#because i recognize that i shouldnt be using other people's medicine

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

My coworker and I are both enjoying Adderall today but we're also dealing with starting a project and concentrating so hard that you can't stop, even though it's taking so much longer than you thought you just gotta keep concentrating and concentrating until your coworkers are worried because you've been scrubbing the rack that holds fry baskets for at least thirty minutes and refuse to stop even though it's really not an important task, you gotta finish. You have no choice in the matter.

[sickknotdoom]

also want to add that doctors being forced to do all of that murderous shit and being immediately apologized by everyone is such a limp move. Funfi literally DEAFED barry and MUTILATED miley, but we can't hate him/her/them??? Yes Doom afraid to leave hospital because Mood won't, but if you try to say that Doom is bad you would be shreddered by entire fandom (people's favorite character). HE STILL KILLS PEOPLE. NO, BEING FORCED DIDN'T ERASE THAT FACT.

In real life not all people are coward pricks, not every people would MURDER for saving their live or live of their loved ones.

Opinions:

1. Hospital is a LEGALIZED criminal facility, but instead of hiring someone who would carelessly doing that job Cuddles hires literally randoms. At this point only Funfi were (officially) studied medicine science.

2. Cuddles has enough power and recourses to hush up the matter with Charles (old cat from V1), he also provides other hospitals sabotaged equipment and he has SNIPERS IN HOSPITAL HELLO??? (in the V1 and V3 is a sign on the gate 'trespassers would be shot)

Kitty's said that V5 would going outside of the hospital and more about rebels so i hope to see it connecting in one big image lmao

(srry for longposting every slight criticism in this fd = hate = kill that person NOW)

ok you type EXACTLY like a specific somebody thats been hatefully obsessed with me all year (too much caps, constantly angry, english definitely a second language) .... but im posting this anyway. deliberately waited five months to answer this though because i didnt wanna give said person any satisfaction from getting a notif.

if you dont know someones pronouns just use they/them until stated otherwise. funfetti use she/he/they last time i checked (meaning you can pick any of those & stick with the one you chose) & i honestly forgot funfetti was even in the mutilation scene because thats how unimportant theyve been so far. i genuinely thought doom was the one who cut barrys ear off. but doom was still an active participant in that + many other mutilations & murders so we shouldnt really ship him with barry.

i actually personally resonate with dooms backstory. however, i can acknowledge that explanation does not equate to justification & nobody is obligated to forgive or even like doom or any of the other staff members, ESPECIALLY not the patients.

so yeah anon youre kinda based, but again i feel like i recognize you & that youre prolly just using this to lead into why you think barrunis the only good ship in the whole series so you can check out now if youre even still following this blog

[jeonfiles]

better left unsaid - jjk

genre: angst, rebounds

pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)

warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love

synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.

word count: 2.7k

music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you

note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read

Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.

You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,

Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.

Koo <3 [05:34 am]

baby pkck me up pleseee

im so wsated

Koo <3 [06.46am]

dont be mad at me jsut pick me up

i dont knw hewere the fuck i am

i love you

Koo <3 [07:31 am]

i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12

i need to talk to someone frsit

im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried

You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.

Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.

Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.

The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.

When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.

For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.

And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.

You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.

And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.

It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the  Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.

Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.

And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.

Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.

It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.

And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.

A distant memory, just as distant as him.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.

And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.

It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:

“How could you do this to us?”

As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.

So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.

There was a whole other reason that made you cry.

He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite,  however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.

He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.

He smelled like another girl.

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.

Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.

Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.

Maybe it was time to let him go. 

Maybe.

You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]

Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?

If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://

You [07:03 pm]

i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]

You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D

Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.

But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.

You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.

He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.

You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.

He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.

You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.

“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.

“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”

He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?” 

“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”

His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.

“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.

So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.

“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.

This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.

Or you did, but you didn’t want to.

You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.

“Yeah.”

You lied.

“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”

You shake your head no.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”

“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.

That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.

Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.

You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.

You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat. 

Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.

There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.

Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.

Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.

Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.

You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.

Actually, there’s a little detail you forget. 

You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.

“Dear Jungkook,

If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!

-L/N Y/N <33″

You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.

You [02:13 am]

coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?

sorry for making you wait btw :((

Joonie <3 [02:13 am]

dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?

You  [02:14 am]

i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo

lets start our new chapter. eh?

4 months later...

He had been good to you, great even.

You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.

Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.

At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.

You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing. 

You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.

You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.

Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Poor Little Anxious Crybaby (Pt.13)

-------------------------

Virgil seemed to be spending more and more time with Remus and Roman, not that anyone involved minded this change. But it wasnt the only thing that seemed to be changing.

This was the third week in a row in which Virgil seemed to be kept up for most of the night by dreams he couldnt understand. Sometimes he could make out the shapes of rabbits cats or mice, but rarely could he understand them.

"Maybe you just wanna be a mountain lion, I mean mountain lions could literally get away with ripping someone limb from limb, I'd wanna be a mountain lion," Remus said, running his fingers through Virgil's hair as Virgil lay across the couch.

"What I don't understand is why it would be waking you up, I mean, it's not like being a mountain lion is generally upsetting, right?" Roman said, pulling the hem of his sweater over his knees.

"Yeah. . . ." Virgil said, burying his face in Remus' stomach.

"Careful there bud, I gotta use that to digest stuff," Remus said, letting out a cackle as Virgil blew a raspberry against the skin.

"Well we dont need to focus on dreams now, anyone up for a game?" Roman said, shaking a controller.

"Ooohhh! I'll order pizza!" Remus said, bolting up off the couch. Virgil let out a whine at the loss of contact as his head landed on the couch pillows.

"Aaaawwweee, sorry Vivi, I'll come back in a little, but can you give me your order, Ro? You're usual?" Remus said, looking at both boys in turn.

"Cheese,,," Virgil mumbled.

"I'm not hungry," Roman said, bringing his legs closer to his chest. Remus seemed slightly upset by the response, but simply nodded and went to call the pizza place. Virgil moved closer to Roman, who draped an arm around him.

"Roro?. . ." Virgil said quietly.

"Hm?" Roman leaned his head on Virgil's.

"When we get back to school are you still gonna have to be friends with 'You-know-who' are you?" Virgil said, he hadnt thought about the kids at school for most of the summer, but it was nearly September, so the memory was slowly creeping back in.

Roman sat there for a few seconds, rubbing circle's into Virgil's back.

"I dont know Vivi. . . He's not exactly easy to get away from y'know?" Roman said sadly, Virgil buried his head in Roman's shoulder.

Virgil had known Inigo since they were kids, and they had never been friendly. But since becoming friends with Roman, Virgil had learned of even more reasons to despise the boy.

"I hope he and Brennan get together," Virgil muttered, casting a distinct glance at the sewing kit on the coffee table. Roman let out a soft chuckle, burying his head in Virgil's hair.

"That can be arranged," Remus said, sitting down next to the pair and draping himself across Virgil's back.

"Guuuyyyssss- you're crushing meeeeee," Virgil said, pouting.

"Not my fault you're so tiny," Remus said, resting his head in the crook of Virgil's neck.

"I'm only 4'8!" Virgil whined.

"Tinyyyyyy~" the twins chimed in unison.

Virgil had to admit that the feeling was nice, he was warm and happy, and for once in his life, he felt safe.

He and the twins spent a good portion of the day beating the crap out of fictional characters in a video game and stuffing their faces with pizza, Remus had taught Virgil how to make a volcano out of melted metal and an ant hill, much to Roman's distress.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow ok?" Virgil said as he stepped out the door to go home.

"Did you have fun kiddo?" Patton said as Virgil walked into the kitchen.

"Mhm," Virgil smiled as he rested his head on the kitchen counter.

"Dont forget to take your medication before dinner Virgil, I'm hoping the doctor will be right about it helping you sleep easier," Emile said, setting the bottle down next to Virgil.

