#luigi mangione they can never make us hate you

[ghalghai]

the composition in this photo is insaneee its so funny because they clearly wanted to humiliate him but instead they made him look like a modern day jesus christ being led to calvary and the public cant get enough of him

[viasdiary]

☆ old times' sake (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ part 2 of i'm yours (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 3.4k

☆ warnings: infidelity, slight coercion, smut, unprotected sex, not proofread

☆ you go to dinner at a friend's house with your new boyfriend. luigi's there and he ends up pulling you back in.

it’s been a while since you and luigi broke up. you were never one to hold on to the past, so when you realized he wasn’t what you needed, letting go was easier than expected. still, you can’t deny that his attempts to reach out over the months left a lingering trace in your mind. you’ve moved on, but now, there’s this dinner—one you can’t avoid. your mutual friend invited both of you, and despite your reluctance, you agreed to go.

you tell yourself it’ll be fine. you’re bringing your new boyfriend, after all, someone who you’re still figuring out, but you can’t imagine being without him in this moment.

on the car ride there, the tension weighs on you. you glance at your new boyfriend, and decide to warn him.

"look," you start, your voice steady but carrying a hint of caution,

"luigi can be... difficult. he doesn’t take well to seeing me with someone else. it’s like he thinks we're inveitably gonna end up back together."

your boyfriend glances over at you, half-smiling, unfazed.

"i’ve dealt with jealous exes before," he shrugs, clearly unconcerned.

"i’ll be fine."

you try to stifle a nervous laugh. you’re not so sure. luigi has a way of making you feel terribly guilty, even now, and you hate that this dinner is forcing you to confront all of that again.

you pull into the driveway and kill the engine, the weight of the evening settling over you. the house is quiet for a moment, but then the muffled sound of laughter and chatter drifts out the front door as your friend opens it to greet you. your boyfriend reaches over and brushes a hand against your shoulder, his fingers lingering a moment longer than usual.

"you look really pretty tonight, baby." he says, his smile warm. the compliment helps ease the nerves in your chest. you're wearing a low-cut black dress that hugs your figure just right, and you know he’s enjoying the way it clings to your body.

the door opens wider, and you step inside. the conversation flows easily as you exchange pleasantries with your friend. you’re distracted, though—your eyes drifting across the room, already searching for him. it doesn’t take long. luigi stands by the window, leaning against the wall, exuding his usual relaxed confidence. luigi’s tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a burgundy sweater with a white collared shirt underneath and khaki slacks. he looks so handsome, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. his thick eyebrows and dark curly hair frame his face perfectly, and the two small moles on his cheeks—ones you used to think were endearing—still make him look beautiful.

he’s talking to a girl, and your stomach drops. she’s ridiculously young—no older than 20, probably. you can tell by the way she’s smiling at him, hanging onto every word, that he’s enjoying the attention. he's only 26, but the age gap between them is impossible to ignore. you look away, trying to push down the unease.

dinner comes and goes quickly. the conversation is light, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in the air, as if everyone is walking on eggshells. you catch luigi’s gaze once or twice, but you don’t engage. the meal is pleasant enough, but it feels like the calm before the storm.

after dinner, your boyfriend excuses himself to the bathroom. you’re left with your thoughts, trying to shake the growing uneasy feeling.

that’s when luigi appears by your side, his presence almost too familiar. he stands just a little too close, and you take a step back, trying to maintain the space you’ve worked so hard to carve out. he gives you a half-smile, the one that used to melt you, but now just feels like a well-practiced mask.

“you look good,” he says, and you hear a sincerity in his voice you almost don’t want to believe.

you’re about to say something, but before you can, he’s already guiding you toward the kitchen. the lights are dim, and the space smells like fresh herbs and roasted garlic from dinner.

you stand there for a moment, the dim light in the kitchen casting soft shadows across the walls, the hum of quiet conversation from the dining room barely reaching you. luigi’s presence is still close, but not enough to feel suffocating—yet. he’s looking at the wine bottle, a thoughtful frown tugging at his features.

“you want a drink?” he asks, his voice casual, but there's an edge to it, like he’s testing something.

"for old times’ sake?"

the question catches you off guard. you hate that phrase. for old times' sake. it's loaded with too many memories, too much nostalgia, like it’s somehow asking you to remember the good things—before everything falls apart. it’s a sad thing to say, like trying to do something just to honor a love that’s already gone.

still, you don’t show it. you exhale slowly.

