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miraclesabound · 1 month ago

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The Third of October

Summary: Abby Langdon's intended weekend of relaxation gets thrown out the window when she has to go to the Pitt for a scary respiratory incident. Also on AO3

Characters: Abby Langdon (written as a plus size OC), Robby, Shen, Perlah, Santos, Whitaker, other background characters. Background Frank Langdon/Abby Langdon

Notes: This is heavily inspired by my own experience being hospitalized last year - as such, I've basically cast myself as Abby here - heavy-set, White, two successful pregnancies but the occasional complications. The folks who took care of me in my doctor's office and the ER were great, but the experience was still harrowing. Thankfully, my husband WAS able to be with me as much as possible, and both sets of grandparents were a huge help with the children. This is set a few weeks after Season 1.

Warnings: descriptions of medical/respiratory distress, medical testing and procedures, bodily fluids, concerns about mortality, trying to avert a panic attack. I'm attempting to be realistic, but I know there was stuff going on while I was being treated that I was never actually privy to.

Tags: @bullet-prooflove, @science-hoes, @captainsbestgal, @cosmic-kid-in-motion, @arcane-vagabond, @green-socks, @toxicanonymity , @ozarkthedog , @phoenixhalliwell @passionwillow , @broadwaybaggins

Thursday October 3rd, 2024.

Abby has dealt with her share of coughs, colds, and other respiratory nonsense, so she’s being sincere when she waves off her mother’s worries. “Mama, it’s ok,” she promises. “I’ll be able to rest since you and Dad are taking the kids this weekend, and I’ve got a follow-up appointment back at Direct Care in about an hour.”

Joan Green leans against her daughter’s car door, worry still dotting her face. With how pale Abby is, the bags under her eyes are even more obvious. “If you say so…” Abby had stayed over with the children at her and Peter’s house the night before, and Joan had heard the coughing keeping Abby awake.

“I do,” Abby says, giving Joan a hug. “Just don’t let Tanner and Chrissy watch too much TV?”

Joan hugs her back tight, but she backs off when Abby starts coughing again. “No promises, dearie – but we’ll make sure to get the dynamic duo out to the park for a bit.”

Abby smiles even through the coughing, and when she catches her breath, she nods her understanding. “Maybe it’s good timing that Frank’s already checked in – he can focus on his program, and I can focus on resting.”

If Joan is annoyed by the mention of her son-in-law starting at rehab the day before, she doesn’t show it. She simply squeezes Abby’s hand for good luck, and she waits to go inside the house until she sees Abby’s Honda pull off from Chateau Lane, heading to the highway.

Abby’s annoyance is like humidity clinging to her skin as she drives south out of Butler on PA 8. It’s a beautiful autumn day, and she wishes she wasn’t losing it to this damn lingering cold. The cough has been with her for nearly three weeks now – it showed up soon after Frank confessed to her what he’d been doing at the hospital. However, she’d been pushing through – coordinating with Robby and her parents to make sure that Frank could get into care and that the kids would be ok.

She’s proud of her effort, but she suspects that all that running around wasn’t helpful. She’s always been plump, and she knows that even if she were slender, her exercise regimen has gone to shit since Chrissy was born. Point being, her lungs are not what they used to be.

That annoyance morphs into concern as she passes the 228 turnoff – she realizes that her breaths have been shallow, and a slight bump in the road jolts her like someone slapping her right in the chest. Ok, not a problem yet, but good thing she’s getting to an appointment anyway….right?

Over the next fifteen miles, it’s like someone reaches into Abby’s head and chest and starts slowly tightening a vice…or even a noose. The coughs are coming more quickly now, and after each cough, Abby swears her head and chest are going to burst into flames from lack of oxygen.

By the time she gets to the bridge over the Allegheny, her world has shrunk to herself, her car, and her destination. All she can think of is that she has to get Direct Care so that she doesn’t pass out.

As she drives past the back side of the zoo, she prays that she doesn’t end up hurting anyone – thankfully the traffic lights end up being in her favor.

She’s not sure how she even remembers to lock her car when she parks in the Direct Care lot – hell, she doesn’t know how she’s staying on her feet as she stumbles into the building. Her heart is pounding in her ears, her guts are twisting, sweat is pouring down her face… it’s only with assistance from Roseanne, the desk clerk, that she’s able to get to a bathroom before she throws up.

To her credit, Roseanne asks only very basic questions. Her main focus is on getting Abby into a wheelchair and upstairs to a spare room. There a nurse named Pam takes over and evaluates Abby’s sats – both Pam and Abby stare in shock as they see her O2 sitting at only 84 percent.

Pam has Roseanne grab an oxygen tank and cannula for Abby, and then her next call is to 911 to get Abby to the nearest available ER.

Given the date, Robby figures that the first ambulance arrival of the day shift will be someone coming from the Oktoberfest parties on Market Square – in fact, staying ahead of that is why he asked Shen to be with him on day shift today. He’s taken aback when Perlah calls out from the desk – “Robby, Shen, ambulance transport from Direct Care on South Highland, respiratory distress!”

“What’s our ETA?” Robby asks.

“Five minutes!” Perlah is already up from the desk and signaling Princess, Donnie and Kim to help her get ready.

Shen doesn’t look troubled, but neither Perlah nor Robby miss the confusion in his voice when he asks, “They’re coming here? I thought UPMC Magee was closer to that side of town…”

“It is,” Princess says as she tightens one of her hair ties. “But I bet that we have more space right now, for however long that lasts.”

The “kids” are all circulating with their various residents, but it’s Santos and Whitaker that have just come off a case. Robby calls them both over to assist – depending on the patient’s situation, he suspects he’ll need the extra hands.

When the ambulance pulls up, Medics Ziggler and Harley start unloading their patient. Perlah rolls her eyes a bit seeing Harley, but she still walks over, Whitaker and Santos and the other nurses trailing behind her.

The patient could be any random Yinzer you might see on the street – a short, distinctly plump White woman with dark hair and tired brown eyes. She has an albuterol mask on her face and those same dark eyes are scanning wildly around. Perlah can practically taste the anxiety rolling off of her. Every now and then she coughs in obvious pain.

“What do we have?” Perlah asks, and Ziggler pulls out an I-pad with her treatment notes.

“Abigail G. Langdon, 33 – severe respiratory distress when we picked her up from Direct Care. We got her on the albuterol in the ambulance, it’s keeping her in the low 90s.”

“Langdon?” Whitaker asks. He and Santos look at each other, both raising their eyebrows. The name must be coincidence, right?

Alas, no such luck, and Robby speaks for almost everyone present when he asks, “What the fuck happened??”

“Has anyone called Frank?” Shen asks Robby out in the hallway. Abby has been set up in Central 7, and Robby and Shen are giving Perlah and her team room to work, along with the gang from Respiratory Therapy.

Robby shakes his head. “Ambulance team left a message, but he’s been admitted less than 48 hours, he won’t have phone access ‘til tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

“Shit.” Shen looks around Robby’s shoulder and winces sympathetically – Donnie is attempting to place Abby’s IV ports in each arm, and Shen can see the tears running down Abby’s face from the multiple needle pricks. Donnie is usually able to place an IV in one shot, and Shen can only guess that Abby must be incredibly dehydrated if Donnie can’t find her veins. “So who do we call next?”

“Not sure,” Robby admits. “She’d mentioned to me a few days ago about having her parents watch the kids anyway, so I think they’re off the table. Just…” He scratches the back of his head, trying to think. “Just try to keep an eye on her case, yeah?”

“Will do, brother.”

Abby doesn’t know that she’s ever felt so off-kilter in her life. Nurse…Donnie was his name?.. has been able to place her ports, finally, and she’s had her first rounds of albuterol and antibiotics. However, the blood blisters are creating weird patterns on her pale skin, almost as if someone drew on her with a red sharpie marker.

She keeps wanting to close her eyes, like a good few hard blinks will have her waking up from this nightmare back home, where Frank would be there to tell her that she’s ok. Even with the pain from the IVs, Abby’s thoughts keep cycling along the same treadmill: “This can’t be happening…why is this happening…I guess this is happening but it can’t be…” Underneath all her worry, she can’t escape the feeling that she may have been closer to death than she knew.

It doesn’t help that while she had a rush of people around her earlier, the observation room is now empty. She’s heard more ambulances coming in – what if they forget about her? She got here at 10:30, and it’s now after 3 pm…

No one has forgotten about Abby, they just know that she’s stable enough that she can be left alone a moment. The OktoberFest crush started to roll in about thirty minutes after Abby’s arrival, including several cases of severe dehydration.

As such, when Shen recommends that Abby be put in line for a CT scan of her chest, instead of going herself, Perlah calls out to Santos in Tagalog: “<Trinity, you and your roomie get Abby a pregnancy test so we know if she can have her scan! Get her COVID swab too while you’re at it.>”

“<On it>,” Santos responds, and though Whitaker doesn’t speak the language, he knows an order when he hears one. He falls into step behind Santos as she grabs a urine sample collector cup and a nasal swab, and they stroll as quickly as they can to Abby’s room without running.

---

“Hi, I’m Doctor Santos, this is med student Whitaker – is it ok if he’s in with me on this?” Santos asks – admittedly, with more bravado than she’s feeling. Abby’s eyes light up in recognition, and Santos braces for the worst.

“I’ve heard your name, Dr. Santos – or should I call you Trinity?” Abby’s tone is kinder than Santos expected.

“…what else have you heard?” Santos asks.

“My husband may have creatively cursed your name and future progeny when he first got home from the Pittfest aftermath.” The less Abby says about that night, the better – Santos does NOT need to know how bad Frank’s ranting got. She seems nice enough, if a little aggressive. “To answer your other question, yes, Whitaker can be in on this.”

Whitaker smiles at Abby genuinely, and she smiles back. “We’ll take care of you, Mrs. Langdon, don’t worry,” he says.

“What does bring you two in here anyway?”

