#Alleged Robbery

[albazay]

the only thing i like about being in my hometown for the holidays are the seasonal gossip sessions i have with my friends who are still here

[anarchomitsumi]

sorry but going back to luigi mangione. im so used to people who carry out political assassinations to just get shot on sight, or go into hiding with no way for the public to know their identity or motives. even if he is only the alleged shooter, it feels crazy to see him alive and get to see the public interact with the situation and demand authorities release him. he hasn't been killed by police so there's something to be fought for.

[odysseys-blood]

so officers can unload 3 full mags into a black woman's house over an alleged robbery sighting (it was her own home), shoot her 5 times (remember breonna taylor? we're not safe even at home) and the only consequence they face is administrative leave (they shot at her in her goddamn home over speculation.)

[suzukiblu]

Day six of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

"You're bluffing," the thief says flatly.

"And you're fucking stupid if you think this is the play that's getting you out of here," Kon snorts, tapping a foot against the floor. "C'mon, man, give it up. I've got plans tonight." 

"Use the artifact!" the alleged "Mark" yells at the thief holding it. 

"Right!" said thief says, then . . . pauses, and looks embarrassed. "How do I . . . do that?" 

Kon looks incredibly unimpressed. Tim empathizes. Deeply. 

"You guys need a minute there?" Kon asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Shut up!" Mark snaps at him. "Just use it, Lisa!" 

"I thought you said no names–" 

"Use it!" 

"Uh, right!" 

The thief chucks the little clay goat at Kon. Tim is genuinely embarrassed for this entire crew. 

Kon catches the goat one-handed, which is kind of a stupid idea, but letting it smash on the floor admittedly wouldn't look great. People over property, obviously, but Kon also historically has issues with property damage and letting the bad guys smash up ancient artifacts is not the best plan in general anyway. Especially given how often said ancient artifacts have ghosts or curses or apocalypses locked inside them. 

"Lisa!" the thieves all yell in horror.

"Was this the whole plan?" Kon asks, making a show of inspecting the goat. "Like, was this it? I can come back later, if you're still cooking on that."

Tim muffles a laugh with a snort. Kon definitely caught it, though, judging by his smug smirk. 

"Shut up, wannabe!" the thief still holding a gun to Tim's head snarls, which reminds Tim he should be pretending to care about the gun currently being held to his head. Honestly, he would in Gotham, but the only way this moron is shooting anybody is by accident. 

. . . admittedly, that is a concern, given the trigger discipline issue. Hm.

"Killing me would probably count as felony murder, just so you know," Tim mentions, glancing around the thieves. "Which you could all be charged with, not just whoever actually shot me. Plus I'm pretty sure stealing objects of cultural heritage from a museum is a federal crime."

He's completely sure of all that, actually, for obvious reasons, but he has to at least pretend to be a civilian here. Like, some effort needs to go into that illusion, if for no other reason than to avoid a Bat-lecture from Bruce or, worse, a Bat-"I'm not mad, just disappointed" from Dick. 

Or, worst, Alfred might make disapproving shortbread instead of approving jammy dodgers for post-patrol tonight. That'd be really unfortunate. Tim could really use an approving jammy dodger tonight. He's already going to have to write up a very annoying incident report of this situation as it is, and also deal with the mortification of getting his neck saved by a Super. There is no dignity in that. At all. 

He is definitely never telling the team his secret identity. At least not until he's absolutely positive Kon hasn't inherited any of Superman's eidetic memory, anyway. He's ninety-nine percent sure he hasn't, but that last percent is a definite concern right now. 

"No one asked your opinion, brat!" Mark snaps, though a few of the other thieves now look extremely uneasy. Tim makes another mental note about their crew's obvious lack of prep time and general planning and continues to be embarrassed for them. Museum robberies in Gotham are themed events with careful research and preparation involved, and frankly usually involve more thoughtful effort than whatever gala they may or may not be crashing did. Smash and grab is for convenience stores and small-timers. And these guys are definitely small-timers, but this is equally definitely not a convenience store.

Metropolis is so weird. Why anyone even bothers doing petty crime in it at all is beyond Tim. Maybe they're just banking on Superman being more concerned with natural disasters and alien invasions and rescuing cats from trees, which is a valid strategy. Same theory as splitting up and making a cohesive group into multiple targets.

"He has the idol!" Lisa hisses, glaring at Kon like she's not the one who threw it at him to begin with. Tim gets a gun barrel jammed into his temple again. He has no idea why Trigger Discipline: What Not To Do thinks that's, like . . . a productive thing to do. At this rate he's going to get a bruise or something.

Well, he's not actually doing it hard enough to hurt, admittedly, though Tim does keep expecting it to. The guy looks like he's putting his back into it, but the impacts continue not to actually hurt, so Tim supposes he's just trying to put on a show here. 

Well, at least he's putting in some effort, Tim supposes. That's something. 

"I really do have plans tonight, you know," Kon reminds them, raising an eyebrow at the thieves again. 

"I would appreciate you delaying those, actually," Tim mentions. "If you don't mind, I mean." 

"Oh, yeah, don't sweat it, dude," Kon says, waving him off. "These people are annoying but I'm not gonna ditch out on you here, that's not your fault." 

"Don't ignore us!" one of the unnamed thieves yells. "And give the idol back!" 

"I have no idea why you would expect me to do that," Kon says. 

"I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim threatens, jamming the gun barrel into his head again. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure that dude was right about the felony murder thing, so maybe don't?" Kon says, inspecting the little clay goat again. "Hm. This thing is actually kinda cute." 

"It is, isn't it," Tim agrees. "I thought it looked like a kid's toy."

"Oh yeah, I can see that," Kon says, squinting assessingly at it. "Like those chunky toddler ones?" 

"Yeah, like those," Tim confirms with a nod. "Fisher-Price, Duplo, that kind of thing." 

"I'll take your word on that one, man, my 'toddler' stage only lasted about half a day and I was sedated for it," Kon replies in amusement. Tim seethes internally and thinks very uncharitable thoughts about Cadmus. 

"I said I'll shoot!" the thief holding him says furiously, tightening his arm across Tim's neck. It's still not actually enough to hurt, but again, Tim appreciates seeing a little more effort. "Give us the idol, you stupid brat!" 

"I'm trying to help you out here," Kon says, looking exasperated. "You're just making shit worse for yourself the longer you keep this up. Put down the gun and let the guy go, you'll get a way lighter sentence." 

"Fuck you!" the thief shouts. "The power of the idol will protect us!" 

"The idol that I am currently holding, you mean?" Kon says, hefting it meaningfully. "The one that is in specifically my possession and not yours?" 

