#tort reform

[mourning-again-in-america]

people keep talking about how conservatives use all sorts of coded messaging to communicate and that seems to be much less true than them, like most people, being loud about what they want & in much disagreement if you go where they speak comfortably

[maddie-grove]

Sometimes you like the idea of a ship but then you hate how almost everyone writes about it in fic or in meta.

[handsoflovers]

-

[crushribbons]

𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖

summary: Bobby Moch makes for one passive-aggressive roommate. (pt. 1/?)

cw: 5.5k words, modern!au, roommate!bobby, light/medium shorty hunt x reader, light suggestive content (18+ ONLY), drug use, fem reader. this is a work of fiction about the character portrayed in tbitb and not affiliated at all with the actual historical figure (like duh?) requests are open cuties

a/n: i wanna smoke the shit that got those white boys to the olympics xx laney

8-track for the series: 1・2・3・4・5・6・7・8

“Fine. The final offer I will accept is: you get the pizza, I pick the movie, and you roll up.”

“How is that a good deal for me?”

“You get to benefit from my impeccable taste in movies.”

“Oh, please, Bobby–we’re watching Horrible Bosses again, aren’t we?”

Her roommate grinned from ear to ear. “You bet your fuckin’ boot we are.” She groaned in reluctant acceptance and began searching the name of the nearest pizza place that didn’t just microwave drywall and put it in a box. Bobby dictated demands for extra breadsticks and beverages that she ignored.

Once the pizza had been ordered, she slid her phone into her back jeans pocket and told him she’d walk the eight blocks to pick it up “IF,” she pointed a finger at the man clad in his WSU crewneck and narrowed her eyes. “If you roll. It’s the least you can do, golddigger.”

Bobby threw a hand up to his chest in outraged offense. “Golddigger? Darling, I may have married you for the money but to say it out loud…so very gauche.”

“It’s a good thing you’re pre-law. You can talk me into fucking anything,” she grumbled as she pulled on a jacket and pulled the hood up. Thunder had been making threats of a rainstorm all afternoon, and now that the sun had set, fat droplets were beginning to fall against the windows of their ground-floor apartment. She peered out at the darkness and grimly hoped that she could trek there and back without getting too soaked. 

Bobby went into his room while she pulled on shoes and came back waving the plastic baggie of bud he’d scored from one of many suppliers on the pre-law track. It was something of an epidemic among the students, Bobby included, who swore they’d end it all if they had to read one more book about tort reform. “I’ll have them ready by the time you traipse back in here,” he promised, settling down at the small desk they did homework at and pulling a rolling tray and stack of papers toward him.

“Tight this time, Robert.”

“I’m always tight, sweetheart.” 

It was a wonder his roommate’s eyes weren’t permanently stuck rolled back in her skull. Moving in with Bobby in his off-campus apartment had seemed like the perfect option when her junior-year housing had fallen through at the last minute, but she’d neglected to take into account that Bobby would be there. To his credit, he was a fastidiously clean housemate and always did his dishes; he even often cleaned her room for her on the late nights where she was stuck in the library tearing her hair out over yet another batch of assignments. 

But his chatterbox nature, which she had hoped and prayed died down significantly when he was at home, did nothing of the sort. If anything, the captive audience of a girl he’d previously only gotten to squawk at a few times a week egged him on to new heights of talkativeness. She often woke up to him already standing in her doorway and halfway through a conversation: “...but then SHE said that she’d call the police on HIM, so they were both, like, staring each other down, and the whole class is dead silent while this is happening, and–”

“Bobby, what time is it.”

“–and then he–5:45, why?–then HE gets all in her face about how he has a room full of witnesses to this, which, by the way, I was filming the whole thing, and…”

After a few weeks though, the constant drone of his chatter started soothing and comforting her after long days. She could come home, throw her bag down and dive into the nearest pair of sweatpants available, and he would trail behind her the whole time, recounting his entire day starting with the exact minute he woke up and what he had eaten for breakfast. It was reliable, monotonous, and really, kind of nice to just lean against his legs while they watched something dumb on TV and let his voice wash over her.

Another perk of living with Bobby was that he was starting to get pretty good at rolling joints.

She exhaled a long line of smoke and leaned back on the couch, examining the roach pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Not bad, Moch,” she managed to huff out before a coughing fit overcame her. The smoke settled too heavy in her lungs and made her face turn red as she hacked her breathing back to normal. Bobby was watching her sideways as he took a hit off his own joint, pulled it into his chest, and held it there for a moment with lips pressed tightly together.

“You caught me on a bad day last time,” he eked out, trying to hold the smoke in until it sputtered out from between his lips and he followed it, exhaling strongly and blowing smoke all over the pizza that lay in front of them on the coffee table. Six of the eight pieces were missing, and as the weed wrapped itself like taffeta around her brain, she decided that it would be best if they finished off the remaining two as soon as humanly possible. “My fingers were super tired and I rolled you a sub-par product, that’s just the truth.”

“Well, all is forgiven after these. Oh.” She stretched her arm forward to place her dying joint in the handmade ashtray she had painted during their forced roommate-bonding trip to a paint-your-own pottery studio. It bore the image of a stick-figure her, smiling and the sun shining, next to a stick-figure Bobby who was tied to a chair and whose mouth was covered securely with duct tape. He had dragged her out to the studio on the worst day of her period, and documenting her feelings towards him at that particular time had been very important to her. “I forgot to tell you. Speaking of fingers being tired, guess who asked me out on a daaaaate,” she said, singing the last few words in a way that came out creepier than intended.

Bobby frowned and did likewise with his joint. His eyes were pink and glassy at this point, and it seemed to take him a few extra brain cells to try and remember names right now. “Who?”

“Shorty Hunt.” Bobby’s eyebrows flew up and she tried to laugh but it dissolved quickly into another cough, her lungs still struggling to keep up with his disproportionately strong ones. Yelling for four hours a day, minimum, during crew practice gave him the lung capacity of a whale. Hence also his ability to talk ad nauseam. 

“A date? You?”

“I know, who is she?” she said. It was a joke, but an accurate one, and it rankled. Between her schoolwork and the on-campus job she needed to make her half of the rent, she had forgotten to leave time for romance, and very rarely went out with anyone. She vaguely remembered kissing someone on a night that, to her drunken memory, seemed Halloween-ish. She knew that if she were to look at a calendar right now and add up how long it had been since October, she’d probably go the same way Bobby did when he thought about tort reform. 

