#if anyone wants to pay me a shitload of money so i never have to rely on my family or see them ever again i'd be hella grateful

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: Two years. You never drive far anymore, you don’t linger outside of your new city limits. Because how can you drive into the desolate life you once had? Then again, Hawkins and its story book tragedies have a way of bringing you back for more. A mangled marriage, an abandoned two story, and a loved one in turmoil, it finally brings you back home.

Parings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, shitloads of angst, mentions of major health trauma (it’s heart related, so be warned before reading, as I don’t want to trigger anyone), that angsty angst, but with a happy ending, & obvious smut/nsfw content that will appear later in the story!

A/N: Sneak peek/teaser into my new series, and the first one I’m publishing for this fandom — That House In Indiana (inspired by Ethel Cain’s ‘A House In Nebraska’. Lyrics below that I obviously don’t own) There will be a happy ending, so don’t worry! I’ve also drawn off myself for the situation with Wayne, based off what happened to my own dad. It’s pretty rough, but Wayne will be okay — I promise! He has a health crisis in this that might trigger some people, so please DON’T read if you know it’ll upset you! And let me know what y’all think if you do read, please and thank you? ❤️💘❤️💘

February 1st, 1990

~*~

Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long

When the aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song

You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl

We had nothing except each other, you were my whole world

Then the day came and you were up and gone

And I still call home that house in Nebraska

Where we found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor

Where the world was empty, save you and I

Where you came and I laughed, and you left and I cried

Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours

~*~

Shaking hands with chipped polish of a once fresh manicure, now worried down from alternating chewed grinds between chattering teeth and trembling lips, stained with overflowing salt — switch to a tight grip around a faded leather steering wheel, the cracking leather mingling with that of rustling denim. Scattered neon pink chips spray nail beds, making you twitch with the need to placate that urgency in your guts that pummels the muscles, seizing those in your eyes to force you to glance at where the gold band used to sit, used to distract you so perfectly. You were sure that you’d gotten over that. Funny what delusions the mind can bank on to get you through destruction and pain. You sniffle upon a jagged exhale, breath coming out choppy and overused.

Your body feels stuck to the seats, melted into a frozen statue. You really don’t want to be you, to think. Hell, your thoughts border on everything they shouldn’t, all the what-ifs, the blames, past tragedies, and your wishes that if this was the end result — maybe it would’ve been better if you died that night in the Spring of 1986. Long drives that aren’t in line with the simplicity of five minutes, you’d avoided for the last two years. Four hours from your one bedroom townhouse in Illinois to a hotel room in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana — you’re a prisoner to your psyche.

You’ll see your crumbling dream in the form of white plaster, broken wood planks, and rotten rose bushes, frosted across shattered glass windows — ones you had stewed over for days on what color would look the best for curb appeal, and a large for sale sign in the front yard that was once littered with the cars of friends and loved ones. That very same home, the one you had shaped with your partner, that curly haired, doe eyed boy that you first met when he gave you money to pay for the groceries you couldn’t quite afford when you were fifteen, unbeknownst to you that it was his last five dollars, but he gave it to you because he knew you needed it more. He’d be fine as long as you were. You don’t have to try to embrace every whisper his hands had gifted your skin with. Your walls are gone, body ripped open and bare for the entire town you’d left behind two years ago.

The scenery is starting to fill in, barren trees near bloom. Maybe an early Spring, you can’t be sure? Your tires click against wet asphalt when you turn, splashing water on the chrome body of your car as you head into the embankment of treetops that glow, entwined into an arch that blankets the road in charcoal shadows. You manage to raise your hand to hit your windshield wipers, crystal clearing in a thick smear. Your sclera, however, floods over, lashes sticking to raw under eyes, puffy and exerted. You swallow harshly around a raw and wet throat, foot accelerating the gas pedal. You have to get there.

You haven’t slept since you heard his voice, your ears floating into a familiar peak, a swell of overwhelming longing stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs, trapping your diaphragm beneath whimpers not cried. You knew right away that something wasn’t okay. He called for the first time in years, he was in the place of his uncle, your confusion palpable as you hadn’t expected the youth for the familiarity of your weekly calls with his own family. You could hear his deep voice, raspy and shrouded in painful storms unmatched. Your body was like a dead weight, fingers struggling to hold onto the receiver, tone a mere whisper, one that felt like broken glass being dragged out through your windpipes.

“What’s wrong, Eds?”

“He… I, Y/N—“ Like a plea that was too silent to fully find its vessel, his voice became caked with an ocean of tears, thick like the swamps of isolating despair.

You’d almost resorted to begging, but you had known, even then, Eddie always took his own path to processing grief. Resisting an instinctual soothe towards him was like rejecting the air that earth offered you.

Your fingers prickled in an uncomfortable heat, numb and dulled, tongue heavy and choking you. The same as that night you awaited to hear whatever horror Hawkins had dropped into your lives once more.

“It’s Wayne.” There was an eerie quietness as Eddie had caught up with himself and moved forward enough to inform you. You couldn’t have stopped the gasping cry that left your mouth if you’d taped it shut.

He’d wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and take you into his arms, needing to remember what the heartbeat of another human felt like, more specifically — his human. But you weren’t, you hadn’t been, and he wasn’t calling you to tell you that. You loved his uncle like a father. Having to break this news, to lay a layer of pavement over your spirit and let it dry, driving over it to forget, Eddie guiding your heart into another turmoil — it made him want to attempt to dislocate his own jaw.

“What about Wayne? Please tell me what’s going on?” You lost every piece you’d mangled together, helpless to their violent disappearance.

Eddie had trembled as he sighed, shaky and worn. “He had a heart attack a few hours ago.”

Your organ had begun to lose traction, beating sporadically that you were sure some of your bones had been reduced to ash beneath the forceful erratic rhythm. Leaving behind everything but your shoes, coat, keys, and purse, you were already at your front door, phone cord stretching with you. “I’m coming home. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Yeah. Kay. I’ll be here.” Eddie sounded lost, that light he’d accumulated in his lifetime, part of it was dimming. He couldn’t lose the one person that had been with him his whole life. You were already gone. This would devour him whole.

You sit up straight in your seat, the action causing your back to crack. You take a few deep breaths, engrossed in the glossy branches in your sky view, thunder roaring in the distance, your vehicle approaching the clearing and ready to hit that final road that will take you home.

~*~

[monkayemporor]

“I didn’t want this!”

Synopsis: fem!Lorenzo (aka possum) and her parent 😱😱😱

Cw: Talks of plastic surgery + reader doesn’t like Lorenzo (at first)

Featuring: Fem!Lorenzo and Gn!Reader

Wc: 660

NOTES: I SWEAR IM WORKING ON EVERYTHING ELSE (lie)

“I’m gonna get plastic surgery.”

“Excuse me?”

Looking up from your phone, you were faced with Donna Lorenzo. And her usual shit-eating grin. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve indulged her, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Considering how she wasn’t even supposed to be here.

A few weeks ago, your friend Snuffy had dropped off some kid at your doorstep, explaining how she wanted you to take care of her. Of course, you had vehemently refused. And could anyone blame you? This girl looked like…well something. A freak would be the proper term. 

Rotten teeth, terrible hygiene, and her overall eccentric personality. You were so sure that you wouldn’t be able to deal with her. And what was Snuffy’s excuse? That her job as a pro would keep her too busy. 

“Can’t you just…I don’t know…buy her an apartment or something? You have a shitload of money!”, you had pleaded, but Snuffy had explained she didn’t want to leave Lorenzo alone. 

Sure, you could’ve refused. And if it had been anyone else, you would’ve. But this was Snuffy, your dearest friend. So, against your better judgment, you took Donna Lorenzo in. 

Living with her though, was certainly an…experience. From following you around your place, messing with your stuff, barking like a dog, and mooning over the weirdest boys on your computer. 

“Isn’t he just the best?”, she asked, an image of some gothic-looking boy open on the screen. 

Sipping on your coffee, your nose wrinkled, “Ew. No. Just no.”

Just what was wrong with her?

And now you were here, with Lorenzo proclaiming that she was going to get plastic surgery. 

“So, you want bigger boobs? I thought those were like bad for football or something.”, you said, clearly confused. Lorenzo shook her head and sat next to you, a bit too close for comfort though. 

“Nah, I just wanna get rid of something.”

Vague. You momentarily wondered if you should push for more info. But why bother? She was old enough to get one and it wasn’t like you were the one paying for it.

But…

What would Snuffy say? She would probably want you to ask. Sighing, you placed your phone on the table and looked Lorenzo in the eye.

“Just what exactly do you want to get rid of?”

Silence suddenly filled the space and you noticed the defender avoiding your gaze. Odd.

“Well…”, you trail off, trying to find the right words to say as the teen girl perks up. “You’re not that bad looking. So I don’t see why you need to get plastic surgery.”

Lame. That was the best you could do? Screw it. You never wanted kids in the first place.

Instead of Lorenzo mocking you though, she simply laughed, showing off the golden grills you very much hated. “I’m not sayin' that it was terrible, but it was!”

In defeat, you slumped on the couch. Screw Snuffy. But just as you were about to leave the room, Lorenzo suddenly spoke up.

“Still…thanks…”

Well, now this was awkward. What were you supposed to say? No problem? Nahhh. 

“You’re cute looking—like a possum!”, you suddenly blurted out. Why were you doing this?! Just why?! The younger girl tilted her head, “Possum? Ya, mean those ugly rat things?”

“They are not ugly!”

“Are too. And that means you're calling me ugly!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!”

Arguing with Donna Lorenzo turned out to be quite tiring. And at the end, you were laying on the couch, side-eyeing her, “Look. Just, don’t do it. You’re perfectly fine. And you may be kinda gross, you’re not that gross to need plastic surgery.”

It was quiet for a couple of minutes, you staring up at Lorenzo as she stared right back. Her shit-eating grin was visible, “Dah, fine~”

“Oh.” You weren’t expecting her to listen. Now what? Do you just leave? Or…

“Am I still a possum though?”, Lorenzo asked.

“Definitely yes.”

“You’re weird.”

“Look who’s talking.”

[msfbgraves]

Anti capitalist? Oh God don't tell me you're a socialist :(

I'm a European, living in what we call a 'social democracy'. I have no idea what many Americans mean by socialism, but if you feel that socialism is a form of a stalinist dictatorship, with no free speech, concentration camps for dissenters, and no wealth for anyone but the corrupt elite, I share your concern. I've lived in East Berlin as it was coming out of all that. No fun, or so they kept telling me.

Unchecked capitalism, with no concern but the growth of business, however many lives it may cost is, however, another horror of mine. Corporations should never have more rights than people. Laying people off because of less than projected growth, and therefore fewer dividends for shareholders is... as anti human.

I believe in both the freedom to innovate and compete, because these are human desires, and a cap on growth so we can ensure human rights. It has long been proven that after less than 100 K dollars in income a year (figure adjusted for current inflation, it used to be 70K) human happiness stalls. Really, it doesn't matter if you exceed that by 500 dollars, 5 million or 5 billion, it doesn't have any noticable affect on human happiness. So I think that the government should redistribute any excess of that into public services: healthcare, national parks, environmental measures such as hurricane proofing and clean energy, research both applied and fundamental, ubi, social services, arts grants, public transport, museums, monuments. But also defence - I'm not naieve. Diplomacy. A fair democracy!Sports. Solidarity, ok, humans helping humans.

And yes, that may drive out people who are greedier than that, but I feel that they need therapy. Wouldn't it be nice if that were widely accessible!

It's fine to recognise clean businesses for their contribution to the collective. If you pay shitloads of money back into the collective, fine, have your parade! Competition and a longing for status is a human drive which is silly to want to suppress. I also don't think human beings belong to the state. So have a nice big electric car and a luxury spa day. Express your individuality. Those things are nice, and it makes people unhappy to not live them.

But profit for profit's sake destroys the quality of life for billions, makes the planet near uninhabitable for human life, all for the sake of like 30 psychopaths with less empathy than a scorpion. We make so much more money than any individual could need to celebrate a sense of personal achievement and status. Let's use those resources to clean the oceans up, heal the sick, clean the air, make the world accessible and take a nice vacation by train. Trains are really nice. Vacations too.

[beastofwant]

&what makes me feel perhaps the most deranged about this situation is that I repeatedly inform people "I don't know if I will be able to afford to get out of here" and they're like ohhh it'll work out uwu just hope!!!!

and I have a list of issues w/ that

after 24 solid years of "just hold on!" I am tired of living just for the potential of things getting better while my reality never changes despite my greater efforts to make things at all okay for myself

In order to move, I have to pay for first and last month's rent, pay the deposit, pay for moving supplies, and pay for a van. That's thousands of dollars, easy. how am I supposed to save up thousands of dollars when I'm only given $200/month to survive on? Most of that goes to rent and bills. I can't work to make extra money even if I wanted to, because then my rent would go up and my disability would go down.

I do not know if I can put up with this for a whole year when it's only been 3-4 months and already I can barely keep shit together

I would "just move in with a friend" so I have less financial struggles, except if I don't have my own space to myself my mental health gets even worse and it's not exactly fantastic right now. also I have a shitload of baggage related to "hey we're good friends we should live together!!!" & that going horribly horribly wrong for me so even if I do trust and love someone very much I cannot put myself into that situation again.

my proposed situation of Fixing It is basically just........ have people get their shit together so I have the government workers (and SSI income) I need, and then get my case manager to help me fight to break my lease & apply for emergency funding to move in elsewhere. which is literally feasible but it's not like anyone is going to help me lmao

[purplesurveys]

1618

Do you often find yourself eating just because you're bored? Hmm, not really. I usually feed myself only once the feeling of hunger starts to become too uncomfortable. As for being bored...I have a small stomach as it is (even when hungry), so eating when I’m not even craving anything would typically make me waste food, which I never want to end up doing.

Have you ever peed with the bathroom door open? Only when nobody is home, or when I’m sure no one’s gonna walk past at that moment.

Have you ever heard of the Japanese Chin dog breed before this survey? Sure, but only because I’ve seen this survey go around every now and then.

Have you or anyone you know been to rehab? No. Do we even have reputable rehab centers here? That’s more of a question to myself, by the way... because I don’t think we have any. Filipino culture tends to just shame whoever’s struggling and never actually comes up with the means to help.