Tim does understand that talking people down is the preferred approach and Kon can't actually super-speed this problem away, but Kon could at least pretend to be taking this seriously. From his perspective, there's a civilian hostage with a gun to their head and an angry criminal with their finger on the trigger, but he's acting like there isn't any danger in the situation at all.

Tim gets the posturing thing and the general "cooler than thou" attitude Kon likes to present, but it's definitely not making any of the thieves calm down. Like, not at all is it making any of the thieves calm down. 

This incident report is going to be very annoying to write. 

"It's not yours!" Lisa shrieks at him. 

"You literally threw it at me," Kon says. "I only have it because you threw it at me. Also pretty sure it's not yours either, given all the screaming alarms and broken glass and the smashed-in wall I am currently standing in the wreckage of."

Tim starts wondering if maybe he should revisit his "tripping" plan. He doesn't really want to pull any Robin-esque moves in front of Kon, but also dying would really fuck up all that hard work he's put into being Bruce's emotional support sidekick. Also two dead Robins in a row could not possibly end well. Especially in such a stupid way. Especially in Metropolis. 

"You don't even know what you're holding, you idiot!" Lisa fumes.

"A toddler toy, I thought we established," Kon says. "'Doopler' or something?"

"Duplo," Tim corrects, internally calculating tripping angles. 

"That one, yeah," Kon amends. "Doppo." 

Tim, resignedly, thinks his determined commitment to pointlessly fucking up is adorable. Also still hates Cadmus and has the irrational urge to buy him a teddy bear or something, although Kon would definitely just think he was fucking with him if he did.

Maybe he could just smuggle one into his room and disavow all knowledge of its existence. That's an option. 

"Give us the idol now!" the thief holding Tim snarls, his face twisting in rage. 

"Yeah, no," Kon says. 

"You little–!" the thief starts to yell, and then his trigger finger slips. Tim knows this because the gun goes off right next to his ear. 

And right against his temple. 

Half the room screams and the thief yells and drops the gun, recoiling in horror. It goes off again as it hits the floor and a bullet shatters a historically-significant vase the way one should have shattered Tim's personally-significant skull. 

What the fuck?

"Shit, sorry, that was probably kinda loud," Kon says apologetically, wincing a little but otherwise looking completely unphased by all of that. Tim blinks, very slowly, and attempts to restore his resting heart rate. It's not a particularly successful attempt.

"Yeah, kinda," he says.

"Sorry, sound waves are harder to block," Kon apologizes, pointing at his own ear with his free hand, and Tim remembers the other's total lack of concern for any threat to civilian life this whole time and realizes that was because, from Kon's perspective, there wasn't any actual threat.

Huh. 

Well, that explains why neither the gun barrel nor the being choked thing actually hurt at any point, doesn't it.

"Oh," Tim says, looking down at the floor that they are, in fact, all still standing on. "Tactile telekinesis?"

"You've heard of it?" Kon says, looking pleased. 

"Once or twice," Tim says, managing not to say it too dryly. Kon looks even more pleased. "I didn't know you could use it like that, though." 

"Practice makes perfect," Kon replies smugly.

[offender42085]

Post 1328

Kory George, Vermont inmate 80243, born 1988, incarceration intake May 2019 at age 32, scheduled for release October 2037

Conspiracy to commit Murder, with prior convictions for Escape from Custody, Providing False Information, Possession of a Regulated Drug, Driving with a Suspended License, Possession of a Depressant/Stimulant/Narcotic, Burglary, Grand Larceny, Assault and Robbery with a Weapon, Petty Larceny, and Violation of a Release Agreement

In April 2019, a former Bristol Vermont man was sentenced to at least 18 years in prison for conspiring with his mother to kill her husband, who was also his stepfather.

Both the judge and the victim’s sister chastised George during the sentencing in Chittenden County Superior criminal court in Burlington, with Judge Kevin Griffin calling the circumstances of the crime “horrific.” 

Judge Griffin said he was willing to accept the plea agreement reached by the prosecution and the defense. The judge then sentenced George under the terms of that deal to 35 years to life in prison, all suspended except 18 years to serve in prison. 

Prosecutors have alleged Angela Auclair (Vermont inmate 159925), George’s mother who was married to David Auclair, pulled the trigger in the fatal shooting. The 51-year-old pleaded guilty to the same charge as George as part of a plea agreement. 

4s

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Jan 7, 2025

It’s very easy to judge the past, particularly when you’re on the ‘right side of history’. What supreme confidence it must take to assume that all previous generations had got it so wrong, and that humanity was simply waiting for you to turn up and set them straight.

And yet isn’t it curious that so many who like to judge the values and behaviour of people in the past are also rarely willing to turn that critical eye on other cultures that exist today? According to the principle of cultural relativism, all societies and ways of life are equal. So we must not assert that we are morally better to a culture that permits the genital mutilation of children or that denies women an education, but we may assume that we are highly superior to the Ancient Greeks.

This debate has become particularly relevant with the recent explosion of interest in the rape gangs scandal. A report by Professor Alexis Jay in 2022 determined that more than 1,400 young girls were raped and abused in the period between 1997 and 2013 by what became known as the ‘grooming gangs’, so called because of the manipulative tactics that were employed to gain the victims’ trust. These groups comprised mostly of men of Pakistani heritage, which led many authorities to overlook the severity of the crimes.

Consider this example from a speech delivered by Andrew Norfolk, reporter for the Times. When police discovered a 13-year-old girl, drunk and mostly naked in the company of seven Pakistani men, they arrested her and failed to question any of the adults.

Police have admitted that such failures to investigate were largely down to a desire to avoid allegations of racism. The Jay report noted that several members of local council staff ‘described their nervousness about identifying the ethnic origins of perpetrators for fear of being thought as racist; others remembered clear direction from their managers not to do so’. Politicians and media commentators were more concerned with maintaining the fantasy that multiculturalism has been a success, rather than taking seriously their obligation to safeguard children. When Julie Bindel - the first journalist to investigate the grooming gangs - tried to publish her findings, she faced resistance ‘because some editors feared an accusation of racism’.

The Labour government has shown itself incapable of making amends. Jess Phillips has rejected a request for a public inquiry into child sexual exploitation in Oldham. And Keir Starmer has stated that anyone interested in a full-scale inquiry into these failings is jumping ‘on a bandwagon of the far right’.

This acute form of tone-deafness would, in any sound political climate, be cause for immediate resignation. While it is true that racists will be quick to weaponise the criminal behaviour of a minority, there is nothing remotely ‘far right’ in taking an interest in the wellbeing of children and wishing to see those who abuse them held to account. But Starmer is a banshee of a prime minister; he makes a terrible noise but is completely lacking in substance.