Bobby pulled his legs up and tucked them criss-cross as he continued to ponder this development. He looked so cute like this, she thought with a dreamy little smile on her face. Being high always softened the edges of everything, including the many irritants of her roommate. He was wearing her favorite ensemble of his, although he had no idea: a navy blue sweatshirt, plaid boxer pajama shorts, and thick, cozy socks that pooled around his ankles. His frame, which she found adorable, was tucked even smaller than usual on the couch next to her. Weed made him want to shrink away, he always said.

It was the time of day when the product that he carefully combed through his hair every morning was starting to lose its hold, and a few stray pieces fell into his eyes as she watched him work through his intoxicated state to form a normal sentence.

“Shorty Hunt…” he mused. His eyes drifted up to the TV, where Jason Bateman and Charlie Day were frantically vacuuming cocaine off the ground. “He’s a good-looking young man. One of our finest.” The rain was still pouring outside, and she slid her feet under his legs to keep them warm.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“You should do it,” said Bobby, but it didn’t convince her, which surprised her a little. He never had a bad word to say about any of his teammates, although he would sometimes come up with very cruel nicknames targeting their masculinity if he caught them not giving their all in the shell. Her high was making her question a lot of things, one of them being why Bobby’s mouth had settled into such a humorless line. It was cute, seeing him try to be serious.

“Maybe I will,” she replied carefully. “What would be something fun we could do?”

“I’m not your damn day planner.” The words snapped out of Bobby’s mouth and slapped her in the face, leaving her in such shock that she couldn’t form a reply until Bobby colored and added on with a sheepish tone and nervous grin, “I mean, if I plan your dates for you, you’re just going to end up doing a lot more of this.” He swept his arm in front of him, indicating the pizza, movie, and still-smoldering joints. 

She had no idea what was happening. The two of them had discussed men, women, and dating prospects of all sorts over the past two years, and Bobby had never done worse than roll his eyes when she inquired after the shy and silent Don Hume and told her, “Honey, there aren’t enough hammers in the world to break that turtle out of its shell.” She had scolded him for thinking you could smash a turtle out of its own shell and they had laughed and never talked about Hume in that context again. 

Although…Come to think of it, she’d gotten similar brush-offs from the coxswain in the past regarding his friends and teammates. As they settled into comfortable silence on the couch, a stoned stupor heavy in the air, she tried to recall whom else he’d dismissed as romantic options for her. She was unable to snatch one from the depths of her memory before the opportunity presented itself for her to lay her head in Bobby’s lap and she took it, her eyes sliding shut immediately as she inhaled his scent of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweet, skunky smoke. 

Her last thought before the weed closed her eyes gently for her and she drifted off to sleep was that Bobby really was so cute. I gotta stop smoking this strain, the last rational part of her thought to itself, then she was lost to the sensation of his fingers threading into her hair and stroking absent-mindedly.

On Monday, she told Shorty that she would go out to dinner with him, and on Friday, they went to dinner. It was nice; Shorty’s conversation didn’t revolve entirely around rowing, and his winning smile made her blush more than once as he held open doors and pulled out her chair for her. When their dessert plates had been cleared away and the waiter inquired whether they would like some coffee or another glass of wine, their eyes met, and a shared glint that said “And pay these prices for it?” made Shorty suppress a smile and say, “I think we’ll just take the check, please.” 

They walked down the lamp-lit sidewalk that led to her apartment at a snail’s pace, lingering beside each other and chatting happily. When they reached the front door of her building, Shorty turned to face her and said, “Well, thank you for a lovely evening.” His self-assured demeanor slipped as he pressed his lips together and glanced up at her door. The moonlight hitting his dark hair and the two glasses of wine she’d had with dinner were casting him in a very appetizing light.

“Thank you, George. I had a lovely time.” She copied him in glancing at the door, and when she brought her eyes back to his, he was looking at her like she was a delicate thing that he thought might blow away in the blustery wind whipping around them. It made her mouth go dry. Her gaze slid down to his lips while she said, “If you want, I have a bottle of Malbec we could open up.” She had wanted her voice to come out sultry and enticing; strained and whimpery were better descriptors for how it actually sounded. “I know you said that’s your favorite…”

While Shorty stood behind her, patiently waiting for her to fumble her keys in the lock and finally push the door open, she wondered why she had ever put off dating this long. She hoped hard that he would end up staying the night. The image of the lanky Shorty walking into the kitchen for breakfast in one of Bobby’s borrowed sweatshirts, the hemline of which would probably hit him mid-torso, made her giggle, and Shorty followed suit, asking “What is it?”

“I–oh, nothing!” Her key turned at last and she pushed the door open, twisting around to look up at him. She bit her lip when she saw how he was eyeing her up and down. “Don’t forget about Bobby. Try to be quiet if you can; we won’t have a moment of peace if he learns there’s fresh ears to be talked off,” she said, and he grinned.

“I am familiar with Mr. Moch’s work.” Shorty closed his lips and mimed locking them and tossing the key. 

They slipped into the lobby and passed several doors until they reached the door marked “109”. She pulled her keys out once more to unlock it, but before she could, Shorty grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and pressed her back to the door, and kissed her. It wasn’t forceful, but she felt every muscle relax and melt into him as his soft lips melded with hers. She grabbed at the frayed tie he’d worn to dinner and used it to pull his body closer to hers. The key sat, forgotten, in the lock for several minutes while they made out, trying hard to keep their moans and sighs to a minimum since they were still in the middle of the hall, after all.

She broke apart from him and all she could gasp out was, “Come on, my room.” Shorty’s hair was sticking up wildly from the place she’d run her hands through it and he looked like a man possessed as he watched her unlock the door and push her way inside. The lights were off, save for the small lamp her and Bobby always left on if they went to bed before the other. The sight made her exhale quietly in relief. It was well past midnight, and Bobby had probably had his “smoke and two beers”, their favorite shared Friday night delicacy, and fallen asleep long ago.

The tiled kitchen was cool on her bare feet as she kicked off her shoes and jogged over to the wine rack on the counter next to the fridge. The Malbec (the only bottle on the rack that had cost more than $10) and two glasses in hand, she ran to Shorty and tugged him by his belt into her bedroom. He was laughing in delight as she pushed him down on her bed and set the glasses on her nightstand, the only light in the room filtering in from the hallway as she climbed over him and began kissing him and undoing his tie simultaneously. 

When Shorty’s hips bucked, on instinct, into her core, she vowed to never go this long without a date again. She wasn’t sure she saw a life-long future with Shorty, but she did see a short-term future of pretty spectacular sex with the tall, well-built gentleman in her bed right now, and that sounded plenty appealing to her. 