Do you wish your family was bigger or smaller? I don’t have an opinion; I don’t see why family size should be something I should be actively caring about.

Are you a sex addict? No.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend taken from you? Nope.

If so, what would you like to do to the person who took them from you? I can’t relate.

Have you ever been cheated on? If so, have you forgiven them? I haven’t been cheated on, at least I don’t think I’ve been.

Quick! Tell me the name of your favorite movie. Two for the Road.

Are you a teen mom? Nope.

Say you had a baby with the last person you touched, what's the last name? I’m not sharing surnames of anyone from my circle. Besides, I don’t even remember who I last got into physical contact with hahaha.

Do you wear make up? Never unless I’m going to a work event or if I’ve got big plans with my friends. I like how I look with makeup but it’s just too much work.

Do you wear water bras? Idek what that is?

If you aren't a girl, have you ever stuffed your pants? I’m a girl.

Have you ever sent an anon hate message, be honest now. NEVER. What is the fucking point. Don’t be an ass.

Biggest fear, pick ONE. Getting caught in a fire.

The only place your singing sounds good is in the shower. True or false? No I suck there too. Would you let someone give you a golden shower for a million dollars? When it comes down to it? I probably would; 50 million pesos is a shitload of money that can last me 10 lifetimes. I can also easily spend half of it washing myself up LMAO so whatever. But I also know that this is most definitely one of those easier-said-than-done scenarios, so I don’t know what I’d actually decide.

If not, how much money would they have to pay you? I already took up the hypothetical offer, so.

Have you ever swung on a tire swing? I don’t think I have actually.

Have you ever swung on a swing so high, you feared your life? Not me, but my aunts who used to watch me.

Best quality in a guy, pick one. Funny and independent. Describe your perfect first date. If we can go to a museum where we can stroll and appreciate on our own and they don’t chat me up the entire time, that would be great. Then dinner somewhere fancyish but not too snobby; and some sort of fun activity afterwards like darts or bowling or going to a stand-up show.

Is this the Krusty Krab? God I’m glad this survey is ending.

First thing that comes to your mind when I say Giggity The dude from Family Guy.

What's the grossest thing that dogs do? My dogs have done all sorts of weird things that nothing really fazes me now.

[gtzgoblin]

So I'm trying to lose weight.

I've been trying for some time, and I'm aware this is a loaded subject, but I am (and have been for a while) technically obese, unfit and I'm worried about my blood pressure which is not good as a diabetic! I've also not liked looking at myself for a long while, and that sucks. As well as being concerned that the window for having another baby is closing and if I were to want to I'd need to be in much better physical shape.

That all being considered it's important but I have a really, really bad relationship with exercise (due to awful hypos) and with food (because I was told no to a lot when I was first diagnosed).

So I'm working on a triple front to improve my motivation to exercise (the weight loss is helping with that) because I need to get fitter too, to improve my relationship with food (if I stop myself eating something often I will immediately want to binge it) and to stop my hypos.

The metformin has helped a lot with being able to reduce my insulin, and my hypos, so I've been able to cut back on sugar in a healthy way, and I've joined weightwatchers because it's not too restrictive, but I do have more awareness of what I'm eating. I'm trying my best not to stop myself from eating anything, just to do it more sensibly; if I'm starving, I'm having a fruit or veg snack and I'm having less sweet stuff hanging around, that kinda thing.

I don't enjoy exercise (and I'm finding it hard to get the time!) So I'm trying to walk more and use the time when I get home early to do small things. Because I'm having less hypos and less nights with constant alarms I'm a lot less tired, but mostly I'm trying not to beat myself up for only doing it twice a week - because twice a week is better than nothing.

I'm finding here that my biggest enemy hasn't been the diabetes, or the lack of time, or the lack of energy or whatever else but mostly how I perceive things. Because I don't have much time, or much energy, but if I think about it like that it's literally pointless and nothing happens.

So I'm thinking good things: hey, my hypo rate is down massively - that's an achievement you've been trying to gain for 3 years, good job. So, you've only lost 0.2kg this week, still a loss. Yeah you're tired, but you'll feel better tired if you spend 20mins on the cross trainer and that's better than nothing.

The food thing has been harder to come to terms with and harder to break. I think I was diagnosed back just before people had a lot of control and was put on a twice daily regime which didn't really give much scope for variation. As far as I'm aware my parents were never taught to bolus or carb count or anything like that. I've picked it up myself over the years and I'm not sure how I've managed so well (other than I didn't well at all for some time!) but it all digs right into your psyche and I guess I really don't like the idea of not being able to eat what I want, hence why I'm now so big (that and having a baby and being exhausted). So this has been a process, and a struggle, and really quite eye opening as to the psychological damage diabetes can do to someone because as much as I know it can, I've not really thought myself to have any issues from it, and turns out I've opened the lid on Pandora's box and there's shitloads.

But also, on top of all of that, I've literally never hated how I look like I do right now and that sucks. We're so conditioned in everything to look a certain way and that way changes so often it'd be impossible for someone with 5 inches on me and -30kg to keep up never mind myself. It's unrealistic and it's damaging and honestly, to anyone out there struggling with how they look that struggle is real and valid but honestly, don't pay attention to the media. They want you to feel that way for control and for money, and it isn't worth it for something that is largely airbrushed and unachievable to begin with. Do what you're doing for you, and your health, not for anyone else. Because the world is full of enough barbed wire without tearing into yourself too.

This is a work in progress, but you know what? So am I. And I'm trying to accept that all I can do is keep trying, and to do my best, and to try and love who I am at every stage.

It's bloody difficult though.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #061

What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Good tattoos and health-conscious but still effective hair dyeing. Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Never one that took itself seriously, just one that was a Halloween attraction. I wasn't scared at all, knowing it was just fake stuff. It was fun, though. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? Absolutely not, hell no. Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. Does anyone know every little detail about you? No.

Has anyone told you a secret lately that you aren’t allowed to tell anyone? No. Where were you when you got your first period? I'd just gotten home from school. Can you change a car tire? No. Are you more attracted to men or women? Men, I think. Do you continue fighting in an argument even though you’re wrong? No, that's so childish. Accept you're wrong and grow. Where was the last house you went besides your house? My sister's place. Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? Never played it, don't want to. I bruise easily and I know that shit hurts. Right now, are you too hot, too cold or just right? I'm hot. I FUCKING FINALLY got out of the black hole quicksand that is my bed and am back in the spare room, now I just have to get used to the temperature change. My body is so fucking sensitive to that shit, like there is maybe a one degree difference and I'm sweating. Do you ever use a laptop in bed? That was the story of my life for literal YEARS on end and like I just mentioned, I'm getting back out of it. It's why my legs are fucking useless. Please don't spend your leisure time in the same place that you sleep, it's not healthy and I was no exception. Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? No, and not entirely, but I know enough. I know there was a lot of things; money and how to use it was one, and I know there were infidelity claims on both ends. They've been divorced a long time now, and they should be. Have you ever been evicted? Why? Yes, because we couldn't keep up with rent. Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? No. What was the last thing you voted for? Uhhhh I want to say it was a YouTube poll. What's the longest you've ever stayed awake? Why did you do it? Around three days, because I was manic. Have you ever received a parking fine? No. Parking fees are a pretty foreign concept 'round here. Are you in any group chats? Who's in them? Only for me, Tez, and Mazzy. Do you have a lisp? No. Do you have an Instagram account? Do you use it often? I have a couple and scan through my feed once or twice a day, but I rarely post anything myself. Have you ever broken up with someone for someone else? *Part* of the reason I broke up with Girt after trying to date for the first time was because I'd realized I was more into Sara. It is so weird talking about how we were the first time with how differently I feel about him now, and he hasn't changed, at all. How many windows are open on your computer? One window, but a shitload of tabs, mostly YouTube. Have you ever taken a shower with anyone before? Yeah, just as a kid tho. What’s your most memorable story from a power outage? My mom got (indirectly?) struck by lightning while quickly washing out a soda can; it was just a mild shock thank god and it became a joke that she's waiting for her powers to strike lmao. Is torture ever acceptable? No. That's how you lose your humanity, by hurting others that severely. Would you ever date someone who had an STD, if they were honest and safe? I think it would depend on *what* STD. Like, some are only transferable through flare-ups or whatever, and I don't think an STD equates to a no as far as being a partner goes. I'd sure as hell prefer my partner to have no issues in that field, but I'm not going to automatically say no if they're honest and safe about it, like you said. Have you ever kissed under mistletoe? I actually don't think I have, though I've always wanted to just for the novelty of it. Are you still with the person you fell hardest for? If not, do you still care for each other? No. I will absolutely always care for him, but I don't think he cares for me. Not that he's in the wrong there. Think of the person you fell hardest for. How many people has he/she been in love with, besides you? I don't know if Jason was ever actually in love with Rachel, his first girlfriend, but knowing how he reacted to her leaving, I think so. I have no idea if he's been in love since we split. Find 5 people on your Facebook friends list, whose name begins with K. Who are these people, and how did you meet them? 1.) Kelly, who I met in HS art class. She's a fantastic person and the kind of mom I'd want to be if I ever have kids. 2.) Kim, my stepmother. Racist, homophobic, Trump-loving bigot. I keep her on my friends list purely to avoid drama, but she's muted on my feed. 3.) Katelynn: the ex-girlfriend of one of mine and Jason's friends. She's fantastic, super cool chick. 4.) Kieley is the angel of a wife of who I consider practically my "big brother," Sam. She's a wizard with makeup and I think actually has like, a hug TikTok following or something? 5.) Kathryn is one of my very good childhood friends. We used to go to their house all the time for pool parties, and I distinctly remember seeing Lilo and Stitch for the first time at her place. Do you think you are pregnant? I know for a definitive fact I'm not, even though I haven't had my period in multiple months now. I fucked up my birth control pills and then my psych meds have been changing so much that my body just doesn't know what to do, lol. Do you think hugs are awkward? No, and this is coming from like, THE most awkward person. Multiple people have told me I give the best hugs and it makes me so happy. :') What is your favorite band of all time? It's always going to be Ozzy. Do your siblings dye their hair? Not their full heads, but Ashley has been known to get lighter brown highlights. Have you ever read someone’s journal? No, that's an awfully rude thing to do. If your significant other proposed to you right here, right now, would you accept? I know I would, even though right now's not a good time. Do you think you’ve found the one you want to marry yet? I'm very confident in that. Did the last song you listened to hold any special meaning? It's about a BDSM relationship w/ God so... no :-) How easy would it be to get over the person you currently like/love? It'd be seriously fucking hard and put me in one very dark place. Have you ever been so quiet that nobody noticed that you were there? I know this is an exaggeration, but this has literally happened more than once. When will you see your best friend next? He's coming over Wednesday. What book are you reading, currently? Winter Turning in the Wings of Fire series. Whose bed were you on last? My own. What is your favorite neon color? Ever buy nail polish that color? Pink, and no, not personally. Has anyone ever gotten in your face completely bitching you out? My maternal grandmother did exactly this, once. I deserved it. Have you ever gone hunting before? Do you think it’s wrong? I never have and I never fucking will. I do think it's wrong if you're doing it for sport; you gotta be a special kind of fucked up in my world to take pleasure - even joy - from taking another life, especially one that had NO issue with you and was entirely minding its own business. Food's different; that's survival, and in the rotation of survival, something always has to die. It sucks, but that's life. How many iPods or mp3 players have you had in your entire life? One. Which I got in middle school. AND STILL WORKS. AND I USE IT REGULARLY. Those old-timey rectangle iPods apparently got some fuckin juice in 'em, lol. Who was the last person to call you beautiful? What was your reaction? Girt. I always get real shy and wonder what the hell this man sees, but I always appreciate it a hell of a lot. Do you like watching old home videos of yourself? Ha ha yeah, I used to. They're all VCRs though and we don't have a player anymore, I'm quite certain. Do you ever get paranoid about who your significant other hangs out with? No, I trust him. Have you ever visited someone in a psychiatric home or ward? No; I was always the one IN it. Can you handle movies involving lots of bugs and insects? Yes. What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? Probably pirating music, and no. Sex, menstruation, or puberty - which is the most uncomfortable subject? For me, sex. I'm very awkward and uncomfortable discussing it with pretty much anyone. When you picture flowers in your head, what color are they? I've actually been really into pink tulips lately, so those. Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No, that's not something he does. Would you get back with your last ex if you could? Nope. Is it easy for you to accept loss? NO. NO. NO. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, how long have you guys been together? A year now. I'm very annoyed with Covid for making it so I STILL haven't seen him to give him his anniversary present. And I just wanted to spend the day with him anyway. Who was the last person you caught lying to you? That I remember, Sara, in the message she sent me awhile back. "I haven't [been a Nazi] for years." I'm not that dumb. I literally scoffed when I read it. Honestly, how many people do you have feelings for? One. Honestly, do you believe in yourself? No. Ever gotten in trouble for public displays of affection? Not badly, but I do remember teachers in high school would sometimes scold Jason and I for simply hugging, but we just didn't care. You couldn't even LOOK at someone of the opposite gender and not get in trouble for it in that school. Have you ever been drunk or high? No to both. Have you ever chatted with someone on webcam? Yeah, I remember Jason and I did that at least once when we first started dating. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? I don't cook. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? Yes, for surgery. THE best sleep of my fuckin life lmao. What if a friend asked you to go with her to get an abortion? I'm going the fuck with her. Have your parents ever smoked pot? I know my dad has, but I don't THINK Mom has. Ever made yourself throw up? I've tried to, but I didn't. Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? I guess I... kinda have? I have a friend Lisa that I was chatting with one day, and she was having some health problems going on. She passed out, and when her husband came home, he heard the messenger ding from me and checked it; he'd thought Lisa was asleep, but the way we were talking to each other, David (the husband) knew something was actually wrong with Lisa and he took her to the ER to find out she'd had like, an aneurysm or something along those lines that would have killed her if left untreated. She's fine and a happy but VERY BUSY mom of four now. :'') Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theater? Yes, with The Black Phone because of a very abrupt and intense father/daughter abuse scene that somehow triggered me, like a PTSD reaction, even though I've never been (to my memory) abused. I've talked about it enough months ago and don't want to again. Are you addicted to technology? Oh, I absolutely am. It's been a severe problem almost my whole life. Any fond memories of your first sleepover? I actually don't remember my first "real" sleepover, especially if we're talking me being at someone else's house; I had such severe separation anxiety from my mom that it took me a few years of trying to steadily be able to last. My friends' parents were used to me waking them up in the night 'cuz I couldn't sleep, lol. Have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? If not, do you want to? I don't think I have, and I absolutely never want to. Do you believe in the army, it’s disgraceful to improperly salute? I don't fucking care, man. Do you keep notes, drawings, or letters that people give you? Yes. Have you had a bf/gf that you never kissed? I never kissed Aaron or Juan, but I mean the first was nothing but middle school puppy-love and I dated Juan for less than a day. Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked? I remember a few people used to do this about Jason and it pissed me the fuck off. Like are YOU the one in the relationship? Then why the fuck should you care who I'M attracted to? Who in your life is your number one priority to make sure they’re happy? Girt, probably. Or Mom. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Probably my cat's breath. He loves (gently... ish) biting my nose for some weird reason ha ha, that and just yawning in my face. How did you discover your favorite band? Ozzy, just growing up with Mom's CD case to go through when I was getting into rock and metal. Rammstein I feel like I'd HEARD of somewhere, but I listened to them myself through "Waidmanns Heil" being on a certain Guitar Hero (or Rock Band, idk) edition. When was the last time you performed in front of a group of people? Oh wow, YEEEAAAARS ago when I was still in dance classes and I had to dress up for recitals. The last person you kissed treat you right? He does nothing but that. Reading this reminded me of how this is exactly what his mom asked me when I was first alone with her. I thought it was so sweet, like she was ON it the moment Girt left the room. Are you afraid of clowns? No, they've never gotten to me. What are you listening to at this moment in time? "You Can't Run Away" by Emigrate is BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS. If you were pregnant, how long would you wait to write something about it on Facebook? Well, I wouldn't to begin with because I'd be getting an abortion and I'd be willing to share that with VERY few people. If on some alternate planet I was keeping the baby, I'd wait 'til the first few dangerous weeks have passed when miscarriage is far more unlikely. What’s your favorite kind of lip piercing? (monroe, labret, snakebites, etc.) I have a vertical labret because it's my fave; I like the symmetry it adds to the face.

