#(and that is not an indictment against you as a person)

[gailynovelry]

I don’t like getting intense over petty things, but why are people calling large paragraphs “bad formatting” now. It’s just formatting. Sometimes, a larger paragraph serves its text well, and sometimes it doesn’t, and there is a LOT more that goes into making a text block readable than length alone.

Please please please fucking please stop inventing all-encompassing arbitrary rules about what features define “good” art and “bad” art.

[cntarella]

as a Lolita lover on this website, i suffer more than jesus daily whenever i see a piss poor take on that book

[jingerpi]

the thing about minorities being rude online is it's usually a defense mechanism to keep terfs/racists/general bigots away and is not, in fact, a moral indictment of the person's character. not that everyone who acts mean has to be secretly niceys in real life but I feel it's worth mentioning that a lot of us are, you'd probably be surprised how many people who express violent sentiment against bigotry are super kind and chill people. it's just you know, bigotry is bad, and if you aren't vocally abrasive to bigots there are genuine and dangerous consequences.

[maxtermind]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[cleolinda]

Are the Trump indictments election interference? asked someone whose question I will take in good faith against my better judgment.

The American presidential election (November 5, 2024) is more than a year away. There is more than a whole year for these four (4) trials to occur. If candidates want to start campaigning (and have already been campaigning) year(s) in advance, that is not the American judicial system's problem. Do not let anyone tell you that "I DECLARE CAMPAIGN SO YOU CAN'T TOUCH ME" is how this works.

I welcome criminal charges of actual substance for any candidate of any party. If you have dozens of pages of carefully documented charges against any/all Democrats, please have a DA call a grand jury whenever you would like. Political parties are not sports teams to me. Justice can do what it gotta do, whether it's convenient or not.

If someone doesn't want to get pulled up on racketeering charges (RICO), they maybe shouldn’t have racketeered. Or falsified business records, or mishandled documents to the tune of 31 charges under the Espionage Act, or incited an insurrection, the latter of which, I don't know about you, but which I personally watched on TV, live, for several hours, including coverage of the Trump rally that sent crowds marching over to the Capitol. We have heard the Georgia phone call that is part of the fourth indictment. We have seen pictures of classified documents piled in a random Mar-a-Lago bathroom. I am confident that these are not frivolous accusations.

District Attorney Fani Willis was careful to state that there should be a presumption of innocence (a standard American judicial doctrine). That said, I consider (as one example), this fourth indictment to be “charges of actual substance” because she delivered a 96-page document describing the racketeering (which, ironically, WAS ITSELF ELECTION INTERFERENCE):

u/code_archaeologist: The math on this is easy. For a jury to find a person guilty on a RICO charge in Georgia the prosecutor has to prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that they engaged in two incidents that predicated the overarching conspiracy. The RICO charge lists 161 predicating incidents. So Fani Willis has 161 shots at each defendant, and only has to hit twice.

(I like to read r/politics.)

Fani Willis has 161 predicating incidents of conspiracy to work with. I am pretty confident that, while a defendant is innocent until proven guilty in the American justice system, these charges have some weight and deserve to be heard in court.

tl;dr if you don't want to campaign under a legal cloud, don't do crimes.

Also try not to publicly intimidate witnesses. And prosecutors. And judges.

If anyone reading this truly wondered if the substance or timing of these proceedings are warranted, sincerely, I hope laying it out like this helped.

[artbyblastweave]

The beat that always stuck with me in regards to Uber and Leet was when Taylor mentions that they beat up sex workers on livestream while LARPing Grand Theft Auto. Uber and Leet get a lot of mentions before they actually show up, and the drumbeat is that they're pathetic, they're fodder, "as incompetent as supervillains can be while staying out of jail." Leet is the butt of a rom-com gag where Brian gives Taylor pointers on how to choke a man out more effectively. But they made money by beating up sex workers on livestream. That's a non-negligible number of potentially ruined lives! That's not softball fun-and-games! It's like textbook misogynistic violence against the marginalized! It's awful!