"sure, i’ll have one."

luigi pours the wine with an easy confidence, the motion familiar, but with a quiet intent. his hands are the same as you remember—strong, sure, and steady. when he hands you the glass, your fingers brush for a moment, and something stirs deep in you. you pull your hand back quickly, but the feeling lingers.

"cheers," he says, his voice low, almost too soft. when you meet his eyes, you see that familiar spark, something deep and unresolved, flickering in the brown depths.

you clink your glass against his, but don’t drink yet.

"you always liked to pour for me," you say lightly, trying to keep things casual, but the words come out sharper than you meant.

luigi gives a small smile, soft but knowing.

"guess i still remember how to treat you right."

it hits you then, how loaded that line is. is he trying to remind you of the past? or is he simply playing the part again? you don’t know, but you feel it all the same—everything that was once between you.

"i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again like this," he says quietly, his gaze soft but searching, like he’s waiting for a reaction.

"like what?" you ask, though you already know what he means.

"together. with someone else." his tone shifts slightly, something raw underneath, like he’s struggling to say it.

you sip the wine, letting the cool liquid fill the silence.

"well, i’m happy now."

you don’t mean to snap, but the words come out a little sharper than you intended. he notices, his frown deepening.

"i never meant to hurt you," he says, voice lower now, more genuine.

"i always thought we were good. but then... i don’t know. i just was so scared to lose you."

you look at him for a long moment, remembering all the things you tried to ignore before you walked away. but standing here now, it all feels so far behind you.

"i’m not the same person i was back then," you say quietly, the honesty pulling something tight in your chest.

luigi takes a deep breath, his eyes softening, before he looks away, tapping his fingers against the wine bottle.

"maybe neither of us are."

your boyfriend still hasn’t come back, and the quiet hum from the other room is now a distant sound. it’s just you and luigi, the air thick with something you can’t quite name. he looks at you, that familiar, easy smile making a slow return. the same smile that used to make your heart race.

"y'know," he says, glancing toward the door, "she went home a little while ago."

you raise an eyebrow. “your date?"

luigi shrugs, that same smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"yeah. she wasn’t really my type. just a fling, y'know?"

you almost don’t believe him, but the honesty in his voice catches you off guard. it’s like he’s showing a side of himself you didn’t expect. maybe he’s letting down the act, or maybe this is just the last remnants of his charm.

before you can say anything, luigi smiles, this time a little brighter, almost coaxing.

"come on," he says. "let’s talk somewhere quieter. it’s not often i get a real conversation with you anymore."

for a moment, doubt flickers in your mind. but you nod anyway, letting him lead you down the hall. the hallway is dimly lit, and his presence is a shadow ahead of you. he opens a door halfway down the hall, a guest room.

you follow him in, heart pounding for reasons you can’t explain.

luigi sits on the edge of the bed, glancing back at you as you stand in the doorway.

"i figured we’d be a little more comfortable in here."

you join him, sitting just a little farther away than you’d like, but the tension between you is palpable. he looks at you with something deeper than the cocky grin he used to wear, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself listening—really listening—to what he has to say.

"i never got a chance to explain," he says, his voice quieter now. "how things ended... i know i messed up."

you’re not sure what to do with the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity you never thought you’d hear from him again. and just as you're about to respond, your heartbeat stutters when you realize how close you are—how his eyes seem to pull you back into that place.

"maybe i can change," he says softly.

"if you’ll let me."

your body feels warm, but not from the alcohol this time. you’re sitting too close to him. his brown eyes lock with yours, and the pull is undeniable. the space between you seems to shrink as he leans in, the air heavy with something unspoken.

"you're not making this easy," you whisper.

he smirks, leaning just a little closer, his voice a low murmur.

"you never wanted it to be easy."

the words hang between you, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

his lips brush against yours, soft and hesitant. you feel his breath on your skin, and the tension melts away. his hands are already on your waist, the weight of his touch achingly familiar.

"i know we can't go back," he whispers, his voice thick with want.

"but maybe we can start over."

he kisses you again, his touch gentle but firm. you know how wrong it is, but the desire is too strong, and the guilt is already gone. you need this. he needs this.

his kiss is urgent now, his hands roaming across your body, his tongue meeting yours, sending sparks down your spine. he tastes like wine, and he kisses like he's missed you, like this is what he's wanted all along. you pull him closer, savoring the feel of him, his heat, the taste of him, and for a moment, the world goes silent. it's just you and him, in this space where the past is buried and the future is just a hazy blur.