Something may change with the release this week of crime league tables according to nationality. Up until now, there has been tremendous political resistance to releasing such statistics, with police in many European countries not recording such details at all in order to preserve the daydream of multiculturalism. And yet those that do keep such records have revealed a clear trend. Data from the Danish government, for instance, has shown that although non-Western immigrants constitute only 9% of the population, they account for 25% of convictions for violent crime. According to the Telegraph, in Sweden immigrants are ‘three times more likely to be registered as a suspect for assault than the native population – which grows to four times for robbery, and five times for rape’.

And now, in the UK, data from the police forces, the Home Office and the Office for National Statistics has been analysed by the Centre for Migration Control. The results are startling. We now know that foreign nationals are three times more likely to be arrested for sexual offences, and twice as likely for all other crimes. This table from the Home Office shows the top rates of arrests according to nationality (per one thousand of the population).

This presents a challenge to those of us who believe in liberal values. We might factor in relative poverty as contributing to the rates, but this in itself cannot possibly account for the wild disproportionality. Our history of supporting those fleeing from war or oppression is something we should cherish, but at the same time citizenship should be contingent on successful integration. This isn’t to say that immigrants ought to dispense with their own beliefs or practices, but it does mean that they must adapt to the rule of law of the host nation.

We all know that multiculturalism has failed. German Chancellor Angela Merkel said as much back in 2010, before she embarked upon a disastrous policy of unchecked immigration. Too often ‘multiculturalism’ is mistaken for ‘multiethnicity’, when they could not be more different. A multi-ethnic society is one in which people of all races are able to coexist together in peace and cooperation as equal citizens under the law. A multi-cultural society is one in which people are encouraged to ghettoise themselves according to national or cultural identity.

This has been a catastrophe not only for social cohesion but also for individual agency. In 2016, when prime minister David Cameron announced a £20 million fund for English lessons for the 22% of Muslim women in the UK who could not speak the language, he was accused of ‘stigmatising’ a marginalised group. In truth, he was doing the opposite. Women in Islamic communities are disproportionately impacted by the failed multicultural system, because encouraging parallel societies only benefits the most powerful within them. Sharia courts in the UK, for instance, have always favoured men over women, and yet they are allowed to continue.

Cultural relativism has never been defensible. We are right to condemn slavery wherever and whenever it has existed, and we should have the confidence to do so. Likewise, we should be assertive in our view that a culture that treats women and gay people as subhuman is not morally equivalent to one that does not. This is not about asserting ‘supremacy’ of either a racial or religious kind, it’s about treating all human beings in the same way, irrespective of their place of origin or immutable characteristics.

Some cultural values are superior to others, and it should not be controversial to say so. True inclusivity and equality means holding everyone to the same standards. This realisation has come too late to save the victims of the rape gangs scandal, but at least the illusion of multiculturalism as a societal good has finally been dispelled.

==

You don't get to lecture people about "the true facts" when you refuse all calls for a complete inquiry into the scandal, and brand anyone who wants one "far right."

Fuck, you can't even claim to know "the true facts" without an full inquiry.

Starmer has done exactly what created this problem in the first place: brand anyone concerned about the problem as a racist or a bigot, while doing nothing about it.

He'll be out before the end of the month. People will not tolerate this level of gaslighting.

[beardedmrbean]

A Honduras gang member who was illegally in the US “giggled” as he admitted kidnapping a young Texas woman at gunpoint and threatening to pimp her out and sell her organs, according to cops.

Eduardo Javier Ordonez Godoy, 35, was busted after a 22-year-old woman was abducted by a masked man at 4:45 a.m. Christmas Eve and driven around for nearly an hour before being left tied to a tree, according to charging documents obtained by Fox 4 News.

Godoy had been arrested before for similar crimes — and deported back to Honduras, where he admits he is affiliated with a violent gang, police told the outlet.

The illegal immigrant then allegedly confessed to the abduction, showing no remorse for a crime that the unidentified victim said left her fearing for her life.

“He smirked a lot, he giggled, and, you know, was almost proud of what he did,” Haltom City Police Sergeant Rick Alexander told FOX 4 News.

“He claims he’s just a thief. He wants money,” Alexander continued. “But, you know, in this case, clearly he went beyond that and brought a firearm into it.”

Godoy allegedly abducted the woman at 4:45 a.m. on Christmas Eve, forcing her into the backseat of her car as she headed to work in Haltom City, just outside of Fort Worth, police said.

He then forced her to withdraw money — then drove her around for nearly an hour while threatening to “sell her organs” and “prostitute her,” according to the charging documents.

The alleged kidnapper then drove to an apartment complex about 22 miles away in Grapevine, where he tied the woman’s hands to a tree with her shoelaces and left her there as he fled in her car.

The woman managed to free herself and called the police.

She was unharmed but told officers Godoy’s comments had made her fear for her life.

“Obviously she was terrified,” Alexander said. “No one expects this kind of thing walking outside early in the morning on Christmas Eve.”

The stolen vehicle was entered into law enforcement databases, and was spotted in a parking lot by a police officer on Christmas Day in Oklahoma City, some 200 miles away. 

Godoy was arrested and is being held in jail in Oklahoma City where he is charged with unauthorized use of a vehicle, use of a firearm while committing a felony and misdemeanors. 

He’s also facing aggravated kidnapping and aggravated robbery charges in Haltom City.

Godoy has an active ICE detainer hold because of his immigration status, police said.

[iww-gnv]

A federal administrative judge with the National Labor Relations Board -- which oversees labor issues and allegations of unfair workplace practices -- ruled on Tuesday that Starbucks unlawfully fired two Colorado baristas who were involved in organizing a union at their locations and in a recommended order, said the company should rehire them and give them back pay. Judge Mara-Louise Anzalone ruled that Starbucks unlawfully terminated Ryan Dinaro from a Denver location and Joseph Mathis in Colorado Springs due to their union activities, in violation of the National Labor Relations Act. "I am planning to return to Starbucks to fight for a contract because my coworkers deserve better," Dinaro said in a statement released by Starbucks Workers United. "They deserve stable hours so they can consistently keep healthcare and tuition. They deserve safety committees to remind management that attempted robbery, menacing, and assault on property is not normal, and security upgrades are desperately needed. They deserve a standard pay raise schedule so they don't need to beg management."

[wingedsirens]

GUITARS AND STOLEN JEWELLERY

hobie brown x black cat reader

You’ve been the city’s Black Cat for a while now, and it’s time for you to meet Spiderman.

There was one thing on your mind. As you scaled the drainpipe of a tall building, you went over the mission in your mind. Quick robbery, inside and out. You pushed yourself to the roof of the building, before setting your sights on the high rise apartment block.

Clad in glass, there resided your victim - Claus Parley. Shitty millionaire, even shittier person. There was no limit to what he’d done; or what he was accused of. Still, every allegation has to be truthful in some way, right?

