#gun charges

[somebeltwaytrash]

Two weeks ago, we reported that Ezra Miller and Ana Rosa, pictured above, had three -- no, two, children together.

Today, Miller and Ana Rosa (real name Hannah White) were in court to finalize Miller's custody of the two children he had with White.

While there, the matter of the middle child, also named Hannah, was resolved. It seems that Hannah White the elder received a substantial payment from Miller's adoptive mother, Marta Miller, to lie to police about "abusive and chaotic conditions" at Marta Miller's Vermont farmhouse, falsely reported to be the place where Ezra was living.

As we have previously reported, the cult-like altar to Ezra Miller had been assembled by Marta Miller.

Furthermore, Marta Miller paid the elder Hannah White an even larger sum of money to lie to Ezra about the parentage of Hannah White the younger, her mother's middle child.

Once again Ezra Miller is not the father of the younger Hannah White. Nor was he present for the incident in which Hannah White the younger placed a bullet from an "altar", erected by Marta Miller, into her mouth. The guns that were reportedly strewn around the house were not Ezra Miller's, and were registered to Marta Miller.

Accordingly, the elder Hannah White has now been arrested and charged with fraud, grand larceny, child neglect, and child abuse.

Marta Miller remains free on bond.

This is all very sensational, and you're probably wondering why it is of any interest to the Central Intelligence Agency.

We are only at liberty to say that the investigation is ongoing.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Of the 19 hijackers who carried out the Sept 11 attacks:

15 were from Saudi Arabia (a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

2 were from the United Arab Emirates (also a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

1 was from Egypt, 1 from Lebanon.

None of the hijackers were from Iraq.

None of the Sept 11 hijackers were Iraqi.

None of the 9/11 hijackers were from Iraq.

[addamii]

I don’t draw Gideon nearly enough so here’s reverend daughter au Gideon :)

[flash-fresh]

US President Joe Biden's son Hunter indicted on gun charges

Hunter Biden was charged with two counts of making false statements, for claiming on forms that he was not using drugs illegally at the time he bought a revolver.

WASHINGTON: US President Joe Biden’s son Hunter was indicted Thursday for illegally buying a gun five years ago at a time when he admits he was using drugs heavily.

Hunter Biden was charged with two counts of making false statements, for claiming on forms that he was not using drugs illegally at the time he bought a Colt revolver in Delaware.

A third charge said that, based on the false statements, he illegally possessed the gun — a charge that can bring up to 10 years in prison.

The charges were filed by Justice Department Special Counsel David Weiss, who has been investigating Biden since 2018.

It came two months after a plea deal between Biden and Weiss, covering the gun charge as well as alleged tax violations, went sour over differences of whether the president’s son could face unspecified additional charges.

In the July deal, Biden agreed to plea guilty to two minor tax charges.

In exchange he was offered probation, as he had already paid what he owed the government along with penalties.

In the same deal, Weiss agreed to suspend the felony gun charge if Biden completed “pretrial diversion,” which often involves counseling or rehabilitation.

But in a dramatic July 26 hearing, the deal collapsed over the issue of whether Biden would have been immune from any other charges also investigated by Weiss, including possible crimes related to his business dealings in Ukraine, China and elsewhere.

The judge mentioned the possibility that Biden could be charged as having acted as a lobbyist for foreign governments without registering with the Justice Department.

Three weeks later, after the deal collapsed, Weiss dropped the tax charges and indicated in a court filing that new charges would be brought in other states.

And he told the Deleware court that an indictment on the gun charge would come by the end of September.

The legal troubles of Biden, 53, a Yale-trained lawyer and lobbyist, have cast a shadow over his father’s reelection campaign.

Without offering any evidence, Republicans have accused Biden’s Justice Department of protecting his son and have accused Weiss, a Republican appointee, of going easy on Hunter.