"I wish they made this stuff in liquid form more often- how do you take all your stuff so easily?" Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at Emile.

"Its hard for me to, but usually if I take the water first and slip the medicine in after it's easier because it's already floating," Emile said, shrugging.

Virgil thought on this for a moment before nodding slightly. Virgil liked Emile a lot more than he'd first expected, of course sometimes he was a little different, but usually he and Virgil could just sit on the couch and talk about cartoons, and Virgil could even tell him about his nightmares without getting scared.

Of course there were some things he still didnt know about Emile, but if Patton or Emile didnt want to tell him things, he wasnt about to ask for information he shouldnt need.

Settling down for bed that night still felt bad, but Virgil didnt mention it, he didnt want to bother anyone.

Virgil awoke in a patch of soft grass, which upon closer inspection, seemed to be more of a dull teal color than the green it ought to have been.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Said a voice, Virgil looked up to see what looked to be a girl with white rabbit ears, wearing a waist coat and khaki shorts, a boy with a hat, a tux, and hair that varied from shades of brown and blonde on one side, and various other colors on the other, between the two was a girl with brown bunny ears, her outfit seemed to be an attempt at formality which only ended in the tattered remains of what could have once been a met gala dress.

"Who are you?-" Virgil said, sitting up and shaking his head slightly in confusion.

"Aaawww, you dont recognize us?" Said the brown bunny.

"Well of course he doesnt! When's the last time you saw him at the tea party! I mean look at his clothes! Hardly appropriate for such a special event." Said the man with the hat. Virgil looked down at his clothes, he was still in his pajamas.

"Come on- we have to get you dressed first, I cant imagine what would happen if we brought you to the king dressed like that!" Said the white rabbit, dragging Virgil off the ground and marching toward a small house on a hill.

It seemed like hours before the mission the three people seemed so set on completing was finished, and by the end of it Virgil found himself in a dusty purple dress with white sleeves, a black bow and buttons on the chest, white lace on the skirt hem, white stockings, and black boots. If he was being honest with himself, he'd never been happier to look at his reflection.

"Well come on then! The king is waiting for you!" Said the boy with the hate.

"Now hold on a second- I dont even know your names, how am I supposed to trust that you'll take me to the right place?" Virgil said.

The three figures in front of him exchanged glances.

"Hes right you know, I'd never trust someone without a name,"

"I made friends with a nameless person once, they stole my cat,"

"But if we give him our names outright then it's no fun!"

Virgil looked between the three of them in confusion, waiting for the conversation to end.

"Ok, we wont tell you our names, but you can guess them," said the boy with the hat.

The white rabbit stepped up first, she mimicked placing a crown on her head, and then mimicked a sword being pulled from something and swinging it around.

"Well- it cant be Arthur, you dont strike me as an Arthur- so is it. . . Gwenivere?" Virgil said, the girl shook her head but made a motion of begging him on.

"Gwendolyn?" Virgil said.

"You got it!" Gwendolyn said excitedly, clasping her hands together and bouncing from foot to foot. She stepped back and allowed the second rabbit to take her place.

This one held out two fingers first, dropped one, and began to imitate what seemed to be waves.

"Waverly?" Virgil said, the girl nodded and held up two fingers again, proceeding to drop them and hold up a full hand, pointing to calendar that had floated down from the ceiling.

"Waverly-Mae?" Virgil said, the girl nodded and spun on her heel to walk back next to Gwendolyn.

"And that leaves me for last I suppose," said the boy with the hat, making a sort of disappointed face to the girls as he walked up to Virgil. He mimicked both a face that Virgil would describe as angry, and one he would describe as having a few screws out of place.

"Mad?" Virgil said, the boy nodded and kept going, placing one finger on either side of his head and digging his foot into the ground.

"Maddox?" Virgil said, tilting his head. Maddox smiled and nodded.

"Well now that you know our names, you'll have to meet our king!" Gwendolyn said, grabbing Virgil by the arm and rushing off.