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, you marvelled at the city beneath you. London was ugly at best, but from up here, it looked beautiful. You enjoyed the night, especially ones this temperature. It was cold enough not to sweat, but warm enough not to freeze. It helped.

Reaching the block, you easily found a way in, courtesy to an open window close enough for you to leap to. Creeping through this random strangers apartment, you snagged a few pieces of jewellery as you left. If they could afford to live here, they were rich - it wasn’t like they’d miss them.

You’d been surveying Claus Parley for a few weeks now. He lived on the twelfth floor, ninth door along. But tonight, he wouldn’t be in - he had been invited to a strange little gala that celebrated who knows what. More importantly, that meant he was out of his apartment for the night.

His place was easier to locate than you thought it would be. You tried the handle, and sure enough, it was locked. Retrieving a lock pick from the small pocket in the side of your suit, you managed to get it open in less then thirty seconds. Rich people really needed better security.

You stole through the cool air, checking every room and scanning all of the surfaces for anything of value, before you found the jackpot. His safe was hidden in the top of his wardrobe, placed behind three shoeboxes. Placing it on the bed, you guessed the code a few times before guessing correct. Opening the door, you looked at the contents.

Several stacks of cash were stuffed messily at the side, which you gladly pocketed. Three watches in faux velvet boxes were placed in a row, and you brought them out to have a look. One fake, two real. You took the real ones and placed them in another hidden pouch, and then you found what you were looking for.

Stuffing the leather pouch into the same pocket as the watches, you shut the safe and placed it back in the wardrobe, moving the shoeboxes in front of it like how it was prior. It wasn’t the same, but you doubted he would notice. Casting one more look over the bedroom, you slipped out as quick as you came.

Getting out of the building was harder then getting in: first you had to get to the rooftop, then find an object to attach to your zip line, then getting on the zip line, and then you were on another roof. Depending on the distance between that and the next, you had to use the zip line again, or you had to vault your way over like a cat.

You were lucky this time. There was a long stretch of buildings that were flat topped, and easy to jump across. You did just that, barely getting out of breath. After about ten minutes of zipping across rooftops, you sat down, and looked at your small haul.

The jewellery would fetch a lot if you sold it to the right people. The watches would too, by the looks of it they looked like Breitling ones. And then, in the leather pocket, was your real target. You took it out and admired the piece of metal, cool and slippery in your hand.

All of a sudden, you heard a thump on the rooftop behind you. Shoving your haul into your suit, you turned around, on your feet instantly on the ground. Surveying the roof to see who your intruder was, your eyes finally settled on the guy leaning against a chimney. Most of his slim frame was doused in shadow, the only thing able to make out were the spikes that were somehow embedded on his head.

“Was wondering if I’d ever get to meet you, Black Cat.“ He said, putting emphasis on the last two words. As he walked forwards, you recognised him. He wore the some of the largest platforms you’d seen, and his trademark leather jacket, complete with the largest collection of pins you’d never seen up close. And yet, you’d seen him on the news enough to know who this man was.

“Spider Punk.” You said, cocking your head to the side, smirk playing on your lips. He mirrored your expression, almost mockingly, looking you up and down. “So, what innocent person are you stealin’ from now?” He replied, copying your head movements.

“They’re far from innocent, Spidey.” You said, walking around him, discreetly admiring his look. He was cool, you couldn’t disagree. “Well, you’ve been jumping around these rooftops so much I can’t fuckin’ tell who it was.” He joked. You sighed, pointing up.

“See that building? Yeah, there are a shit ton of millionaires that don’t even know what security is. And one of them even has his stuff in the worst quality safe I’ve ever seen. It would be a crime not to take it.” You grinned. “Still pissed?”

“I mean, I can let it slide. On one condition, kitty.” He said, walking around you. You pouted sarcastically, dropping it a second later. “And what’s that, Spidey?” Making sure you had everything with you, you slowly edged towards the side of the roof. He was new to you, and while that intrigued you, your defences were still up. He couldn’t interrupt everything you had going on.

“What are you gonna do with the cash?” He asked you, moving closer to you unexpectedly. You could hear his breathing. “Well, I happen to have someone I know who’s about to have a child, and she did not have the facilities for it. Or, the money for it. So, I’m giving some of it to her. The rest is going to a food bank. And obviously, I’m getting a cut.” You replied. He chuckled. “What, so are you some kind of Robin Hood?”

“You could call it that.” You said, leaning back on the same chimney he appeared on. “You know, I thought you’d be more impressed, that with your, um, anarchist movement.” You gestured to his badges as you talked.

“Never said I wasn’t impressed.” He said. You smirked. “Now usually, I’d ask for you to elaborate, but I’m sort of pushed for time. I’d love to continue this, but I have deadlines to make.” To be honest, you were due home in three hours, but there was something about this conversation that was putting you on edge.

“No worries, I’ll be quick.” He moved closer, and you stayed stock still. “I can’t lie, Black Cat. I’ve been keepin’ track of you for a while.” He added, waiting to see your reaction. You only smiled, leaning forward for a moment. “I can’t lie and say I haven’t been keeping track of you either, Spider Punk.” You replied, turning around in preparation to leave.

“Not my name, kitty.” You heard him shout from behind you. Turning around a final time, you looked back to him, the wind biting at your face. “What would you prefer?” You shouted back at him, still walking to the ledge. Even as you jumped, you still heard his response, carried by the wind.

You laughed. Not daring to look back, you landed on the roof with ease. Spidey it was, as per his request.

a/n: honestly i fucking hate this so much but yayy? it’s finished ig. ALSO I PROMISE I’M DOING MY REQUESTS IT JUST TAKES ME AGES I’M SO SORRY AHH!!?!! lmk if you enjoyed, honestly would love to do a part 2.

[heartfullofleeches]

Y/N watching the news one day

News report: “Investigators puzzled to see the body found just last night completely missing without a trace”

Y/N: “Huh.. isn’t that near the place Devlin said he was gonna-”

Devlin suddenly climbing through the damn window: “Hey honey-! Stop screaming it’s just me. You won’t believe the night I just had!!”

Your spoon falls out your hand as the news coverage begins.

"Breaking news, Body found in robbery gone wrong has gone missing. The injuries sustained in the incident are alleged to be fatal and police expect to find the body, or an accomplice soon. Now showing live footage of the gruesome message the suspect left behind."

The camera pans to a blood smeared window. In the blur you catch a glimpse of that convenience store he always visited to satisfy a late night craving - just like he had tonight. He couldn't. Devlin wasn't the most law abiding citizen around, but as your partner of two you thought you knew him well enough to believe he wouldn't do something this stupid. Your stomach drops as the camera focuses on the scratched out letters.