[butwhyduh]

Screaming

Jason todd x reader

Warning: ptsd and negative thoughts. Angsty.

Jason gasped awake and threw himself to sit up in bed. His throat was raw with screaming and he trembled. Death. All he saw was his death. No that’s not true. He saw everyone’s death. Dick’s, Bruce’s, Damian’s. Hell even yours despite the fact that had never happened. He saw them all in bright technicolor like he was really there. His hands found purchase in the sheets and he gripped them tight.

When you die, some people believe you see God or all your dead relatives in some kind of heaven airport. But really the light fades and you feel so fucking cold and alone. Every night Jason got to experience a little taste of it again. The nightmares were awful but the moments before realizing he’s alive and awake and still feeling dead and alone were horrifying.

His movement had woke you. You had fallen asleep in earbuds again. That’s why his screams didn’t bother you. You gently grasped his shoulder as you pulled them off.

“Jason, I’m here. Are you okay,” you said softly, treating him so delicately. Jason tried to control his breathing. You looked at him with such a concern that his heart wanted to break. He was already broken. His mind was so fucked up but you still slept in bed beside him. Next to a dead man.

“Are you okay, Jaybird,” you repeated. He nodded roughly but you could tell that he was still in his head. You pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped around your body as he curled around you and his fingers clung to your shirt. His breath shivered against your neck.

“I’m right here. You’re okay. It was just a dream,” you told him in a low steady voice like the therapist taught you.

“Thank you,” Jason’s said after a minute. His voice sounded hoarse.

“Of course. Let’s lay back down. Do you want some water?” You asked and he shook his head roughly.

“Just... just stay,” he said holding tighter. You laid down in the bed and Jason laid his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair until his grip relaxed completely and he fell asleep. Despite the fact that your presence was a huge comfort, it didn’t stop the nightmares. Nothing did.

——————————

“Jason, you can tell me anything,” said the therapist. She had a clipboard on the knee of her slacks as she sat back in her chair. “I know your life has been... unusual, but you need to talk to someone. Near death experiences are traumatic. Keeping all of that inside can be very harmful.”

“It was a death experience. Not near,” he reminded her. She sighed. “I was buried in the ground.”

“But you are here. That makes it near death. A little more complex but that’s what happens in Gotham,” she said with a shrug. “Everything is more complex here. I once dated a villain without knowing it until he ended up in Arkham.”

“I’ve got to ask who,” Jason said, happy for the distraction.

“I’m definitely not talking about it. This is your time. Let’s talk about something you do want to talk about. How are things with Y/n?” She said. It was Jason’s turn to sigh.

“Things are great.”

“Why the sigh?”

“Because I’m broken. I’m half here and half in the grave. She’s saving me from my dreams every other night. I worry she’ll wise up and leave,” Jason admitted.

“Sounds like she loves you. Have you considered that she wants to help you? Have you told her what happened? Have you opened up to her?” She asked. Jason’s hand gripped the chair tightly.

“No, I can’t. She’s too nice to know everything. I- I can’t. She knows I died and came back but not how or why or all the horrible stuff that I did afterwards,” he said staring at the ground.

“Do you worry that she’ll leave if she knows the truth?” The therapist asked softly and Jason’s head snapped up to look at her.

“Of course. Wouldn’t you?” He said. His face had twisted in anxiety.

“I do know the truth. I haven’t left. I still care about you,” she reminded him.

“You’re paid a shitload of money by Bruce Wayne,” he retorted.

“Language. He pays the standard fee like everyone else,” she said. “My advice? Talk to her. Let her know about your anxieties. You have a long journey with ptsd but you’ve healed so much these past few months. Don’t you see that?”

“I guess,” he said quietly but she was right. He used to have flashbacks in the middle of the day. He would flinch at anyone touching him. There was no way he would date someone. Things are better but not good.

“Talk to her. That’s your homework. Even just something small,” she said. Jason nodded reluctantly. He knew his therapist was right but it still sucked.

—————————

Jason came home to you in the kitchen. You were humming along to the radio as you cleaned the sink. He watched you for a minute as your hips swayed to the music. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight. You hadn’t noticed him yet.

Jason cleared his throat and you jumped before laughing. You put down the rag and smiled at him. He waved a bag of donuts and a tray holding two coffees at you.

“Well aren’t you a sight,” you said walking over and grabbing the tray. “Coffee and donuts. From the place on 9th?”

“Like I’d go anywhere else. Yours has the x for extra caramel,” he said. You kissed his cheek and he could smell the clean lemon bleach smell on you.

“Aww just like I like it, thanks Jaybird,” you cooed before sitting on the couch. He awkwardly sat on the coffee table instead of the couch. Let’s rip off the bandage, right? You looked up at him confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to you. About... stuff. In my past,” he said and you sat back at the weight of it. He’d never wanted to talk about that. You sat the coffee on the table.

“Okay. Sure.”

“I told you that I died and came back and became Red Hood, right?” He asked and you nodded. “But I had a suit before I died.”

He played with his fingers and gulped. “I was Robin and I worked with Batman.”

You tried to control your shock on your face. He might take it as a judgment and you didn’t want that. He shuffled around with nerves.

“I died as Robin. I’m the dead Robin,” he said. It was infamous that one of the Robins died. And the death apparently was really bad. Closed casket and all. No wonder Jason had horrible nightmares. “I was killed by the Joker.”

He bent and grabbed his drink and took a sip. You placed a hand on his knee and he gave you a half smile. “You aren’t done are you?” You asked after a minute.

“My therapist told me to talk to you,” Jason said somehow sounding more nervous.

“Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. It’s fine-“

“I need to. I... I worry that you’ll leave. That you’ll get tired of this. Me being broken,” he said and you inhaled quickly.

“I would never. You aren’t broken. You’re the best guy I’ve ever dated. I just wished you could see it,” you said cupping his face with your free hand. He frowned. “You’re irreplaceable to me. Truly.”

Jason held your wrist on the hand cupping his face. He searched your eyes for lies or doubt. He looked close to crying and it was hard to see.

“Jason. Worry about what you need to do for yourself and not another second of me leaving. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to throw me out. I’m spoiled with coffee and donuts. You aren’t getting out that easily,” you said with a little smile. He smiled lopsidedly back at you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah? Wanna watch Die Hard and lay on my boobs?” You said and his face split into a laugh.

“How did I get so lucky? Of course I want to. Boobs and Die hard. Pretty perfect pair I have to say,” he said pulling you down on the couch.

“Boobs or Die Hard?”

“Both,” he said snuggling close. You played with his hair as the movie started knowing he probably wouldn’t stay awake long. He needed to make up for his missing the night before. It wasn’t long until his body relaxed and you could tell he finally fell asleep.

You weren’t fixing him. You weren’t the answer to his problem. But you could be a light when he felt at the bottom of the well to help him crawl back up. A friend to lean on. A shoulder to cry on. And a lover to let him know that he wasn’t alone. That he was on the right side of morality. Someone good to see the good in him. Healing is a journey and he was so fucking grateful to have someone to there with him.

[constellationclarke]

Lmao ignore me (if the read more doesn’t work on mobile I’m sorry ya’ll can scroll past this I’m just venting to myself so I don’t go crazy)

Shoutout to my mum and her need to manipulate interactions to make me look bad or embarrassed or like a bitch so she can, what? Have moral superiority?? Oh and then act like nothing is wrong and continuing joking and so trying to further manipulate things by acting like I’m the bad guy or there’s something wrong with me bc I’m no longer happy obviously for being treated like that but to her I’m “moody” or a bitch or “never in a good mood” or “can never take a joke”. I’m so sick of it

Moments ago she came into my room looking for something and while she was here we started joking about something, something really mundane like it was to do with some clothes and shoeboxes like that’s how irrelevant it was and we were both laughing and I was mid laugh when she just comes out with “this isn’t funny my aunt is dying” and I’m just ??? She hadn’t mentioned it at. all. and she just interrupted me, in the midst of our laughter over a joke she actually started to say that and I was stunned and silent because I was so blindsided I didn’t know how to react and then I eventually ask which aunt and if I’d met her and which cousin she’s the mother of and she tells me and then I ask what happened and mum says it’s cancer and then like. Straight after saying that she goes right back into joking and then leaves and I’m just sat here completely stunned. And it’s not the first time she’s done this, she does it all the time. We’ll be joking around and she’ll tease me and it’s fine but as soon as I start I’m disrespectful and need to be serious and ‘this isn’t the time for joking’ or ‘who do you think you are to speak to me that way’ and she’ll just completely ruin the mood just to prove her authority over me and then as soon as she’s done she’ll start joking with me again but it’s always insulting me in a lowkey way and then she’ll be ‘confused’ when I’m all of a sudden not joking back and basically call me a bitch and it’s always been this way

Like as a teenager, whenever I’d have friends over and we would just be chilling quietly in my room she would come in and start berating me for something I apparently did that was wrong and it was all a complete sham because she would do it in english whereas if there really was a problem she would speak to me in portuguese but no, she would find some tiny insignificant thing and go all ‘stern disciplinarian mum mode’ just to, what? Prove to my 13yr old friend “oh look at me disciplining my child and embarrassing her in front of her friends and ruining her evening by intruding on a moment I wasn’t even a part of just to assert my dominance, I’m such a good mother!”

Or the time when I was young and was horrified at the fact that people ate rabbits and so I vehemently refused to eat rabbit meat because it upset me so much and when I was like 10 or roundabouts and we were having a big family dinner and all my aunts and uncles and cousins were there and I was told that for dinner we were having chicken and I had no reason to suspect otherwise and the meat in the pan looked like chicken, not that I paid that much attention to it, so I was having a good time chatting and laughing with my cousins and I didn’t understand why they gave me strange looks when I wanted a second serving and asked them to pass me the chicken but they did and we carried on being kids and dinner went on and then it was over and a few moments later from the ‘grown up’ end of the table mum calls my name so I look over to see what she wants and they’re all looking at me and she’s smirking and asks what I thought of the food and I’m confused but I assume she means because my aunt cooked or something idk so I say it was great and the adults all burst out laughing and she reveals to me it was rabbit and she had got all the adults to lie to me and tell me it wasn’t chicken because she knew I was against eating rabbit so she just. Completely and utterly humiliated me in front of our entire family and lied to me and deceived me into doing something she knew I wasn’t comfortable with and now everybody was laughing and making fun of me and I just had to sit there and take it while trying really hard not to cry or react in any way because I knew that if I did have any sort of negative reaction I would just be further humiliated or punished for it. The other day she brought it up while we were in public and was like ‘haha wasn’t this so funny’ but she’s been treating me like shit all my life and I guess she just thought that I’d always continue to put up with it so boy the look of pure shock on her face when I clearly wasn’t amused and very bluntly said “that’s not funny at all. You humiliated me in front of the entire family and you lied to me. You should be ashamed” was amazing, she literally was speechless for a moment as I continued to calmly eat my lunch and let her and my dad stew in the awkward silence until she hastily cleared her throat and tried changing the subject

And how about how she is very affectionate which I’m always told I should be thankful for that she enjoys showing her love but I’m not because she completely disregards my boundaries (to the point that it’s something that makes me so angry that if I ever have kids I’ve sworn to myself that I’m going to teach them about consent from a young age and that absolutely no one, no matter who they are, family or not, can touch them if they don’t feel comfortable and have every right to say so!!) My mum would like to launch kiss attacks and would end up tackling me and pinning me down because I would say no and try to get away from her so she would do that, thinking it’s all a big joke, and even though she would make me laugh by tickling me, I would not at all be comfortable with it and would actually feel trapped and panicking but I just tried to stay calm despite my gut reaction being to push her off me or kick or do whatever I could to get away but I knew if I did I would be in so much trouble so I would just try to squirm away but accidents happen and sometimes in the midst of the play fighting I’d accidentally hit her or something and she would completely flip out and yell at me and tell me off for being “so mean and cruel and nasty and a horrible person” and punish me. And one time we were joking around because she snatched my phone away in return for affection and I was trying to get it back and also get away from her and she accidentally ended up dropping it and hitting me but then told me not to overreact and at that point it had been like 17/18 years of this and I’d had enough and lost my patience and was upset and no longer in the mood to put up with it and I was emotional but managed to calmly call her out and say that even though I recognised what just happened was an accident and she didn’t mean it, it was unfair that she forces me into situations where I feel uncomfortable and I’ll accidentally hurt her and she’ll get mad but when she does it to me and even almost damages my stuff there’s no problem and I was visibly upset but she didn’t care and just said “no. your phone is fine and you can have it back but I did this by accident but when you hit and hurt me you do it on purpose because you’re mean” which is rich coming from a woman who thinks it’s okay to slap a child if they misbehave and she never apologised and the next day acted like nothing had happened except to ask me if I’d “calmed down yet” and then continued on pushing for affection