The narrative doesn't really dwell on this, because it's told almost exclusively from the perspective of people who have the firepower necessary to get away with treating Uber and Leet like jokes. But I think that it's a useful reminder that if you aren't one of the initiated, so to speak, then an encounter with the C-list, D-list, Z-list supervillain can be life-altering if not life-ending. The dumbest listicle-fodder DC or Marvel villain you've ever heard of has probably ruined at least one person's life over their handful of appearances, if not more. And it's an early indictment of the broad concept of the unwritten rules as advanced by Lisa, where she calls out Uber and Leet as the textbook example of villains kept in circulation because they're "amusing but harmless." This is within parameters? This doesn't merit heroes and villains putting aside their differences to clean house of problematic elements? Of course it doesn't. Both examples that Lisa gives of that dynamic in 3.6 involve a cape transgressing against another cape.

[simply-ivanka]

Trump’s Trial Violated Due Process

Trump was denied notice of the charges, meaningful opportunity to respond and proof of all elements.

By 

David B. Rivkin Jr. and Elizabeth Price Foley

Wall Street Journal

Whether you love, hate or merely tolerate Donald Trump, you should care about due process, which is fundamental to the rule of law. New York’s trial of Mr. Trump violated basic due-process principles.

“No principle of procedural due process is more clearly established than that notice of the specific charge,” the Supreme Court stated in Cole v. Arkansas (1948), “and a chance to be heard in a trial of the issues raised by that charge, if desired, [is] among the constitutional rights of every accused in a criminal proceeding in all courts, state or federal.” In in re Winship (1970), the justices affirmed that “the Due Process Clause protects the accused against conviction except upon proof beyond a reasonable doubt of every fact necessary to constitute the crime with which he is charged.” These three due-process precepts—notice, meaningful opportunity to defend, and proof of all elements—were absent in Mr. Trump’s trial.

The state offense with which Mr. Trump was indicted, “falsifying business records,” requires proof of an “intent to defraud.” To elevate this misdemeanor to a felony, the statute requires proof of “intent to commit another crime.” In People v. Bloomfield (2006), the state’s highest court observed that “intent to commit another crime” is an indispensable element of the felony offense.

New York courts have concluded that the accused need not be convicted of the other crime since an “intent to commit” it is sufficient to satisfy the statute. But because that intent is, in the words of Winship, “a fact necessary to constitute the crime,” it is an element of felony falsification. Due process requires that the defendant receive timely notice of the other crime he allegedly intended to commit. It also requires that he have opportunity to defend against that accusation and that prosecutors prove beyond a reasonable doubt his intent to commit it.

Mr. Trump’s indictment didn’t specify the other crime he allegedly intended to commit. Prosecutors didn’t do so during the trial either. Only after the evidentiary phase of the trial did Judge Juan Merchan reveal that the other crime was Section 17-152 of New York’s election law, which makes it a misdemeanor to engage in a conspiracy “to promote or prevent the election of any person to a public office by unlawful means.”

To recap, the prosecution involved (1) a misdemeanor elevated to a felony based on an “intent to commit another crime,” (2) an indictment and trial that failed to specify, or present evidence establishing, another crime the defendant intended to commit, and (3) a jury instruction that the other crime was one that necessitated further proof of “unlawful means.” It’s a Russian-nesting-doll theory of criminality: The charged crime hinged on the intent to commit another, unspecified crime, which in turn hinged on the actual commission of yet another unspecified offense.

To make matters worse, Judge Merchan instructed the jury: “Although you must conclude unanimously that the defendant conspired to promote or prevent the election of any person to a public office by unlawful means, you need not be unanimous as to what those unlawful means were.”

Due process demands that felony verdicts be unanimous, but in Schad v. Arizona (1991), a murder case, the high court indicated that there need not be unanimity regarding the means by which a crime is committed. But a plurality opinion by Justice David Souter cautioned that if the available means of committing a crime are so capacious that the accused is not “in a position to understand with some specificity the legal basis of the charge against him,” due process will be violated. “Nothing in our history suggests that the Due Process Clause would permit a State to convict anyone under a charge of ‘Crime’ so generic that any combination of jury findings of embezzlement, reckless driving, murder, burglary, tax evasion, or littering, for example, would suffice for conviction,” Justice Souter wrote.

Justice Antonin Scalia concurred, observing that “one can conceive of novel ‘umbrella’ crimes (a felony consisting of either robbery or failure to file a tax return) where permitting a 6-to-6 verdict would seem contrary to due process.” Four dissenting justices argued that the In re Winship precedent requires unanimity regarding all elements of a crime, including the means by which it’s committed.