They continued kissing for a while, their tongues in each other’s mouths. She peeked at him and saw that his eyebrows were quirked upwards in an expression of desperate desire. The sight made her panties dampen. The irritating reminder of responsibility that came with casual sex snuck up and tapped her impatiently on the shoulder, and she groaned as she pulled her lips away from his and said, “Lemme make sure I have condoms.” Shorty panted and followed her reach towards her nightstand, but when she stretched across his chest, her tits, about to fall out of the lacy shirt she’d worn on the date, grazed his face and a little moan slipped out of him. He reached up to palm her over her shirt and the action caught her off guard so badly that she yelped and knocked one of the waiting wine glasses off her nightstand. The glass hit the floor and shattered, causing them both to bolt upright as Shorty slurred, “Y’ok?”

“Shit, yes, just a clumsy idiot,” she muttered. Frustrated by the building desire inside her stomach that demanded attention, she swung a leg off the bed, careful to miss the pile of glass shards. “I’ll just clean this up real quick.”

“How ‘bout you just get back here and let me do that later,” Shorty propositioned, a smirk on his kiss-stained mouth that made her tremble. 

Still, the promise of glass stabbing into the bottom of her bare foot after she inevitably forgot it was there was enough to make her reply, “How ‘bout you pour yourself the other glass and wait for me to come back.” She leaned forward and placed one hand over the groin of his pants, a tent already very evident, and smiled against his parted lips. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

“This night has been well worth the twenty laps I’m gonna have to run tomorrow when I miss a.m. practice.”

“Already planning on missing practice?” “Well, I assume you’ll need someone here to help you walk again.” The line made her roll her eyes and scoff, in spite of herself. “Don’t write a check your ass can’t cash, Hunt.”

“I wasn’t planning on using my ass; I was thinking more along the lines of my c–” He was calling after her as she shut the bedroom door behind her with a swat.

She stumbled blearily to the kitchen, lust addling her mind as she giggled to herself and fantasized about George and what he would do to her when she dove back into bed with him. She was so lost in her thoughts about what those powerful arms and taut core could do that she didn’t notice the kitchen not being empty until its only other occupant cleared his throat and said, “I’d ask how it’s going, but clearly, the answer is ‘pretty ok’.” 

“Bobby!” She jumped and grasped the countertop for support. “You scared the shit out of me. I told you to never wait ominously in the dark for me.”

“The lights were on already. Since I am not seated in an armchair and did not flick on a lamp to dramatic effect, I think I’m in the clear.” He had a beer bottle in front of him at the table, and was wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts again. She wondered why she was noticing that.

She rummaged around the cabinet under the sink until she found some dirty rags and a small bucket. Taking them in hand, she rose to her feet and turned back to Bobby. “Thanks for telling me to do this.” Her cheeks flushed a little as he continued staring her down, emotion indiscernible on his face. “Didn’t know how bad I needed a date. How was–”

“You like him?” Bobby asked, cutting her off. Her mouth opened and closed in a fish-like mechanical movement a few times. 

“He’s…he’s hot, Bob. I don’t think we’ll be picking out china anytime soon, but, God, he’s hot,” she finally acquiesced with a gush, and she thought she noticed Bobby sit up a little taller, a little more stiffly. “But I am sorry to have missed smoke and two beers night–”

He cut her off again, and she felt the frustration that had been largely sexual in nature start to turn Moch-avellian. “Well, I’m sure you won’t be having time for smoking with little old me anymore when there are tall rowers to deflower.”

She frowned. The strap of her top fell down one shoulder and she pulled it back up without thought. She was sure her hair and makeup were both too mussed for him to take her seriously at the present moment, but she found herself too exasperated to care. 

“You done, drama king? I’m gonna head back in there.” She nodded towards her bedroom and started walking towards it. Bobby jumped to his feet and followed after her. He wasn’t done. 

She’d seen Bobby be mildly possessive before; being the youngest of three boys had given him survival of the fittest instincts that usually only reared their head when she tried to reach for his snacks from the pantry. Sometimes, though, when the wrong mood struck him, he would use his powers of speech for pure evil, and could spit vitriol about anyone who even looked at him the wrong way. Clearly, tonight had brought on one such mood.

“I’m sure I won’t see either of you tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even the day after that, so have tons of fun making babies and try to remember to send me a save the date when you mail them out. If you can teach that knucklehead to read quickly enough for him to write his own vows,” he practically spat, and she found herself agog at him.

“Robert Moch, what the hell has gotten into you?” she breathed. “You love Shorty.”

Bobby balked. “You didn’t have to start dating him.”

“You told me to, you complete ass.” 

She should have known that logic was powerless in the face of Bobby Moch. He spluttered for a long while, his arms moving up and down in gestures that she was sure were supposed to mean something. Despite his mere five feet and eight inches, he could manage to take up a lot of space when he wanted to. When they stood face to face the way they were and she didn’t have any shoes on, he was a few inches taller than her. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know how gross it would be to hear you two slopping and giggling all over each other.” He adopted an exaggerated face of disgust like a toddler that had been offered stewed carrots, then began simpering in a poor imitation of Shorty’s voice: “Oh, baby, you feel so good. I hope I can find my way out of your pussy later.”

“Shut UP!” she hissed, glancing over at her closed bedroom door and hoping Bobby’s rude mockery hadn’t carried far enough for Shorty to hear. “That is so mean. You are being mean, Bobby, why are you being so mean to him?” Bobby had never taken shots at any of his teammates’ intelligence before, other than passing jockish insults disguising genuine affection for the boys. Besides, even if he did, they’d probably let him have it just as hard, once they managed to catch their breath from dragging his ass over the finish line. “What are you–” she scoffed before she could stop herself, “–jealous?”

Bobby’s jaw ground as he clenched his teeth together and backed a few steps away from her. She hadn’t even noticed that they were nearly nose-to-nose. His bright blue eyes were electrified.

“No,” he said, voice dangerously low. It was the shortest sentence he’d ever spoken in his life and it freaked her out when he didn’t continue.

“Well, we’ll go back to his place then so you don’t have to hear all the slopping.” She knew she was being petty. But he had always been terrible at articulating what was actually bothering him; another side effect of his upbringing was the passive aggressive manner of arguing that his mother had ingrained in him.

He swatted a hand at her and she saw a little bit of the fight in his shoulders dissipate. “No, no. Don’t bother. I’m just…just tired. I’m gonna head to bed.” She watched as he passed her, the beer bottle hanging loose in his fingertips and his jaw still set, and entered his room across the hall from hers. He didn’t exactly slam the door, but her stomach was still in confused knots when it shut and she was left standing alone, staring after him and wondering what was actually plaguing him to make him lash out at her and George.