It took ages for them to reach what Virgil believed to be the palace. It was large and black with red and green accents along the sides, this left a sinking feeling in Virgil's chest.

"I present to you, his most gracious majesty, King Rhea!" Gwendolyn said, backing into a line with several guards dressed in red and white. Maddox and Waverly-Mae fell in line with the knights in black and green.

Virgil looked forward, in front of him and sitting on a throne was a man who shared much to many similarities with the twins to be comforting.

Though one eye was green and one eye was red, and rather than red or dark brown hair, his was black and white, but he still had the same smirk, the same demeanor Remus and Roman had when out on the town.

"So glad you could finally make it, your excellency," said Rhea, now turning his head to look at Virgil.

"I-" Rhea held his hand up, Virgil's mouth closed almost immediately.

"I know what you're going to say, and you are absolutely correct, you are not royalty, you are something much more important,"

Virgil woke up in a cold sweat, and it wasnt until he looked at himself in the mirror that he realized, he was still wearing the very same dress as before.

----------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@frawkeye

@meowthefluffy

@thefivecalls

@luna--28

@deathcanbegreat

@willowaudreykeyes

@sleepless-emo

@teamplutoforlife

@melodiread

@cemmy

@pricklyfish777

@frog-candy-bee

[kim-isnt-seaweed]

^^those photos are all taken by me. Use them ig you want but please credit me.

Hello people!

How was your week? I had a fairly good week, it was hectic and tiring but it was good until i caught a cold.

Monday: Monday since i didnt have to work i stayed home laminating my interactive material and when T came home from work we went to Emart. He bought me a really cute watch since i needed it for classes since i didnt want to keep checning my phone, he wanted to buy a smart watch for both of us (hahaha i sound like we can just buy those things whenever we want but no, we save up for those type of things) but i dont want one because i geniuenly dont have a need for one, anyway we bought stuff at emart and came home. I thought at the time i had avoided the cold i thought i caught on Sunday.

Tuesday: went to work, every tuesday staff reuinion at the center and then i went to my first class the 27 m/o baby, he is really cute and you can notice he is somewhat understanding what i am teaching him but he cant speak yet so its tough to tell for sure. The second class was new kid i was added and he is the type of kids that ..are difficult, the mother had forgotten the class was on tuesdays at 6:30 and my boss forgot to call her to confirm (usually teachers do that but she said since im a forgeiner she would do it) besides they gave me the families old address thankfully the new house was a street away. The boy was not having it, he did not want to have class and he was just doing whatever the fuck he wanted, most of my students are young so its normal for them to get distracted but you can tell the difference when they get natrually distracted because they include me in their distraction for examole the baby boy keeps trying to gwt mw to play ball with him, or anotherone that just telling me about pokemon but this boy did not give a fuck about me or the class he was just difficult but i was like whatever i will go through if the class and maybe its just because he's tired, so who knows but when i was going his mom gave him an orange and he just threw it on the floor and smeared it with his foot as if it was funny and his mom said nothing so ..he still seems a bit difficult.

Wednesday: t was at home for the morning but had to go to work that night so i decided to make lunch for both of us: carne asada, refired beans a co-worker who grew up in Guatemala gave me and cilantro rice i made with the left over cilantro the Pho place gave me. I went to work at 4, and when i got to my students house i noticed he had a cold and i immediately was like "uh-oh" you know how kids are (he is 3) they dont cover their nose, whipe their nose with their hands and then touch you and your stuff. After class i came home and later that night my throat started feeling weird.

Side note: my mom would always make soup and salad everyday for lunch and dinner (same thing for both meals as is common in Colombia) and without fail they had cilantro ALWAYS! So i grew up eating cilantro, but it wasnt until i moved to Korea and the first time eating mexican food with T he was like "oh no the taste of cilantro is too strong i cant eat this" and i was like "Cilantro has a taste????" Like i grew up eating that in soups and stuff, never on its own so i never recognized the taste, let alone believe it was strong, i just thought it was a must for food like salt or whattever, the only other thing i new of cilantro was that it makes you sleepy, so if there was too much on our food it was like "mom is trying to make us chill" idk if its true or its just placeboo at this point since i grew up hearing it thus believing it. So yeah, i didnt know cilantro had a taste of its own until i moved to Korea, thankfully T has learned to like it but he judges me when i add a bit too much.

