#& then lied for a year up until it came out recently that he was fired & no longer has a job

[pa-pa-plasma]

does anyone know if introducing AI into middle school classrooms as a teacher in Canada is a fireable offence or is my cousin extra super lying

[ladyempty]

"From fire and blood we were born. United we will burn"

° | !English is not my first language! | ° | pairing: Yan!Rhaenyra x Targ!Reader ° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life.

For Rhaenyra, being attached to you since birth was normal. You were born together, with Rhaenyra clinging tightly to your heel with no intention of breaking free or parting.

It was just his birthright above any title or throne. It was the other half of her soul, a life that had blossomed with her in her mother's womb and was destined to stay that way.

Together. united for an eternity that would extend beyond life and death.

This was how things should be, and she cared little about the laws of men or the condemnation of the seven. Dragon blood flowed through his veins. Proof of your rights.

In the early years, the princess' behavior was not seen with suspicious or malicious looks, she was just a sister wanting her company. What was wrong?

Even though it raised eyebrows every time the young princess became excessively irritated when you mentioned other ladies or had the opportunity to discuss matters deeper with them. Why did you need others? Rhaenyra was there, blood of her blood, with an infinite desire to listen to you.

King Viserys reassured the worried with soft, relaxed smiles and negligent behavior. He was blind to the situation unfolding in front of him.

Rhaenyra has always been obstinate and somewhat petty, her worst personality traits always came to the surface when the subject was related to you. Has another lady looked at you excessively? Rhaenyra would spare no bitter words or the cruelest lies her mind could come up with.

The princess also had no qualms or shame about skipping boring classes with the Septas or taking you out of your classes with the Miestres just to fly with you through the skies with her dragons or steal lemon cakes from the kitchen.

But when you want to teach her something or read some old book that has suddenly become very interesting, she never protests.

Sharing your attention, even with your parents, is out of the question. She's the only person you need to worry about.

And don't doubt your ability to be manipulative or play mind games. She will definitely cry and pout if you try to reprimand her behavior in any way.

How could you do this to your younger sister? She just cares so much about you!

Her behavior only gets worse as she enters adolescence • The hormones and feelings that arise, controlling your thoughts and actions.

She will certainly overhear and have conversations about courtship and knights in shining armor with other court ladies. Even though Rhaenyra found them all boring and annoyingly silly, the conversations about the other boys were interesting. • Every time one of the girls told, between laughs, something new she had done with a gentleman, Rhaenyra couldn't stop letting her thoughts wander. • What if it was her and you? • If it were her and you secretly exchanging kisses in the empty, forgotten corners of the fortress? • The feeling of tingling and restlessness in the belly. A heat that quickly rose through your body until your cheeks were red. • She knew these thoughts were not correct or appropriate. She knew of the Septas' countless boring monologues about purity, women's duty, etc.

The kind of thing she had never paid attention to before. But she found herself being terrorized and reflecting more and more in recent days.

The thoughts that haunted his dreams at dusk became more constant. With only the moon as a witness to his restlessness and confusion. • She just knew she needed you. She needed something that even she didn't know what it was. But it was running through his veins on instinct. • The girl suddenly became more demanding with your attention focused solely on her. She felt bitter and betrayed by any mere exchange of glances between you and any other woman or man. Lady or not. Lord or servant.

The Gods granted her such beautiful eyes for the sole purpose of looking at her alone. • She felt possessive and angry. With a growing pain, deadly and bitter, as fierce as if you were hers and had been unfaithful.

And when she heard whispers about the possibility of a marriage being arranged for you, She knew she couldn't keep her feelings quiet any longer.

No. She wouldn't sit by and watch you belong to someone less deserving.

I couldn't bear to see your other half give himself to someone other than her.

You were born to burn with her. And it was time for others to know this.

[haloberry]

Long post! HotGuy being a manipulative bitch, and theories behind it!

I got so many words for HotGuy in the latest DDVAU chapter, but something I kinda want to point out is that yes, he IS an asshole, it has a something behind it. Scar was Grian's coworker for years, and Grian had always been a reliable figure for Scar in civilian life. It was only recently where HotGuy got to know Grian, that Grian had showed a different side as a ACAB believer. HotGuy got to saw the 'real' version of Grian, showing, at least to him, that Grian will only listen to power.

Of course, we it's even more present in Mother Spore. Grian had let Scar go, but after realizing the fungus get destroyed by fire, with Grian's wings still there afterwards, Grian gets outed after hiding it for 32 years. Yet, Scar still cares for Grian.

It's fucked up, because he is manipulating Grian as HotGuy, but Scar cares for Grian and HG can't let that connection be made.

Scar was scared for Grian, Scar was hurt that Grian hid that, Scar felt regret for injuring Grian during the battle. But, Grian is the Grian he knew. The man that helped grade his student's homework is a man who was an unregistered mutant, and attacked the school under the influence of a mushroom. If Grian was a regular human like his registry said, the whole situation could've ended differently.

HotGuy needs information, and clearly HotGuy gets information that Scar doesn't. Beside being the head of the military, HotGuy got more out of Grian the Scar ever has.

HotGuy makes it a point to say he not impressed with Grian's secret, but Scar was wondering why he never noticed it. HotGuy's face was never shown again after the battle in pt3, the visor being filled in to make that distinction clear. He could've talked to Grian behind cell walls, but he cares. Though, between the job that gives him everything, compared to a friend who in his eyes lied to him? Well, a drastic emotion change seems on par. Of course, this doesn't make the HG better. He still blackmailed Grian, and was using society's social prejudices against the man who just got out of a fucking coma, but his job is more important. HotGuy was shocked when he learned the Spore moved towards Grian, as previously he thought Grian was the one controlling the spores. He had a suspicion, but nothing concrete until Grian came forward with information. Even the labs with Cub have nothing to go off of, and with Grian being the only one who could offer ANY clarity at all, Grian holds the key to solving the case.

Of course, HotGuy can't ever let Grian feel in control. He needs Grian to come forward with any information available, and doesn't want Grian to go off and ruin it. He needs Grian to be under him. So he lied to the public and said the wings were grown after the attack, and is using Grian's life long secret to make sure the other doesn't move from under him. It's horrendous, I hate that I love it. There is still so much we don't know, like if HotGuy knows Grian is also a witch or does he think it was part of the shrooms, or if HotGuy is putting the pieces together and thinking Grian is CuteGuy, but alas we must wait for the next chapter. :>

DDVAU MARYTN WOOD IF YOU CAN HEAR MEEEEEE!!

[unfriedough]

Hi super sorry if your request aren’t open.

I had this thought about Zuko x waterbending reader and maybe they could be related to Hama (like a grandma or something) and r basically it’s difficult to explain but Zuko and reader started dating after the war and he tries really hard to get Hamas approval because he’s from the fire nation and Hama ends up sorta accepting him but is still hella weary about him

‘Dinner’- Zuko x female!reader

An: HIYA! So as to not be annoying I’m leaving my lil disappearance explanation at the bottom, enjoy 🫶

(As usual, thank you for your request and patience it means a lot 💕)

Warnings: fighting/agression but it’s brief dw (this is also a very short piece)

You smiled as a candle flickered in your room, kicking your feet as you read a letter your boyfriend, Zuko, wrote to you. He detailed in it his most recent endeavours as a fire lord, as well as affirmed that he could in fact come for a visit. You had been planning to move to his palace soon, as per his request, but he was afraid your grandmother, Hama, a ruthless fire nation hating blood bender who might just hate Zuko, would not be on board. You decided the easiest way was to have them both over for food, and you’d prepared a huge feast of different delicacies of both nations. Zuko was meant to arrive in about an hour, and Hama was already down stairs washing up. She vaguely knew you were going to introduce her to someone, just not entirely aware of who. You shoved the scroll into another backpack you packed for your move, which was supposed to take place a week from now if all goes well.

You walked over to the window sill and sat on a cushion you placed on the protruding wooden part, sighing. You wandered in an endless maze of thoughts, until a face appeared in front of you. You squeaked, almost falling backwards but you caught yourself. Shaking your head, you unlocked the window and pulled zuko in.

“Dude?” You questioned, pulling him in for a hug.

He smelled like the sea, you noted, originally expecting the smell of a certain beast on him.

“Sorry- I got nervous,” you giggled, pinching his pouty cheeks.

He grinned, dipping you into a passionate kiss that screamed ‘I miss you’ in every language. His hand trailed to your back, and yours his hair. Just as things began to escalate, the door swung open.

“YN!”

Immediately, you pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards. Both your eyes landed on your grandma, who was as pale as a ghost.

“I can explain!”

“What kind of nonsense is this?”

Zuko was frozen, from the long list of things that could've gone wrong, this did not even make the top one hundred list.

“Grandma, this is Zuko,” you calmed down, “My boyfriend,”

He snapped out of his trance and extended an arm to shake with her. She walked out, leaving a small stone to prevent the door from closing again.

“Sorry about her,” you groaned, embarrassed that she left him hanging.

He retreated his arm, shoving it into his pocket, “She already thinks I suck. It’s over.”

“It’s okay she’s easy to win over,” you smiled sweetly, contrasting the lies that currently fled your lips.

Stiff, awkward, weird… all of the above.

You couldn’t relax for this dinner, things were so tense after what just happened. He didn’t even get to say hello before she saw his tongue down your throat and now she probably is a hair away from blood bending him into a ball. And he could tell she hated him- when he asked you to pass him a spoon she threw it at him. She missed…

“So, why don’t you tell her about yourself Zuko,” you broke the silence.

His eyes widened, suddenly being put on the spot, “Well I-uh-um-“ he coughed.

“He helped the avatar end a hundred year war,” you chimed in.

