#i thought about being cagey but actually fuck it this is my blog

[inaconstantstateofchange]

how to find fandom friends who have the same anti-blorbos and Secret Evils as you, asking for a friend

[doberbutts]

People really learned the term "white passing" and just started using it on every pale PoC they see in order to discount their experiences with racism and oppression huh? I see it used to shoot down latino people, mixed people, SWANA people, light skinned black people, south Asian people, etc., groups I've all seen be labeled as "white passing" by random o line trying to dismiss them when they talk about their experiences when the vast majority of them are not. They can't be dense enough to think that skin color is the only thing that clocks people as non white right, there's facial hair, eye color, lip shape, nose shape, hair texture, etc. Especially when people are talking about their very real experiences with racism and oppression??? Who the fuck are they to say "no you didn't actually experience this, you're white/white passing actually". It's so incredibly frustrating to see done over and over again (often by ACTUAL white people).

If somebody talks about their experiences with racism I'm just gonna believe them instead of trying to pick apart their experiences because I've deemed "they're lying and actually white passing" or w/e. Legit who the fuck do people think they are to think they have the final say on people's lived experiences with racism??? The term white passing has become so diluted (a term that originated in Black communities to describe a very specific experience) and is being used to shut down PoC.

I look like this and people have tried it on multiple occasions with me. Now I am mixed race. And you could call me light skinned I guess, depending on the time of year and how long I've spent outside I'm darker than Obama and Beyonce but lighter than Lupita and Chadwick. But [general] you really think white people look at me and sees anything except a black person??? I mean other Native people usually recognize me as Native sure, and other black people see that there's "something else" present (most incorrectly guess afrolatino fwiw, probably seeing the Native and not realizing what they're recognizing) but ain't no one looks at my face and sees a white person. The closest to white passing I've ever been is when I meet someone initially without them seeing my face (so by text or voice only) when I was still going by my birth name, and THAT wasn't safe either because the second my black ass was visible there was a major problem that what they thought was a little white girl with a cute name was actually... me...

Now I don't talk to Saint. We are not friends. I've scrolled enough of his blog in the past investigating if I needed to actually give a shit what he does to know that he is very cagey about showing his face due to privacy concerns. He has occasionally posted non-face photos and has fairly light skin in though photos. I also know that his story about being mestizo has been fairly consistent and thus gives me really no reason to question him. And like all mixed race people, while you may gain lighter skin you also can never really escape the racism that comes whenever someone figures you out.

It's something I've been chewing on for a while but like. Maybe so many mixed race people saying they experience rejection from both/all of their shared demographics is a thing that should be listened to instead of dismissed as a "tragic mulatto" stereotype 🤷‍♂️ when people are literally doing exactly the thing that mixed race folks are complaining about, maybe it shouldn't be dismissed out of hand but rather addressed as a problem within the community.

For someone to blatantly say "this person isn't a POC because they're mixed race and light skint and so they're practically white" literally IS the rejection that mixed race people talk about all the fucking time.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

hi it's 'trans rights' anon, sorry for being cagey i just enjoy your thoughts and didn't want to engage if you turned out to be a terf. Sorry for being weird! I love reading your long ass posts tearing tswift limb from literary limb

Hello again! No worries- I had just worried if it was something I said that made you feel uncomfortable, or that maybe it was something in my bio that felt off. So I tried to explain anything that might have been the cause.

I don't know how to internet- I'll be honest I never use social media and I've only been talking on this blog for like a few months. So, sometimes I worry that I will be misinterpreted- It's happened a few times already so. Anyway- I don't stand for any kind of discriminatory practices.

In my real-life activism- I consider myself a bit of a radical really because I've been working in organizations helping to protect LGBT rights down here in the American South since I was in High School.

So, I really just don't fuck around about wanting everyone to be safe and able to fully express themselves in whichever manner they see fit. So- don't worry about wanting to double check. I'm super into feminism and navigating feminism on this website has been a bit of challenge - because sometimes I think people are really far left, and down with intersectional feminism, and then I discover they have really regressive views on gender. I do not understand it????????????

Anyway, hopefully my response was reassuring enough?

But I'm glad to hear you enjoy my literary criticisms of Taylor Swift. It's actually brought some joy back into my life. Before I started doing this, I was really burnt out on writing. I hadn't written anything for months!

I was legitimately considering a career change- but I think I just need to rediscover the joy of literary criticism. Doing critique of Taylor Swift has been the best form of low-stakes exploration, and it's just so nice to remove the pressure I put on myself to do the best work possible for my job. I feel like here I can relax I little bit and maybe just chat about stuff I notice in her work. It's been helping a lot with the burn out issue.

I might branch out into some other musicians too- just for fun. I would like to talk about some artists I actually love too like Hozier or Joy Oladokun. Or ramble about some poets I love- like Mary Oliver. I could write a dissertation on her work alone- and still be singing praises after the fact.

okay done rambling now <3 bye

[allcirclesvanish]

i thought she knew but apparently my mom had no idea that the reason i'm so cagey around social media is that i was targeted for harassment over mlp fanart of all things. someone reposted my art to a kiwi farms thread for bad/embarrassing tumblr posts, and even though there are clearly stated guidelines against "cow tipping," it didn't stop people from harassing me and reposting my art to other websites in order to invite more harrassment from people who sent me some of the most vile things i've ever seen in my life. everything from suicide baiting to simulated cp to people eating feces and animals fucking... because i drew cringe fanart with a message about mental health (one of a set of similarly benign pieces of fanart with positive messages written underneath). my punishment for being cringe was having people dig up dirt about my life to taunt me with, and to threaten me, and to trigger ptsd responses until i finally gave up and deleted all of my art and everything else i could find about my life online.

it was very easy to target me for emotional responses because i used to post a lot about my life and my art online. it's been years and i've gotten better about practicing personal safety online but it's extremely hard for me to meet people or put myself out there at all. i've tried 5 or 6 times to restart my art blog, hoping that i'll make other artist friends, but it never lasts because i start to panic thinking about what if people harrass me and send me horrible things again. it only lasted a few weeks, which is nothing compared to the harassment campaigns i've seen against other people... this latest iteration of my art blog is the longest lasting one so far, but it's still kind of an emotionally daunting thing every time i want to post. i draw so much more than i actually update and i have to take long breaks from it because i need everything i post to pass this invisible and poorly defined bar in my mind of "will somebody have such a problem with this that they'll feel like they need to send me self harm photos over it." it changed my relationship to art forever. it turned me into an unbearable perfectionist who barely finishes anything. it damaged my ability to trust people. it really changed my life for years in just a matter of weeks.

i hadn't even heard of kiwi farms before this happened... i started visiting the site more regularly and grew a sort of fascination with them. i'm particularly interested in this contradictory place they hold in people's minds as an authority on truth and a hub of degeneracy. thinking especially of callouts that get reposted with sources from kiwi farms; how many times have you seen the line "yes, i know it's kiwi farms (ew) but the information is solid!"

like even if individual screenshots are undoctored and posted with full context (lol) i have rarely seen anyone asking whether it's morally questionable to repost personal information without consent, or to refer people back to a website like kiwi farms. even if they don't technically promote harrassment, they still stalk people in order to collect information about them. it's the point of the site. and their surveillance is just as much about punishment for perceived wrongs as it is about entertainment. if a cow is coerced into change after being posted to kiwi farms, that is broadly considered a win by the community.

being posted even briefly did change my life, but i think the biggest change was in my own thinking. for me it was an early insight into the dangers of surveillance and callout culture. even if i wasn't being "called out" for "problematic" behavior, it wasn't hard to make the connection between my experience and the experiences of people who are routinely harassed and targeted for kinks or privately held beliefs or for making jokes years in the past that reflect views they obviously no longer hold. also not hard to see how this appetite for entertainment at the expense of others could be easily co-opted (say by corporations or the government) in order to seed distrust in communities and promote narratives that align with the interests of capital!

anyway when people talk about their concerns of kiwi farms radicalizing its user base i don't think they ever envisioned a kiwi to communist pipeline lol

[ikroah]

The strangest gal I ever had never happy ‘less she’s mad. Oh, I got a woman mean as she can be, sometimes I think she’s almost mean as me. —“Mean Woman Blues,” Elvis Presley (1957)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #16 - Crimson Caravan

Collaborative Issue! Guest Artist: Esseress

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

Girls’ night! Girls’ night!

I want this issue to speak for itself so I’m going to cut right to gratuitously thanking our latest guest artist, Esseress, who did a completely phenomenal on these five pages. We’ve been working on it for a long time and I’m over the moon to finally bring it to you now on this blog. I love writing this comic, and I loved doing the lettering and composition for it, but my goodness do I love Esse’s art. It was a real privilege to have that art as part of It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’, especially since the artist was such an immaculately pleasant collaborator. If you’re reading this, thank you again for such a fun project (and talking about Naruto with me lol).

Original Pencils (click for full size):

This issue was one of my most fun composition challenges yet because something that you want to avoid in comics as much as possible, I think, is talking heads. You want to avoid shots that are static, overly repetitive, and uninteresting. Now the challenge is, how do you do that when your whole comic takes place in a small storeroom and is nothing but a conversation between two characters?

Playing with angles and expressions, and using repetition intentionally with the percussive referent of Agnes cutting into the floorboards, made for some really suspenseful page layouts that complemented the script in a major way. I’m especially proud of the third page, with its quick cutaway to the exterior of the office and the cutting continuing beneath Agnes’ dialogue. Also, did you notice that you only ever see Agnes’ left side this issue? You never get to look her in the eye this issue, and given how cagey she’s acting, that evasiveness was an intentional compositional choice. It was satisfying to pull off, but hear me, it took a lot of planning in the thumbnail stage to pull off well.

The other fun challenge of this issue was lighting. When you’re in a closet a night and don’t want to be seen, how do you see? The delightful answer was to have Agnes actually use that damn flashlight she wears on her shoulder; attentive readers will notice that this is the second time she’s used it in the comic, with the first time being back in Boulder City at the end of Volume 1. Hmm…guys, I wonder if it’s a bad omen that she only seems to turn it on when she’s about to commit or assist in a murder…

Speaking of lighting! One last fun hiccup about this issue was the final page. The script I wrote called for it to transition from night to morning between the first and second panels, but in a case of unforeseen and magnitudinous pedanticism, it was while coordinating the lighting on that page with Esse that I looked up the actual time of sunrise in the Mojave Desert for the time of year this issue takes place, which is November 5th if you’re curious. Turns out the sun shouldn’t be rising until after 7:00 AM, which hardly makes McLafferty the exceptionally early riser her planner says she is. That’s not to say it’s actually 7:00 AM in the comic…go ahead and play the CinemaSins ding for the wrong sunrise time, or whatever. And it’s not like any of you would have known or cared if I didn’t say anything! It was just too weird of a writing quirk to not bring up. The lesson, folks, is to always remember your temporality when writing. It’ll help you sleep a lot easier.

Transcript:

EXT. CRIMSON CARAVAN, night. The lights are out and everyone in the caravan compound have retired to their barracks for the night. From inside one of the compound buildings comes a soft sound.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…

INT. CRIMSON CARAVAN OFFICE. AGNES SANDS is bent over on the floor of a storeroom, carving into the wooden floor with her bootknife. ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY leans against the door behind her.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…

AGNES: So…have you ever killed anyone before?

AGNES continues cutting into the floor without looking at CASS as she speaks.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…

AGNES: And I don’t mean a raider or fiend or something, nothing in self-defense. I mean in cold blood.

CASS: You mean like you killed those Khans?

(NOTE: *IKROAH #14—Lou.)

CASS: Hmmm…no, I guess I haven’t. When it comes to bloody vengeance just for myself…

CASS: …be gentle, it’s my first time.

AGNES doesn’t react to CASS’ joke. CASS becomes equally serious.

CASS: …I’d imagine this ain’t your first rodeo, the way you asked.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…

CASS: I mean…this Benny guy, in Vegas. When we catch him, which notch on your blood-spattered bedpost is he?

AGNES stops cutting into the floor, raising her knife. CASS’s expression tightens with concern. The silence is uncomfortable.

AGNES: Second.

CASS: Oh, thank God.

AGNES: What?

CASS: No offense, but the way you got all serious, I worried for a second you might be some kind of serial killer nutjob.

AGNES: No, no, I’m sorry. I was just…thinking. I really know how to meet the wrong men, apparently.

CASS (smiling): Dead men, right?

AGNES frowns. Her knife plunges back into the wooden floor.

SFX: SKRITCH, SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…

CASS: Wanna talk about it?

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…

CASS: Not like we have anything else to do.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH… 

AGNES: I really don’t.

CASS: Fine. That said, though, I did imagine this whole revenge thing being a bit more…exciting. Can’t say I like being stuck in a closet.

AGNES (smirking): You get used to it.

CASS: Why, though? You picked the lock to her fucking office like a cheap office toy. Why not break into her barracks and we shoot the bitch now?

AGNES: First, because that’s a great way to get us both killed.

AGNES keeps cutting as she speaks, deeper and deeper into the floor.

AGNES: Second, you want her to know it was you, so we have to get her awake and alone.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…

AGNES: Third, her planner on her desk confirmed what I already suspected—that she’s an early riser—so we’ll see her sooner rather than later, while the rest of the company is still asleep.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…

AGNES: Fourth, we want to send a message to everyone else. So it has to be at least a little spectacular.

SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH...

CASS: Oh…you’ve really thought this through.

SFX: SKRIT-

AGNES stops cutting. She slowly lifts her knife out of the floor.

AGNES: Yeah.

CASS: Where’d a medic get so good at murder?

AGNES rises from bending over the floor to a kneeling position, turning back towards CASS and frowning.