"god, i've missed you so fuckin' much," he breathes, his lips tracing your jawline, his hands gripping your waist.

you pull away for a moment, breathless.

"we shouldn't be doing this."

he smiles, and the sight makes your heart stutter. he's so determined this time, and that makes it worse.

"what are we doing, then?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"i don't know," you murmur.

"you know you want this," he says. "i can feel it."

you look at him, seeing him in a new light. the cockiness is still there, but now you can see the longing behind it.

"it's not that easy," you say.

"i know," he says softly.

he kisses you again, his touch slow, deliberate, his lips exploring yours with a tenderness you've never felt from him. he comes closer, his chest pressing against yours, his hips meeting yours as he lays you down on the bed.

he's hard.

he presses against your thigh, and it takes all the willpower in you not to give in. you can feel the ache in him, and it mirrors the desire rising in you. you want this so badly, but it's too soon, too fast.

"we should stop," you say, the words coming out as a half-moan.

he groans, pulling away, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged.

"i know," he whispers.

there's a long pause.

"it's just," he continues, "this feels right. we shouldn't have to wait."

you look at him, really look at him. he looks so desperate. so honest.

"i don't know if i can do this again, lu," you say, your voice breaking a little. "not after last time."

he swallows, his gaze intense, his eyes filled with something you can't name.

"please let me show you," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. "let me show you fuckin' good i can be."

he kisses you again, and the heat between you rises. you kiss him back, and he groans against your lips, his body tensing, his grip on your waist tightening.

"please," he begs, his voice ragged, "i need you."

he kisses you again, his hands gripping your hips, his touch urgent, desperate. he kisses your neck, your jaw, your collarbone, his mouth hot on your skin. he kisses you everywhere, and the ache in you is so strong, you can't deny it any longer.

you gasp, pulling him closer, grinding your hips against his. his lips part, and his breath catches in his throat, his eyes dark with want.

"i missed you," he whispers. "fuck, i missed you so much."

you kiss him, tasting the wine on his tongue, feeling the heat of him. you need him.

you reach down and unbuckle his belt, your hand grazing his hardness, the sound of his sharp intake of breath sending a jolt through your body. he grips your wrist firmly as you pull away.

"you still like it like that?" he breathes, his voice low.

"always," you reply, and his eyes flash with excitement.

he kisses you deeply, his hand slipping under your dress, his fingers sliding across the lace of your underwear. you gasp, arching your back, a low moan escaping your lips.

"fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck.

he smiles softly against your skin, pulling your underwear aside, his fingers sliding across your slick folds. you shiver, biting back a moan.

"d'you want me to stop?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

you shake your head, pulling him closer, the ache in your core growing stronger. he slips a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and the pleasure is almost overwhelming.

"yes," you gasp, gripping the sheets.

"fuck," he groans, his fingers moving faster, the sound of your wetness filling the room.

"don't stop," you breathe, "please."

he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. "i'm gonna make you feel so fuckin' good."

he curls his fingers inside you, the friction sending sparks through your body, his thumb rubbing against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you writhe beneath him, gasping, panting, begging for more.

"cum for me, baby" he begs, his voice low and raspy, his touch sending you over the edge.

you cry out, arching your back, the waves of ecstasy crashing through you. he kisses you hungrily, his hand still moving between your legs, prolonging the bliss. you dig your fingers into his shoulders, your heart racing, the intensity overwhelming.

he pulls away, his lips glistening, a smirk on his face.

"see? you're still mine," he says, his voice rough.

"we should really stop," you say, breathless, but the words don't sound convincing, even to you.

he sighs, shaking his head.

"no," he says, his gaze softening, his eyes full of something deeper. "we don't have to."

the tension between you is electric. you can feel the desire in him, the need. you can't fight it anymore. you want him.

"let me make you feel good," he says, his voice soft.

you nod, the ache in your core deepening.

"i'm yours," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "always."

he kisses you again, and the world falls away. there's no past, no future, no hesitation. just the two of you, lost in each other, giving in to the desire that's been simmering for far too long.

he unbuttons his pants, and slides them down his hips, the outline of his hardness visible through his boxers.

"are you sure?" he asks, his gaze searching yours.

you nod, and the hunger in his eyes intensifies.

"fuck, you're so beautiful," he breathes.

he kneels before you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs.

"so perfect," he says, his gaze fixed on you, drinking in the sight of you.

he kisses your inner thighs, his tongue teasing you, his stubble tickling your skin. you writhe beneath him, the pleasure building, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer.

