrate; there are fiber artists who are, as we speak, insisting I AM GOING TO MAKE ALL THE GIFTS BECAUSE STORE-BOUGHT SUCKS. They have pre-purchased their season pass for the train to Crazy Town, and it is not round trip.

If you want to take care of the fiber artist in your life during this most manic time of year, lemme offer some suggestions:

DO:

Make sure they eat and stay hydrated. Making sure they eat an actual meal is best, but any food works at this point. Also, remind them that water exists and it isn't just to make coffee/tea.

Offer a listening ear and support when they start convulsively crying because they found a major mistake and have to undo two weeks worth of work. Although, I also suggest retreating out of the initial blast radius to avoid being collateral damage. A usual sign it is safe to approach is when they stop flailing and the flying debris of tools and fiber have settled.

Remind them to get up and stretch and walk around. Even if it's to make more coffee/tea. In fact, it is suggested you do not make those beverages for them because it is a good excuse for them to move around as they most likely have forgotten they have legs.

Remind them to sleep

DO NOT:

Suggest they set smaller goals. Yes, it makes sense, and They KNOW it makes sense, but they will still assume you are silly for even suggesting such an idea. (Don't push it. You will only piss them off.)

Refer to what they are working on as "grandma craft". Even If they are a grandma. It is dismissive of the time and effort and money they are lovingly putting into their projects, and they will, in return, dismiss your reason for living.

EVER NEVER FOR ANY REASON AT ALL say, "You can get it cheaper at Walmart." You at that point don't just forfeit your life, you forfeit your existence in their life. You will be vaporized from their memory. You just suggested their art, their craft, their effort is lesser than fucking Walmart. You want a quick way to oblivion, then by all be this crass and demeaning. I just won't guarantee it will be painless.

Thank you for your support.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Apple fucked us on right to repair (again)

Today (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tonight, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

Right to repair has no cannier, more dedicated adversary than Apple, a company whose most innovative work is dreaming up new ways to sneakily sabotage electronics repair while claiming to be a caring environmental steward, a lie that covers up the mountains of e-waste that Apple dooms our descendants to wade through.

Why does Apple hate repair so much? It's not that they want to poison our water and bodies with microplastics; it's not that they want to hasten the day our coastal cities drown; it's not that they relish the human misery that accompanies every gram of conflict mineral. They aren't sadists. They're merely sociopathically greedy.

Tim Cook laid it out for his investors: when people can repair their devices, they don't buy new ones. When people don't buy new devices, Apple doesn't sell them new devices. It's that's simple:

https://www.inverse.com/article/52189-tim-cook-says-apple-faces-2-key-problems-in-surprising-shareholder-letter

So Apple does everything it can to monopolize repair. Not just because this lets the company gouge you on routine service, but because it lets them decide when your phone is beyond repair, so they can offer you a trade-in, ensuring both that you buy a new device and that the device you buy is another Apple.

There are so many tactics Apple gets to use to sabotage repair. For example, Apple engraves microscopic Apple logos on the subassemblies in its devices. This allows the company to enlist US Customs to seize and destroy refurbished parts that are harvested from dead phones by workers in the Pacific Rim:

https://repair.eu/news/apple-uses-trademark-law-to-strengthen-its-monopoly-on-repair/

Of course, the easiest way to prevent harvested components from entering the parts stream is to destroy as many old devices as possible. That's why Apple's so-called "recycling" program shreds any devices you turn over to them. When you trade in your old iPhone at an Apple Store, it is converted into immortal e-waste (no other major recycling program does this). The logic is straightforward: no parts, no repairs:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

Shredding parts and cooking up bogus trademark claims is just for starters, though. For Apple, the true anti-repair innovation comes from the most pernicious US tech law: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA).

DMCA 1201 is an "anti-circumvention" law. It bans the distribution of any tool that bypasses "an effective means of access control." That's all very abstract, but here's what it means: if a manufacturer sticks some Digital Rights Management (DRM) in its device, then anything you want to do that involves removing that DRM is now illegal – even if the thing itself is perfectly legal.

When Congress passed this stupid law in 1998, it had a very limited blast radius. Computers were still pretty expensive and DRM use was limited to a few narrow categories. In 1998, DMCA 1201 was mostly used to prevent you from de-regionalizing your DVD player to watch discs that had been released overseas but not in your own country.