CASS: Sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about that, either.

AGNES: Maybe another time. For now…

AGNES leans back, kneeling over an intricate cross-hatch, about three feet in radius, of deep cuts and gouges into the floorboards in front of her.

AGNES: …just trust me.

EXT. CRIMSON CARAVAN. Night turns to early morning, and ALICE McLAFFERTY, the boss of the caravan, walks up the steps of her office and enters.

AGNES (from inside, whispering): Alright. Now. Quickly.

From inside her office, a door is kicked open.

SFX: DTHUMP

ALICE: What the hell, who are you—!?

CASS: Rose of Sharon goddamn Cassidy, of Cassidy fucking Caravans, you bitch!

ALICE: No, you’re—

SFX: KABLAM

The sound of a shotgun going off in the middle of the compound wakes up the whole caravan. Crows scatter from the courtyard while guards start rushing towards the office door.

AGNES: Alright, now let’s go! Shoot the floor here where I—

SFX: KABLAM

The guards close in on the office while wooden shrapnel falls from a new hole in the floorboards of the office, and AGNES and CASS drop through to the ground outside, and crawl away from the caravan guards under the hut just as they reach the McLAFFERTY’s front door.

[swampgallows]

its been a long time since i was actually personal about anything on my blog because i have too large of an ‘audience’ here now but i dont have a ‘personal’ (this is my personal lol) and i dont get to talk to my therapist for another month so im venting here.

covid has put me at odds with my raver friends. there is a very distinct line in the sand drawn between people who respect other people and people who dont, now, because the fact of the matter is that people’s selfish behavior is killing people. and it’s really fucking insulting and annoying that they’ll rattle off statistics and numbers (which are all copy pasted), trying to justify their behavior. sorry but attending a 1000 person rave even before los angeles had fully opened up is selfish and dangerous. i would give them more credit if they were just honest about “well im vaccinated and i want to party so there”, but adding insult to injury by trying to make it seem like i’m being unreasonable has deterred me from feeling close with them. if youre going to do something that you know is wrong, just own it. youre not “underground” and “sticking it to the man” by putting people in your own community in danger.

one of my friends in particular has been doing this a very long time, where if you disagree with them then they think all you need is more convincing. it would be manipulative if it wasnt so naive. 

i am sick of feeling like i’m just being a paranoid spoilsport who is ‘jealous’ of my friends being cavalier about going out, acting like theyre invincible, when it’s very clearly always been the more vulnerable of our friends who are having to pay the price for their selfishness. these people also have a lot of influence and sway in the rave community here, and for them to go out and do this shit brazenly, encouraging people to come to the shows, is also directly affecting the scene and other people’s behavior. you cant fucking play at a party and then say “oh well i didnt ask them to come, they were free to stay home if they wanted”, directly trying to shirk accountability and personal responsibility for the environment theyre creating. 

recently there was some issue about a crew that caused a lot of destruction in their area, who my friends have previously been associated with and benefited from, and now theyre all colluding as to how they can still maintain their relationship with the crew while saving public face. to me it’s as if they have no morals and scruples only come into play when it affects their image. i have been friends with these people for a long time but im beginning to feel like i cannot trust them if theyre going to put their whims before other peoples safety, or if theyre just going to lie to peoples faces for the sake of their image.

as for wow, i always get very prickly around new patches because i have had people who i thought were friends very deliberately disobey my wishes and spoil things for me within the first 24-48 hours of the patch (or even before it’s out, via datamining). i dont know how much more vocal i can be about the fact that i hate spoilers, i dont want to know ANYTHING, DO NOT talk to me about new patch content, and then people steamroll all over it and say “well it’s not a spoiler, but--” and then proceed to tell me spoilers.

i have been isolated for much longer than quarantine has gone on, and stuck with incredibly unhealthy, paranoid people that i cannot be myself around the entire time. ive definitely become more cagey as a result, but overall i am having a very hard time continuing to trust or feel comfortable around people. i want to believe it’s just me and that im the problem, because then it’s something i can fix. but i dont know anymore. i dont know why it feels like every single thing is rubbing me the wrong way, why my threshold for discomfort is so low and my intolerance is so high :(

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Plurality: 02

Second whumpee won the poll. Be warned, this chapter’s a longer one

CW: Dehumanization, slavery, creepy + intimate whumper, brainwashing, manipulation, illegal business practices

Tag List: @thatsthewhump​ @whump-it​ @ashintheairlikesnow​ @fairybean101​ @finder-of-rings​ @comfortforthepain​ @shameless-whumper​ @that-one-thespian​ @burtlederp​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @raigash​ @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook​ @whumps-the-word​ @frnkieroismydaddy​ @whumpity--whump--whump​ @michelleswhumpyreblogs​ @jo-castle​ @newandfiguringitout​ @lumpofwhump​ @infested-with-blood​

Masterlist

Ren looked up from their work computer, eyebrow arched. It wasn’t time for Yanni to come in and complain about the broken clasp on her phone charm, which Ren would ever-so-generously offer to replace for her. She wasn’t due to notice it until her midafternoon coffee break, since she wasn’t overly invested in checking the thing during work hours. 

It wasn’t Yanni, unsurprisingly, but it also wasn’t anyone Ren could say they recognized. Oh, sure, they’d seen the man’s face around before, but they’d never spoken with him, and they weren’t even sure what department he worked in.

“Mx. Pavlish, is it?” he said with a friendly, though nervous smile. He was an okay actor, though. They could only discern his nerves due to their practice at it.

“Hello,” Ren said, carefully, pleasantly neutral. “I’m afraid I can’t recall us ever meeting.”

“Ah, we haven’t spoken,” he said, taking the somewhat-cramped office chair they kept available for visitors and dragging it over to their desk. “My name is Mike.” 

He offered his hand for shaking, and Ren inwardly cringed at the feeling of his sweaty palm against their own. They took a squirt of hand sanitizer immediately after, and Mike chuckled with a self-conscious little rub to the back of his neck.

“So, Mike, what brings you here?”

“I work in security,” Mike said, and Ren felt every nerve in their body become immediately alert. “I know, uh, about your little ploy.”

Blackmail, then. He was here to blackmail them. They very, very carefully sized him up. 

“And what ploy, exactly, is that?”

“You unplug the ethernet cords to Jasmine’s and Cassandra’s computers just so you can be the one to fix them,” Mike stated, and Ren’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’ve been sitting on this for a while,” Ren mentioned, “I haven’t done that in going on three months now.”

“Wait have you been doing something else?”

“Is that relevant to this conversation?”

Mike chuckled again. “I guess not. But hey, listen, I get it. We all want to impress pretty ladies, right?” He gave Ren one of those nudge-nudge wink-wink kind of smiles, and Ren tilted their head consideringly. Maybe not blackmail? His tone and mood weren’t exactly right for it, but Ren couldn’t rule anything out. “Look, my cousin’s friends with Jasmine, I could have her set you two up on a ‘blind’ date, if you want.” Mike even made the little airquotes around the word. Precious.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I’ve kinda got a favor I’d like to ask you?”

Hm. Wishy-washy. The threat of tattling on Ren for the sabotage hung, but distantly, left on a backburner that Ren could be aware of but neither would necessarily acknowledge, while Mike offered a perceived reward instead. Ren lifted their finger to their lips, pressing it horizontally along the line.

“I’m listening,” they stated evenly, curious.

“So, I saw you on the news. And your box boy has been, ha, everywhere. And you’re kinda like, the model citizen of whumpee-ownership, yeah?”

Ren blinked slowly, and said, “I might be.”

“God, ha, kinda cagey aren’t you?”

“I prefer to know what I’m dealing with. Continue.”

“Right, so,” Mike shifted in his seat, hands moving from the armrests to scratch at the side of his nose and then back on the armrests, “the law states that pets cannot be held legally accountable for crimes they committed under past owners. The idea is that the new owners will discipline them better, yada yada, behavioral psychology babble, you get the drift. Anyway. I am in possession of a particularly… let’s say, criminal box boy. Defiant and loudmouthed and it turns out he’s been getting into trouble while I wasn’t looking. Ha, pretty embarrassing for a security guard, huh?”

Yeah, no way in hell this guy hadn’t been using his pet to do the things he was too chicken-shit to do himself. It was a smart move, though, Ren would give him that.

“So basically, I need to do some... let’s call it whumpee-laundering. Change hands before the cops get the dna work back. He’s a good lad, y’know, don’t want anything bad to happen to him, much less for him to get locked up. So, howsabout you, oh model pet owner, take him for, what, a week? Two weeks? Just long enough for things to simmer down. I’ll take him right back off your hands as soon as this whole mess blows over, and I will definitely get you a date with Jasmine. Yeah?”

Ren stared at him contemplatively. Definitely not blackmail, this guy was in a bad way, and didn’t want the cops to have custody of a defiant whumpee that would talk the moment it was taken in. He needed Ren to say yes to this deal. But contemplative silence on a man already squirming in his seat worked wonders to sweeten the deal.

“And hey, I mean, he’ll be legally yours, right? So, like, whatever you wanna do to him while he’s at your place, you can do it. I mean, as long as you don’t kill or sell him, I do want him back. But like, if you wanna, fuck, I dunno, chop off his arm or some shit? Be my guest. As long as I get him back alive I don’t care, no restrictions, right? It’ll be fun, he’s got a pottymouth but if you gag him he’s not a bad looker, all things considered.”

Ren hummed, tapping a finger up and down against the back of their own palm, hands clasped loosely in front of their chin, elbows on their desk.

“Say, Mike?”

“Yeah?” he answered eagerly, body jumping lightly in the chair, sitting up straighter.

“I appreciate the offer to set me up with Jasmine, but I actually have no interest in dating her. You’re right; it is the simple act of showing off that I like the best.” Mike visibly began to panic, and Ren took a small mercy on him. “But there is something you have that I would be deeply appreciative of receiving.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I want full access to company surveillance cameras and audio recorders, on my devices, and no record of my permissions.”

“Oh.” Mike blinked, and then grinned. “Oh! Oh, yeah, of course, easy as pie, I can so do that for you. So you’ll take him? Tonight, ideally?”

“When I meet him, I will assess him,” Ren stated. “If I perceive that he is any threat to my own box boy, the deal’s off.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, I gave the wrong impression!” Mike said with a much more relaxed laugh. “He’s got a defiant mouth but he won’t act up. His bark is way worse than his bite, don’t worry, he isn’t a fighter.”

“I’ll see that for myself, but very well. Bring all of his paperwork with you,” Ren said as they wrote down their number on a notepad. “Text me. I’ll send you my address. Meet there at 5:30, and no earlier. Bring any disciplinary tools you own along with him.”

“Not gonna use your own?” Mike asked with a glance at Ren’s hand sanitizer. 

“Don’t own any. I have the blindfold and sensory deprivation hood that came along with my pet’s box, but I haven’t used the blindfold since unboxing him and I’ve only touched the hood to put it away somewhere in the basement.” Actually, where had they put that thing? “My pet is too well behaved for such things.”

Mike whistled. “Nice. You get an expensive model?”

“Well, he wasn’t cheap. But he was exactly what I wanted.”

“Ooo, custom?”

“In training. His appearance was already precisely suited to my desires.”

Mike laughed and extended his hand again, before seeming to think better of it and he shot Ren a two finger salute. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Ren nodded in return with a pleased little. “See you tonight.” Ren thought of one last thing. “Oh, and Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you told him that you only plan on selling him temporarily?”

“Ah, no, just recently came up.”

“Don’t tell him this isn’t a permanent arrangement. He’ll be easier to mold, that way.”

“You’re the boss,” Mike said with double pistols, and left their office.

The moment the door closed behind him, they pulled out a notebook and began jotting down a list of pros and cons. Their agreement had been deeply tentative, not that they’d let Mike know that. They would thoroughly scrutinize the concept, and then rigorously test the box boy himself once he was brought over.

The idea of having someone to yank around, though. To punish, perhaps with some of the tools Host had listed in their disciplinary video… Ren swallowed, their mouth watering. Skin that they could pinch and cut and bruise, not deeply, nothing permanent, nothing too mean. Someone they could sink their claws into and throw away in a week or two, leaving their home unblemished and perfect, just Soren and them. Just a quick little fix. Just a nice little treat.

The potential cons outnumbered the pros, but the potential pros were of a much higher quality.

They drove home quickly that night, bidding Yanni a very short goodbye, citing business that needed attending, and they weren’t even lying.

“I bet you just wanna get home and cuddle your boy,” she teased them, sticking her tongue out.

“And I bet you’re going to do the same to your babe,” Ren teased in return, wiggling their eyebrows at her. Yanni giggled and admitted to being guilty as charged, and didn’t whine or cling any longer. See? Convincing her to get her own pet had been such a wise decision. So useful. 

“Soren!” they called the moment they walked in the door.

“Exalted!” Soren called back, and they noted the sound of a hair dryer cutting off. “You’re home earlier than usual!” Soren said as he rushed down the stairs. His hair was still a little damp, they noted, as they pulled him into a hug.

“I am. I have a big evening ahead,” Ren stated, handing him their lunch bag and prying off their jacket. 

“What’s on the agenda, Exalted?” Soren asked, hanging up their jacket for them and following them into the kitchen.

“Tonight, depending on how introductions go, we will be adding a new box boy to the house.” Ren snorted, pulling down a glass and opening the fridge, digging around for their ginger ale. “Well, a used box boy. I’m taking him off a coworker’s hands.” They “casually” glanced over their shoulder to see Soren’s reaction, and he was white as a sheet.

“E-Exalted? I, I don’t…”

“Soren, baby?” they asked sweetly, pretending not to understand.