All nine justices in Schad, then, believed unanimity is required to convict when the means by which a crime can be committed are so broad that the accused doesn’t receive fair notice of the basis of the charge. New York’s election law requires that the violation occur “by unlawful means,” so any “unlawful” act—including, in Scalia’s example, either robbery of failure to file a tax return—can qualify. That’s clearly overbroad. Thus, Judge Merchan’s instruction that the jury “need not be unanimous as to what those unlawful means were” was unconstitutional.

That isn’t all. Judge Merchan hand-selected three laws—federal election law, falsification of “other” business records and “violation of tax laws”—as the “unlawful means” by which state election law was violated. Mr. Trump received no notice of any of these offenses, and the prosecutor briefly alluded only to federal election law, during the trial. Mr. Trump tried to call former Federal Election Commission Chairman Brad Smith to explain why this law wasn’t violated, but Judge Merchan ruled Mr. Smith couldn’t testify on whether Mr. Trump’s conduct “does or does not constitute a violation” of federal election law, denying him a meaningful opportunity to be heard.

Judge Merchan’s second “unlawful” means, falsification of other business records, is circular: A misdemeanor becomes a felony if one falsifies business records by falsifying business records. Further, the prosecution never alleged or provided evidence that Mr. Trump falsified “other” business records. The prosecutors likewise neither alleged nor offered evidence that Mr. Trump had violated tax laws, Judge Merchan’s third predicate.

Mr. Trump, like all criminal defendants, was entitled to due process. The Constitution demands that higher courts throw out the verdict against him. That takes time, however, and is unlikely to occur before the election. That unfortunate reality will widen America’s political divide and fuel the suspicion that Mr. Trump’s prosecution wasn’t about enforcing the law but wounding a presidential candidate for the benefit of his opponent.

Mr. Rivkin served at the Justice Department and the White House Counsel’s Office during the Reagan and George H.W. Bush Administrations. Ms. Foley is a professor of constitutional law at Florida International University College of Law. Both practice appellate and constitutional law in Washington.

[prozach27]

As someone who has had posts supporting Kamala Harris in the 2024 election receive an influx of attention, I think it’s worth mentioning that this leads to a number of accounts 1) sending me copy and pasted, word for word indictments of her not letting Palestinians speak at the DNC, and 2) reblogging the post to state that people who support democrats are racist because democrats “support genocide” - despite my post arguing that democrats shouldn’t be trusted to have our best interest in mind and that they’re complicit in genocide but more likely to capitulate to demands than a Trump administration. Interestingly, those who reblog to talk about how white democrats supporting Kamala are racist also have never offered a single alternate option, have no candidates they’re recommending, and offer no ways to support Palestine during their critique.

I am BEGGING you all to recognize election interference when it is this blatant. Do you know who is most likely to become concerned about voting based on this messaging? White liberals in their teens and 20s who make up a significant portion of the Democratic voting population. Do you know who falls victim to people concerned about how “Harris won’t let Palestinians speak” at the DNC? Liberals who care about Palestine, which is DEMONSTRABLY the largest portion of the voting base. We will never have a viable candidate for president who presses for everything we want against Israel since they’re one of our closest allies for decades. Regardless, voting for president isn’t about voting for who’s the best person - it’s about voting for the enemy you want in office to fight against in meeting your demands. You have Trump, who has told Israel to finish the job, and Harris, who has repeatedly discussed ceasefires and resolutions. If your politics see those two positions as no different, tell that to the Palestinian lives who will be saved in a ceasefire brokered by the US.

Tumblr is once again home to election interference, and I am asking you to please recognize the signs that accounts are preying upon potential Democratic voters to get Trump in office and make things exponentially worse. Question why someone is railing against Harris while offering no alternative. Ask yourself, “who is it this person is telling me to support in the election, how viable is their preferred candidate to win, and why do they think they’re better?” If a post tearing down Harris can’t meet these basic requirements, assume it’s election interference and report it. Better yet, reblog this post and tag blogs who continually fail to meet these requirements so people can block them. We need to be aware that this is happening. It’s time to combat it as a community.

[robertreich]

5 Facts About Trump’s Indictments

Trump’s defenders are still lying about his indictments. Here are 5 crucial facts you can share with whoever in your life needs to hear them.

1. President Biden did not indict Trump.

Four different grand juries — made up of ordinary citizens — indicted Trump after being presented with evidence they found compelling enough to warrant criminal prosecution.

The reason we have grand juries is specifically to help make sure no one gets prosecuted out of a personal vendetta.