George. “Oh, shit!” she hissed and trotted into her own room, where Shorty was still laying on the bed. The almost-fight with Bobby leaked out of her head with worrying rapidity when she took in his bare chest and legs, stretched out and waiting for her, and the devilish grin he was wearing while he said, “Thought maybe you’d forgotten about me.”

The broken glass was not cleaned up until the next morning.

When she had disposed of the shards and the bucket holding them, she crawled back into her bed next to Shorty, who was still groaning himself awake and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The sex had, as predicted, been amazing, but the nagging thought that she should make her intentions with him clear was eating at her. Shorty was too sweet to blindside.

“Hey,” she began in a whisper, trailing a finger up his neck and chin to tap on his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut but cracked one open to peek at her. 

“Mm…good morning, sweetheart.”

Something inside her bristled. Before she had time to examine why, she decided to just plow forward. “Last night was so wonderful.” Shorty smiled and she felt her resolve weakening when she saw how the corners of his eyes crinkled. Maybe she could see a world where they went out. She tried to imagine sitting on the couch and watching shitty movies with him, or going on a pottery-painting date, or going clothes shopping and waiting for him to decide between two identical light green shirts (“This one is mint and this one is sage. You seriously can’t tell the difference?”). For some reason, her brain refused to conjure the image of Shorty in those settings. But he was still looking up at her expectantly, all doe eyes and mussed-up hair. 

“I was wondering if you would just want…kind of….uh…” She gestured to him and then to her, only three articles of clothing present between the two of them. “Keep this nice and casual.”

Nerves ate her alive as Shorty’s eyebrows raised and he let out a small “huh.” She gritted her teeth and started to apologize but he cut her off gently. “That is a-ok with me, baby. You’re a fuckin’ firecracker and if that’s what you want?” He pulled his hands out from under the duvet and offered his upturned wrists to her. “I am just a man.”

“Fuck, thanks, Shorty,” she smiled, relief washing over her. 

“Wanna keep things casual right now?” he asked with a wink. Heat flooded through her body and she wanted very much to say yes, yes I would, but her eyes fell to the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, and she shot upright.

“Dude, it’s 8:15! You can still make it to practice if you go now!” Shorty swore and sprang out of bed, pulling on clothes in whatever order he could reach them, catching the shoe she threw with expert reflexes and putting it on before his slacks. “I’ll text Joe and tell him to bring you extra clothes!” “Got some in back of my car,” he replied, but his words were muffled by the spare toothbrush that she pulled out of her dresser drawer, ripped free from its cardboard packaging, and shoved into his mouth. He hopped out of the room, only one leg in his pants, and down to the bathroom. She shouted directions for where to find toothpaste and soap and he grunted in affirmation as she heard the faucet turn on.

When she bent down to peer in the fridge and find something quick for him to eat on his way to the docks, she noticed a yellow post-it note stuck to the freezer door with a WSU magnet. 

Dead dove (waffles) do not eat (you may eat).

A sigh of gratitude and laugh of delight huffed out of her at the same time as she opened the freezer and pulled three frozen waffles out of the new box Bobby had purchased. Their spat from last night had been all but forgotten, and shame swirled inside her as she popped two of the waffles into the toaster and thought about how defeated her friend had been when he’d gone to bed. Clearly, he had awoken at the appropriate time and gone to the docks for practice already, but the note he’d left behind for her made an annoying little tear form in one eye. An annoying little tear for an annoying little guy.

Luckily, Shorty barreled into the kitchen before any more tears formed. At that exact moment, the waffles jumped from the toaster and startled her, but he just yanked them out of the grate, held one in his mouth while balancing the other in the hand that was also trying to button the dress shirt he’d worn last night. He pecked her cheek and mumbled through his mouthful of food, “Gimme a call, ya know, whenever!” 

Then he was gone, the slight rattle of the front door as it flew shut behind him the only evidence that she hadn’t just been standing in the kitchen, defrosted frozen waffle in hand, the entire morning. While she sat and ate her meager breakfast (her stomach didn’t seem able to handle much more than the waffle and a glass of water), she held the post-it between her fingers and considered it. Bobby was thoughtful, so thoughtful. Thoughtful and sweet. Cute, kind, sweet.

And jealous of the boys she dated. 

Which, she argued with herself, could be easily attributed to his possessive nature. She was his roommate and built-in best friend, and the prospect of her spending a lot more time with Shorty must have irked him because it would be taking time away from their hangouts. Right? 

The rebuttal to her argument was a completely unbidden remembrance of the time she had fallen asleep on the couch the night before an exam with two textbooks open on her legs and highlighters scattered all around her. She had blearily awoken to the sight of Bobby taking the books off of her and organizing her mess of supplies on the coffee table. She had kept pretending to be asleep as he laid the wool blanket that lived on the back of the couch over her and tucked it securely around her. A small smile had fought its way to her lips but vanished quickly when he leaned forward, smoothed the hair off her forehead, and whispered, “‘Night, sweetheart.”

That same thing inside her that had bristled when Shorty used the nickname stretched out and purred. Morning sunlight was starting to stream into the kitchen as she continued staring at the post-it in her hand, and the light catching it made her realize that there was writing on the back, as well. She turned it over and tried to decipher Bobby’s chicken scratch. 

I’m sorry about last night.

Next to this, he had clearly written a few letters then scratched them out. She couldn’t make out anything other than an “L”, but he had dashed an “X” and an “O” after the scribble. God, it was so very Bobby of him to apologize via post-it. It should have frustrated her more than it did. His casual acquaintances never guessed at his passive-aggression because he was always yelling about one thing or another, but she was one of the few that knew that the yelling usually concealed something deeper. 

Grabbing her phone from where it was charging on her desk, she checked the time to see that there were still a few minutes before 8:30. Practice hadn’t officially started yet. Shorty had shared his location with her last night when they were meeting up for dinner, and she quickly checked it, seeing with a chuckle that he had made it to the docks already. Breaking several traffic laws in the process, no doubt. 

She pulled up her and Bobby’s conversation. It was the only one pinned to the top of her inbox. The last sent message, from Bobby and the final in a series of twelve he had sent with no break, read “Also it’s probably going to rain today so bring an umbrella.” She pressed her lips together, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

thanks for the dead dove!! also i’m sorry too about last night :( dinner tonight with your fav roommate?

The reply came back in a matter of seconds.