"you're so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his gaze locked with yours, his tongue tasting you.

you moan, arching your back, your hand tangling in his hair, the waves of ecstasy threatening to consume you.

"you're so good," he breathes, his hands sliding down your thighs, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass.

"luigi, please," you beg, your voice trembling, the ache in your core growing stronger.

he smirks, his fingers curling around your hips, his touch sending sparks through your body.

"fuck," he groans, his breath hot on your skin.

you wrap your legs around his shoulders, the heat between you rising, the tension building.

"oh god," you whimper, the waves of pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

"let go baby," he urges, his tongue circling your clit, his fingers sliding inside you, sending you over the edge.

you cry out, your body tensing, the waves of ecstasy crashing through you, the bliss unlike anything you've felt before.

"that's my girl," he says, his lips glistening, his gaze locked with yours, his touch drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming across your body, savoring every inch of you. he slips off his boxers, his hardness pressing against your thigh.

"are you ready for me?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

you nod, and the hunger in his eyes deepens.

he pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, the sensation making you gasp, your breath catching in your throat.

"fuck," he groans, his hips rocking against yours, his grip on your hips tightening.

you cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, the friction building, the pleasure overwhelming.

"don't stop," you beg, the waves of ecstasy washing over you, your body aching for release.

he thrusts into you, harder, faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing in the room, the tension rising.

"you're mine," he groans, his lips brushing against yours, his breath hot on your skin.

you wrap your legs around him, the friction building, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

"yours," you whisper, the word sending shivers down your spine.

"fuck yes," he breathes, his grip on your hips tightening, his movements growing more urgent.

"oh god," you whimper, the tension in you reaching its breaking point.

he groans, his hips meeting yours, the pressure building, the pleasure rising.

"cum for me, baby," he groans, the hunger in his gaze sending you over the edge.

you arch your back, the waves of ecstasy rolling through you, the bliss unlike anything you've felt before.

he pulls out, spilling onto your stomach, the sight of him losing himself setting off a second wave of pleasure.

you cling to him, the two of you tangled together, your heart pounding, the heat between you rising.

he collapses on top of you, breathless, spent, his arms wrapping around you. you cling to him, the warmth of his embrace soothing the ache in your core.

"you're so perfect," he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

"that was..." you start, but the words don't seem like enough.

he smiles, his gaze softening.

"it's like we never left each other," he says.

you nod, the realization settling in, the doubt fading away.

[rhys-ravenfeather]

I know everyone and their dog has already talked about the Luigi Mangione and Briana Boston thing at this point...and I will admit upfront that this is based somewhat off a post I saw earlier, but you know what? I feel like putting in my own two cents.

There's an online article I've read a couple times now about the father of one of the little boys who was killed in the Sandy Hook shooting. If anyone is really curious, I can DM you the article, but just a heads-up...it's not a fun read. Just...the bile that this man, this grieving father, who has had to walk by his six-year-old son's empty bedroom, knowing that he's never going to see his child again had to face, just for choosing to go public with his story--so many people accused him and his family of lying, of being actors paid by the government, one person even said that they 'knew' his wife was an actor because, and literally only because, she wore lipstick to her son's funeral. I really, really, wish I was joking about that.

The dad founded a non-profit organization that I now feel obligated to post the link for, in the hopes that this man and his family can find the justice and peace they so rightly deserve after someone came to their child's school with a gun to make literal children pay for his problems: https://honrnetwork.org/

I hate guns.

And I really hate when people use the 'Guns don't kill people, people kill people!' argument after every new school shooting, or other tragedy involving innocent people being gunned down, so they can hold onto their precious, precious guns.

But I'm not shedding any tears over a CEO who killed many more people, be it indirectly or even directly, through his greed, apathy, and selfishness.

I don't feel any sympathy for his family, whose wealth was built on the suffering of common people.

And the fact that for once, someone went directly to the source of his problems instead of misdirecting his anger towards innocents, and the only ones grieving are other billionaires, and not one person has brought up that tired old argument, speaks volumes.

[horrorhouse]

What is health care supposed to do if not make life-saving treatment financially possible? UHC took people's money for health care they are legally required to have, then didn't do that one thing, and many many people died. Brian Thompson made those choices and could've reverted them at any time, but he used they money he made from those deaths to live in places those families never could and tour the world. Why do you support him? He was killing people; those who could've done something didn't. If you think there was a better option, why didn't you do it? Why didn't you save those tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands even, from dying of curable diseases? Why would you rather they keep dying?