2. This isn’t about “free speech”

In all four cases, Trump has been indicted because of what he allegedly did, not what he said. Lots of crimes involve speech, but that doesn’t stop them from being crimes. Even Trump’s hand-picked attorney general, Bill Barr, recognizes this defense is nonsense.

3. It doesn’t matter whether Trump believed the election was stolen

There’s plenty of evidence that Trump knew he lost the election fair and square. His claims of massive fraud were rejected by his own campaign manager, White House lawyers, and his hand-picked Justice Department officials. 

And privately, Trump seemed to admit that he either knew or didn’t care that his claims were false, allegedly criticizing VP Pence for being “too honest,” and allegedly admitting to his Chief of Staff Mark Meadows that he lost and wanted to cover it up.

But even if Trump really did believe the election was stolen, that doesn’t give him the right to allegedly commit a criminal conspiracy to try to steal it back.

4. Trump has received preferential treatment because of who he is.

Trump’s defenders complain about a two-tiered justice system.

They’re right about that, but not in the way they claim. Trump has been given special privileges most criminal defendants would never get.

In all four criminal cases, he has been released without bail. He has repeatedly been spared the indignity of a mugshot. He has not had his passport suspended or had limits placed on his ability to travel — even though two of his criminal cases involve direct threats to national security, and even though he has used social media to issue insults and threats against potential witnesses, behavior that would cause many criminal defendants to be held without bail pending trial.

5. Trump was in legal trouble long before entering politics

Some of Trump’s defenders claim the sheer number of criminal charges and civil suits he’s now facing is proof that he’s being targeted for political reasons. But you have to remember that Trump was the subject of about 4,000 legal actions before ever running for president. From his fraudulent Trump University scam to federal lawsuits over racist housing discrimination, Trump has spent his life in court because of his own shady behavior.

Trump is being prosecuted now because, as four grand juries have found, the strength of the evidence against him merits it. If we fail to hold him fully accountable under the law, the precedent will embolden future presidents to break the law, jeopardize national security, incite insurrections, and possibly even overturn an election.

The principle that no one is above the law is only true if we make it so.

[edwardsissyhandsthtdanceslikeabb]

why exactly is geto such a good character?

(not compared to naoya but using naoya as an example lol. i have no opinion on naoya other than that hes apparently a misogynist but some ppl like him for some reason idk.)

geto is arguably jjk's best written character —which isnt an indictment of naoya but an anime only's premature opinion lol— and a testament to jjk's initial narrative strength. reducing geto's motives down to toji massively undermines the layers that catalyzed his breakdown, which ultimately, was loss and disempowerment leading him to break. it was him being unable to reconcile his moralistic outlook with the mechanistic nature of jujutsu society and the utter dehumanization it demanded of its sorcerers, it was his disdain for the self-sustaining nature of human vice and negativity and its perpetuation of their system of futile sacrifice and loss.

this disdain stems from the bleak reality of being surrounded by its grimiest depths, by the thanklessness of choosing platitudes and lofty ideals for those who spit in your face for it, who exploit you, objectify you. which is why amanai dying is what truly began his undoing, the personification of everything he believed to be worth fighting for snuffed unthinkingly by those he's told are too feeble to know better. its the malignance of pure ppl like haibara dying while evil endures, of the godless nature of being a sorcerer, and how its ungoverned and unphased by any morality or goodness or purity. and why it ended with him discovering the girls in the cage, the most innocent of society, who couldn't have possibly deserved it, who were persecuted for their nature, the actual people endangered for it. its him flipping the ontological framework jujutsu society operates on, questioning why they have to pay for humanity's vices and fallibility, why they cant fight back too, prioritize their own pitfalls, and thusly him giving gravitas to humanity's evil underbelly. while also recognizing the strength and brilliance of sorcerers and choosing to be selfish with this excellence, self-serving instead of self flagellatory, not leaving them to be fed to the beast of human weakness but instead unabashed in their talents and strength. bc at every turn he's told to temper himself, to fight for goodness, but is only ever met with cruelty, haunted by sorcerers' disenfranchisement looming over him.