You can read my mind, or somethin’ <3

or somethin’

masterlist

[brightlotusmoon]

"25 years ago today, a jury in New Mexico announced its verdict in one of the most infamous and misunderstood cases in recent memory: Liebeck v. McDonald's, also known as the "hot coffee lawsuit."

This case is held up as one of most egregious examples of frivolous lawsuits. The story goes that a woman bought coffee from McDonald's, drove with it between her legs, spilled it on herself, sued McDonald's because it was hot, and took a cool $1 to $5 million (depending on who's telling the story) off of them. "Wait, she sued because coffee was hot? And she was driving with it between her legs? What did she expect? Anyone can sue for anything these days."

Guess what? That story is almost completely false. I mean, Stella Liebeck did have hot coffee spill on her. That part is true. But here's what's not. Liebeck wasn't driving. The 79 year old was in the passenger seat of her grandson's car. He pulled into a parking spot, where she was trying to add cream and sugar to her coffee. The car didn't have cupholders, so she put it between her legs, and when she pulled the lid off, it spilled all over her.

The spilled coffee wasn't just unpleasant; it was served at nearly 190 degrees, which caused 3rd degree burns over 6% of her body, required multiple skin grafts, necessitated further care after she left the hospital, and left her permanently disfigured. She originally tried to settle with McDonald's and asked for $20,000; they responded with an offer of $800.

At that point, she hired an attorney who discovered that 1) McDonald's required franchisees to serve coffee between 180-190 degrees 2) no other coffee in the city was served at more than 160 degrees 3) 190 degree liquid causes third degree burns in less than 3 seconds and would burn the mouth if consumed at that temperature 4) 160 degree liquid takes over 20 seconds to cause third degree burns and 5) McDonald's had been sued over SEVEN HUNDRED times in the prior decade for coffee being too hot and had settled up to $500,000 in cases and been told to lower the temperature.

Ultimately, McDonald's refused an arbitrator's suggestion of a $225,000 settlement and the case went to trial, where a jury ultimately awarded Liebeck $200,000 in compensatory damages, and $2.7 million in punitive damages. "A ha!," you sa, "so she still got millions! That's still frivolous!" Well...no.

First, the jury found Liebeck was 20% at fault, so the compensatory damages were reduced by that amount, to $160,000. Then the judge reduced the punitive damages to three times the compensatory, or $480,000, for a total of $640,000. We don't know how much Liebeck got because they eventually settled for less than $600,000, but between medical expenses and legal fees, it's a FAR cry from the millions she got for a slightly warmed leg in the well-known story.

So how did this become so legendary? Simple. McDonald's knew the case was going poorly, so it looked to the one thing it had that Liebeck didn't: a bully pulpit. They started a massive PR effort that was basically a smear campaign, painting Liebeck as some irresponsible scofflaw trying to take their hard-earned money. And it worked, to the point that the annual "awards" for frivolous lawsuits are known as "The Stellas."

As for Liebeck? The then 81 year old didn't have the money, platform, or desire to fight back, and used the money to pay for a live-in nurse. She watched company after company use her case as an excuse for tort reform, to stop the big bad consumers from hurting the poor, poor multinational billion dollar corporations, before passing in 2004 at age 91."

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid021Lfd937eiZt1XprMuMMjjDEaUwG8qC97ENcgpoGfCd2rhczgPjW7RSDybjDU3iZ2l&id=5708003

[liberalsarecool]

When Republicans/Federalists say tort reform, they mean Trump can file the most frivolous cases, and they dont care one bit.

The rule of law should always be used to stop these Republican hypocrites.

[tanadrin]

law and economics-type conservatives aren’t just partisan hacks hiding behind insight porn (though they are that, too), they are self-evidently liars who believe in nothing, because they will support tort reform and limiting damages for corporate malfeasance and come up with elaborate policy justifications as to why this won’t have severe public policy consequences when it turns out you can dump basically unlimited quantities of crude oil in prince william sound with no consequences, and then turn around and endorse three strikes laws, which take the exact opposite tack (the only way to ensure law-abiding behavior is to increase punishment without limit), despite the raft of social science showing such legislation is totally ineffective at deterring crime

because what’s really underlying their decisions is the same loose bundle of biases that governs most people’s initial appraisal of similar situations: deference to preexisting structures of power (Exxon is rich and important; therefore Exxon can’t be punished too harshly), contempt for the powerless (anybody actually at risk of being punished by a three-strikes law), and an energetic desire to create a post-hoc rationalization for this worldview, even if it makes no sense under the ideology that they themselves espouse

and that’s a forgivable enough sin in your average citizen, who has not thought too deeply about these issues, but for the people who are supposed to be at the apex of the legal profession and who are hailed as luminaries of conservative legal thought, it’s absolutely pathetic. but then again, the strongest intellectual american conservative jurisprudence could produce in recent memory was antonin fucking scalia, a moron with the moral sensibilities of a playground bully, so i guess it’s unfair to expect too much. but i wish onlookers who were not part of the conservative legal movement at least had the intellectual sophistication not to be so frequently taken in by this nonsense.

[theehorsepusssy]

What are some of your favorite documentaries?

Hmmm...

Errol Morris ones like Vernon Fl, Gates of Heaven, Thin Blue Line

one called Sound and Fury about a deaf community

one about tort reform called Hot Coffee

that one about the Scripps spelling bee

Capturing the Friedmans

Only ones I can think of now. Probably more

[azspot]

The policy prescriptions sounded like something out of the 1980s or 1990s — the death penalty as the solution to mass shootings, end the revolving door at prisons, tort reform to cut healthcare costs, fight the war on drugs, more oil drilling and coal, etc.

The Worst Debate Ever?

[benzedrine-calmstheitch]

just saw some troubling posts in a discord server I’m in but I don’t have the brain power left to engage in direct conversation re: interpreting another person’s text and responding so I’m just gonna throw my thoughts here :

you cannot, CANNOT, let your anger and fury at Greg Abbott’s heinous policies and positions transmutate into any position that blames him for being paralyzed, argues he should not receive financial compensation for getting paralyzed, or any other form of ableism against him. I mean, I guess you can, arguably, but I find it an inherently unethical stance, and it also undermines any sort of argument one could make to be in favor of universal healthcare and UBI (which I also find to be baseline ethical things to be for, more or less).