Whoever killed Brian Thompson saved my life. They killed a man I could never reach and for it I get to live. I'm far from the only one. To me, they are a hero.

It's interesting that you think defending a murder victim means that I support what they do in their job. No, I don't support the use of AI to approve or deny medical care, which is what was happening. I also don't approve the high cost of medical supplies. Have you ever looked at an itemized hospital bill? I did once and they charged $100 per aspirin tablet. I could buy an entire bottle for $2 over-the-counter at a store. You can hate what Thompson did all you want. He's still a human being, a father, a husband, someone's son.

I also don't support a murdering scumbag like Luigi Mangione, nor do I have to. If you had any humanity in you, you'd see he's a coward. BTW, if he had a problem with the company, why did he go after someone who was head of one branch of the company and not the ACTUAL CEO? Mangione didn't have a plan with UnitedHealth, nor did anyone in his family. His actions were purely self-serving. He's not a hero. He's not Robin Hood. Don't be naive.

[that-one-i-think]

I hate that people are acting like supporting the UHC shooter/ Luigi Mangione makes them a champion of the working class, and then they’ll turn around and mock lower-class British culture, or Americans who are getting health conditions because they live in food deserts, and so on.

people think ‘I’m poor, my health insurance screws me over, I’ve gained class consciousness!’ and then they decide that people who are more poor than them, or poor in a different way, are worth mocking for the different ways they are impacted/respond to their own poverty. Yes, you have, you’ve gained consciousness that you’re above these people and that they’re not worth your respect or understanding.

I am never going to bash it when people are beginning to realise political views for themselves, or truly champion for change, but I just find it hypocritical that people will begin stating ‘eat the rich’ for how they’ve been treated when they’re treating even poorer people the same way.

Part of it is due to the fact that a lot of the people who have gained that version of 'class consciousness' aren't actually as poor as they claim to be and more often than not are middle class. The unfortunate fact is, the American Medical System is so corrupt that you have to be genuinely rich in order to not be somewhat crippled by it. So the 'I'm so poor and gained class consciousness uwu' aren't poor.

Like, I grew up GENUINELY poor, like bananas and other types of fruit not canned were a luxury at times, and I have had friends who grew up middle class and the divide there is large as hell in America. At one point I was upper poor hanging out with friends low middle class and they still didn't understand things. (Cause apparently coughing up blood isn't normal? Can't relate lol [I'm fine])

'I have class consciousness' Cool, you gonna be nice to the janitor? You gonna respect blue collar work? You not gonna judge people who use public transport? You said it perfectly tbh, cause there is no respect.

Also, gonna say this, too many people jumped on the "OH he's hoooot!" Bandwagon and not the "Shit the message of the crime that happened that he is being accused of has genuine meaning"

[writtenbychris]

A/N: this was hastily written and I didn't proofread. For context, im a reality shifter and this is a story for my drself/original character. You can read it as an x reader but I will not be tagging it as such because I hate it when people do that.

Warnings: none

Luigi Mangione x OC/Drself

Even though Luciana was in excruciating pain, she still showed up for her fiance’s court hearing in December (alongside 24 other random ass women) and was now waiting for the next one, she was using her social media platforms to bring more traffic to what was happening to Luigi and squash any arising misinformation, but she still felt like she was wasting her time doing nothing. She was going to be in NYC for the foreseeable future since she was self-employed and therefore had no boss to report to, yet they still refused to grant Luigi conjugal visits, so she can’t even comfort him in person.

Luciana fell into a depression doom scroll that lasted multiple hours. Her eyes were drying out from crying so much but she didn’t care. But one video on her tiktok For You page caught her attention:

“LUIGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! I BROUGHT YOU THE BAJA BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST! LUIIIIGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!”

Now she had an idea of what to do!

Luciana showed up in front of the side of the prison where her fiance was being held and was both shocked and delighted to see that a group of supporters were already there shouting his name, cheering for him, banging things together, etc., just to let him know that he wasn’t alone in this.

She smiled as she watched the lights flicker on and off in his room, an indication that the praise was reaching him.

“Luciana’s here!” a young woman shouted!

The group began to cheer for her now, ecstatic that Luigi’s fiance herself has shown up to support him once again.

“Hi..!” she said shyly. She could never handle it when the center of attention was so abruptly shifted to her, she hated that.

“Hey, is someone willing to let me get on their shoulders?”

“What-? Why-??” another girl questioned.

“You’ll see,” Luciana replied with playful secrecy. “But don’t be too loud!”

“I can do it,” a dad with two middle school aged girls volunteered.