“Yeah so he can start a 200 year war all on his own,” she remarked, glaring at him. “All fire folks are the same,”

“Gram, give him a chance, he’s trying his best,” you held his hand over the table, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles.

Suddenly, a fork came hurling at you, and when you both dodged your hands away, you found it embedded in the table.

“Right…” you breathed out.

She stood up abruptly, folding her arms, “Yn, come outside, now,”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, looking back at Zuko with a worried expression.

You shut the creaky wooden door behind you and adjusted your garments as you stood by here on the patio.

“A fire nation boy?”

“He’s different… he’s not what you think he is,”

“That’s what they all say Yn, he’s bad news.”

“What about him is bad news?”

“Everything. Especially the fact that he’s a ticking time bomb.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you forgetting his past? He attacked the avatar!” Your eyes widened, “That’s right, I did my research… I know every little thing he did and so help me if you dare leave this house with him I will make sure that’s the last time either of you see each other.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears- it was one thing to ban you from seeing him, but a completely other thing to treat you like a child. You were old enough to make these decisions on your own. You huffed, storming back inside and waltzing into your bedroom, slamming the door with a lot of force.

Hama sat back down at the table, smiling before she flipped it onto Zuko. He gasped, standing up quickly to avoid being crushed. She stomped around the table and got up in his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong for her ancient age.

“What do you want from her?”

“To be with her,”

“Why?”

“Because I love her,”

“WHY?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?”

She pushed him onto the ground, lifting her arm as if about to bloodbend him. He’d heard the tales of what she was capable of from his friends, and he felt his heart drop.

Zuko froze, waiting, shielding himself and closing his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna firebend?” She asked, a bitter sounding tone.

“No.”

Just then, you exited your room, finally having collected your bearings. There, you found Zuko almost curled up on himself, and Hama glaring at him. He breathed heavily, and she looked as if a blood vessel was about to pop. You immediately rushed to his side, helping him up to his feet and checking him for wounds. He was fine of course.

Your hand brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes, humming, “I’m fine,”

“What did you do?” You yelled, looking at the old lady.

“I tested him.”

You laughed sarcastically, “And did he pass,”

“With flying colours,” 2 out of 3 pairs of eyebrows flew upwards, you and Zuko exchanged glances. “For now,”

After a bit of cleaning up, you finished the night with Zuko in your bedroom, sitting at your desk.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, leaning against the table.

“If she doesn’t even want me near you, how on Earth are you going to move in with me?”

“That’s… that’s a great question.”

An: OKAY SO idek where to start I basically obv got back to school and I had exams and then even MORE EXAMS coming up (send help) BUUUT I mainly just lost my spark and interest in writing but it feels wrong to continue to ignore my inbox so I’m gonna try my best to clear it soon. If you have requested I’m genuinely so so sorry it’s taken this long I’m sure you’re mad at me but hopefully not too mad don’t hate me okay bye love you 🩷

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not informing my pet's previous owner that he died?

I adopted a gecko off of Kijiji around a year ago. She had a different name when I adopted her but I ended up renaming her Fingergun when I adopted her. It was clear that her original owner cared about her quite a lot and after talking to her, I realized she was only rehoming because she was moving into university and couldn't bring Fingergun with her.

After I picked Fingergun up, her owner messaged asking how she was settling in and I sent her some pictures and said she was doing well with some specifics on her behaviour. Over the next week, her owner messaged every day or two for updates. I was happy to provide them, especially since it was obvious that Fingergun was very loved and cared for. I rescue and rehabilite reptiles fairly frequently (Not as an official rescue, just over Kijiji or Facebook Marketplace, sometimes partnering with official rescues) so it's rare for me to see somebody in as good condition as Fingergun. It's important to note that I got Fingergun for myself, not as a rescue/rehab case (Which I usually rehome or pass on to some rescues I partner with when I can).

Over the next few months the requests for updates kept coming but less and less frequently until around three months ago before Fingergun died, when they stopped completely. I expected that her owner had moved on and I didn't want to send unsolicited updates in case I jeopardized the healing process or annoyed her or something.

Well, around three months ago I had a house fire due to entirely unpreventable causes. I wasn't home and was honestly devastated when I found out. I lost Fingergun and one of my cats (I was at the vet with two new rescues and had just dropped the other cat at the groomers when it happened).

Although I only had her for a year, I really loved Fingergun. I handled her every day and we were working on some minimal training.

The whole issue here came up only recently, about a week ago.

Because there hadn't been any more messages from Fingergun's original owner, I decided not to tell her what had happened. I didn't see any reason to upset her out of the blue, especially when I know it was mid-exams for her uni and I hadn't heard from her in months. I honestly thought the update requests had stopped until she messaged a week ago, asking how Fingergun was doing.

I was honest and told her what had happened. I also sent her a couple pictures of Fingergun from the day before. She was silent for a day or so before she responded and essentially asked why I kept it from her/didn't tell her sooner and insinuating that the fire didn't happen/I made it up to cover something up.

I haven't responded yet since I'm still busy dealing with the insurance and stuff from the fire and I'm honestly at a bit of a loss here. I'm not good with people, there's a reason I refer my critters, but am I the asshole here? Should I have told her when it happened or even just lied and told her everything was fine when she asked?

[damthosefandoms]

my life has changed in oh so many ways

(ao3 link)

Summary:

"You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who've picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

"It just ain't fair you never got any help!"

“You told me you wanted to be a teacher here when you grow up, Sodapop. But if you want to be a teacher you have to work! What do you think would happen if I came to school everyday and did nothing?”

“I ‘unno.”

“I’d get fired! So if I were you, I’d pick up that pencil and start writing.”

Soda puts his head down on his desk and cries. His teacher just sighs and walks away. She’s giving up on him just like everyone else.

He’s a lost cause.

He just wanted help.

Soda slams the door to their dad’s old truck and tries to control his breathing. He waits for Darry to drive off, to drop Ponyboy at the middle school, where their genius little brother only has one month left of seventh grade. Soda has what feels like centuries left of tenth; but the piece of paper hidden in his sorry excuse for a backpack will change that.

Steve jogs up to him and goes, “You remember it today?”

“I shoved it under my pillow and couldn’t sleep all night ‘cause of it. Yeah, I remembered it.”

“They gonna take it covered in drool?”

Soda swings at him, but Steve just dodges and switches to walk on his other side. They pause in front of the doors, so Soda can get the withdrawal form out.

The main entrance to Will Rogers High School is intimidating, but not as intimidating as what lies beyond the doors. Most kids—greasers and socs alike—don’t give it a second thought as they walk in every morning, but Sodapop Curtis isn’t most kids, and the paper in his hand proves it.

He’s never even driven by this place without wanting to throw up.

“Seriously, man. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. I know Darry’ll kill you, but we talked about this, we all got your back and Two-Bit or me are gonna drive ya to school every day and you can just walk to the DX for work, say you’re working just part time every afternoon now, he’ll never—”

“It ain’t Darry I’m worried about. He’ll be mad as the day is long, I don’t give a damn. Dad gave the okay, it ain’t up to Darrel at all. Never was. But Pony’s gonna take it hard and I can’t stand that.”

Soda gives it three classes before he feels sick to his stomach. He’s got the form folded up in the pocket of his dad’s favorite flannel, the same one he’s worn practically every day since the accident. Darry’s always getting on him about giving it a rest and wearing something else—“Everyone knows we’re poor! No need to make them think we don’t wash our damn clothes!”—but to Soda it’s like a security blanket. It’s also one the few shirts he has that don’t make him want to rip his skin off while wearing it. And, you know, his dad always cut the tags off.

He doesn’t even ask his history teacher to let him use the bathroom, just gets up and leaves. He’s told to sit down but he doesn’t because he’s a greaser and nobody expects obedience from him, anyway. He doesn’t look back as he walks out, just reaches into his pocket and takes out the form. It’s the only piece of paper he’s ever put in there without crumpling. He absent-mindedly hums a little tune while he walks—“Help!” by the Beatles, which is one of his favorite songs. It’s a few years old but he heard it on the radio again recently and it’s catchy, not that he could ever admit that to any of his east side buddies—and he unfolds the form. He wants to read through it one more time before he hands it in.

He knows what it says in theory, but there’s so many words on there, and the font is so small that his eyes kind of glaze over, but he keeps his eyes glued to the page while he walks.

Until he collides with something and it flies out of his hands. He looks up and there’s a girl in front of him—ohgodit’sCherry—and he immediately goes to help her up. She looks at him for a second, eyes wide and he thinks maybe her cheeks might be as red as his are her hair, but she ignores his hand, so instead he goes to pick up her books for her.

“Sorry,” Soda mumbles, somehow briefly forgetting that he’s not supposed to be saying stuff like that to soc girls, he’s got a reputation to uphold, but glory, his Mama taught him manners and he’d be damned if he didn’t use them. And deep down he knows Cherry isn’t like the other soc girls because she was nice to him once in first grade and he’s never ever forgotten it.

He nearly shudders at the memory. The words “consonant digraph” are not ones he remembers anymore, all these years later, but way, way back when he was learning them he wanted to cry at the mention of it.

He’s brought back to first grade. It’s sometime in the beginning half of the year, and they’re doing some cut-and-glue activity with partners. He’s been paired with Sherri Valance because he’s always paired with her. They sit next to each other because their class sits in alphabetical order by first name, and they always do partner work with their neighbors.

There’s muffled yelling down the hall and another first-grade teacher pokes her head in and asks for backup, ‘cause one of her problem students is throwing chairs. Their teacher tells them she’ll be right back and heads out. Soda hears somebody who wasn’t in his class last year mutter to their friend, “Dallas, probably.” They see the principal speed-walking down the hall through the doorway, and then everyone loses interest and starts to get to work.

Sherri taps Soda on the shoulder.

“Can you write our names for me?” she says. “I’m going to go get scissors and stuff.”