Ooo and what about the time on my 18th birthday, you know, a day people get really excited for and everyone views as special? And instead I went to school and was treated like crap and ignored the whole day by my so-called friends for absolutely no reason to the point where I was on the verge of tears at the end of the day and was so emotionally exhausted coming home that I fell asleep for hours. I was vaguely aware of mum coming home and talking to me but I was so tired I asked if we could talk later and she was absolutely fine and understanding and let me sleep (also important to note that during the night one of her uni assignment results had been published but we’ll get back to this in a second) and then I was woken up for dinner and as I come downstairs dad hands me the phone because my uncle and aunt want to say happy birthday and we don’t have a good relationship with them because they’re not good people and have done some shitty stuff to use but I was tired and didn’t want to start trouble and cause fights by refusing to talk to them so I relented and it was just a quick 30 second conversation and even though they’re horrible at least calling me to say happy birthday was a good action right? Apparently I was wrong and a bitch talking to them because when I hang up the phone and go to the kitchen to eat, all of a sudden mum was cold towards me and only spoke to me if it was necessary in clipped short sentences like to answer my question of what was for dinner or to ask me to pass something and she wouldn’t even look at me and I was so confused and things just got worse because dad was so oblivious and because we were silent he got distracted by the news on tv and absorbed in it so dinner was spent in practically total silence and mum finished eating quickly and jumped up immediately to start washing up rather than spend another second at the table with me, ya know, her daughter on her birthday, and then dad also finished before me and got up to do something so . I was eating alone and all I could think about was the shitty day I’d had to the point where I felt like I was going to have a panic attack and ended up bursting into tears over my plate and dad was obviously worried and now I was sobbing that my day had been absolutely horrible and I felt like shit and now on top of it mum was mad at me and won’t even talk to me and I was just breaking down and she just sighed and denied being mad at me and they calmed me down and I went up to bed to rest and later mum came to talk to me and she admitted she was mad at me for speaking to my aunt n uncle and I countered by calmly saying “yeah they’re dicks but at least they called me instead of ignoring me and were nice and I’d already had such a shit day on a day that is supposed to be my day and I was exhausted and didn’t want to cause a fight” and she said “well it’s not just all about you you know, today is about me too since I have birth to you and you didn’t even think of me, I get home and you’re just asleep and when I went to talk to you you didn’t even ask me what grade I got in that assignment when I’d told you the grades were coming out today!” And I was just so shocked into silence and in the end I ended up apologising to her

Let’s not forget the time the night before my english lit A-level, you know, the most important exam to me since at that time I had applied to study english lit at uni and this grade was important, and she and dad had been fighting over something and then that night they’re having a massive screaming match over the phone because he was in Portugal and this is all while I’m trying to study and they’re shouting things at one another and having the worst fight that I’ve ever heard them have, to the point where I genuinely thought they were going to get divorced, that’s how awful it was, and then they start arguing over fucking phone calls and dad is insisting one thing and mum is insisting the other and it was about one night dad talking to me on the phone so they fucking drag me into the argument to clear things up aka say who’s right and who’s wrong and effectively pick a side but it turns out they were both kind of wrong about the situation and I stay neutral and clear things up but that actually makes it worse and I guess mum was expecting me to be on her side and she continues screaming at my dad and then actually starts screaming at me saying I just make things worse and that I’m a liar despite the fact that they’re the ones that dragged their own child into fight just to use me against each other and that I actually had proof to back up what I said!! But no, this is irrelevant and she says I’m a liar and a bad person because I’m purposefully making things worse and I’m not siding with her and she’s genuinely screaming at me and I have enough and basically tell her that she can fuck off dragging me into an argument and trying to use me and that she has no consideration for me and my feelings and the fact that I have a fucking exam the next morning and now have to deal with this shit and I just go back to my room and slam the door and I hear her slam hers and I just end up crying for ages instead of studying because I can’t focus on studying anymore and things seem like they’re falling apart and after a couple of hours she comes to me with a fake ass apology that doesn’t even really apologise for what happened

Oh and after she came to ‘apologise’, she tried to have this big deep talk with me and during the talk I told her that I don’t like it when she calls me stupid because it’s something that she and my dad did that really fucked me up as a kid and now I can’t handle being called it by them and I just tell her I don’t like it and she promises not to do it anymore and guess fucking what. Now she manipulates me with it where instead of just outright calling me stupid she’ll joke “don’t make me call you that word you don’t want me to call you” to get me to do something, like. Is it really that hard to just be a decent fucking human being? And after that fight, because it was so big and they had genuinely screamed stuff at each other about splitting up, naturally there was a moment where I was scared they were going to get divorced or something and during that big ‘deep’ talk after the fight she told me I was “silly” to think that and every now and then if she and dad are having a slight disagreement about something she likes to mock me and say “yeah are you still scared mummy and daddy are getting a divorce” and it’s like. no matter what I say I’m never respected and I’m just mocked and belittled and disrespected and humiliated at every chance so she can prove her superiority and I’m so tired and I wish I could say it was just these things that happen but there have been so many more instances and other things that she’s done to me and I’m genuinely just tired. I’m tired of feeling angry. I’m tired of being treated the way I’m treated and god I just wish I could go back to uni so I’m away from home because this really isn’t good for my mental health

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x03-- And the court had a clerk...

Hello again! It’s nice to have this show back. This episode was a bit less of a standout than the previous two, but I’m still happy with the overall direction for this season. More under the cut (or here, because tumblr sucks). 

When Robert King tweeted the episode title, I asked him if all the titles this season were adding up to one long sentence/story, hoping he’d confirm it and give a little more information. He did! He said it’s “in the Farmer in the Dell mode” and while I think I get what he’s saying, I’m very curious to see how it plays out. Haven’t been able to track down 5x04′s title yet, but the promo is out. (As of this morning! It’s interesting they’re not putting them after the episode this year; I kind of like it.) 

Kurt’s job is up in the air given the new administration. I think this scene exists mostly just to remind us where Kurt works and the stakes.

What month is this supposed to be in? The transition seems recent but no one is wearing masks.  

Kurt spots a poster asking for help ID’ing people at the Capitol on January 6th. He thinks he recognizes someone...

And now we’re in case of the week land. This case is about a small business owner whose business went under after someone created fake news articles accusing him of pedophilia.  

I think the whole point of this (kind of long) scene is to show that this case is a pretty small deal. Low stakes, inexperienced opposing lawyer. (Not even sure why Liz would be arguing this in court, but whatever.)

Tbh I thought this was going to wind up in 9 ¾ court.

Now that we have junior level characters, we get scenes showing that there are, in fact, people at RBL who are mid-level. Liz asks an associate to work on something, he asks another associate to work on it, she delegates to other associates, and they delegate to Marissa and Carmen. This work seems terrible.  

It’s so funny to me how this is probably more realistic than most of the lawyering on the show and yet it only shows up selectively. We only see the hierarchy here to make it clear that Marissa and Carmen are at the bottom.  

David Lee interrupts and asks for Carmen. He’s very rude to her. Interestingly, she’s hesitant to leave her grunt work and follow David, even though she must know he outranks the associate who gave her the grunt work.

“Why am I supposed to know you?” David asks her as they walk through the halls. “I don’t know if you are,” Carmen responds. “Why does Benjamin Dafoe know you?” he asks. She doesn’t know who he is.  

“Who are you?” Dafoe asks when Carmen enters. She states her name, again. “Why are you important?” he asks. “I don’t think that I am,” Carmen responds.  

Then Dafoe says his top client, and it’s a name that the characters all know. I’m glad this scene is free of any “he’s the white OJ” expository lines (that’s from Sweeney’s introduction) -- it’s clear from the reactions and the discussion of police and rape that the top client is a bad guy, probably a rapist. The rapist wants Carmen to represent him.

Putting 2 and 2 together, Carmen asks if the rapist knows Rivi. He’s not, but he’s at the same prison. As soon as Carmen says she’s representing Rivi, David Lee switches gears, understanding the situation and trying to sign the new business. He’s so shameless!  

Marissa sorts ALL the papers. There are a LOT of papers. I’m swamped. Look at all this paper.

She catches the associate who assigned her the task leaving for the night just as she finishes up, and cheerfully notes she’s finished the task. Then the associate mentions this was only half of the bills. Marissa does not like that. Since her goal in wanting to be a lawyer is mostly just to give her something exciting to do and earn respect... this hierarchy thing is not going so well.

Marissa decides that after her rough day, she’s going to stop by Wackner’s court. He’s in the middle of a case about Emily in Paris fanfiction and he’s very happy to see Marissa.  

Wackner’s night court has a program—it notes the sponsor is Copy Co-op (I thought it was Copy Coop?) and the paper products were also provided by them. And “there will be regular intermissions at the discretion of Judge Wackner.” It’s very theatrical.  

Wackner takes a recess and calls Marissa to his “chambers.” He asks for her thoughts on the case. “All they want is attention and to feel like they’ve won,” Marissa notes. Wackner’s on the same wave length and compares it to the Scarecrow’s diploma at the end of The Wizard of Oz. So, he makes copyright certificates and some minor modifications to each of the fanfic books. They say “I respect you and I love you” and that’s that.

Wackner catches Marissa before she leaves and asks her to be his law clerk—part time or full time, 10% of all the legal filings and unlimited use of copy machines. She is hesitant because she “doesn’t even know what this is.”

Wackner says his court is “the future.” Marissa turns him down; notes she wants to pass the bar. “You know why all these people are here? ‘Cause the courts and the lawyers and the appeals have made justice... unattainable. Out of reach. To anyone who doesn’t have a shitload of money to wait it out. That’s why Exxon beats out Mr. Nobody. Read Kafka’s Before the Law.”  

I just read it, and you should too! It literally is a page, but tl;dr, there’s a man who wants to get to the law and instead he spends his whole life trying to win over the first of many gatekeepers on the path to the law. He never gets through the gate.  

“Justice is only just if it’s available to everyone,” Wackner says. Marissa thinks about that.

As I said last week, it’s smart that Wackner makes so much sense. Hearing him say all this, knowing that it’s true... it makes it very easy to get on board with the thought experiment. Of course there would be huge repercussions to this kind of system, but it makes so much sense it’s compelling TV!

Kurt’s showering when Diane gets home, which gives her time to stumble across the WANTED poster and notice that Kurt has drawn facial hair onto one of the pictures. “Who is this?” she asks him. “No one,” he says. “Well, you drew in a beard and a moustache on him,” Diane notes. Kurt says he was doodling, but Diane calls him out as he is the “exact opposite of a doodler.” Kurt says he thought it was someone he knew, but he’s not sure. Diane pushes him to tell the feds. Kurt reiterates he’s not sure, but it’s someone he went shooting with. “Oh my God, then it’s him,” Diane jumps to (not incorrect) conclusions. Kurt says he didn’t talk that way; he’s a veteran. “Kurt! That’s the profile!” Diane argues. Kurt isn’t convinced and he doesn’t want to be responsible for naming names. He notes he’ll be threatened with indictment for not naming names and then only lawyers will end up benefitting. Diane is not convinced.

I think this is an interesting conflict for Kurt and Diane. I understand why Kurt is hesitant to speak out before he’s sure. And I understand and agree with Diane that it’s important to identify the attackers and prevent anything like that from happening again.

I don’t mean to blame Kurt, exactly, but I feel like all of what happens next could’ve played out differently if Kurt had been just a little clearer with Diane about why he was hesitant to ID the man. Like, the threat of indictment for not naming names sounds like some typical anti-government rambling. Saying you specifically are afraid that this will turn back on you and you need to weigh your options and come up with a plan first would put Diane in a very different mode, in which they’d work together to craft the best strategy. Because this man would’ve been ID’d by someone, sooner or later, and Kurt would’ve needed to be prepared.  

Diane stares at the wanted poster at work and asks Jay to find his identity. He’s on the FBI TEN MOST WANTED? Ten!? Ok!  

Diane shares the extra information she has—the gun range and that he’s a veteran—and Jay gets to work.  

Turns out there’s no money in the case that Liz, a name partner, is working on and Marissa just spent all those hours sorting bills for. I could’ve told you there was no money in that case lol.  

Jay IDs the guy very fast. He’s faster than the feds because they didn’t know where he shot. The range had his license on file, and Jay got ahold of it.

“Well, we don’t pay you enough,” Diane says. “Oh, I know that,” Jay laughs.  

Diane says she’s going to think about calling the feds—it's definitely the same guy.

Marissa notes someone high profile (David Cord, who I presume is a thinly veiled stand-in for David Koch given the name, his role in the plot, and the fact that he is “David Cord of the Cord Brothers”) in the lobby giving a fake name and goes to tell Liz.  

David Cord is performing magic tricks for the receptionists (they don’t recognize him) when Liz and Marissa show up. “I knew your father. I hated your father,” Cord says. “Yes, well, he hated you too,” Liz says. He says he gave a fake name to see what the reception would be like since he’s kinda infamous.  

Liz introduces Marissa as one of the law clinic lawyers. Marissa knows what to say in this situation. Specifically, she knows that it is the exact right moment to name drop her father.  

“Democrats as far as the eye can see,” Cord notes. At that, Liz asks Marissa to get Julius involved.

More good expository work! (No, editor feature of Word, I do NOT want that to say “Better expository work,” that would change my meaning, go away and please stop grading my recap??? I don’t know how I brought this up but it’s telling me my score is 72%, so a C, and it’s driving me crazy. Oh, now I’m a 71%. It had me at like, 50%, because I had written “Wackner” and “Wackner” is not a word. No shit.)  