"Let's get hitched! ♡"

You feel bile crawl up your throat. If I make this shot, let's get hitched, yeah? He was terrible at basketball ball. He failed so many of the little bets he made for your hand - grinning like he had nothing to loose everytime. There was no bet this time. He was being serious, in his own fucked up way that used to the highlight of his charm. But this time he had taken it too far. This had to be a joke, right?- A terrible, selfish prank, but if so you could just scold him for it and hate him for a day - and still be in his arms by night. He's not dead. He couldn't be. This isn't funny.

A rock flying through your window tears you from the gallows of grief - obscenities bled into the quiet night as a body joins it on your living room floor. Dusting broken glass off its coat, the corpse produces a shiny ring. His smile contorts with the bullet wound spilt through his cheek.

"Babes- I'm home! Turn on the 12 o'clock news- Wait- Why are you screaming?"

You toss a pillow at him, backing yourself into the corner. "S-stay back!

Devlin checks his reflection in the broken glass. "You're right I look like dogshit. Probably not the best look for an engagement party - but! Ya love me anyway."

"The news... Those wounds.. How are you even standing?"

"Yeaaaa, so - crazy story, but I'm immortal and have been alive for like a thousand years. I probably should've mentioned that at the beginning of the relationship, but I was so excited to lock you down I sorta forgot. Sorry about that."

Devlin closes the distance between you and leads you to the couch. You're too emotional stunned to resist.

"How did this happen?....."

"Tonight? Another insane story, but after I got high in your bathroom and went to get supplies to make us something to eat I saw some guys robbing the jewelry story across the street, and I just knew the universe was telling me to finally put a ring on your finger. Got shot, but my records would just show some dead bitch so we're in the clear. I love ya, babes. And I'm gonna figure out a way for us to be together forever."

Devlin slips the ring on your finger and kisses your knuckles. "Wanna hit up the waffle house when it opens in like... five minutes?"

[morbidology]

Growing up in the projects in New York, Jonathan Luna always dreamed of going to college and making his family proud. He graduated from Fordham University and the law school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He eventually settled down in Elkridge, Baltimore, where he got married and had two sons while working as an Assistant United States Attorney.

The 4th of December, 2003, started just like any other day for Jonathan. He kissed his family goodbye before departing for work. He had been working on a trial which involved two men who were suspected in running a drug ring. One of the men was also facing a murder charge. Jonathan had spent the entire evening working on the case and left a voice message to a co-worker at approximately 9PM that night, saying he was ready to go home and that he would see him the following morning.

They were going to offer the two men a plea deal and Jonathan said he was going to work on it at home throughout the night so it would be ready for the morning. According to the clocking out system in his office car park, Jonathan didn’t leave the officer until 11:38PM, leaving behind his phone and glasses, which he needed to drive.

What happened next is shrouded in speculation.

At around 1AM, Jonathan’s car entered Delaware where $200 was lifted from an ATM. He then crossed into New Jersey and on to Pennsylvania at around 4AM. His E-Z Pass was used on the I-95 into Delaware but after this, he started to purchase toll tickets. His car was then parked behind a Sensenig & Weaver in Denver, Pennsylvania. At around 5:30AM, a worker of Sensenig & Weaver arrived to discover the discarded car with blood smeared all over the door and the front of the car.

When the worker peered into the car window, he found a large puddle of blood on the back seat and back footwell. The car was partially in a creek and underneath the car, the worker discovered Jonathan’s bloody body. He had sustained 36 stab wounds with his own penknife.

The pathologist that performed the autopsy said that Jonathan's hands had been “shredded” and that his scrotum and throat had both been slashed before he drowned to death in the creek. Inside the car, detectives found that the purchased toll tickets had blood smeared on them, indicating that he was already injured when purchasing the tickets. Additionally, the puddle of blood in the back seat indicated that he hadn’t been driving the car, but somebody else.

While the death was initially ruled as a homicide, “law enforcement sources” soon began to speculate that he had taken his life and thus a smear campaign on Jonathan’s reputation was born. It was soon reported that Jonathan had most likely been involved in a robbery case in which $36,000 went missing. The Baltimore Sun implied that Jonathan was involved in the robbery and had ended his life because he feared losing his job. Everybody that knew Jonathan had nothing but pleasant words to say about him and found the allegations to be “a well timed hit job on Luna’s reputation.” The FBI ascertained that Jonathan had ended his own life but the local Lancaster counter authorities were adamant that he had been murdered.

What happened to Jonathan Luna from the moment he left his place of employment until he ended up stabbed and slashed in a murky creek still remains a mystery.

While the FBI believes he ended his own life, this leaves too many question. For one, how could he have driven approximately 95 miles without his glasses? Why did he switch from using his E-Z Pass to toll tickets? Why would he have stabbed himself 36 times as well as slashing his scrotum, throat, and hands? What would motivate him to end his life when he was known by all to be an upbeat, full of life, family man? The case still remains open with a $100,000 reward for information leading to a conviction.

[quartztwst]

list of crimes quartz has (allegedly) committed:

-tax fraud

-smoking crack

-being gay in public

Don't forget the breaking and entering, robbery, treason, distribution of drugs at a high school, accidental premeditated murder, and going 70 in a school zone

Which are alleged and I HAVE NOT DONE THESE THINGS THEY ARE FRAMING ME

[popawritter12]

Hey hey heyyy im back with another request (im the same anon who requested that yandere morgana piece u wrote, absoutely loved it btw ate it up) and i was wondering if you could write some yandere! Hwei x reader? (fanfic or headcanons is up to you!) maybe the reader is an artist as well and they bond over that? Idk man up to you, also love ur takes on characters ur legit one of the best LoL writers ive seen!!

Btw if you dont mind can i be the 🍊 anon? Ive seen other blogs have their emoji anons and i wanna be one so bad fhdbfh

Hope youre having a nice day!!

Author's Notes: Of course 🍊 anon! I would love to <3

I also got tired of making so many headcanons (believe it or not, I have more saved in my drafts), I'm going to write a one-shot. I hope you like it <3. I also appreciate that you like my work. It's especially nice to know that there's someone who enjoys what I do besides me. By the way, I think Hwei is not in the Yandere “tier list” of LoL, so from how I write him and how I see him, I assume that he is a “Normal” type, because his personality reminds me a little of Ayano from Yandere simulator jjjjjjjjjj

Ｏ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Yandere! Hwei x Fem! reader

Yandere character: Hwei From the videogame/anime/manga/movie/series: League Of Legends Case: Mention of stalking, allegation of theft, robbery and kidnapping. Part: 1 of 1 Warning: Excessive text LOL

Ｏ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Obedience.

You had heard that word for so long that it was already embedded in your memory. But not in the way most expected.

You hated that word, and for that same reason you almost never hung out with the teachers or students of the temple you went to.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves, we better go to the beginning.