contradictory to his newfound ideals, geto chooses family and love by vowing to sacrifice humanity instead, he reframes gojo and all those relegated cogs in the jujutsu machine to the ppl really worth fighting for, as precious enough to matter, to be sacrificed for. its why he forms a pseudo family while pursuing his plans, and why he embodies such a performative personality thereafter, bc ideals consume geto. he has to expunge himself of humanity and embody hatred bc that's whats contrary to his former ideals and disposition. that's what he thinks he has to be. but when the heart of his wants shine through, when he allows himself grace around those close to his heart, we see the core of who he is and always has been shine through (e.g at his death scene). geto sees vulnerability and sympathy as inherent to humanity and the things indenturing sorcerers to them, despite his fight for sorcerers being grounded in fighting for the weak, but he doesn't want to give into that human aspect to his motivations. he wants to determine his own future, beholden to no one. (e.g the reason he fights against kenjaku, and is given strength by gojo's words)

now naoya very well may be a better character and commentary on jujutsu society than geto, but using his attire as reason for it isnt exactly equivocal to the aforementioned layers i've outlined. geto's brilliance is in how aptly they condensed all these angles relative to his screen time. now that doesnt mean he's beyond critique: his characterization post-defection is a bit too caricatured for me, and amanai wasnt utilized to the extent that she could've been to complicate his motivations and expand/clarify his thoughts on humanity, plus his plan to exterminate humanity is just as futile as his former sorcerer work, but thats the point. that ideals are fallible and often arbitrary, and that being governed by them can be detrimental and self-destructive. geto wanted to protect those he cared abt above everything, and conjured smth just as grand and insurmountable as the jujutsu system to rival it without taking into account how that obfuscated things, that ultimately, ideals weren't ever what was important, but actually those around him. bc in actuality, what he's doing doesnt center them, it centers him. he who literally tasted the rot and gore of humanity, took it into his body and used it as a weapon for their service, until that poison metastasized and he vowed to amputate his brokenness, without realizing that he'd just opted for another poison instead. he's a tragic character.

having said that, you dont have to care abt him. but he's defintely not badly written lol.

[easays]

To Ragh; or, On Fatness

Hi! Below is an actual play mini-essay. These are written as part of a personal writing practice of thinking critically about actual play. I hope you find this reading engaging and know that all I write reflects my own interpretations rather than as an official representation/canonization of these shows. Keep reading for my interpretation of Ragh Barkrock's fatness as part of queer representation in Dimension20.

Ragh Barkrock may be one of the most beloved NPCs in Dimension20. It would be easy for Ragh, a bloodrush player good enough to potentially play professionally, to be presented as hypermasculine. In fact, the freshmen year art for Ragh, when he was antagonist rather than beloved ally, showed him in a muscular, inverted Dorito shaped body typical of a jock.

He's, obviously, built, and his cut jaw and cheekbones only bolster that image. As Ragh comes to terms with being gay at the end of Fantasy High, his countenance changes. When we see him again, the new art reflects a chubbier, happier Ragh.

The show aligning weight gain with acceptance and happiness already works against prevailing stereotypes that use weight loss as a quick metaphor for improving yourself and being the "real you." Moreover, connecting Ragh's acceptance of his sexuality with what seems like a larger comfort in his own body is a strong indictment of hypermasculine gay culture. As Gabriel Arana writes, gay men "must reconcile their sense of masculinity with their failure to conform to its heterosexuality." Not doing so has negative mental health outcomes, as Arana points out, and contributes to a culture that devalues fat queer people (see the popular "no fats, no femmes, no Asians" that often is touted in masculine gay subculture).

All of this, I think, is why Ragh's art for Junior Year was particularly impactful for me as a fat queer person. If being a gay man (or half-Orc, in Ragh's case) means having to situate your life in relationship to failing compulsory masculinity, then it seems there is an inherent queer aspect to embracing, celebrating, and showcasing a beloved NPC in an explicitly fat and happy body.

FHJY Ragh art by @caitmayart

Ragh is still strong and he is still fat. His body radiates a commitment to the power of fat bodies to exist in spaces they are often violently unwelcome in, such as gyms. Existing in gyms and sports spaces as fat people means dealing the "impossible standard that rejects nearly all of us" and upholds a diet culture rooted in impossible, Eurocentric and colonial body standards. In TTRPGS or actual plays, there is a unique opportunity to think about how bodies might exist in worlds different from ours, to imagine bodyminds as otherwise. However, as queer critics like Paul Preciado have noted, sci-fi and fantasy representations of cyborgs and other transformative bodies often lean into "fixing" disabled people or moving gender nonconforming bodies more easily towards technologies upholding a normative standard rather than questioning the standard all together.