She gets up and Soda looks at her nametag. He takes a whole minute to decode it. Sherri.

Goddamn digraphs. /sh/ and /ch/ are his worst enemies lately, and she’s got one of them in her name. He knows it’s real sad that he can barely tell which one. He feels butterflies in his stomach as he picks up his pencil. In the best possible handwriting he can muster up—writes her name. He is pretty sure he wrote it correctly, tries to read it aloud, and thinks he’s doing well until one of the kids at the desk pair behind him, Randy Adderson, laughs.

“What’d you just say?”

Soda is starting to understand now why Darry keeps telling him to stay away from the kids with the nice backpacks and brand-name shoes.

“You’re copying off her nametag and you still spelled it wrong?” Randy sneers, and his friend Bob Sheldon looks over too, and starts to grin. Soda’s butterflies turn into rocks.

“I just wrote her name. Sherri.”

But his mouth does that thing again where the word doesn’t sound quite right coming out of his mouth as it did in his head and he can feel his cheeks heating up. That always happens. Bob and Randy and their friends always make fun of him for it, too. He tries to make out the letters he wrote on the paper.

He did write a y instead of an i. And his S is kinda weird-looking, too.

Oh. He didn’t mean to do that. His pencil must’ve moved on its own again like it always does when his brain gets jumbled.

“Cherry, you said Cherry! Her name is Sherri! An’ I think you wrote it too, but who knows, I can’t read that at all!” Bob jeers at him loudly, and the whole class is starting to look over. Chet Baker, the kid who mentioned Dallas earlier, is laughing too, and he whispers something into the ear of his partner. Soon everyone is staring at him, and Soda feels like sinking into the floor. Bob revels in the glory of it all.

“Leave it to dumb ol’ Sodapop to mess it all up!”

The classroom explodes into laughter, like that was the greatest insult of all time and not some lame comment from little kid.

“I like it, actually,” a voice says suddenly and Soda thinks for a second it’s an angel come down to earth. But it’s just Sherri, and she’s handing Soda a glue stick.

“Cherry. I love that. It’s going to be my new nickname.”

She elbows him gently and smiles at him. Her eyes are so green. Soda thinks green eyes are his favorite; Cherry has green eyes, and so do both of his brothers and his dad. That’s almost all of his favorite people on Earth, except for his mom. Her eyes are brown, like his own.

“I really like it, Soda.”

He really likes it too. Soda wishes he could’ve stayed in first grade forever, sometimes, because back then Cherry always stood up for him and now…

Now they’re sixteen and when he goes to hand Cherry her books, she seems to come back to reality. Her face contorts into something angry, or maybe more defensive, as she snaps, “I don’t need your help, grease. Helping me pick up my books like some wannabe-gentleman… don’t you have a girl, anyway?”

He does. Sandy’s somewhere one floor up in English right now reading some Shakespearean tragedy about star-crossed lovers, and he hasn’t told her he’s dropping out yet, either. He loves—really loves—three people left in the world, two of them are his brothers and one, he thinks, is Sandy, and they’re the only ones of the people he really cares about that he hasn’t told about his plan.

Now that his parents are dead, they’re the only people left he’s truly terrified of disappointing. They’re the only people he ever talk to about his problems.

The only people he felt he could ever ask for help. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t anymore.

So why does it bother him so much when he has to ask Cherry Valance to move her foot because she's standing on a paper that might honestly be his lifeline?

He points it out to her and she goes, “Oh,” and picks it up for him. Even brushes the dust off. Soda watches her eyes scan the top of the paper before his face turns even more red and he has to rip it from her hand.

“You didn’t see shit, soc,” he snaps, and maybe it’s mean and out of character for the ever-so-charming Sodapop Curtis that is known to walk these halls, but he’s embarrassed. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut at the face Cherry’s making and his stomach somehow hurts even more.

Not hurts. He’s got butterflies.

He’s in love with Sandy though, and she loves him back, and who gives a damn if he’s been practically ignoring Cherry for a decade now. Who gives a damn if she was the only person from the entire west side of Tulsa to show up at his parents’ funeral. She’s always gone to their church and it was right after the regular Sunday morning service and it doesn’t mean shit. Even if he didn’t have a box under his bed he’s been filling with cash for a ring to marry Sandy one day, Cherry wouldn’t matter, because she’s a soc and he’s a greaser and he might not be in even the average level English class like Sandy is, but Soda asked his mom about it once back when Darry was in sophomore year and was reading it and so he knows how Romeo & Juliet ends.

Soda’s in love with Sandy. She loves him back. He flips the collar of his flannel up because he’s a greaser and he’s gotta look tuff or tough or whatever and keeps walking.

“Sodapop!” Cherry calls, and he shouldn’t turn around but there’s classes going on right now and no one’s watching them.

“What?”

“I just—you aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who’ve picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

“School just ain’t going to be the same without you brightening up everyone’s day, Soda,” Cherry calls after him, but he pushes through the door to the stairwell and pretends her words aren’t eating him alive.

“It just ain’t fair you never got any help!”

He wanted to be a teacher once. So did his mom, once upon a time, that meant college, and she had no money and had a baby at eighteen, so she never even had a shot of working in a daycare. And Soda’s dumb and nobody wants a dumb teacher, so he’s never going to be able to make a difference in the lives of kids like him.

Cherry’s right, he never got any help. That’s why he wanted to be the one to help the next generation. But it’s not going to happen.

She stood up for him once. She used to check his work for him before he handed it in. She would whisper-read when they were supposed to be reading silently so he’d understand the passage. They just can’t talk about it anymore because they grew up.

There aren’t many things he’ll miss about Will Rogers High School, but Cherry Valance is admittedly going to be one of them.

Another thing he won’t miss—the grouchy secretary he’s got to hand in the form to. When he gets to the office she gives him a nasty look that just screams get back to class, hood! or maybe something more along the lines of what’s this idiot doing here? He blow in on the way to stupid town?

…Maybe it’s an oh great, another greasy little troublemaker sent to the office.

Clearly that’s the right one, because the first thing she says is “What’d you do? I ain’t gotten a call up or nothin’.”

“I have this withdrawal form to hand in. I talked to our case worker with social services, she says she confirmed with you guys here that my dad’s signature should still be good enough even though he…?”

She swipes the form out of his hands and glances over it. “I’ll have the principal look at it. Get back to class.”

Soda turns, fully intent on finding his backpack and then walking out a side door somewhere instead, and he’s still going to—but just as he’s walking out someone calls his name. He looks back over his shoulder and the principal has stepped out of his office.

“Mr. Curtis, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and Soda nods, just hoping it’s not to do with that form.

He’s handed an envelope, but it’s not for him.

To the Parent/Guardian of Ponyboy Michael Curtis, it says on the front. Soda’s confused.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s an intake form for high school.”

“Pony’s in seventh grade. There’s a month left of school.”

“Yes, and his test scores are like nothing we’ve ever seen. He’s going to be coming here next year.”

“He’s in seventh grade. Sir, he never even hands in his homework on time! How’s he jumping ahead to ninth?”

“Mr. Curtis, please, just deliver that letter, would you? Saves me the trouble of having to mail it myself. Glory knows you of all people should understand not wanting to waste money on a stamp.”

The butterflies in Soda’s stomach from earlier turn to rocks and he feels like he’s being weighed down again. “I understand just fine, sir.”

He walks back to class, grabs his backpack and walks all the way home.

That night Darry talks about throwing a party for their little brother and Soda has to grin and bear it, because he’s honestly jealous as all hell. He’ll never admit it, though, because he’s as jealous as he is proud of Ponyboy.

But now he’s never going to be able to tell them he dropped out.

Not when Pony’s immediate reaction to the letter is “I get to go school with Soda next year?”

(He then adds, “and Johnny?” but Soda missed that part because he was too busy wallowing in his own guilt.)

Ponyboy’s going to hate this, he thinks the world and more of Soda and he’ll probably find a way to blame Darry for it. But it’s not Darry’s fault, it isn’t their parents’ fault or anybody’s except Soda’s brain for not working like it should. He thinks if his brothers fight tonight he’ll either lose it and kill them both or never stop crying, so he doesn’t tell them that night.

He doesn’t tell them for a month, not until it’s the last week of school and it’s pouring rain and Darry’s roofing job gets canceled for the day. He comes home early to find Soda sitting on the couch watching cartoons because it’s too early to head out to the DX. The clothes he left the house in that morning for school are drying on the radiator and Soda’s nose is red and Darry has to put the worry he’s going to get sick from walking home in the rain aside.

Ponyboy thinks Darry didn’t yell at Soda for dropping out. Well, he wasn’t home for the fallout.

For the “I know school is hard for you. If you really needed a day off, little buddy, you coulda told me instead of skipping. I’ll go call the school now and say you’re sick.”

And the “Sodapop Patrick, what the hell do they mean you ain’t been enrolled at Will Rogers for a month now?”

Or the horrible silence as Darry has to drive Soda to the DX for work in the pouring rain just so whatever cold he definitely caught that morning won’t get worse before it even starts.

No, Ponyboy won’t find out about any of it until he’s back to school shopping in August and jokingly asks Soda if he’s throwing in the towel this year because he’s not buying anything, and Soda casually tells him he’s not going back to school. That working full time at the DX over the summer wasn’t just a summer thing. It doesn’t go over well.

Darry carpools to work on the first day of Pony’s freshman year, because Soda practically begged him to let him have the truck to bring Pony to school alone that morning. Normally the kid would’ve walked, but Soda knows how big of a day this is, and their mom used to always make sure they didn’t have to walk on the first day, not even to the bus stop when they were in grammar school.

They pull up to the curb by the front doors and Soda can see Steve and Two-Bit and Johnny waiting for Ponyboy. He really appreciates Johnny for that. He never goes anywhere in the school that socs go unless there’s a teacher in the room, after he got jumped at the end of the last school year.