Anyway, back to the exposition. I like that we don’t get a line like, “Liz! David Cord, the Republican super donor, is here!” We just get to see Liz’s reaction, Cord’s hate of Liz’s father, and the line about democrats. Then it becomes clearer who Cord is.

Just noticed Liz is wearing an Apple Watch.

Liz stands for her meeting with Cord, likely to maintain power. Cord says January 6th changed everything to him and now he’s all about unity and loving America.  

Cord has something to say about Liz’s case, the one that’s not making any money, and he seems to know quite a lot about it. That spooks Liz.  

Then Cord offers her $12 million to continue the case for another six months (all of these months, seemingly, will play out in the couple of days the rest of this episode takes, but, whatever). He just wants them to go after the social media company that distributed the fake news... and Section 230.

Don’t know what that is? Now you do, because there is a Good Fight short! These work so much better when they’re actually needed (explaining concepts, etc.) than when they’re trying to force one into every episode (remember that Downton Abbey one? What... was that?)  

I was talking to @mimeparadox about this short and he pointed out that this short has a VERY clear POV on an issue that actually doesn’t seem to be all that straightforward. If you’re like me and only had a vague sense of what Section 230 was prior to this episode, this short is telling you what to think of it—it isn’t just explaining what it is.

I do tend to agree with the show’s POV on most things, but this is an issue I’d like to read more on. I love how Section 230 was something I hadn’t really read up on prior to this episode and now that it’s been on TGF I realize it’s something that actually, yes, I would’ve been interested in knowing about earlier. Is this because things that are on TGF are interesting to me because they’re on TGF or is it because TGF generally only discusses things that would be interesting to me? Probs a little bit of both.  

Diane asks Jay how to make an anonymous phone call and he hands her a burner phone. She calls the FBI with the rioter’s name. She doesn’t leave her name and then she dumps the phone.  

Credits! Did you catch there’s a Jordan Boatman in the credits? She plays one of the associates who passes down the grunt work to Marissa, and she’s Michael Boatman’s daughter in real life! She’s also been in one other episode, in season 3.  

I never get tired of these credits!  

The RL partners (and some associates who are on the case? I think these are the same ones who delegated the work to Marissa?) debate whether or not they should take Cord’s money. Madeline notes that he’s funded a lot of Republican campaigns; Julius notes that both Republicans and Democrats agree that Section 230 is flawed and this is an opportunity for unity.

Diane notes that the right doesn’t want to stop conspiracy theories from spreading, so is this really that bipartisan? “It would help if the boomers would stop falling for those conspiracy theories and sharing it with their friends,” an associate (I believe this is Michael Boatman’s daughter again) notes. That quiets the room and the partners all glare at her. Yeah, that was a kind of stupid thing to say. First of all, it’s just not appropriate to say to the partners, and it’s also, like, missing the point? If it’s easy for conspiracy theories to spread among boomers, maybe just expecting each member of that generation to suddenly have a millennial’s understanding of the internet is the wrong strategy? Maybe there’s some structural issue here? That maybe, just maybe, this case is actually about?  

The associate also points out that the internet is currently a place where people can speak out about sexual harassment-- “they repeal section 230, and there would be no #MeToo.”

One of the partners says he doesn’t believe that—if they regulate section 230, then newspapers can actually be competitive and there’s still free speech online.  

“We’re not going back to reading newspapers, grandpa,” some associate says. What the actual fuck, dude? Who talks like that to their boss?! It’s so condescending. He’s also wrong! “Newspapers” are not just physical things... reporting by major publications still matters and will continue to matter. Like, is he suggesting that in the future all news will just be random people tweeting things they think are true with no fact checking or curation? Sure, journalism is struggling right now—but I don’t think that’s because there’s a lack of desire for well-reported news.  

I am glad the partners call him out on saying “grandpa” and honestly I’m shocked he isn’t asked to leave the discussion after that rude remark. Unless this young looking dude is a partner too? But I don’t think he is.  

Julius notes that if they’re going to pursue this case, they need money like Cord’s. At that, Liz starts to leave the meeting. “We haven’t decided if we’re taking this Cord money yet,” Madeline protests. “Of course we are,” Liz says and leaves.  

Now that’s more like it! I’m not sure if this is necessarily the best way to handle this, but she’s a) correct, they were always going to take the money because it is $12 million and an issue of interest and b) using her authority. Should Liz be making decisions totally on her own? Maybe not. Does Liz making this decision and then leaving (with everyone accepting that she’s correct) cut through a lot of bullshit and establish Liz as the one in charge? Yup.

Diane says, “Ooh-kay” with a little bit of an eyeroll after Liz exits, but she’s still laying low. I think in a different season Diane might’ve tried to push back.  

Is it me or does Baranski get a lot of material this episode we haven’t seen before? Lots of really good reaction shots/tones in this episode I don’t really think we’ve seen from Diane before. I’m impressed there’s still new stuff after 12 years.

At some point maybe I will actually write the essay I’ve been wanting to write for ages about how TGF is still so relevant despite being in a universe that should be showing its age by now. I wish I could find the first time that I called TGW a period piece set in the present day (I know it would’ve been during season five) because I think that’s the key to TGW/TGF’s enduring success. The shows always feel timely because they try to capture the present moment (which is, of course, always changing) and don’t get stuck in any one moment in time. Further, the fact that the writers are always so tuned in to events and skilled at quickly reacting to what happens in the world makes them VERY good in a pinch, which is (I think) why they’re able to make the most of unexpected situations (Josh leaving TGW, the pandemic).  

Liz and Julius bring a suit against ChumHum to attack 230. Judge Friend is initially skeptical of their argument that 230 is unconstitutional; then she’s intrigued. I am too. This argument about the press is a very interesting one. I obviously have a lot of reading to do on 230, but my take after this episode is pretty much that social media platforms have to be held responsible in some way, but I don’t think it’s feasible or desirable for them to be responsible for every single one of billions of posts. I think there has to be some way to regulate social media giants that would allow everyday people to share things and speak out but would prevent the curated (even by an algorithm) spread of fake news and make social media giants accountable when there are very public bad actors using their platforms. What that regulation would be I have no idea. I just refuse to believe that our options are to give the social media sites full immunity or to regulate the internet so strongly that no one is able to speak freely because all the platforms are worried about lawsuits.  

Over at the VA, people are being fired. When Kurt gets into his office, Madeline Starkey (wait, are there two characters named Madeline in this episode?) is waiting for him. She’s still very quirky and scary.  

Starkey says the guy that Diane reported is now saying Kurt trained him on using assault rifles and buying ammunition in bulk. Kurt notes these were topics covered in a group setting, which Starkey knew—and what she’s really after is the names of the others in the group. (She may already know them, since she knows there were five of them.)

Kurt refuses to name names and just stares at her.  

Case stuff happens! (I liked the last two episodes a lot but it’s much faster for me to just write, “case stuff happens” for some of the scenes.)

Hey, surprise Aaron Tveit! (Not really a surprise; he is in the credits. But still yay!)  

I don’t really know why Liz and Julius are talking about newspapers specifically and not all types of fact-based journalism/press? I feel like their argument is most convincing when it’s about actual newspapers (especially local ones) but still would apply to cable news...

Marissa’s still hard at work sorting papers when the associate comes back in and informs her she can stop; they’ve changed strategies and everything she’s done is now irrelevant. She also says “I forgot to tell you” at the start of that thought, meaning that she neglected to tell Marissa this important information earlier and wasted her time. Marissa is not pleased and so she goes to Wackner’s court, where Wackner now has a deli ticket machine and is wearing super-sized novelty sunglasses. Why not!

He sees Marissa and calls a five-minute recess. In “chambers,” Marissa tells him she’d like to work for him part-time but keep her RL job.  

Wackner needs her help processing more copyright certificates. He’s priced them competitively at $20 and found that a lot of writers want these certificates, even though they have no legal value. (Neither do actual copyrights, Wackner notes. And he notes that if anyone plagiarizes, they can sue in HIS court.)  

“Marissa, I’m building something here. I want you to join me. I want your advice on cases. I want to bounce legal theories off you,” he says. “What are your legal theories?” she asks. “I don’t know. That’s why I need to bounce them,” he says.  

Marissa gives him from noon to 2 and 5-7, which seems awfully ambitious for someone working at a law firm!

“That’s how revolutions are made. Back rooms of copy shops,” he says, accepting her offer.  

Kurt is sulking in the dark when Diane arrives home. He lets her know about Starkey’s visit and she immediately goes into lawyer mode. Notably, this scene does not spend much time on how Starkey found out the rioter’s name. Curious if they’re saving that for later or if Diane and Kurt both know what Diane must have done or if Kurt think’s it’s a coincidence.  

Kurt SET UP A TOUR OF THE CAPITOL for one of the veterans in his shooting group, and that tour was ON JANUARY 6TH! I really do wish he’d told Diane that upfront.  

Maybe the long pause where Kurt refuses to tell Diane which congressperson arranged the tour even after she promises she won’t say is him letting on that he knows that Diane ID’d the guy? Or maybe it’s just Kurt.  

I do not like the dead birds in Starkey’s office, mostly because I do not like thinking about dead birds.

Starkey compares Diane and Kurt to the Conways.  

And now more case stuff happens.  

Julius gets to question a witness for the first time in two years! He’s a little shaky at first but then he does a fantastic job! Yay Julius!

When Diane arrives at the office, reception is filled with around a hundred teddy bears. “What?” she asks. “Build-a-Bears. They were sent to Marissa,” the receptionist explains. “Okay... why?” Diane asks the logical next question. The receptionist does not know.  

“This one’s a Marissa bear,” she says, showing Diane a bear wearing boots and a wig. It does not look much like Marissa and it says “Hug me.”

Diane looks confused and furious at the same time. Her look here is, like, a milder version of the death stare she gives Alicia in Outside the Bubble when she learns about Alicia and Cary’s plan to leave.  

“Why don’t we, meaning you, take all these stuffed animals and put them in the conference room,” Diane instructs the receptionist. She is NOT! HAPPY! The receptionist seemed to be having fun with the bears, but clearly the right answer was to have done something with them and... not to have put them over every surface in reception. Eeek.  

Carmen’s new client, the rapist, arrives at the firm before anyone can hide the bears. “This may not be the firm for you,” his advisor/lawyer (I’m not totally sure what this dude’s job is) warns.  

Madeline notices the rapist and glares at the receptionist. “I know. I’m putting them in the conference room,” the receptionist says, thinking Madeline is upset about the bears. She is not upset about the bears.

Diane finds Marissa, who’s working with Carmen again. She asks Carmen to give them a moment.

“Why are there hundreds of teddy bears in our reception?” Diane asks. Marissa is confused. Diane shows her the Marissa bear. Marissa looks horrified and amused. “That doesn’t even look like me,” Marissa notes, completely missing how pissed off Diane is. I don’t think we have seen Diane be this direct/no-nonsense in ages.  

“That would seem to be beside the point. What is going on, Marissa?” Diane demands. Marissa suspects this is based on some advice she offered to a client who was buying a Build-a-Bear franchise and thinks this is a thank you gift. “What client? You’re not a lawyer! Why do you have clients?” Diane says exasperatedly.  

Marissa gives her a look, and Diane immediately understands that she’s been back to Wackner’s court. “Oh my God, this is about that Copy Coop court?”

“Marissa, no. By participating in that simulacrum of a courtroom, you exposed this firm to malpractice, sanctions, and God knows what,” Diane says. If that were really true, she wouldn’t have sat there and argued. I mean, I don’t know the legality of this all, but I feel like it’s a bigger optics issue than legal issue if Diane and other lawyers are willing to even consider participating?  

“If you wish to continue your employment at this firm, you will never do anything like that again. Do you understand?” Diane says. She will not hear any arguments.  

I love that Marissa is the thing that keeps Wackner coming back. It’s a good plot for her, but structurally, it also allows the show to keep Wackner around without many contrivances. Wackner sees that Marissa would understand what he’s up to, she sees that he shares some of her frustrations with the law, and they both want to work together again. It’s not like suddenly everyone’s talking about Wackner’s court and all the cases somehow end up there or anything.

The receptionist, who is having a truly terrible day, comes into announce that Kurt and Starkey have arrived. “Don’t put them in the conference room!” Diane commands, knowing that the teddy bears will be there. It’s too late, though, because the receptionist (who previously seemed to be fine at her job if bad at recognizing public figures and understanding that partners might not find teddy bears amusing) has already put them in the conference room. I feel bad for her, and don’t think the other things were her fault, but I feel like she could’ve seen this one coming...  

I find the teddy bears HILARIOUS, mostly because the reactions to them are so funny. It’s kind of the same gag as the balloons for Lucca in season two, but I don’t really care, because I’m getting to see Diane Lockhart treat hundreds of Build-a-Bears like they are a real work problem.

Starkey jokes about the bears; Kurt is silent.  

The rioter from the poster is now accusing Kurt of coming up with the STRATEGY for January 6th, which Kurt and Diane both dismiss as bullshit.  

I could do without Starkey’s musical cues.

I can’t tell if Kurt is in trouble here or if she’s just pressing him to name names. Why wouldn’t she just have rioter guy name names if he’s so eager to blame Kurt? I guess maybe if the others were actually there, he might be less likely to name the names of his actual co-conspirators? Or, Starkey might already know the names (surely the shooting range has logs) and be using this to raise the stakes.  

No one (except maybe the partner named Daniel) is happy about the rapist in reception. “Since when are we representing people like Wolfe-Coleman?” Julius asks. Didn’t these people help both Sweeney (though I think Sweeney was in some weird police brutality case and they didn’t actually want to represent him) and Bishop? And Rivi? But they draw the line here? Sure.  

Ah, there we go, an expository line-- “he’s the next Jeffrey Epstein”. Almost made it the whole episode without one of these. I’ll forgive it since it’s so late in the episode lol.  

“Did you approve this, Liz?!” Madeline demands. Liz did not. Daniel wonders if that means Diane approved it. Liz doesn’t think so and calls Diane (who happens to be walking past) in.  

“I know, the teddy bears. I’m working on it,” Diane says when she opens the door. I think the teddy bears are a bigger issue to Diane than to anyone else.  