[nextcinemastudios]

G HERBO BUSTED FOR GUN POSSESSION IN CHICAGO

G Herbo has a new heaping of legal trouble after Chicago cops arrested him Sunday evening in connection with a gun bust. Law enforcement sources tell us Herbo was busted around 5:45 PM near North Wabash Avenue and East Ontario Street, where cops say they found a gun. Herbo’s Chi town fans will recognize those streets as he frequently mentions them in his songs. According to cops, Herbo was…

[sgt-tombstone]

Soap knows how to load and fire a flintlock but won’t tell anyone how or why

it’s his favorite party trick and he loves to gloat that he knows how to operate one weapon that Ghost doesn’t (he could probably figure it out but doesn’t want to risk sacrificing his fingers or face in a firearm explosion to test that theory)

[pourablecat]

SPACE COVEN SPACE COVEN

[spikedru]

still two of the playlists im most proud of

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[number1jaymerrickhater]

The real tragedy about Jays death is that it didn’t need to happen. Like yeah yeah he was in too deep yeah yeah The Operator microwaving his brain and all that, but he had a million and one chances to back down. For fucks sake in Entry 80 he was standing by the door a few moments before Alex shoots him. He could have left and he probably would have lived, but he didn’t. Jay rejects every single opportunity he has to leave and it ends up killing him. Because at any point in the series he could have put the camera down and walked away. He almost did at the end of season 1. Alex was only able to find him because he kept doxing himself, if he just put the camera, stopped posting and just moved out of the state he probs would have made it out.

But he didn’t. He needed answers. He needed to know and that’s what killed him.

[rambunctioustoons]

concept stuff!!

[anonymocha]

Bluepoch gave us the gift of barely-subtext tragic sapphic-centric media do NOT throw that away.

Context regarding PJSK and Undertale under cut.

Project Sekai cast is dominated by female characters but mlm is more popular, meanwhile Undertale has canon wlw rep and oh my god they’re at the bottom. I have nothing against these fandoms or media (I’m literally currently/was in them) but yeah. I just HOPE r99 doesn’t end up in a similar state.

[chirpsythismorning]

[phonydiaries]

See How Deep the Bullet Lies - Chainshipping - I, II, III

continuation of my Jigsaw apprentice Adam AU; can be read as a standalone but makes the most sense in context, links up top!

Summary/Preview: “You know what’s funny?” Adam asked, his brows furrowed in mock-puzzlement. Gordon had a feeling he didn’t want to know. Adam dragged his finger across several torn-out articles, cross-referencing. “Not a single one of these articles mention the fact that I have you to thank for this weird little hole in my chest.”

The office was meticulously clean, organized. Little warm lights were placed with the intention of creating a relaxed and peaceful environment. Everything here was designed to encourage healing, which had the ironic side-effect of coming off as aggressively clinical. Lawrence should’ve felt right at home. Instead, he staved off a migraine, head in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to explain himself. 

Be open. Be emotionally Available. Ali chided him in the back of his mind. She was right of course, but he was too stubborn to listen. Just one of the reasons she’d spent more and more time visiting her family out of state since the Jigsaw incident. 

“It’s not that I see him, per se.” Lawrence said hesitantly. Although, sometimes he did, out of the corner of his eye. “It’s just that sometimes when I come home, or I’m out for a walk.”

“Oh good, you’ve been walking.” The therapist cut in, scratching down a note in the margin of her clipboard. At least Lawrence’s PT would be happy about that. 

“But go on.” She urged him. By that time he already felt silly for saying it out loud. His recollection lost steam. 

“It just sort of feels like he’s there. Like if I turned around I’d see him.” Lawrence let out a long sigh. “I’m losing it aren’t I?” He muttered, the sound of his voice slightly muffled through his hands. His therapist, a sweet thirty-something year old woman, hummed thoughtfully. She was nice enough, even if Lawrence hadn’t picked her himself. He’d tried to rush headfirst back into his work almost as soon as the hospital cleared him for outpatient care. The hospital administrator, rightfully wary, let him back only on the strict condition that he see one of their resident psychotherapists once a week. 

“I don’t think you’re losing it, Larry.” She said, distractedly making another note. “What you’re describing sounds like bereavement hallucinations.” Lawrence looked up at her quizzically. 

“Is that common?” He asked. The therapist put on a practiced sympathetic expression and nodded. 

“More than you’d think, though it’s most common in people who have lost a spouse.” She’d tacked that on so casually. 

“What?”

Realizing her mistake, a look of painfully earnest regret flashed across the poor woman’s face. She hurried to explain,

“But, I mean, given the extreme circumstances you met under, it makes perfect sense that-” 

Lawrence didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Based on what he’d told the authorities, the FBI had Adam presumed legally dead only weeks after the Jigsaw incident came to light. There was enough of a pattern established with the previous traps that they felt confident declaring him another victim that didn’t make it. 