Thursday: my throat was even more irritated that morning but i felt fine in general, t had the day off so i made lunch again: arroz con pollo. I went to work, T took me to my classes on his new scooter motorcycle and while he waited he went shopping. My second student on thrusdays is a bitbhard because he is all over the place distracted and skipping all the steps but its okay because at least he looks excited for the class. Then i had my last class and went out to eat dinmer with T, by this time my throat was in so much pain it hurt to talk but the rest of me felt fine, we went to Kondae to eat Makchang (i think its the large intestine of the pork) and then i bought a leather jacket more like i bought a fake leather jacket because T has been dying to see me in a leather jacket (boy shoulda seen me at 16) idk why so now he can finally stop talking about it.

Friday: my throat felt better so i thought i had avoided getting a cold, i went to the center to pick up my class materials for next week and for the new student on fridays my boss had only told me about the night before. I went back home and since T again had the day free we went to the bank to open a family account, then he took me to my class, i was nervous because i had been told the kids mom is scary but when i arrived there (a bit late since i had forgotten something and had to go back to the center) they were so nice, their appartment is amazing, its huge and has a beautiful view people say celebreties live in those buildings too which explains the amount of security in the complex which is odd for most korean apartments. The mom was so nice, the dad too and their little boy is wonderful too so idk what they wete talking about tbh. When class finished we came back home, took all my pants (all except one i recently bought) a skirt and a dress to the seamstress because they were too big on me now and the lady was like "why are they so big??" "Its hard for you to find clothes the fit well, right? (it is) since you have a butt (i dont i just store most of my fat in my thighs and hips but not the butt) but your waist is so small" then when she got to the dress she seemed troubled because it was more work than what it seemedm we paid 90 bucks which is apparently expensive? Idk how since she has to do a lot of work on my clothes, 7 items and 2 items for T. Then we came home and i started to feel sick again, when bed time came i was completely sick.

Today: sleeping was terrible, i kept choking in my sleep because i have a stuffy nose and a very swollen throat. T woke up at all hours trying to help me feel better, giving me wster and medicine, i felt so bad since he had to wake up early but there he was taking care of me at like 4 am. When he woke up for work all i remember is him telling our cat "Bean, mom is sick be nice to her today and take care of here" aside from that being cute on its own i actually think she listend to him, although bean is very sweet she has moments when she likes to bully me, trip me ovet, bite my legs or scratch my hands (only me she never does that to T even if he was the one annoying her she takes it out on me) but today she has been so sweet and calm, no yelling or demanding snacks, no bullying just love.

At one my MIL took me to the doctors, they somehow always mention the fact i got surgery on my nose for allergy reasons and say something i cant fully understand and no one can translate for me but i am starting to feel the surgery was a waist of money, my allergies are back (not as bad as before but their back) and everytime i get a cold it fucks me up so hard. Then when comming home my MIL bought me so much pastries and bread because i didnt want lunch or let her pay for my medicine.

Sometimes i look at T and feel so lucky i have a husband that is so sweet, selfless and careing but then i see his parents and im like yep that makes sense. His parents have always been so sweet and understanding, the accepted me for me get go and have always treated me like a daughter, sometimes i tease T telling him his dad loves me more than than him haha his parents helped pay for my surgery back when we had only been dating for a year (my parents couldnt afford it i mean back at home they could but Korean money is much more expensive than Colombian money) and now everytime i mention trying to pay them back they wont have it.

I also noticed i have three big bruises on my legs i have no idea where they came from. Its annoying because everytime i hurt myself and say "oh this is gonna leave a bruise" there is no bruise to be found, but then these bruises appear and its like for you to be so big and persistent shouldnt i remember what your from???