Spyre is a world that deals with similar issues to ours, even without direct one-to-one correlations, so it, too, is a place where the narrative and artistic choices should be examined in how it helps us interpolate the world the audience resides in. From the Applebees cultish adherence to a deity-based nationalism to the various representations of parental neglect and abuse and every side story in-between, Dimension20's flagship show does not shy away from difficult realities even when recasting them through fantasy. Ragh, as a half-orc gay son of a disabled single mother, then, I see the arc his fat body goes through as meaningful and intertwined with his self-acceptance and queerness. He moves away from the toxic masculinity engineered into his blood rush team to instead pursue coalition comraderie with his friends to the point that he and his mother end up joining a communal living situation with those friends and their parents. Ragh's body expands as his family does, as his ties to community do, and to me, the gift of his fatness is the invitation to expansion that it holds out to us as viewers.

[deadpresidents]

How scared are you of another Trump Presidency?

Fucking petrified.

I know people think it's hyperbole or an election year exaggeration, but I genuinely think our democracy is on the brink of collapse because of his actions, rhetoric, and the dangerous cult of personality he's been able to indoctrinate tens of millions of Americans to blindly and ignorantly follow. Look no further than the fact that a majority of the Republicans in Congress have endorsed or indicated that they intend to endorse the person who incited an insurrection against the Constitution and against THEM just three years ago. They are supporting a former President who was impeached twice and has been charged with 91 felonies under four separate criminal indictment. That is their standard-bearer. And even if you could strip away all the lying and the criminal charges and the narcissism and the threats and the bizarre behavior, he was still just straight-up shockingly terrible at leading the country and doing the job he was elected to do.

He is a cancer and I'm terrified at the prospect of him being unleashed upon a country that is already very, very sick.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

no like really even without the timeline context of when it leaked Hand of God is so incredibly messed up like???? FOB's always been good at public indictments of the way they've been treated, that's like, a significant amount of their discography especially prehiatus and ESPECIALLY Cork Tree which does it very bitterly and sardonically but Hand of God feels like it takes it a step farther with "which is it, the boy who writes the songs or the boy who's in them?" because like YES there is more than one way to interpret that and I'm cool with that but it's doing a massive disservice to FOB and to Pete's writing to skim over the point within the larger whole of the song that they are one and the same. the boy who writes the songs IS the one who's in them, that's been true for most of Fall Out Boy's career. they're SUPER vulnerable in their songwriting, even when it's sarcastic and tongue in cheek, there's always a piece of truth in it. they wrote an entire fricking song about Pete's suicide attempt. the boy who writes the songs has always been the one who's in them, this isn't mutually exclusive. and Hand of God is IMMENSELY self-referential. it's literally Pete writing about himself. "who's the girl, is this truth, or is he writing fiction?" were all questions asked repeatedly on their forums and in Q&As with Pete.

"I am the worst liar I know" coming from the song that is possibly the most raw, honest draft or demo from Cork Tree — which also contains lyrics such as "we're only liars, but we're the best" (tongue in cheek turnaround of criticisms against the band) and "you only hold me up like this because you don't know who I really am" and "if you say this makes you happy then I'm not the only one lying" and "it's just a matter of time until we're all found out" and "I'll keep singing this lie if you keep believing it" (in a song that was essentially the band's mission statement, for lack of a better term) and "the record won't stop skipping and the lies just won't stop slipping and besides my reputation's on the line" (in a song that Pete himself said was way too personal to play live and has also said was the first half of a story that Hum Hallelujah, which is explicitly about his suicide attempt, later completed) and "I went to sleep a poet and woke up a fraud" (Music or the Misery is on a different edition but the point still stands) and "I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type" (in a song titled sarcastically after the medication Pete overdosed on) — is fricking insane. there's a completely unfiltered, untwisted-into-sarcasm honesty in Hand of God and even though it (rightfully, because it would have been Too Much) didn't make it onto the final album, it functions as as much of a thesis statement as Sophomore Slump does. it functions as as much of a confessional as Dark Alley. Hand of God is at the heart of Cork Tree, practically haunting it, and it isn't even on the album.