“Dr. Shen wants you to get a CT scan of your lungs, and we need to make sure you aren’t pregnant before you get rolled back to imaging, and we gotta check to see if this is COVID or flu or something else.” Santos holds on to the sample cup, and she passes the nasal swab to Whitaker. He looks nervous only for half a second, and then he helps Abby remove her cannula so he can swab her nose. After that, unhooking her from the IVs so she can go to the bathroom seems comically easy.

---

Abby is not afraid of urine collection or blood draws - after all, she’s carried two children, and when her blood pressure spiked with Chrissy, she needed a check of protein in her blood twice a week . However, as she tries to position herself to take her sample, she can’t quite reach where she needs to be, and the twisting is making her breathing difficult. On top of it, even though she hasn’t eaten anything since this morning, her stomach feels like it’s about to rebel again.

Santos and Whitaker have been waiting outside the bathroom to give Abby privacy, but the noise of her struggle is unmistakable. Santos knocks on the door – “Mrs. L, you ok in there?”

“No, please help, I can’t do this!”

Santos pushes the door open (thank fuck it wasn’t locked) with Whitaker right on her heels. Poor Abby looks like she’s going to faint either from panic or from lack of oxygen, and Santos grabs the collection cup from where Abby placed it on the sink. Whitaker takes Abby’s hand and helps her sit back down, and Santos takes the sample once Abby’s ready.

After the collection and everyone getting cleaned up, Whitaker and Santos get Abby back to her bed and reattached. “Thank you both,” she says. “I know that sort of thing is really undignified.”

Whitaker shrugs. “I grew up on a farm, I have seen MUCH worse.”

“It had to get done, and now we can know next steps,” Santos says. “Whitaker and I will run these back to the lab, you just hang tight and get your sats back up, yeah?”

Santos intentionally waits until she and Whitaker are out of earshot before she asks, “Ok, her sats got really low just in those few minutes, right?”

Whitaker nods. “Yeah, down to 88.”

“Damn it,” Santos mutters. “Sounds like pneumonia or worse.”

The pregnancy and COVID tests come back negative, the CT is done, and Nurse Kim pulls the results together to present to Shen. He can’t say he’s surprised when the CT does show pneumonia in the second lobe of her right-side lung. Combined with a comment in her chart about having had pre-eclampsia, he opts to not take any chances.

After having Kim give Abby a non-rebreather mask, Shen calls up to the ICU: “Hey, Maddox, it’s Shen down in the ER – how soon would you have a bed for a pneumonia patient?”

Robby has been in the weeds for a few hours now, and he does a double take when he sees Abby’s current set-up. Shen has just gotten off the phone, and Robby waves to him, asking him to catch him up.

“Non-rebreather on Abby Langdon?” Robby asks. “Has she had a downturn?”

“Not really, but I don’t want to take any chances – even if she were thin, she’s got complicating factors in her history, I just asked Maddox if he could take her.”

“What'd he say?”

“That he’ll have a room, but it’s going to be at least five hours before it’s open – and he asked if we were going to intubate.”

“So what did you say?”

“That I would call him back. For what it’s worth,” Shen says, “Her sats are great on the mask, she’s back up to 98 percent, and she seems less agitated.”

Robby’s expression turns thoughtful, and Shen asks, “What did you have in mind, brother?”

“Well, keeping in mind that she’s your patient and not mine – do you think we can manage to have her in a regular room? Esme’s team has been able to get ahead of the curve and clean a big batch of rooms on the fifth floor. And I know you said she’s less agitated now, but you know as well as I do that intubation is an agitating process – if we can find a way to skip it, I think we should.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Shen admits. Referring to the computer, he says, “Respiratory is going to be back with her in 30 minutes for her next round of albuterol – if I take her off the mask now, put the cannula back in place and her sats are still steady, I’ll see if they’re comfortable having her in a non-ICU room.” Ideally, they should be able to do the handoff before the end of shift.

The cannula works just fine for Abby and Respiratory is ok with her room assignment…but the timing of it doesn’t work out as Robby and Shen had hoped. Even with Esme and the other members of Environmental Services doing their fastest work, transferring Abby is taking longer than intended, and it’s now after 7 pm.

Santos and Whitaker are getting ready to go home, but as they start walking out, they see the board still showing Abby waiting for her room. “Trin,” Whitaker asks, “we’re both off tomorrow – you think we should keep Mrs. Langdon company until her room’s ready? I think she might need it.”

Santos gets that look on her face where she knows what the right thing to do is, even if she doesn’t necessarily want to do it. She sighs and says, “Yeah, Huck, we probably should. We did promise to take care of her.”

The company does end up being exactly what Abby needed – even with knowing that she should be moving soon, the isolation has been getting to her. Now that she’s a little less anxious, she shows Santos and Whitaker pictures of her kids, and they confirm with her that her parents have been kept in the loop.

It’s finally about 9 pm when Abby can go upstairs – Ellis has gotten in, so she leads the merry caravan and presents to the upstairs night attending. The nurses help get Abby into bed, and Santos and Whitaker make sure she knows where the remotes are for the TV and the lights. Santos even plugs Abby's phone in for her where she can reach it.

Finally, FINALLY, Abby can sleep, even with the sats check-ins and albuterol treatments, and she can’t deny the relief she feels when she wakes up around 7 the next morning to a voicemail from Frank.

#the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #abby langdon #the pitt spoilers #frank langdon

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onlyangelicc · 6 months ago

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lust ~ Father Charlie Mayhew (nac)

{ warnings ; smut , church/hot priest obviously... , choking , throat fucking , p in v unprotected!! be safe kids , horny fucking people man , mentions of spit but not directly used(??) , cum eating (thats all i think!!)

summary; horny girl x priest need some kind of help morally , so why not help each other? }

the choir sang as the faithful folk left the chapel. but you were staying back this sunday. to confess. confess of your past and present. your sins. the yearning. the need. the pure lust, you feel. its been happening for a while.

every sunday since father charlie became the priest of the local church that you and your family have been going to you've felt funny. felt sinful.. lustful towards him. todays the day you confess.

while youre lost in thought, father comes and sits next to you in the pew. "hello father." you say nearly emotionlessly, looking at charlie smiling softly. "hello sister, any reason for staying late this service? need a prayer or something of the sort?" he says in the same tone, intertwining his fingers with each other resting each of his elbows on his knees that were spread apart while sitting in the pew.

you watched his hands as he did so, your heart racing. "hmm?" he hummed waiting for a response. you looked up at him through your eyelashes, "i need more than just a prayer father charlie." his face expresses confusion. "i must be rebuked. from my sinful ways." you say softly.

"what is it, sister?" he says standing up, face looking concerned, motioning with his hands for you to follow. "well, ive been feeling these feelings for a long time. it's to personal for the choir to hear. lets wait until we get to your office."

"i understand. right this way." he says, guiding you down the long, dark hallway with his hand on your lower back. "have a seat." he says opening the door to his office, then pulling out the large cushioned chair from under his desk. you do as he says, "thank you."

"now what was it?" he says taking the seat on the other side of his desk. "well," you sigh, twiddling your thumbs. "ive been feeling pretty.. uhm. im not sure how to word it while being a woman of god." you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "dont worry sister, youre here to confess. you can throw em all in right now." he lets out a deep chuckle, you shrug and smile at his remark.

"well then, ive been feeling very.. lustful. towards,... you." you finally confess, shyly. Charlie's eyes widened a bit, then a small smirk comes across his face. "it's normal. don't worry sister." he said reassuringly, going against the laws of the bible. "if im honest i feel those things more often than i want to admit." he states, sighing deeply. your heart skips a few beats.

"a release is always needed." he says standing up, gripping his covered bulge then looking at you, your innocent looking face, and untouched body. you watch, nearly mesmerized by his sudden forwardness. "have you ever.." you stand taking one step towards him up feeling called to him with his actions, right after he pushes you back to the desk and he presses himself against your front. "gotten, a release?" he whispers into your ear, his mouth lingering against your neck.

you shake your head no and refrane from whimpering and gripping his arm. "want one?" he said, lifting me up making me sit on the desk behind you. his hands rub up and down your thighs as he waits for your response. "hm? do you know how bad i want you to say yes, sister?" despite coming to him to confess, you feel like hes really the one confessing.

"every. sunday. i see you walk your way into this church, sit down in the 3rd pew to the front. listening to my words. looking at me with something more than faith in your eyes. i know what youre thinking about sister." your core pulses with his words that sound smooth as butter. his hands continue up your thighs, making their way to your breasts.

"im thinking the same dirty, dirty things. i guarantee it." he says gripping them softly. you bite your lip while you watch his eyes admire your chest, even covered by your lavender purple long sleeve shirt. "please, give me a release father." you say, looking up at him, your hands now on his large biceps that are covered by his black button up.

"thats it.." he kisses your neck harshly, leading to your mouth. you kiss him deeply, his hands falling to your hips. he grabs you and sets you on your feet on the ground, grabbing the waistband of your long beige skirt. he watches it fall leaving you in your shirt and a pair of cheeky bikini cut undies. he admires your figure caressing it from your thighs to your hips, then your ass, gripping softly.

you pull him towards you by the back of his neck, he smiles as your lips find their way to his neck, kissing roughly; just as he did to you. he moans as you grip his growing erection, and kiss his neck. you pull and grip on his fabric covered arms and his hands fly to the buttons fighting to get them undone needing it off now. after the both of you get his shirt off, its your turn. you grip your shirt at the bottom and pull it up over your head.

he bites his lip, and his hands grips your boobs. his hands reach around your body as he undoes your bra, he kisses your neck as it gets thrown on the floor. he continues to kiss down your neck and he gets to your boobs. kissing and licking the nipples, taking breaks just to squeeze and admire them. "pretty?" you say softly, running your fingers through his hair. "perfect, theyre perfect." he says kissing down your stomach now, leaving him on his knees.

he kisses and bites your thighs, leaving subtle marks here and there. "scoot back will you sweet girl." he says pushing you back slightly, you do. "up please.." he says gripping the waist band of your underwear. he drools at the look of your needy, glistening pussy. returning to his knees, he grabs your ankles and perches your feet on the desk, leaving you exposed. "thats it. so pretty." he says running his index finger through your wetness, then rubbing your clit softly and slowly. you whimper softly, "hmm, needy?" he says licking a strip along your pussy, then going to suck your clit softly.

you moan and grip his hair as he licks you, you feel the motherfucker smile against your core. "god fuck, charlie.." you shutter under his mouth. he stands back up, kissing your neck. your hands roam down his biceps and then make their way to the prison of his tight black dress pants. your hands fight to undo his belt and get his boxers off. you eventually do with just a little help from him. your jaw drops at the size of him.

you watch in awe as his pretty tip leaks precum. you stoke his hard cock as you kiss his neck and chest. his head goes back as he moans, he then takes your hands off him and he guides his dick towards your core running it along your wetness. he watches it as he does, getting more and more aroused by you by the second. he rubs himself against your clit and the rest of your pussy, it feels so good. you need him so bad. you grip him as he continues. he admires your face so filled with pleasure. "fuck youre so beautiful." he says kissing you passionately.

this was wayyy more than a confession now.