Diane didn’t approve representing Mr. Rapey either. She’s uncomfortable that a meeting was happening without her; Madeline notes that she is standing there specifically because they wanted to involve her.  

David Lee pops up out of nowhere with the answer: one of the new associates (not Marissa, “the real one”) pulled in Mr. Rapey. Are there only two associates now even though orientation was for a big group?  

Firth is gone, btw. David Lee is the new Mr. Firth. I have no idea why David would want to be STR Laurie’s guy for managing RL but... sure, whatever? David Lee is an effective antagonist, especially in small doses, and this allows the writers to keep him around and continue the STR Laurie plot without a key guest star. If STR Laurie is still a thing, and it seems like it is going to be a thing for a while, then having David Lee take on this role makes sense for plot. Otherwise they’re going to have to shoehorn him in to every plot somehow. At least now he has a reason to be around.  

Liz and Diane take a walk to chat. Diane is worried about having David as their boss. Liz says she has a worse worry—David Lee knew exactly when to come downstairs with information, suggesting he know what they were talking about. “Would he do something like that?” Liz asks when Diane wonders if there’s a bug. “Oh, yeah,” Diane replies. Hah, yeah. He absolutely would.  

They decide to have Jay search for bugs and Liz is frustrated with how much time they have to spend on things other than lawyering. Yup.

“What is going on with all the teddy bears in the conference room?” Liz asks as they head back to the office. “It’s a long story,” Diane sighs. I also love that the teddy bears link the various pieces of the episode together—it feels like all of these threads are happening simultaneously because of that constant.  

I don’t get RL’s approach to clients. Bishop and Rivi are ok, Wolfe-Colman is not (except that actually he is fine). Cord is okay too. Do they draw the line anywhere? I know Liz was right when she said that OF COURSE they were taking the money, but is there really nothing that differentiates that situation from this one? I feel like there should be.

Marissa goes back to see Wackner. Since someone refuses to say “I respect and I love you,” Wackner reverses his ruling. This is part of the “Bad Loser Law of last Wednesday,” so the rules of Wackner’s court are clearly a work in progress.

Marissa explains she can’t be the law clerk because of Diane. She tries to connect him with a real lawyer, still not understanding exactly what Wackner’s after. “You know just enough not to crush what I’m doing here,” Wackner explains. “A real lawyer will look for reasons why not. I need someone to look for reasons why.”  

Case stuff happens. I cannot read Cord’s handwriting. Liz and Julius lose the case because Judge Friend says what’s happening isn’t fair, but it is constitutional. (So here we have, at least in the show’s POV, a good and attentive judge who can’t make decisions that make sense because she’s bound by a document written before anyone had ever dreamed of the internet.)  

Cord is waiting for Liz in her office. He’s prepared to bankroll an appeal. Did they blow thorough that $12 million already? Impressive; it’s been like a day.  

Cord says they are definitely the firm he wants. Interesting.

Now Liz wants a meeting with Carmen, so it’s Marissa who leaves the room. This scene seems like it was meant to be a different day?  

Liz wants to talk about Mr. Rapey. Carmen is, yet again, chill about the case. “Carmen, is there anyone that you would not represent?” Liz asks. Funny, Liz, I could ask you the same. Being hesitant about it is not changing the fact that you’re representing bad people. Carmen’s just cutting the bullshit.  

“I don’t understand. Is there someone you don’t want me to represent?” I love how Carmen’s incredibly polite responses always seem very pointed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Carmen’s reply, and yet it puts Liz in a place where she can’t dance around what she’s trying to say.  

“I’m just trying to get a sense of who you are,” Liz explains.  

Then Liz decides she’s going to help on the Craig Wolfe-Colman (Mr. Rapey) case, and they will keep talking about her career path. Liz, this does not seem like the right solution! You're worried about your associate representing bad people so you’re like, I know, what if I ALSO represented bad people? If your goal is to convince Carmen not to take clients like this, you’re kinda shooting yourself in the foot!  

“Are you worried about me?” Carmen says, again turning things on Liz. “I don’t know what I am about you,” Liz replies. Me either. Well, I know I'm intrigued, but beyond that, no clue!

All the bears have ended up in Diane’s office, where Wackner is waiting. He jokes about how his court is always seen as informal, yet this real fancy law office is covered in Build-a-Bears. Then he says he wants to hire RL—he's willing to pay. He wants consultation from Marissa (“consultation on legal issues”) and he’s prepared to spend a lot. And, if there’s one thing we know, it’s that they’re always going to take the money. So, they do.

I love that Wackner’s goal is to “perfect my little clubhouse of the law.” It’s a fun plot, and it also allows for the rules in his court to change (I’m sure we’re going to be treated to/subjected to a lot of whimsical gags around changing and ridiculous rules). It's also a good way to work through the thought experiment over the course of the season. It’s not like Wackner already has a system set up and it’s perfect—I'm sure we’re going to see his system run into issues and explore that more, too.  

Wackner monologues a bit here about why he’s running fake court, and he lets us know he’s going to monologue. Basically he thinks people no longer want to help people and are only motivated by their own self interest. He notes that no one talks about the Peace Corps anymore and asks the last time Diane heard anyone say those words. I’m sure I’ve heard a reference more recently but my mind went RIGHT to season one Cary Agos saying “Peace Corps. Belize,” as some kind of smarmy pickup line. This is likely not where my mind was supposed to go.

Wackner wants “A new Peace Corps. For America.” Diane’s sympathetic to that and agrees to take him on as a client.  

Wackner asks if he can take a bear. Diane instructs him to take two.  

Aaaand Wackner and Cord end up on the elevator together. Wackner hands Cord a bear, the elevator doors close, and the episode ends. Since last episode ended with Marissa and Carmen in the elevator together, I’m hoping this will be how every episode this season ends. I think using the Kings’ favorite liminal space to transition between episodes is kind of fun, and it fits with the ellipses at the end of every episode title.  

Speaking of... did you see today’s elevator-themed episode of Evil? It was written by the Kings. Those two have been obsessed with elevators for at least a decade.  

[6knotty6thotty6]

So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)

Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:

Moonstruck: 

This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.

When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion. 

Anyway.

This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered,  was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.

I thought, "What a load of bullshit."

A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.

A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."

When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it. 

I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it." 

Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got. 

"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"

"Sure!"

"Mom, can I have a car?"

"No problem!"

"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"

"Absolutely!"

She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it. 

At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.

But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat. 

My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes. 

I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not. 

I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled. 

It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway. 

I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.

I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."

But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you? 

Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late! 

[lynkolnevans]

Yo so I had an idea for a Saiki K fic but I gotta make sure of something first. Does anyone remember, either in canon or fan made, of something like this interaction:

Kusuke: I will pay you money to give me information on Kusuo and what he is doing. All you have to do is betray my brother's trust in you.

Character I Do Not Remember: No! I will never betray Kusuo!

*Later*

Character: Kusuo! Your brother offered me money to spy on and betray you, but I did not accept his proposal! I am super loyal and would never betray you!

Kusuo: What are you a fucking idiot? You just missed out on shitloads of money - money we could have used - and the opportunity to troll the shit out of my asshole brother. Hell, he's practically giving you free money with the amount of stalking and creepy shit he's already doing. Dumbass you should of taken the deal!

Like, I swear I saw something like this, i just cant remember? Did someone already post something like this? Am I just combining something from a different fandom? Was it Deja Vu?

****Update****

Alright, so the general consensus is that the above scene is from BBC’s Sherlock and did not happen in Saiki K canon. Even if it’s been seven years since I watched Sherlock, it must of wormed its way into my brain and stayed there.

Now that the mystery is solved, I want to say that anyone is free to use the scenario above and write their own fic! I just wanted to make sure someone had not already done so or something similar cause I was gonna add this into a Self-Insert OC fic where the main character actually takes the deal.

In summary: BBC Sherlock is where the scene comes from. You can use the above scenario to write your own fanfic. However, I plan on including the scenario in a Self-Insert OC fanfic where the SIOC accepts the deal.

Thanks for all help!!! <3

[prorevenge]

Shady boss lies about me to coworkers, I have her fired and in dept for several years after.

I have been lurking around here fore quite some time, and wishing I had a good story for you, until suddenly I realized I do! This happened back in 2011/12 when I was the ripe old age of 19 years old. This is a long one, so do strap in.

I got a part time job at a fast food place specializing in subs, not subway, but very similar, when I was 17. It was located in the towns mall, and was fairly busy. It’s a national chain where I’m from. When I started there the owner at the time was really nice, and she started that branch in my town. She was very strict on following all the cleaning requirements and took real pride in her shop. The way it was set up financially was that the franchise taker basically had to work from open to closing (9 am-7 pm) to even have a chance at making a decent living, and preferably only have one part timer helping for a few hours when it was at its busiest. It’s like the MLM of fast food. Why anyone would take on such a business wager is beyond me, but I digress. However, this owner actually managed to make money off it.

A year or so after I started, the owner decided she would move to a different part of the country and sell her branch and have someone else take over. That lucky individual was my co-worker who was three years older than me. (From now on Bosslady) She had worked there since it opened and was the natural choice to move up the ladder. Because she didn’t have the money to pay for the share in the franchise, about $5k, and nobody else was willing to pay that and have to work their ass off for minimal revenue, HQ allowed her to take over while they bought the old owner out, and HQ kept the share.

Now, Bosslady had no idea how to run a mile, much less a business, and small things started happening quite soon after she took over. I would normally work there after school, by myself, but she would often hang around the mall when she had finished work. Bosslady always complained about how little money she made, and would often come by when me or the other part timers were working and tell us to give her $20-100 right out of the register. Considering total daily sales never reached more than about $1200, that was a lot. I barely made $12/h, so my motivation was too low to care, and neither did the rest of the part timers, so we complied and gave her the money. My spider sense was tingling a bit, telling me it was fishy to grab money right out of the register, even if she was the owner, but if she wanted to dig her own grave that was fine by me.

I was friends with Bosslady and we would hang out and often hung out on the weekends, and we worked saturdays together. Which ment we would go out on Friday nights, get shit faced and work the next day hung over. Oh to be young. I would only go out during the weekends and never missed a day of work no matter how hung over I was, and saturdays were the only days I would be hung over. Besides school and work, I was in a dance company, and had dance classes everyday, mostly after 7pm, but a few days I had them earlier and couldn’t work no matter what. This is important.

Every night we would count the register, leave $100 dollars in change and small bills for the next day, and deposit the rest in a safe at the mall. I’m not entirely sure, because it’s been a long time, but I do believe Bosslady would tell us to take the difference out of the $100 for the register, somehow believing the money would magically show up the next day. After a while we started having problems with the distributers, we were not allowed to order on credit, and had to go to the bank to pay the bills in person etc. After that things started getting really weird, and Bosslady refused to let us make the cash deposits at night, insisting that we put the money bags in one of the cabinets inside the shop, which after a month or two culminated to a lot of cash. We had also had trouble a few months with getting paid on time. Since I worked the most out of all the part timers, I had the biggest salary, and the people who administered pay decided to pay the smaller checks first. This girl had bills to pay so that did not sit well with me. I was also the hardest worker out of all of us, Bosslady included.

Then one lovely Tuesday while I was at school, one of the other part timers asked me to cover her shift, to which I said I wasn’t able to because not only did I have back-to-back dance classes I also had a paper to write for school. Later that night I get a text from the girl saying “if you were hung over you could have just said so, you don’t have to lie..” and I’m like “excuse me? I don’t drink on school nights, and there’s no way I would have had the time to do so last night with dance class right after work and working on my paper” to which she just answered “yeah sure, Bosslady told me you were out last night”. The funny part is, this was a fairly small town, so there where nowhere to go on weeknights, so even if I wanted to break my own rules and party on a school night, I couldn’t. This really pissed me off, and figured I would stop playing nice and saving Bosslady’s ass.

Que the revenge: One day out of the blue, during summer, Bosslady declared she was going to go on a last minute, two week vacation to the states, and told me to take care of the shop while she was gone. I said fine, but would like more notice next time. I also asked her how she paid for it, considering she wasn’t able to take out any salary from the shop, and she just said “oh, I had some savings”. I just thought “Hmm, that’s weird considering you actually don’t make money”, but didn’t say anything.

The first day I was in charge HQ called, and the conversation went like this:

HQguy: “hey, is Bosslady around?”

Me: “No, she took a last minute vacation to the states and put me in charge, didn’t she tell you?”

HQguy: “No, she did not indulge that information. But maybe you can help me. Do you know what happened to all the cash deposits from the past few months?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re in one of the cabinets here. Bosslady told us not to deposit them, she even yelled at me when I was about to, because I felt really uncomfortable knowing we had what must have been more than $15k lying around in the shop, and gave me an excuse about having to look them over”

HQguy: “Are you serious?!”

Me: “Sure am. What should I do?”

HQguy: “I know the previous owner is in town, maybe you can call her and ask if she can come help you? She knows what’s what, and please deposit all the cash today!”

Me: “Sure, no problem. I will look over all the cash bags to see how much there actually is and make sure they’re all there and deposit them ASAP” and we hung up.

I called the old owner and told her what was up, and she sounded really surprised and was there within ten minutes. Together we quickly looked over all the cash, but didn’t count it. They where in these little pouches that had a form on the front where you filled in how many of each bill and coin was in it, so we figured the right amount would be in each bag. They weren’t sealed, because Bosslady had told us not to seal them before putting them in the cabinet. I then put them all in a bag and discretely made my way over to the safe where we deposited them. It was on the other side of the mall, and the mall was open so my heart was racing. I felt like everyone knew I was carrying a shitload of cash.

The old owner started asking me if we kept up with the cleaning requirements, and I answered truthfully that Bosslady never told us to do any of the time consuming stuff, like the ice-cube machine, saying that we would have to do that after closing and she didn’t have the money to pay us for the extra hours, so she said would do it on the weekends herself. Old owner just shrugged and told me she had to leave. Since I was all alone in the shop and it was fairly quiet, I started looking around for things to clean. This was around 4 pm. I quickly realized that she had never cleaned anything like she said she had. Under the fridges and workbenches there where LAYERS of dirt, the water tank in the ice cube machine was GREEN with algae, the cooling fans in the refrigerators where covered in mold. I started cleaning, but quickly realized this would require my full attention, so I closed the shop early. I called the old owner and she supported my decision and called the mall manager for me to let them know what was up.

