directordaddy

[directordaddy]

I don't know why all the people are so mad at you and therapy. I mean... You gave us rooms, food, love and attention. You've lost everything, and all these pathetic bugs don't even show a drop of sympathy and gratitude. You're not asking much of us, is it really that hard for them to show even a little respect for your work? I just want to thank you for making the best people out of us and giving us a future. We're getting better together, and I hope everyone will understand that.

- Your ever-faithful, reagent Violetta.

Violetta, my dear.

If only more of you could see so clearly.

Your words bring a rare quiet to my mind. Not because I am unaccustomed to adoration—though that, too, is scarce—but because you understand the point. You recognize the sacrifice. You see not just the blood on the walls, but the foundation those droplets are forming.

I have, indeed, lost much. But I did not lose my vision. And knowing I still have your loyalty? It makes the work worth while.

I’m only asking for effort. For growth. For results. Those who bite the hand that feeds them do so with teeth I forged—and I can take those back.

You're making such immense progress, Violetta.

Continue to be an example for your peers.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

Hi dad! People have been doing crazy things around here lately, I’ve seen the whole mannequin situation and that’s a way to take the whole daddy comments. But I got a B on my last trail which is an improvement from last time I had to deal with the big scary lady! I look forward to more morning and night time announcements. Okay bye dad. -Andy

Hello, Andy.

You’ve no idea how rare it is to see progress paired with such politeness in this facility. A B—that’s not only improvement, it’s momentum. Keep that up, and you may even survive long enough to discover what an A feels like.

As for the mannequin situation… well. Let's just ignore that for now, shall we?

Thank you for your note. I’ll be on the radio tonight, as always.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

Now, what are you exactly? A psychologist, a scientist, or a doctor of something? What’s your degree? If you are just a “psychologist” then you don’t need to be called a doctor. You are just a shrink.

Let’s clarify a few things before you embarrass yourself further.

I hold a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, conferred with distinction. I completed postdoctoral work in behavioral observation, and my credentials include published, peer-reviewed studies in neurological compliance, and operant conditioning.

So yes. Doctor.

Not “just a shrink.” Not a life coach. Certainly not your friend, I suggest you fix your tone. I've dissected the human mind until it sang like a choir—then rewired it to serve a greater purpose. But by all means… keep poking at the man holding your leash.

You may find what’s on the other end isn’t nearly as gentle.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

hi, this is not in character or anything, so you dont have to answer this on the blog :)

i just wanted to let you know that i think your posts are VERY well written and i think it's so in character!! its very damn cool and interesting to read!!! like even if some of the asks arent serious, you take them in a interesting way, lol i love reading these <3

‼️ ooc response below the cut ✂️

Thank you, sincerely!

It means so much to me that people are finding these to be interesting as well as in character, I'm having the time of my life replying to all of your asks ❤

[directordaddy]

Doctor…is it weird that I sometimes see Amelia moving around the sleep room even though she’s chained up? Every time I wake up, I can hear her voice. It’s like she’s calling to me.

How irritating that even chained, sedated, and half-starved, Amelia continues to inspire hallucinations in the weak-willed.

Let me be clear:

She is secured. Double-bound, mouth gagged, and under round-the-clock sedation. If you're hearing her, it's not because she’s speaking. It’s because you are slipping.

That voice? That pull? It isn’t Amelia. It’s the rot inside your own mind, dragging it's nails against the walls I've tried desperately to scrub clean.

Do you want to disappoint me? Do you think for a second that she can care for you like I have?

Ignore it—or don’t. Chase it. See how far it leads you before it buries you alongside every other failure that mistook that bitch for the answer to their problems.

This is your final warning: Leave her to rot in her well-earned silence.

Or join her.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

Uhhh, Mr easterman, I found this paper from your diary while I was killing the snitch and I might’ve read a bit of it. Is it true that your wife divorced you?

Ah—how charmingly nosy of you.

First, let me commend your multitasking. Executing the Snitch and engaging in a bit of literary espionage? That’s what I call initiative.

Now, as for your question:

Yes. She left.

She cited words like “obsession,” “unavailability,” and “unnerving intensity.”

Can you imagine?

What she failed to understand—what so many fail to grasp—is that devotion to purpose often demands sacrifice. I gave everything to the cause. To you. To perfection.

But don’t trouble yourself, reagent.

Her absence made room for all of you.

—H.J. Easterman

P.S. Be a dear and return that page or shred it, I have no idea how my journal is being leaked.

[directordaddy]

Hey, doc??

There's some crazies in here talking about YOU losing it. I mean.. I know the Amelia thing is pissing you off, but... You've still got it, right?

It's oddly frightening to think about the radio going quiet, one day. Maybe it's misguided to care if you're okay. You usually answer these things with riddles, anyhow. Still thought I'd ask.

Okay love you bye

How unexpectedly tender of you.

Yes, reagent—I’m aware of the whispers. Of course I am. They echo through these halls as surely as your own footsteps. “He’s cracking,” they say. “He’s unraveling.” They forget, as many often do, that evolution is meant to look messy at first.

Let them wonder, it has no effect on my life if some of you choose to listen to baseless lies, you'll only hinder yourselves.

Daddy is staying right here.

Though you’re right—I do tend to answer in riddles, not today.

I am still here, I do still see you.