“If-If I haven’t,” Soren stuttered shakily, eyes wide and vacant, staring somewhere far past the kitchen tile, “If I’m not, pl-pleasing you, if this, is,” he raised a shaking hand to his hair, a front lock, one of the beautiful portions he might have turned into bangs, “is about, what I almost did, I’m sorry, I can do better, I can be better, please, I don’t--I can’t--please, Exalted, I just need to know, just tell me and I’ll do it, I want to, I, I need to, please, just tell me, tell me anything I’ll do anything Exalted please, please, I can be good, I want to be good! I want to, I want to be good, I want to, Exalted, I want to be good for you just tell me please I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything!”

Ren sipped idly at their ginger ale, not bothering to mask their face with concern or pity when he clearly couldn’t see them anyway. God, he sounded so pretty like this. Tears budding up in his eyes, his hands shaking so visibly, his body trembling in a more subtle, yet equally delicious way. It was all so perfect to watch, to listen to as he broke down. They knocked back the rest of their drink and set the glass down on the counter.

“Soren, angel,” they crooned, face twisted up artfully and voice sweet as honey. They gently pried Soren’s hand from his hair and placed it on his collar, which made him gasp, eyes blinking rapidly, immediately grounding him. They caressed his face, then tilted it up. Petting at the lock of hair he’d just been tugging at, they smiled pityingly. “My sweet little bird, no no. You haven’t done anything wrong, pet. I’ve forgiven you for hurting me so badly, it’s in the past my darling angel, weeks in the past. My precious, sweet Soren, shush now, shush. Nothing bad is happening to you. This will be a good thing! Just because I’ll have a new plaything doesn’t mean I’ll neglect you, Soren, sweetheart. And you’ll have someone lower than you on the pecking order! Won’t that be nice?”

“I--I--”

“Shhhh, Soren, shhhhh, shush now. It’s okay, it’s alllllll alright. You’re my favorite, darling, you’ll always be my favorite plaything, don’t worry.”

“Th-thank you, thank you Exalted, thank you.”

“There, there’s a good boy. So well mannered, saying exactly what you’re meant to.” Ren hugged him tightly, too tight, but only just a little. “Don’t forget, my pet. You will belong to me forever. You will kneel at my feet only, you will eat only when I am the one to give you food, you will never set foot outside this house without me and you will never belong to anyone else. You’re mine, mine alone, and mine forever, Soren.”

“Yes,” Soren said, sounding grateful and relieved, just like he was meant to. “Yes, Exalted, thank you, thank you so much.”

Ren grabbed a fistful of hair and kissed him, and he kissed back eagerly. 

“Soren, tell me you love me,” they ordered sweetly, and Soren beamed. 

“I love you, Exalted! I love you, Ren!” He leaned against them and they let him. “I won’t ever love anyone as much as I love you, Ren.”

“I know you won’t, my angel, you’re so good.”

And that was when the doorbell rang.

“Right on time,” Ren mentioned with a glance at the kitchen clock. “Come along, pet, let’s go interview our new potential plaything.”

“Yes, Exalted.”

Mike looked no less awkward standing up than he did sitting down, Ren thought, as they opened the door. He held himself like an adolescent trying out for theater who had no idea how to act and was in possession of limbs too long for his body. Behind him and to the side, a box boy carried his box on his back, looking very much like he was about to be crucified or somesuch.

“Come in,” Ren welcomed, “Take off your shoes.” Not that it mattered. The boy was filthy and bloody. Every room he set foot in would need to be thoroughly cleaned. Honestly, Mike couldn’t have even given him a bath before bringing him over? He really was in a rush.

“Set the box down; let me get a look at you,” Ren ordered. They observed the box boy, a young man with short (ugh) brown hair, too short to even grab efficiently. Nothing to yank him around by, and no time to grow it out. Whatever, they'd just have him wear a leash or somesuch. Brown eyes, tan skin, ambiguous ethnicity. Somewhat muscled, but half-starved and visibly exhausted, so he moved with a weakness. He let the box thunk down on the carpet, and when he raised his eye he met Ren's boldly. 

“Position two,” they said with a snap of their fingers, and they heard a pair of knees hit the floor before they saw the new boy kneel. They turned with surprise and saw Soren kneeling, which prompted them to laugh. 

“Oh no, no, Soren, angel, sweetheart, no. Both of you, position one. Soren, now, listen--haha! You just stand there and look pretty okay?” They pet his hair, admiring the way he flushed with embarrassment over his mixup. “You just stay put right here and watch. I'm interviewing the new boy and testing his behavior, alright? You stay put.” They kissed him and turned back to the boy. He was, at the very least, standing in position one, his chin tilted up just a little too high for submission but that was something that could be beaten into him. “Position six,” they ordered, and he held out his wrists with a silent glower. But, ah, to listen to his breathing, was that fear they could detect?

He was bruised and bloody and tired, in all ways just in a horrible state of disrepair. He would require so much fixing, and honestly that thrilled Ren. They took his barcoded wrist and read off the numbers tattooed underneath it. 843-902. 

“02, huh?” Ren mused aloud. “I think that’ll make a fine nickname for you.”

“Oh, his name is--” Mike started, but Ren cut him off. 

“Irrelevant.”

02’s nostrils flared. “If I'm going to buy him, and I think I will, then the creature he was before coming into my service is entirely irrelevant.”

“Oh, good, you'll take him then?” Mike asked, sounding nervous and relieved. Ren delighted in how much control they had over him, at that moment. 

“I'm not done deciding yet.”

Mike’s flash of nervous panic was so delicious, really. As was 02’s confliction. He didn’t know if he wanted to stay with Mike or be taken by Ren, aww, how cute.

“State your type,” Ren ordered, and 02 snarled. Honest to god snarled. Ren had to swallow, salivating at the thought of how much fun it would be to break that.

“Fff-” 02 choked on his own word, conditioning clearly warring with whatever it was that he was trying to do, and Ren arched an eyebrow. “Fuck you.”

They saw Mike twitch agitatedly in their peripheral, but didn’t pay him any mind.

“Position five.”

02 dropped like a rock, his forehead actually hitting the floor, and Ren chuckled. His Processors had done well with him, whoever they’d been, but not quite well enough. The image was all too clear now. Mike had bought himself a box boy, discounted for his bad mouth, and used his excellent behavioral obedience in order to commit whatever crimes he’d forced the boy into, while tolerating his naughty little words as nothing more than a background nuisance. Or, given the bruising, knocking him around for the disobedience, but never bothering with legitimate training.

“State your type,” Ren repeated, their tone taking a special quality that meant firm disappointment. Soren eeped behind them, and they got to watch 02’s chest seize.

“Combination, Ren.”

“Oh no, darling,” Ren said with a laugh, “You don’t get to call me by name.” They nudged his temple with the side of their foot and stated, “Position two.” Once within range, Ren gripped his chin and forced him to look at them. “You will refer to me exclusively as Exalted, or, if you feel I am in a particularly good mood with you, you may call me Honored One. My name is not to come out of that filthy little mouth of yours. Not until we’ve cleaned it thoroughly. Understand?”

They released his chin but he continued to hold their gaze. “Yes,” he stated, “Honored One.”

“Aww, Mike,” Ren cooed, turning to him. “He thinks he’s cute,” they intoned, sounding very much charmed, like a child had just fallen over while dancing. 

“I know he’s got a big mouth but he really does obey,” Mike assured.

“I can see that,” they said airily. “Come join me in my office, we’ll discuss price and the paperwork. 02, take your box down into the basement and stow it in the back corner of the laundry room, on top of the other one there. Take Position two in the center of the room when you are done, and wait. Soren, heel pet.”

They led Mike and Soren away from the foyer, not checking if 02 was obeying and not needing to. He might hesitate or linger, but Ren knew with full confidence that by the time they were done signing the papers and lightly harassing Mike for the evening, 02 would be exactly where they’d told him to be. 

“Actually,” they said at the door of their office, turning with raised index fingers. “Soren, baby, why don’t you go ahead and get started on dinner for us, mm?” Ren kissed him and patted his cheek sharply, twice. He nodded, worrying his lip, but scampered off to do as he’d been told.

“He’s beautiful,” Mike commented, before Soren was entirely out of earshot. “Even prettier in real life than in the ads, and I mean, wow,” he said with a chuckle, “you know?”

“I do know,” Ren said, gesturing for Mike to take a seat as they closed and locked the door. They pulled up their surveillance cameras on their computer, turned away from Mike, and got their scanner ready to make copies and digital files of the documents. “Did you bring the tools I requested?”

“Sure did,” Mike said, patting his backpack. “Retractable cane, whip, two different gags and a muzzle, which, heh, he hates so much, let me tell you. Handcuffs, too, those too.”

“And the documentation,” Ren prompted, watching him pull them out of the bag.

“You are, heh, quite the presence, you know that Ren?” Mike said as he pulled out a manilla envelope, a cheap blue folder, and some--GOD--loose leaf papers. The fucking audacity, really. The messiness, the lack of professionalism. He couldn’t have haphazardly shoved them into the cheap folder? He really had to go around carrying official legal documents loose leaf? Their BLAW405: Filing and Organizational Systems professor would’ve made a five minute ordeal of tearing this poor, poor fool a new one. Ren tried to make themself pity Mike’s incompetence, because it was just about the only thing preventing them from feeling an unseemly amount of rage.

“Like really, I’m a security guy, you know? I’m kind of hired because not a lot of people intimidate me but you’ve just got this, uh, aura, I guess? Just sorta the way you talk and hold yourself and--oh, yeah, you just, yeah go ahead,” he cut himself off as they took the papers from him and skimmed over them, sorting them into some semblance of a reasonable order to be holding these files in, and read over them quickly but carefully one by one. They were familiar with most of this--they did, after all, possess a box boy of their own--but it never hurt to be thorough.

“I have a certain way with people, it’s true,” Ren commented idly as they shifted through the papers. “Sign here. You’re quite fortunate I am in possession of a notary’s stamp and can forge an impressive signature, you know that Mike?” Ren asked, pulling the stolen (well, illegally purchased. Their mama was a persuasive woman in her own right, and there was little on the black market she could not or would not acquire for her child, at their asking) stamp from one of their locked drawers.

“Oh, fuck, we gotta get a notary for this?”

“Some countries do not require it, and I hear the American legislation on transfer of ownership even varies from state to state, but our homeland is a little more meticulous in these matters. But like I said,” they took the signed paper from Mike and aligned the stamp carefully, before bringing it down with a satisfying thunk, “you’re in luck.”

“You are,” Mike said, chuckling nervously, kind of breathy and rather high, “really something, huh Ren?” They loved his discomfort.

“Mm,” they hummed, pleased, preening a bit, but hey, they deserved to. “Sign here.”

Four signatures later, Ren tapped the stack of papers against their desk, bringing them all nice and neatly in line, and then set them into their copier. “Now, the access files I requested?” Ren prompted, extending their hand. He unzipped an interior pocket in his windbreaker and produced a thumbdrive. “Perfect. You’ll have 02 back as soon as you’re ready for him.” Their copier whirred to a halt and they took the stack of copies from the tray, then slid all of them into the manilla folder, rather than breaking them up like a moron. They held it out for Mike and flashed him a darling smile. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding a little dazed, taking the folder like it might get up and start moving. “You, you too. Ha, wow, you are efficient.”

“It’s why I have the job I have, and why I lead the life I live.” Ren stood and ushered Mike out of their office, then out of their home. “See you next time.”

“Yeah, thanks again!” he called, and they waved with a bright smile.

“Exalted?” Soren said behind them once they shut the front door, “Dinner will be ready in 40 minutes.”

“Perfect, Soren. I’m going to go greet our new addition, you may come if you want to.”

“Yes, Exalted, I would like that,” he said, wringing his hands anxiously. They placed their palm on top of that worried movement, and Soren stilled instantly.

“Shhh, pet. Remember, you’ll always be my favorite, alright?”

Soren nodded rapidly, but did not appear soothed. Hmm. “A-are you,” Soren hesitated, searching for the words. “Are you going to punish 02 for his defiance, Exalted?”

“I am,” Ren admitted easily. Soren twitched, distress increasing. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re worried for him?”

Soren nodded. “You’ve always been so good to me, Exalted, I don’t want, um, I don’t--I…” Soren pulled on a lock of his own hair, and they shushed him again, caressing his cheek.

“He’ll only get what he deserves, my precious angel. I can treat you well because you’re a very good boy for me, Soren. I’ve rarely had to punish you; you only occasionally fuck up. But my coworker clearly hasn’t given 02 the structure or discipline he needs in order to make him good, so I’m going to have to fix him. And fixing him will require punishing him. Don’t worry, though, pet, I won’t be cruel. The punishment will fit the crime; he won’t get anything done to him that he doesn’t deserve. I promise. He’ll deserve everything that happens to him, baby, sweetheart, I promise, I promise, absolutely all of it.”

Soren nodded again, gripping his collar and relaxing, a little. It was so nice to see him keyed up and anxious. It was so nice to make Mike squirm and sweat. It was so nice, knowing that their own personal chew toy was kneeling painfully on the concrete floor of their laundry room, just waiting for them to go down and bloom a few more bruises across his skin. Perfect, perfect, all of this, perfect. Exactly what Ren deserved.

“Yes, Exalted.”

“Come along, pet,” Ren beckoned, and Soren followed them down the stairs.

02 greeted their arrival by spitting on the floor at Ren’s feet.

“Oh, disgusting little bug, aren’t you?” Ren asked mildly, stepping over the splotch. They gripped his chin again and he glared up at them. “Tell me, 02, which do you consider to be worse? Death, or refurbishment?”

02’s eyes went wide, suddenly struck with fear. Ren of course would do neither, this was a temporary arrangement, after all. But 02 didn’t know that.