"i need you." you say thrusting your hips towards his cock. you look up at him and plead with your pretty eyes. he laughs and moves away from your core, leaving you needy. "yeah? are you sure?" he says, cocking a eyebrow at your comment. "yes, please fuck me charlie." you scratch at his toned chest and abs. "thats not my name." he says gripping your jaw tightly, smushing your lips making them pout slightly.

"gnnhh, sorry daddy" you say, hoping the name was right. "thats my girl." he says slipping the tip in gently, letting you get adjusted to his size before pushing himself in inch by inch. your eyes watering due to the size and width of him. "oh shit daddy.." you say, nails digging into his shoulders, winching in pain and pleasure.

he pumps into you slowly before picking up the pace, you moan loudly. he watches as you fall apart, not thinking about anything other than you. you moan with every thrust of his hips, "its so good" you whine, pulling him to your chest holding him tightly. you bite his shoulder leaving indents. you kiss his neck passionately, leaving countless marks all over his chest and neck.

"youre taking me so well, such a good girl." he says, gripping your jaw making you look at him submissively. you smile and kiss him, whimpering. he continues to stretch your tight hole, his hand finds its way to your neck. he wraps his large hand around it and squeezes lightly cutting off your airflow for a few seconds before letting go and gently running his hand down your chest to play with your tits.

his hands grip and massage each breast one after the other, playing with the nipples of each. you moan, "you feel so good daddy." arching your back with the new sensation. "yeah? tell me again." he says grabbing your thighs, holding you up and fucking you at a new angle.

he was holding you up like you weighed nothing, your legs held together by his large arms and his hips thrusting. the sound of your skin clapping together consuming the large office. you planted your hands and mid back on the desk that was lowkey getting pushed with every thrust, something falling over. you didnt know what, but it didnt matter either.

"oh fuckfuckfuck" your legs tensed "you feel so fucking good daddy, im so close" he smiled, "no you're not, you can hold it for me. isnt that right, sweetheart?" he smirked, he was glistening sweat covered his skin. this mother fucker, you thought to yourself. tears welled up in your eyes and he chuckled at your weak gaze.

he continued to fuck you with no mercy, you let out a sinful whimper with each thrust. "your doing so good for me, such a good girl." he said sweetly, as if he wasn't rearranging your insides with his big thick cock. "oh shit daddy" the knot tightened with his words of praise, making your pussy clench around him. his eyes clenched and he let out a deep groan as you tightened.

"fuck baby, your so fu-" he stuttered, forgetting his words because of your pussy wrapped around him so sinfully. he couldnt think. all he did in this moment was focus on keeping you up from falling and fucking you even deeper, and better than before. he moved you back on the desk with ease, lifting your back off the table and holding you by your ass as he walked over to the wall.

he pinned you against it and started to thrust his hips into you again. "so fucking tight," he moans, satisfied with the new angle. you get unbelievably closer to the edge, this new angle hitting you JUST in the right spot. its heavenly. so fucking sinful. but it felt so right to be wrong.

you gripped his back, held him close, and he held you in place as he hot every spot. "are you close angel?" he moaned as he buried his head in your neck area, biting you sweetly. you nodded and gasped as he hit it with more force, his thrusts sloppy and even more sinful. "words." he said slowing down, you bit your lip and whimpered needing the sensation back.

"yes daddy, so fucking close." you slurred, he continued again, sloppily. "then cum, do it honey." he moaned, needing your warm juices on his cock. "can i? please? please daddy?" you say pleading, "do it slut, wanna see you cum on my cock." he said, thrusting harder, biting his lip. eyes going darker as he watched the look on your face as the tense knof started to break.

you just fell apart, cumming for what felt like 5 minutes. "so fucking pretty," he said, pulling out and forcing you to your knees, head against the door. he forced his pretty cock down your throat and proceeded to abuse your throat. he moaned loudly as he did, your eyes full of tears as you took him down your throat.

"your throat is so fucking good for me angel." he said as he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail, you looked up eyes pouring the tears that were built up. "gonna fucking cum all over your pretty face, shit." he groaned as he admired your pretty face, picturing it already covered in his cum and spit.

"please cum on my face daddy." you choked out as he pulled his cock out of your mouth, he moaned. his red angry tip spewed the white liquid and threw his head back, stroking it quickly. "thats it," he said, recovering from his intense orgasm. you took your finger and wiped his cum off your face, taking it into your mouth. humming at the sweet and salty taste of him.

"so pretty, such a pretty girl with my cum all over her face." you smiled as he rubbed his cock over your face slowly, almost seeming pornographic. you took his cock in your hand and strokes him slowly, his abs flexing with after shocks from the previous orgasm.

how will Sundays ever be normal again? fuck, this is going to be torturous.

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tags

- @jschlattisfuckinghot

#smut #austin butlers wife #onlyangelicc #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew #father charlie grotesquerie #grotesquerie #nac #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #father charlie x reader #charlie mayhew x reader

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whencyclopedia · 15 days ago

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Battle of New Orleans: The American Agincourt

The Battle of New Orleans (8 January 1815) was the final major battle of the War of 1812, in which a ragtag American army under Major General Andrew Jackson (1767-1845) beat back a superior British force under Major General Sir Edward Pakenham (1778-1815). The battle was incredibly lopsided – the Americans suffered 71 casualties while the British suffered over 2,000 – and was fought after the peace had been signed. But despite its needlessness, the battle gave the fledgling United States a new self-confidence in its sovereignty and set its victor, Jackson, on the path to the presidency.

Pakenham & the British Invasion

The events that would lead to the bloodshed at New Orleans were set into motion three months before when, on a cool October evening, Sir Edward Pakenham received a letter from Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for War and the Colonies. It informed him that the Prince Regent had been "pleased to confer upon you the Command of all the Troops operating with His Majesty's Fleets upon the Coasts of the United States" and directed him to conduct operations against New Orleans, a city strategically situated at the mouth of the Mississippi River (quoted in Napoleon Series). Bathurst hoped that by striking this vulnerable underbelly, the British could draw American attention away from Canada, where most of the fighting had been taking place; if the British could then push into the lands of the Louisiana Purchase to use as a bargaining chip for peace negotiations, all the better. Indeed, American and British diplomats were currently negotiating peace at Ghent in the United Netherlands (modern Belgium). However, Bathurst told Pakenham to disregard any rumors of peace he may hear and proceed with the campaign no matter what.

A dutiful and ambitious man, Pakenham threw himself into preparations for the campaign. Since the age of 16, when his family had bought him a lieutenant's commission in the British Army, Pakenham had known nothing but a soldier's life. He had most recently fought against the armies of Napoleonic France in the Peninsular War (1808-1814), serving under the command of his famous brother-in-law, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1769-1852). Pakenham had distinguished himself at the Battle of Salamanca (22 July 1812), where he led his 3rd Division in a bayonet charge that drove the French soldiers back in a state of 'irremediable confusion'. For such actions, he had been knighted and promoted to the rank of major general. Having spent years fighting Napoleon's veteran soldiers, Pakenham felt he had no reason to worry about the backcountry militias of Louisiana and Tennessee. In November, Pakenham set out from London to join his army, which was already en route to New Orleans – having assembled in Jamaica, the British troops had boarded 50 Royal Navy ships under Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane and sailed into the Gulf of Mexico, anchoring just east of Lake Borgne, Louisiana, on 14 December 1814.

Access to Lake Borgne was blocked by five American gunboats under Lt. Thomas ap Catesby Jones. In the evening, 980 British sailors and Royal Marines got into 42 rowboats and silently rowed out to dislodge Jones' small force. After a brief engagement, the British succeeded in capturing the gunboats at the cost of 17 dead and 77 wounded (the Americans lost 6 dead and 35 wounded). The British then began to disembark; over the next six days, 1,600 soldiers under Maj. Gen. John Keane rowed out to Pea Island, about 30 miles (48 km) east of the city. They advanced overland until, on the morning of 23 December, they reached the east bank of the Mississippi River, 9 miles (14 km) south of New Orleans. Keane stopped there to await reinforcements. As his soldiers set up camp, some of them broke into the home of Major Gabriel Villeré, who leapt out a window and ran all the way to the American lines outside New Orleans. The soldiers he found there were a ragged hodgepodge of 4,000 men: French-speaking Louisiana militia and crude-talking Tennessee frontiersmen, mounted Mississippi dragoons, and undersupplied Irish immigrants, two battalions of Black men, some enslaved and some free, as well as Choctaw Indians, pirates, and privateers. But perhaps the most striking figure of them all was their commander, a tall, thin frontiersman with piercing blue eyes and a fiery temper named Andrew Jackson.

⇒ Battle of New Orleans: The American Agincourt

#History #WarOf1812 #AndrewJackson #USHistory #WHE

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Tutor Sesh

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You tutor the popular soccer genius who is failing one subject; the same subject which you happen to be excellent at.