But as we warned back then, computers were only going to get smaller and cheaper, and eventually, it would only cost manufacturers pennies to wrap their products – or even subassemblies in their products – in DRM. Congress was putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I, and it was bound to go off in Act III.

Welcome to Act III.

Today, it costs about a quarter to add a system-on-a-chip to even the tiniest parts. These SOCs can run DRM. Here's how that DRM works: when you put a new part in a device, the SOC and the device's main controller communicate with one another. They perform a cryptographic protocol: the part says, "Here's my serial number," and then the main controller prompts the user to enter a manufacturer-supplied secret code, and the master controller sends a signed version of this to the part, and the part and the system then recognize each other.

This process has many names, but because it was first used in the automotive sector, it's widely known as VIN-Locking (VIN stands for "vehicle identification number," the unique number given to every car by its manufacturer). VIN-locking is used by automakers to block independent mechanics from repairing your car; even if they use the manufacturer's own parts, the parts and the engine will refuse to work together until the manufacturer's rep keys in the unlock code:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

VIN locking is everywhere. It's how John Deere stops farmers from fixing their own tractors – something farmers have done literally since tractors were invented:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

It's in ventilators. Like mobile phones, ventilators are a grotesquely monopolized sector, controlled by a single company Medtronic, whose biggest claim to fame is effecting the world's largest tax inversion in order to manufacture the appearance that it is an Irish company and therefore largely untaxable. Medtronic used the resulting windfall to gobble up most of its competitors.

During lockdown, as hospitals scrambled to keep their desperately needed supply of ventilators running, Medtronic's VIN-locking became a lethal impediment. Med-techs who used donor parts from one ventilator to keep another running – say, transplanting a screen – couldn't get the device to recognize the part because all the world's civilian aircraft were grounded, meaning Medtronic's technicians couldn't swan into their hospitals to type in the unlock code and charge them hundreds of dollars.

The saving grace was an anonymous, former Medtronic repair tech, who built pirate boxes to generate unlock codes, using any housing they could lay hands on to use as a case: guitar pedals, clock radios, etc. This tech shipped these gadgets around the world, observing strict anonymity, because Article 6 of the EUCD also bans circumvention:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again

Of course, Apple is a huge fan of VIN-locking. In phones, VIN-locking is usually called "serializing" or "parts-pairing," but it's the same thing: a tiny subassembly gets its own microcontroller whose sole purpose is to prevent independent repair technicians from fixing your gadget. Parts-pairing lets Apple block repairs even when the technician uses new, Apple parts – but it also lets Apple block refurb parts and third party parts.

For many years, Apple was the senior partner and leading voice in blocking state Right to Repair bills, which it killed by the dozen, leading a coalition of monopolists, from Wahl (who boobytrap their hair-clippers with springs that cause their heads irreversibly decompose if you try to sharpen them at home) to John Deere (who reinvented tenant farming by making farmers tenants of their tractors, rather than their land).

But Apple's opposition to repair eventually became a problem for the company. It's bad optics, and both Apple customers and Apple employees are volubly displeased with the company's ecocidal conduct. But of course, Apple's management and shareholders hate repair and want to block it as much as possible.

But Apple knows how to Think Differently. It came up with a way to eat its cake and have it, too. The company embarked on a program of visibly support right to repair, while working behind the scenes to sabotage it.

Last year, Apple announced a repair program. It was hilarious. If you wanted to swap your phone's battery, all you had to do was let Apple put a $1200 hold on your credit card, and then wait while the company shipped you 80 pounds' worth of specialized tools, packed in two special Pelican cases:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/22/apples-cement-overshoes/

Then, you swapped your battery, but you weren't done! After your battery was installed, you had to conference in an authorized Apple tech who would tell you what code to type into a laptop you tethered to the phone in order to pair it with your phone. Then all you had to do was lug those two 40-pound Pelican cases to a shipping depot and wait for Apple to take the hold off your card (less the $120 in parts and fees).

By contrast, independent repair outfits like iFixit will sell you all the tools you need to do your own battery swap – including the battery! for $32. The whole kit fits in a padded envelope:

https://www.ifixit.com/products/iphone-x-replacement-battery

But while Apple was able to make a showy announcement of its repair program and then hide the malicious compliance inside those giant Pelican cases, sabotaging right to repair legislation is a lot harder.