[babybutchianthe]

the consistent backlash against the possibility of reading john as a perpetrator of sexual assault, as though the gravitas behind that sort of language is offputting in a way the language used to describe him as an imperialist and war criminal isn't, is an excellent example of how actual incidence of sexual assault is exceptionalised and rendered such a taboo subject that those who've been sexuallt abused are barred from sharing their experiences or seeing them portrayed in fiction. the people who rally against reading john's actions as allegorical for grooming and sexual assault can freely recognise his repeated violations of bodily autonomy, agency, and self-determination committed both within the houses and outside, both directly and via proxy, but they refuse to acknowledge that these actions could be equitable because rape is an unimaginable evil that doesn't happen unless the perpetrator is a deviant of some kind. it's a perspective that refuses to grapple with the nature of imperialism and the violence that the reproduction of its social structures is dependent on because it's easier to look at the horror of a system doing what it is designed to do and say that was the exception, not the rule—to say bad things are done by intrinsically bad people rather than people who were born into systems that make bad things commonplace.

something else about this perspective is that it assumes people reading john this way are trying to incite a paradigm shift and outspoken condemnation of him, but it's the opposite: the resistance to the framing of his behaviour as allegorically predatory and exploitative is born out of a perspective that exceptionalises that, while the perspective that identifies that reading is one that understands this is not an individual issue, but instead one born out of the material conditions of john's time, with the focus instead being on examining why john can justify his actions to himself. by refusing to acknowledge this potential dimension of his character that is well rooted in the text those of the former perspective do very much reduce him in the process, out of the belief that ceding that john does exhibit predatory behaviour would mean he is thus rendered irredeemable—because, again, he would then be a deviant and exceptional individual rather than a person raised in our times and in accordance with imperial social structures that he would later reproduce while forming his empire. the only indictment sought by people highlighting the valid reading of john as a perpetrator of sexual assault is one against the world that moulded him into being able to justify that kind of violation. if you think that reading is somehow fundamentally incompatible with john being a nuanced and three dimensional character then you're part of the problem, in that you think the violence necessary to uphold the status quo cannot be sexual in nature or perpetrated by men that are apparent progressives.

[calico-cheriies]

Hideaway |Soshiro Hoshina x Reader Fanfic|

{Chapter one}

{Masterlist}

{Hideaway Masterlist}

"I want you right here by my side, cuz' I'm dying to see your face. You act like it's something to hideaway,"

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

There it is again.

You could feel your hand slowly travel up to the collar of the lab coat, you pulled at the piece of fabric, trying to find some form of breathing room in the suffocating moment. You had done many practices before with this, that's what the schooling was for... so why did you feel squeamish this time? You turned your back away from the rather gruesome sight, you were somewhat a doctor but more of a forensic pathologist, so you dealt with the aftermath of what happened to those unlucky officers that met their demise with the kaiju's. You shuddered at the thought of meeting such fate, they were monsters who just ravaged cities and took the lives of innocent people, and the officers were just human shields that were trying to protect the people.

You quickly dug through the cabinets in search of a mask. You placed the strings behind your ears and adjusted it, it was one of those late night attacks that the third division had to take care of. You threw on the blue surgical scrub suit and you dug through the box of the gloves to pull over your hands, stretching the glove to go over your hand and up to your wrist. You already had put your hair up and you placed a surgical cap to make sure nothing would entangled into your hair. You finished dressing your up and your ears perked up at the sound of the rustling outside the room, it was at the deepest level of the building due to the grim aura that emitted. You were sure that it was just doctors or nurses working with others to bring the dead down to the morgue until you or your other colleagues could get to them.

Now it was time to get to work, you ignored the continued hectic rustling outside from the attack and you quickly got to work so you could start working on the report you would later write and unfortunately deliver to the families of the victims. You usually let your thoughts wander while you worked, you didn't want to focus too much on the cutting of the bodies and imagining what their last moments looked like. No- you liked to imagine of what the world could be if there was no kaiju. You would've for sure gotten another job, probably something less grim than this...you would have loved to do something in gardening or owning some kind of shop that allowed you to build personal connections. But those were useless dreams in this world- not when the population kept decreasing and the kaiju kept increasing.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed as you kept day dreaming and taking note of the details you gathered. It was the same thing over and over again, the same repeating details that indicted a quick and violent death. You knew you still had a handful to take care of as your other peers did, each body required clean and precise cuts so no major damage was added. Each division had a few forensic pathologists on hand since the attacks could lead to big numbers and it was easy for them to get their hands full.