“...Exalted?” 02 asked in a voice that was very very very small.

“Answer the question. Which is worse?”

02’s chest began raising visibly, rapidly. Hard to miss, with how thin he was. “D--”

“And don’t even think about lying to me, slave.”

02’s breath caught, a delightful little gagging noise escaping him. “Refurbishment, Exalted.”

“Hm. Then allow me to make something very clear to you, 02. Soren outranks you in every capacity. You will not eat until he has eaten, you will not sleep unless he has first gone to bed, you will not so much as speak if he has something to say. And if you decide that that makes you jealous, or angry, or if you just decide you don’t like my precious boy for some miscellaneous reason, allow me to make it entirely understood that if you harm so much as a single strand of hair on his head, I will personally instruct the Processors to make sure you beg for death before they put you up for resale.” They released his chin with a small flick of their fingers into the soft underside, and were gratified by the little jerk, and the way his eyes stayed on them. “Do you comprehend?”

“You--you’re warning me to keep my hands off your pet?” he asked, fearful and yet still incredulous.

“Of course,” they said, placing a hand on the front of his close-cropped hair and slowly stroking his skull, cradling his head. “Soren is my precious little bird. And you?” Ren moved their thumb sweetly, back and forth, against his prickly hair. “You’re nothing more than some worthless mutt.”

Next

[cryptocism]

ive been scrolling through ur blog for a while (cuz ur dc opinions are Top Fucking Notch) and i saw what you said abt bart in tt 03 and f:fma and while i totally agree (it killed tt 03 for me lol) im super curious abt how youd do his development if given the opportunity?

I’ve been thinking about this one like A Lot so buckle up this is long: 

it would kind of depend? On whether or not he’d be in an ensemble team like Teen Titans or with his own solo series. 

I understand metatextually why he became Kid Flash in TT, since they needed him to be more mature and a more recognizable character and having him upgrade costumes/codenames is a good shortcut for both. But I’ve already talked about why it didn’t sit right with me. 

So, lets flip the script a little bit - the start of TT would be largely the same. Our boy Bart is on the new Titans team, and things are kind of awkward after YJ disbanded, also Max is gone and Bart’s relationship with Wally is still not doing great. Things are rough, Bart has newfound doubts to deal with, especially now that the world seems to have gotten harsher and everyone seems to have a lot less patience to deal with him. The pressure to be more mature and a recognizable character is coming from other characters now rather than an authorial need: he’s reminded to take things seriously, or that he should know better by now, that he needs to slow down and think more. So Bart decides a change is necessary, and we get the library scene. He reads all the books, he reappears as Kid Flash, saves Tim via bullet catch, disassembles a gun, takes down Slade, etc. etc. Here’s my departure from canon though: it doesn’t work. 

Kid Flash is not a solution, or a magical cure for immaturity. Reading a whole library so he’s miraculously smarter and more mature and capable is, at its core, a pretty naive conclusion. And it makes sense he would think that. But it doesn’t work. He’s still impulsive, distractible, hasty. He can’t put a lid on his own sense of humor. People still think he’s annoying or lazy or careless. And he keeps trying - he knows all this stuff now, he read a whole library! - but he’s still apparently too much the same person as he's always been. And even though he’s trying very hard to live up to the Kid Flash name, it still doesn’t feel like him. Wally doesn’t like it, since Bart is literally just imitating him now, which makes things between the two even worse. And Bart keeps worrying about what’s supposed to come afterwards, since “Kid Flash” is inherently temporary, and while Impulse was only peripherally related to the flash legacy, Kid Flash comes with expectations. 

Bart is trying very very hard to be ‘grown up’ and ‘mature’, but he hasn’t actually learned anything other than a bunch of facts (which are still useful, but) he’s just trying to be who everyone expects him to be. 

And this is what i mean about the ensemble thing, because this arc would be in conversation with the rest of the core four, who are also trying very hard to be people they’re not, but all in different ways. Bart obviously with the codename change, but Cassie, Tim, and Kon all have similar issues, they’re all trying to imitate people. 

Tim is doing his Batman jr. routine, reverting back to the persona he had at the start of YJ. He’s cagey and mysterious and does questionable things without telling anybody, because he’s de-facto leader of the team again, and he has to be better than he is. No more kid stuff, the Titans are serious, he has to treat it like a job, not like a sleepover. And this whole act is putting distance between him and his friends. 

Cassie is trying her hardest to put herself in a support role. Donna’s gone and she has some big shoes to fill (she and Tim could probably bond about that if he weren’t stubbornly trying to brood at all hours of the day) and she’s doing her best to just Be Donna. Cassie and Tim would work better with their team roles swapped, and they both sort of know this - Cassie is naturally charismatic, thinks on her feet, can maintain good PR, and when she’s confident in herself is great at leading. Tim is partial to planning ahead, secrets, and keeping in the shadows, and is better at being a confidant and emotional problem solver among the team (when he allows himself to be open among friends, that is). 

But they’re both trying to fit themselves into what they see as pre-ordained roles: Robin is leader, Wondergirl is a supportive mediator. But Cassie’s got a temper and little patience for people being idiots, and Tim’s not predisposed to spotlights. 

Kon on the other hand has a story that’s less about who he should be and more who he shouldn’t be. The Lex Luthor dad storyline is here (minus the mind control shit, although the threat of it is still brought up) and Kon is doing his level best to do nothing that could be interpreted as something Lex might do. While everyone is doing their best to Not be their own person, Kon has no idea if he ever was his own person. He’s questioning everything he does, wondering if it’s some kind of evil gene showing through when he’s angry or petty or selfish. He’s going through lots of clone angst. 

So they’re all dealing with expectations and who they are or aren’t supposed to be, trying to fit themselves into boxes that don’t suit them and then convincing themselves that this is how it ought to be. Kon ought to avoid feeling or acting in any negative light because any sign of Luthor is a sign of evil, Cassie ought to tone herself down and act like Donna, Tim ought to step up and lead the team and act like Dick, and Bart ought to listen better and be smarter and slow down and grow up and do his level best to just Be Wally. 

Throughout the issues they’d all get a spotlight on their various crises, taking them through complimenting character arcs. Kon would realize through a couple close encounters and chats with ma and pa and talks with his friends and citizens of metropolis that nobody is all good or all bad. Clark can be a real asshole sometimes and Luthor’s actually done a fair bit of good (usually in his own interests, but still we’re gunning for nuance). Turns out he doesn’t have a dark side to be tempted by, he was made from 50% complex person and 50% complex person, just like everyone else. Which means he isn’t destined to be the next Superman, or Superman’s next supervillain. He’s just like, a person. With his own thoughts and feelings that have nothing to do with genetics. 

Tim would wear himself out and hide it from everybody until he killed himself, but it’s only when he sees Cassie also wearing herself out too that his ‘somebody needs somebody’ instincts kick in and they’re actually able to talk about how miserable they both are. Through some trial and error they’re able to figure out a good co-leader system for leading the team, having each other’s backs along the way, which allows for them both being able to help out the other members of their team with their own shit i.e. Kon and Bart’s identity issues. 

Bart is, like Cassie and Tim, wearing himself out trying to be this perfect version of Wally that never actually existed. He actually hates the recognition the new name gives him, because people have expectations for him now, ones he can never seem to live up to. He’s bad at following orders still, which makes him a pretty shit sidekick for Wally, in fact he’s just pretty shit at being a sidekick in general. But, he reasons, he’s supposed to be grown up and responsible now, and responsibility is all about doing shit you hate until you die, so he’s probably on the right track. 

It’s only later, once he gets some support from his friends, who help him deal with things like Max and YJ disbanding and stuff that he’s able to actually sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Wally. Wally confesses that he understands the pressure to live up to a legacy, and how he did his best to just Be Barry when he became the flash. In fact while Bart was trying to live up to Wally and be a good sidekick, Wally was trying to live up to Barry and be a good mentor. Wally’s the one to tell him that Bart’s always done his own thing, and is at his best when he does. They both agree they suck as partners, but maybe they should’ve tried to be family first. And there’s probably a racing metaphor in there somewhere because speedsters love their racing metaphors. 

ANyway Bart returns to Impulse, forging a new path, getting along better with Wally now and hanging out with him just as civilians with no pretense. He learns some valuable lessons about how maturity can’t be learned in a book, and that he’ll get it himself the more he lives and learns from experience. The Titans all get along better now that they’re all sure of their places in the group, and they can all go on just being themselves without worrying about expectations or roles to fill or whatever. 

...If Bart still had his solo series instead though, id actually want it to go in a sort of different direction? The thing about living up to predecessors and trying to be some ideal version of another person works well for the Titans because they can all deal with a similar issue in different ways, but I think it would also be interesting to do the complete opposite. 

Lots of shitty things happened in very quick succession in Bart’s life that he had no control over: Max’s disappearance, having to move in with Jay and Joan (who are nice, but whom he barely knows,) leaving his friends in Alabama, Young Justice breaking up… Basically, things kind of suck for Bart, and all he wants is for them to go back to the way they were. Instead of trying to be grown up or mature or whatever, Bart is resisting every single encroaching thing about coming adulthood. Because all growing up ever seems to mean is that everything changes and either you have to leave the people you love or they have to leave you. 

So this series would focus mostly on that, both in his civilian life; going into high school, not knowing anybody, the few friends he does make are less interested in ‘kid stuff’ and more focused on dating and interpersonal drama, high school itself seems to be geared entirely toward the “what are you going to do with your life” question, when he visits his old friends back in manchester, they’ve all kind of grown up without him. And in hero life; everyone from Young Justice is trying to move on and not talking to each other, his father figure and mentor is gone and he's not really jiving well with the rest of the flash family, and people just seem to have less patience for Impulse now that he’s older. 

Growing up is hard. It’s hard and no one understands. Especially not when you’re also a superhero and have dealt with some quality trauma like losing loved ones and feeling yourself die. So it makes sense that Bart would resist that in every way possible, do his best to pretend like everything is still how it used to be, for once in his life just trying to make everything stay put. He refuses to get rid of his old stuff, he doesn’t want to treat any villainous threats seriously, people in school keep talking about college and jobs and tuition fees and Bart wants none of that, he acts out, refuses responsibility, gets reckless under the pretense that he never used to have to be cautious. 

And this is the part where I’d bring in Inertia, cause Thad was robbed and I want him to have an actual arc that doesn’t end with infant-splosion. Also he can have a good ol companion arc to Bart. Welcome to foils everybody, where two identical boys with opposing life experiences get to thematically compare and contrast with each other as they deal with the trials and tribulations of growing up. 

So, I’m ignoring every appearance Thad ever made after Impulse 1995, picking up instead where his story left off where he swore vengeance on his creators and disappeared into the speed force. And he’s off to do exactly what he said; Thad Thawne II is going to kill his namesake/grandfather/creator - the president of Earthgov. 

But, turns out assassinating the president of a whole fucking planet is a lot harder than he thought - Thad has planned extensively for every moment of his life, so once he starts going off script things predictably go a little off the fuckin rails. Thad fails, obviously. For one because despite how much President Thawne might deserve to die, Thad at this point hasn’t done anything worse than attempted murder, and making him a killer would put a wrench in any kind of redemption arc he could have. Also he’s acting on rage, in a highly emotional state, basically going up against the entire government. Of course he’s going to get caught by the science police and brought into custody. 

Bart, meanwhile is jumping with both feet into any kind of escapism he can find, which involves various time travel shenanigans and lands him in the 30th century. He gets to reunite however briefly with his mom, but the mission he had gets derailed by the appearance of Inertia. 

Every time Bart and President Thawne interact, the president always seems to make a bid to sway Bart to the Thawne side. This never works, which is part of the reason Inertia exists in the first place; a version of Bart that the president could control. When Inertia landed in the 30th century, hell bent on assassinating his creator, the President subdued him and eventually coerced him back over to the Thawne side of the family feud. No longer a rogue agent, Inertia is back to his old self, all about destroying Bart and the rest of the Allens. 

They have a battle, taking place all over the 30th century city, and Bart does his best but Inertia has the entire Earthgov police force on his side, and Bart eventually gets captured. He gets taken to some kind of holding facility, meets with the President who monologues as him while Inertia stands beside him like a good lackey. Then suddenly the speed-inhibiting cuffs or whatever Inertia had put on Bart to stop his speed malfunctions, and Inertia drops the act, now Impulse and Inertia working together to take down the Earthgov people holding them there. 

Turns out as soon as Inertia knew he couldn’t take out the president, what with all the military force President Thawne had on his side, he bided his time until he could. He uses Bart’s help to finally get President Thawne cornered, and the assassination plan is back on track. Except now Bart is the thing stopping him. He makes the argument about how murder bad. Heroes don’t kill, etc. Inertia insists he isn’t a hero. But Bart reminds him that that’s not how Max saw him. 

Inertia hesitates just enough that President Thawne is able to get away, and now the two of them have to make an escape attempt back to the past. Bart insists on trying to take Meloni with them, and they try but ultimately fail somehow (maybe someone has to stay behind to make sure they can make the trip safely, idk. At first Thad is willing to stay behind, since there’s nothing really for him in the past. But Meloni knows that President Thawne would destroy him if he did, and she can’t let harm come to either of her sons - and she does consider Thad her son, just like Bart. She’s had far too little time with either of them, but she loves them all the same. She tells them to take care of each other, and is the first to encourage them to be like, actual brothers.) 

After yet another tearful goodbye, Bart swearing he’ll find a way for them to all be together again, Bart and Thad go back. And they do end up having to lean on each other, because shit’s tough for the both of them. Thad initially wants to apologize and possibly reunite with Max and Helen, and then finds out Max is gone. And Bart has someone who understands exactly what he’s going through. 