Lawrence didn’t want to get into all the times he’d not seen, but felt Adam still looking over his shoulder or staring at him from across the street. The hallucinations weren’t quite visual, but he’d been plagued with the sense that the young man was always with him, just a few feet away, and always just out of reach. 

-

Lawrence knew before walking through the door that Ali (and by extension, Diana) wouldn’t be waiting for him inside. He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet on whether things were better or worse on days she spent away. He’d tried, really tried to be a better husband, a better father. He just couldn’t seem to give her what she needed and he didn’t blame her for getting air. Maybe space was what they needed- still, it hurt. 

He flipped the lightswitch in the foyer and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted. Exhaustion showed on his face and never seemed to leave him these days. Semi-dazed he passed the kitchen, not as obsessively clean as he used to keep it, and let himself linger on the family photos on the fridge. How depressingly prophetic that he was always the one holding the camera, just a few feet away and well out of the picture. 

“Oh, good. You’re home.”

Lawrence froze, immediately plunged back into reality. He’d never thought about how terrifying it would be to hear the sardonic whip-sharp voice of the man he’d shot casually greeting him in his kitchen. He felt himself slowly turning around to face him, against his will. Christ, nothing could’ve prepared him for looking back into those unerring eyes; relearning the uncanny feeling that there was nothing they didn’t see. Great waves of emotion crashed over Lawrence in rapid succession. Grief, shock, relief, sadness, fear. 

Adam couldn’t have looked more aloof. The young man sat at the kitchen table, his chair teetering on its back legs, a half eaten bowl of cheerios in front of him. Methodically, he sized up Lawrence, his gaze diligently working its way from head to prosthetic foot. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Oh, ha ha. 

“Sorry.” Adam said, putting his hands up apologetically. “I know it’s rude to show up unannounced, but since we’re such good old friends I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Each word that left his mouth was coated in sugary sarcasm. Lawrence couldn’t even fathom where to start with him. He had a thousand questions to ask and a slew of accusations and apologies to rattle off. They all died behind his lips. All he could do was stare. Adam cleared his throat. 

“You’re wondering how I got in.” That hadn’t even cleared the top 15 questions. 

“How did you get out?” Lawrence hated the way that came out of his mouth. Demanding. Adam’s face darkened. 

“You tell me. You left to get help.” His voice was laced with bitterness. Lawrence grit his teeth and sucked in a measured breath. 

“Cut the bullshit.” He snapped. Adam, like the juvenile he was, rolled his eyes. 

“Does it matter? I’m here.” He said, throwing his hands up. He couldn’t resist tacking on an accusatory glare. “Despite your best efforts.”

He was exactly as hotheaded and infuriating as Lawrence remembered. Still, he couldn’t stop the building guilt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t know how long Adam had stayed in that awful room with two decaying corpses, waiting for help that would never arrive. However Adam made it out, however he’d gotten here, he was looking for an explanation. Lawrence owed him that much. He tried to still the shaking in his voice. 

“Look even before I-” Lawrence began, then stopped himself abruptly. He was already making excuses. He tried to walk it back. “I wasn’t in my right mind.” He said plainly, shaking his head. “All I could see once I’d… done it was Ali and Diana and then with the blood loss…” He trailed off. The fuzziness was genuine. The memories always went blurry here. As much as he’d tried to wring any detail from them, he always came up blank. Even after months of searching and questioning, the FBI was no closer to discovering the precise location of Lawrence and Adam’s trap. 

“Most days I can barely remember how I made it out. Things start melting together.” Lawrence finished quietly. It wasn’t quite an apology, or even an admission of guilt. Adam clearly thought as much, offering Lawrence an unimpressed slow blink. He sighed loudly, as if deeply disappointed, and pulled a crossbody bag out from under the kitchen table. 

“Well, that would explain all the interviews.” He said, rummaging around in the bag. Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. 

“What?”

Adam pulled out a thick stack of newspaper clippings and sifted through them briefly. 

“Ah, there we go.” He said brightly, slapping a handful of scraps onto the table with a sharp smack. He generously allowed Lawrence a moment to take in the breadth of what he was looking at. Spread out in front of him was every mention of the bathroom trap that had ever made the news, every headline, every picture of Lawrence, every statement he’d ever given to the press. How typical of Adam to be such a diligent archivist. He’d never stopped watching Gordon after all this time. Suddenly Lawrence felt like a fool, questioning all his recent supposed hallucinations. 