Tomorrow: T and i finally both have the same free day, but this fucking cold will probably ruin it all so who knows.

Anyways that was my week, i hope you all had a good week too!

[rolandfontana]

Courthouse ‘Warrior’ or Diplomat? The Public Defender’s Challenge

Give The New York Times credit.   When it comes to exposing our indigent defense crisis, the paper keeps at it.

Last month, reporters Richard Oppell, Jr. and Jugal Patel produced a story that introduced readers to a public defender in Louisiana with a list of pending cases long enough to require five years’ work, and to bewildered indigent clients in Rhode Island who received one to five minutes of defender counseling at their first court appearance.

The Oppell and Patel survey was given prominent placement.  The Times digital edition deployed interactive features.  Photographs of 113 of one defender’s 194 clients were published to give human faces to the numbers.  It was a serious piece.

Still, while I don’t enjoy saying this, I’ve been doing public defender work for 45 years, and I have read variations of this story 200 times.  The caseload count is worse now in many places than it was in the mid-1970s when I first got involved.

I’m not sure this story—and the legion of stories like it— will make a difference on their own.

The impact of straightforward case counts is unpredictable.  Back in my days as a state public defender in Massachusetts,  I was attacked by a legislator outraged that our state’s too-high (but in the middle-of-the-pack nationally) caseloads were luxuriously low, compared with the desperate situations described in Bob Spangenberg’s pioneering data studies, the precursors of the line of inquiry The Times is now pursuing.

And while we certainly need better time-per-case adequacy standards, the problem isn’t convincing an audience that defenders want more time. People know that by now.

The challenge is communicating what it is that defenders would do with the time.

Some decision-makers have a jaundiced view of public defenders. One legislator told a colleague who was complaining that defenders were paid less than sanitation worker that “the trash men take the garbage off the streets; you guys just put the garbage back out there.”

The defender community’s own infatuation with Herbert Packer’s Battle Model of a criminal process seen as a stylized war—a zero sum conflict between the Crime Control Warrior Cop and the Due Process Warrior Defender—contributes to this situation.

Often, this Battle Model vision is wheeled out as a convenient morale-building shortcut. But it does contain a germ of truth.

In every courthouse where criminal cases are heard, there are damaged or apathetic individuals who have been granted power over the lives of impoverished clients, who enjoy their roles, and who abuse their authority at leisure from positions of complete security.

I’ve represented almost 100 murderers over the years, but only one of them makes his way onto my private roster of The Dozen Worst People.  The remaining eleven places are held by a variety of judges, prosecutors, cops, and other lawyers: racists, sadists, bullies, and liars among them.

It’s true that if you’re not ready to go to war with these people you shouldn’t take a defender job.

But for defenders, as for actual military war-fighters, charge-the-machine-gun-nest courage is an ultimate requirement, more than an immediate one. Having it is necessary, but not sufficient.

It turns out that living humbly in a good cause, not dying gloriously for one, is the actual challenge.

The indispensable personal quality for a defender is resiliency.

That means the capacity to bounce back, the ability to return tomorrow and the next day and summon empathy, to doggedly prepare for battles that will probably never occur, and-—at the risk of sounding insufficiently warlike—to sustain and draw on a reservoir of  patience and kindness toward clients, their families, and their victims.

Thinking about resiliency is important because resiliency is not only a quality in individuals; it is also a crucial property of safe systems.

For better or worse, the criminal courthouse really is a system.  It is not a mechanical system like a clock.  It is not a chaotic eco-system like a swamp.

But it is a complex socio-technical system, like a hospital or an airport.

To begin with, thinking about criminal justice as a system can remind us that this system has an intake valve.  There are simply too many cases. The prosecutors, (according to one quoted by The Times) feel just as overworked as the defenders.

So, stop filing the cases.

As Alexandra Natapoff demonstrates in her brilliant new book Punishment Without Crime, many of them don’t matter, and pursuing them inflicts wide, radiating circles of collateral harm.

