#the Special Criminal Court has heard

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Holy CRAP the UN Cybercrime Treaty is a nightmare

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If there's one thing I learned from all my years as an NGO delegate to UN specialized agencies, it's that UN treaties are dangerous, liable to capture by unholy alliances of authoritarian states and rapacious global capitalists.

Most of my UN work was on copyright and "paracopyright," and my track record was 2:0; I helped kill a terrible treaty (the WIPO Broadcast Treaty) and helped pass a great one (the Marrakesh Treaty on the rights of people with disabilities to access copyrighted works):

https://www.wipo.int/treaties/en/ip/marrakesh/

It's been many years since I had to shave and stuff myself into a suit and tie and go to Geneva, and I don't miss it – and thankfully, I have colleagues who do that work, better than I ever did. Yesterday, I heard from one such EFF colleague, Katitza Rodriguez, about the Cybercrime Treaty, which is about to pass, and which is, to put it mildly, terrifying:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/07/un-cybercrime-draft-convention-dangerously-expands-state-surveillance-powers

Look, cybercrime is a real thing, from pig butchering to ransomware, and there's real, global harms that can be attributed to it. Cybercrime is transnational, making it hard for cops in any one jurisdiction to handle it. So there's a reason to think about formal international standards for fighting cybercrime.

But that's not what's in the Cybercrime Treaty.

Here's a quick sketch of the significant defects in the Cybercrime Treaty.

The treaty has an extremely loose definition of cybercrime, and that looseness is deliberate. In authoritarian states like China and Russia (whose delegations are the driving force behind this treaty), "cybercrime" has come to mean "anything the government disfavors, if you do it with a computer." "Cybercrime" can mean online criticism of the government, or professions of religious belief, or material supporting LGBTQ rights.

Nations that sign up to the Cybercrime Treaty will be obliged to help other nations fight "cybercrime" – however those nations define it. They'll be required to provide surveillance data – for example, by forcing online services within their borders to cough up their users' private data, or even to pressure employees to install back-doors in their systems for ongoing monitoring.

These obligations to aid in surveillance are mandatory, but much of the Cybercrime Treaty is optional. What's optional? The human rights safeguards. Member states "should" or "may" create standards for legality, necessity, proportionality, non-discrimination, and legitimate purpose. But even if they do, the treaty can oblige them to assist in surveillance orders that originate with other states that decided not to create these standards.

When that happens, the citizens of the affected states may never find out about it. There are eight articles in the treaty that establish obligations for indefinite secrecy regarding surveillance undertaken on behalf of other signatories. That means that your government may be asked to spy on you and the people you love, they may order employees of tech companies to backdoor your account and devices, and that fact will remain secret forever. Forget challenging these sneak-and-peek orders in court – you won't even know about them:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/06/un-cybercrime-draft-convention-blank-check-unchecked-surveillance-abuses

Now here's the kicker: while this treaty creates broad powers to fight things governments dislike, simply by branding them "cybercrime," it actually undermines the fight against cybercrime itself. Most cybercrime involves exploiting security defects in devices and services – think of ransomware attacks – and the Cybercrime Treaty endangers the security researchers who point out these defects, creating grave criminal liability for the people we rely on to warn us when the tech vendors we rely upon have put us at risk.

This is the granddaddy of tech free speech fights. Since the paper tape days, researchers who discovered defects in critical systems have been intimidated, threatened, sued and even imprisoned for blowing the whistle. Tech giants insist that they should have a veto over who can publish true facts about the defects in their products, and dress up this demand as concern over security. "If you tell bad guys about the mistakes we made, they will exploit those bugs and harm our users. You should tell us about those bugs, sure, but only we can decide when it's the right time for our users and customers to find out about them."

When it comes to warnings about the defects in their own products, corporations have an irreconcilable conflict of interest. Time and again, we've seen corporations rationalize their way into suppressing or ignoring bug reports. Sometimes, they simply delay the warning until they've concluded a merger or secured a board vote on executive compensation.

Sometimes, they decide that a bug is really a feature – like when Facebook decided not to do anything about the fact that anyone could enumerate the full membership of any Facebook group (including, for example, members of a support group for people with cancer). This group enumeration bug was actually a part of the company's advertising targeting system, so they decided to let it stand, rather than re-engineer their surveillance advertising business.

The idea that users are safer when bugs are kept secret is called "security through obscurity" and no one believes in it – except corporate executives. As Bruce Schneier says, "Anyone can design a system that is so secure that they themselves can't break it. That doesn't mean it's secure – it just means that it's secure against people stupider than the system's designer":

The history of massive, brutal cybersecurity breaches is an unbroken string of heartbreakingly naive confidence in security through obscurity:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

But despite this, the idea that some bugs should be kept secret and allowed to fester has powerful champions: a public-private partnership of corporate execs, government spy agencies and cyber-arms dealers. Agencies like the NSA and CIA have huge teams toiling away to discover defects in widely used products. These defects put the populations of their home countries in grave danger, but rather than reporting them, the spy agencies hoard these defects.

The spy agencies have an official doctrine defending this reckless practice: they call it "NOBUS," which stands for "No One But Us." As in: "No one but us is smart enough to find these bugs, so we can keep them secret and use them attack our adversaries, without worrying about those adversaries using them to attack the people we are sworn to protect."

NOBUS is empirically wrong. In the 2010s, we saw a string of leaked NSA and CIA cyberweapons. One of these, "Eternalblue" was incorporated into off-the-shelf ransomware, leading to the ransomware epidemic that rages even today. You can thank the NSA's decision to hoard – rather than disclose and patch – the Eternalblue exploit for the ransoming of cities like Baltimore, hospitals up and down the country, and an oil pipeline:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EternalBlue

The leak of these cyberweapons didn't just provide raw material for the world's cybercriminals, it also provided data for researchers. A study of CIA and NSA NOBUS defects found that there was a one-in-five chance of a bug that had been hoarded by a spy agency being independently discovered by a criminal, weaponized, and released into the wild.

Not every government has the wherewithal to staff its own defect-mining operation, but that's where the private sector steps in. Cyber-arms dealers like the NSO Group find or buy security defects in widely used products and services and turn them into products – military-grade cyberweapons that are used to attack human rights groups, opposition figures, and journalists:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/24/breaking-the-news/#kingdom

A good Cybercrime Treaty would recognize the perverse incentives that create the coalition to keep us from knowing which products we can trust and which ones we should avoid. It would shut down companies like the NSO Group, ban spy agencies from hoarding defects, and establish an absolute defense for security researchers who reveal true facts about defects.

Instead, the Cybercrime Treaty creates new obligations on signatories to help other countries' cops and courts silence and punish security researchers who make these true disclosures, ensuring that spies and criminals will know which products aren't safe to use, but we won't (until it's too late):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/06/if-not-amended-states-must-reject-flawed-draft-un-cybercrime-convention

A Cybercrime Treaty is a good idea, and even this Cybercrime Treaty could be salvaged. The member-states have it in their power to accept proposed revisions that would protect human rights and security researchers, narrow the definition of "cybercrime," and mandate transparency. They could establish member states' powers to refuse illegitimate requests from other countries:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/media-briefing-eff-partners-warn-un-member-states-are-poised-approve-dangerou

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/23/expanded-spying-powers/#in-russia-crime-cybers-you

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/files/banner_library/cybercrime-2024-2b.jpg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One

Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex

A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.

Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.

Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.

A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.

The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.

Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.

Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”

Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”

Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”

Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”

A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”

It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”

An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.

It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.

For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”

Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”

“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”

“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”

Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.

Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”

Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”

Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”

Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.

Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.

You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”

There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”

“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”

“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.

“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”

Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”

Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”

“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”

Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”

“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.

“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.

“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”

“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”

No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.

You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”

Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.

Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.

“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”

Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.

Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”

Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”

She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.

“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.

She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”

Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.

Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.

Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.

But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.

“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”

“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”

Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”

Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.

Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.

“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”

Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”

Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.

“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”

“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.

Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”

Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.

“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”

Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.

As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.

There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.

It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.

Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”

Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?

Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.

Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.

[simply-ivanka]

Trump and the Lawfare Implosion of 2024

Will his prosecution end up putting him back in the White House?

Wall Street Journal

By Kimberley A. Strassel

What’s that old saying about the “best-laid plans”? Democrats banked that a massive lawfare campaign against Donald Trump would strengthen their hold on the White House. As that legal assault founders, they’re left holding the bag known as Joe Biden.

In Florida on Tuesday, Judge Aileen Cannon postponed indefinitely the start of special counsel Jack Smith’s classified-documents trial. The judge noted the original date, May 20, is impossible given the messy stack of pretrial motions on her desk. The prosecution is fuming, while the press insinuates—or baldly asserts—that the judge is biased for Mr. Trump, incompetent or both. But it is Mr. Smith and his press gaggle who are living in legal unreality, attempting to rush the process to accommodate a political timeline.

What did they expect? Mr. Smith waited until 2023 to file legally novel charges involving classified documents, a former president, and a complex set of statutes governing presidential records. The pretrial disputes—some sealed for national-security reasons—involve weighty questions about rules governing the admission of classified documents in criminal trials, discovery, scope and even whether Mr. Smith’s appointment as special counsel was lawful. Judge Cannon notes the court has a “duty to fully and fairly consider” all of these, which she believes will take until at least July. This could push any trial beyond the election.

Mr. Smith’s indictments in the District of Columbia, alleging that Mr. Trump plotted to overturn the 2020 election, have separately gone to the Supreme Court, where the justices are determining whether and when a former president is immune from criminal prosecution for acts while in office. A decision on the legal question is expected in June, whereupon the case will likely return to the lower courts to apply it to the facts. That may also mean no trial before the election.

A Georgia appeals court this week decided it would review whether Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis can continue leading her racketeering case against Mr. Trump in light of the conflict presented by her romantic relationship with the former special prosecutor. The trial judge is unlikely to proceed while this major issue is pending, and the appeals process could take up to six months.

Which leaves the lawfare crowd’s last, best hope in Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg’s muddled charges on that Trump 2016 “hush money” deal with adult-film star Stormy Daniels. That case was a mess well before Judge Juan Merchan allowed Ms. Daniels to provide the jury Kama-Sutra-worthy descriptions of her claimed sexual tryst with Mr. Trump, during which she intimated several times that the encounter was nonconsensual.