“You know what’s funny?” Adam asked, his brows furrowed in mock-puzzlement. Gordon had a feeling he didn’t want to know. Adam dragged his finger across several torn-out articles, cross-referencing. “Not a single one of these articles mention the fact that I have you to thank for this weird little hole in my chest.” He said casually, gesturing to his right shoulder. 

“I thought the editors must’ve made a mistake, y’know because you’re such a stand-up guy. You wouldn’t lie to them.” He turned an expectant gaze on Lawrence and smirked when the doctor remained silent. It would’ve been kinder to stab him in the chest. Like those words hadn’t haunted him every night for months. 

“But then I checked the police reports.” Adam said, reaching for a paper hidden beneath all those surrounding it. He skimmed it thoughtfully before reading aloud. “And wouldn’t you know it; Dr. Gordon reports witnessing Shepherd “Zepp” Hindle, a former orderly at his place of work, fire a single round into Mr. Faulkner-Stanheight’s chest. Gordon says Faulkner-Stanheight was left unmoving on the ground showing no signs of life.” As Adam finished, he held up the little clipping and whistled in disbelief. 

Blackmail? Was that Adam’s game here? Lawrence stepped up to Adam, making a cheap grab for the police report. Whether he was moved by guilt or rage he couldn’t say. As if expecting it, Adam closed his hand around Lawrence’s arm and shoved him away. Lawrence sucked in a sharp breath as the back of his head collided with the wall. Adam planted his hand square in the middle of Lawrence’s chest, warning him to stay put. 

“What do you want from me? Money?” Lawrence hissed, holding his hands up. Now it was Adam’s turn to look surprised, his face twisting with genuine bafflement. He cocked his head to the side, looking up at Lawrence. 

“You think I want your money?” He asked, incredulous. 

“What the fuck else?” Lawrence snapped. He couldn’t parse the look in Adam’s eyes, severe and hungry and demanding. Adam’s free hand disappeared behind his back. When it returned Lawrence felt a steel muzzle press against the front of his shirt. His face went slack. Adam didn’t look away once, his searing gaze boring two holes into Gordon’s skull. 

“I want you to know what it felt like,” He breathed, “To be left for dead.” 

This isn’t happening. All the mess that would inevitably be left in Lawrence’s wake ran through his mind. His patients, his staff, Alison, Diana- she couldn’t grow up without her father, even if things were rocky with Alison he couldn’t leave her a widow. He felt his chest tighten, felt his head begin to swim. Is this really what it was like? Adam was younger. He had so much life ahead of him. Not for the first time, Lawrence wondered how much he would’ve robbed Adam of if the shot had really been fatal, how many years of love and life lost? Maybe he deserved it, but his family couldn’t suffer for his sins. 

“Adam-” He murmured. 

“Shut up.” The cylinder trembled against his chest. Adam’s hand was shaking. Lawrence wondered if the injury had left him with a tremor. 

“Please. My family, they can’t- my daughter-” He couldn’t collect himself enough to form full sentences. How quickly he was reduced to begging. Adam shook his head gravely. His brows furrowed and a look of earnest regret seemed to float in his eyes. It just wasn’t enough to stop what he’d already put in motion. In a moment of terrible deja vu Gordon placed his hand over Adam’s bad shoulder. 

It was the first time Adam looked shocked, closing his eyes following what Lawrence assumed was a sharp pain. The wound wasn’t fresh, but the nerve damage from an infected gunshot could take a lifetime to heal. He suppressed a gasp and Lawrence wondered if for a moment he saw it too; the cool fluorescent lights and the filthy tile floor. Adam blinked something away. He closed in, leaning into the pain, challenging. Only the fabric of his shirt kept Lawrence’s hand from touching the wound he’d inflicted himself. He heard the revolver click and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“You should’ve finished the fucking job, Doc.” Adam’s voice barely broke a whisper, his breath hot and heavy. Blindly, Lawrence felt the weight of Adam’s forehead against his, hair brushing against his face. They’d been this close before. Only once. He felt Adam take a breath. Hold it. Let out a long sigh. 

“Fuck.” Adam muttered under his breath. A second click. Lawrence could hear the smile in his voice and it made his fucking blood run cold. 

“I’m just not like you, Larry.” And he almost sounded relieved. Lawrence felt him back away as cold sweat seeped in to take his place. He opened his eyes. 