It figures he’d show up for Ponyboy, though. If Johnny isn’t with Dally—who’s not there because he got locked up after taking the blame for busting out a bunch of school windows last year even though Two-Bit did that—he’s with Ponyboy. They’re just close like that.

(Actually, Soda’s pretty sure Dally got himself arrested either because he’s simply self-destructive, or so he wouldn’t give himself a chance to kill anybody for what happened to Johnny, but that’s not really the point.)

Soda turns off the engine of the truck and turns to his brother.

“You ready?”

Ponyboy shrugs. He’s chewing on his thumbnail, a nervous habit the three brothers share. Soda gently pushes his arm down, getting Pony’s hand away from his mouth.

“You’re gonna do great, Pony. You might be young but you’re smarter than everybody in there. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

“You know Darry.”

“Darry’s Darry. He’s smart but he’s like—perfect, yknow? He don’t count. And he an’ I both reckon you’re smarter than he’ll ever be. You’re goin’ places, Pony. Really, truly going places. We both know it. You’re on your way up in the world, you’re gonna go so far.”

“People said that about Darry. Look at him now. He’s just a college dro—” Ponyboy cuts himself off and Soda knows why.

“Show ‘em what for, Pony,” he says. “Show ‘em what us Curtises are really made of, okay? Darry gave up his chance for us, but…if anybody’s gonna make it outta this place it’s gonna be you.”

Because Ponyboy was made great things, and Soda wasn’t, and he might still be jealous but his baby brother is going to kick ass in high school.

Soda hugs him and Pony gets out of the truck, and as he starts to walk away, Soda rolls the window down and he calls out:

“Hey, Pony, if you meet a girl named Cherry, tell her I said hi!”

Pony rolls his eyes and waves. Soda laughs to himself as he drives off.

Ponyboy Curtis, talking to a soc girl. Imagine that.

He’s too busy laughing at his own joke to notice Sandy on the sidewalk as he drives past, heading up the steps into the school practically hand-in-hand with a guy who isn’t him.

He does see a girl with auburn hair walking up to school, frowning, and Bob Sheldon’s got an arm around her.

“Great job, Soda! Mrs. Larkin, look how good Sodapop’s doing! He nearly finished the whole worksheet and didn’t give up once!”

“You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else.”

Soda turns the radio on. “All You Need Is Love” blasts through the speakers. The truck’s windows are down as he heads for the exit of the school’s parking lot.

One head turns.

But Sandy doesn’t like the Beatles.

[specterllaw]

F@cking the boss - Harvey Specter x Reader Part 1/2

Summary: After being interviewed for a job offer that was meant for your roommate you meet a fascinating boss who sees right through all of your lies

You sighed as you approached your apartment door, it was painted a dull faded orange that now looked like someone had been smoking in the halls for years, you sorted through the stack of mail you grabbed on your way into the building. All of it was bills or advertisements until you got to a thin envelope, it was addressed to your roommate but it came from a big law firm in Upstate Manhattan. Pearson and Hardman, you had seen their commercials way too many times. Curious you ripped opened the paper envelope, flipping open the folded paper inside seeing an invitation to interview as a new assistant for one of their senior associates. You smirked a bit walking inside as you shut your apartment door and plopped down on the couch, grabbing your bowl of weed from the table smoking it gone before going to your room to find clothes for the interview. See normally you’d never open your roommates mail, but recently she had taken it open herself to open her legs to your boyfriend and get you fired from your shared job, so you felt like you deserved this.

Monday morning

You gulped nervous pushing open the hotel door and walking farther into the conference rooms trying to figure out where the hell this meeting was being held, until you saw the giant sign, ‘PEARSON AND HARDMAN LAW FIRM INTERVIEW NEXT DOOR ON THE RIGHT’. You took a deep breath hoping for it to give you some confidence as you walked through the door looking at all of the other females who were waiting, they all matched the type of your roommate, blonde hair, big boobs, and mini skirts. You felt like you were dressed too professional as you walked up to the desk “excuse me?..is this the interviews for the law firm?” You asked politely to the woman sitting at the desk “yes, yes it is, go down that hallway to the left and you’ll meet with Mr. Specter” she said pointing down a short hallway. You felt like the ground was shaking under your feet as you made your way to the makeshift office that had a well dressed man sitting behind the desk looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Who are you?” He asked tilting his head up towards you like he was better than you in a sense. "My name is Y/n L/n, I'm here for the..assistant position?" You offered as you took a seat in front of him, he watched you closely "Everybody is, darling, what makes you so special?" He asked crossing his arms "I'm determined in my work, I have no boyfriend, no kids, and I'm looking for a good job to get my foot in the door to becoming the best lawyer in New York" You said stubbornly eyeing him in the same manner he was to you, you knew what he was doing, intimidation. "...okay" He said unsure "What do you have experience with?"

Next Monday

You were in complete shock, you were on your way to walk to the law firm when a car had stopped in front of your path, you stopped getting your pepper spray out and ready before the window rolled down revealing Harvey Specter sitting in the back "You think I would let my new secretary walk to work? No Princess, in the car" He demanded as you stuttered rushing to the other door sliding into the seat. "Listen. Today's gonna be alot, Y/n, You'll be meeting my former assistant and who's retiring after today, you'll meet Louis Litt, jackass on a stick, he threatens or tries to flirt you tell me got it?" You nodded "You'll meet Mike Ross, my hired associate, you'll also answer to him partially under my word and he'll answer to you." After Harvey got done briefing you, You were trained by a pregnant woman named Donna, had a meeting with Jessica Pearson, a meeting with Louis Litt, and Mike Ross. Now you were being motioned in by Harvey who was sitting at his desk, his suit jacket sitting on his chair as he watched you, he looked hot as hell, and you knew you were shamelessly checking him out, unknown to you he was doing the same thing.

You took a seat in front of him as he offered you a soft smile "Hey, How's your first day?" He asked raising an eyebrow "I-It's good..I'm enjoying it so far..Louis was very...stern though" You mumbled, he raised his eyebrows "Nothing over the line, right? You're alright?" He asked, "I'm fine, Mr. Specter, I'm a big girl" You stated nervously, you knew you had been lying to Harvey since the interview, you were not qualified to work for Pearson-Hardman and you weren't anything like his past receptionist. "Well, I'm heading out for the night, care for a drink?" He offered standing up, grabbing his jacket and files "U-Um actually, I've gotta get back home" Truth was, you had to meet your dealer to get your next bag of weed. "Great, We'll drink there" He said quickly, you could tell he wasn't going to let go of the topic and Donna did warn you, Harvey liked to get close with his receptionists, they were like brother and sister. You huffed going to grab your coat and bag as Harvey called for the elevator, You followed behind eyeing him up and down any chance you got.

As you entered your apartment you realized your dealer had already been there, there was a bag of pre-rolled's on your coffee table. You were quick to dive for the bag grabbing it as Harvey walked in, watching you in confusion "Hiding something?" He asked raising an eyebrow "N-No" You protested crossing your arms, hiding the bag of joints under your arm. He tilted his head walking closer, if he was anybody different you probably would've pepper sprayed his ass, but he was hot and a damn good lawyer. "You know, Y/n..Wanna know something funny about me?" He asked as he stalked closer to you, you looked him in the eyes as you slowly shuffled back towards the wall keeping the bag tightly tucked in-between your arm and chest. "Hmm?" You asked before bumping into the wall, watching as Harvey took slow, agonizing steps towards you until you felt his breath on your face "I know when people are lying...and I know you're lying about a lot of stuff" He said quietly, not breaking eye contact with you, narrowing your eyes you put a hand on his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Specter" You offered raising your eyebrows. He slammed his hand against the wall by your head almost making your knees give out and you fall to the floor, Harvey was huffing and you were trying to even your breathing from how hot he was currently "What're you hiding, Y/n" He asked alot more sternly, your arms dropped in defeat, the bag falling to the floor in between your feet and Harvey's. He smirked kneeling down as he picked up the bag with two fingers dangling it infront of your face. "Nothing was it?" He asked again, his tone was antagonizing, like he was teasing you. "Nothing at all" You proposed as he raised his eyebrows leaning closer before pulling one of your joints out, putting it between his lips, lighting it, all before blowing the smoke into your face. "Seems like a pretty good something to me, you get this from Mike?" He asked, your mouth dropped in shocked "That is Mike!" You gasped as he watched you, placing the joint between your lips he smirked "Inhale" He whispered as you took a hit, you inhaled then exhaled before slowly moving to the couch, Harvey close behind.

Your joint bag was gone, you and Harvey had smoked the entire thing and were now stoned off your asses, laying naked in your bed recovering from the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had. "You just ate an entire bag of pretzels how do you not have cotton mouth?" You asked in disbelief, he just laughed rolling on his back, you could see his bare chest and stomach as the sheet started to fall down around his waist. "I'm Harvey Specter I don't get cotton mouff" He stated before laughing as he made eye contact with you "Mouff? Harvey Specter does too get cotton mouff!" You laughed as you handed him your water bottle looking at him as he took a huge gulp. This was a different side of Harvey, one that laughed, that hugged, that cared.

"Harvey?.." You asked after the two of you stopped laughing "Yes?.." He asked turning towards you, draping a hand over your bare waist "Do you sleep with all of your receptionists?" You asked quietly, you could feel his fingers brushing up and down your side as he looked at you "Do you lie and fuck all of your bosses?" He challenged, you raised your eyebrows slapping his chest "ow! I'm kidding!" He laughed "No...I don't..I'm stoned, but, I know you're a sweet woman, who is already amazing at a job she was never qualified for" He stated, you studied his face, watching his breathing. He was truly the most Handsome man you've ever seen.