Not that they didn't try. When New York State passed the first general electronics right-to-repair bill in the country, someone convinced New York Governor Kathy Hochul to neuter it with last-minute modifications:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/12/weakened-right-to-repair-bill-is-signed-into-law-by-new-yorks-governor/

But that kind of trick only works once. When California's right to repair bill was introduced, it was clear that it was gonna pass. Rather than get run over by that train, Apple got on board, supporting the legislation, which passed unanimously:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/79902/apples-u-turn-tech-giant-finally-backs-repair-in-california

But Apple got the last laugh. Because while California's bill contains many useful clauses for the independent repair shops that keep your gadgets out of a landfill, it's a state law, and DMCA 1201 is federal. A state law can't simply legalize the conduct federal law prohibits. California's right to repair bill is a banger, but it has a weak spot: parts-pairing, the scourge of repair techs:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/69320/how-parts-pairing-kills-independent-repair

Every generation of Apple devices does more parts-pairing than the previous one, and the current models are so infested with paired parts as to be effectively unrepairable, except by Apple. It's so bad that iFixit has dropped its repairability score for the iPhone 14 from a 7 ("recommend") to a 4 (do not recommend):

https://www.ifixit.com/News/82493/we-are-retroactively-dropping-the-iphones-repairability-score-en

Parts-pairing is bullshit, and Apple are scum for using it, but they're hardly unique. Parts-pairing is at the core of the fuckery of inkjet printer companies, who use it to fence out third-party ink, so they can charge $9,600/gallon for ink that pennies to make:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Parts-pairing is also rampant in powered wheelchairs, a heavily monopolized sector whose predatory conduct is jaw-droppingly depraved:

https://uspirgedfund.org/reports/usp/stranded

But if turning phones into e-waste to eke out another billion-dollar stock buyback is indefensible, stranding people with disabilities for months at a time while they await repairs is so obviously wicked that the conscience recoils. That's why it was so great when Colorado passed the nation's first wheelchair right to repair bill last year:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

California actually just passed two right to repair bills; the other one was SB-271, which mirrors Colorado's HB22-1031:

https://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/billNavClient.xhtml?bill_id=202320240SB271

This is big! It's momentum! It's a start!

But it can't be the end. When Bill Clinton signed DMCA 1201 into law 25 years ago, he loaded a gun and put it on the nation's mantlepiece and now it's Act III and we're all getting sprayed with bullets. Everything from ovens to insulin pumps, thermostats to lightbulbs, has used DMCA 1201 to limit repair, modification and improvement.

Congress needs to rid us of this scourge, to let us bring back all the benefits of interoperability. I explain how this all came to be – and what we should do about it – in my new Verso Books title, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

Image: Mitch Barrie (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Daytona_Skeleton_AR-15_completed_rifle_%2817551907724%29.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

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kambanji (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/kambanji/4135216486/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

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Rawpixel (modified) https://www.rawpixel.com/image/12438797/png-white-background

[inbabylontheywept]

i have picked the gel polish off my nails

every time i do this it annihilates my nails. they become hideous. scratched all over. damaged. blasted into ruins.

i have done this before. i am well aware of the consequences.

why do i keep doing this, you ask?

why does a lion hunt? why does a mosquito bite people? why does a meteorite fall to the earth?

it was meant to do this. a lion's destiny is that of carnage. a mosquito's destiny is that of pestilence and annoyance. a meteorite's destiny is that of discovering how the earth reacts when a space-rock flings itself at it.

and my destiny is to destroy my nails and make every manicurist in a fifty mile radius weep uncontrollably.

this has been in my inbox for a week while i tried to make a response. and i still don't have one but i love you anon and i want you to write more weird dramatic rants at me.

[drdemonprince]

Oh I love gender talk. If we have a patriarchal society, what’s like. The point of having men if we want to overturn it? So many ideals of What It Means To Be A Man seem to boil down to “don’t have traits that patriarchal society has deemed womanly” — so if being a man exists mainly in Not Being A Woman, then how can we like. Have men? In a non-patriarchal society? What does it mean for potential future gender systems if the existing power structure necessitates that manliness come from exerting power (esp over others)? Why not just like. Not have men anymore. Am I missing something essential here? I feel like I must be missing something

how exactly do you propose that we don't have men?