Square Filled: “if you solve this i’ll buy you lunch.” for @badbitchesbingo

Author’s Note: JJ and the reader are in college

If you can get this paper done before you leave the library, you’re not going to have any homework for the entire weekend. This paper has been the bane of your existence and you’re about to finish it. The door to the library slides open which makes a weird air sound that causes you to look up in curiosity.

One of the most popular girls in school comes rushing in with her books clutched to her chest. Her blonde hair flows behind her messily but she doesn’t seem to care. She was supposed to meet you forty minutes ago but didn’t leave a message that she was going to be late.

“I am so sorry I’m late. Practice ran late.”

She is a soccer genius. She got a soccer scholarship when she graduated high school and is very good in all subjects but physics. She is very good at playing soccer but if she doesn’t keep good grades, she will be kicked from the team and lose her scholarship. You just so happen to be great at the subject she sucks at which is why you agreed to tutor her.

“It’s not a problem. Just let me finish this paper. I’m almost done.”

“Sure.”

She takes out her textbooks and notebooks while you try to focus on your paper. Her blonde hair falls in front of her eyes so she tries to blow it away only to have the same strand fall back in her face. She gets annoyed and tucks it behind her ear. God, she is so beautiful. Milky skin, golden hair, and oceans for eyes.

Yeah, you’re not going to be able to finish your paper. With a sigh, you close out your document and log out of the computer knowing this session is going to take most of your time.

“Okay, I’m ready.” JJ shows you her physics book which you’re quite good at. That’s the one subject that she isn’t good at which is why she asked you to tutor her. “Tell me what you’re having trouble with.”

“All of it,” she sighs. “We’re talking about the Magnus Effect.”

You try your best to explain the subject as best as you can but she isn’t getting it. You gave her a practice test just to see where she’s at but she fails it.

“God, I’m going to fail and I’ll be kicked off the team,” she loses hope.

“No, you’re not. Okay, I just have to go about this another way.” You look at her bag to see her soccer uniform sticking out of it. “I got it. Think about soccer, okay? A spinning object in motion exerts a net force on the air, which according to Newton's 3rd Law, exerts an equal and opposite force back on the moving and spinning object, altering its trajectory. The Magnus effect is why soccer players can bend a soccer ball into the goal around a five-person wall and why baseball pitchers can throw a breaking ball pitch.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far,” she nods.

As you explain it to her, you’re also drawing diagrams that are easy to follow. She has her notebook out and is taking notes to study later.

“When a soccer player kicks a ball off-center it causes the ball to spin. The direction and speed of the spin will determine how much the ball curves during flight. The curve of the ball during flight is known as the Magnus Effect.

“As the ball undergoes top spin,” you draw a clockwise rotation on the figure, “it causes the velocity of the air around the top half of the ball to become less than the air velocity around the bottom half of the ball. This is because the tangential velocity of the ball in the top half acts in the opposite direction to the airflow, and the tangential velocity of the ball in the bottom half acts in the same direction as the airflow.”

“Okay, now you’ve lost me,” she sighs.

“It’s the big words, right?” you chuckle.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, since the air speed around the top half of the ball is less than the air speed around the bottom half of the ball, the pressure is greater on the top of the ball. This causes a net downward force to act on the ball,” you explain.

“Think of when a soccer player kicks the ball right of the center. It spins counter-clockwise and the Magnus force acts left, causing the ball to curve left. When the ball is kicked left of center, the ball spins clockwise and the Magnus force acts right, causing the ball to curve right. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, better than this book,” she laughs.

“Okay, with that in mind, answer these questions. If you solve this, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Okay,” she grins.

You spend the next hour explaining physics in relation to soccer so she’ll understand it, and she’s doing a lot better when it’s compared to something she loves doing. You two get lost in time until she looks at her phone.

“Shit, I have to go. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“It’s not a problem.”

You’re about to clean up when she grabs your face and kisses you. It comes out of nowhere which is why you’re so shocked, but she’s gone before you have a chance to do anything about it. She rips a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbles her number on it.

“Call me, okay?”

You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. She puts everything into her bag haphazardly before getting up. She waves at you as she leaves, and you’re still sitting there starstruck.

Did that really just happen? Even after she’s gone, you can still feel her on your lips. You touch your lips gently as if that will preserve the feel of her. Maybe you should tutor her more often.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau fanfic #jennifer jareau fic #jennifer jareau fluff #jennifer jareau fiction #jennifer jareau fan fiction #jennifer jareau fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

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todaysdocument · 7 months ago

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Motion for an Arrest of Judgment

Record Group 21: Records of District Courts of the United StatesSeries: Criminal Case FilesFile Unit: U.S. v. John Ryecraft

The United States of America District of Wisconsin. U.S. District Court Nov. Term 1854. The United States vs. John Ryecraft.

And now comes the said defendant and names that judgment herein be arrested for the various following count:

1st because it does not appear in either of the last two counts upon which above the defendants is found guilty, that this court has jurisdiction of the offense with which the defendant stands charged.

2nd Because no offense under the fugitive slave act is charged in either of said counts

3rd Because it is not accused that the defendant did "and". "able" or "assist" Joshua Glover to escape from the claimant, his agent or attorney or others herein or persons, legally authorized to assist said claimants agent or attorney.

4th Because it is not accused that Joshua Glover was a fugitive from labor or that he owed liens: nor is there any argument that he belongs to that class of persons to said in the escape of slaves, the Fugitive Slave act, pronounced as criminal.

5th Because it is not accused that Joshua Glover did escape nor is there anything negating the fact that he was a freeholder and an American Citizen

6th Because the inference and conclusion of law in the absence of warrants to the contrary are that Joshua Glover was a free man and entitled to all the rights and privileges of a citizen Lakin & Steerer for Deft

#archivesgov #november 20 #1854 #19th century #fugitive slave act

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gx-gameon · 1 year ago

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About Crowler, as much as I would like Jaden to tell him eventually on his own terms (with Chazz and Jesse support) It's funny if he found out Jaden identity as Prince of Duels when he went to get Seto approval for King of Colloseum for Hassleberry and subsequent graduating seniors

I haven’t decided how Crowler is going to find out yet.

I know the kids are going to learn Jaden’s identity as the Prince of Duels during the tournament arc.

While him finding out during Hasselberry’s senior 3rd year could be fun.

I think Crowler will learn during the ‘day of wrecking.’ When the Kaiba bros come to fire people.

The whole staff is freaking out. Thee Seto Kaiba is coming to the school with his husband Yugi Muto, his brother Mokuba Kaiba, his brother-in-law Atem Muto, as well as some high level employees. The staff knows something big is about to happen but they don’t know what.

Crowler is walking towards the meeting wrangling his hands in nervousness. This is so bad. This was a horrible year. They lost the school to a different dimension. Then a group of students ran a rescue mission to another dimension. One that the Kaiba family had been dragged into (he doesn’t know why they went yet) then all the events of season 4. Not to mention the evil cult last year, and the shadow riders the year before.

Crowler has been afraid that they would all be fired for years. And now the time has come he can feel it. He’s walking towards his death.

When suddenly a hand shot out and pulled him into a side room. He shrieked and turned to see one Joey Wheeler. What is he doing here? Well there was a group of master duelists in the island.

“Hey Crowler.” They had met in the dark world. “A buddy of mine is looking for you.” And Crowler swallows hard because Joey Wheeler has a lot of ‘buddies’ buddies who have a lot of power over his job.

Joey leads him to a private meeting room and motions for him to go in and then step in front of the door to make sure no one else went in.

Crowler is expecting Yugi or Atem Muto. Not a nervous looking Jaden Yuki. “Jaden? What are you doing here?” He’s happy to see his student again but also so confused. And then worried because trouble follows Jaden like a moth to a flame. What if something else had happened and Jaden was trying to save the world again? Did he need help?

“Hey Dr. Crowler. I was hoping to talk to you about something.” And Jaden is obviously nervous and he’s motioned for both of them to sit down. Crowler has a very important meeting with Seto Kaiba that he’s going to be late to because of this but one of his favorite students is back and looking more like a scared child than he’s ever seen him. The Kaiba’s can wait. Crowler’s probably getting fired anyways. He can spend his last moments as a teacher helping one of his students.

“Of course Jaden. What is it?”

“Um well…. I kinda lied on my entrance paperwork.” Crowlers confused on why that would matter now. If he had known that before he could have Jaden thrown out of school but Jaden has already graduated. They might that his diploma away but why would it matter when Jaden’s saved the school more times then crowler probably knows of. “See my last name isn’t Yuki anymore. It’s Muto.”

Crowler sits there staring at Jaden for a long moment. “Dr. Crowler?” Jaden asks worriedly. He had expected a bigger reaction. Crowler faints and falls out of his chair. “Yep there it is.” Jaden says as he walks over to make sure his teacher is alright, while texting his Oto-san that he had told Crowler and they would be late to the meeting.

Crowler misses the ‘day of wrecking meeting and wakes up to find the whole Muto family around. Jaden, his dads, and uncles and aunts. There is no denying what Jaden said when he’s literally talking to Yugi and calling him dad. Crowler wants to cry. He’s so fired.

He’s not. He’s got a promotion but also way stricter rules for the academy to follow.

#jaden yuki #judai yuki #yugioh gx #dad yugi #yugi moto #yugi mutou #seto kaiba #rivalshipping #dr. crowler #joey wheeler

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oliviax727 · 2 years ago

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Physics Friday: WTF is Dark Energy/Dark Matter? (Part 1)

To see what this is all about click here.

Preamble: Dark Numbers

Education level: High School (Y9/10)

Topic: Cosmology (Astronomy)

This equation is surprisingly the best representation of what we are doing with dark energy and dark matter. The equations we are using to figure out the nature of the universe are quite literally 'not adding up'.