Mr. Trump is charged with falsifying records, not sexual assault, and even the judge acknowledged the jury heard things that “would have been better left unsaid.” He tried to blame the defense for not objecting enough during her testimony, but it’s the judge’s job to keep witnesses on task. Judge Merchan refused a Trump request for a mistrial, but his openness to issuing a “limiting instruction” to the jury—essentially an order to unhear prejudicial testimony—is an acknowledgment that things went off the rails. If Mr. Trump is convicted, it’s also a strong Trump argument for reversal on appeal.

Little, in short, is going as planned. The lawfare strategy from the start: pile on Mr. Trump in a way that ensured Republicans would rally for his nomination, then use legal proceedings to crush his ability to campaign, drain his resources, and make him too toxic (or isolated in prison) to win a general election. He won the nomination, but the effort against him is flailing, courtesy of an echo chamber of anti-Trump prosecutors and journalists who continue to indulge the fantasy that every court, judge, jury and timeline exists to dance to their partisan fervor.

These own goals are striking. Mr. Smith wouldn’t be facing delays if he’d acknowledged up front the important constitutional question of presidential immunity, or if he’d sought an indictment for obstruction of justice and forgone charging Mr. Trump with improperly handling classified documents, which gets into legally complicated territory. The federal charges might carry more weight with the public had Mr. Bragg refrained from bringing a flimsy case that makes the whole effort look wildly partisan. And Ms. Willis’s romantic escapades have turned her legal overreach into a reality-TV joke.

Democrats faced a critical choice last year: Try to win an election by confronting the real problem of a weak and old president presiding over unpopular far-left policies, or try to rig an outcome by embracing a lawfare stratagem. They chose the latter. Perhaps a court will still convict Mr. Trump of something, although that could play either way with the electorate. Lawfare as politics is a very risky business.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Joan McCarter at Daily Kos:

The U.S. Supreme Court heard Donald Trump’s immunity claim in his federal criminal trial for trying to overturn the 2020 election Thursday, and the conservative majority is likely going to give Donald Trump what he wants: a delay of the trial until after the election. If Trump wins again, the conservatives have essentially signaled that they would be open to blanket immunity for him against any future criminal charges.   The fact that Supreme Court justices are suggesting that the president is above the law proves why the court must be reformed. Four of the justices—Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, Brett Kavanaugh, and Neil Gorsuch—even went so far as to suggest that special counsel Jack Smith’s entire prosecution is unconstitutional, and they reinforced Trump’s argument that the president is immune. Kavanaugh even told Michael Dreeben, a lawyer from Smith’s office, that it’s a “serious constitutional question whether a criminal statute can apply to the president’s criminal acts.”

That would be the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card for the chief executive, rubber stamped by the highest court of the land. It’s worth remembering that Thomas refused to recuse himself from this—and most of the Trump election interference cases—despite the fact that his wife, Ginni Thomas, was deeply involved in Trump’s coup attempt. When she testified to the Jan. 6 special congressional committee, she maintained that the election was stolen.  His failure to recuse himself comes after a new ethics code has supposedly been enforced, saying that “a Justice should disqualify himself or herself in a proceeding in which the Justice’s impartiality might reasonably be questioned, that is, where an unbiased and reasonable person who is aware of all relevant circumstances would doubt that the Justice could fairly discharge his or her duties.” So much for that suggestion from Chief Justice John Roberts. His code has no teeth, which is yet another reason why ethics reform—and indeed court reform and expansion—is essential. 

Joan McCarter writes in Daily Kos that the Trump v. United States "immunity" case is a good reason to reform and expand SCOTUS.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 33 (Detective Gordon Risks His Job)

Conrad couldn’t shake a strange feeling, like he wasn’t himself anymore, suddenly living an entirely different life. He was an honest cop, but he was willing to bend the rules for her.

Even Gord looked at his best friend strangely, barking as he followed him from the cruiser to Spire Tower. "I know what you're thinking," said Conrad. "But I think this is why the captain put me on the case."

Gord let out a low, cautious growl.

"I know it could just as easily put me on indefinite leave, but I can't be the cop who puts her behind bars, either."

Conrad thought back to the conversation with his captain that sent him to the coast.

"I need you for a special assignment, Gordon. Your father used to work Landgraab security, did he not?"

Conrad glanced at his hands. His dad had been dead a few years and he still missed him. "He was Chester Landgraab's head of security before they both retired."

"You knew their son, didn't you? That smarmy reporter on Simlandia National."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I knew Malcolm when we were kids, but I haven't spoken to him in at least sixteen years. Why all the questions about the Landgraabs?"

"You must've heard they were hacked."

"I expected to see a case file about it at some point."

"I got a call this morning about a lead. We're keeping this one off the books until there's solid evidence for a conviction at Nancy Landgraab's request."

Conrad chuckled. "I thought the Landgraabs loved being in the news."

"The hacker used her credentials to get into the system. Let's just say this one's personal, and I need a computer geek who can navigate the Landgraabs to handle this one before it blows back on our department somehow. You know the Landgraabs love spin."

The last thing Nancy Landgraab wanted was to give Heather a chance to court public opinion before she was hung out to dry. That alone left a bad taste in Conrad’s mouth, even before he drove to Brindleton Bay and met Heather himself.

Nancy answered when Conrad buzzed up from the lobby. He looked at the luxurious decor when he entered, patiently waiting. He used to think Spire Tower was the only place worth living in all of San Myshuno. But now the penthouse felt cold and stark, like the Landgraabs themselves. "Little Conrad Gordon, is that you all grown up?"

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Landgraab."

"Please, call me Nancy. I was sorry to hear about your father. He was always my father's favourite employee!"

Conrad nodded politely. "He loved his years working for your father."

Malcolm, in a glum mood, joined his mother and childhood friend in the living room. "So you became a cop?"

"Yeah, I don't really have the charisma to do the TV reporter thing."

"Nonsense. You were the most respectful of Malcolm's friends. If all his friends had been like you I might not have needed to send him to boarding school."

"Thanks, Mrs. Landgraab, but I'm not here to talk about the past. The captain sent me to Brindleton Bay this morning."

Nancy's polite smile faded to a scowl. "And? Did you come here to say that woman has been arrested?"

"Mom, what did you do?"

Nancy glared hawkishly toward her son. "I'm trying to clean up your mistakes as usual, Malcolm."

"I didn't find the evidence you need," Conrad lied. "But you know the captain keeps your investigations unofficially open until you call to close them yourself. She's still a suspect, but this all feels more like a family disagreement than a criminal investigation. She knows you stole her code."

"She is not family," insisted Nancy. "She is the woman manipulating my grandson."

"Mom, Ash can't even talk yet."

"And it's a shock you even know that, Malcolm!"

Conrad could feel the tension rising and he raised his hand to clear the air. "Listen, I'm just a detective and this case has nothing to do with me, otherwise, but you should think about whether sending his mother to prison is the best thing for your grandson."

"Please. She'd be out of the way and cease to be a bigger thorn in my side than my idiot brother," Nancy sniffed. "And we'll out-lawyer her every step of the way if she wants to charge us for stealing her code."

Malcolm threw up his arms in frustration. "Dammit, Mom. We're not pressing charges tonight, alright?" He turned to the detective. "It's nice to see you again, Conrad. Thank you for coming by. And for not filing a report."

This was a demand, not a request. Though Conrad was proper, polite, and a rule-follower by nature, he nodded in agreement. Conrad didn't want to file a report any more than he did.

With Malcolm again pulled in different directions, the young detective left him pondering what to do next. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[glitteringsunshine]

Gibbs’s Gal

Part 1

Pairing : Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

( crossover with madam Secretary)

Reader’s POV:

“Okay the reports done.” Jay said. “ You think these joint task force reports would be easy, but getting approval from all the departments is a real headache.”

“ So what’s the final title of the report?” I asked.

“ Corruption in selected foreign military and the difficulties in building Infrastructure” Phew. Err some parts of the NCIS report has been redacted. I don’t know why.” Blake said.

“ Well we need to find out. I mean the it’s their marines who are working for the state building infrastructure. But state has the right to know ground data.” I said.

“ Yeah ,I tried to talk with the NCIS Director but he shut me out. “ Nadine said.

“ Well its not only State’s development money , but it is also the funding of many international Agencies. We can’t put up redacted reports to the UN.” I stated.

“ Well I will ask Russell Jackson to look it up. After all nothing is Privy from POTUS”. As his chief of staff Russell Jackson will know what to do.

….

“ Y/N , come with me to Russell Jackson”. The Msec said.

“ About the Corruption report?” I asked .

“ Yes”.

I quickly hopped in with Msec in her motorcade.

“ Ohh wow aren’t we going to his office?” I asked.

“ Apparently a top secret meeting is going to happen here.” She said.

“ Really ! In the Men's Restroom.” I rolled my eyes.

“ Well not my first choice” she chuckled.

“ Apparently Henry is coming in too” she said.

“ What’s DIA have to do with the report?” I asked.

“ Yeah I would like to know why I am meeting my husband in a men’s room too Y/N, sorta reminds me of college” she chuckled.

“ I heard the door open and saw Tony and McGee walk in.”

“ Hello Y/N, nice to see you”. McGee said.

“ Hello” Tony said warmly. “Gibbs asked us to come here, any idea why?”

“ Vague one. BTW meet the Secretary of State”

“ Huge fan” They said in unison. “ Ma’am you are my favourite politician” Tony said.

“ Don’t say that . She hates the word” I chuckled.

“ Done being a fan, Dinozzo ? Then we can discuss stuff.” I heard Gibbs say as Henry ,Gibbs and the Director of NCIS walked in, followed closely by Russell Jackson.

Introductions were made. Though all of us knew others by reputation.

“ This is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs” Henry said. He is a fellow marine. He served under me in the marines. I believe you two have met before.”

“ Yes we crossed paths a few times related to work” I nodded.

“OK”said Russell Jackson. “In a Joint mission by NCIS and DIA we have uncovered alarming human rights violations in the countries mentioned in the report. The part redacted is actually the source that helped us uncover this.”