"Am I fired?" You asked playing with his hair slowly "No...I like you too much to let you go, and it's hard to find a lady to boss me around while also following my orders" He stated kissing your forehead before you tucked your head against his chest dozing off.

[eugenedebs1920]

On the eve of America appointing its first king let’s take some time to reflect. Reflect on history from both long ago, and that which is more recent. Peer backward from where we came, we can not go back there, and tomorrow is uncertain, yet somehow strangely familiar.

There’s a phrase the mainstream media likes to use. Trumpnesia. Some mental health experts suggest that as a collective whole much of society’s memories from the pandemic, 2020, and generally the chaos and sh*tshow the first Trump administration was, have been forgotten, hazed over, spotty.

I would assume many who voted in this election were unable to in 2016, their attention focused on much more simple, enjoyable aspects of life.

Honestly, my recollection is subject to rolling brownouts regarding the Trump years. To be completely truthful, I was a savage, and I mean SAVAGE whiskey enthusiast and imbiber during that particular period of this train wreck I perceive as existence. Which may have contributed to the fogginess by its own accord. Nonetheless, there’s more I remember than I’d like.

Every day it was some ridiculous sh*t. Every day it was Trump’s obnoxious voice, or an all caps tweet, dodging accountability, blatantly lying, immaturely insulting, pathetically justifying corruption, every day just cringe worthy embarrassing behavior on the would stage, out there for all to see. It was humiliating!

It was like, have you ever rode in a vehicle where someone refuses to buckle their seatbelt? Despite the “friendly” and relentless coaxing from the safety feature of said vehicle asking them to do so? Just a nonstop, endless, mind piercing, fury stoking, twitch inducing, ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding, till you’re at the point where your most attractive option is to drive the vehicle off a bridge to your seductive looking watery grave, rip your hair out and punch yourself in the dick to experience something less agitating, or unabashedly berate and howl at your fellow rider, informing them that whether or not they agree with the act, that siren song of a security alarm will not cease until they buckle their f*ckin seatbelt.

Like your neighbor forever using a gas powered leaf blower, day in, and day out, from sunup to sundown, even after the sun has ventured from the east in its determined pursuit to scorch the earth below it, until, in the western horizon it sinks, slumbering to recuperate in preparation to do it all over again. Like being in a house under construction with multiple wood trades, running multiple compressors, seemingly timed to where there is not a single moment of serenity, stillness or silence.

You know? Maybe there were external factors that encouraged my excessive enjoyment of the beautiful, sharp, warm, brown liquor. That which puts out the fire but keeps in the warmth. Whiskey. Mmmmmmmmm.

I digress, and may need a drink.

The utter perturbation one experienced before consuming the news. The dismay at the conduct conducted. The oblivious disgrace brought to the highest office in the land, a once honorable title now in possession of a reality tv personality who fooled half the country into thinking he was even remotely competent or worthy. The shame in the fact that this was a representation of you, your country, and your fellow citizens.

Who the f*ck had the dishonest audacity to, with no hint of humor or irony, declare a lies “alternative facts”!? It’s staggering!

That was every day. This is before the pandemic!

For f*cks sake! The pandemic?! What a disaster! I mean… You could see the frustration, concern and puzzlement of these experts, doctors, and scientists, as Trump would undoubtedly voice his highly unqualified and childish opinion on the subject. His narcissism overriding his ability to allow folks who dedicated their entire adult life to complex sciences to explain and inform the population. I felt bad for them.

What a nightmare! Intense, all encompassing humiliation. A recurring, spiteful, patronizing stale joke. Some darker, irritating and moronic sequel to Groundhog Day.

Well. Here we go again. Only this time spiked with retribution. This time schemed upon for years. This time validated and emboldened by his “reelection” and the absolute immunity bestowed to him by a compromised Supreme Court in all its self righteous perceived wisdom. This time carried out by a far more vindictive, hateful and degrading man.

I keep telling people, this is going to get worse before it gets better. So unlike that jackass who somehow is impervious to the insufferable seat belt alarm. Buckle up.

[ukrainenews]

(This situation is very much a developing thing and there's a lot of conflicting and wrong information out there right now. I know I've been absent lately, but I'm keeping an eye on things.)

Russian mercenary boss Yevgeny Prigozhin said on Saturday his Wagner fighters had crossed the border into Russia from Ukraine and were prepared to go "all the way" against Moscow's military, hours after the Kremlin accused him of armed mutiny.

As a long-running standoff between Prigozhin and the military top brass appeared to come to a head, Russia's FSB security service opened a criminal case against him, TASS news agency said. It called on the Wagner private military company forces to ignore his orders and arrest him.

Wagner fighters had entered the southern Russian city of Rostov, Prigozhin said in an audio recording posted on Telegram. He said he and his men would destroy anyone who stood in their way.

Prigozhin earlier said, without providing evidence, that Russia's military leadership had killed a huge number of his troops in an air strike and vowed to punish them.

He said his actions were not a military coup. But in a frenzied series of audio messages, in which the sound of his voice sometimes varied and could not be independently verified, he appeared to suggest that his 25,000-strong militia was en route to oust the leadership of the defence ministry in Moscow.

Security was stepped up on Friday night at government buildings, transport facilities and other key locations in Moscow, TASS reported, citing a source at a security service.

Russian President Vladimir Putin was getting around-the-clock updates, TASS said, while the White House said it was monitoring the situation and would consult with allies.

Kyiv, meanwhile, said the major thrust in its counteroffensive against Moscow's invasion had yet to be launched. "The main blow is still to come," Deputy Defence Minister Hanna Maliar told Ukrainian television.

A top Ukrainian general reported "tangible successes" in advances in the south - one of two main theatres of operations, along with eastern Ukraine.

'OBEY PRESIDENT,' GENERAL SAYS

The deputy commander of Russia's Ukraine campaign, General Sergei Surovikin, told Wagner fighters to obey Putin, accept Moscow's commanders and return to their bases. He said political deterioration would play into the hands of Russia's enemies.

"I urge you to stop," Surovikin said in a video posted on Telegram, his right hand resting on a rifle.

The standoff, many of the details of which remained unclear, looked like the biggest domestic crisis Putin has faced since he sent thousands of troops into Ukraine in February last year.

Prigozhin, a one-time Putin ally, in recent months has carried out an increasingly bitter feud with Moscow. Earlier on Friday, he appeared to cross a new line, saying the Kremlin's rationale for invading Ukraine, which it calls a "special military operation," was based on lies by the army's top brass.

Wagner led Russia's capture of the Ukrainian city of Bakhmut last month, Russia's biggest victory in 10 months, and Prigozhin has used its battlefield success to criticise the leadership of the defense ministry with seeming impunity - until now.

For months, he has openly accused Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and Russia's top general, Valery Gerasimov, of incompetence.

Army Lieutenant-General Vladimir Alekseyev issued a video appeal in which he asked Prigozhin to reconsider his actions. "Only the president has the right to appoint the top leadership of the armed forces, and you are trying to encroach on his authority," he said.

UKRAINE SAYS MAJOR THRUST AHEAD

On the ground in Ukraine, at least three people were killed in Russian attacks on Friday, including two who died after a trolleybus company came under fire in the city of Kherson, regional officials said.

Addressing the pace of the Ukrainian advances, several senior officials on Friday sent the clearest signal so far that the main part of the counteroffensive has not yet begun.

"I want to say that our main force has not been engaged in fighting yet, and we are now searching, probing for weak places in the enemy defences. Everything is still ahead," the Guardian quoted Oleksandr Syrskyi, the commander of Ukraine's ground forces, as saying in an interview with the British newspaper.

General Oleksandr Tarnavskyi, commander of Ukraine's "Tavria," or southern front, wrote on Telegram: "There have been tangible successes of the Defence Forces and in advances in the Tavria sector."

Tarnavskyi said Russian forces had lost hundreds of men and 51 military vehicles in the past 24 hours, including three tanks and 14 armoured personnel carriers.

Although the advances Ukraine has reported this month are its first substantial gains on the battlefield for seven months, Ukrainian forces have yet to push to the main defensive lines that Russia has had months to prepare.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Darrell Lucus at Loud, Liberal, Christian:

One of the few diehard Donald Trump supporters among my friends often says that I shouldn’t let my disgust at Trump’s behavior blind me to what he’s supposedly doing for the country. She frequently says, “You’re not inviting him to dinner!” She also suggests that I’m letting my outrage at Trump’s outrages—something that has once again become an almost daily occurrence since his return to the White House—override my love for the country. Like most of us who have recoiled in disgust at Trump ever since he came down the escalator, I despise Trump because I love my country. And like most of us who have recoiled in disgust at Trump over the years, I despise Trump because, time and again, he has shown that despite his ranting about how Democrats and their handmaidens in the “FAKE NEWS media” don’t let him do his job, he hasn’t even begun to understand what his job is. Yet another reminder of this came with Trump’s displays on social media on Easter Sunday.

As much of the East Coast was gearing up to go to church, Trump fired off this on Truth Social. Before you ask—this is real. So, once again, we have another deranged holiday social media post from Trump. Posts like this are why I have never even considered supporting him, and why I will never vote Republican for anything, anywhere again until the GOP shakes itself loose from him. You don’t need any special training to know that anyone who posts something like this is not well. If anyone else posted something like this, people would rightly be questioning their sanity. Why should Trump get a pass for this? I’ve asked this question for a decade every time he fires off a deranged post along these lines—and I’ve yet to get an answer that makes any kind of sense.