Yes, he supported the tort reforms in Texas that put limits on damages plaintiffs can receive, which makes it very unlikely a future Texan unfortunate enough to be in a similar situation that he was in will be able to have the same level of financial security via a settlement (although I do think it’s worth noting that he had no direct involvement in the passing of these reforms - both of these were done by Legislature). And it is fucking garbage that he doesn’t think other Texans deserve financial security in the face of injury and loss! And yes, there are nine million other awful awful stances he has, and having him in a position of leadership is not just abhorrent on principle but incredibly dangerous. These things ARE infuriating and terrible! He sucks really!

But the thing about universal healthcare is that it is universal. The principle behind it is that no one should have to worry about healthcare costs for any reason. To be in favor of healthcare for all, you must, must recognize that, short of unconditional access to healthcare (as well as related accessibility needs, such as equipment, renovated housing, in-home health care, mobility aids, etc etc), anyone suffering such a devastating and life-altering injury at least getting a settlement that takes care of these ongoing costs, is a good thing. and to be in favor of, again, universal, health care, is to sincerely want that for anyone. no conditions!

Being furious at him is, frankly, how we should feel right now. But that fury simply cannot mean deciding he is to blame in any way for his paralysis. First of all and most importantly, because conceptualizing disability in terms of “blame” just feels like a really, really dangerous thought. This tie back in to the fundamental idea that universal healthcare means exactly that, universal, but is a bit deeper also. Even if the actions Abbott took that led to his injury were ill-advised (and I’m not saying they were, more on that in a moment), he still should have full access to care, because the idea that someone can become unworthy of access to care through their actions is troubling! When we draw lines, someone always has to decide where it is, and if we can draw it once, someone else can redraw it later, and this time you might find yourself on the wrong side of it. We must, must, refuse to allow “fault” to determine access.

Also, and this is just me being pedantic, but I have seen some variance in the recounts of what exactly happened, and I have also seen folks taking those summations and shifting them, just a bit, to make it easier to find him at fault and thus deserving of his disability (this also touches on the whole other concept of disability itself being considered Less Than, which is ofc gross, but I’m not going to dive into that aspect). This is something we all need to be so, so careful about these days. Yes, it does fit your emotional response better if he was out jogging under a big tree while it was actually storming, which I think we can all agree is a Silly Idea. But the little bit I have read says he was jogging after it had stormed; ok, maybe a small difference, but are you telling me you don’t know a single person who would take a run the morning after it had stormed because it was still too dangerous? Suddenly his actions seems less silly and more everyday. Also I read that the homeowner (who himself was a wealthy attorney, which also complicates things!) had been made aware the tree was rotting a year and a half beforehand, and the inspector who told him this recommended the wrong treatment for it. So we have gone from “god this dodo went jogging during a storm under big trees well yeah of course one fell on him” to “oh actually he was just out for a run the day after a storm and a rotten tree that had been improperly treated happened to fall on him in a very bizarre coincidence.” and for the record, I have almost been taken tf out by a tree randomly splitting in two and falling while I was on my daily walk on a sunny day. no idea why and it scared the bejesus out of me, but like. it weirdly happens!

but my point in being pedantic is this : facts fucking matter! changing them, no matter how slightly, to fit the narrative that matches your emotions, is not the route to take, because you end up taking a kind of fucked up stance in the process. this is what we as a culture are fighting so, so much right now. it’s so hard to hold on to nuance, to contextualize and allow for complexity, when we have all been trained by twitter and tiktok and fucking clickbait to be sensational and brief. but my friends, we have to retrain ourselves. we have to do better. We cannot paint in broad strokes, because we will lose the ability to focus on any one thing we can push back on and fight for.

So yes, be angry at Greg Abbott. Be fucking FURIOUS, really. But please, please, know why, and stay focused on that.

[ramblingandpie]

She also went to the bookstore and picked up my Surprise Pre-Order!!!

(When I see a book for pre-order and I want it I email our local bookstore with ZERO idea of when the book is actually coming out and then promptly forget about it so I can surprise myself. Highly recommend! It's enrichment for my enclosure!)

I Am An Adult Who Can Be Trusted To Go Alone To The Library And Not Return With Even More Books (and other lies I tell myself)

[vwildmonk]

Heyo Vwild! If you're taking asks for that new ask meme- 4, 6, 8, 30, 31 for Lin? and E for you :3c

A'right, lets do this!

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

Not as easy as some would think. For all she is a bleeding heart she is a suspicious being. A surprising factor really, for all she seems to willingly give out her trust to many people. She likes people and she cares a lot- but trust is something that takes effort to form and she is always looking in small ways. The world taught her to have caution. There are ways, and she does have different levels of trust- actions that highlight things and make her put her trust in someone. But under the surface there is always an initial level of wariness or caution paired with that care and want to have faith in people. You'll know when she trusts you enough though- or at least you hope you do.

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Flexible.

Laws are there for a reason- but some of those reasons are stupid-ass ones made by those in power with something else going on. In her eyes they should be flexible enough to take account of various circumstances, times, places and people. She works within the law as much as possible, does her best to make Einquell a safer place and that means making sure Justice is dispatched truly and honestly. She has her own guidelines and parts she won’t cross specifically because she does not want to go over the line of taking the law into her own hands (and she outsources with who she trusts to help her with her guidelines/morals- even if she doesn't outright say as such).

She’s a Licensed detective and really does Try not to go full vigilante- adherre to toon laws and practices and justice- genuinely do her job well as The Detective/Detective Stagehand. But sometimes those laws need to be budged or circumvented or the fine-prints and lines toed; thwart a minor criminal and then let them go, interrogate and find information and then help hide the person better, hear out the situation and then act as best suited. She believes in reformation and rehabilitation more than jail- even if she does put people in cuffs so that the proper court system she is placing faith in can handle them, and if that answer is jail then it is jail.

At the end of the day, her duty is to the people of Einquell, not a system. She cares for the individuals, especially those that slip through the cracks- and she’ll do what’s right for them. At their service. All a real solid reason why she is ‘chaotic’ and not ‘lawful’.

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child Ol Tort and Auntie Mao did their full best, as with all the family, to encourage more than stop- to try and be good role models who didn’t crush anything. To make sure she never felt ashamed of any of her quirks or make her feel forced to do something. If something became a problem she was sat down like a grown up with her own professional cup and things talked over. Ways to help found, reasons for stuff searched for. That said it was probably for her to stop racing around the entire hub when it was nap time or using too much strength or- “how did y’get dusty AGAIN we just undustyied y’- stop going out and rolling in the dustbath it’s time for chilli”

... “Never stop being yerself, and never stop coming home t' this here Hub- y’re loved here, and it will always be yours.”

30.  Who do they most regret meeting? 

The Thing.