“ We studied the file” . “ Well State knew we were fighting Corruption, but this is cruel”.

“ Yes” Henry said. “ They kept it so hushed up , even CIA did not catch wind.” One of the translators working there when we were deployed as Marines has now rose in their military ranks. He brought this to us.”

“Henry, I mean Dr . McCord worked extensively with him, the asset ,our source. . Henry was not only my superior officer in the Marines, but we hung out together. Anyhow that’s how we met him , in a bar while we were hanging out. He was young , idealistic and Dr McCord hired him . We were in dearth of translators and he helped us. Anyhow we are planning to present the military leader in the international Criminal Court.”

“ We have frozen some of his assets. However he got wind of it. The dictator thinks there is a leak. Before we can pursue the dictator , we need to get our asset out. Now the state is visiting to Geneva right , to sign a trade deal?”

“ Now the asset trusts only Henry and Gibbs” Russell Jackson said. “ The asset is visiting Geneva with the dictator. We can take him in safety there. Henry and Gibbs have to go. Henry’s cover is as Msec’s arm candy. Gibbs will your date Y/N. Since the event in WTO mentions that staff could bring dates, he will be yours.”

I nodded.

“ Oh one more thing. The week in Geneva, you will be sharing a room with him. The dictator suspects we might to do an extraction. If by any chance he gets to know a staff’s date is in a separate room, he will get our plan. We need to be careful. “

“ I am Okay with it if Special Agent Gibbs is” I said , to which he nodded.

“ While Henry and Gibbs works the extraction, your job is to get the trade deal signed by him. It’s a multilateral agreement and when we present him to the International Criminal Court, there will be instability in the country. We don’t know if we could get his successor to agree to the trade deal. Since they control vital maritime routes , it’s important we get them to sign the deal. “

“ Now that his assets are frozen, he might use the trade deal as a leverage to unfreeze it. We can’t unfreeze the assets. Then the dictator would escape before we could get to him.” Russell said.

“ So Y/N” you would have to drop into NCIS once to work on your cover.” Henry said.

“ While you are at it familiarize Jethro with the protocols okay.” Msec said.

…

Jethro’s POV:

I saw Y/N walking in with a huge binder. How on earth does she work in those heels. Well they were sexy though. I would like to fuck her with those boots on. Wow from where did that thought come from. I blinked to get that image off my head.

“ Well here are the protocols. Covers the banquets ,dinners etc. There are pointers on the meet and greet style for people from different countries. Learn them” she said taking off her coat.

“McGee pointers” I said handing the file over to him.

“ Gibbs protocol is important. Go through it.” She said leaning against my desk.

As she did ,I could see her cleavage peeking out from her blouse. I suddenly had this urge to cup her voluptuous breasts, knead them. She was inches from my mouth. I wondered how her lips would taste. Her dark red lipstick looked so enticing. I got this urge to brush my thumb on her lips, to kiss her with a passion she has never known. Her eyes beneath her glasses spoke of wild seduction and pure temptation. Like the finest whiskey in a crystal glass, it sparkled against the light. What attracted me more was the inherent kindness and exuberance that was reflected in her eyes, like hot chocolate on a cold December night. I couldn’t look away from her. She held my gaze until she blinked. “ Gibbs you have to read them okay. I don’t care if Mcgee helps with a framework or something , but get it done, okay. McGee I will highlight the important points.”

As she bent down to talk to McGee, I couldn’t help but stare at her ass. The loose skirt she wore did not really highlight her body, but as she bend down, I could see her attractive curves, the voluptuous beauty if it, from the bent of her hips and ass to her lovely thighs. I heard her laugh with McGee. Suddenly I was filled with an insane jealous rage.

“ Do your job McGee. You can laugh and fool around later. Y/N in Abby’s lab now. Let’s get it over with the cover story . I have other cases to solve.” I said.

I barged out ,Y/N following me.

“ Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs” Abby said. “ Look I went through the Admiral’s journal.He was going through a divorce right. So I finally managed to read through it , not easy because of the codes , but look he found out that his lawyer arranged for someone to roofie his wife and take suggestive photos , making everyone believe that she had cheated. That’s when our missing Admiral wanted to confront the lawyer.”

“ I need more Abby.”

“ See the lawyer meets her clients out of her office. She has this weird jamming programme where we can’t triangulate her cell location. But if we get her to meet , I can access her cell data, her client list , her records of who she set up , how she got the roofie, who she used a photographer, everything.”

“ We need to get the location of our kidnapped admiral. Or else she would leverage that for a deal.”

“ Well Gibbs you can go in as a client. You can tell her to meet at a bar my friend owns. She has great tech that breaks signal jammers for video games. She uses them in her bar ,so she could play video games without any interference. I can put in someone undercover as a waitress . In that way while I attach a chip on you to hack her phone data, someone can get her phone locations.”

“ Well, Ziva, Kate, Jessica and Ellie have all interrogated and talked to her. So who to put.” I ask.

“ Her” Abby says looking at Y/N.

“ You can go undercover right?” I asked. Why didn’t it strike me before.

“ What me? Hmm ok” Y/N says.

…

“ Stop fidgeting Y/N” I said, looking at her in her waitress uniform.

“ The skirt is too short and tight” she said pulling at it.

“ Ohh God. I don’t have the body for such an outfit. I look awkward. There’s no way I can pull it off. Your lawyer will know something is off.”

“ Relax. You look wonderful. You can’t pull it off. “

“ Uhh huh keep the coat in the van and walk. There is no way a waitress can afford such a coat.” I said.

“ Got the data Boss” we have her. McGee said.

“ Yeah got all the locations she had been. “ Abby said.

“Okay Tony ,Nick follow the lawyer.”

“ Jessica , Ellie get to location 1 ,Ziva and Kate to location 2”.

…

As I walked Y/N to my car, I realised she disnt have her coat. She was shivering. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her.

“ Thanks” she said.

“ Good Job” I smiled at her. Dropping the menu to get close to her for the signal. Brilliant” I smiled.

“ You know you should smile more often Gibbs. It really looks good on you.”

“ Says the woman who forgot to smile in her year book photo” I chuckled.

“ So you did a background check on me” she laughed.

“ Well I needed to know who I am sending undercover. Plus I was curious . I wanted to know you, understand you better.” I confessed.

“ I was trying to portray the bold mysterious enigmatic look in that yearbook photo” she chuckled. “ You know typical teenage rebellion phase.” She laughed. “ I was a need but a rebel too, breaking rules , being a brat, resisting authority. In some sort of way I thought not smiling in my yearbook photo was an act of rebellion. I was a brat then, pretty mischievous. But my grades were really good. Plus I had this knack of avoiding suspicion, so didn’t get into trouble.”

“ You are still a brat.” I chuckled. “ It has worked Well for you though, helping you think out of the box.”

“ You have your fair share of out of the box thinking, disregard of protocol too, cowboy.” “ Yeah I looked you up too.”

I didn’t realise when I have gotten so close to her, her lips centimetres away from mine. It will be so easy to brush my lips against hers. She leaned in slightly. I leaned in too. Suddenly her phone rang.

“ Yeah , thanks Blake. I would look into the keynote speaker for the International Women’s Education Summit.” She said.

If only that stupid phone didn’t ring right now. I was so close to kissing her. I would have loved to hold her close to me, kissing her ,exploring her, feel her heartbeats against mine. Get a grip Marine.

…

Reader’s POV:

“ So how do you two meet?” “ Uhh Dating website, that’s a good cover.” Abby said.

Gibbs was standing behind me , bending down to look at the computer screen. His close presence made me feel butterflies in my stomach. “ Nope, find a better one” Gibbs said.

“ Maybe in a coffee shop, while we were getting coffee?” Gibbs continued.

“ Boring” Abby said.

“ Maybe at a bar. Two complete strangers. Fucked behind the alley. Had on and off casual sex. Then started dating.” I mused.

“ Wow , Hot.” Abby Exclaimed.

“ English Lit major here. I know how to write a good story. You should always be specific when you lie you know.” I chuckled.

“ That’s one of my rules too” Gibbs laughed. “ So who made the first move? How many times in the alleyway ?”

“ What?”

“ Specifics remember?”

“ I Will let you two work that out” Abby laughed.

…

We were going through our covers. We saw the lawyer being escorted out. Suddenly she took out the gun of an NCIS agent holding the entire squad room at gunpoint.

“ I will not go to prison” the lawyer said.

“Okay ,Okay ,we can talk” I said.

“ I will walk out from here, you will not follow me” she said. “ Get me that box of money and fake passports you confisticated now”

“ OK, Ok I said . I am bringing it.” Then looking at my shoes, I looked at Gibbs, a silent understanding passing between us.

I took the evidence box and approached her . Then jammed my foot on her, my stilleto shoes causing her real pain and she dropped her gun. Gibbs immediately slipped it away as Ziva tried to handcuff her.

“You bitch” she shouted at me, and she attacked Ziva, snatching her knife and throwing it at me. Gibbs immediately pulled me down on the floor , protecting me with him on top of me before Ziva subdued her. The knife however hit the window and a piece of glass cur my shoulder. I gasped at the pain.

Jethro’s POV:

I looked at Y/N. I saw the blood from the glass that had cut her shoulders.

I pulled her up. She looked shaken. I pulled her in a hug , holding her tight against my chest.

“ Get Ducky now”. I said to Kate.

“ You know Y/N it’s okay to say it hurts while getting stitches.” Ducky said. “ You don’t have to grit your teeth and put up a brave face.”

“ You gave me painkillers Ducky. Plus the Alcohol you made me chug helped me with the nerves, as you said.”

“ You gave her painkillers with alcohol Ducky?”

“ Well it helps with the nerves . Though I suggest she doesn’t drive today.” Ducky said.

“ I will take her home Ducky.”

Ducky finished doing her stitches. “ Well you can take her home now Jethro.”

“ Come Y/N , let me take you home.”

“ But I don’t want to go home. I wanna see the world” she pouted.

“ What painkillers making you loopy kid?” I chuckled. “ Come.” I said as I took her hand.