I have never cleaned that much in my life. I scrubbed everything. I pulled all the refrigerators out and scrubbed thoroughly behind everything. What took the longest was the ice cube machine. I wasn’t done until 11 pm that night. Being the petty bitch I am, and being pissed Bosslady went on vacation with the shop in the state it was, I took pictures of everything before I started cleaning and sent them all to the food safety agency, telling them that nothing had been cleaned for over a year. I also got to clock all the hours I spent cleaning, getting an ok from HQguy. Looking back now and seeing how little I was paid, I would have just not cared, but at the time I was afraid people would get sick and die from eating the food.

The next day I called the old owner and all the part timers asking them to meet at my place saying we needed a staff meeting without Bosslady and now was the chance. They all came and we started talking, telling me what Bosslady had done when they were working together and other things they had observed her doing. I took notes, and later that night I wrote a seven(!!) page document listing all the things we knew she did wrong, and how we suspected she was stealing money from the shop etc., and I emailed it directly to HQguy. He emailed me back saying he would look into it.

HQguy called me a few days later thanking me for notifying him about all the things she was doing, and told me that when the cash was registered the amount listed on the form and the amount in the pouches wasn’t the same, and asked me if I knew where it had gone. A light went off, and I realized the “savings” Bosslady had used to pay for her trip was actually money she had taken from the pouches, and that’s why she wouldn’t let us seal them. I told him as much and he said he would dig a little.

When Bosslady came back from vacation, she seemed very stressed. I acted like nothing had happened when she was gone, but chuckled when she opened the cash cabinet and saw that all the money was gone, and her face turned so white she was almost see through, but she said nothing. She was in the back most of the day on her phone and came out asking me if I could cover for her the next few days as she had to go to HQ for a last minute meeting (HQ was 8 hours away). I agreed and went home.

Over the next few days I was seething with excitement to find out what happened. When she came back she tried to play it cool and said “I’ve decided to quit. I feel like doing something different, so I’m just working until the end of the month, and then I’m leaving”, and I just acted sorry and oblivious. I knew the old owner was kept in the loop by HQ, and she told me what really happened.

Bosslady had met with HQ who had questioned her about the missing money and lack of cleaning etc. (there was more, but this is already longer than the Bible). She had denied it all at first, trying to pin it on of us, and saying she had suspected someone was stealing the money and that’s why she didn’t deposit it etc, but eventually broke down and admitted it all. She was then given the option of quitting and paying them back all the missing money in installments or having charges pressed against her. She obviously chose the former. Personally I would have pressed charges no matter what, but they wanted to help her out because I guess they understood she was in a bit of a tough situation with not making any money on the shop, and also didn’t want it blow up in the media.

I kept working there for a few more months, but quit because i found a job that paid more. Word spread about what Bosslady had done, so she really struggled to find a new job to pay what she owed, since no one trusted her. She eventually did, but had to pay them back for several years later. We did not keep in touch.

Guess she shouldn’t have lied about me to my coworkers.

And I’m all out of breath

TL;DR: shady boss lies to my coworkers about me being too hungover to cover their shifts, I tell HQ about all the shady stuff she’s doing and she loses her job and has to pay them back the money she stole for several years, and lost her good reputation.

(source) story by (/u/Dachshundsandwhisky)

[dreamsister81]

 Jeff and MI:

By age, you fit in the G.I.T generation, but you obviously are not one of them...

These facilities are a mystery to me. There they tell you only one thing: hurry up! This leads you nowhere, afterwards your own children run away from you. Through these trainings you get to know women, you get to know men, music is inoculated into people who have no feeling for it; then they can only scare other people or insult them...

I was in this terrible place too, by the way-G.I.T That was a complete waste of time, apart from the theoretical lessons and the friends that I had there. Otherwise: an absolute wrong decision.

How long have you studied there?

One year, the normal program. They give you tons of material, you have to absorb everything, you practice, you are tested and you go to the next course. An intensive support with development is simply not possible. I did so many things: theory, single string technique, jazz class, rock class, all sorts of genres. My friend John was teaching bass there, and he once said that there is not a single teacher at the institute who says to the students, "OK, you're learning all this stuff here now, you're learning how to entertain people and you're learning to learn. But do you even know that there is no one in the universe other than yourself who plays the music you play? " John left the school then. For me it was all a joke that cost me $ 3,900. People interested in music should take private lessons somewhere, start a band, do something with people who like them and have what it takes. These schools are a scene in their own right, a very small, secluded world-the music, on the other hand, is gigantic and open. If you don't notice it, you miss a lot of magic, pain, development...(thinks) and rock! Apart from Paul Gilbert, there was no one there who really rocked. Session musicians are bred there; and at the end of the year you get a piece of paper that says, "Now you have the skills to become a professional musician." Well, congratulations! And then you look for jobs and play what other people want. But that's not all the music, there's something else isn't there? Where's the music coming from? From your own head or stomach, or the concepts of the people you work for?-Gitarre & Bass, October,  1995

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I had a friend named John Humphrey. I went to this really crappy guitar school for a year, and he used to teach there, he was a bass teacher. And then he left, and we ended up being roommates later on, after I graduated. This is the kind of school where you give them a shitload of money in order to spend a year learning their curriculum.

What was it, G.I.T. (Guitar Institute of Technology in Los Angeles)?

Yeah, it was G.I.T.. They give you their curriculum, and it's not too comprehensive, but it's just enough, and then you can [snaps his fingers] move on to the next thing. And pretty soon you have all this shit inside you and then they give you this paper that says you have what it takes to be a professional musician.

It's a rock-oriented thing, isn't it?

In the end, I think, the only true product of that kind of learning is to get you gigs on the studio circuit and to get you gigs on the session guy circuit.

So, Lee Ritenour went there or something?

G.I.T. was started by Howard Roberts, the guy who played the wah-wah guitar on the theme to Shaft. And this other guy named Pat Hayes. I don't know. It just seemed like a racket, really. John said a lot of things to me that stuck in my mind. He said that there was nobody who stopped you, sat you in a room and said, okay, we have all these artists that you're learning the licks from, you have your guitar heroes, your virtuoso lust objects. But there's nobody who can make the kind of music you can make now except for you. And you can make it now. You don't even have to know how to go fast. And that makes all the sense to me in the world. It's also kind of an unseen process, that concept, originality. It's like that in all the education systems; there's never any real...identity education, self-generative identity art sort of thing, to be yourself. If everybody in Melbourne had a Wurlitzer organ and had the passion to sing something or make something, you'd have hundreds of thousands of different styles, if they were coming exactly from only their DNA, only their makeup, and their emotional percepts, their idea about what art is. You could have way-removed genres from what is already accepted, avante-garde country-rock-punk-folk-whatever. It's unlimited. But for some reason, the conventions always take over and there's a very ready and powerful formula to step into...

Those are the type of [formula-derived] players who can say, "Well, I was listening to the radio in 1967 and I heard the guitar solo in Jimi Hendrix's 'All Along the Watchtower,' and that guitar sound, that tone, would work perfectly for this television commercial."

Yeah. See? "Stealing from the greats, that's okay." That's right. Once I stopped in [at G.I.T.] years later, when I was on tour going through L.A., just to see what it was like. They've got a completely high-tech, multi-million dollar facility...

More so than when you had been there?

Way more. When I was there, it was just a ragtag bunch of teachers, and they had all left by then. They had video facilities and a class for stage moves and all kinds of things. And I saw this guy who was working the desk, the guy who watches the door. He had a bass on, and he was practicing his Nirvana chops! He was playing "In Bloom" on his bass, way up on his chest, jazz-fusion style, to the Nirvana song. I thought, oh shit--he was practicing his grunge riffs! He was getting his grunge down! Best fucking thing you can do, if you have the interest, is go to a private teacher, go someplace, some college, and learn theory. That was something I really enjoyed, actually, something that wasn't totally pointless. Theory meaning the meaning of the musical nomenclature. I was attracted to really interesting harmonies, stuff that I would hear in Ravel, Ellington, Bartok.-Double Take, February 29, 1996

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Once the site of a seakeasy and a bra factory, the 30,000-square-foot quarters were now the home of Musicians Institute, a vocational school for anyone who considered himself or herself a serious musician. With its wooden desks and chipped-tile hallways, MI resembled any other urban school, but at those desks, student guitarists and drummers studied scales and power chords in hopes of becoming the next Eddie Van Halen or Neil Peart, the flashy drummer with Rush. On their way to class each morning, flaxen-haired guitar gods in training could be spotted holding their guitars and practicing licks as they walked down Hollywood Boulevard.

Jeff had heard about Musicians Institute (and its subdivision, the Guitar Institute of Technology) while in high school and told everyone it was his one and only destination. However, potential superstardom did not run cheap. The school charged $4,000 for its one year course, and by the time Jeff Graduated from Loara High School, Mary Guibert was beginning to fall on hard financial times as she went in and out of jobs. In need of money for herself and her two sons, she prematurely broke into a $20,000 fund earmarked for Jeff, but only after he tured nineteen. Once Mary proved to the courtsthat Jeff needed it for his education, he and Mary received it a year early. In a deep irony, the father Jeff had barely met and increasingly resented would be paying his son's way through music school.

On graduation night, September 15, 1985, at the Odyssey in Granada Hills in the San Fernando Valley, Jeff, Stoll, and Marryatt closed the ceremony by playing Weather Report's "Pearl On the Half Shell."-from Dream Brother

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With its 30-odd thousand feet of floor space and row upon row of "labs", where hopeful guitar heroes could jam with such shit-hot players as Scott Henderson, LA's Musician's Institute must have seemed like nirvana for someone like Jeff Buckley, trapped as he was behind the Orange Curtain. According to his buddy Chris Dowd, that's exactly why Buckley enrolled there, arriving just before autumn, 1984, bankrolled by $4,000 that Mary managed to squeeze from a Tim Buckley trust fund.

Originally known as the Guitar Institute, which in itself says plenty, the school was opened in 1977. Drawing on the educational philosophy of journeyman guitarist Howard Roberts, it was co-founded and managed by Los Angeles music businessman Pat Hicks, "a real shyster opportunist", in the words of Tom Chang, an expat Canadian who would become very tight with Jeff Buckley during their two years at the Institute. In 1978, thr Bass Institute was opened, followed by the Percussion Institute two years later. Desppite Hicks' questionable business ethics-amongst other things, he'd hire students as cheap labour to do essential maintenance work on the building, which led to Buckley being hired as an electrician's assistant soon after graduating-he did manage to persuade well regarded players and bands to lecture, and play alongside, the hopefuls who'd enrolled there.

What Buckley lacked up in "front" he clearly made up for in ambition. That was proved, in spades, by Buckley's graduation performance which was played out on September 15, 1985, at a venue called the Odyssey in Granada Hills. While the sonic crush and enviable chops of Rush and Led Zeppelin still rocked the world of this Orange County teen, Buckley had also developed a real taste for such "noodlers" as Weather Report.

The number chosen by Buckley for graduation was their "D Flat Waltz" (not "Pearl On The Half-Shell", as documented elsewhere, which they'd performed at a previous event), a typically complicated few minutes of Weather Report neo-fusion-a "really cool piece, very involved", according to Tom Chang-and a standout from their 1983 set Domino Theory. But Buckley, accompanied by Stoll on drums and Marryatt on bass, didn't just play the piece, he also wrote the individual parts out beforehand for the band.-from A Pure Drop

MI pics by me

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #458

“i was unprepared for fame, then everybody knew my name”