You had been born into a family that had never been close to other nations apart from Ionia, your mother was a strict woman, sometimes bordering on abusive, who always hated temples. Especially religions… Let's say she never had good experiences with it.

And your father, oh your beloved father… He was a saint in every sense of the word. He was kind, a joker… And a smile was always on his face. He had never yelled, in fact even when he was angry, he would just sit in the corner, ignoring everything around him until his mind cooled down.

And, being an only child, your life around them was quite chaotic. While your mother always tried to stay out of her entire family situation—a rather complex issue even for you—your father was the “husband of the house,” so to speak. He was in charge of teaching you both cooking and home care in general, including carpentry and, mainly, the art of home decoration.

He always dreamed of being a great artist, but in his family it was never frowned upon for a man to make the decision to undertake such a complex world of art, because, you know… that's a “women's thing.” But anyway, a lot of things have happened since the last time you talked to your uncles and cousins so… They aren't very important in your life right now.

But do you know that it is important? Where did you study.

Your father insisted a lot on your talent with sculptures and the human form; You really liked making ceramic vases manually, so much so that from the age of 8 you made your first sculpture; It was the strange shape of a dog with small eyes and a giant nose. At the time you barely knew how to paint sculptures, and your father barely knew about sculptures, and the shape of it so… Let's say it looked more like an "alebrije" than a dog with a big nose.

But that was a long time ago, and now the only proof of that memory is the figure on your father's furniture; kept as a beautiful memory.

As time went by your sculptures became more complex; from simple vases for flowers to sculptures with human figures of such a level that, at this point, we could compare them with the statues of Michelangelo.

And your father wanted that talent to be exploited to the fullest. So, after years of arguing with your mother, they both agreed that you should go to the great temple where you would learn about the art.

But there was a small problem, one that was going to haunt you a lot.

You weren't used to how strict that school was.

The first and second day at that school were quite chaotic for you. It wasn't just because it wasn't as you expected, but because everything was very limited.

If you wanted to make art, you had to do it how they wanted, when they asked you to, and how they expected it. However, not only was that not your style, but it seemed like the teachers (especially the principal) always had one eye on you. And only for a few weeks did you endure that strict issue of obedience.

But there was one boy who was particularly kind to you, and he was a young man of always unkempt appearance. His dark circles always stood out on his face, along with his hair that was rarely organized in a linear manner. From the first time he saw you, he felt charmed by the way you expressed yourself; You were good at painting and using magic, but when he saw the ceramic sculptures you made…damn, you really drove him crazy.

But you obviously didn't notice, you were too focused on trying to get along with your surroundings in general that you didn't notice his desperate attempts to get along with you.

However, in the pleasant conversations you had with him, you always saw him as the stereotype of the exemplary boy; someone who dedicated his entire life to his art, to the temple and was admired by everyone for his great talent. You thought he was assured of a great future thanks to his eccentric abilities.

And you, unlike most, learned very well from your mother that you could not let yourself be trampled; especially by anyone you barely knew. So the blood that ran through your veins and the passion for your own art that you kept for so long was slowly being tied to be limited, but with barely strong ropes. It hurt a lot to know that you were in a place that didn't belong to you, it was as if you were a squirrel in the Freljord, or a mouse in a perfume store.

And in the end, when you mentioned all these things to your mother, she didn't take it very well.

—Did you really go through all this while you were in that temple? —She asked, a cigarette between her fingers as she arranged her needles on the table.

You just nodded your head, not looking at your mother at all. The woman, at this, clicked her tongue.

—I knew that those bitches are only good for the basics, they didn't evolve at all —The woman brought the cigarette to her lips, taking a gentle drag —so, do you know something, my child? Send them to hell.

You were used to her bad vocabulary, so much so that at this, you just nodded your head again.

—I know perfectly well that you are not like me, that you want to venture out and learn about “the ways of art” and that I know —The woman moved her free hand in the air, while with the other she only lightly squeezed the cigarette. —, but if you're going to go alone so that that bunch of nuts can do you less, I'm going to get you out even by kicking you in the ass.

Your mother was tough as a chain in the teeth, and you knew that she couldn't last long without making trouble in the temple if there was someone bothering her only daughter. She cared very little if it was a student, a teacher or even the founder of the temple himself —Even though she knows that she died a long time ago— she would go and give her her dose of shit if she messed with the pride of her as a mother.

She advised you to kick their ass if they messed with you, but your father later talked to you about it, advising that you couldn't take all your feelings and thoughts to such an extreme, but that you should think coldly, and not give importance to people that were not to your specific liking, regardless of their social status. You were no less for coming from a family that came from the middle of nowhere.

During your temple walk, you always walked alone, which gave you plenty of time to think about your actions; You had been passive most of the time, however, more than once you let out those classic off-color comments when they already crossed your limit. Words like “Fuck you if you don't like it” or “You're barely able to use colors and you're going to tell me what I have to do?” escaped you in very rare cases.

You entered the less traveled part of the temple, hoping not to encounter those looks that made you uncomfortable. The song of nature resonated in your ears harmoniously, while the sound of the materials inside your bag resonated from time to time.

In the midst of your ramblings, you remembered your lost sculptures, and your forgotten materials; You were not a forgetful pardon, and it seemed strange to you not to find your favorite materials —That were metal, so they were worth a lot of money —, and even though you asked and asked, you couldn't find it anymore, so it depressed you a lot to think that you had lost something that had cost yout parents so much effort, and the mere memory of it caused you to feel that pang in your heart.

Even if your parents said it was nothing that couldn't be fixed, it hurt to know that you had lost one of the most expensive things your parents had cost you to get you.

But it was curious to think what a surprise you would get.

However, you get to hear some noises; without being the whining of baby birds waiting for food or rodents walking in search of food, but rather it resembled the voice of two people talking. You recognized both of their voices, but you thought it wasn't too important to stay there, in fact, you were already planning to go somewhere else when you heard it.

—So that girl, (Name), right?

—Yes, I didn't think you realized that issue.

The second boy's shy voice reminded you of that young man you rarely spoke to, which took you by surprise. Hwei wasn't the type of person to talk bad about someone behind their back, or at least that was the idea you had based on your interactions.

—You don't have to worry, after all it's normal for you to feel attracted to someone —Jhin mentioned, almost in a mocking manner—. So why don't you tell me about her?

You had already noticed the intention behind that interaction, however, after what happened, you thought that maybe you could calm your heart with some sweet words that you weren't meant to hear at that moment.

—Well, she is… incredible —He begins, you hear how the young man sits on a log due to the sound of the hollow wood —, she is beautiful, kind, tender… and her way of expressing her art is so… unique.

You gently leaned your back against the wood, trying not to make any sound. Something in your chest moved abruptly, as if your heart was fluttering like a butterfly in glass.