When we have a situation where we encounter a missing number we are faced with three scenarioes:

Our model is wrong and we fucked up, physics is over

Our model works, but it's not complete. There are situations where it doesn't apply, and we are seeing an example of it

Our model is simply missing a few terms

Scenario 1 would imply that basic physics such as Newton's laws of motion and gravity are just plain wrong. Which is ... well ... a bit difficult to try and prove.

Scenario 2 implies that there is a more fundamental theory that underlies our current one. While it is not off the table, it can be difficult to find a theory for just one or two specific phenomena.

Scenario 3 is like 2, but it's a bit 'softer', what we're doing is just adding an extra number to balance out the equation and then trying to answer "What does this number mean"?

By Occam's razor, we can go with option 3, as it's simpler, and also appears to be more correct than a complete model change.

Dark Matter and Galaxies

Our galaxy is like the solar system in the sense that there is a large object in the centre surrounded by a bunch of stuff moving around that centre.

The difference between the two is the ratio between the central mass and the mass of the rest of the system.

If you combined all of the planets in the solar system together, it would still be less massive than the Sun.

This means we can easily calculate how the planets move around the Sun. As the motions of the other planets don't really affect that motion all too much. And thus we can use Kepler's 3rd Law:

If you combined all of the stars in the galactic 'orb' surrounding the centre, you find that it would be much heavier than the black hole in the centre.

This means you have to account for a more spread out mass as you change your distance from the centre of the galaxy.

The further you are from the centre of the galaxy, the more stuff there is beneath you i.e. there's more stuff closer to the core than you. We have to calculate gravity taking this mass, and the radius to it, into account.

Thankfully, we have methods that can calculate this much easier. And we can use this to figure out our orbital velocity as a function of distance from the centre.

So let's try and calculate things! Take a galaxy, measure it's mass distribution independent of orbital mechanics, and find the orbital velocity!

Image Credit: Citizendium

What we get is the graph above. In a normal universe, we expect our orbital velocity to increase near the core as more stuff gets added to the mass pulling us in. It then peters out as gravity looses it's strength.

What we actually see is that the orbital velocity takes a lot longer to peter out. If Newton's Laws/General Relativity are working how they should, this means that there must be a lot more mass in the galaxy.

What's worse is that this mass is much more evenly distributed. And not just that, but we cannot see it i.e. it does not interact with electromagnetic waves (light).

Hence we label this weird matter 'dark', because we can't see it and it helps us account for the disparity in the equation.

Next time I'll go into what we think dark matter actually is.

Dark Energy and Einstein's Blunder

General Relativity is one of the most backed-up theories in all of physics. The original conception of the theory comes from the Einstein Field Equations (EFEs):

We can safely ignore all of the fancy jargon symbols. What's important to us is what's missing.

When Einstein was playing around with his equations, he made an error. This error led him to missing a part in his equation. And thus he added an additional term to the EFEs:

This capital lambda term (Λ) helped balance his erronious equation.

Eventually, Einstein figured out that this was a mistake, a mistake so big that he called it his 'Biggest Blunder'. It turns out that the EFEs don't require Λ to actually work.

A few decades later, in the 1990s, researchers were trying to use the principles of general relativity to figure out the expansion of spacetime. Thanks to Edwin Hubble, we knew that space was expanding, but we didn't know how it was expanding.

The difficulty is that both the curvature and the amount of energy in the universe affected the expansion of the universe. This is dictated by the Friedmann equations:

Where the a's are the universe's scale factor, i.e. the current 'size' of the universe. The two p's are the mass and energy densities in the universe.

Using measurements of Type Ia Supernovae (you will see a topic on this in the future as I've done research into this), two teams of researchers were able to determine that the expansion rate of the universe was accelerating! Something completely unexpected.

This would require us adding an additional term to the equation involving our suspicious little friend:

This Λ variable, called the cosmological constant, can be propagated up the mathematical derivation chain to show that Einstein's 'mistake' was actually the correct equation all along!

The cosmological constant acts a energy density term that exists outside of our current understandings of the matter and energy in our universe. And because it's outside of our understanding, we call it 'dark' energy - because, just like dark matter, we can't see it.

It's a type of energy that isn't represented by any of the fundamental forces. What's more is that it is constant, which means as the universe expands, more gets added. And even more is that this energy density is negative, suggesting even that the universe is not a vaccum.

This discovery landed three researchers from both teams the Nobel prize in physics. One of the laureates includes the vice chancellor of my very own university, Brian Schmidt. Doxxing myself aside, this is a fact that neither me, nor my university, will shut up about.

In another part, I'll talk about what this dark energy could be and what an accelerating expansion of the universe could mean.

Conclusion

So despite the names, dark energy and dark matter are actually two different things that have two different sets of properties purposes (at least that's what we think). The names simply derive from the same method of using constants to help make our equations work better with reality.

It's always possible that we are wrong and there is a more fundamental equation that helps us understand these things. But that's a task for the future.

Hope you enjoyed reading and please give me feedback! I'm doing this every week as well, so feel free to follow if you want.

Next week I'll probably do something mathematics-related, before continuing on with this part.

#physics #astronomy #cosmology #dark matter #dark energy #physics friday #science #stem #academics #astrophysics

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justinspoliticalcorner · 6 months ago

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Justin McCurry at The Guardian:

South Korea’s parliament has voted to impeach the acting president, Han Duck-soo, plunging the country deeper into a political crisis that has caused policy deadlock and damaged its international reputation. On Friday, the national assembly approved an impeachment motion introduced on Thursday by the main opposition party by a 192-0 vote. The chamber has 300 MPs, but members of the ruling People Power party (PPP) boycotted Friday’s vote.

Han took over as president after his predecessor, Yoon Suk Yeol, was impeached over his short-lived imposition of martial law on 3 December. The move triggered six hours of chaos that, for many older South Koreans, brought back memories of the country’s bloody transition from military rule to democracy in the 1980s. The main opposition Democratic party – which has a majority in the national assembly – targeted Han after accusing him of participating in Yoon’s botched imposition of martial law, which ended when MPs forced their way into the parliament building to overturn Yoon’s decree. Yoon had claimed he had declared martial law as a legitimate “act of governance” to root out politicians from opposition parties he accused of pro-North Korean sympathies and anti-state activities. He gave no evidence for those claims, and analysts believe he had become exasperated by his failure to get his budgets past the opposition-controlled national assembly. Had it stood for more than a few hours, the martial law order edict would have suspended all political activity, banned protests and curtailed press freedoms, while police and troops would have been responsible for enforcing the order.

South Korea impeaches its 2nd president in less than a month. This time, it's acting President Han Duck-soo. With Duck-soo's impeachment, Choi Sang-mok will become the interim President.

Will Sang-mok be the 3rd President getting impeached in succession there? stay tuned.

#Han Duck Soo #Choi Sang Mok #Duck Soo Impeachment #Impeachment #South Korea #East Asia #World News

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risingsoleil · 9 months ago

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LinZin Coffee Shop AU snippet? Could be very cute. Please and thank you. 🤍☕️🧋 I’m enjoying the writing kick you are on.

Hi girlie! this is mooonths late lol forgive me

Tenzin is a 3rd year university student and he works part-time at a coffee shop. Midterms is coming up and he notices the most beautiful girl has been visiting often. She always comes alone, so maybe she's single? From her credit card info, her name is Lin.

Tenzin is smitten with her even if he hasn't had a real conversation with her.

Since first seeing her, Tenzin has memorized her schedule. He feels it's creepy and keeps this info to himself. Today is Tuesday and she came in around 2pm. Lin always orders the same thing---iced toffee nut latte. Sometimes, she adds a yogurt or snack with her purchase. Then she goes to her usual corner by the window and starts working.

Today the sunlight is subtle, but so refreshing. It's hitting at the perfect angle to give her an angelic aura. Tenzin can't stop looking at her, in between getting drinks ready and taking orders. Lin may not notice while she works, but his manager certainly does.

"Go tell her hi," a voice whispers in his ear.

Tenzin's heart almost stops beating and tears out of his chest at the voice. "Shit! Sokka, don't scare me like that!" he hisses back, fixing the collar of his shirt.

"You've been planning your whole life together before you even had a real conversation with her. Now stop being a loser, go charm her, and get her number. Or Instagram."

"I can't just do that! It'll be weird!"

"Do i have to do everything around here?" Sokka grumbles. He pulls Tenzin close. "Listen, go ask if she wants to have the blinds closed since it's in her face."

"Oh..." tenzin nods in interest. "Good idea. Then what?"

"Have a conversation with her! Ask her what she's studying or something. Or if she goes to the same university. Do i have to tell you everything?"

"It would help."

"Damn it, Tenzin. You really need a girlfriend. How is it you're so smart, but can't talk to girls?"

"I don't know, it's a curse."

Sokka smacks him lightly on the shoulder. "We'll talk about that later. Go on."

"But---"

A shove forces him away from the counter and the panic already rises to Tenzin's face. Sokka motions at the window and glares for extra measure. Realizing that he had no way out of this (unless he literally runs away), Tenzin awkwardly walks over to Lin's table. His hip almost knocks over another customer's table and he apologizes profusely.

Sokka facepalms.

Tenzin swallows the lump in his throat as he enters the territory of this heavenly goddess. Lin has her AirPods in and is typing at lightning speed on her laptop. He waves a bit to get her attention and she acknowledges his presence.

Taking one pod out, she asks, 'What can I do for you?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I was just wondering if you, uh, the sunlight."

Lin tilts her head. "The sunlight?"

"I mean, if you want me to pull the blinds down. Since the sunlight is in your face and blinding you. I mean, not literally. But ..yeah."

"Oh." She glances out the window and then the blinds. "Halfway is fine. It's getting a bit hard to see my screen."

"Of course!" Tenzin pulls the blinds, the shade creeping over Lin's face. The sunlight illuminated her skin and only glowed from her neck down. "If you need anything else, just let me know."

"Thanks."

He can feel his palms sweating profusely and he keeps his hands close to his body. "So...um, do you also go to Republic City University?"

Rather than get rejected, Lin nods. "Yeah. Do you?"