My argument would be that the coercive gendering of all infants is the real big bad here. Even I don't want to force parents not to gender their kids though. Like it or not, gender is a really important part of a variety of people's cultures and identities, and I don't believe in authoritarianism or fascism. So like. how do you think we just make there not be men? Especially without hurting any trans people in the blast radius.

[ede917]

I'm on an incorrect quotes kick.

Seviathon: I met your girlfriend the other day. What does she have that I don't?

Charlie: Me.

Angel Dust: I can't get off to Husk anymore! I mean, look. Don't they say when you really like someone you can't jerk it to them? That's how you know it's serious!

Alastor: I didn't need to hear that.

Charlie after Alastor protects the hotel: Everyone give praise to our violent savior! *Starts singing*

Alastor: No! None of that! Shame on you!

Alastor: I see the suffering of lesser beings and it . . . upsets me. Deeply.

Charlie: Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing?

Chaggie: Alastor! Marry us!

Alastor bleeding to death while fighting Adam: I'm a little busy at the moment!

Alastor struggling with his growing empathy: You don't understand, I'm not supposed to feel this way!

Husk choking on his leash: gahahahdjdksfj

Cherri looking at the death ray: What's the blast radius on that bitch?

Sir Pentious pulling the lever: YES!

Charlie: You are the woman of my dreams!

Vaggie: You are everything I have ever wanted!

Alastor: Are you serious right now? Right in front of my salad?

Molly: Dad said he loves us all equally.

Angel Dust: Well you know how much Dad likes jokes.

Arackniss: Which is why he had you last, punchline!

[artemismoorea03]

DPxMarvel: Phantom Incoming

Tony has a secret.

One he hasn't told any other Avengers, one he kept as far from SHIELD as possible, and a little ace up his sleeve incase shit ever hit the fan. Part of him wanted nothing more than to show off his secret, to brag about what he had found and make sure they knew that this Ace was his. But he also knew this 'Ace' was a kid - a kid younger than even Spiderman with the weight of a whole dimension and a town on his shoulders. Tony didn't need to bother him or show him off like some kind of award when the team still gave him shit about having Spiderman around.

But then shit hit the fan.

A fight. A massive fight with casualities everywhere. They were running out of options, running out of fight, running out of give.

Tony sounded the alarm for Phantom then sighed.

"Hey, uh... Phantom Incoming."

"Phantom? What the hell? Who is Phantom? What is Phantom?" Hawkeye started asking.

"Don't ask questions, Barton just get the hell away from the middle of the fight, all of you."

"Oh god it's a weapon. It's a super weapon. You're going to kill us all." Spiderman grumbled anxiously as Tony watched the trackers on the members of his team indicate that they were quickly leaving the area.

"What is the blast radius on this?" Black Widow was quick to ask.

"Yes." Tony said which wasn't reassuring to anybody.

The shift in the air was instant and tony silently hoped that he'd given the team enough warning as a portal ripped open in the middle of the battle field and a wave of green shot out. Enemies were toppled, trees were uprooted and frantic voices could be heard all around them.

Tony opened his mask, seeing a small white haired figure in the middle. "KID! YOU'RE CLEAR! IF THEY'RE NOT IN SPANDEX THEY'RE NOT OUR FRIENDS!" He shouted then flew off.

The echoed wail that followed seconds later while the rest of the team watched from a safe distance as the enemy was taken down (but not killed, Phantom wouldn't kill anybody if he could help it which did mean clean up would be a hassle).

"Now I know what you meant when you said the blast radius is 'yes'." Hawkeye said as the rest of the team nodded.

[thewertsearch]

Now that’s the Slick I know.

Yes! Fuck that puppet up!

I love that Slick's clearly still living in the low-stakes world of the Intermission. He doesn't know or care about demons, cueballs or First Guardians. All he sees is the Felt's number two - and he knows exactly how to deal with a rival gang.