—I adore her sculptures, I feel that they are the most beautiful thing I have seen —He continues talking, slowly his emotion rose more and more —. I looked sometimes at her work in class or in the room away from her, and they are… beautiful.

—So much so that you had the need to steal them, right?

It was a single sentence, one which echoed in your head for several seconds.

—What are you talking about? —Hwei asks, arranging his hair a little, trying to place several strands behind his ear —. I would never do that.

You didn't hear how Hwei's tone of voice changed, becoming staccato, as his hands clung to his backpack, which he had in his lap.

At this, the other student laughed, almost like a subtle laugh, while his eyes wandered to where your shadow was looming. A mischievous smile forms on his face.

—So, I imagine that the sculptures that are in your room were made by you, right? —He questions, looking subtly into Hwei's eyes—. Or you bought them from her.

Your thoughts slowly formed a thread of the events that had happened. A lump formed in your throat, almost painfully so.

—Or her favorite utensils, she asked me if I had seen them last week, since she had left them near you the last time she saw them —He continued, almost introspectively—, but when I asked you, you only mentioned that you didn't see them that day either.

You shook your head, from the depths of your soul you prayed that it wasn't true, that you didn't have the school prodigy after you in such an extreme way.

—Well, I admit that I have some of her sculptures in my room, but they are the ones that she forgot in class or anywhere! —The pale boy snapped—. And I don't know what you think I did with her utensils, I don't know how to sculpt.

Jhin laughs again, barely audibly now, as if he knew that now he would have to act more vividly.

—And why were they in the box in your room? —Jhin asks him —, it even had remains of dry ceramics. Could it be that they were already used?

Hwei gritted his teeth, while his gaze met Jhin's again.

—That side of you… It's so peculiar. —He smiles —, I thought no one would see it, but you risk being seen in exchange for getting some things from (Name).

Hwei knew that darkness within his soul had awakened since the first day he saw you. And that darkness spread throughout his soul, mind and body, to the point that it seemed to consume all of his heart and mind.

—Your paintings were always warm colors —Jhin changed the subject, the smile disappearing from his face —, they were never about anything specific, but since you met that girl, something changed —He bowed gently in front of Hwei —. If it was about her, you focused on her in a way that made her seem pure, you used colors that highlighted her body or her emotion on her face. But she never looked at anyone —He subtly changed his focus —, she looked at the painter, or she didn't look at anyone, tell me, do you just want her to not look at anyone but you? Do you want her to the point that you don't want her to look at anyone but you?

He remained silent, in such a way that you could feel the weight of the words lingering in the air, causing an almost inexhaustible tension there. It was such that you could no longer hear the song of nature that you longed for so much.

—I won't criticize you, Hwei, you know that I understand better than anyone the dark feeling inside you —Jhin tried to sound empathetic —. And, if you want, I can help you make (Name) yours. I can make her fall in love with you and make that she can never leave you.

The obsessed young man understood how wrong it was to have those thoughts terrifying his mind, but he couldn't stop it, it was a feeling that had already taken root in his heart, and he couldn't tear it out no matter how much he wanted to.

—I can't… —Hwei whispered, his voice breaking —…, I don't want to harm her; She is so nice to me, I don't want to put her through all my feelings.

You heard him sob.

—You're not going to hurt her —Jhin comforts him, a hand running over his cheek —. I know you love her very much, and you notice how others hurt her. But, tell me, don't you think about those people really hurt her? —He subtly wipes away the tear that slipped down her face—. You should take care of those people, you know? So she could express her art as she loves it. Maybe she could even make thousands of statues without anyone to pressure her, and you could “borrow” them for yourself.

You had heard enough, you couldn't stay there for another minute.

However, before you could move, Jhin leaned close to Hwei's ear, his lips close to her loose strands of hair.

—Or you could take it right now, you know? This opportunity is perfect. —Jhin's mischievous smile spreads across his face.

Hwei opened his eyes to her peak, at the same time he heard a rope move abruptly.

And you felt your foot being pulled up, forcing you to hit your face against the ground, causing you to moan in pain.

—Shit. —You whispered, feeling your head spin, a small wound on your head began to make small drops of blood come out.

—That is…? —Hwei whispers, his heart sinking in his chest —(Name)..?

Ｏ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)ＯＯ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Today I came wanting to write. I loved how this one-shot turned out, and I hope those who read it do too haha.

I hope to receive more orders if any of you wish, until then, I will be dedicated to my hobbies and my studies.

[bittermarching]

(I've said this before but,) It's annoying to me how so many people feel compelled to spread disinformation and present every situation as completely black and white, regardless of the facts, to manipulate other people into agreeing with them. This happens all the fucking time, especially online.

A recent example: M. Williams, the man who was recently executed in Missouri (not putting his full name bc I don't want a bunch of illiterate keyboard "prison abolitionists" telling me to kms). Lemme first preface this by saying I Do Not think he should've been executed. Just to be clear.

There are a million zillion posts on this site claiming that there was "overwhelming forensic evidence definitively proving his innocence" and that the "only evidence" linking him to the crime was the testimony of two cellmates who were rewarded for their testimonies. Both of these things are false.

What linked him to the crime was a) the victim's stolen items were found in his possession (obviously he could have just been a fence, but the items found were a ruler and a calculator, which have no value so why would a fence have that?); b) the testimony of his girlfriend who said that he confessed and had scratches on his neck and blood on his shirt and the victim's laptop in his car; c) the victim's stolen laptop was recovered from a man who said Williams sold it to him; d) the alleged jailhouse confession his former cellmate claimed he made. Neither Williams' girlfriend or the man who bought the laptop received any reward for testifying, as far as I could find. The gf was awaiting trial on an unrelated crime, but it doesn't seem like she got a plea deal or anything for testifying. The cellmate did receive a reward, so that imo makes his testimony somewhat less persuasive. There was also the fact that he had a history of armed robbery.

However! And this is why his death sentence should have been overturned (regardless of whether you support the existence of the death penalty at all), there were several serious issues with how the crime was investigated, the trial, and post-trial handling of the case.

First, regarding the forensic evidence, the DNA of an initially-unidentified man was found on the knife. It turns out, that DNA belonged to one of the prosecutors who contaminated the evidence by repeatedly handling it without gloves. (This is where people seem confused, claiming that the DNA belongs to the real culprit, but that is false). The fact that the evidence was mishandled alone should have been enough imo to overturn his sentence bc the jury did not have this info when they convicted him.

Second, the prosecuting attorney handling voir dire (jury selection) had a Very Clear racial bias, as he eliminated all but one Black juror, and the reason he gave for eliminating one of them was that he "looked too much like" Williams. Which, I mean. Come on, that's just insanely clear anti-Black racism.