You kept working, pulling in one after another to try and get through the night. That was the worst time the attacks could've happened, especially since they were picking up as each day passes. Soon they were able to lower the numbers as the hours passed, and you slumped against the counter of the room, your hands slightly shaking from the exhaustion of the repeating cuts and jotting down of notes. You took in a moment to relish the silence that was now prominent, there was no shouts or loud voices nor was there any sounds of life outside of the room. You had already stitched every organ back , or at least of what was left and did your best to try and make the body look someone presentable so the mortician could do their job properly. You placed a cover over the body before rolling the body back to the proper place so it could be transferred to the funeral home.

Now it was time to try and get a little bit of rest, at least after you properly showered. You slowly opened the door and took a peek outside, it was empty and the lights were dim for the night. You made sure not a single person or colleague was around to see you in such a state, so you had rushed to remove the entire attire you were wearing to had some unpleasant splatters from the work. You took a quick glance in the reflection of the windows that you passed by, your hair was messy and unkempt and it stuck to your forehead due to some sweat you accumulated. You didn't want to imagine the lingering smell that probably was coming off of you, the thought was enough to embarrass you to the core.

You quickly rushed through the halls and you rather have taken the stairs up to the top to avoid any interactions with the officers that could have been wandering around from the recent events in the elevators. You wanted to get a few hours of sleep to try and present the reports to your superiors. Of course you never really interacted with them unless it was for work which was just reports.

That's how you liked it.

What you didn't appreciate was colliding with a wall- was the exhaustion finally coming down on you?

It wasn't a wall,

But a man...a really strong man.

You stumbled back, your hands flailing out a bit as you dropped the manila folder with your notes down to the ground. Your back hitting the actual wall this time and your hands were plastered flat against the wall to stable yourself from the forceful contact. A gasp leaving your lips as the person stumbled back only a few steps, you  snapped your head up and squinted to see who you bumped into. The first notable thing was the violet hair that was shaped into a decently bowl cut, and his eyes- they were violet as well. It was beautiful if it wasn't so late at night and when you were in this condition, how embarrassing!

"Yer alright?" Was the first thing the vice commander asked after the initial shock died down, and your  breathing was slightly heavy once you finally responded. "Y...yeah, I'm sorry Vice captain," you were quick to apologize and you dropped to your knees to pick up the thick Manila folder, you cursed under your breath as your hands clumsily picked up the file and you leaned onto the wall for support to pick yourself up. "I hope I'm not bothering you, please have a good night," you bowed your head for a moment, your cheeks reddening as you realized how disgusting you probably looked to him, you were quick to try and walk past him on the other side of the wall.

"Aye," he called out, he found the clumsy girl to be amusing and almost adorable in the way you seemed to try and stay away from him. "Thanks... for what yer do, take care Miss (Y/n)," the way he drawled out your name was enough to make your chest tighten. Seriously- when did you start to enjoy the little accents? Maybe it's was because he was so attractive...?

Your response was just a small squeak, it's like you tried to hum but it came out too high pitch so you just sped up your pace and shut the door once you reached the end of the hall. You wanted to just collapse and curl up until you disappeared from the face of the earth, and you prayed you would never have to see his face again and that your schedule would never align again. That's how it's been for the past while, so this should never happen again.

You failed to realize the vice captain looking back over his shoulder as you left, a small smirk making its way onto his lips as he vowed he would corner you again, as a good vice captain, he should know his colleagues well, right?

{Chapter Two}

—————————————————

[reality-detective]

There will be no mercy given for those that brought harms to the children! Death Penalty for Treason & Crimes Against Humanity.

The voice without a face is Lin Wood and I'll tell you a lot has already been completed. We're in a mop-up situation now. Is there underground tunnel warfare happening? Yes, but it's not deep underground tunnels. There are 1.5-2 million national guardsmen as well as special forces and navy seals spread across the United States right now poised to move to make mass arrest, there are over 200,000 pending sealed indictments. I can't say anymore than that.

Just know the shit is gonna hit the fan in the coming months and it's going to get real ugly before it gets better.

Be prepared, do what you have to do to protect your home and your family, if you need ammo I would be getting it.

I'm here to do what I can for you and humanity, but I do have to watch what I say so I do not compromise the mission.

Stock up on food, water, and personal hygiene items you need to last at least 1 month. After that you'll be ready.

There are other cities that could be affected by the madness coming. Tampa Bay, Orlando, Cleveland, Minneapolis and St. Louis to name a few? 🤔

THIS IS NOT A GAME, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. ⚠️