“ Ahh such a gentleman. You don’t have to be so kind. I won’t sue NCIS for the damages” she giggled. “ I am sorry about your jacket though. I can buy you another.”

“ It’s okay Y/N.”

She tiptoe on her feet ,suddenly brushing her lips against mine and softly sucking on it. “ Kind of wanted to do that all day long” she giggled.

I lost my self control then. I crashed her lips against her passionately. She gasped at the sensation and as she parted her lips I shoved my tongue inside her . I felt so close to her. She responded eagerly. As we broke for oxygen I looked into her eyes. “ I have wanted to do that all day along too”.I said . Her eyes reflected the desire I felt. I picked her up and carried her to my car. I buckled her seatbelt before driving.

“ That’s not the way to my home.” She said.

“ I am taking you to my place?”

“ To your bed” she giggled.

“ I would be lying if I said I don’t want you in my bed Y/N. You have no idea what has gone through my head from the morning, Ohh the things I want to do to you.” “ Well how drunk are you?”

“ Drunk enough to really have the nerves to go to bed with you.Not enough for you to think guily of taking advantage of me.” She said dazed.

“ Ohh Y/N I want to be with you tonight. But you have alcohol and painkillers in your system. I don’t want you to do anything you will regret in the morning.”

“ You don’t want me?”

I took her hand into mine placing it against my crotch. “ You feel the hardness Y/N . You did that. I want you so much Y/N. But it’s not fair to you. I would like to take you when you are fully sober.”

“ She rubbed her hands against my crotch. I did that .” She giggled. “ I would like to feel more of that hardness.”

My cock throbbed against my pants. “Y/N , you are making it difficult for me to concentrate on the road.”

“ Oops Sorry. She withdrew her hands and started biting her nails and sucking her thumbs.”

This girl is really gonna test my patience and my honour. I have to keep my self control control.

“ Don’t bite your nails. It’s a bad habit.”

As a response she stuck out her tongue at me, making me laugh.

We arrived at my place. I carried her to my bedroom , put her down on my bed. I gave her one of my hoodies to change into.

When I came to the room again after changing to a hoodie and sweatpants , I found her half asleep. I gently tucked her in, kissing her forehead and Patting her forehead.

“ I wish you would stay” she mumbled.

“ You really want me to?”

“ Only if you are comfortable”

“ Good. Cause I want to.” I said . Then I laid down beside her, pulling her close to me ,cuddling her as we both drifted off to sleep. The sensation of her against me really turned me on , but I also felt a comfort, a warmth I did not want to lose. Her touch was like a drug to me.

…

“ I woke up in the morning. Y/N laid in my arms fast asleep. I have never felt so much peace ,so much bliss, that I felt at that moment. Gently I nuzzles at her neck. “ I think I maybe falling in love with you” I whispered. Gently kissing her forehead, I got up.

I was rock hard and needed a cold shower. I willed my Dick to go down, but it had a mind of its own. I imagined Y/N’s mouth and fingers around my cock and stroked my Shaft. I thought of how it would feel to be inside her. I shot my load in my hand and floor. Then taking a cold shower , I went to cook breakfast.

“ Hi good morning” she said. “Smells delicious.”

I offered her some coffee. “ So how would you want your eggs? Runny or dry.”

“ None. Cause I think your pan’s on fire.”

“ Shoot fuck I said” putting it out.

We both ended up laughing together. At that moment I felt so whole. I moved towards her. Then holding her gaze I cupped her face before claiming her lips.

[copperbadge]

Okay but can the royal family be called to serve jury duty?

We were talking about this in comments briefly! I've been thinking about it since.

I think the discussion is predicated on the idea that Askazer-Shivadlakia even has trial by jury. France apparently only has jury trial for felony level crimes, while Italy doesn't use juries at all (they have a council of judges). Askazer-Shivadlakia has a number of cultures tugging on it, but given they speak English due to an occupation, probably they have a jury trial format of some kind. Perhaps with only five or nine jurors (Italian Judges Style) instead of twelve. In any case, let's assume they do.

Alanna and Jerry aren't elected or immediate family, they have paid staff positions -- although this made me think that Michaelis and Miranda offered Alanna the title of "princess" as a teen, because of her close relationship to them and lack of parents, although she probably didn't really need it, given her grandparents. Anyway, let's also put Jes in this category of "not royal", because they hold no official title or staff position but have a clear association. Michaelis and Noah are Royals but Michaelis is retired and Noah is appointed, so they have similar status to staff. Eddie, too, is "royal but not elected" and his main function is paid staff much like Al and Jerry. So really it's just Gregory who might legally be exempt. In the US, at least, elected officials at the federal level are. So let's presume that getting elected to king exempts you from jury service until you leave office.

Michaelis, Eddie, and Noah (once he turns eighteen) could be summoned to appear, but would immediately be disqualified from criminal cases because they're affiliated with the Crown and could be argued to have an unconscious bias. What we were discussing in comments was in part my thought that Michaelis, who became king (and thus disqualified) very young and ruled most of his life, would be rather excited for a novel civil service experience, and disappointed when he was dismissed.

I think pretty much any of the royal family except Gregory would be qualified to serve, and allowed to in a civil case (Jerry, Alanna, and Jes would also be fine in a criminal case). Jerry and Al are famous-ish as the local nobility, Jes is a famous journalist, and Michaelis, Noah, and Eddie are royals, but I did a bit of research and I guess celebrities aren't given any kind of special exemption usually. And it's canonical that the Shivadh find celebrities amusing at best, so I doubt their presence on a jury would even be particularly disruptive. So yeah, I could see the royal family serving jury duty.

But my brain is a bit sidelong, so while it would be entertaining to write that story, I was thinking more about...hearings, court protocols, the hierarchical structure of the courtroom, and the weird way in which everyone in a court is pushed into a very specific role. I'll probably write more about that in a general sense later, but where it took me was the idea that Gregory, as a king who has a parliament he has to obey but also certain specific unilateral power, might hold something like a quarterly "King's Boon" session ala the Big Block Of Cheese Day from the West Wing.

Some period of time, every few months, he basically holds open office and meets with people who are struggling to get heard in other ways -- people who want to suggest new laws, or want state funding for something, or need help untangling some bureaucratic issue. One person might have an idea for a law but not the legal training to write it up; Gregory might put them in touch with Palace legal, who can help them draft it for presentation to Parliament. Someone else might be having trouble with some kind of bank issue, Gregory can call up the bank and be like "Hey I'm the king and I'm here with one of your clients, let's get this solved before I audit you." When the recording studio collapses at the start of Infinite Jes and Michaelis says "I'm going to have a word with the government about building inspections", if he wasn't the former king he might take that kind of issue to the King's Boon. Two ordinary people who are arguing about some issue but don't want to take it to the courts might ask Gregory to decide the matter for them. Could be who owns the tree in their mutual front yard, could be some kind of philosophical argument they've got a bet about and they're willing to let Gregory rule on it (this is also very Talmudic, the idea of finding a Sage to figure your shit out for you).

And the nice thing is, much like in the West Wing, this is something Royals and palace staff would participate in -- so when Michaelis was king, he and Miranda would both participate (as would Eitan, as Well Connected Nobility); eventually Gregory as prince and then crown prince would participate as part of his training. It's basically "you, too, have a friend in high places" week in the Palace.

So you've got, say, King's Boon Week, where you get a number, show up on your appointed day, and hang out in the ballroom, which has been converted to a waiting room with nice chairs and snacks (presumably people who can't make it in person can get a Zoom call set up). You wait to be called, and you might meet with Gregory, but you also might meet with Eddie, Michaelis, Alanna, or Jerry. Noah would also participate but for a few years he'd be sitting in with Michaelis as training. Eddie would sit in with Gregory for a year or so after officially becoming King Consort, until he had a more thorough grasp of things. I have a feeling Jes would spend the time circulating and interviewing people for a quarterly podcast. :D

That just seems like a cool thing that is possible to achieve given the size and informality of the country, and would make I think potentially a more interesting story.

I mean. Just imagine. You're having trouble getting the permits all in order for the nightclub you want to open, and you're hoping to get Lady Alanna because you know she's got every bureaucratic "in" it's possible to have. But you groan a bit because you draw Duke Gerald, who...sure he's nice, but you've heard he's a daft scatterbrain. But then you meet with him and he goes through your business plan and is like "This is really solid. Let me make a call," and while you're gaping at him he calls a friend in Legal, gets your paperwork in order, phones a guy he knows who has a vacant building that you can lease on the cheap for the first year or two, and then looks you dead in the eye and says, "Do you need investors? I'd take a thirty percent stake in this," and you wander back into the waiting room, dazed, to inform your business partner that you've struck a deal for each of you to sell 15% of the nightclub to His Grace the Duke of Shivadlakia.

Now THAT'S a fun story. :D

(Eddie is like "Just herd anyone who wants to open a restaurant into my office," and the quality of the food in Fons-Askaz, already pretty good, shoots up a notch that year.)

[akkivee]

my hypster magazine finally came in the mail lmao and man the special feature talking about how the world is coping without mics is very interesting??? like:

crime as a whole is at an all time high

within ikebukuro, the police are doing fck all about it so the bb have volunteered their services to making the civilians feel safe

ichiro’s been a mediator within more casual disputes, expressing his desire to talk things thru if possible, jiro’s got his whole high school as a neighbourhood watch and saburo’s set up a huge surveillance system to keep watch

in yokohama, the sea port has been particularly targeted and the report says the police and yakuza have teamed up to protect the flow of commerce. katengumi has stepped up to protect the territory and rio is keeping watch via satellite images and drones

in shibuya, dice complains of disruptions in gambling dens and the lack of real gambling has dulled his senses lol. he’s trying to compensate by making his own gambling game lol and he hasn’t been able to pay his phone bill due to lack of funds so he hasn’t been able to talk to ramuda or gentaro

curiously, neither of those two were mentioned in the article, save for dice using the section to try to reach out to them

in shinjuku, the day is desolate and the night scene is busier than ever. doppo’s company has been particularly hit by logistics nightmares as they’re haemorrhaging money due to lost medical equipment. (doppo’s boss has been accusing him of stealing funds and doppo claps back asking what exactly has he been managing currently lol)

shinjuku central hospital has been at full capacity with patients due to the inability to fend off armed criminals. fragrance has seen a significant uptick in patrons

in osaka, businesses have taken a sharp turn towards maliciousness, with scams at an all time high. sasara and rosho advise not to go out at night alone, and rosho, as a teacher, further explains that adults have a duty to protect minors, especially as a person who has been affected by scams in the past. neither sasara nor rosho have heard from rei in a long while, stating dh is on hiatus because of it

in nagoya, petty crimes are up because there seems to be a restlessness amongst them without the mics giving the populace the power to stand out. hitoya himself watched a dude climb up nagoya castle literally for the memes. the court of law has been barren as of late so nobody is being tried for crimes but he believes justice will prevail in due time

kuukou and jyushi have taken up patrolling nagoya in order to persuade others into not doing crimes and all three of them still practice rap battling together

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 11: Bankruptcy

So. Daniel Säure owns the majority of Morning Glory Corporation. And by extension, the majority of all the businesses that Morning Glory owns.