A small smile rises on his face. "Yeah. I"m in my third year. What about you?"

"Second year." She takes a sip of her toffee nut latte. "What's your major?"

"I'm double majoring in Psychology and Literature."

Lin hums, licking her lips to absorb the foam. "Wow, that sounds cool."

"Eh, a lot of reading. But I enjoy it." He scratches the back of his neck. "And you?"

"international business and international law."

"Oh, wow yours is much more intense than mine."

Lin chuckles and nods her head. She leans back and crosses her arms. "Yeah, that's why I'm thinking of just dropping business and doing law."

"Either way, that just sounds so cool. But I'm sure you're really busy with studying and midterms coming up."

A nod. "Yep. So that's why you'll be seeing me everyday."

"I don't mind." The calm smile on his face disappeared and he quickly, added, "It's nice to always sees regulars, even if you're only around for midterms. Having a drink while studying hits hard. "

"Oh even after midterms, you'll see me. You guys have the best toffee nut latte."

"Really?"

"Mhm. It's not too sweet and not too milky. I don't know, I just love it. So I'll be around to donate my money to your workplace." She meets his eyes. "Do you have a lot of midterms?"

A heavy sigh. "Yeah, I have 5. I've been studying in between work and classes."

"Do you study here?"

"Sometimes."

"Maybe we can study together."

His eyes lit up. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"

"Yeah. I don't mind. Plus, it makes sense for you to study here when you can. And it's easier to study with another person."

"Definitely. Sometimes talking it out with someone helps you grasp a concept better."

"Exactly," she agrees.

"Well, I get off at 1pm tomorrow if you wanna study for midterms?"

"That works for me."

"And feel free to bring your friends, too," he added, hoping that it wouldn't make her feel pressured that this was a date.

Lin smirks. "My money isn't enough for you? You're gonna make us all broke."

"I could give it to you guys free one time."

"No, no, I'm just joking. You don't have to."

Tenzin shakes his head. "It's fine. Really. It's just one time."

"Don't worry about us. We'll pay properly. Just keep making good toffee nut lattes."

"Ah..alright." Tenzin bites his lip and feels his awkward side returning with the upcoming silence. He clears his throat and shoots a glance toward Sokka. "Well, um I gotta go back to work. But let me know if you need anything else. Or if you want another latte."

"Sure."

Tenzin turns around to walk away.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I didn't get your name. I'm Lin."

"Nice to meet you, Lin. I'm Tenzin."

#linzin #lin beifong #tenzin #tlok #coffee shop au #i love toffee nut lattes #so lin will love toffee nut lattes

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nanamineedstherapy · 21 days ago

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Kaapi Aur Kaand: South Delhi Gangs Edition

Previous Chapter - [Tumblr/Ao3] A/N: This fic is based on true events (i.e. every group project I ever did with men) warning: contains caffeine-fuelled vengeance, parasocial loyalty to filter coffee, Gojo being a chaabi-less himbo, & Nanami praying for god to kill all startups. Inspired by the question: What if capitalism but everyone was hot & needed therapy? If you’ve ever wanted to sue a founder on Shark Tank, this one’s for you 🫡 Anyway enjoy the unhinged startup gore. (p.s. Sukuna is right. Helvetica is the font of war.) No hate to anyone, its all just comedy.

A corporate shootout, but the guns are NDAs and Gojo's chaabi-less Audi.

It started the way most Delhi beef does—on LinkedIn.

A beige-font post with the humility of a CAA student and the subtlety of a banana republic ad:

“Emerging startups need to step back and let legacy brands lead.”

— Eepy Crow’s CEO, apparently inspired by Ambani but mentored by Manav Kaul

He wasn’t even tagged.

Just... posted it.

No context.

But you choked on your espresso.

Because you were the “emerging startup.”

The one roasting beans and egos since 2021.

The one with warehouses in Noida, interns from IIT, and the emotional stamina of a C-section mother running a tech team.

Nanami read the post, looked up from his quarterly report, and muttered, “I’m going to kill him.”

Gojo shared it in the team group chat with, “Should we post a reaction reel or just slash his tyres?”

Suguru shared it to your internal Slack with the caption: “Hahaha, are we allowing war crimes yet?” Then sipping oat milk like a villain in slow motion, added it to his “petty crimes I’m manifesting” list.

Sukuna was already in the parking lot, warming up. “Send me the location.”

Toji was in a towel on the terrace bench-pressing the printer, already on Instagram DMing the CEO’s girlfriend. He saw the post and said, “Say less. Give me 48 hours and a cricket bat.”

You kicked open the glass door of the CP investor roundtable an hour later.

Hair uncombed. Kajal smeared like war paint. Black kurta, silver jhumkas, chappals snapping like gunshots on marble.

Toji followed behind, chewing gum and looking like he’s already committed three minor felonies.

The CEO looked like a law intern turned health startup bro who discovered caffeine after losing his crypto wallet.

Three co-founders. One vision. Zero originality.

Packaging like an Art Deco Spotify ad. Branding like they swallowed the entire Pinterest board of Bon Appétit India.

And now he wanted to talk legacy?

You walked up to him, sipped your espresso, and said: “Who taught you marketing? A 3rd year SRCC frat boy on his second heartbreak? Or was it Akshay Kumar during a pressure cooker ad?”

He blinked. “Can we not—”

You didn't. “Bhaiya, aapne LinkedIn pe post kiya na? Ab face pe sun lo.”

The Eepy Crow boys ran with legacy funding, Gen Z packaging, and Gurgaon dads.

You? You had rage, caffeine, juniors who knew Photoshop, and absolutely no respect for men with sandalwood-beard-oil startups.

Startup War: Day Zero

Their flagship café opened in Defence Colony at 9:00 AM sharp.

By 9:01, your rage was boiling like an underpaid tandoor.

Right across the street from your best-performing kiosk. A kiosk built on insomnia, broken relationships, and two years of unpaid emotional labour. A kiosk where even the pigeons knew better than to shit on your logo.

Then their banner had the audacity to read:

"REAL Coffee. REAL Flavour. Not Filtered By Attitude."

Gojo staired. “Is that... is that about us?”

You didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Just sipped your cutting black brew. “They want smoke. Let’s give them a gas chamber.”

You gathered the team.

War Room Meeting: 10:00 AM

You walked in like a mafia consigliere in a Fabindia funeral edit. All black kurta. Khol. Gold jhumkas swinging like guillotine blades.

Nanami already had a whiteboard up, graphs stabbing across it like war wounds. Toji brought a cricket bat and a chai thermos filled with vodka. Suguru was hand-roasting beans in a corner like some evil witch auntie. Gojo looked like he hadn't slept since Tinder updated. Sukuna wore a red shirt, silver chains, and that glint in his eye—the one he only got before crime.

You: CEO. Full Wasseypur revenge arc. Hair unbrushed. Eyes sharp. No time for emotional closure.

Gojo: Partnerships lead. Wearing eyeshadow brighter than his career prospects.

Nanami: CFO. Already threatening to call SEBI.

Suguru: Head of R&D. Barista Cult Leader. Quietly planning biological warfare via almond milk.

Sukuna: Brand Head. Has 3 meme drafts ready. All of them slander.

Toji: Logistics. Smirking like he just ran a red light with no number plate.

Ino: On Leave.

Nanami starts the meeting, “They’ve poached two of our vendors. Offered them double. Their cost of production is now 38% higher than ours. They’re losing margin just to spite us.”

Sukuna sipped his Red Bull. “Let me design the revenge poster. I want blood splatter and Helvetica.”

Suguru raised a brow. “Can I poison their almond milk supply chain?”

Toji cracked his knuckles. “I’ve already hacked their founder’s wife’s Pinterest. She now follows a board titled ‘Meat Porn & Failed Marriages.’”

You nodded. “Focus. We have 72 hours. Operation: Caffeine Coup. Begin.”

Gojo raised a hand, hopeful. “Should we... try talking?”

The room turned. “Shut up, Gojo.”

Eepy Crow’s flagship launched with free cappuccinos and poorly timed jazz.

Across the street, your kiosk played Daler Mehndi and gave out free espresso shots with stickers that said:

“Legacy tastes like your dad’s failed dairy business.”

The war had begun.

Their press release hit Mint. Yours hit people’s souls.

Gojo stood behind you, watching you yell into your phone at the B2B manager while eating golgappas.

He didn’t say anything.

Just watched.

Like he used to. Back in college.

When he thought, maybe the world made sense if you were in it.

Suguru fed you a sweet golgappa by hand while you continued seething, “If you ever want to co-found something less stressful—like a poetry café—I’d build it around your rage.”

You chewed it with judgement. “If you ever quote Ghalib at me again, I’ll co-found your funeral.”

Gojo didn’t flirt.

He just... walked beside you.

Followed your orders.

Made your decks prettier.

Answered your 3AM Slacks without asking why you were awake.

The other men wanted you.

He just missed you. His friend he could always talk to.

Day 1: Khan Market Bloodbath

Flash mob. Free cold brew shots. Loudspeakers blasting “Tunak Tunak Tun.”

Yuji and Junpei handed out coupons with QR codes linking to a blog titled:

“How Eepy Crow is Gentrifying Filter Coffee.”

Sukuna tweeted:

“BREAKING: Eepy Crow found guilty of war crimes against South Indian breakfast culture. Source: Rage and receipts.”

Day 2: Twitter Bloodbath

Sukuna’s thread went live:

A THREAD 🧵: Why Eepy Crow is South Delhi’s Theranos. (1/47)

Point #3 included a Google Sheet of their copy-pasted mission statements. Point #19 included a meme of their CEO edited into a sachet of Bru Gold.

Day 3: Biological Warfare

Suguru quietly delivered a “new cinnamon infusion” pack to their Defence Colony outlet.

It had fermented extract from leftover paani puri water and cinnamon grown in some unknown man's Gurgaon balcony.

Their cold brew turned into what could only be described as paani from Lajpat sewage.

You received a cease and desist letter.