Jack. Slick? Which would you prefer I call you? It's one of the strange points of uncertainty which surrounds you. Maybe it is that you don't particularly care. [...] Not going to tell me? Fine, I won't tell you my name either. Well, I might. If you would just show some manners and stop hitting me with that ridiculous horse hitcher. I won't crack no matter how senseless the drubbing.

I do not want to see that cueball crack. You just know Lil Cal's head is hiding right underneath.

You're not going to stop, are you. It will be very difficult to discuss our points of mutual interest like this.

You've got some 'mutual interests', eh?

I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're referring to.

Or, more specifically, who you're referring to.

Scratch must be planning to sic Spades on his former Queen, in order to trigger English's summoning ritual. I don’t know why he doesn’t just kill her himself, but maybe First Guardians aren’t allowed to attack their own universes. That's certainly a safeguard I'd install, If I were designing an omnipotent, free-willed game character.

To be honest, I think Doc might have some trouble convincing Slick to kill Snowman. I mean, sure, he hates her, and certainly wants her dead - but he had the opportunity to kill her in the Intermission, and ceased gunplay like everyone else. He probably knew that killing her in Alternia's universe would kill him, too.

Maybe that's Scratch's plan - he's going to give Slick a way to kill Snowman from outside her metaphysical blast radius. Perhaps he has a way for Slick to attack her from the Furthest Ring?

Do you have anything at all to say? Any form of communication you care to attempt beyond the sound iron makes against my head repeatedly? No, of course not.

Respect. The only winning move with this motherfucker is not to play.

[starsfic]

Grandpa and Great-Uncle AU: The Beginning

Summary: An hour after Shermie agrees to go to Gravity Falls, his son asks him to take his grandchildren.

AO3/ Ko-Fi

-_-

An hour after he hung up the phone, it rang again.

"Hello?" Shermie said. He wondered if it was Stanley, wanting to hammer out some last details or canceling the plans. "This is Shermie-"

"Uh, hey dad," Mark didn't sound as steady as he usually did. In fact, he sounded on the verge of tears. Shermie straightened up, concern rising. Mark calling upset was so common by now that his back didn't hurt after two years. "Uh, it's Mark... something happened..."

Ah, shit. With the state of his son's marriage, Shermie had to guess. "Did you or Ariel leave with the kids?"

"No," His daughter-in-law spoke up, her voice muffled. There was a sob in her voice that made Shermie want to hang up and drive over. However, it was ten in the evening and Piedmont was an hour away. "I fucked up and I said something really nasty to Mark and Mason..." There was the faint sound of her blowing her nose. "Mason overheard me saying something nasty about him and Mabel to Mark."

Oh. Oh boy.

"This is why I told you-"

"I know, Dad," Mark said before Shermie could start on again about marriage counseling and divorce. Everyone in the family knew that this relationship was a ticking bomb that would hurt the twins. "We know. That's why we called."

"We were hoping that you could take them for the summer," Ariel said, sounding much calmer now. "We don't want them to get caught up in the middle of us being shitty about each other." The foul language made Shermie raise a brow, but he stayed silent. At least they were taking responsibility and getting the twins out of the blast radius. "I- We know it's a lot to ask..."

"But, I would say yes," Shermie had to interrupt. "But I'm actually staying the summer with Uncle Stanley."

There was a pause. "Really?" Mark said, sounding baffled. "I thought he didn't want any of us visiting because of how dangerous the supernatural stuff could be." That decision had been made after the one and only visit to Gravity Falls that Mark had when he was three and nearly got abducted by fairies. It hadn't solely been Stan's decision, but Shermie had agreed.

"He...He said he needed backup because of how old he's getting and how busy the Shack is, plus how the portal's coming along," Shermie tried not to tremble at the memory of Stanley's voice, thick with so much regret and anguish that he was tempted to drive to where Filbrick was buried and smash his gravestone. "But, he's not doing well mentally. He didn't say it, but I know he's having a hard time, especially with how long it's been." It would be thirty years tomorrow. "I'm going to go to see what I can do, if I can maybe talk him into walking away."

Probably not, but he had to try. Stanford Pines wasn't worth this.

"Maybe the twins might help?" Ariel said, interrupting his thoughts. "You know how excited he got when he visited them in the hospital."

Oh, yeah. At the memory of Stan's elbow in his face, his nose ached.