Things get a little more lighthearted from here. Bart and Thad don’t get along well at first, since they’re both going through rough times and lots of changes and their first instincts are to lash out at each other. But eventually they form a sort of camaraderie through shared grief, then shared fish-out-of-water experiences. Which evolves into shared inside jokes and video games and comic books and they become slow but steady friends. 

They upgrade into brothers when Bart defends Thad against the repeated (and not entirely undeserved) suspicion he receives from the rest of the Flash family. Jay and Joan take him in, but it’s clear they don’t trust him, and neither does Wally. Bart stands up for Thad, arguing that he’s as much of a Thawne as Thad is, and treating Thad like he’s the next Cobalt Blue is just going to ensure that history never changes and stupid family feuds are forever. After this, Thad starts trusting Bart a little more, and kind of solves Bart’s problems regarding encroaching adulthood with his friendship. Neither of them really had a childhood, and Thad hasn’t experienced 21st century life at all, much less the societal expectations to grow up. So Bart gets to have fun again, and Thad won't judge any of his games or his books or his attitude or interests for being childish or lame because he’s fascinated by the experience of anything regardless of the target audience. 

And from there it's a series about these two becoming brothers and growing up and the different lessons they learn and wacky characters they meet along the way. Thad ironically also puts Bart in a position where he has to take on more responsibility, since even though Thad can imitate heroic actions and is actually pretty good at it, he doesn’t understand what makes them heroic. Bart has to draw on a lot of the things Max taught him and now has to teach them to Thad. 

There’s crossover comics with Superboy, where Bart laments about having to deal with grown up stuff, and Kon gives him a new perspective on the whole “being young forever” thing, since that was a reality Kon actually had to deal with and it sucked. 

Through various misadventures they meet new and familiar characters to give them different perspectives on the whole passage of time thing. Villains who despise children or childish things, villains who embrace it but probably too much. People who talk about growing up as the worst time of their lives, others talking about it like it was the best. Kids and adults alike trying to force Bart and Thad to act a certain way while treating them another. 

The two of them come to opposing conclusions about this; Thad wants to embrace change completely, partly because he wants to experience firsthand all that life has to offer, but also his worldview depends on believing that anyone can change, and anyone can be better, because he has to believe he can be redeemed for all the shitty stuff he did. Bart, on the other hand, knows his life isn’t perfect but thinks, based on recent events, that it’s all just going to get worse from here, and so resists change as much as possible. 

Thad, in his haste to experience everything, sometimes ends up going too far, either burning both of them out, or pushing them into situations that they’re not ready for or are ill-equipped to handle. Bart, on the other hand is so resistant to change or responsibility that he stops them from doing actual necessary things like planning their futures or doing chores or making new friends. This acts as the crux for their main conflict that slowly builds throughout the series, and then in a finale to the arc, they both figure out a way to get Meloni back to the past, and to raise some stakes they have a falling out in the middle of the mission about it. 

Bart accuses Thad of trying to leave him behind, or trying to be the better version of him again, and that old insecurity about Thad replacing him crops up. Thad thinks Bart just can’t handle anything outside his personal bubble and wants to force him to live in the real world. Plus he also feels kind of abandoned by Bart, who often would leave Thad to do the scary adult things on his own. 

Tensions still high, there's suddenly an external threat to deal with - probably president thawne and the science police - and they attempt to continue arguing even while fighting the president. I’m making this up as I go so lets say yada yada big climactic moment it's looking like the two might fail to get Meloni back and they’re both still angry with each other and Bart just… can’t take it anymore. 

He keeps losing people, and the ones he keeps he always seems to screw up with. And at the end of the day he’s just a kid who wants his mom. Is that really so much to ask? So there’s a reversal, a parallel, if you will, of the assassination attempt from the beginning of the series, this time with Bart. Or, because I don’t think many people would buy that Bart would actually ever for real kill someone, maybe he’s finally about to get his mom back, but she doesn’t want to go (since she made that deal with the president that he wouldn’t harm anyone of the Allen family so long as she stayed with him) so he’s trying to force her, risking the lives/well-being of the entire Allen bloodline across all of time. 

This time it’s Thad who has to talk him down, who has to remind him about being a hero, who has to remind him that trying to go back to some magical time in the past where things were better is just going to stop him from learning and growing as a person, and that doing anything and everything possible to get there is just going to lead to Bart doing something he Actually Can’t walk back from. 

Alright but here’s the thing because having Bart be forced to leave his mom again for like the billionth time is tired and overdone, and personally the whole message about heroics involving extreme and damaging amounts of sacrifice can only go so far. So here; Thad and Bart are both right. 

Like on the one hand, yeah, it’s childish and selfish for Bart to want to be with his mom at the expense of literally everyone else in his family. On the other hand, the fact that they can’t be together because some asshole is upholding a stupid grudge is bad and unfair and wrong. The issue needing to be fixed is not the kid who wants his mom, it’s the jackass keeping them apart (and who also wants to kill/imprison people). So Bart convinces Thad that they have to save Meloni, and Thad convinces Bart that there has to be another way - one where they get their mom back and the Allens don’t have to be hunted. 

The whole story would be leading up to the two of them coming to this conclusion; the healthy middle between the two extremes. Where they have the maturity to plan ahead and sort through their differences and figure out the best course of action with the least amount of collateral, but they don’t let go of that adolescent need for justice and fairness - that thing that makes you dig in your heels and say “no. That’s not fair, that’s not right.” 

SO here’s where I’d put the title card: “Bartholomew and Thaddeus Take Down The Government”. How do they do it? No idea! I’m flyin by the seat of my pants here! Do they run for office? Do they publicize the president’s crimes in such a way he gotta go to jail? Do they somehow turn public opinion against him enough to get him out of office? idk!!! And I don’t remember enough about Earthgov’s political situation to put an accurate read on what exactly they might do to disrupt it. 

Either way they don’t kill him, manage to free their mom, and they all go back to the past together. And a new arc would involve the three of them getting settled in the past; Meloni would be a main character now, and hers is a two-pronged fish out of water story where she’s trying to figure out how shit works in the past, with overtones of the struggles of being a single parent. 

And... I’m not going to say any more about that because this is long enough already oof. 

TL;DR I think a coming of age story would be cool for Bart, and having to deal with growing up when he never really had a childhood. Also the comic itself would be aimed at younger audiences, who can probably relate to having a Bad Time in the Teens and wacky hijinks with friends and siblings.

[foxtophat]

here’s chapter 4!!! it’s been about a week and a half, two weeks since John Seed reappeared, and now nick is ready to take his vengence!  by... having john do basic tasks to repair the homestead.  hey, this isn’t eden’s gate -- what do you expect, skin flaying and long-winded religious diatribes?  (weird, that’s exactly what john expects, all the time, from everyone!)

i really love this story and am so thrilled that other people seem to enjoy it too!!! it’s fun to write, and since i know it’s just full on self-indulgent bullshit, i don’t feel guilty for not being ~~realistic~~ about the whole thing.  fuck it! nick is a pacifist now!!!

i’ve included today’s chapter under the cut so you don’t have to leave tumblr if you don’t want to.  if you’re enjoying this story, please consider reblogging so your friends can also enjoy my hellscape! or, you know, do what makes you happy, it’s not like i can force you to ruin your aesthetics blog on my behalf. stay frosty my dudes, i’ll see you in 2 weeks!

Well, John doesn't die. Despite that being the only good thing the man could possibly do, he manages to hang on through the first night, looking better before the week is out. It's a mixed blessing. On the one hand, Nick no longer feels like he's serving a skeleton its last meal; on the other, it means that John is more than likely here to stay. Every time Nick goes to give him food, he finds the room just a little bit more lived in, the tarp turning into a makeshift bed as John struggles to settle in. Just yesterday, Nick had noticed a short series of tally lines scratched in the wall, marking each day of his sentence as though he were confined to solitary.

Nick should probably be happy with how smoothly things are going. He should probably be glad that John is keeping quiet and politely recuperating without so much as a snide remark. It's what he wanted, after all — for John to wave a white flag and agree to an unconditional surrender. And yet Nick can't help but feel short-changed, as if John owes him at least one opportunity to punch him in the face for being an asshole. It used to be something Nick dreamed about doing; he'd fantasized about beating him to a bloody pulp even as John had ripped his skin from his chest. Now, he's not willing to deal with the guilt that would undoubtedly follow.

Nick wishes he could go back to his "fight everyone" thirties. Being a mature adult sucks.

It's bright and early one morning when Nick decides it's past time to do something about the ceiling, which is warped and sagging beneath the nursery. Nick suspects it's a cracked joist, but considering his lack of carpentry skills, he doubts he can do anything to repair it. Right now, all he can do is try to support the weight of the second floor with something other than a wish and a prayer. Thankfully, he saved some of the posts when he dismantled the back porch — now if only Kim weren't going to be busy all day with Carmina, they could actually get some work done.

Except, maybe not!

John has been looking a lot better these past two days, since all he's been doing is resting and regaining his strength. Nick's heard him rummaging around at night, and he's been making himself something of a nest out of the crap left with him. Nick's even heard him talking, although it's anyone's guess who he thinks is listening. Considering how quiet and withdrawn he is when Nick brings him his meals, he doesn't seem interested in what real people have to say.

Honestly, if Nick hadn't been an integral part of John's survival for the past week, he'd think the whole thing was some kind of ploy. Nick's not sure what John would be planning with this act for sympathy, but he isn't going to make the same mistake he did all those years ago and write him off as some rich, coked-out jackass with no thoughts to his name. He's not going to let John sit around and finalize whatever evil machinations he's got brewing in his mind. He's gonna work that sad-sack until the only thing John's thinking about is collapsing from exhaustion.

Nick doesn't reveal his plans until after breakfast. He doesn't want to ruin his favorite meal of the day, not when he can rest aimlessly beside his family around the table, eating ham and eggs while Kim brews coffee. It's the closest they'll ever get to the way life used to be, and Nick can pretend that everything is back to normal as long as he has a cup of coffee in hand. Hell, it's not like watching his eight-year-old daughter methodically clean the family rifle during breakfast is all that weird for Hope County, with or without the apocalypse.

It's probably a good thing that Carmina is distracted. If she realized today was the day John would be seeing sunlight, she'd refuse to go anywhere until her curiosity was satisfied. They've told her as little as they can get away with, given that they're keeping a man prisoner across the hall from them. Mostly that he's a very sick stranger who could make little girls very sick too. She'd bought it for the most part, but Nick's afraid that she won't be able to contain her curiosity for much longer.

"Think I'm gonna get some stuff done while you're gone," he tells Kim, glancing significantly towards the stairs while Carmina isn't looking. "We need to deal with the second floor sooner rather than later."

"Are you sure?" she asks, raising her eyebrows meaningfully back at him. "Is this something you can do on your own?"

"Better to not put it off anymore," Nick replies. "It'll be easier if I have the place to myself, anyway. Less, uh, confusion."

That said, he puts the chore off for almost half an hour after Kim and Carmina head out. He tries to prepare, but there's not much he can do to close off the exits, and it only takes a few minutes to drag all the necessary supplies into place. All he can do at this point is hope that John is only strong enough to help, and not strong enough to run at the first chance he gets. If he does that, Nick's going to have no choice but to shoot him.

Nick does his best to hide his nerves as he unlocks the door. It feels weird to knock so he doesn't, pushing the door open slowly enough for the hinges to creak. John should just be thankful Nick bothers to try giving him any sort of head's up.

John, ungrateful bastard that he is, sleeps through Nick's entrance. He's found the cheap wool guest blanket that Nick would never dream of actually offering to guests, which seems fitting. His shirt is crumpled next to him, leaving Nick with the unfortunate view of his bare torso.

Nick's seen John shirtless a few times now, but that doesn't make it any easier to stomach. His skin is stretched over his jutting shoulder blades, clinging to every sharp, bony angle of his spine. Nick knows there's not much else for it to cling to - he's seen the way John's stomach sags, too much skin with not enough meat to hang on to. It's all been eaten away from months, maybe even years , of malnutrition and inactivity. The only thing left of the man Nick remembers is a goddamn shadow. Looking down at John, Nick's left to wonder how he had survived at all.

Nick nudges John unkindly with his boot, ignoring the grunt of discomfort he gets in return. "Come on," he snaps, "It's morning. If the sun's up, you're up — this isn't the goddamn Hope County Hilton."

John groans, biting his tongue against whatever snide comment might come to mind. That's too bad — Nick would love to start today off with an ethically-sourced beat-down.

Even though he wants to, Nick refuses to look away as John sits up, revealing all of his tattoos and scars. The tattoos are nothing new, and some of the scars look pre-Collapse old, but John obviously didn't let the bunker curb his self-mutilating tendencies. Some of the tattoos have been ritualistically carved out, leaving flat slabs of scar tissue behind. Others have been scratched out less completely, seemingly at random. The worst part is seeing the ten deep, half-moon gouges in his shoulders, leaving behind raw, fresh scars. Nick can only imagine what led to their creation, but he would really rather not.

"Put your shirt on and eat quick," Nick tells him, setting the plate near enough to John before retreating to wait by the door. The more space he has between them, the better. If John is going to pull something, Nick wants to have room to grab his gun, or at least to brace for a fight. And anyway, John still eats like a mongrel and it's uncomfortable to watch.

"Time to put me to work?" John asks skeptically as he drags his shirt over his torso.

"You bet," Nick replies. Should he be a cagey dick about it? Part of him thinks so, out of spite, but realistically he should temper John's expectations. Nick isn't going to be capable of putting John through the kind of torture he's probably expecting. So, he points out the dipping corner and says, "This whole floor is gonna give out if we don't do something about it. Well, I say we , but I mean you ."