Nanami wrote a reply:

“Freedom of Beverage Expression is protected under Article 19(1)(a). Choke on it.”

Day 4: Reels and Revenge

Kokichi directed. Nobara styled. Megumi composed background score.

The revenge reel?

Sunset behind your kiosk. Your juniors laughing. Slow-mo espresso pours. Captioned:

“We didn’t inherit this. We bled for it.”

Zomato reposted. Chuiggy made a sticker pack.

Eepy Crow’s engagement dropped 18%.

Day 5: Merch and Menace

Nobara’s tote bags said:

“F*ck Legacy. Filter Coffee Forever.”

Sold out in six hours. Delhi girls wore it like it was political protest merch.

Megumi added an AI feature to your app. Without telling you.

You found out when Toji asked you, “Why does the POS system say ‘you’re doing amazing, sweetie’ after every transaction?”

You almost smiled.

Almost.

Day 6: Breakdown

It was late.

You were in the war room.

Hair in a bun.

Glasses crooked.

No shoes. Chai untouched.

Toji asleep under the desk.

Sukuna’s meme flagged for hate speech.

Nanami threatening to resign via Excel cell comments.

You were pacing.

The new café promo had just tanked.

You turned—and Gojo was there.

Laptop open. Campaign ideas queued.

Sitting quietly.

He pointed to a single line of copy on the slide:

“For the ones who built it without help. Without names. Just hands.”

You read it.

Then looked up. Slowly.

He didn’t meet your eyes.

Just smiled.

Small. Real.

You didn’t say thank you.

Just handed him a new task. “Fix Ino’s ad. It looks like Google made it during a migraine.”

Day 7: Final Strike

You launched: “Pay What You Want” Weekend.

People queued. Students. Lawyers. Delivery boys. Aunties in nighties. Everyone came.

You made profit.

They made complaints.

Eepy Crow’s CEO posted a long LinkedIn cry:

“We must ask: is this disruption or is this... toxicity?”

You posted a video of Toji beating an espresso machine with a chappal. Caption:

“This is what we do to machines that try to replace us.”

The Final Meet: Lodhi Garden.

You walked in: black shades, printouts, full Delhi 6 swag.

He brought: two angel investors, his gym bro, and a dog in a bandana.

“This isn’t how legacy behaves,” he said.

You didn’t sit. Just dropped the file.

“Legacy doesn’t mean jack if your coffee tastes like Noida divorce court.”

Gojo arrived late with parathas.

Sukuna livestreamed.

Toji flirted with their CFO.

Suguru watched a couple cry beside the pond and whispered, “Romance is dead. So is their funding.”

Nanami finally spoke:

“We’re going D2C exclusive. Six-week drop. Delhi only. Title: Sutta Aur Sudden Espresso.”

You left with a nod.

He left with PTSD.

Results:

Eepy Crow café “closed for rebranding.”

Your kiosk hit record footfall.

Your juniors dropped a rap:

“Chai ho ya coffee, startup toh yahi baap hai.”

Gojo tried to hug you. You ducked.

Nanami quit. Came back. Quit again.

Sukuna’s brand thread got published in The Ken and now has 200K Twitter followers. Fights Aranb Goswami daily.

Suguru got a cold DM from someone who just wrote “marry me.”

Toji is banned from four cafés.

And you drink black coffee on your office rooftop and whisper:

“Iss Dilli mein... revenge aur coffee dono kadak chahiye.”

Gojo watched from the office terrace as you laughed—full chest—with the juniors, sipping chaas and playing Uno.

You were barefoot.

Happy.

Not with him.

Just... in the world again.

He didn’t say anything.

Just sat near the glass door, laptop open.

Still trying.

Still your friend.

Just quietly now.

Bonus:

App Reviews:

“5 stars but Toji stole my scooter”

“Coffee slapped harder than my breakup. Would recommend.”

Gojo’s Bad LinkedIn Bio:

“Digital Nomad | Coffee Cultivator | Part-time Muse | Still finding myself (pls don’t contact HR)”

---

A/N: Thank you for reading this caffeine-drenched, unbrushed-hair revenge arc. I wrote this during a real-life budgeting breakdown & yes, I did threaten to bite someone in finance. Pls let me know in the comments: Who would survive a WeWork docuseries? Which jjk man should be handed over to SEBI? If Gojo should be allowed a driver’s license ever again? comments = legally binding NDAs saying you’ll fight legacy cafés with me hate = filtered like eepy crow’s espresso See you in court (or Khan Market) 💅☕

Next Chapter - Beedi, Budgets, & Bitching - [Tumblr/Ao3]

All Works Masterlist

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 6 months ago

Text

Almost-president Trump is off to a good start... Today's cartoon by Paolo Lombardi.

* * * * *

The sentencing and conviction of defendant Donald J. Trump.

January 11, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Transcript of proceedings in Department 59 of the New York County Supreme Court on January 10, 2025, in the matter of People v. Donald J. Trump.

Judge Juan Merchan: Let's impose a sentence, please.

Clerk: Donald Trump, you are before the court for sentence following your conviction by trial to 34 counts of falsifying business records in the first degree. Before being sentenced, the court will allow you, your attorney and assistant district attorney, an opportunity to address the court with any matters relevant to sentencing. [Who is appearing] for the people?

Assistant Manhattan DA Joshua Steinglass: The defendant in this case, as you know, stands convicted of 34 counts of falsifying business records in the first degree, all Class-E felonies. Each carries a range of authorized sentencing options from much as one-an-a-third to four years in state prison to a variety of non-incarceratory sentences.

In this court's January 3rd decision on the defendant's Clayton motion, Your Honor indicated an inclination to impose an unconditional discharge. Under all the circumstances of this case, its unique posture, and the defendant's status as president-elect, The People recommend a sentence of an unconditional discharge.

In finding the defendant guilty in this case, the jury necessarily found unanimously that the defendant falsified 34 separate entries in his business records with the intent to defraud, which included an intent to commit or conceal a conspiracy to promote his own election by unlawful means.

Having presided over the trial, your honor is very familiar with the conduct, its seriousness, and the overwhelming evidence to support the jury's verdict. I'm certainly not going to rehash that now.

In last week's decision on January 3rd, this court referred to the gravamen of the defendant's conduct, his criminal conduct in this case, as constituting "premeditated and continuous deception."

The verdict was delivered by a jury that was carefully chosen using an extensive questionnaire based on suggestions from both parties and after thorough questioning of the prospective jurors by both sides.

The verdict in this case was unanimous and decisive, and it must be respected.

As this court has observed, quote," the sanctity of a jury verdict and the deference that must be accorded to it is a bedrock principle in our nation's jurisprudence." The defendant's conduct before, during, and after this trial also merits consideration. Instead of preserving, protecting, and defending our constitutionally-established system of criminal justice, the defendant -- the once and future president of the United States -- has engaged in a coordinated campaign to undermine its legitimacy.

Far from expressing any kind of remorse for his criminal conduct, the defendant has purposefully bred disdain for our judicial institutions and the rule of law. And he's done this to serve his own ends and to encourage others to reject the jury verdict that he finds so distasteful. He has characterized these proceedings as "corrupt," "rigged," a "witch hunt," or a "sham" too many times to tabulate.

The defendant's rhetoric has only ratcheted up since this court's rulings on his motions to dismiss. He has been unrelenting in his unsubstantiated attacks upon this court and its family, individual prosecutors, and their families, the witnesses, the grand jury, the trial jury, and the justice system as a whole.

The defendant has not only been held in contempt by other jurists in other matters, but this court alone found the defendant in contempt for ten distinct violations of the order restricting extrajudicial speech. In his legal filings, the defendant has used dangerous rhetoric and leveling accusations of intentionally unlawful and unconstitutional conduct on the part of this court and the prosecution.

As this court has noted, the defendant's conduct "constitutes a direct attack on the rule of law itself. "

Moreover, the defendant has publicly threatened to retaliate against the prosecutors who have sought to hold him accountable in this and other matters and the courts who have endeavored to fairly and faithfully adjudicate these matters. Such threats are designed to have a chilling effect, to intimidate those who have the responsibility to enforce our laws in the hopes that they will ignore the defendant's transgressions because they fear that he is simply too powerful to be subjected to the same rule of law as the rest of us.

In his 2024 end of year report, United States Supreme Court Chief Justice Roberts warned of the dangers of such conduct. "public officials, too, regrettably, have engaged in recent attempts to intimidate judges.

For example, suggesting political bias and the judge's adverse rulings without credible basis for such allegations." Chief Justice Roberts continued, "Attempts to intimidate judges for their rulings are inappropriate and should be vigorously opposed. Public officials certainly have a right to criticize the work of the judiciary, but they should be mindful that intemperance in their statements when it comes to judges, may prompt dangerous reactions by others."

Chief Justice Roberts also spoke of the dangers of disinformation, which are "magnified by social media, which provides a ready channel to instantly spread rumor and false information."

Put simply, this defendant has caused enduring damage to public perception of the criminal justice system and has placed officers of the court in harm's way.

In the probation report which we just received this morning, the author -- having interviewed the defendant -- noted that the defendant sees himself as above the law and won't accept responsibility for his actions. And that's certainly consistent with everything else that we've seen.

Now, in a typical case, both the offense conduct and these other exacerbating factors would impact the appropriate sentence. But in this case, we must be respectful of the office of the presidency and mindful of the fact that the defendant will be inaugurated as president in ten days.

Any undischarged portion of the sentence has the potential to interfere with the defendant's performance of the duties of his office. As a practical matter, the most sensible sentence prior to his inauguration is an unconditional discharge. The court has expressed an inclination to do exactly that because, in the court's words, "The most viable solution to ensure finality and allow defendant to pursue his appellate options" is to proceed to sentence.

As you know in New York, an unconditional discharge is authorized by the penal law "if the court, having regard to the nature and circumstances of the offense and to the history, character, and condition of the defendant is of the opinion that neither the public interest nor the ends of justice would be served by a sentence of imprisonment and that probation supervision is not appropriate."