But unlike the C.E.O. of Morning Glory, he’s allowed himself to become the face of the company. The president.

In the United States, corporations have this thing called fiduciary responsibility toward their stakeholders. Which means that they have to, above all else, make profits for their stakeholders’ investments. The corporation literally, legally owes them returns.

There are a number of things those stakeholders can do if the company fails to fulfill its duties.

And this is one of the biggest reasons why business in the U.S. is so fucked up. Or so I’m told by certain regulars of the coffee shop.

I’ve tried looking it up, but it’s just not my special interest. I have trouble focusing on and understanding the articles on the subject.

But it seems to be a good explanation for what’s happening.

Because, things happen to the stocks of a company when its public facing leader is seen terrorizing an entire city and threatening to crush sections of it with his enormous, terrifying bulk. His window shattering supersonic screams in the middle of the night didn’t seem to help his case much, either.

And it wasn’t just that one night that it happened.

I think we did manage to make him desperately angry. Insulted. Not me. We. I set out to do it, but wow has everyone else really done the work.

And as his own stocks start plummeting, and he’s seeing what he’s doing to himself, he’s lashed out more wildly.

Last night, we got to see what the gaming nerds call his breath weapon. There really isn’t a better term for it.

To make some kind of a point, around midnight, after strafing my building again, and setting off another one of Chapman’s traps, he hit the bay with a beam of ultraviolet light. It created a huge plume of scalding steam, and probably wasn’t great for life in the bay.

Word is, it blinded a bunch of people, and everyone is talking class action lawsuit or even criminal charges. Though no one knows how to bring him to court.

Säure has become a dangerous dragon.

He’s a whole different class of monster, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

At some point, he’s going to aim that beam of deadly light at the city itself.

But, for some reason, so far, he hasn’t.

Still, someone’s going to have to do something about it.

But, as a side effect, people are starting to rally around the idea that we neighborhood dragons are preferable in comparison. Maybe even beneficial, and with the hope we can protect the city.

I don’t know about that anymore. But it is a nice thing to hear every now and then.

—

“Nah,” Rhoda says. “That ‘breath weapon’ of his is bullshit.”

It’s late Sunday morning, the 29th of September.

We’re having mimosas and ham and egg somethings at the Sanctum, a weird hybrid Perisian/New Orleans psuedo-Catholic themed goth gay club on Wallace and Halley, the actual center of my territory. They’re open for gay brunch every Sunday, with half off mimosas if you flash them your gay card. A card that they give to anyone who asks for it. There’s no gatekeeping, it’s just a promotional joke and a bit of a dare.

And by “we”, I mean Nathan, Kimberly, Chapman, Rhoda, and I. 

Ptarmigan is missing. None of us have seen her since the night she last spoke to Rhoda. And I wonder if she’s doing something with Wentin, because I haven’t heard from it, either.

The others of my family are off doing their own things. We’re just who had the time and energy to meet here.

“Well,” Nathan says. “Terrifying deadly bullshit he could use to fry us all any time he wants.”

“Nope,” Rhoda says, bringing her mimosa to her lips. “Just bullshit. And I’m having none of it.”

I look directly at her and she meets both my eyes and keeps drinking, a smirk on her lips.

Chapman notices this, I can see, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’d feel better if he wasn’t out there,” Nathan says. “But, at least, we’re not alone in that.”

I have noticed, the general tension in Fairport now feels a lot like the later Cold War fear of nuclear holocaust that was instilled in me as a child by my family.

I know a lot of people didn’t experience it, but it was drilled into me. I was reminded time and again that my parents did the whole duck and cover thing, and then they’d talk about all the times the world came to the brink of self destruction. And, when I looked into it myself, later, when I had the internet and the resources and will to do so, I found they weren’t lying. They’d just underestimated the danger.

This feels like that.

But people go about their business and are mostly cheerful to each other, at least superficially, as is the habit of the typical Pacific Northwesterner.

I think Rhoda is the most relaxed of anyone in the county, and I might be the second most relaxed. And, looking at Chapman now, I may have found the third.

Unless Ptarmigan is still in the county, then all bets are off.

“Drink your mimosa, Nathan,” Kimberly says. “You need your vitamins, old man.”

“Heel,” Nathan says to her through a smirk, and then looks away and drinks his mimosa.

Kimberly throws a balled up napkin at him.

“Bad girl.”

“Woof.”

Chapman really does want to say something though, and chooses, “What did Ptarmigan say when she last saw you?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Rhoda says and pops a ham and egg bite into her mouth.

I tilt my head at Chapman and then decide to work on a promise I’d made over a month ago.

I tap my tablet several times in quick succession and then hit talk, “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

I listen to it carefully and then hit it again.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” my tablet says.

Then I look at Chapman and say, “Shit.” In my voice.

“That’s some good shit,” Kimberly says, and Nathan throws the rolled up napkin back at her.

Chapman gives me a look and says, “I don’t think that’s what she said.”

I bob my head and type, “She didn’t. She did say, ‘Holy Jesus fuck, Chapman.’”

“What? Why?”

“Your trap,” I respond.

“OK, that’s fair.”

Rhoda sighs, “Chapman.”

“Yes?” the Physicist asks.

“You’re bullshit, too,” Rhoda says. “And so is Ptarmigan.” Then she points. “But because Meg likes you, I’m gonna tolerate you. In fact, you and Meg can keep working on Säure, just so long as Meg doesn’t get hurt.”

Chapman furrows hir brows in confusion, and Kimberly catches on that something’s happening.

“Rhoda? What’s up?” Kimberly asks.

Rhoda chuckles and smirks and sips her drink.

Chapman starts to look downright unsettled, and asks, “May I? Would anyone object if I scanned the general situation in Fairport right now?”

A month ago, sie wouldn’t have said anything so blatant out in the open. Things have seriously changed. Sie has decided hir vow is defunct.

“As long as it doesn’t interrupt me or my thoughts, go ahead,” Rhoda says. “Actually. I’m very curious about the results, so please tell me.”

I glance back and forth between them. It feels a little bit like a showdown.

“OK,” Chapman says and looks at Rhoda briefly through hir brow before closing hir eyes and touching scan tattoos together.

There’s hir shift. It’s a big one, too. I feel it from tip of my snout to end of my tail. And, once again, it comes from the center of Chapman’s chest.

And then Chapman opens hir eyes and looks at Rhoda with new consideration, blinking hir eyes a few times.

“Yes?” Rhoda says.

“You’re a Bellwether,” sie says.

“What does that mean?” Rhoda prompts hir.

“Well,” Chapman says, glancing at each of the rest of us. “In the sense that I use the word, not really its original meaning, everything chaotic, everything that’s fibrillating around you within a certain radius, is being influenced by you specifically. You’re like the eye of the storm. It’s… impressive? Really dangerous if you want it to be.”

“Hm.”

“What?” Kimberly asks.

“What’s going on?” Nathan asks, finally catching up to the conversation.

“I don’t know what has happened,” Chapman says. “I can probably guess, but I didn’t see it. All I’m seeing is what’s happening now. But, for the moment, Nathan, we’re safe because Rhoda wants to be safe. And if there were a flock of birds flying by right now, she could probably wave her hand and they’d change direction.”

“Hm,” Rhoda makes that noise again. It’s sort of a cross between a hum, a grunt, a laugh, and a sob. Quiet, but it jerks her body.

I lean over and bump her shoulder softly with my brow. It’s a thing I’ve started doing in the past couple of days. She seems to appreciate it. Sometimes she’ll reach up and put her hand on my nose or the back of my skull for a moment. Which usually makes me want to push into her hand a little harder.

This time she just says, “Thank you, Meg.”

“So, are you saying that she’s keeping Säure from nuking us somehow?” Nathan asks.

“Very possibly,” Chapman says. “Along with a whole bunch of other consequences.”

“Well, I mean, I guess that’s a relief,” Nathan says. “Thank you, Rhoda. If you’re doing that.”

“I have to say,” Rhoda says. “I’m doing it for me, if I’m doing it at all. But you are absolutely welcome. Everyone should get to be safe.”

“What’s the radius?” Kimberly asks.

Chapman purses hir lips and looks around, squinting at the sky, then says, “That’s fuzzy. I think it depends on just what you’re talking about. For instance, obviously Säure was able to fry the bay.”

“And that was bullshit, and he won’t be doing that again,” Rhoda says.

“And he won’t be doing that again,” Chapman agrees.

“How long is it going to last?” Kimberly puts her mimosa down on the table and turns to look more fully at Chapman.

Chapman shrugs and says, “I haven’t seen this before. I can only tell you what it is from my own perspective as the Physicist. I’m sure Ptarmigan has other words for it. So, there’s no precedent in the entire history of the Earth. Which isn’t a surprise, because we’ve been feeling that way about the dracomorphosis. But I think I can hazard a guess by the rate of decay I saw.”

“Yeah?”

“Unless something else happens to change it all,” Chapman says. “Rhoda’s remaining lifetime. Which, if she decides that her own death is bullshit, I’m guessing could be quite a while.”