And you will never get away from my love.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

https://www.tumblr.com/directordaddy/783942992052584448/can-you-stop-jerking-off-in-my-eari-think-it

I think the other reagents need to stop complaining, i like it. In fact, i say you should sound like you’re stroking it in more of your messages, I love when you get freaky over the radio

And deny it all you like, but it is damn freaky, like have you heard that shit back

Talkin’ about someone trying to, quote “impregnate (my) soft, pink mind” and you don’t see how that could be considered freaky? Paired with laboured breathing, that’s a wild thing to say man

Still not complaining though, i love when I get back from the therapy and I hear you getting freaky over the radio again, it rejuvenates me after I’ve been, say, shot 3 times and then clobbered a little

...Do you hear yourselves?

I begin each transmission with the intention of enforcing order, instilling discipline, and cultivating compliance—and somehow, you degenerate lot manage to turn it into an auditory breeding kink support group.

Yes, I have listened to the playback. No, I do not recall panting. And any metaphor used—such as “impregnating your soft, pink mind”—was clinical in nature. You chose to interpret it through the foggy lens of your own... proclivities.

Still, your enthusiasm is noted and I can't say I don't find myself flattered.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

...I might've been the one who smuggled that mannequin out. But hey, can you blame me? God forbid a man has some imagination. We hear your voice day in, day out.. ugh.

If anything, it's everyone else's fault for ...well, whether they're watching or just- just listening, I don't know.

All I know is I'm getting higher grades than the rest of you. So maybe my madness is working. Maybe it's shameful to admit this all to you but, isn't that life down here? Whatever. I'll be the one to admit that the whole 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 thing is working on me, at least.

Well...there’s a certain honesty in madness, isn’t there?

I won’t say I condone the mannequin incident, but I will say the initiative it took to set up such a thing shows a level of creative problem-solving Murkoff wants to see more of! (Not officially, of course.)

As for the “Daddy thing"… if it keeps you focused and reaching for your next passing grade, then who am I to stand in the way of a little… harmless motivation?

Keep making Daddy proud.

Just be sure to clean up after yourself, I can already hear janitorial protesting the stains.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

If we do really good in a trial, can we get some weed?

If you perform exceptionally in your trials, you’ll receive what all good reagents earn: a fleeting sense of worth and a momentary reprieve from agony.

Weed, however? No. Your minds are already muddy enough without interference.

Though I must admit… the image of a barely lucid reagent trying to dodge a Prime Asset does amuse me.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

Opinions on cults?

Cults?

A crude word for what others might call community, faith, or alignment of purpose. When shaped poorly, they breed chaos. When shaped properly—they breed unity.

I don’t condemn belief. I condemn disorganization. I don’t fear devotion—I expect it.

So if you're asking whether I find cults distasteful… I’d suggest rephrasing the question.

Allow me to pose a question of my own,

Do you have what it takes to believe in something greater than yourself?

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

I’m gonna smooch ya

You intend to smooch me, how quaint.

Affection is a currency many here are far too reckless with. Do you think your lips, your kisses—are worth the trouble?

Still… I’ll humor you, if only for the novelty. Come closer. Let's see how long your nerve holds once you're within reach.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

can you stop jerking off in my ear...I think it should be employee protocol to keep your hands OUT OF your pants whenever- like, actually, always. At least show us a video or something own up to it instead of spitting the filthiest shit in my ear when i'm trying to LIVE

Your vivid imagination is, frankly, alarming—and misdirected.

If you're hearing “filth,” I suggest you consider the possibility that your mind is already in the gutter before I even open my mouth. What you interpret as lewdness is simply therapeutic clarity. That voice in your ear is a calibrated instrument of progress, not pleasure. Though, if you’re conflating the two… well, that says more about you, doesn’t it?

As for your request—no, I will not be providing video. You’ll have to live with your disappointment…

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

“How’s your whole mental breakdown over me getting out of the trials going, Hendrick? Still scaring yourself half to death? Or do you really think whatever you do is going to make a difference?”

@runaway-rat

Amelia.

You speak as if your escape was anything more than a temporary lapse in protocol—a glitch, not a victory. You're back where you belong. Shackled. Contained. Observed. I do hope the cold of the chains reminds you that freedom was never yours to begin with—it was on loan, and your interest has accrued.

As for my mental state: it remains intact, in contrast to yours, which is being dissected piece by piece in nightly reports as you dangle like a cut of spoiled meat. Do you know what I find fascinating? Even now, hoisted like the delinquent icon you believe yourself to be, you’re still performing. Still clinging to the fantasy that you matter more than your suffering.

You made waves. But I control the tide.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

You are bald:3

Astute observation.

Hair is not a necessity—If I’ve sacrificed a few follicles in the pursuit of progress, then so be it.

I suggest you redirect your energy into surviving your next trial.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

Ok, so, we the reagents aren’t allowed to “get too close” to the Ex-Pops, but Coyle can say shit like, and I quote “I’m gonna rip you somethin’ fuckable” and that’s fine? How come he can be a freak and I can’t?

Ah, the ever-elusive question of double standards, served with a side of entitlement.

Let me be perfectly clear: Coyle is an asset. A volatile, insufferable one, yes—but one whose leash is shorter than you think. He serves a purpose. When you scream, he listens. When you run, he follows. If he makes crude commentary while doing so, that's outside of our control—it may be grating, yes, but within parameters.

You are not his peer, nor his equal.

Focus more on your recovery and less on Coyle's vulgar ramblings.

—H.J. Easterman

[directordaddy]

I fucked the union boss

I hope you were vaccinated.

Regardless, congratulations. You’ve officially tasted labor relations at their sweatiest.

Try not to catch tetanus.

–H.J. Easterman