But Stan had been delighted when he realized that there was a second pair of twins in the family. Shermie's favorite picture was of him holding the twins, their mom hugging him.

"I'll have to ask him. Give me a second." He hung up and his fingers trembled as he typed in Stan's number. Shermie wasn't sure if it was hope or anxiety, but he held his breath as it rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stanley, um...Here's the thing. Mark and Ariel want Mason and Mabel out of the house during the summer," Shermie said, trying not to panic as he said it all in one breath. "I told them that I was going to be visiting you and Ariel suggested I take them with me to-"

SMASH.

Shermie jolted at the noise, dropping the phone. He scrambled to grab it, his heart racing at an uncomfortable rate. "Stanley?!"

"Sure, bring them!" There was another smash. "I've missed the little gremlins. I can take them fishing." Another smash. "I didn't really get to do that with Mark when he visited."

"What are you smashing?"

"Oh, my beer." There was a thump. "Anyway, let me know when you guys are coming. I have to set up the attic and find the spare bedroom and find my cigars." And with that, the line went dead. Shermie blinked before he started dialling Mark's number.

Well, that was a hell of a yes.

"Hello? Dad?"

"He said yes."

[bullet-prooflove]

ATF!Series Part Three: Hell or Highwater

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators benny kkkelpies-shed

ATF Series:

Part One: A Rabbit You Don't Want To Chase - Stahl makes an unwelcome return to David's life.

Part Two: Fucked - Stahl fucks up you entire life in pursuit of Jax Teller.

You’ve been in a custody for five hours by the time David’s finally allowed to see you. Four hours of that has consisted of you sitting silently in an interrogation room listening to Stahl tell you how fucked you are.

And yea, she’s right, you are pretty fucked.

Your entire life it’s crumbling down around you and all you can feel is this crushing, desolate numbness because those hopes you had, those dreams they’re gone. Every single one of them.

You think about that as you lie on a musty mattress in a chilly cell. You think about what Jax Teller has done to you, what he continues to do to you. He has no direct involvement with you but the ripples of that time you spent together still resonate through your life.

This is what David means when he talks about Jax's blast radius.

Jax Teller is a nuclear bomb, his toxicity seeping into everything he touches. His poison, it salts the earth leaving no space for anything else to grow and you, you  just have to sit here and absorb the damage.

“The light giving you a headache?” David asks as he leans in the doorway of the cell block. It’s Tuesday evening and you’re the only one in attendance, your arm is draped over your eyes trying to ward off the glow from the fluorescent. You have that metallic taste on your tongue. The one that usually comes just as the migraine starts to set in.

You don’t answer him, you can’t because the moment you do David will know exactly how broken you are right now you can’t stand the idea of anyone seeing that.

The light clicks off and you swallow past the well of emotion that’s building in your chest because David, he always knows exactly what you need. You hear his footsteps, the squeak of his boots as he comes to linger outside your cell. You hear his sigh before he sits down on the floor, his back against the cinderblocks. His elbows come to rest on his knees as his head tips back and his eyes close.

You’re in for the night and so is he.

The distance it seems to stretch between you, he feels the weight of it in the air as he plays through the past couple of hours in his head. The phone calls he’s made to the San Franisco Art Institute trying to undo all the nasty shit that Stahl has done to you. He’d begged for them to change their minds but that placement is gone, they don’t want a criminal influencing the other students. He’d slammed down the phone so hard, the plastic had cracked on the receiver.

“She told me you fucked her today.” You say quietly and his blood runs cold because it isn’t enough that Stahl has taken away your prospects, she has to try and take him too. “That you came inside her, it seemed important to her that I know that.”

He understands the significance. For Stahl their relationship was about power, about proving she had it and he didn’t. It drove her absolutely crazy that he wouldn’t give her that, that everytime she begged or demanded, he would pull out. It was a sign to her that she couldn’t control him, not completely.

“You’re the only woman who gets to have that.” He tells you, his gaze meeting yours as you shift up into a sitting  position. “The only one that gets to have every part of me.”

You draw your knees up to your chest, tucking the blanket over your legs because it get a little cold in here at night. He makes note to get you an extra blanket because the temperature is only going to keep dropping.