This is especially personal for me, as someone who has been taken advantage of by a lot of people in my 47 years on this planet. Most of my longtime readers and friends know about two of the most outrageous examples. In my freshman year at Carolina, I was tricked into joining an abusive and outright cultish hypercharismatic group. It took me six months to get out of there—a little over 180 days. By my reckoning, they lied to me 180 times, if not more. Years later, I spent three years being married to an abusive and controlling woman who yelled, screamed and cursed at me so often that when I finally left, I was as beaten down as anyone who had been slapped or punched by their spouse. Even worse, I discovered that this woman had willfully concealed her history of abusing her own children—a history that, as far as I’m concerned, rendered that marriage morally null and void. More recently, I discovered not long after I got married for the second time legally and the first time morally that my father—or rather, my sperm donor—had willfully stayed on third shift as a city bus driver in order to facilitate cheating on my mother. I had wondered why he would stay on third knowing that he had a teacher for a wife and two sons at home. He claimed the timing of first shift didn’t work—an argument that didn’t cut ice, given that he was the union rep there for years and could have lobbied for changes. Now I knew why he hadn’t done so. While I’ve expressed my feelings about these matters on social media, I would never, ever, do so in a manner as deranged as Trump has done. It’s part of the reason I bristle at the times that people excuse Trump’s behavior because at bottom, he’s a guy from Queens. I’m half North Jerseyan—basically from a different part of the same country as Trump. There’s one big difference, though. Unlike Trump, I know how to control my tongue—and my thumbs. Granted, a few of my friends on both sides of the aisle have been concerned about how I turn the screws on abusive churches. But I would never, ever talk about them in the manner that Trump talks about people whom he thinks have wronged him. [...] That Trump found it acceptable to make a post this deranged was bad enough. But to pile obscenity on top of insult, he ordered it on the official White House social media channels. No, I’m not kidding. Here’s how it looked on Instagram. [...] Think about it, folks. The president of the United States found it acceptable to fire off a deranged attack against his foes—and then found it acceptable to post it on official social media channels.

Darrell Lucus is right: Donald Trump is manifestly unfit to continue holding office, as his Easter temper tantrum post on Truth Social is more evidence.

[desidarling123]

If you haven't read this expose already, please do, because it's NUTS.

TLDR; Hasan Minhaj admitted to fully just. Lying. About things that, until recently, he posited as things that actually happened to him.

Some of the craziest excerpts from this article (imo)

But was his invention of a traumatic experience with his child or with law-enforcement entrapment distasteful, given the moral heft of those things, and the fact that other people have actually experienced them? “It’s grounded in truth,” Minhaj said. “But it didn’t happen to you,” I replied.

Dude. DUDE. What the fuck?!?!

There’s a palpable discomfort among comedians when they are asked to comment on another person’s art—a sort of code of omertà. But a number of writers and performers who spoke with me bristled at Minhaj’s moralizing posture. “He tonally presents himself as a person who was always taking down the despots and dictators of the world and always speaking truth to power,” one former “Patriot Act” employee said. “That’s grating.”

Yeah, this always drove me crazy about his style, but now coupled with the truth that he's been making half his shit up? Fucking insidious.

“If he’s lying about real people and real events, that’s a problem,” the writer said. “So much of the appeal of those stories is ‘This really happened.’ ”

Exactly. Hasan's whole claim to fame is being a "truth-teller" so discovering how much of his stories are lies... yikes!

Many stories on the cancellation also mentioned a series of tweets from former female employees of color alluding to their poor work experience behind the scenes. A document reviewed by The New Yorker revealed that three women had hired an attorney and threatened litigation against Netflix and “Patriot Act” ’s production company, alleging gender discrimination, sex-based harassment, and retaliation.

I remember when these came out. My IRL acquaintances did not really believe it, but I definitely felt odd about it. No smoke without fire...

Oh, and this ending fucking FLOORED ME.

When we spoke, I asked, were he to get “The Daily Show” hosting job, if his fabrications could put him in a compromised position when commenting on someone such as George Santos. Minhaj brushed the question off. “I think, when George Santos says he’s on the volleyball team, it’s a pointless story,” he responded. Minhaj’s “fiction” was always in service to a bigger point, putting him in a different moral category than Santos. He appeared unwilling to engage with the idea that his position in the comedic landscape is unique, or that the host of a comedy news show might be held to more stringent standards of accuracy across his body of work. When it came to his stage shows, he told me, “the emotional truth is first. The factual truth is secondary.” ♦

What a bunch of word scramble to justify.... not telling the truth? "Emotional truth", what a load of garbage. It's fucking identical to the same concept "Alternative Facts" the Far-Right was pushing so hard on us just years ago.

As a POC I find this especially rankling because we fight so hard for our stories to be heard... only for some fucking rando to not just co-opt those experiences and traumas, but fully... make them up? And claim them as his own? For clout?!?!?

What a mess. Unlikely to hurt his career (unfortunately) but goddamn.

[tewwor-moving]

* & NEW MUSE LIST .

soothsayer 'saraj cai' .

Part of The Marked ( lore here ). Mother of this local sect, does dote on pretty much all of The Marked but in her own semi-strict way, has prosthetic eyes, it’s ok to accidentally make a pun or two around her — she does it too ( no, the irony of of her saying ‘i see’ or being titled as an overseer isn’t lost on her ), prefers to use a cane, has her way on keeping tabs on everyone

ricochet 'ryaan iyer' .

All he knows is to fight, break, defeat. Never give up. Never back down. Sink his teeth in and never let go. Return the pain and rage threefold even if it tears him apart in the process. Part of The Marked ( lore here ) and certified trainer and hard ass. Doesn't allow himself time to chill out until he remembers his past fully. Reliable to get any job done ( or he'll die trying ), but keeps everyone at an arm's length.

hal murray .

The half that lies in a buddy detective duo. Aka the recently divorced single parent but not a good (conventional) role model and channels that angst / anger into his job detective. Certified hot mess that tries so desperately to come across as put together ( he rarely does ). Kid's name is Jenathan.

yoo serim .

The half that tells the truth in a buddy detective duo. Aka the comedic relief that's found a way to work smarter and no harder. Constantly eating something different in every interaction. Hal's kid thinks he's cooler / asks for advice from him instead. Has a habit to gently neg people when he's super bored.

min hyeonwoo .

self made angel ( unknowingly a parasitic divine being ) — religious trauma meets desperation solely to survive. they broke the wings clean, tore the halo free knowing there’s no turning back. ever. the transformation consumed them. melted just about everything before it all snapped back. but wrong. they came back wrong, but holy. sort of.

a ring of sacred light collars the throat, brandishing forever reddened skin. what juts from the back is just as mangled as whom they robbed. nothing but twisted bone, sinew, and ruined feathers. it hurts to be alive, but that’s okay. there’s power at their fingertips now, burning and raw. just enough for them to press on borrowed time before the inevitable happens and they’re found by the celestials akin to whom they consumed.

except it’s beginning to dawn on them that perhaps they’ve got it all wrong. that maybe the being previously absorbed wasn’t of the same divine ilk, because there sits a hunger foreign to them. only felt towards those pure and holy. do they feast to obtain their power or to become them?

burning both sides of a cigarette. are they the devil or angel on your shoulder?

liáng wěi .

investigator / informant for hire. can and will handle himself in tight situations by being extremely resourceful, but isn’t for killing. the aftermath’s too much of a hassle and he’s not made of money. cleaners are expensive as shit. passionate about cooking / ceramics but isn’t…… that great at them. makes the ugliest and most wrangled looking cups ever, but still fires them and uses them in his dinky office.

jaime bashar-suarez .

bodyguard for hire / close (one-sided) friends with jie. usually gets tips on anyone in need of continuous protection from jie's vigilante stunts. takes after the phrased ‘borrowed time’. as in, he has time manipulation but can only apply stolen time to the present to prolong the near future. can’t go back in time to alter things. can’t go back in time or in the future period. just stays in the present and select a timeframe he wants to extend for whatever reason. extremely taxing on the body so he can’t even enjoy the extension without wanting to keel over. and the people he ‘borrows’ time from? yeah, they get kind of minorly fucked over because of it. gaps in their memory, changes in their body and mind — all depending on how much time is taken.

kubo jiro .

in the wrong place at the wrong time and was accused for killing a peer in his teenage years. case fell through thanks to his father’s influence, but he also got disowned immediately. enlisted in the military after graduation, bffs with a dude in the same unit, got medically discharged after being shot in the gut a few times. tried to get back into society but can't, got himself roped into some crime syndicate because there’s order that he’s familiar with. genuinely cares for people and tries to help even if he needs to do the same 4 himself. plagued with ptsd still 🙁

seo yujin .

growing up at home had always been suffocating for yujin and her sister, so they split once they were able. both were strong, fiery spirits in different ways (fire vs. ice) and things were good for a while. unfortunately, her sister passed away in her late twenties. while everyone within the family was struck with grief, her father coped with it differently. the thing about her father is that he's a scientist hired to take on the concept of androids becoming reality. definitely the mad scientist sort. so her sister was remade as a replicant to fit his image of her. less rebellious, more sweet, lacking that spark that truly made her sister so unique. while horrified by her father's actions, it's undeniable that some of that grief ached less. it's like she's still here, but not.. exactly. So while yujin tried to sort out how she truly felt about it, she threw herself into knowing everything about repairing androids as a whole. except it's starting to wear on her in more recent days. 

[thecanadianarchives]

Thanks to the recent Spider-man movie, I went digging in my archives and was looking for my spidersona oc but instead found my symbiote oc. --- Name: Cassandra Fisher

Age: 19

Height: 6'0"

Sexuality: Homosexual

Identity: Public

Citizenship: Canada

Affiliation: Solo

Alias: Curse

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Likes: Pizza, Chocolate, Natasha Romanoff, Felicia Hardy, most meat products, and rainy days

Dislikes: Nightmares, Carnage, anyone tried to remove Curse from her, loud sound, and fire Curse’s Personality: Like Carnage, Curse is submissive and fiercely loyal to Cass. Though Curse has argued with Cass from time to time about what to do but nothing that make Curse leave Cass. Curse finds Cass to be the perfect host for them and loves all pizza and chocolate feeds Curse.