Besides, we can learn a lot about the safety of systems under pressure from aviation, medicine, and other fields.

Some systems under pressure break catastrophically:  they are “brittle.”   (Think of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor.)

But others are resilient. They adapt and adjust. They innovate in the face of surprises and anomalies.   The recognition of the importance of resiliency illuminates how the new, data-driven approaches to defending can help convey the indispensable value of defenders’ contributions.

Brady wrongful conviction cases fuel the Villain Prosecutor v. Warrior Defender narrative.  But from a system perspective, they raise the question whether an adequately funded defender might have caught the mistake.

Apart from evidence the prosecutors have and knowingly conceal is evidence they didn’t have (and couldn’t easily get) and that the defenders don’t have the time to uncover and provide. There is still other evidence the prosecutors had, but didn’t recognize as exculpatory because the starved defense couldn’t provide the context.

Systems-oriented “sentinel event reviews” of these wrongful convictions could help us understand why particular prosecutors in particular cases zigged when they were supposed to zag.  It would also show us why the defenders in those cases were unable to provide the resiliency that would have avoided tragedy:  how an overwhelming caseload and the absence of investigative capacity influenced the outcome.

A pair of Rand Corporation studies led by James Anderson and Paul Heaton has compiled and interrogated the data about these issues.

The earlier of the two studies, subsequently published in the Yale Law Journal, shows the influence of adequately funded defense in Philadelphia murder cases.

The salaried staff attorney defenders, who handled murder cases in two lawyer teams with access to in-house investigators and forensic science expertise, produced superior outcomes compared with private attorneys, whose fees were capped and who had to scrounge for investigative and forensic expert resources.

The second study assessed defender performance at the other end of the case-seriousness spectrum by examining a “natural experiment” provided by comparing the “holistic” defense approach of the Bronx Defenders with the traditional approach of the New York Legal Aid Society in the high-volume retail processing of criminal cases.

See also: Tom Reed, “Can Public Defenders Be Reformers?”

I won’t attempt to untangle at this point the complex questions of why the outcomes are different. I just want to point out that the style of defending adopted did clearly produce differences, and that the differences were on metrics—e.g., reductions in incarceration and expense, without rises in the re-offense and failure-to-appear rates—that everyone would accept as system goals.

These studies indicate that, given the time to perform it, the defense function not only protects the clients the defenders “champion.”

It bolsters the overall system’s resiliency.

By mobilizing the defenders’ capacity to “stop the line” and fill the information gaps about the client or the case when the police have followed the wrong trail or our shiny new Risk Assessment algorithm has failed to account for an individual feature, the system saved money, protected the community, and preserved just outcomes.

Of course, “stopping the line” on a Friday afternoon when the judge is trying to clear his docket requires a “warrior” equipped to advocate for some local sacrifice (“No golf!!!??”)  in order to reach the larger systems goals of more justice and lower cost.

But those local sacrifices are what a resilient system delivers.

Understanding American criminal justice requires understanding both the searing individual narratives of persons and communities entangled with that system and the statistical vision derived from a careful consideration of the data.  The vision and the narrative are not only complementary, they are mutually dependent.  One is meaningless-—even misleading—without the other.

The Times coverage and the data-based efforts it describes should help us see that system resiliency—and, ultimately, safety—is “emergent.”   It grows out of the individual narratives that only adequately funded defenders can fully develop, and what it grows into is more than the sum of a pile of anecdotes and sob stories.

Resiliency might be required in different ways and at different times by different failures and challenges.

The current realities of our criminal justice world set ostensibly independent silos—cops, courts, defenders, corrections—fighting with each other over scarce resources.

But it would be good to remember that these elements constitute interdependent parts of a larger whole that can, if its parts are adequately funded, provide greater safety for everyone.

James M. Doyle is a Boston defense lawyer and author, and a frequent contributor to The Crime Report. He welcomes readers’ comments.

Courthouse ‘Warrior’ or Diplomat? The Public Defender’s Challenge syndicated from https://immigrationattorneyto.wordpress.com/