What does your doormat say? I... actually am not sure. I don't pay any attention. What do you order from most sit down restaurants? Chicken tenders are my go-to safe option, ha ha. Or shrimp. Who was the last person you talked about love/relationships with? Sara. I wanted her advice. Where was the last place you thought about having sex, other than your bed? This was way too long ago, dude. Do you remember the last time you went against someone’s advice? Very recently. :x What day would you consider the best day of your life? Why? Idk, really. Would you say you’re too experienced or too unexperienced for your age? I am embarrassingly unexperienced. What is your favorite neon color? Ever buy nail polish that color? Hot pink. I don't care for nail polish. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? Uhhhh... What was the last charity/cause you donated to? Children With Hair Loss, when I cut a shitload of my hair off for the style I have now. Getting that certificate that my hair was used is to this day one of the warmest feelings I've ever experienced. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara. What is something you know very little about? Economics. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. I lost Jason. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, three of my siblings (all have since gotten remarried and are very happy<3), and I'm sure more distant relatives, too. Does your family go ‘all out’ during the holidays? No. How often in a year do you go to the mall to get new clothes? Pretty much never. Who was the last person to call you beautiful? What was your reaction? Someone on Facebook when I updated my profile pic, probably. I was very flattered, of course. As someone with a SHIT self-image, it means a lot to me. Do you ever get paranoid about who your significant other hangs out with? I'm single, but hypothetically, nope. Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who? Some, but only because they preferred it. I don't remember all of them, other than it was common in college. Do you blow-dry, towel-dry or air-dry your hair? Towel-dry and best I can first, then let it air-dry. Have you ever wanted to be in a band? ... One of the reasons I chose to go to actual school instead of homeschooling when I started HS was because I liked the thought of making actual friends and maybe being a guitarist if any wanted to start bands lmao. What is your favorite flavor of gum? Watermelon, probs. Are you a good leader? lol no Would you ever go bear hunting? I'm strictly opposed to hunting for sport, but even if I wasn't, I would NOT be going after bears. Have you ever picked flowers out of someone else’s garden without asking? Wow, no. Have you ever won money by entering a contest/raffle? No. Who is your favorite philosopher? I don't have one. What restaurant would you choose to go to for breakfast? I'm a v basic bitch and love me some Waffle House lmfao. How much money do you think you cost your parents? I. Don't. Want. To. Know. With so much medical stuff... holy shit. Do you eat any meat other than turkey on Thanksgiving? I eat spiral ham, because I don't like turkey in that form. Does your cat give you kitty kisses? Yes. :') Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Close, no. My mom was a close call, though... Her cancer was very, very close to being stage 4. Have you ever been to a waterpark? Yeah, as a kiddo. Describe the person you like/love in one word: Hilarious. Do you enjoy creative writing? Hell yeah man. If so, what things do you like writing about the most? Meerkats in a fantasy setting. Do you own any windchimes? Yes. Mom has one, I believe. Have you ever been known for something extremely negative? No. Would you say you’ve made a lot of people proud? Hell no. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone for over a year? Twice. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes? I think I've made that abundantly obvious in the past few surveys lmao. Does your birth name mean anything in another language or sense? It just means "of Britain." I wish my name had better meaning, lol. What is your favorite desert? THE KALAHARI because MEERKATS!!!!!!!!!!! :') Have you ever been called a good kisser? Well not directly, but no one's ever complained? Have you ever stepped on a bee? No. Who is your newest friend? Hmmm... I haven't made a new friend in a very long time. Tell me something about yourself that you don’t normally tell people. I'm an RPer. The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? That I wish I was NEARLY as hot as her lmao. What do you like about your birthday? We go out to eat wherever I want, yum. The person you’re thinking about - what are you thinking about them? That he needs to mESSAGE ME BACK Are you currently sick at all? No. Has anyone ever asked for your autograph? Er, no. What’s one subject that makes you feel uncomfortable? Sex. Who did you last send a friend request to? Idk. What candy makes your face pucker? None that I've tried. I handle sour treats very well. Do you believe that the number 13 is unlucky? No. Do you know any marines? Jason's dad was one. What’s your favorite Halloween movie? Hocus Pocus. :') Do you know anyone who does a lot of pills? I guess me, but they're prescription pills, and I don't abuse them. Mom has a lot, too. Who’s your favorite rapper? And your favorite song by this rapper? Eminem. Either "Love the Way You Lie" or "Space Bound." Has anyone ever made a promise to you that they’d change? Who? No. Have you ever had the cops called on you? For what? Nope. What race do you see the most in your neighborhood? African American. Have you ever walked in on someone accidentally while they were nude? No, I don't think so. Have you ever wanted to get your monroe pierced? Nah, it'd look weird on me. Do you own anything that involves Betty Boop? Nope. Can you remember the last song you listened to? Yeah; I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of Linkin Park's "Bleed It Out" right now. What is your favourite flavour of Skittles? The sour ones!! Red was always my favorite. Who taught you how to ride a bike? My dad. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Girt. Jason is a very close second, but Girt... he saw me at rock fucking bottom. He just showed up at the hospital unannounced after my suicide attempt (he knew because yay for writing a stupid fucking suicide note on Facebook) to help comfort me. He saw me dead to the fucking world and just done with everything. When’s the last time you were on the phone after 2 AM? Wow... probably not since a few days before the aforementioned suicide attempt and I called Jason's landline, desperate to talk to him. His mom picked up and talked to me for like two whole fucking hours. I'm tearing up pretty bad just remembering it, seeing as she's dead now... She cared for me so much. I miss her so, so much. Enough of this question, I'm about to start sobbing. :x What would you do if your best friend got an abortion? Honestly? Be relieved. I really don't think her body could handle pregnancy. What would you do if your father left your mother? That happened, and I hated him for years. What would you do if your bf/gf’s face became mutilated in an accident? Love them all the same. I don't care about appearances. What is the weirdest thing you have ever seen in your life? *shrug* Have you ever dated two different people with the same name? No. That would be so weird. What are you deathly afraid of? Pregnancy. Internal parasites. Which unborn babies technically are. Do you know anyone who’s addicted to drugs and, if so, are you friends with them? I know many potheads, and one I'm pretty close with. Have you ever owned a golf cart before and, if so, what color was it? No. Do you have a sibling who’s a complete deadbeat and, if so, which sibling is it? Definitely not. All my siblings are hard workers that have dreams and aspirations they're either working towards or have achieved. Do you own the new Guitar Hero and, if so, what’s your favorite song on it? I have no clue what the newest one is. My favorite song to play in any of the games though is The Eagles' "Hotel California." It just feels good to play, and the ending solo fuckin' slams. Have you ever done anything dangerous enough to have risked your life? An overdose on cold medicine. What was the most length you’ve ever cut off your hair and why did you cut it? 8+ inches because I no longer wanted long hair. Have you ever overcome a disease that was life-threatening and, if so, which one? No.

[whitehotharlots]

Liberal cruelty has consquences

This semester is winding down. As I am desperate to avoid grading student papers, I’ve spent the morning reading longish-form online articles. I just came across one that I feel very conflicted about. The online reaction to it as been troubling. So I don’t know if I have anything particularly coherent to say, but I’d like to talk about it.

The anonymously written piece is titled “What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt Right.”  It documents a young man’s journey from a garden variety, liberal-leaning goon to a frothing neo nazi mutant.

The piece is understandably sympathetic, seeing as it was written by the boy’s parent. The writer’s whiny and heavy handed tone caused me, and most of my e-pals, to dismiss it. If anything, the essay showcases an immense failure of parenting. If my child were to ask me to take him or her to a “Traditional American Culture” rally, I would slap the everloving shit of them. Lord knows how many times the kid’s parents had dropped the ball before it ever got to that point.

But then I re-read the start of the article, in which the parent identifies the trigger point for their son’s downward slide:

One morning during first period, a male friend of Sam’s mentioned a meme whose suggestive name was an inside joke between the two of them. Sam laughed. A girl at the table overheard their private conversation, misconstrued it as a sexual reference, and reported it as sexual harassment. Sam’s guidance counselor pulled him out of his next class and accused him of “breaking the law.” Before long, he was in the office of a male administrator who informed him that the exchange was “illegal,” hinted that the police were coming, and delivered him into the custody of the school’s resource officer. At the administrator’s instruction, that man ushered Sam into an empty room, handed him a blank sheet of paper, and instructed him to write a “statement of guilt.”

No one called me as this unfolded, even though Sam cried for about six hours straight as staff members parked him in vacant offices to keep him away from other students. When he stepped off the bus that afternoon and I asked why his eyes were so swollen, he informed me that he would probably be suspended, but possibly also expelled and arrested.

If Kafka were a middle-schooler today, this is the nightmare novel he would have written.

At a meeting two days later with my husband, Sam, and me, the administrator piled more accusations on top of the harassment charge—even implying, with undisguised hostility, that Sam and his friend were gay. He waved in front of us a statement from the girl at the table and insisted that Sam would need to defend himself against her claims if he wanted to prove his innocence. But the administrator refused to reveal the particulars of the complaint (he had also blacked out identifying details, FBI-style) and then hid the paperwork under a book. He declared that it was his primary duty, as a school official and as a father of daughters, to believe and to protect the girls under his care.

Eck… who edited this? It would have worked so much better without a fucking Kafka reference.

So, maybe it was the tone. I dunno. But most readers seem to regard this section as exaggerated, possibly fabricated.  The takeaway was “boo hoo, the nazi kid got punished for sexually harassing  a girl.” Heck: If a reader is truly dedicated to the #BelieveAllWomen mantra, then this description doesn’t warrant sympathy even if it’s entirely true. The kid said something that upset the girl. It wasn’t directed to her and it wasn’t about her. But still, he upset her, and she’s a girl, so he is bad and deserved whatever punishment was doled out to him.

And this got me thinking about my experiences in high school, as a student in the late 90s and a teacher in the mid-aughts. Administrators seemed to always be adopting some or other policy of harsh punishment for bad behavior: zero tolerance toward weapons, drugs, hats, disrespectful posture, electronic devices, swearing, Simpsons t-shirts, and mentally unhygenic reading materials. During dances and social gatherings, my middle school allowed students to bring in CDs from home. That was a decent policy, but anyone who attempted to play a “hip hop” track would receive an immediate suspension for “endorsing violence,” regardless of the track’s lyrical content. My high school adopted a firm anti-bullying policy, but once a boy came to school wearing a gothic dress as some kind of vague transgressive statement, and two separate male teachers called him a fag--out in the open, in front of everybody, as part of the official business of teaching.

Once, in 8th grade, two kids were caught taking over-the-counter caffeine pills. They didn’t get sick or anything; a girl saw them and she narced. They were arrested by the school resource officer, taken in a cop car to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped, and then summarily expelled, their young lives effectively ruined over 50 milligrams of a safe and legal stimulant. At an emergency assembly held the next day, the frog-faced principal croaked out a dire warning that the use of such drugs was strictly forbidden and we would all be subjected to the same fate, should we attempt to sneak in any No Doz. As he issued his stern warning, he slurped gluttonously from a 22-ounce mug of gas station coffee.

The point is, zero tolerance never really means zero tolerance. Rules are always--always, literally always, without exception in the whole of human history--enforced arbitrarily. Harsh policies rarely make anyone safer. They are employed instead to further humiliate and brutalize those who have already been rejected by the system. In my last two paragraphs, I cited the dumbest and most conspicuous examples of arbitrary cruelty that happened to pop into my head. This doesn’t cover the everyday, petty cruelties that teachers and administrators would exact upon kids they simply didn’t like. Without exception, these were the kids who were already marginalized: effeminate boys, masculine but unathletic girls, kids who dressed poorly, kids who spoke with accents, black kids, kids with learning disabilities or behavioral problems. These kids would be given detentions or even suspensions for minor infractions--looking away from the chalkboard, slouching, sneaking in candy, laughing at importune times, etc. It wasn’t the teacher’s fault, of course: zero tolerance and all that. But, strangely, the zero tolerance policies never seemed to apply to the popular, athletic, and/or well-connected kids. If Suzie Creamcheese was caught sneaking some Starburst during Algebra--well, she’s probably hungry, seeing as she works so hard. If Raul, Roofus, or Sheena were caught doing the same? God help them.

Some teachers were nicer than others, of course. Some were downright supportive. Others were simply evil. There was one, when I was in 7th grade, who was particularly repulsive and cruel--no kidding, his admiration of Rush Limbaugh was formative in my early-adopted hatred of American conservatives. He had matted red hair and teeth like a cracked picket fence and would wear a leather jacket out to lunch. Anyhow, he would prattle on about his hatred of kids who “Just. Refuse. To. Learn.” These kids were almost always black. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. He’d make a show of tossing them out of class--sometimes physically--for infractions as minor as getting an answer wrong when called upon. One time, a twitchy white kid who wore the same t-shirt every day called him out: It’s unfair, he said, that I’m getting thrown out of class for getting an answer wrong, when right before me another kid got several chances to respond.

The teacher turned beet red. He got on his knees and put his face two inches in front of the twitchy kid’s eyes. 

“I’m not throwing you out because you got the answer wrong,” he explained. “I’m throwing you out because you are you.”

Again, these are the conspicuous examples. The everyday stuff is harder to describe twenty-five years after it happened.  Most people were not brutalized and they didn’t have a single moment that ruined their life, but they were still exposed to a deeply unfair and cruel system, and such exposure naturally engenders feelings of betrayal, hopelessness, and anger.

Here’s my story--it’s particularly stupid. 9th grade. One day,  I walked into Spanish class, and the large woman who teaches in that classroom before my section grabbed me by the collar, physically lifted me out of my chair, and shoved her moist biscuit of a hand into my face. “What is this,” she demanded.

This was all very sudden. I could see nothing but her hand, which had a distinct fecal aroma.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She removed her hand. I looked down toward desk. She stood silently. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

“You’re gonna tell me what you did, right now, or I’m gonna double the detentions.”

I was still silent. Seriously, no idea what was going on. This enraged her. She began to count upward, starting at 3 detentions and stopping at 10, by which point tears were welling up and my face was flushed. I said I seriously did not know. She pointed to a small pentagram someone had engraved into the desktop. The desks, by the way, were movable. Anyone could have done it. She blamed me because she didn’t like me. I served 10 detentions and had to pay over a hundred dollars (a shitload of money for a 13-year-old) to get the desk refinished.

This isn't the end of the world, obviously. But it really, oddly broke me. Before, I had thought that so long as I did was I supposed to and didn’t break any rules, I’d be okay. Now I realized that was bullshit, that any vindictive cunt with a few ounces of power could punish me for any reason, at any time, and I wouldn’t be allowed to mount a defense. That’s the sort of thing that fucks with a kid’s head.  I mean, christ--it’s 23 years later and I’m still kinda pissed about it. I hope that woman is dead.

I regained a sense of control by stealing books from the woman’s classroom. A few times a week, I would grab a textbook when I came in, use it during class, and walk out with it. At the end of the school year, some friends and I burned them in a glorious bonfire along the banks of the Mississippi.

My response was petty and destructive, but I don’t feel any pengs of guilt or shame in remembering it. I had to do something to reassert agency, to feel like I had some control, and I managed to find a way to go about doing it that didn’t hurt anybody or get me into trouble. Regardless of the morality of my particular response, we can agree that kids are now much more surveilled than they were 20-odd years ago, and that minor mischief is now much more harshly criminalized. If a kid finds themself on the outs within their school, there’s really no way they can push back. Their only available avenue of asserting control over their lives is to wander into welcoming communities elsewhere…

One more anecdote then I’m done….

My sister was in high school during 9/11. The attacks were on a Tuesday, and the whole rest of the week was assemblies and talking circles and other such activities meant to assuage fear and gin up the hatred of the dirty brown bastards that done this. Two of my sister’s friends, older boys, were the sort of kids who read Howard Zinn and listened to Jello Biafra’s spoken word records. During one meeting, they expressed exasperation at a girl who was sobbing because she just, like, didn’t know why anyone would do that. The boys certainly didn’t approve of the attacks, but they tried to explain the whole concept of the US being an unhinged and murderous imperial power that had done much worse stuff all over the globe. The audience gasped. The boys were hauled into the principal’s office. They were charged with verbally assaulting the crying girl. One was suspended. The other expelled.

So, I dunno… go ahead. If you think due process is evil, that all victimhood claims are valid and should be taken at face value, and that kids of lesser social status should be demonized and made into criminals for upsetting members of the fair sex, then you do you. That’s fine if that’s what you believe. But please don’t be so naive as to think that the bulk of these newly criminalized behaviors are going to actually be malignant, or that the genuinely malignant behaviors of secure kids will be curbed in any way. Please respect yourself enough to realize that school admins aren’t magic sages with mature moral compasses--a plurality of them were business majors in college, for fuck’s sake. And most importantly, don’t be surprised if the kids you dismiss wind up doing some crazy or awful shit in response.