An unconditional discharge is authorized if a conditional discharge is authorized and if "The court is of the opinion that no proper purpose would be served by imposing any condition upon the defendant's release."

Because these crimes are felonies, the court must set forth in the record the reasons for its action.

The American public has the right to a presidency unencumbered by pending court proceedings or ongoing sentence-related obligations, but imposing this sentence ensures that finality. Sentencing the defendant permits this court to enter judgment to cement the defendant's status as a convicted felon while he pursues whatever appeals he intends to pursue, and it gives full effect and respect to the jury's verdict while preserving the defendant's ability to govern.

People, therefore, recommend that this court impose a sentence of an unconditional discharge. Thank you.

[Trump then delivers remarks that insult the court, the American people, and the rule of law.]

Judge Juan M. Merchan, Acting Justice of the Supreme Court: Thank you, Mr. Trump.

Mr. Trump, you appear before this court today to conclude this criminal proceeding by the imposition of sentence. Although I have taken the unusual step of informing you in advance of my inclinations before imposing sentence, I believe it is important for you as well as those observing these proceedings to understand my reasoning for the sentence I am about to impose.

The imposition of sentence is one of the most difficult and significant decisions that any criminal court judge is called upon to make. Our legislature sets the parameters for an authorized sentence, but it is a judge that must decide what constitutes a just conclusion to a verdict of guilty. A court is vested with broad discretion in determining what sources or evidence you may consider to arrive at an appropriate sentence. In doing so, the court must consider the facts of the case, along with any aggravating or mitigating circumstances.

In my time on the bench, I've been called upon to grapple with this weighty responsibility for countless defendants who have been found guilty after trial for an assortment of offenses ranging from nonviolent, class-E felonies to the most heinous of crimes, including homicides, sex trafficking, and child sexual abuse. The task is always difficult and deserving of careful consideration, whether the sentence be an unconditional discharge or incarceration of 25 years to life.

However, never before has this court been presented with such a unique and remarkable set of circumstances. Indeed, it can be viewed fairly that this has been a truly extraordinary case. There was unprecedented media attention, public interest, and heightened security involving various agencies. And yet, the trial was a bit of a paradox, because once the courtroom doors were closed, the trial itself was no more special, unique or extraordinary than the other 32 criminal trials that took place in this courthouse at the same exact time.

Jury selection was conducted. The same rules of evidence were followed. Opening statements were made, witnesses called and cross-examined, evidence presented, summations delivered. The same burden of proof was applied, and a jury made up of ordinary citizens delivered a verdict, and it was all conducted pursuant to the rules of procedure and guided by the law.

Of course, part of what made it feel somewhat ordinary was the outstanding work, preparation and professionalism of the clerks, court officers, court reporters, security personnel, and the entire staff of this building who did their jobs as they would with any other criminal trial.

So, while one can argue that the trial itself was in many respects somewhat ordinary, the same cannot be said about the circumstances surrounding this sentencing, and that is because of the office you once occupied and which you will soon occupy again. To be sure, it is the legal protections afforded to the Office of the President of the United States that are extraordinary, not the occupant of the office.

The legal protections, especially within the context of a criminal prosecution afforded to the Office of the President, have been laid out by our founders, the Constitution, and most recently interpreted by the United States Supreme Court in the matter of Trump v. The United States, which was decided on July 1st, 2024.

As with every other defendant in your position, it is my obligation to consider any and all aggravating or mitigating factors to inform my decision. Some of those aggravating factors have already been articulated in my Sandoval ruling at the start of this trial and by my recent written decisions on December 16th and January 3rd. Thus, they need not be repeated at this time. However, the considerable, indeed extraordinary legal protections afforded by the office of the Chief Executive is a factor that overrides all others.

To be clear, the protections afforded to the office of the president are not a mitigating factor. They do not reduce the seriousness of the crime or justify its commission in any way. The protections are, however, a legal mandate which, pursuant to the rule of law, this court must respect and follow. However, despite the extraordinary breadth of those protections, one power they do not provide is the power to erase a jury verdict.

It is clear from legal precedent -- which until July 1st was scarce -- that Donald Trump, the ordinary citizen, Donald Trump, the criminal defendant, would not be entitled to such considerable protections. I'm referring to protections that extend well beyond those afforded the average defendant who winds their way through the criminal justice system each day. No, ordinary citizens do not receive those legal protections.

It is the Office of the President that bestows those far-reaching protections to the officeholder, and it was the citizenry of this nation that recently decided that you should once again receive the benefits of those protections, which include, among other things, the Supremacy Clause and presidential immunity. It is through that lens and that reality that this court must determine a lawful sentence.

After careful analysis in obedience to governing mandates and pursuant to the rule of law, this court has determined that the only lawful sentence that permits entry of a judgment of conviction without encroaching upon the highest office in the land is an unconditional discharge, which the New York State Legislature has determined is a lawful and permissible sentence for the crime of falsifying business records in the first degree.

Therefore, at this time I impose that sentence to cover all 34 counts.

Sir, I wish you Godspeed as you assume your second term in office. Thank you.

Concluding Thoughts

The outcome of this case pleased no one. If Trump had not been re-elected and did not have a fabricated presidential immunity, he would have likely been sentenced to a jail term. But we would not have arrived at this point without the careful judicial management of Judge Juan Merchan and the civic dedication of twelve jurors and a courageous district attorney. We owe each of them an enormous debt of gratitude.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

#Robert B. Hubbell #Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter #TFG #Felon #convicted #the law #rule of law #transcript of sentencing #Paolo Lombardi #Judge Juan Merchan

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thehomophobe · 2 months ago

Text

You and the FNAF SB cast as told by incorrect quotes: Nerdy Prudes Must Die Edition

Chica: We never leave anyone behind.

(Y/N): Well I got left behind this morning. Bus driver's a fucking asshole.

Moon: I want to be invisible.

Roxy: *looks at Moon's fit* Then why do you come to public school dress in pajama pants and fucking glasses?

Roxy: Oh my god! You're micro-penis!

Sun: It's not actually a micro penis!

Sun: My titties are tenderized...

Monty: It's 3rd period shit lips. I've gotta get to "remedial algebra".

Monty: Oh, well there's a difference between "intent" and "impact".

Monty: I learned that at the anti-bullying assembly last month.

Monty: *after bullying Sun* Should I let him off with a warning?

Lackey: Haha Yeah! 😃*Monty glares at the Lackey*

(Y/N): Can I carry your books for you?

Sun: "Carry my books..."? I don't think either of us are ready for that, I mean we're only 18!

Claire: This is politics, (Y/N), learn to multi-task.

*Vanessa readies a hammer to smash

Roxy's phone."Roxy: NO! *puts her hand over her phone.

*Vanessa: *in complete confusion* Did you just throw your hand BETWEEN the hammer and the phone?

Sun: Y'know, like--Newton's law of motion, like physics.

Moon: This project's on thermodynamics. What the fuck are you talking about?

Chica: *looks to Sun* What was it like when she touched your arm...?

Chica: DID YOU CUM?!?!

Chica: FREDDY'S TALKING TO BONNIE!!!

(Y/N): NANI?!?!?!?!

*Sun on the phone with (Y/N)*

Chica: What is she saying? What the FUCK IS SHE SAYING?!

Sun: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

(Y/N): Excuse me? 🤨

Sun: You're telling me I've gotta be funny AGAIN? I didn't on purpose the first time!

Freddy: Me and Bonnie in carnal embrace? That's ridiculous.

Bonnie: Think you're better than me 'cuz you come from money?

Sun: Oh, no I-I think the bowtie gave you the wrong idea---I'm not rich.

Bonnie: E U G H. So you're a poor piece of shit then?

Bonnie: I did not consent to this rende-voos.

Freddy: Mom, will you pass the butt stuff?

Mother: 😃

Father: 😀Freddy: *completely flustered* The but-TER. BUT-TER. Will you pass the but-ter, heheh...I just want some head and butter---BREAD!

Mother: 😃

Father: 😀

Freddy: Bread and butt sex to go with this big shaft of meat I'm gonna choke down!

Sun: I've got butterflies in my tummy, and they're flying real low today...

*Claire in Dean Vanessa's office.

*Vanessa: Whoa whoa whoa whose plan was it Claire?

Claire: *having a mental breakdown* It's God plan!

Claire: And he's leaving me out to dry!

Claire: DO SOMETHING YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!

Moon: *points a knife* DON'T! FOLLOW MEH! *runs into the darkness*

Sun: Dagnammit. I need a DOGGONE drink. Give me a cup of hot water and make it strong.

(Y/N): Are we in trouble? Do we need to get hold of Lorelei?

Claire: Good luck getting a hold of her. Does your phone plan cover calls to hell?

(Y/N): Hell?

Claire: She's pansexual and dead, where else would she be?

Sun: *sobbing* I've done so many terrible things, like touching myself and lying to the police.

Lorelei: The souls of the pervs make me strong. >:)

Benison: Eyes on me.

😊Benison: (Y/N) Up here! 😠

Sun: *sighs sitting on a bench alone* I turned 40 today.

Roxy: They ended up studying out of sheer boredom

.Bonnie: Ew.

Chica: You all just watch each other pee? Oh it's better than I ever imagined ~.

Sun: Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda?

Chica: You're the bestest friend I've ever had.

Moon: Oh that's sad.

Monty: I love...to FUCK.

*Sun having a crisis*

Chica: It's all right Sun---

Roxy: Don't comfort him he's fucking weird.

Vanessa: On the ground bitch imma cop

Monty: Man something reeks.

Moon/(Y/N)/Lorelei: Sorry, that's me.

Sun: *on the phone* You don't say?

Sun: You don't say?

Freddy: What they find Sun?

Sun: They didn't say.

(Y/N): I knew him. I just hated his guts.

Claire: Not enough to kill though.

(Y/N): We both know you can't ignore me because you're crazy about me.

Sun: *in shock* WHAT?!

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