“Woah.”

“All I want is to live in a world that makes sense to me,” Rhoda says. It’s been a morning refrain for her for the past few days.

“And dragons make sense?” Nathan asks as gently as he can.

“I think I want them to,” Rhoda says. “But I don’t know that I have a say in that matter. I don’t know about any of this. But I’ll take it if it’s working.”

I bonk her shoulder again, and she pats my nose.

Then I grab and swallow a ham and egg bite. Then I drink from my bowl of mimosa that’s at my feet. The others went in on getting that for me, since I’ve spent so much of my paltry income this month.

Oh, and I did get my card back from Megan the server.

The bartender here seemed absolutely tickled to serve me a salad bowl of orange juice and alcohol. He seemed to need something to be tickled about, too. The municipal worry has affected him as much as anyone else.

I reach up to my tablet again and say, “Something need done about Säure, tho. Scaring people. Could hurt others elsewhere.”

“Can he?” Kimberly asks.

Chapman shrugs and looks at Rhoda.

“Don’t look at me, spirit. This is all your magic,” Rhoda says.

“It really isn’t,” Chapman says. “It’s currently yours. But I can help you figure it out.”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t want that responsibility,” Rhoda says. “I want to live my life. And with other people who want to live theirs. But like I said. You and Meg can work on Säure, so long as she keeps coming home.”

Chapman and I look at each other.

“How can I help?” Kimberly asks.

“Who, girl. Down,” Nathan says, eyes a little wide.

Kimberly throws the balled up napkin back at him without looking his way.

Chapman looks at her and considers the question, “Well, I think we’ve all been doing pretty well by Meg and Rhoda here already. We’ve survived the chaos of the first month of dracomorphosis, and we’ve survived the tantrums of the local billionaire. I think we start by continuing to do that.”

“Yeah?”

“But, if you want, and you have the time, you can help me research some things,” Chapman says. “Do you like digging around in the library and making the internet give you treats?”

Kimberly squints in disbelief and opens her mouth part way before smirking and laughing and saying, “Yeah. OK. I’m your girl for that.”

“Good girl,” Nathan says.

“Please stop,” Kimberly tells him.

“Sorry. I will,” he tilts his head toward her. Then he smirks impishly and says, “It’s your lead now.”

“Look,” she says to him. “The day I get to be a real live werepoodle, I’m going to hump your leg in public.”

“Ok. Uncle. Uncle for you. I’m done. Seriously,” he says.

“Thank you.”

“You wouldn’t really do that, would you?” he asks.

“Not without your consent,” she shoots back.

He just nods, and she smiles briefly at him.

Coworkers.

This makes me think of another thing, so I type one word, “Molly.”

“Huh?” Rhoda perks up a bit, and looks halfway my direction.

“How can I make sure Molly is OK? Ethically,” I ask with more care.

“Who’s Molly?” Kimberly asks.

“Oh,” Rhoda says, leaning onto the table. “Hm.” She looks at me, then at the others. “She’s a girl who met Meghan the first time she was shedding. Only, Meg got the impression that Molly was her chosen name, and that she might also be a dragon. Or, Molly said she wished she was like Meg.”

I bow my head briefly.

“How old is she?” Nathan asks, leaning forward in interest himself.

Rhoda looks at me.

“Ten or twelve. Don’t know,” I respond.

“Did you meet her parents?” he asks.

“No,” I say.

“That’s tricky,” he says. “For your legal safety, you should stay away. She’s not your responsibility, and her parents could get protective quick.”

“It really sucks,” Kimberly says. “But, yeah. Even if we were just talking about being trans, between you and her. The best thing you can do is do social work and activism and help the rest of us try to make the world better for her. But you’ve gotta look out for yourself, or you can’t do that. This world is a minefield.”

“Add in the dragon thing,” Nathan says, “and who knows how it’ll go?”

“I may have made Meghan promise me something,” Rhoda says.

“Yeah?” Nathan prompts her.

“To make sure Molly gets what she needs,” she replies. “I was distressed and in my way about my own losses. And my beef with the universe is only growing, too, but that’s between me and it now. But, I think I’d ask it again, even now. I know it’s a tall order and a tough one. But if her parents can’t accept her being trans or being a dragon, that needs to change. For the sake of her life.”

“Can you make that change?” Kimberly asks.

Rhoda shrugs and shakes her head. “I can say what I want, but I can’t make it happen.” Then she spears me with a squinty look from her sparkling eyes, and says, “She’s queen, not me.”

I bonk my head against the table, jostling everyone’s drinks but not quite spilling them.

—

If Säure and Morning Glory’s spiral continues as it is, there could be bankruptcy in their future. Either his or the company’s, or both.

Usually, on paper, that would seem unlikely. Säure’s base of wealth, invested in Pacific Northwest land holdings as it is, should be pretty robust.

But even that corner of the stock market is still a complex system and in a constant state of chaos.

And Säure’s feeling like he’s between a rock and a hard place. Being a building sized dragon is really inconvenient for him and his business. And that alone is such a challenge to keeping things stable, apparently.

But it looks like he’s also got the attention of the Bellwether of the dracomorphosis, and he lives a bit too close to her, too.

And she wants to see him go down.

So, bankruptcy for a billionaire is probably a little different than it is for a commoner, one of us plebes. But, generally, your remaining assets get divided up by the court to pay off your debts and then you are declared free of them. You’re supposed to end up free of both assets and debts, so you can start again.

So, the question we’re all faced with now is, what does a giant UV laser breathing dragon do when he’s no longer hamstrung by his own hoard?

And can the Bellwether’s influence still affect him at that point, when he’s free of some of the bigger complex systems that currently grip him?

Neither Chapman nor Rhoda seem certain of that.

And there’s sort of a countdown to that point.

A fuzzy countdown of indeterminate time.

Some of us wonder if Rhoda could just end Säure somehow, maybe by waving her hand and causing the storm around her to swallow him up in some way. Whatever that might mean.

But she just doesn’t want to do it.

Maybe she doesn’t want to prove to herself that she has that much power. Maybe she doesn’t want to become that kind of being. And I, for one, can absolutely respect that.

So, that leaves Chapman and I, and the rest of us, floundering about trying to think of something else.

And so, one day, after a short time of enjoying my new routines and respite in Rhoda’s apartment, I ask Chapman about that collaborative project Ptarmigan had proposed.

Maybe not the specific project, but the idea of doing a collaboration with her at all.

What could they do if they worked on something together that was big?

Could they focus it on Säure?

We’re sitting outside the coffee shop, and when I ask my question, Chapman stares at me for a long time afterward without saying anything.

[tippedarrows]

Oh yeah, Soren, my precious ginger boy! Love him so much (but Gabriel though..).

Honestly in my AU Soren take place like "the Philosophy". It's like.. complicated, but a guess I can ramble a bit one time-

So, basically every member of the Order of the Stone had their own "special" place, even Ivor.

Gabriel, the Warrior, was doing lots of job keeping all the cities and villages safe. He basically was court system itself. Keeping track of crimes, protecting people and stuff.

Magnus, the rogue, probably couldn't do much, right! NOPE, he has control of greifers and that's what we call power. In really bad cases he was a "back up" plan, sending his people to help Gabriel to deal with criminals or illagers. You could call him the Army.

Then there's Ellegaard the redstone Engineer and Redstonia. Smart people, smart stuff. All the trading and monetary transactions went through Redstonia. Banks, documents, all the smart and important stuff.

Soren the Architect. I like to imagine that he basically built lots of libraries and temples in the mountains and kept different types of books there, providing people the access to ancient knowledge. There are people, monks, who lives there and help people to understand their way of life.

Finally! Ivor the Brewer. He lives around swamps, he makes potions, he.. teaches people to heal other people? Yeah! Nearby villages produce the best doctors and brewers. The medicine.

What we have so far? Justice, strength, trading, philosophy and medicine. It's honestly makes MC:SM world more alive AND provides a good reason for people to be upset over Order's lies. My English is so bad that I can't explain things the way I want, but I really hope you got the point here, hahaha

- Mr. C

Oh hoooooo... I think I've heard a little bit about this au somewhere... ;) winky face!!!!

Hah!!!

My screen words can comprehend it but that is REALLY WELL THOUGHT OUT!!! I LOVE THIS SO FAR! That makes so much sense - and not to mention, in the concept art for MCSM there's an undestroyed Order Temple. I always wondered just HOW popular they were... with your explanations, it really makes the betrayal of the lie SO much more impactful ....

[ihavemanyhusbands]

a different one? okay!

So reader and hannibal are in a pre established relationship (reader knows everything and is happy to help cook) but they feel somethings missing, introducing will who gets aggressivly courted by both of them and thinks he has to choose who he wants but he doesn't, will is somewhat overstimmed/overwhelmed at being the focus of both of them but he loves it

-cat

GOD YES YES YES YES THANK YOU THIS IS JUST SOOOO PERFECT MWAAAA 😘🥹❤️ pls enjoy this was such a delight to write!!!

(thinking this might also go on my AO3 and potentially have a pt 2 🙏🏽😵‍💫)

Minors DNI. Lmk if there’s any warnings I should add!

“Beautiful choice, my love,” Hannibal said as you clipped on the pearl earrings that he’d bought you on a trip to Vienna.

You smiled, holding your hair up and presenting your throat so he could clip a matching pearl necklace around it for you.

“Pairs well with the dress, doesn’t it?” You asked, knowing well he loved you in silk, especially when so much of your back was exposed.

He let his amber eyes rove over you appraisingly, smiling in approval. It was the kind of look that never failed to spark heat inside of you. His fingers ghosted down your spine, and you suppressed a shiver.

“You look ravishing. How could anyone resist a temptation such as you?”

“Hmm, same goes for you, mon cher,” you said, kissing his cheek before turning back to the mirror to make sure everything was in place.

You glanced over at your husband’s reflection as he tried to tie his favorite crimson tie as neatly as possible. You sensed he might be a little nervous, which was pretty rare. Still, you understood why, given you were a little jittery yourself.

That night, you and Hannibal would be hosting a special dinner for a very special guest.