They changed her life in ways that will forever be present, ways she's still learning of. She doesn’t regret going on that case- it had to be her. But so much changed because of them, sometimes she mourns who she would have been had they never crossed paths… she perhaps would have never gone to that Corn Maze though if she hadn’t been at that point of tired or confused… would never have met the best people in her life or been here to help now. So in the end, well.

She surprisingly doesn't regret meeting folks other than that as far as I can think- her regrets lie elsewhere, and are being put to bed.

31.  Who are they the most glad to have met? 

Network. Network is special beyond all measures. She's glad she got to be there to bring her Sweetheart into being. Her heart-and-hearth, her literal soulmate. Network means more than she can put into words to her, glad doesn't begin to cover it.

Second to that? The Corn-maze crew. Hands down, point blank. If she hadn’t met them- she wouldn’t be here. They brought something irreplaceable into her life and started everything for her- brought her back to herself and helped her grow in a way she didn’t think was possible anymore. They made her Lin again, and she loves herself now because of them.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Morski, for all I have put this monkey and her found-family through now and with hidden lore and everything else? This monkey would MAUL me and we both know it. Would I get along with her if she didn’t know that? Highly probably- we’d vibe. Pleasant chaos and food and mutual love of many people. But the moment she figured out WHO I was I would be the consistency of mince meat going into a chilli and the rest of our angst gremlin gang of DnD buddies would be going into hiding.

[oklahomapartisan]

God Pleased With Gay Marriage Ban: ‘No More Tornadoes’ Says Placated Deity

By Ernie W. Marland, Partisan Staff Reporter If Oklahoma votes in favor of a constitutional ban on same-sex marriage, God will stop pelting the state with tornadoes. “If I look down and see that homosexuals are behind denied the same civil rights and privileges that heterosexuals enjoy, then we’ll be okay,” the Judeo-Christian deity said in a joint press conference with Sen. James Williamson, R-Tulsa.

“But if I see a separation of church and state, something’s getting wiped out.”

Republican leadership has been in talks with God throughout the session, working to broker a deal wherein the often-unpredictable supernatural entity would stop pelting the state with tornadoes, drought and other so-called “acts of God.” Federal law requires the state to enter into compacts with divine beings regarding Class III natural disasters, such as tornadoes, earthquakes and famine. God’s Class II disasters, such as a 1200% increase in meth use and the hemorrhaging of high-paying jobs, remain unregulated. However, God said he may reward the state if the Bible’s 612 other amendments are enshrined in state law.

“Yeah, I said homosexual love was an abomination, but I didn’t say it was any worse than any other abomination,”

he said. “What’s with all the hetero-textile clothing? In Leviticus 19:19, I specifically said ‘Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind: thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed: neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woollen come upon thee.’ Yet I look around and I see all sorts of hybrid cattle and a lot of people wearing linen-cotton blends. What’s up with that?” In response to the voice of God, Rep. Bill Graves, R-Oklahoma City, is crafting legislation to enshrine the entire book of Leviticus in the Oklahoma Constitution. A reprieve from tornadoes backs up Williamson’s claim that a gay marriage ban would help economic development in Oklahoma. Democrats had previously disputed that argument based on the fact that it made no friggin’ sense. Williamson said the lack of God’s wrath would drive down insurance prices which, along with right-to-work and tort-reform, will function as a panacea for the troubled state. “If Oklahomans don’t take a stand against civil rights, we’ll soon end up like the God-forsaken hellhole that is Massachusetts,” Williamson said. So far this year, God has punished Massachusetts with a standard-of-living and per-capita income far above Oklahoma’s, as well as much lower rates of crime, teenage pregnancy, obesity and suicide.

[dankxsinatra]

Insurance companies set the price so they can 'negotiate down' as part of their service. Medical service providers who don't involve insurance companies (and open themselves up to huge legal liability) can sell products for way cheaper. An article I read on it years ago said a $90 blood test with insurance becomes like $7 without.

Wuht???

I was just talking to a former coworker who now works for a local home medical supply store. It's not an independent entity it's owned by the some healthcare network that owns the hospital I work at. Anyway I told her about how I no longer do business with them for home cpap supplies. Anything I need I can get cheaper off the internet paying cash than buying from them using my insurance. She said that they "can't undercut the insurance company." Like... WTF does that even mean???? Wouldn't insurance companies want you to sell at a cheaper price so they don't have to pay out as much. WTF is going on?????

[economics-around-you]

CSEET Nov Exam 2024: Important Topics You Need to Know

CSEET Nov Exam 2024: Important Topics You Need to Know 

As the Company Secretary Executive Entrance Test (CSEET) Nov 2024 approaches, students are gearing up for one of the most critical exams on their journey to becoming successful Company Secretaries. To help you streamline your preparation, we’ve compiled the important topics that you need to focus on for the CSEET November exam. Success Edge Academy has carefully analyzed the exam pattern and syllabus to provide you with a detailed overview of key topics that will boost your preparation and help you score well. 

Overview of CSEET Nov 2024 

The CSEET is the first step towards the prestigious Company Secretary qualification, conducted by the Institute of Company Secretaries of India (ICSI). It tests candidates on their proficiency in subjects like business communication, legal aptitude, economic and business environment, and current affairs. The exam is divided into four papers, and each has its own set of important topics that you must master. 

Exam Format: 

Duration: 120 minutes 

Total Marks: 170 

Subjects Covered: Four sections 

Passing Marks: 50% aggregate, with at least 40% in each paper 

Subject-Wise Important Topics for CSEET Nov 2024 

1. Business Communication 

The first paper is all about testing your communication skills and your knowledge of business correspondence. Here are the key topics: 

Essentials of Good Communication: Understand the different forms of communication, its barriers, and how to overcome them. Focus on verbal and non-verbal communication, active listening, and feedback. 

Business Correspondence: Letters, circulars, reports, and meeting minutes. Be well-versed in the formats and structure of these documents. 

Presentation Skills: Learn the essentials of making effective presentations. Focus on PowerPoint presentation tips, voice modulation, and body language. 

Official Communication: Study official correspondence formats such as memos, notices, and resolutions. Drafting resolutions and reports is critical. 

Grammar and Vocabulary: Pay attention to sentence correction, fill-in-the-blanks, and antonyms/synonyms. 

2. Legal Aptitude and Logical Reasoning 

This section tests your understanding of the basics of law and your logical thinking. The important topics include: 

Indian Constitution: Focus on fundamental rights, duties, and directive principles. Articles relating to the Union and State Governments are particularly important. 

Contract Law: Study the essentials of contracts, void agreements, breach of contracts, and contract remedies. 