Cassandra’s Personality: Cassandra may lack intelligence compared to people around her but she picks up with having street smarts, which has helped her keep her alive. She is also very stoic, stubborn and spiteful of those who would betray her trust, to the point she made a shit list of traitors.

Powers: Curse's power reflects their father's power, Carnage. Even with all sharing powers of Carnage, they have three powers that either are unique or more powerful to Carnage's version of the power.

Tracking Evasion: Curse has power to prevent all kinds of tracking, and even cameras can’t record her. The only way to track Curse is using a magical tracking spell or physically seeing her.

Invisibility: Other Symbiotes have some form of camouflage but Curse can go completely invisible. This power isn't perfect as the moment they attack they return being visible.

Neurotoxic Venom: Curse produce a neurotoxic venom and often coat their claws or weapons in it. When Cass is in control the venom is weak and won't kill but when Curse is in the driver seat the venom becomes extremely deadly.

Bio: Cassandra’s story starts a bit before her birth and involves an unethical doctor, who wished to do a study of nurture vs nature. Dr. Robert Roth used his connections to get a sperm sample of the famous killer, Cletus Kasady, before he became Carnage. Dr. Roth paid ten Canadian families, who were desperate for a child, and they were lied to about who the sperm donor was.

Cassandra was born to one of those families, her mother was Native American and father was white man. Everything was fine for the first five years of her life but then her father lost his job and started drinking. He started to abuse his wife and her wife slowly mentally broke down in a year's time. Her mother finally snapped then killed her husband and went to kill Cassandra but slipped and killed herself. Her final words Cassandra remembers was called Cassandra a curse on their family.

Cassandra was found by police after the neighbors called them and she was put into foster care. Her stay wasn’t long luckily and adopted by the Fisher family, which gave her lots of love. For ten years she lived a peaceful life until Cletus Kasady got the Carnage symbiote and found out about the program.

Cletus went after seven of the families first to see if they were like him but was disappointed in seeing none of them were like him. His next target was Cassandra’s family and she was in the basement when he killed her adopted family. She came up to see Carnage over her mother and without a second thought she turned on the home system. The sound on the tv caused Carnage pain and Cassandra could escape Carnage but not unharmed as Carnage slashed her back.

Cassandra got outside of the house and jump started the car to drive off in a panic. For three days Cassandra ran from Carnage with just her wit and luck until the fourth day in St-Bernard-de-Lacolle, Quebec, Carnage had cornered Cassandra. Cassandra didn’t know how to get out of the corner until she felt something crawling out of her skin and a voice telling her to punch. Cassandra punched and sent Carnage through a building wall and Curse covered her body.

Curse told her to run and not even second thought she did that while Curse turned them invisible. Cassandra used this to go over the border to New York and once deep in the city and alleyway she asked who Curse was. Thanks to the genetic memory power all Symbiotes have and that is when Cassandra found out she was the biological daughter of Cletus.

For three years Cassandra is bound to Curse and running from Carnage. On the way Cassandra made few friends in heroes and few enemies in both villains and heroes. She has kept quiet about her being Cletus’ child and everyone thinks she’s being hunted because she escaped his claws.

Top 5 Shit List:

Cletus Kasady - Tried to kill her before she got Curse and still is hunting her.

Reed Rickards - Tried to remove Curse to experiment on it.

Maria Hill - Tried to remove Curse as she thought a child shouldn’t have that kind of power.

Scott Summers - Attacked Cassandra thinking she was Carnage and when this cleared up misinformation he still tried to remove Curse from her.

Norman Osborn - He tried to take Curse away to use it as a new bio-weapon.

Top 5 Trust List:

Natasha Romanoff - Natasha was the first hero to find Cassandra and like trying to gain a feral cat Natasha would use food to gain little trust. She would never lie to Cassandra and let her crash at her apartment. Natasha saved Cassandra and vice versa to the point Cassandra is very close to telling Natasha her deepest secret. Cassandra sees Natasha as a third mother figure.

Felicia Hardy - Taught her how to live on the streets and other skills to survive. Cassandra sees her as a big sister.

Steve Rogers - Steve’s leadership just sucked her in and he never lied or betrayed her, also he taught her how to fix a car. Cassandra sees him as a cool uncle.

Flash Thompson - He saved her from Norman and just like Natasha slowly built a bound, though it’s more of a sibling relationship.

Ororo Munroe - Ororo stopped Scott and used her powers to allow Cassandra to sneak off. Afterwards Ororo would buy Cassandra a pizza a few times and slowly build trust with Cassandra.

[riverdamien]

Words Matter!

"Sloughing Towards  Galilee!

"Bi-Sexual--B+ Month"

September 17, 2024

Words Matter!

Its spice, its ire, its hot desire

Will lure the listeners in

To stoke the blaze of Hade's fire-

This weasel's out to win.

Its schmooze tempts snoopers ripe for fun

With tantalizing bait.

Its spill of juice will thrill and stun

It's tales that devastate.

(Susan Jarvis Bryant, from her poem, "Gossip"

"Love is patient, love is kind, it is not envious. Love does not brag, it is not puffed up. It is not rude, it is not self-serving, it is not easily angered or resentful. It is not glad about injustice but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. .  .And now these three remain: faith, hope, and lovc. But the greatest of these is love ( I Corinthians 13: 4-7; 13-Net Version).

================================`

        One afternoon Sean called, crying, scared, saying he had been beaten up for saying he was "Bi+", "Bi-Sexual" sitting on a curve in the Castro! His mouth was cut open, with a black eye. Who would think that a young man could be beaten up in the Castro, for simply saying to another, "I am Bi+"! Sean was happy to be Bi+ and sharing in this Bi-Sexual Month! He thought of all places he would be safe.

    Recently one of the Presidential candidates was using the town of Springfield, Ohio, as an example of how illegal immigration was ruining our country, Haitians came in, overflowing, the city and there was violence, and decline!

    Pure fabrication! Pure lies! The city has been struggling the last few years with the decline in population and manufacturing. There were empty houses and empty storefronts. As a result of Haitian immigrants being brought in several years ago after military oppression in their own country, the town prospered, and there was a sense of community among the people. Many were active in the various churches, and Springfield's main street no longer had empty spaces!

    Until  Neo-Christians moved in with rumors and lies, using social media as a main tool for spreading gossip and fear,  which has led to violence, suspicion, and division in Springfield, Words matter!

Words matter!  What we say to another matter! We hear the old rhyme "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is an outright lie, for words used harshly, spoken in hate, prejudice, and threatening, can kill!

    Tomorrow, Wednesday, September 18, at 12:15 p.m. I will stand in front of City Hall with a sign saying "Homeless People are Made In God's Image, bearing witness to the reality of the inhumane cruelty of our local and state politicians talking about the possessions of our homeless brothers and sisters and discarding them, seeking to move them out of the City, and State, out of sight! This is inhumane!

    Words Matter! Words that put down other human beings, words that dehumanize and continue to tell people that only the housed and middle-class matter and any other group are not valuable! Say it over and over again, and it becomes truth! A truth that is destructive not only to the ones spoken of but destructive to those saying the words. Words Matter!

    Listen to Words that do Matter, and let each of us remember that Wisdom is crying out on the streets:

Proverbs 1:22-33 (NET)

22 “How long will you who are simple love your simple ways? How long will mockers delight in mockery and fools hate knowledge?

23 Repent at my rebuke! Then I will pour out my thoughts to you, I will make known to you my teachings.

24 But since you refuse to listen when I call and no one pays attention when I stretch out my hand,

25 since you disregard all my advice and do not accept my rebuke,

26 I in turn will laugh when disaster strikes you; I will mock when calamity overtakes you—

27 when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you.

28 “Then they will call to me but I will not answer; they will look for me but will not find me,

29 since they hated knowledge and did not choose to fear the LORD.

30 Since they would not accept my advice and spurned my rebuke,

31 they will eat the fruit of their ways and be filled with the fruit of their schemes.

32 For the waywardness of the simple will kill them, and the complacency of fools will destroy them;

33 but whoever listens to me will live in safety and be at ease, without fear of harm.”

Come Join Me, at Polk side City Hall at 12:15 p.m. Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

=========================

May the work of

“figuring people out”

Never replace the work of knowing people

And loving people

And giving them room

To confound

And inspire

And surprise me

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

30th Anniversary Celebration

Victor’s Pizza

6 p.m.

November 9, 2024

WE ARE BEGGARS! WE REALLY NEED MONEY--Really Badly At the moment!

FOR FOOD, SOCKS, HARM REDUCTION AND OTHER SERVICES!

P.O. Box 642656

415-305-2124

temenos@gmail.com

pay pal

www.temenos.org

(Temenos and Dr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

Temenos Catholic Worker

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

Dr. River Sims, D.Min, D.S.T.

e

...

.

.