You’d heard plenty about Will Graham – stories of his unique brilliance, his quick wit, and all of his achievements in criminal psychology. More importantly, the flickers of darkness that sometimes broke through his cool demeanor. He had a lot of promise, your husband assured you. It would just require some thorough unraveling.

Seldom was Hannibal truly intrigued by someone, so that only made you more curious about him. The two of you had been happily married for some time now, but neither had ever been opposed to broadening your horizons. Tricky thing was, no one had really been worthy of your interest… until now.

“Here, let me take care of that,” you offered, your hands replacing his. “Is there anything I should expect from tonight?”

“Yet to be seen,” he said, watching your deft fingers at work. “You know you have free rein, right?”

You tilted your head to one side, smoothing his perfectly knotted tie. “Has it ever been any other way? For either of us?”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

A mere half hour later, the doorbell rang. You went to get the wine from the kitchen as Hannibal went to open the door. You could hear the deep timbre of Will’s voice as they approached the dining room, tone low and even.

You emerged from the kitchen moments later. The table was already set, a delectable assortment of food awaiting you. But you felt a different sort of hunger stir at the sight of Will Graham.

He was utterly gorgeous, with all knowing blue eyes, a chiseled jaw and a charming mess of dark brown curls you immediately wanted to run your fingers through. He reminded you of a marble statue, carved with the patient, loving hand of the finest artist.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, taking you in as well. Hannibal clocked this too, of course, the ghost of a smirk on his handsome face.

“Will, I’d like you to meet my lovely wife,” Hannibal said as you handed him the wine bottle.

You extended a hand towards him, which he took.

“Pleasure, Mrs. Lecter. I’ve heard much about you,” Will said, pleasantly surprising you with a small smile. He seemed too serious for his own good otherwise, and it gave you a little hope of changing that.

You and Hannibal shared a look, and you smiled as well. “Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Graham. I, too, have heard wonderful things.”

“Oh? Hannibal speaks highly of me?” Will arched a brow, eyes flicking over to your husband.

“Don’t seem so surprised, Will,” Hannibal said as he opened the wine bottle. “Have I not praised you in person as well?”

Will pulled out your chair for you, his eyes now snagging on all the exposed skin of your back. He seemed not to know how to respond to Hannibal’s words, much less his compliments.

“Tell us, Mr. Graham,” you prompted as you sat down, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” he said, taking his seat across from you. “And you can call me Will.”

“Marvelous. Then you can call me by name, too.”

Hannibal served the two of you before serving himself. The three of you clinked glasses in a toast before digging into the food.

You and Hannibal had made Osso Bucco with saffron-scented risotto, one of your favorite dishes. Both of you covertly watched Will for his reaction.

Usually, he was pretty stoic, the changes in his expression very subtle. On his first bite, he exhaled deeply, his eyes closing.

“This is delicious,” he said. “The meat is so tender.”

“You can thank my wife for such an excellent cut. I’ve yet to meet a finer butcher,” Hannibal beamed proudly at you. “I taught her everything myself.”

Will looked mildly impressed, taking a sip of red wine. “And you enjoy it? It can be a rather violent trade.”

You lowered your eyes demurely, a coquettish smile pulling at your lips. “Of course I do. I am no stranger to violence, Will. I spent my summers at my grandparents’ pig farm growing up.”

“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration sometime?” Hannibal chimed in with a mischievous smirk you had the urge to kiss.

“It would be an honor, Mrs. Lecter,” Will said, his gaze never leaving you. “You and your husband have kept me well fed.”

“It’s the least we can do. You are Hannibal’s closest friend, after all,” you said. “Though perhaps you’d like a cooking lesson or two?”

“How could I ever decline such a generous offer?”

“Good,” Hannibal said. “My kitchen is always open to friends, as you know.”

Will shifted in his seat, unused to such attention, especially from two people at once. That didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying it, though. He looked at you both in turn, a shadow crossing his features momentarily. You understood how you must have seemed in that moment – two hungry wolves cornering a shuddering lamb. Or perhaps you were recognizing another wolf in sheep’s clothing.

After dinner, the three of you moved to the living room for a nice chat in front of the fireplace. You sat on the chaise, crossing your legs. Through the slit in your dress, Will caught a glimpse of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh.

You trailed his gaze, unsheathing it and offering it to him hilt first. His nostrils flared at your boldness, lips thinning a little.

“His wedding gift to me,” you said, smiling adoringly at your husband. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Will nodded, seeing his reflection on the fine blade. “Fitting of his bride.”

“You may use it whenever you like.” There was a not-so-subtle implication in your tone and in the dark gleam in your eye that made his cheeks color just barely.

Oh, you must have really gotten to him then. Hannibal’s smirk at the realization was positively feline, especially when Will looked to him as if for confirmation – or perhaps permission?

“Beauty is meant to be shared, isn’t it?” Hannibal said. “You know that better than most, Will.”

The beautiful man before you swallowed hard once more, squirming deliciously in his seat. His want was a living thing, crackling like fire beneath his skin. The best part was not that it was reciprocated, but that he wouldn’t have to choose between the two of you.

He recognized this as a gift.

“Yes, so you’ve shown me.” He handed the dagger back to you, his palm covering yours in what seemed like a promise. “I might just have to find the occasion for it. Perhaps Hannibal could give me some pointers.”

His restraint was admirable, truly. You couldn’t wait to unveil what was hiding under all that control. Your hunger yawned further open, reflected in your eyes. Hannibal squeezed your shoulder, and you rested your head against his arm.

“My, well something tells me we will all get along just splendidly.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ian Millhiser at Vox:

On Thursday, the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in Trump v. United States, the case where former President Donald Trump claims that he is immune from prosecution for any “official acts” that he committed while in office. It is, frankly, very difficult to care about this case or to spend mental energy teasing out what the justices may say in their opinions. That’s because Trump has already won.

Trump’s arguments in this case are exceedingly weak, and it is unlikely that even this Supreme Court, with its 6-3 Republican supermajority, will hold that Trump was allowed to do crimes while he was president. Trump’s immunity argument is so broad that his lawyer told a lower court that it would apply even if he ordered the military to kill one of his rivals. (Though Trump does concede that he could be prosecuted if he were first impeached and convicted.) But this case was never actually about whether the Constitution allows a sitting president to avoid prosecution if he uses the powers of the presidency to commit crimes. Trump’s goal is not to win an improbable Supreme Court order holding that he can assassinate his political adversaries. It is to delay his criminal trial for attempting to overturn President Joe Biden’s victory in the 2020 election for as long as possible — and ideally, from Trump’s perspective, until after the 2024 election.

And the Supreme Court has been his willing patsy. As a general rule, federal courts only permit one court to have jurisdiction over a case at a time. So once Trump appealed trial Judge Tanya Chutkan’s ruling that, no, presidents are not allowed to do crimes, Chutkan lost her authority to move forward with Trump’s criminal trial until after that appeal was resolved. Special prosecutor Jack Smith understands this problem as well as anyone, which is why he wanted the Supreme Court to bypass an intermediate appeals court and rule immediately on Trump’s immunity claim last December. The justices denied that request. After the appeals court ruled, they also denied Smith’s request to resolve the case on an much more expedited schedule.

[...]

The legal arguments in the Trump v. US case, explained in case anyone actually cares

Trump’s lawyers seek to blur the line between civil lawsuits — the president actually is immune from being sued for official actions taken while in office — and criminal prosecutions. Under the Supreme Court’s precedents, all government officials, from a rookie beat cop all the way up to the president, enjoy some degree of immunity from federal lawsuits filed by private citizens. If you follow debates about police reform, you’ve no doubt heard the term “qualified immunity.” This is a legal doctrine that often allows police officers (and most other government officials) to avoid liability when they violate a private citizen’s rights. As the Supreme Court held in Harlow v. Fitzgerald (1982), “government officials performing discretionary functions, generally are shielded from liability for civil damages insofar as their conduct does not violate clearly established statutory or constitutional rights of which a reasonable person would have known.”

The purpose of this immunity is to protect government officials from the kind of liability that might deter them from performing their jobs well. Harlow argued that qualified immunity ensures that the stresses of litigation won’t divert “official energy from pressing public issues.” It prevents lawsuits from deterring “able citizens from acceptance of public office.” And the Court in Harlow also warned about “the danger that fear of being sued will ‘dampen the ardor of all but the most resolute, or the most irresponsible [public officials], in the unflinching discharge of their duties.’” Yet, while qualified immunity often prevents civil lawsuits against police and other government officials from moving forward, it’s never been understood as a shield against criminal prosecution. Just ask Derek Chauvin, the police officer convicted of murdering George Floyd. The Supreme Court has also ruled that a short list of government officials — prosecutors, judges, and the president — have “absolute immunity” from civil suits. This is because people who hold these three jobs are unusually vulnerable to harassment suits filed by private litigants. Prosecutors perform duties that require them to antagonize potential litigants: criminal defendants. And judges’ duties necessarily require them to rule in favor of some parties and against others — who might then turn around and sue the judge.

[...]

The best defense of the Supreme Court’s behavior in this case

The Court’s decision to delay Trump’s trial for months, rather than expediting this case as Smith requested, cannot be defended. That said, in an op-ed published in the New York Times shortly after the Supreme Court decided to delay Trump’s trial, University of Texas law professor Lee Kovarsky made the strongest possible argument for giving the justices at least some time to come up with a nuanced approach to the question of whether a former president is sometimes immune from criminal prosecution.

Trump, Kovarsky argues, should not be given immunity from prosecution for attempting to overturn an election. But he warns that “American democracy is entering a perilous period of extreme polarization — one in which less malfeasant presidents may face frivolous, politicized prosecutions when they leave office.” For this reason, Kovarsky argues that “the Supreme Court should seize this opportunity to develop a narrow presidential immunity in criminal cases” that would prevent a future president from, say, prosecuting President Biden for the crime of being a Democrat. The problem with this argument, however, is that even if the current Supreme Court could come up with a legal framework that would allow Smith’s prosecution of Trump to move forward, while also screening out any future case where a president was prosecuted for improper reasons, there’s no reason to think that a future Supreme Court would hew to this framework. Kovarsky is arguing that the Court should use the Trump case to establish a precedent that can guide its future decisions. A precedent like Roe v. Wade. Or like Lemon v. Kurtzman. Or like Regents of the University of California v. Bakke. Or like United States v. Miller. Or like any other precedent that this Supreme Court has tossed out after that decision fell out of favor with the Republican Party.