John regards the spot with more skepticism. "That's it?"

"You haven't even seen how much of the house you're going to be digging out of the dirt," Nick points out. "Come on, hurry up already, I don't have all day."

——

Despite being sick as a dog, John's strength is still something to be reckoned with. Nick watches uneasily at first as John makes short work of clearing space for the beam to stand, heaving shovelfuls of dirt out the open window without regard to his wasted muscles. If John decides to come at him with that shovel, it's going to be Nick's reflexes that save him, not his brute strength. Nick's reflexes aren't exactly the best these days, so Nick hopes it doesn't come to that.

It doesn't seem like John is interested in fighting, though. Nick sets him to work with the shovel and he takes it up without so much as a snide comment about Nick trying to order him around. He slings dirt silently, practically zoning out over the manual labor as Nick watches from his side of the room. It's almost like he's in a trance or something, and it's only broken when the shovel scrapes against the wooden floorboards. He comes to a sudden stop, staring at the floor in surprise. He looks up and around, fixing a sour glare at the wide-open back porch that Nick is standing guard in front of before finally looking at Nick himself.

"That's it?"

"Hell no, it isn't," Nick sighs, gesturing towards the beam that he'd dragged in from the woodpile outside. It doesn't rain much nowadays, so it hasn't gone to rot, and it should be just about level with the supports in the ceiling. Plus, it's already got the right hardware attached, and most of it even survived the nuclear blast.

"Come on," he tells John, "You're putting this up."

Still no backtalk, not even as Nick gets his own hands dirty and helps John prop the beam up. He remains silent as Nick fastens it in place with the only three-inch bolts left in America. It's a temporary solution, but Nick's proud of it anyway, and he steps back to admire the work. He has to admit, even if John is planning something, at least his plan involves actually being useful.

"That should work for now," he says. He scratches the back of his head as he regards John — what does he do with the guy now? It seems like a waste to just... jam him back up there. He's obviously capable of working, and that's what Nick said he'd do — break his back with manual labor, right?

"Well, now that we're done with that... I guess you can get to work shoveling the rest of this dirt outta here. It's been pretty low on the list, but it's not like you've got anything better to do."

"No, I suppose not."

"Hey now, what happened to just saying yes ?" Nick grins, feeling mean but still pretty funny for it. John scowls, but he's just not the right audience for the joke, so his opinion doesn't count.

" Yes, sir ," John replies. He's probably just being a dick, but the way he says it roils Nick's stomach on impact.

"Hey, none of that shit," Nick snaps, even though he probably should lean into the boss role while he can. "Just — don't be a fucking weirdo about this, okay?"

John frowns and doesn't respond. He doesn't need Nick to instruct him any further, returning to work with the shovel as though he's forgotten he ever stopped. Nick keeps an eye on him as he has lunch, waiting for John to drop the weird, quiet obedience act that he's been putting on. It has to be an act. John's just using their mercy for his own ends, using them for shelter and food while waiting for the opportunity to strike. To take the house and the guns, to take control of everything that he'd felt so obligated to eight years ago.

An hour goes by in silence. John works steadily, almost meditatively shoveling down to the floorboards, dumping shovelfuls of dirt out the nearest window to him. He's lost in his thoughts, so much so that he doesn't seem to notice as he clears out nearly half of the living room, the shovel scraping against wood like the beat of the drum that's distracting the poor motherfucker.

Eventually, Nick can't help but point out, "You don't talk as much as you used to."

John doesn't so much as look at him, which is more irritating than Nick wants to let on. What, is he supposed to shut up now, too? Forget that !

"I mean, you used to never shut the fuck up. Guess even you couldn't stand listening to yourself for eight years solid, huh?"

John grunts in response. He doesn't look so hot; his face is pale and drenched in sweat, and he seems to be relying on the shovel to steady himself. Nick squints, trying to figure out whether or not the guy is trying to pull a fast one on him — it's exactly the kind of thing Nick would do, if he were being held captive — but John doesn't seem to notice Nick's scrutiny at all. He seems miles away from the house, from himself.

Goddamn it. The more Nick watches, the less comfortable he becomes. "Alright, come on," Nick sighs, exasperation masking his discomfort at seeing John near-fainting. "That's enough for one day, now sit down before you fall down."

It's a toss-up which of those options John takes, but moments later he's flopped backward into the mound of dirt. He leaves streaks of mud across his face where he wipes away the sweat. Nick watches, waiting for the asshole to spring his trap, but John looks sincerely too beat up to try wrestling the gun away or making a break for it. His hair, thick with dust, clumps over his face, dropping into his eyes no matter how many times he tries to smooth it back.

To his personal horror, he finds himself offering John his canteen. He should leave John to drink his own spit with their fresh water supply as low as it is. It's what the man deserves. But they've wasted too much time and supplies on John to be stingy with the water now.

"Don't get too comfortable lying in the dirt," Nick points out, "I'm gonna put you back before Kim and Carmina get home."

John nods without complaint. He takes careful sips of water, like he's trying to mind how much he's taking, which is a fucking riot coming from the guy who did nothing but take, take, take for years.

"It's the nursery, isn't it?"

Nick stares down at the dirty bastard in confusion. "What?"

"The room," John repeats with a suspicious lack of irritation. "It was going to be the nursery."

Nick scowls. "Yeah," he says. "Not that it ever panned out."

John holds the canteen out for Nick to take back, which he does. "No," he admits, "It certainly did not."

"No thanks to you." Nick takes a thirsty swig of water. "None of you got a chance to raid our bunker, but there were a lot of other people who weren't so lucky. Lots of people didn't even have a house to hide in."

"Yes," John sighs, "I know."

The nerve John has to brush aside the damage he's done momentarily overwhelms Nick, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's chucking the canteen at John's head in a vicious game of dodge-ball that John just barely wins. "No, you don't know. You managed to find somewhere to survive for eight years, while good, honest people were left to rot away on the surface and suffer through nuclear winter because you burned down their houses, you stole their supplies, you ruined their lives! You destroyed everything before the police ever showed up! You sorry assholes kept talking about the Collapse while all of us were already living through it! Because of you ! You know ? Fuck you!"

Nick reaches his hand out to grab John, to — to strangle him, to shake him , anything to stop him from sitting there and staring cow-eyed up at him. Waiting for Nick to exact a physical price for all the anguish that he's caused, waiting for the inevitable retribution that he deserves.

But eight years is a long time to carry so much righteous anger. Nick must've set it down somewhere along the way; now that it's time to resume that bitter loathing, he finds himself coming up short. Honestly, he's too goddamn old for it. He's too tired. Eight years of fatherhood and living past the end of mankind has run the rage right out of him. The idea of expending that much effort just exhausts him. What would even be the point? John isn't even worth it.

"Just — get up," Nick sighs at last. "Kim'll be back in a while and I... don't want to look at you anymore."

John slumps into himself as he stands, shoulders caving in as he avoids looking higher than Nick's boots. He proceeds without complaint or comment up the stairs; despite that, Nick still braces himself for a surprise attack, his hand clinging to the holster. He stops at the doorway behind John, waiting for some trap to spring and feeling oddly put out when nothing happens.

"I'll bring you dinner later," Nick tells him. "From now on, you're only getting a second meal on days you work."

John nods in response, falling into his makeshift bed with as much grace as he had the dirt pile downstairs. Nick's not sure he's gonna be awake the next time he checks in, but that's probably for the best. Nick doesn't like watching the guy eat, and he hates having to interact with him.

When John fails to say anything, Nick uses his silence as an exit and quickly locks John away. He'll probably sleep until dinner, which means he'll spend all night muttering to himself again. That's just what Nick needs.

There's still time before Kim gets back with Carmina. Nick drags the dining table into the living room, taking a minute to marvel at the amount of dirt John managed to clear out. Maybe tomorrow, Kim can take Carmina on a hike or something so that he can have John do the rest of the room. Once the dirt's all cleared out, they'll be able to build proper doors for the back porch, instead of leaving it open to the elements and potential prison breaks. After that, who knows? Maybe they'll be able to string lights up in here like they did back at the Spread Eagle. They could actually find a use for the generator. Hurk was on the radio recently, boasting about party liquor and gasoline — maybe they could barter for fuel?

Thinking more than a year ahead is jumping the gun a little, especially considering they have to get through another winter without heat, but this is the first time Nick's let himself imagine that far. Kim is already prepping for next year, of course, but Nick's still a little stuck on bunker time, where everything felt like a tightrope walk to survive and keep sane. But now, well — there's floor space, and Nick's even stacked plates and silverware on the kitchen counter for dinner. It's progress that he can't miss, and for once he breathes a sigh of relief and actually feels relieved.

Kim and Carmina come back before dusk with three rabbits and, in Carmina's case, a turkey so big that it nearly drags on the ground as she carries it on her back. "Shot it herself," Kim tells him, dropping the rabbits on the table. She does it almost without a second thought, wrapping her arms around Nick before realizing, "Oh, the table's back!"

Nick grins. "Figured we could use the extra space. Look at you, kiddo!" Nick turns his attention to Carmina, who still has the turkey slung triumphantly over her shoulder. "That is one big bird."

"Yeah," she says, trying to look as casually confident as her mom. She can't help but brag, "It was coming right at us. I had to do something. "

"That's my girl," Nick says, "I need somebody to protect your mom whenever I'm not around."

"Hey," Kim protests, playfully shoving out of her supposedly loving husband's grasp, "I can protect myself, you two. Carmina, take that thing into the kitchen and start plucking."

Heaving a very exasperated sigh she must have lifted off of her dad, Carmina drags the limp poultry away. Kim watches her go with a satisfied smile, telling Nick, "She's got great eyesight. I didn't even notice it in the grass."

"Thank God. Can you imagine if she needed glasses out here? We would be royally screwed. So! What do you think?"

Kim looks back at the clear floor and the table with four legs on solid ground. "I admit, I'm impressed," she says. "I expected to come back to a funeral pyre. But look, you even got the support in!" She furrows her brows at him. "Did you have any trouble?"

"Nah. Actually, it was... uh, painfully easy. He didn't put up a fight or anything."

"Hmm."

Nick's not sure what Kim's thinking as she eyes the progress that's been made. Maybe she's wondering what John's endgame is, the same way Nick wonders. She's probably worrying about how to explain it to anyone who might ask about it — Grace, mostly, maybe Jerome, if he'd ever come out this way. Nick's sure he can just take credit and leave it at that, but maybe she's seeing some hidden angle that he hasn't caught on to yet?

"If we string some lights up in here," Kim points out thoughtfully, "We might actually be able to use the bottom floor, instead of camping outside all day."

"Hey," Nick laughs, "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Am I supposed to pluck this whole thing myself ?" Carmina exclaims in horror from the kitchen.

"I'll be right there, honey," Nick calls, offering Kim a chair at the table. She takes it with a grateful smile, leaning into his hand as he briefly strokes her hair. "Not bad for a day's worth of work, huh?"

"Not bad," Kim agrees. Nick heads for the kitchen, unable to keep from humming some old-world song he can't remember the words to, happy to put aside his doubts about John for a couple of hours yet.

[ts-akhmim]

Episode 8 | ”Being a muppet is a contagious disease. ” - Ali

omg so?! i need to do a proper long confessional and go through my thoughts because i just got like a tsunami of information but... jake lived?! and idoled out scott who i thought was gonna win?! hello?!? i'm so so so excited because now i get to work with jake and he is SUCH a shield, and me/him/autumn are gonna ride off into the sunset im manifesting it.

what the HELL is going on here first jake pulls out an idol (which i was JUST gossipping with jordan pines about him having it because i know just how he plays and would ya look at that!) i was so ELATED to read he did that, thinking ok, i gave him a fair warning those false beauties we're gonna get us all, and they voted him unanimously so surely he'll take one of them out and ... HE TAKES OUT SCOTT?? i dont even have time to process this bafoonery yet because here i am, minding my business, trying to watch micronesia to heal the hole in my heart left by w*nners at w*r, eating a piece of pizza and then BOOM we merge?? but oh ok! they said we get a nice little break, lemme not stress and go back to eating my piz- NOPE THERE IS SO SUCH THING AS A BREAK IN SURVIVOR GORL I SWEAR I PUT MY PHONE DOWN TO GET ONE BITE, I COULDNT EVEN ENJOY MY EXTRA CHEESE BECAUSE MY TELEPHONE IS BLOWING UPPPP people are spilling tea left and right, i probably dont even have time to write this so i gotta keep it short and sweet; the false beautys are really trying to slide in my pms and sing kumbaya and if they wanna sing with me, bring it on because they are not a songstress like i am, ill riff run and harmonize yall right off this island. PERIOD. ive been REALLY trying to play up this card where im just some dumb bitch, let everyone keep thinking im the mayor of boo boo the foolsville, but i know a lot more than i let on so catch the tea on that

i swear for it being our "day off" this sure has been the most work i feel like ive had in a hot minute first of all fuck the tomb but FUCK this pyramid even more the second it was announced i found the extra link to the slide puzzle on the blog within SECONDS but 1) i suck at slide puzzles and 2) MY COMPUTER CRASHED HALF WAY THROUGH IT SO I HAD TO START AGAIN. literally took me 2 hours to finish, so that was embarrassing, then much like how the tomb had questions, this pyramid has a hashi puzzle to solve in EIGHT MINUTES....which i dont even know what the fuck that is sorry to this hashi man i gave a good effort but didnt get it in time, so im gonna try again tomorrow of course but im sure someone who isnt a dumbass had better luck than me and got it so thats that on that ....also gorl some of these people aka kendall really got the audacity, she messages me today and is like IS JAKEY COMING TO YOU SAYING STUFF ABOUT ME TRYING TO PIT US AGAINST EACH OTHER oh gorl, if only you knew its ME going to jakey saying shit about YOU trying to get him against YOU, because your first mistake was trying to prepare an alliance to vote me out, your second mistake was running around telling everyone i have an idol, and your third mistake was making an enemy of jakey, now there's this angry jakey on the loose and im gonna just try to work my magic to tame him and keep him like a pet dragon on my side to get them out and then deal with whether i think ill be able to trust him going foward, but again, i know i voted him out last game so i cant rule out him trying to target me already, especially if somehow worst case scenerio people try to pick us off first for knowing each other also had a call with augusto which was.... interesting, look, i genuinely like him as a person even though i still feel some type of way about him turning fake on me, so i definitely want to maintain a friendship with him even if it's hard for me to just stomach talking to him because of how stupid he must think i am, keep your friends close but your frenemys closer!! then i just had a call with devon too which was also interesting because, i do like him as a person, but idk how to feel about it!!! after all of them lying to me in the beginning im already feeling PTSD and dont know if i can trust anyone, but he gave me some valuable information even more so just reaffirming them all thinking i have the idol which i know is a crock of bs because DAMMIT IVE TRIED I JUST DONT HAVE IT. I know amir has it, it's so obvious to me, maybe augusto?? but i think amir. apparently devon also just kinda said he think he could see the first vote coming down to me or jakey or even him which.......makes me really nervous, i wasnt planning on fighting for immunity at the auction i wouldve rather had an advantage of some sort, but i think with this cast, and the amount of intertwined relationships going into this first tribal, i want that immunity necklace and im gonna do my damndest to get it OKAYYY this game is going to drive me insane, i feel like ive been running my mouth TOO much and talking to too many people and am gonna get voted out for it but i also simultaneously feel like i havent talked to people no where near enough and, am gonna be voted out for it so ???buckle the fuck up ladies we've officially boarded the confusion express so im just gonna try and sit back and enjoy the ride ig