Company Law Basics: Memorize the incorporation of a company, memorandum and articles of association, types of companies, and roles of directors. 

Criminal Law and Torts: Focus on IPC (Indian Penal Code) and the Law of Torts, with specific emphasis on negligence and defamation. 

Logical Reasoning: Study coding-decoding, puzzles, syllogisms, and blood relations to enhance your logical reasoning skills. Practice is the key for this section. 

3. Economic and Business Environment 

The third section covers the fundamentals of economics and the impact of global and Indian economic developments on business. 

Basic Concepts of Economics: Study topics like demand and supply, price determination, elasticity, and market structures. 

Indian Economy Overview: Focus on economic reforms, industrial policies, and major financial institutions like SEBI, RBI, and the Finance Ministry. 

International Trade and Organizations: Understand the significance of organizations like WTO, IMF, and World Bank. Know about the balance of payments, foreign exchange reserves, and international trade agreements. 

Business Environment: Study business cycles, the impact of liberalization, privatization, and globalization. Focus on recent business and economic developments in India. 

Micro and Macro Economics: Be thorough with GDP, inflation, fiscal policies, and monetary policies. 

4. Current Affairs, Presentation & Communication Skills (Viva Voce) 

This section tests your general awareness and presentation skills. 

Current Affairs: Focus on recent government policies, national and international events, major business news, and appointments in the corporate sector. Go through significant mergers, acquisitions, and new product launches. 

Corporate Governance: Understand the principles of corporate governance, ethics, and CSR initiatives. 

National & International Organizations: Know about the UN, WTO, and other important international bodies. Current events in the corporate and economic world are critical for this section. 

Presentation Skills (Viva Voce): Be prepared to deliver short presentations on contemporary topics. Practice how to present effectively, keeping your audience engaged and staying concise. 

Tips for Exam Preparation 

Time Management: With a time-bound exam like CSEET, managing your time during preparation and on the exam day is crucial. Create a detailed study plan that covers all the important topics mentioned above. 

Mock Tests and Previous Papers: Practice mock tests regularly to get familiar with the exam pattern and time constraints. Solving previous year's question papers can help you identify the type of questions that may be asked. 

Stay Updated with Current Affairs: For the Current Affairs section, stay updated by reading newspapers, business magazines, and watching news channels. Be aware of major national and international business events. 

Group Study Sessions: Discuss difficult concepts and subjects with peers or join a study group. This can help you better understand topics and improve your communication skills for the viva voce. 

Focus on Presentation Skills: Practice in front of a mirror or with friends to boost your presentation and communication skills for the viva voce section. These skills play a vital role in securing good marks. 

How Success Edge Academy Can Help You 

Success Edge Academy is committed to helping students succeed in their CSEET Nov 2024 exam with a structured approach. Here's how we stand out: 

Comprehensive Study Material: Our updated study material is designed to cover all important topics in detail. 

Expert Faculty: Learn from experienced faculty members who are experts in Company Secretaryship. 

Mock Tests & Quizzes: Get access to our mock tests and quizzes that are tailored to match the real exam pattern. 

Personalized Mentorship: Our mentors are available for one-on-one sessions to clear your doubts and provide exam tips. 

Flexible Learning Options: Whether you prefer online or offline learning, we provide a flexible schedule that suits your needs. 

Regular Updates: Stay informed with the latest updates on current affairs and recent legal developments with our weekly newsletters. 

FAQs 

1. How long is the CSEET Nov 2024 exam? 

The CSEET exam is of 120 minutes with four sections. 

2. Is CSEET difficult to pass? 

With the right preparation strategy, focusing on important topics, and taking mock tests, you can clear the exam. 

3. What is the passing criterion for CSEET Nov 2024? 

You need to score at least 50% overall and 40% in each section to pass. 

4. How can Success Edge Academy help me in CSEET preparation? 

Success Edge Academy provides expert coaching, updated study materials, mock tests, and personalized mentoring to help you excel in the exam. 

[tanadrin]

i think the other thing that chaps my ass so much about the american conservative legal movement--as opposed to other flavors of conservatism in politics--is that it seems uniquely pro-business in a way which is totally unprincipled. fedsoc types will twist themselves into knots to help large businesses avoid penalties and lawsuits even when there’s basically no case to be made, on legal or public policy grounds, conservative or progressive--i think the exxon valdez oil spill and the final legal outcome there is a good example. heck, tort reform generally--like you could make a conservative argument that a regulatory state is expensive, we don’t want to pay for it, we think people suing businesses only when actual harm occurs is better for society. i think that’s wrong, incidentally; i think it means that only people with money have access to the law, and it means that companies that sell dangerous products or break the law are much less likely to suffer consequences. but that’s definitely a consistent way you can argue society should be arranged, and is frequently the option u.s. lawmakers have gone with.

but the conservative legal response to this has been, “hmm, this looks too much like businesses actually having to follow the law,” and then to push for tort reform to drastically limit punitive damages, so that even when firms do sell dangerous products or otherwise break the law, they don’t suffer significant consequences, because damages are capped at an absurdly low level. this gets cast as fat-cat plaintiffs somehow unjustly enriching themselves, even though the whole point of punitive damages is, well, punitive, to disincentivize certain behavior! and this money only goes to defendants because in a civil suit there’s no one else for it to go to--we explicitly opted for this regulatory model when we decided we weren’t going to have the government step in and fine these companies directly!

(the response to this, by the way, was mandatory arbitration clauses; but nowadays firms have decided that even arbitration favors plaintiffs too much, which is a self-evidently absurd thing to say, since companies largely get to pick and choose the terms of arbitration. so conservative legal movement types are hard at work trying to come up with ways to further favor companies in arbitration, because the alternative--allow companies to actually be incentivized to break the law less--is too absurd to contemplate)

by and large, i do not think many americans who are conservative are pro-business, except in the weak sense that they are broadly authoritarian and business is historically one of many local forms of baronial authority in society. but for modern, large firms, both the distribution of power and the ways which you might want to rein it in to prevent or mitigate negative externalities (like environmental disasters or risks to consumer health) are not naturally aligned with any ideology except what might loosely be termed a “pro-business” ideology. it’s not even a classical liberal/libertarian ideology, though, because it’s not an ideology which promotes competition of free markets--conditions under which competition and free markets flourish are very different from conditions under which sprawling, highly-integrated firms flourish!

it’s a bad and incoherent set of policies unless you are ideologically in favor of rent extraction and government corruption--so it masquerades as conservatism, but could probably just as easily cast itself as progressive if that particular political coalition broke down.