“Thank you so much!”

The dad hoisted Luciana up onto his shoulder and took a few steps closer to the fence surrounding the prison. Luciana took in as much air as her lungs would allow her to and then some, then shouted so loud that she gave herself a migraine.

“LUIGI IT’S ME, YOUR FIANCE!! LUCIANA!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!”

The lights in Luigi’s cell immediately began to flicker like crazy, prompting the crowd to start cheering and making noise again. But then the light went out momentarily, and then began to flicker in a rather odd series of longs and shorts.

“Wait why is he flickering the lights like that? He wasn’t doing that before!”

“He’s saying ‘I Iove you’ to her in morse code!”

A symphony of “Awwwww!”, “That’s so cute!”, “Oh my goshhh!”, and various other things erupted amongst the group. Luciana felt absolutely on top of the world for the first time since he proposed to her, the weight of her love and his unwavering response lifting her higher than the shoulders she sat on.

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” Luciana shouted back with a smile.

Taglist:

@ariestrxsh

Dividers creds go to @anitalenia

[weaverreaver42]

I want it noted I do in fact hate that Trump won, and think less of his voter base for being willing to vote for him.

I'm not going to do the liberal BS of "Oh you should have voted for Harris specifically because" blah blah blah. We know we live in a broken system, and we know the reality of the situation sucks. If you want to hope for a better tomorrow without trying to compromise your morals in someway, fine. HOWEVER: Collapsing the government could also have lead to such an outcome and at this point I'm not exactly arguing with anyone who claims we are already on that path.

But that's a side tangent to cover my bases for a different point.

I HATE Trump, and though a previous post (Where I made it clear that my disdain for trump is enough that I very well could get targeted by some government agency for it) implied I was willing to side with his followers on an issue if it gets the overall end result I want... that doesn't mean I don't think you are an awful person for choosing to vote for him. Money matters less than people. A serial rapist should not be given that kind of power when they have never been held accountable, if you say even after facing accountability and reforming you wouldn't trust someone convicted of that to have such power- I wouldn't dare argue. A man who would/does actively benefit on people's suffering and the maintaining of a status quo that sucks for 99.999+% of humanity shouldn't have had such unreasonable success TWICE. A man who instigated an actual attempted coup, literal terrorism, avoiding a trial while Luigi Mangione- A MAN WHO PEOPLE HAVE ACTIVELY BEEN MAKING ARGUMENTS MIGHT NOT ACTUALLY BE THE CEO KILLER- is already in custody is a slap in the face to anything Americans would dare to claim to believe in (especially when you remember Luigi is ALSO being tried for terrosim despite indications that whoever did it actively attempted to preserve life as much as possible in the killing meaning that if it was him he was trying to avoid hurting anyone but the CEO).

If you voted for trump, whether you admit it or not, you are partially responsible for the state of America as it is today and will shape it at least for the next coming decade (9/11 was 23 years ago, you think a coup from an ex-president WON'T have that level of impact?). You actively hurt yourself and those around you- both those you love and hate. Life has been and will continue to be worse for choices you've made. It was a choice you made to pick HIM over literally just saying "all these options suck" and deciding to hope for the best and not try to do more damage by tipping the scales. Self-destruction and indecision are both choices, but at least indecision isn't guaranteed to hurt those around you. No one is an island, you can't escape your impact on those around you.

Most Importantly

There may be a day where those you've impacted realize the choices you made.

I know I can die, having tried my best to be better even to those I don't like or respect. To try and actively be better even when it sucks and hurts and has no real benefit, just because SOMEONE has to take that first step.

The people who voted for Trump? You all AGREED to let someone take power who very clearly made hateful people feel safe enough to threaten anyone they felt like- even the government and those in power. Who actively tried to protect or justify bigotry and attempts at genuine harm to others.

Most people who would want me dead, do so with the feeling being mutual ONLY because I know there are plenty of innocent others they would knowingly let get hurt. You people, who are possibly reading this after voting for that man? You can live with knowing, people who want you dead very well might be justified in doing so.

I would stand by a nazi, if only for the world to stand still long enough in confusion for us to agree that Nazi's and similar beliefs/groups should never have begun to exist in the first place and make sure it never happens again. Because I hope to FUCK people aren't stupid enough to deny the absolute self-destructive paradox that is the modern human existence forever. I hope people are smart enough to realize, if a person who believes in human rights and hates bigots of any kind is willing to stand by a nazi on a subject- it's for a motive other than agreeing with a nazi.