Welp we are on the bottom... shit. I'm going to be honest, this week has not been great for me. Like my real life is slowly going to shit and now my fake life has been screwed. Thanks Jakey... you dick. All is not lost, because out there in the distance is the iconic duo of Jordan Pines and Kendall Duffy AKA Sarah and Woo. You know, Sarah and Woo. That iconic duo in Cagayan. Remember that one time Sarah walked up to Woo and said "Sup I'm Sarah," and he nodded and said "Woo". And that other time they were sitting on the same log laughing at something Tony said? That is stuff of legends man. Okay so genuinely Jordan meant to say Tony and Woo but he accidentally said Sarah and Woo and now this is our legacy. The plan is to play it both ways. As this isn't going to be a simple Pangonging. Obviously a beauty is going to leave but before we all go, they are going to try to get rid of some of the brawns. The goal is that the beauty isn't me and the brawn isn't Jordan. I know you're legally not supposed to trust Jordan Pines but it's never really been the case for me? IDK maybe it's cause he always gets sniped before I betray him. Maybe it's cause the one time he voted me out it was cause I committed suicide by cop. But for the most part he's a realible ally. Also this would be a shitty and stupid lie right? Like he knows I don't have an idol, literally everyone knows that! Trying to get in my good graces is a terrible fucking idea, Jesus. Right now I'm just going to market myself and the others as a free vote. I know it's not realistic to get Augusto and Amir to the finals but it's all I really want. We've been through shit together. I don't want to be put in a position to get them out. I also believe that either Jakey and Ali has the idol. So this round I'm going to flush it. I'm not going to be able to get him out, I just need him to believe he's going to be voted out. He's a very paranoid individual, it shouldn't be too difficult.... I am not going home tonight. I refuse to. 

okay so i haven't done a good typed confessional in a WHILE and i have thoughts. so i'm basically really frustrated with a lot of this tribe and i don't know how to vocalise it. but first the positives.. the fact that i have an alliance of me/autumn/jake brings me such a rush of seretonin, i love them both and i will fight my hardest to get the three of us to the endgame of this game. i think rn my goal final five is me/jake/autumn/adam/devon, adam because i dont think he is playing this game as well as he necessarily thinks he is, but i also think we have trust and he is someone who is scoop-up-able? and then devon i get good energy from him and his straightforward energy i'd like to see in the endgame. the rest however.... whew. well actually Liam is fine, he is sweet and doing his best. of the rest tho... hmm. kendall's energy doesn't quite land with me, her dry sense of humour doesn't really work with me ha so i feel like we are gonna struggle to gel as allies (especially since we are either side of the weird brawn/beauty divide). augusto is very chatty but its a lot of chatting for... the sake of it, like his social game is to just overwhelm you with lots of messages but its nothing of substance. amir i actually like!! he has me-energy, i would actually like him to stick around (he is a good shield too). duncan i am still sus about from premerge, but i'd love to mend that bond because i might need duncan?! tj and jordan both give snake energy... tj is suddenly back to being non-commital with me and it frustrates me, i wish he would like... talk to me KJLSADF. jordan is the same i always get weird energy from him and he was in that weird alliance during the swap and didn't tell me... feel a f10 boot for jordan ideally. honestly its just frustrating i feel like everyone on this tribe is so cagey and like just thinks talking a lot is social game?! and its... not. but yeah ideally first four merge boots: kendall, augusto, tj & jordan (tho the last two is open to consideration if they stop being shady to me KJSDFA).

I just got immunity in the auction and I feel like I wasted a chance to get some long term for my game. Because I wasn't going anywhere this round (I don't think), but like at least it prevented some other people from getting it which allows me some room to make a couple moves without too many repercussions. In terms of social standing, I truly think I have put myself in a good spot. Jakey and Jordan have both said they want me to be their number ones; Devon also has said the same and has told me that he holds the Double Vote. I know that Autumn and Duncan are both willing to work with me in our alliance with Jordan. Liam and I have bonded quite a bit. And I get good vibes from Augusto, Kendall, and Adam. So the big question now is, my target at the moment is Amir... how do I get him out? I need to break up Amir, Augusto, and Kendall so that I have a better chance of working with Augusto specifically down the line and hopefully Kendall as well. I have a feeling that Adam will push for one of the trio and the trio will push for Adam or Jakey, which should give me plenty of ammo to try and make that move. Correction to my last confessional... the trio can't target Jakey because he's immune. Suck it!

i really... really just got my second idol huh... i cant believe it. i bodied that idol hunt, i sat their trying like six hundred combos for the morse code, got that demonic tile and did that evil hashi puzzle... im so happy hehe okay so ignore my super jaded confessional from yesterday im back in again akdjfsaf im literally on a reign of terror doing harsh confessionals then apologising but askdjfafa we move. so yesterday was a real busy day, we had the auction, i called lots of people and... i got myself a little bit of bling. with the auction first, it was really interesting. i misunderstood the "idol block" so i snatched it up, but then it just blocks hunting for the idol versus playing one, but for my mental health am glad i have that. i also got the vote revealer, which was like a mid-tier thing that im happy to have just got a second thing tbh. then i had like six hundred calls kaljsdfas. i called with devon first, he is really sweet and we had a great talk tbh? i really like him and hope we stick together. i did then go on to have very similar conversations to the one i had with him, with augusto and amir, but i felt best about the conversation me and devon had tbh. augusto is sweet, and very social. like i'd prefer to vote him to kendall, but i like him ha and feel like we have a bond now. i think i could be a good number moving forwards (i wouldn't want him gone 11th/10th). amir is also very nice, we are calling tomorrow, and i just dont think targetting amir is in my best interest rn? like what's the end goal in doing that. so then right now. i think i want the merge vote to be kendall? i feel like if we let that trio slide, its scary, and i have a closer connection to amir and augusto of the three. i think then the brawn tribe can turn inwards, but im eager to push the brawn tribe like "implosion" until after that trio is taken apart (to the style of splitting up alex c/jones/mo from montenegro) also otherwise i got an IDOLLL, or rather my second hehe. i put in a LOT of work to get it, i translated morse code, i did a demonic hashi puzzle, i got the 2048 tile. i earned this idol and im very proud. now i have two idols so have such wiggle room. and i'm building bonds across the tribe... im not saying im set, but... im covered for the time being

okay so im a clown and got frustrated with jordan for telling jake he was hesitant to keep me in... jordan just told me he has been downplaying our connection to people like jake KJLSDAFA so i fully just bought into nothing.

i am starting to feel my standing in the game rise, like im building bonds... everywhere. like im starting to become set to go the distance because i have lots of lowkey social bonds and because im not overtly super strategic i dont think i seem as threatening.

okay so ideal merge bootlist: f4: me/autumn/jake/devon, adam (5th), liam/jordan (6th/7th), amir (8th), duncan (9th), augusto (10th), tj (11th), kendall (12th) and then at the moment the order i would vote for people as a juror (bringing this back from montenegro): jake > autumn > amir > jordan > duncan(?) > devon > augusto > adam > tj > kendall > liam because i think jake has already idoled someone, and to make it to f3 after that is super impressive. autumn is a queen, has real strategic savvy and will have made moves to get to the end. amir is very much like autumn and him making it to the end. jordan is an amazing player and tbh deserves a win. duncan is really in game-mode and id love to see him in FTC (what a role reversal), devon has a real rootable underdog story, augusto is a social king, adam needs to pick it up beyond just targetting beauties to get my vote. tj/kendall are question marks for me, and then liam i LOVE but he doesn't necessarily 100% want to be here so i would be tentative to vote him. but its crazy because i think: jake/autumn/devon/adam/liam/jordan/amir/duncan... all trust me to some extent that's... such a large portion of the tribe. so i need to be careful im not scorning people too much, but this is a real work-able situation i think ahh

Interesting development that both Kendall and Amir want/wanted to call and talk to me. I just finished talking to Kendall (she is so sweet, I enjoy talking to her!) and I definitely see an avenue where we work together, but I am concerned that there does seem to be a guard up, which I totally understand given that we haven't been on a tribe together. We both kind of mentioned that Liam has been flirting with the idea of asking to be voted out which gave me an avenue to not say that the name I would throw out is Amir. I do hope that Liam isn't adamant about going because I truly do care for him and want him to stay in this game. I picked up a great ally in him after the initial Brawn vote and losing him now won't be fun. It does dispel this Brawn alliance people probably expect to be happening, but am I at ease with Liam going to facilitate that? But if that happens, that delays the fight between Adam/Jakey against the trio of Augusto/Amir/Kendall, which in fact would be good for me as it allows me to slide by for another week... ugh, decisions decisions. Why do I feel like this first vote could determine the rest of my game?

So Liam still wants to be in the game, which is good. I can easily work with that. Yes, I feel awful telling Kendall I thought the vote would be Liam, but now that he seems to want to be in the game, I think I can work with Liam possibly staying. I still have to wait it out and listen to what some others think, but I may be back on the board of going for one of the trio. I know Jakey wants to do Kendall, but I don't want her to go just yet. Eventually, yeah probably, but I do want her here.

Whew merge merge merge. Tonight is the first night to play my legacy advantage, i could block a vote but honestly im probably not going to. Id be pretty caught off guard if i was the target tonight and I think id rather let it fester to an idol, whether for me or someone else later tha depends on my game play. Last night was the auction and boy did jordan win big, i got a whole vote steal that im pretty sure no one knows about. I created a believable (i think) lie about what i bid on and spread and thankfully adam came out the gate with a super fact checkable lie about the auction so i think most of the heats on him. For the vote it could be a beauty butpart of me really sees liam going home just cause people are so scared of how many brawn are in the game, and like thats fine i can deal with that. I am slowly building my relationships to the point where i can get the ball rolling enough to do some damage. Ive been biding my time in the shadows for most of this game, but Jordan Pines is about to rise!

this round is what we call a mixed bag like the auction? hated that girl. I saved my money and all I got was a drawing like sis this is the Survivor Auction not an actual auction ;-; but other than that, I’ve felt really good about how I’ve been playing? Like always, I’m trying to be the Belle of the Ball and have everyone want me as a date yknow? Currently, I have my main allies (Amir, Kendall, Devon) but others (Autumn, Duncan, Ali, Jordan, Jakey) have expressed that they want to work with me which is cute! I don’t know who to trust tho ngl but yay? My main priority is getting my footing in the game this first round and hopefully getting out a Brawn. The main two I want gone from the Brawns are Liam M and Jordan Pines. Liam M is the easier sell and I don’t mind that, Jordan Pines is someone I want gone soon though. I also want Adam gone if at all possible sometime soon but we shall see! 

i take it back jordan and duncan can go again...? literally like both of them preach up and down that we are gonna work together, then pull shady stuff like saying me and adam are a duo in their alliance chat of gremlins with love of my life autumn and professional robot tj?! literally just because y'all linked up at swap and think you are gods gift to alliances doesnt mean me and adam are a duo? i just talk to him and actually give him a chance in this game unlike like... 99% of this cast. now i cant really defend adam at all or people are gonna try and snap my neck? which sucks... adam was in my endgame but because i see him having a losing finalist arc versus me being a duo with him. so that sucks but well. it just reconfirms to me that i have to trust autumn. which is not hard because i literally love her sm and i want to see thrive in this season. so i am praying it works out. this cast continues to prove that being a muppet is a contagious disease.