Adam was already packing up his table scraps, haphazardly showing papers back into his bag. The revolver was tucked away back into the waist of his jeans. Lawrence felt drunk, his head spinning with the aftermath of the hurricane that had just ripped through his kitchen. Calling anyone was thoroughly off the table- who was going to believe him? Adam rummaged around in his pocket for a moment and threw Lawrence his house keys. They hit him in the chest and clattered to the floor. Well. There was that mystery solved. He slung the crossbody bag over his shoulder and shot Lawrence an utterly incomprehensible look. Fondness attempted to bury itself in layers of resentment. He had a feeling this wasn’t the last they’d see of each other. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, Larry.” He warned, lingering like a specter in the doorway. “I’m good at hiding.”

[adizzyninja]

Currently, I’d say my biggest criticism of the Fallout show (that I hope theyll address in season 2) is the lack of focus on actual wastelanders.

You only really see things from the perspective of sheltered youngsters or the Uber-cynic ghoul. All the actual wastelanders they encounter are basically crazed killers or canon fodder.

I get that’s the point, at least for now: to show that the wasteland is harsh and our cast aren’t quite equipped to handle it. But if they want to tackle these big themes, if they want to actually explain why this world is worth saving from the vault tec baddies, or why the ghoul cowboy should value human life, I think they need to do a little more work next season on the people actually living in this world.

Show a settlement that’s gotten together. Or a family that’s nice to the cast. Or just have someone from the wastes who just waves to them and shoots the breeze. The current presentation of wastelanders makes them seem so cartoonish and inhuman, when there can be so much more nuance to how people behave in that kind of world. I just really hope they try to actually dig into that kind of humanity to wasteland life in season 2

[littlefankingdom]

Everytime something happens in France in a comic, I realize how little researches comics writers do. And like, if they are this bad with my western country, how bad it is with third-world countries they talk about???

In Nightwing (2016), Raptor is from a circus that was near Paris during Mary Grayson's childhood, so more than 40 years ago at least.

In this flashback, they accuse the mayor of Paris of having given leprosy to the romani and of keeping away the meds they need. Already, with our healthcare's system, it's hardly possible, as they would be able to go to a hospital to get the help they need. Do they think "public healthcare" means the state has a direct control on medication, because that's not the case at all. The French gov control the money put into medication, how much is bought, but a mayor has no power over this. I just don't understand how something like this could happen. You can totally write a racist medical scandal in France, but makes it make sense with our system.

But also, Paris didn't have a mayor until 1977, so if it's before 1977, impossible. And, Paris' mayor from 1977 to 1995 is JACQUES CHIRAC, who was the PRESIDENT after. They wrote a story implying that a French President kept medications away from sick people, was discovered and was still elected President. And, yes, the French government is far from good and they have deeply harmed the romani, but like, maybe don't write shit like that. (Also, Chirac was really against the war of Iraq, and stood up against the US, which France is still paying the price for to this day. So I don't really like an USAmerican to criticize Chirac. Like, we can do it, others can do it, but not USAmericans, y'all have done enough) I'm pretty sure that wasn't the goal of the writers. No, what happen is that they didn't do researches about Paris' mayor and so, wrote that shit.

This may be inspired by the contaminated blood's scandal in the 80s-90s, which was worst in France, but no mayor was found guilty, it was doctors who knowingly contaminated patients with a deadly illness. And the French government was held accountable, even if they had no hand in it, as a matter of principle.

I understand it's a fiction, and they didn't literally wrote "Chirac did this", but it's kind of clumsy. (Especially because of everything I wrote earlier about Chirac's politics and how the US is still punishing France for being against killing civilians and destroying Iraq. France was doing the right thing, and the US worked so France would go back in line and treat Arabs like shit. Do not think western countries are free from the US' imperialism)

And in no way I'm saying that you cannot write France being awful, I know my gov's crimes (rn, they have deported homeless out of Paris for the Olympics, the President is refusing to acknowledge the left won the elections and to take a leftist prime minister so we have no prime minister since mid July and fuck democracy I guess, they support Israel's crimes against humanity, and are behaving like the colonizers that they are in New-Caledonia, sending the armies against the Kanaks that have not enough power on their own land), I'm just saying it should at least be believable enough to work. (Easiest way: make the cops racist. Boom. Also, French cops talk like vilains, it's insane.) And also, not about someone touchy like clumsily painting badly a president that was punished by the US for doing the right thing.