Third, the bizarre, intentional mishandling of this case post-trial. First, the former governor stays the execution and forms a panel of judges to review the case. But then, the new governor suddenly dissolves the panel before they finish their investigation and just decides to lift the stay on the execution. A lawsuit was pending to have another trial into Williams' innocence, given all the new evidence about the mishandling of the trial, but the state supreme court found that they didn't have the authority to withdraw the execution order. Williams accepted a plea deal devised by prosecutors that would have his conviction commuted to life without parole. The state sup. ct. blocked the plea deal. The governor denied his plea for clemency. Basically, the people in positions of final authority seemed absolutely determined to go through with this execution no matter what.

I might've missed some details here, I read a bunch of articles and tried to piece things together, but the length of this post was already getting away from me.

But the point is, I hate how ppl feel the need to oversimplify complex issues and events in order to convince others of the point they're trying to make. It is true that there were actual, material pieces of evidence linking Williams to the crime and that he did have a history of armed robbery. But it's equally true that the investigation and trial were biased and mishandled and that the governor and state supreme court seemed hellbent on having this man executed. Honestly, I don't think he was innocent -- it's undeniable that he was at least involved in the crime in some fashion. HOWEVER, if there is any doubt at all about a person's guilt, the death penalty should be off the table. And there was absolutely doubt. The evidence did not conclusively 100% show that no one else could have committed the murder and the investigation, trial, and post-trial were all very messy to say the least. And that should be enough to make people outraged at his execution! You should be able to accurately present the facts and let people decide whether they agree with you. And yet every post I've seen on this case falsely claims that there was definitive evidence proving that he was completely innocent, portraying him as just some random man the state decided to target despite having no connection to the case.

Even when I agree with the point being made, the disinformation people spread to manipulate others into agreeing with them really pisses me off. It's like we're all mini-politicians nowadays willing to say anything to accomplish our own agendas and I can't trust anything without verifying it with 15 separate independent sources. (I mean I've always done that bc I'm a full time skeptic, but still). This case is just one example, but it's constant and it drives me insane.

And, for the record, I'm not some death penalty fanatic who just loves throwing people in prison for no reason. I have done volunteer work for the Innocence Project, including their death penalty divison which aims to get inmates off of death row. Which is more than most of y'all can say, so.

[offender42085]

Post 1291

Convicted, overturned and Convicted again....

Gage Basil Ashley, born 1997, New York inmate 22B0067, incarceration intake January 2022 at age 24, scheduled for release November 2044

Murder, Attempted Robbery, Criminal Possession of a Weapon

In April 2024, after five years, a suspect has been sentenced for the 2019 murder of 36-year-old Joshua Poole.

Judge Hon. Thomas Leone sentenced 26-year-old Gage Ashley to 25 years to life for his conviction of Murder in the Second Degree.

In March 2024, Ashley was convicted and found guilty of killing Poole at 8 Delevan Street in the City of Auburn on November 15, 2019.

In November 2020, Cayuga County District Attorney Jon Budelmann said 38-year-old Christian Rivera planned a robbery in November of 2019 that resulted in the murder of Poole. According to Budelmann, Rivera provided Ashley — along with 22-year-old Lucciano Spagnola and 24-year-old Tyree Anglin — with weapons, ammunition and money to purchase gloves and masks. 

Rivera also allegedly provided them with marijuana, cocaine, synthetic drugs and alcohol before sending them to commit the robbery, while he stayed at home.

Police said Ashley was armed with a handgun during the alleged robbery and Spagnola had a shotgun and Anglin was with them as well. 

Investigators said the three bought ski masks from Walmart a few days before and tried to burn their clothes and hide their evidence from police in a crawl space. Police also found a vehicle –that they believed was the getaway car — in the Seneca River in Cato shortly after that was connected to the crime. 

On Thursday, March 14, 2024, the jury began their deliberation around 1:15 p.m. and reached a verdict on Ashley by 1:45 p.m. on Friday. They not only found Ashley guilty of murder but of Attempted Robbery in the First Degree and Criminal Possession of a Weapon in the Second Degree.

On the day of Ashley’s sentencing, the court also imposed sentences of 15 years in prison and five years of post-release supervision for each of Ashley’s convictions of Attempted Robbery in the First Degree and Criminal Possession of a Weapon in the Second Degree. 

Each sentence represents the maximum sentence allowable by law. The Court was legally required to run the sentences concurrently because Ashley committed the crimes at the same time.

4u

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Caught In Your Web (1/15)

Summary: Since losing his father to a mugging, David Jacobs has spent the entire summer before his senior year of high school living up to Mayer’s final words to him: With great power comes great responsibility. The start of the school year brings new challenges. Harder classes, college applications, finding out why there’s a rise in crime caused by mutants—typical high school stuff. David finds out wither he can balance his school work, a job, a social life, and a secret identity, or whether he’ll be crushed like a bug beneath the pressure. Spider-Man!Davey AU A/N: It's here! Come check out my fic for the @newsiesminibang24! Huge shoutout to the amazingly talented @hellosammy19 for the absolutely GORGEOUS art she created for this story. I could not have asked for a better partner <3 Be sure to check out all their art! Enjoy! :)

Spider-Menace Strikes Again!

On August 15th, twelve policemen answered the call to an armed robbery on the corner of 5th and Broadway. When they arrived on the scene, three suspected robbers were found caught in what appeared to be a giant spider web. Their weapons were wrapped in the same substance and rendered useless.

It goes without saying that the presumed obstructor of justice (who resolutely continues to hinder good police work) is none other than the Spider-Man.

Who is this so-called Spider-Man? How does he always know exactly where to find criminals? Why is there a sudden uptick in un-policed supers plaguing our boroughs? These are the questions we, as a city, should be asking ourselves. According to the letter of the law, vigilantism is illegal. Spider-Man does not answer to New York’s finest, and he does not answer to the public. He answers only to himself. He is judge and jury for every alleged crime he intervenes in. 

This masked menace must be kept accountable for his actions. He leaves a wake of destruction in his path on his search for vengeance, leaving the rest of New York to clean it up in the form of taxpayers’ hard-earned dollars. Sanitation is still cleaning up the mess he left in Central Park last week.

If our community allows him to go unchecked for so long, it’s only a matter of time before his reckless quest for terrorism gets an innocent person ki—

The hiss from the thin sheets of paper being snatched from his hands cause Davey to jolt in surprise. Swapping the surprise on his face for a disgruntled frown, he swats his arm at the air beside his ear an attempt to reclaim his stolen newspaper. “Hey, I was reading that!”

He watches helplessly as his copy of The World is crumpled up into a sphere and casually dumped into the nearest trash can. He rounds on the culprit, brow furrowed and prepared to give them a piece of his mind until he’s greeted with an all too familiar frown. 

Jack Kelly stands in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and glaring expectantly at Davey.

Oh, shit. 

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