im absolutely LIVID right now.... i dont even know where to begin ?? let's start with this: are we playing SURVIVOR or are we playing america's next top CLOWN?? because based on how silly all these people are it doesnt seem like survivor. this is my 3rd time playing this game, and never once have i ever made it to a merge where .... every single person wants to just settle on one name since they're the "easy" vote.... and yet that's all im being told with people wanting to vote liam?? at this point i hope the plan is to vote ME out and everyone is just telling me liam because i dont want to play the game with a bunch of feeble minded school of fish who have no backbone. first of all everyone has wanted to do nothing but play that ANNOYING ass "ooh its been quiet i havent heard a name yet" game for the entire day. We're 3 hours before tribal and all the sudden everyone wants to sing kumbaya and vote for liam??? because he's not around, which guess what it does make him an easy vote but....this is survivor why would you EVER vote that person off in the merge right away, he can literally go next or any other time. I refuse to sit back and just conform to it, ill probably end up having to, but im gonna try to push what to ME makes the most sense, not only for myself but for everyone... to get one of those 3 false beautys out. I've been going to a lot of people and basically saying "Let me break it down for you: one of them 150% has the idol??? and thanks to the suvivor auction, and based on what ive gathered from people they probably have advantages too.....why waste this vote being "easy" because then next round....they're gonna know it'll be one of them and so......they're gonna play all their shit and take someone out, and i absolutely reserve the right to laugh at whoever it is because theyre an idiot and didnt want to wake up and play the game (unless it's me of course oop) I've approached, jakey, autumn, duncan, jordan, ali, devon, tj, pretty much ANYONE who has a brain to just state the obvious.....its stupid getting liam out. literally the stupidest and quite frankly downright embarrassing move to make for a group of players of this caliber. and you know what responses ive gotten? "oh its too soon to rock the boat" "we have to get one of those brawns out" "yeah we just have to go with the brains on this one" ??? too soon??? at merge??????? to play the game of survivor??????????? at this point im about to try and just tell liam with the very slim chance that he has an idol and can use it on himself because how am i supposed to try and play the game of survivor with people who dont want to play its frustrating. **update as i was writing this i just had a call with jordan pines, im not as mad anymore after smoking weed with him for like 20 minutes ahfdd but its BORING LIKE WAKE UP PEARL LETS PLAY SURVIVOR...i probably made a big mistake pushing those 3 to as many people as i just did but whatever hopefully it at least planted seeds with people and people actually try and approach me in the future rounds with that idea again in other news, the auction happened and i got the power to go to the prejuror island and plead my case with them regarding this next vote, no one was even there so that was lovely i felt like i was talking to myself so nothing new there, i peeped connor was online but didnt have anything to say when i showed up, much like how he never had anything good to say in the game and that's why he was voted out, but ANYWAY. im pissed i made a case to them to vote for amir and now no one will even make the move with me. I also bought a challenge advantage which i wanted MOSTLY so i could just tell people thats what i got from it because to me i suck at challenges anyway, so it shouldnt paint as much of a target on my back and i want people to know i dont have one of those really scary ones (and i also want to keep making people think amir or kendall has something good), but ali did confide in me he has the vote reveal which made me trust him a lot more, and i dont plan on revealing to anyone what he told me so anywho, tribal is NOT gonna go my way tonight, i tried to make a move but liam is unfortunately completely unsaveable because he's not around even though i do like talking to him personally, i opened the door to people and it just got slammed in my face but in this game you have to learn when to drop it so im hoping i dropped it fast enough to not be a future target because people could still very well vote me out next because they'd be taking out the only real beauty left!

tj, jordan and duncan are all going home as soon as possible. they really think they are slick and they are not. they think they can badmouth me, my game and my position and it wont get back to me. there is a word for it and it is clownery. one of them is going to get to stepping really soon. maybe jordan.

also i cant be too mad at liam because im voting him but i wish it wasnt like this. well. what can you do. if he plays an idol im playing mine.

Now that we're told the right day... Well, it looks like most people are back on the Liam Train, and damn I really don't want this move to be made. Like, yes, it will set me up well moving forward: less "Brawn Alliance" hype, more battles between Adam/Ali vs. Beauty Babes, and a decent amount of social mobility for me. But this just feels like a giant waste and I don't know how to stop this at this rate.

First of all: YAASSSSSSSS WE LOVE MAKING THE MERGE!!!! I’ve gotten over my Scott grief and actually am pretty content with him out of the game since he was a big contender to win it all. The time I’ve been able to spend talking to people has been amazing and I feel like I genuinely have a good relationship with everyone on the tribe besides Liam, which is why I’m happy to see him go. He’s a really nice guy but he’s not adding anything to my game. I expect the vote to go 11-1-1 tonight. I could always get idoled out or blindsided and that would suck but you try your best and do what you can! I think I have EXCELLENT relationships with Amir, Jordan and Autumn and that’s like the kingpins of each group so if someone comes after me hopefully I’ll hear about it one way or another. I need to get my head out of Amir’s ass though, I’m most excited to play with him and we called for literally 2 hours and 50 minutes yesterday. I’ve always thought he was cute and intelligent from when I was in the community before and I fangirled getting to play with him. I like to think I’m in a good position in this game so far, we’ll see as the game progresses. One last thing? ADAM!? SIS?!?! EVERYONE IS AWARE YOU LIED TO THEM! YOUR ASS IS GOING HOME NEXT! PERIODT!! (Hopefully I’ll be here to help vote you out lol

Well, here we are? This is where my game was MADE back in Guyana, however, I clearly don't have a solidified alliance I am willing to take to the end at this stage. We have 5 Brawns, three former winners, a person I voted out in Guyana, two people that voted me out, and a person I tried voting out last round all still in the game. Still, I am going to make the best of it. In the short period of time this game has provided, I have been able to make REALLY solid connections. Not all of them are 100% genuine, but the hope is that they're enough to gain trust and information that I can use to advance my game. 

if i go home tonight im gonna lose my marbles

so basicallyyyy jakey is gathering intel from the other sideand apparently theyre all scared of me, grow up??? im literally harmless wtf

HOHOHOHOOGO WHO WANTS SOME TEA ? SO DUNCAN SPILLED THAT back long ago on original hathor, remember when I was losing my mind thinking aj ratted everything to Adam It was THE TRUTH and I’m glad aj has been dealt with. It’s what he deserves .

adam thinks hes so fucking slick running around telling everyone i gotta go and that i have the idol, and then messaging me in my pms trying to call and have a "tea-spilll uwu" when hes just going to use that against me anywayyyy honey u arent as smart as u think u are, and when the time is right, you're getting crucified ADAM CAME TO ME TO BE LIKE "FUCK JAKEY WON IMMUNITY" and im like "ik :( " and he runs to jakey and goes "THE RATS ARE MAD U WON" mark my words if im leaving this game i will blow him tf up on the way out

these people are all rats ALLIANCE: Threats R Us members: jakey ali autumn Source: jakey ALLIANCE: (name unknown) Members: Autumn Duncan TJ Jordan Source: Autumn so autumn ratted on an alliance to me and not the other, which lets me know that she is far more invested in Ali that she is in Duncan. Working with Duncan is not going to save face with autumn, i have to treat her as a separate entity and work with her genuinely if i want safety from ali, like she sold duncan tj and jordan down a river to me so fast i love her so much, i want to work with her but i have to see how far it goes people i want out : adam tj liam ali jordan but rn ill settle for anyone but me cuz no one is talking to me

devon wanted to talk real quick and tellin me that there was a whole ass plan started by adam to get me out, like say the vote is kendall but actually vote for me, and the plan was entertained by brawn, also i told jakey i have the idol, and jakey told me ali has 2 idols a vote reveal and an idol block

[wern]

did i mention when my mom was in toronto for thanksgiving she let me borrow her phone to look something up, and i found the tumblr app open on her phone. i looked at it and she was signed in under an account that was basically just her full name, and she was following only one person, my highschool tumblr account which i last updated 3-4 years ago in 2014

read more bc this is long and talks (really vaguely) about child sexual abuse

she must have followed it within the past year because i logged in there about a year ago just to check things out, and i would have noticed her username. i asked her about it and she was super cagey and clearly lying

this was really hard and weird for me because my trust for her has built up a lot since she fucked up in 2013-ish by getting angry at me for telling the police that my stepdad (who my mom has since started dating, they were just roommates back then) was being sexually inappropriate with me. she'd also witnessed some of the things i told the police about but she said she couldnt remember it and i believed her bc her memory is bad.

so my trust has built back up bc she apologized and has been better, and i believed her when she told me that she tries to respect my privacy, especially when i give her the privilege of knowing private things about me.

so i was really confused about finding my old tumblr open on her phone, especially since she actually knows what my current url (wern) is but isnt following it, i checked. i have no idea if she's looked here or not though. i believed her when she said she hadnt before, but obviously she's fine with lying to me now so

i asked my roommate for help figuring out why she would be following my inactive account, and she said she thought my mom probably likes to look at my old personal posts where i talked about my stepdad being sexually inappropriate with me, before i told my therapist who told the police. just to like make herself feel bad or whatever. idk why she wouldnt be following my current one though. or why she would use her actual name as the url. or why she hasnt been following my old blog the whole time, because she's known the url since child services told her that i had one after the stepdad incident.

none of this bugged me at the time cause like.. whatever i dont use it anymore, but the more i sit with it the more it pisses me off. she lied to my face. she said she had no idea why the tumblr app was downloaded on her phone, or why it was open, or how/when she got an account, or how it was following me

[lotstradamus]

what about the stairs in the forests!!! and what doc were you watching and would you recommend?

ok so I DON’T BELIEVE IN THE STAIRS IN THE FORESTS! mainly because I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service, and I Have Some Stories to Tell a) is posted on /r/nosleep so it’s definitely made up, b) the op admits to knowing about David Paulides, and lbr knowing about = being influenced by, so it’s definitely made up, and c) if you read all the way through to the end it stops being even vaguely believable and starts reading like a WTNV transcript, and then he plugs his book, so it’s DEFINITELY MADE UP. however, it is an amazing (read: terrifying) thread, some of it is obviously based on truths/insider SAR knowledge which means a lot of it is probably uncomfortably close to actually being true, and it’s a good Gateway Read into MISSING PEOPLE IN NATIONAL PARKS CONSPIRACY THEORIES, which is where I live now. (plus, if you read this before getting into anything else it imbues every single missing persons case with an unsettling sense of Eldritch horror, which is why I had to turn on three overheads and unfocus my eyes all the way to the bathroom last night at 2am.) 

so yeah, after reading that /r/nosleep thing for the first time I drew a line under it and moved on until SOMEONE (ahem, @roundtop) sent me a link to an article called How 1,600 People Went Missing from Our Public Lands Without a Trace (on a legit and sensible outdoorsy people website), like ‘haha, stairs in the forest!’ and I SWAN DIVED DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE. thus: the documentary-watching, staying up till 2am and spending all day today trying to find copies of David Paulides’ books for less than $80 inc. postage. 

THIS DUDE DAVID PAULIDES. he was in law enforcement before, for some reason, deciding to become a ~*~cryptozoologist~*~ and certified gung-ho Bigfoot conspiracy theorist, and through that found out about how many people had disappeared without a trace from National Parks in the U.S., did 7,000 hours worth of digging, and wrote a bunch of books about it. his books are called Missing 411 and are about the ridiculous number of people who go missing in National Parks, the usually weird circumstances around their disappearances, the fact that when people are found (dead or alive) it’s often in places miles and miles and sometimes waaaaay higher up mountains than where they disappeared from, and all sorts of creepy crap to boot. like they can’t get bloodhounds to find a scent, or they find tiny children miles away from where they got lost, barefoot, without a scratch on the soles of their feet, human remains being found years later in places that were search dozens and dozens of times. not to mention the National Parks… People (? I really don’t know enough to be making this post) are aware of what’s happening but don’t keep a list of the people who’ve gone missing on their lands. 

(which is all part of why I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service is so freaky – enough of it (people being found miles away, kids being found up mountains, the people in charge being cagey about it all) sounds real that you can believe it was actually written by a SAR Officer. heebies!) 

it’s all real nightmare fuel, if you’re the sort of person who is absolutely terrified by all this Scary Forest Disappearing People Unexplainable Deaths stuff, i.e. me. luckily I can’t afford to buy any of them! phew! however, I haven’t let that stop me from a) SCARING MYSELF SHITLESS and b) BECOMING A TIN HATTER, and it shouldn’t stop you either: you can read loads of stuff over at /r/missing411, listen to one of his initial interviews (in which he talks about how he was approached by two park employees in plain clothes who were like ‘please investigate this, there’s SOMETHING going on and it’s so goddamn weird’) on Coast to Coast AM (which is, like, a paranormal radio station… I’m sorry), watch a bunch of Paulides’/CanAm Missing Project’s vids about disappearances on youtube, and listen to hours worth of interviews and late night spooky radio/podcast discussions with Paulides. 

the documentary I thought I was watching was Missing 411, which is based on his books and Kickstarted by the public in 2015, but it turns out that they’re apparently shopping it around at festivals so it’s not out yet. what I was actually watching (and quickly abandoned) was a weird supercut of all of David Paulides’ tv interviews and some cryptozoologist chatter about Bigfoot. Paulides, god love him, never ever SAYS Bigfoot in any of his books, and everything he presents is 100% factually accurate and extensively researched, but… I think we can safely say he thinks it’s Bigfoot. tbh, after reading about Jaryd Atadero I think it’s Bigfoot. I mean, goddamn. 

so, yeah. I’ve finished reading every search and rescue story on this blog (Hunt for the Death Valley Germans is LONG but awesome), I’ve got West of Memphis ready to watch after work tomorrow because I remembered how much I love that case and spooky true crime things, if you have any related LINKS or STUFF about This Shit then REBLOG THIS/MSG ME AND TELL ME, or if you have a copy of a Missing 411 book you wouldn’t mind mailing to me then LET ME KNOW, and in conclusion I can’t believe America is so fucking huge and unkind, goodnight.