[dollycas]

Cozy Wednesday featuring The Grim Steeper (A Witches' Brew Mystery) by Gretchen Rue #Review #HardcoverGiveaway @crookedlanebks @sierradeanauthor

Welcome to Cozy Wednesday!  I am happy to feature The Grim Steeper by Gretchen Rue. The Grim Steeper (A Witches' Brew Mystery) Paranormal Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series Setting - Washington State Publisher ‏ : ‎ Crooked Lane Books (September 10, 2024) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 304 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1639108653 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1639108657 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CPXT4R1D Audiobook ASIN B0D7WCYHN9 Audio CD ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0DBWJLGPY Bookstore owner Phoebe Winchester is putting on her first major author event when a body is discovered and the plot goes off the rails in this cozy mystery, perfect for fans of Cleo Coyle and Jenn McKinlay. Amateur witch Phoebe Winchester is excited to host her first big author event at the Earl’s Study, her book and tea store. The author, Sebastian Marlow, is a famous birder excited to put Raven Creek on the map for his rediscovery of a presumed-extinct bird. When Sebastian is found dead before his planned bird hike, where he expected to prove the existence of the bird to fellow birding enthusiasts, it’s obvious someone wanted him to be extinct, too. Sebastian had a few unfriendly encounters with his staff—including his recently fired manager, who was seen arguing with him at the author event. Phoebe is determined to figure out who killed Sebastian, worried that it will negatively affect her store’s image that her biggest guest author got killed. With the clock ticking, she enlists the help of Rich Lofting, the handsome local private investigator, to help her look into the murder. Dollycas's Thoughts Author Sebastian Marlow is coming to Phoebe Winchester's book and tea store Earl’s Study for a talk and a book signing. The famous birder has also agreed to a hike with his fans as he looks to put Raven Creek on the map if he is right about finding a Pacific tanager that is believed to have been extinct for over 50 years. The signing goes well but before the hike, Sebastian is found dead in his suite at a local B&B. Phoebe has noticed tension between the author and the members of his entourage. He had also recently fired his business manager who came to Raven Creek to try to get his job back. Worried that the murder will reflect badly on her store, Phoebe knows the killer has to be apprehended quickly. She is going to need help so she asks her friend, tenant, and handsome private investigator Rich Lofting to aid her in her quest to find the killer. _____ Our protagonist Phoebe Winchester is struggling to control her witchy abilities and is worried that her secret will be out because of it. She is also learning how to make all the special tea blends her aunt previously made as well as adding some new blends of her own. There's a lawyer in town trying to buy up properties for a big corporation as well, upsetting Leo and her other friends. Add to that a signing with a famous birder followed by his murder means her hands are more than full. There is definitely romantic tension between her and Rich. Her best friend Amy owns the Sugarplum Fairy bakery next to Earl’s Study. She not only bakes delicious treats, but she is a great sounding board for Phoebe ready to give her a shove in the right direction especially considering her love life. Phoebe also has Imogen and Daphne who were friends and employees of her aunt to lean on. All the characters are cleverly crafted with great dialogue. All are very enjoyable. The mystery is full of a spider web of clues, secrets, lies, twists, and turns. Ms. Rue plotted the whole thing out so well that I thought many different people were guilty as I tried to do my armchair sleuthing. As Phoebe works to make sense of the death investigation she even states the plot was "so thick Agatha Christie would have needed a few whiteboards to unravel it all." So I am not ashamed to say I was kept guessing until everything was spelled out for me. I liked that Phoebe shared her and Rich's findings with Detective Patsy Martin and she appreciated it for the most part. But Phoebe's involvement did put her in danger. I loved the showdown and the enlightenment Phoebe received from the good detective. A book and tea store is a splendid setting for a cozy mystery series especially when you add cats. Phoebe's cat Bob is such a cool cat, smart and perceptive. He is also the store cat so he goes to work with her almost every day. Phoebe will do anything to protect him and he would do the same for her. In The Grim Steeper, Phoebe is finally able to open Bob's Place, a small section of the store where she will host adoptable kitties. Bob's reactions were humorous and heartwarming. The Grim Steeper is the perfect mix of mystery and magic. Well written with great detail, Ms. Rue's words pull you into the story to enjoy her wonderful characters and all their triumphs and tribulations with a delightful dose of humor in all the right places. I am very excited for this series to continue. I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Thank you to Crooked Lane Books and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC. Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent About the Author Gretchen Rue lives in the Canadian prairies, which affords her ample time to read during six months of winter. She plays cat mom to four mostly indifferent fur children, and plant mom to roughly 100 very demanding flora. When she isn't sipping tea and working on her next novel, she enjoys swimming, hiking, and watching baseball. Author Links Website    Facebook   Twitter/X    Instagram This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Thanks to the publisher I have 1 hardcover copy to give away! The contest is open to anyone over 18 years old with a US or Canadian mailing address. Duplicate entries will be deleted. Void where prohibited. You do not have to be a follower to enter but I hope you will find something you like here and become a follower. Followers Will Receive 2 Bonus Entries For Each Way They Follow. Plus 2 Bonus Entries For Following My Facebook Fan Page. Add this book to your WANT TO READ shelf on GoodReads for 3 Bonus Entries. Follow Crooked Lane Books on Facebook for 3 Bonus Entries  Follow Crooked Lane Books on Instagram for 3 Bonus Entries  Pin this giveaway to Pinterest for 3 Bonus Entries. If you share the giveaway on Threads, X, or Facebook or anywhere you will receive 5 Bonus Entries For Each Link. The  Contest Will End September 25, 2024, at 11:59 PM CST The Winner Will Be Chosen Using Random.org The Winner Will Be Notified By Email and Will Be Posted Here In The Sidebar. Click Here For Entry Form  Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” “As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from qualifying purchases.” Read the full article

[readingforsanity]

Ward D | Freida McFadden | Published 2023 | *SPOILERS*

Medical student Amy Brenner is spending the night on a locked psychiatric ward.

Amy has been dreading her evening working on Ward D, the hospital's inpatient mental health unit. There are very specific reasons why she never wanted to do this required overnight rotation. Reasons nobody can ever find out.

And as the hours tick by, Amy grows increasingly convinced something terrible is happening within these tightly secured walls. When patients and staff start to vanish without a trace, it becomes clear that everyone on the unit is in grave danger.

Amy's worst nightmare was spending the night on Ward D.

And now she might never escape.

Jade and Amy used to be best friends, until a bipolar disorder diagnosis has left Jade in and out of psyciatric facilities for the majority of her teen and adult years, and Amy has gone one through college and is now entering into her third year of medical school.

Amy, during high school, felt she was being riddled with schizophrenia, having every so often witnessed a young blonde girl that would speak to her and then suddenly disappear. But, after Jade's diagnosis after an unfortunate incident involving their high school math teacher where Jade tied him up and threatened to kill him, Amy hasn't seen her at all.

Now, Amy is going to be spending the night on Ward D during her psychiatric rotation in school. Along with her ex-boyfriend, Cameron, they meet Dr. Beck who insists on meeting some of the patients staying on Ward D to get an idea of what they're going through. Dr. Beck also explains that they have a very dangerous patient inside of one of two seclusion rooms and under no circusmtances are they to open the door to let him out.

The night begins relatively well, albeit a bit boring. Slowly, the patients begin going to sleep. But Amy is reunited with her former best friend, who has recently joined the others on Ward D. She refuses to read Jade's patient chart, though, and only one nurse is available on the floor overnight, who spends the majority of her time reading at the nurses station.

Amy and Cameron spend the night speaking with various patients, including one 29 year old man who seems relatively normal despite receiving a diagnosis of paranoid schizodphrenia after hearing voices. Will has stated that he doesn't hear the voices anymore, and basically keeps to himself. Though Jade later admits that she and Will are dating, and the two of them were admitted to the hopsital at the same time.

When a power outage results in the doors malfunctioning, Amy begins to wonder if the door to Seclusion One has also malfunctioned and the now dangerous patient, Damon Sawyer, has been let loose into the Ward. Strange things begin to happen to further her concerns, and Will admits that he has stopped taking his medications as he doesn't need them. In fact, his diagnosis was wrong and that he lied to get himself onto the Ward. He's a reporter working for a local newspaper, and he is writing a piece after a former patient on the Ward came forward about the conditions the patients are treated.

However, Jade has explained to both Ramona and to Amy that Will is lying, and that she and Will ahve been dating for the last three years, and that she is truly concerned that something more sinister is going on. Amy realizes that she can trust no one, and finally goes to Dr. Beck to explain that they are unable to get off the ward.

When Dr. Beck investigates, he agrees that something needs to happen as they have no means of escaping in case of a fire. It finally occurs to Amy that when the door to the Ward is opened, an alarming bell sounds to inform everyone else that someone is entering or leaving the floor. She realizes that despite being told that Cameron left due to a family emergency, she never heard that alarm sound.

Using water to create another surge in the power, Amy is attempting to leave but instead the curiosity gets the better of her and she checks inside Seclusion One, especially after receiving a message from her roommate and current best friend that Dr. Beck isn't a young sexy doctor like Amy believes, instead being an older man with a white beard. The very man that is dead inside of the seclusion room, along with another patient named Mary, an unnamed woman, and Cameron.

Amy is approached by Dr. Beck, who reveals himself to actually be Damon Sawyer, and he and Jade have come up with this elaborate plan in order to get back at her for leaving Jade high and dry during her initial diagnosis. Jade is threatened by Amy, who has the life she always wanted for herself, and Damon has a history of arson, and plans to set the Ward on fire, allowing the two of them to move forward in their lives.

However, another patient by the name of Spider-Dan comes to Amy's rescue, having earlier claimed to not let anything bad happen to her; and Amy gets her opportunity to take down Jade, which she does. But Jade quickly overpowers her. But Amy has a knitting needle inside her scrub pocket given to her by the now deceased patient named Mary for protection. Using this, she is able to release herself from Jade's grasp until help arrives.

Will is rushed to the ICU, where he recovers, and Jade and Damon are going to spend the rest of their lives in a ward for the criminally insane. Will and Amy begin dating about 8 months after the events, and Will is writing a book on the events of that night. Despite being told by Jade that her hallucinations were caused by drugs put into her favorite drink (the reason she claims she stopped seeing the girl is because she stopped drinking them), Amy admits that she never really stopped seeing the little blonde girl, as she likely has become a part of her conscious. If it wasn't for her, she wouldn't have survived that night that she now has nightmares about. However, Amy claims that she isn't insane, and would never do some of the things the little girl urges her to do, including to harm someone else.