“David, we should talk about what happens when I go to jail.” You say softly. “You need to get clear of this…”

“You won’t see jail time.” He tells you and there’s such surety in his voice that you can’t help but believe him. “You’ll be bailed tomorrow, made to pay a fine, they’re going to seek restitution for the property damage. We’ll be paying it off for the next couple of years.”

We…

Because the two of you, you’re in this together come hell or highwater.

“David…” You whisper because you know exactly what he’s done while you’ve been trapped with Stahl.

All the favours he’s collected over the years, all that good will. He’s used it all up on you, on managing this crisis. You know what this is going to do to him, his dreams of being Chief, they’re over. His affiliation with you has seen to that.

“You’ll be his downfall.” Jacob Hale had warned you when he’d heard about you and David. “You’ll ruin everything he’s worked for.”  

This is it right here, the moment he was talking about. Fuck it eats you up inside, knowing you’re dragging David down with you.

“You think this is a sacrifice for me but it isn’t.” He says as he raises to his feet, wincing at the stiffness in his bones as he comes to stand before the bars, his hands gripping them. “Unser was never going to step down and I don’t see the point of having all this power if I can’t use it to do the right thing.”

You mirror his movements, your fingers coming to rest in the indentations between his knuckles as you press your head against the cool bars.

“You didn’t ask for any of this,” He reminds you quietly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “We just fucked the wrong people and now we’re getting fucked but at least we’re in it together. They don’t get to have this, they don’t get to take you away from me.”

“No.” You whisper, a sad smile crossing your features because even though you’ve both lost so much, you’ll always have each other.  “They won’t ever have this.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[akanemnon]

alright akane, you say the nature of Kris is going to be “off the rails”…

but just how big will the blast radius be when you pull the trigger? How long will it be until the find my remains? Because you seem to have something completely new in store.

in other words, will I want to play megalo strike back to it?

It would be pretty funny if it wasn't so messed up if you think about it for longer than a minute. But I don't think Megalo Strike Back would fit the explanation

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

It's Spooky Month; therefore, it's officially time for:

AUNTIE KAMI'S THE DO'S AND DON'T'S FOR FIBER ARTISTS AND THOSE WHO LOVE THEM DURING THIS MOST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH TIME OF THE YEAR:

PART ONE, For Fiber Artists:

(Most of these will have been said before, but they bear repeating because a year is enough time for people to forget why their beloved fiber artist has now lost their damn senses once again.)

DON'T Work Through Pain: If you're starting to hurt, STOP. Every single one of us exist in an art that is a repetitive motion injury in the works. If you start to feel discomfort, STOP. I don't care if you're in the middle of the row, that's why the gods of fiber created stitch markers! Repetitive motion injury will take your art from you. Don't let it.

DO Stretches For Your Hands And Wrists: As I said above, we are nothing but walking repetitive stress injuries. There are lots of resources out there on how to stretch your hands and wrists. DO THEM EVERY HOUR. DO NOT SKIMP ON THEM. IF YOU TRY TO WRIGGLE OUT OF IT, I'LL BLESS YOUR HEART WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE. (Southern people understand this curse.)

DON'T Ignore Your Bladder: Do you really want to explain to your doctor that your URI might be because you wanted to see how many rows you could finish before your bladder bursts? Look, yarn/thread/etc. chicken is one thing, but bladder chicken is just not acceptable.

DO HYDRATE: I don't care how you do it. Just do it! Look at it as turning your bladder into an internal alarm clock so you'll take breaks. (see above)

DON'T Assume Your Non-Fiber Oriented Loved Ones Are Aware Of Anything You're Doing: All they see is you are Mr. Hyde now. You are the Dark Side. You are the Thing That Snarls And Sometimes Cries. If they are hiding under the furniture, they are just giving you some space. They still love you...they just want to be out of the blast radius.

DO Feel Free To Maim And/Or Hunt Anyone For Sport Who Calls Your Art "Grandma Craft": Grandmas (and Grandpas) created fucking art and deserve fucking vindication. I suggest the use of your art as new and adventurous ways in Social Correction. Have fun!

.

.

--------------------- Tune in next time for Part Two: What Should Our Loved Ones Do Besides Hide! Same Bat Time! Same Bat Channel!

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊

I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.

I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.

Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.

I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.

Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.

The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.

That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.

Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.

I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.

But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.

So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.

There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...