Donald Trump won the delay battle in Trump v. United States, even as the court hasn't issued a ruling yet on whether or not he has total presidential immunity.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Cathy Wilcox, Sydney Morning Herald

* * * *

GOP in full panic mode.

June 6, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

Republicans are scared. They understand that Trump's conviction for election interference is a devastating blow that threatens their prospects in November. If they lose—and they should—their eight-year delirium will come crashing to an end like a bad acid trip. MAGA extremism will not recede entirely, but its high-water mark will be in the past.

That prospect frightens MAGA to its core because they understand they have no vision, no organizing principles, no plan other than revenge—Trump's revenge to be exacted in a second term. If they lose that dark animus, the GOP’s reason for existence evaporates.

The surest sign of the GOP’s panic is the apoplectic rage that characterizes the ugly threats of Republican officials and surrogates after the guilty verdicts. They have lost their collective minds and their grip on reality, history, humanity, decency, and rationality. Their threats are a sign of weakness—not strength! Like the threats of schoolyard bullies everywhere, they emerge from deep-seated fear and insecurity; they are designed to conceal the underlying panic of imposters worried they will be found out for who they really are.

Still, Trump and his surrogates' parade of threats and lawless actions is difficult to bear—especially when they pile upon one another as they did on Wednesday. But as we review those actions, remember that they are signs of desperation and fear by a party on the run. All it took to put the GOP into full panic mode was a verdict by twelve randomly selected citizens who heard the truth about Trump's corruption.

We should not dismiss the revenge fantasies of the Convicted Felon and his pathetic homunculi. But we must keep them in perspective. For all the wild talk about retribution, House Republicans could not impeach Joe Biden despite holding control of the House for the last two years. And after a four-year investigation of Hunter Biden, the best (or worst?) the Trump-appointed special counsel could do was allege that Hunter denied he was an addict on a standard form gun purchase application and paid four years of taxes late.

So, we should take the Convicted Felon’s threats seriously, but we should recognize that MAGA has a dismal track record of delivering on their revenge fantasies.

With that preface, let’s look at the various ways that MAGA extremists are seeking to protect Convicted Felon Trump after 34-guilty verdicts.

Speaker Mike Johnson floated the idea of defunding special counsel Jack Smith, something he rejected in early May (before the guilty verdicts).

Senate Republicans have signed a letter vowing not to cooperate on any legislation that does not directly relate to public safety.

Convicted Felon Trump said that “it’s very possible that it’s gonna have to happen”—referring to locking up his political enemies.

Steve Bannon—a surrogate of the Convicted Felon—said that District Attorney Alvin Brag “should be—and will be—jailed.”

Bannon also said that “media allies” of Biden should be “investigated.”

The Felon’s architect of the Muslim ban—Steven Miller—asked, “Is every House committee controlled by Republicans using its subpoena power in every way it needs to right now? Is every Republican DA starting every investigation they need to right now.”

GOP Rep. Ronny Jackson said “he would encourage Congress to ‘aggressively go after’ President Biden and his family.”

The Felon’s judicial allies are also doing their best to protect him from further criminal jeopardy:

First, the US Supreme Court continues to delay its ruling on Felon Trump's baseless claim of presidential immunity for his attempted coup and insurrection. Every day that the Court delays its decision makes trial in the DC election interference case less likely. The Court’s glacial response to a matter of national urgency is reprehensible. And transparently partisan.

Second, the Georgia court of appeals issued a stay of the trial proceedings in the state RICO prosecution of Felon Trump for interfering in Georgia’s 2020 presidential election. See CNN Politics, Donald Trump election subversion conspiracy case indefinitely paused by Georgia appeals court.

The stay of the Georgia case is worrisome. Per the Atlanta Journal Constitution, the court of appeals issued a stay on its own motion. AJC writes:

Because none of the defendants had requested a stay, this means the appeals court decided on its own to issue the stay, leading some observers to speculate the court may ultimately reverse McAfee’s decision and disqualify Willis and her office. The appeals court, if it agrees to hold oral arguments, has indicated it will do so some time in the fall, and it must issue its decision by mid-March [2025].

As Joyce Vance noted,

“Unlike federal courts where judges are appointed for life, Georgia elects its judges in races that are non-partisan in name only, with predictable results.”

So, unless and until a different prosecutor replaces Willis, the Georgia case is going nowhere. And if Fani Willis removes herself, it is not clear that a different prosecutor would pursue the case. I do not know how Willis would be replaced if she voluntarily steps down, but per NBC,

Under a 2022 Georgia law, when a district attorney is disqualified, the case is referred to the executive director of the Prosecuting Attorneys’ Council of Georgia, who is tasked with finding another prosecutor for the case.

If Willis is disqualified on appeal, we should expect the appointment of a prosecutor who will dismiss the case.

Third, Judge Aileen Cannon has dropped all pretense of presiding over a criminal trial involving unlawful retention of defense secrets and is converting her courtroom into a theater-in-the-round for right-wing attacks on the special counsel appointment process. In a move so unusual it has never happened before, Judge Cannon invited strangers to the Trump defense secrets case to submit briefs and present oral argument over a day-and-a-half hearing.

The challenges to the appointment of Jack Smith are baseless. Similar challenges have been rejected numerous times. But Cannon seems intent on fabricating a record to justify removal of Jack Smith. See Salon, "Not normal at all": Legal experts say Judge Cannon's "absurd" ruling shows she's an "absolute hack".

Meanwhile, Cannon has not ruled on Jack Smith’s request for a protective order to protect FBI agents and other witnesses from Felon Trump's dangerous accusations that they had orders to “shoot to kill” him during the search of Mar-a-Lago.

It is difficult to describe how inappropriate and unprecedented Cannon’s actions are. While we should avoid falling into conspiracy theories, it seems doubtful that Cannon came up with the stagecraft of a right-wing assault on the special counsel in her courtroom on her own. A plausible explanation is that she is being coached by political operatives working for Convicted Felon Trump.

All the above reeks of desperation to protect Trump from further political damage. Those who humiliate themselves and undermine democracy to protect Trump will be remembered by history alongside those faithless servants who abandoned America during prior crises. In the meantime, recognize that their angry outbursts are signs that they are running scared. They can visualize life after the Convicted Felon has been defeated and they understand they have given up everything for the worst president in American history.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The Nation:

Donald Trump believes that he has the Supreme Court in his back pocket. He is right. The court heard oral arguments on Thursday in Trump v. United States, the case about whether Trump is immune from prosecution over his attempt to obstruct Congress and reverse the results of the election he clearly lost. Trump is counting on delaying the trial about his crimes committed in the previous election until he gets to the next one, which he hopes to win so he can then dismiss the charges against him. The Supreme Court has done everything in its power to help Trump accomplish his goals, and that pattern continued on Thursday.

At this point, people who expect anything less than the maximum partisan thuggery possible from the Republicans justices are not paying attention—or worse, they’re actively lying to themselves and the American people about what the Roberts court has become. The question has long since ceased being “whether” the court will help Trump; the question is only “how” it will go about doing it.

Heading into oral arguments, the justices-for-Trump crowd had three ways to stand by their man: They could grant Trump absolute immunity; they could reject immunity but release their ruling as late as possible; or they could send the case back down to the DC Circuit court for an additional ruling (lawyers call this a “remand”) that would trigger another appeal and another opportunity for delay.

The first option is kind of a nonstarter. Unlike, say, the Republican judges on the US Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, the Republicans on the Supreme Court are generally careful to make sure that their pro-Trump rulings cannot be turned against them later and used by a Democratic president. Giving Trump blanket, absolute immunity could be used by people like the current president, Joe Biden, to do whatever he wanted. Granted, Biden would not use the newfound power to steal an election as Trump did—Democrats are eager to follow rules that don’t apply to the other side—and the Supreme Court knows that. But still, granting future presidents total immunity from criminal prosecution sets a precedent that even Republicans can see is dangerous.

The second option of just delaying the decision rejecting Trump’s argument has always been in play. But that option might not get the Supreme Court and Trump all the way to the next election. There is a timeline, albeit an unlikely one, where special counsel Jack Smith could still get through a trial before November, so long as the court rules against Trump by the end of the term.

That brings us to the third option: Remanding the case back to the DC Circuit. This is the option that causes maximum delay of Trump’s reckoning, allowing him to avoid it entirely if he wins the next election, while still preserving the court’s ability to say that blanket immunity is unconstitutional later down the line, should Trump lose. Remand is therefore the best possible option for the Republican justices if they want to see a Republican president elected in November—and at oral arguments, most of them signaled that’s exactly what they’re going to do.

[shu-of-the-wind]

the only true crime podcasts i think are ethical

it's a short list. as an attorney with a few years (not many) experience in criminal defense, as well as being a long-term abolitionist, i have extremely high standards when it comes to true crime podcasts and i will absolutely talk shit about a lot of the really popular, well known ones for being exploitative and disgusting. however, these are the ones that i personally value, and would recommend, despite my general revulsion of the true crime industry in general, precisely because of their ethical treatment of the topics involved. (you'll notice most of these are run/written by investigative journalists who work for or formerly worked for public radio; this is not a coincidence.)

someone knows something. this specific podcast can waver sometimes but its centering of victims and survivors over the police narrative is something i value deeply. each season is focused around an unsolved case, often with the podcasting team re-investigating the case and uncovering new leads while analyzing why the police have failed up until their coverage.

bear brook. a podcast about three murder victims, a woman and two children, who were found in barrels in a new hampshire park. absolutely incredible investigation work, and highly respectful of victims and survivors the whole way through.

missing and murdered: finding cleo. both seasons of this show are excellent. stories about mmiwg2s by connie walker, a cree journalist. the first season is about an unsolved murder; the second season is about a child missing after the sixties scoop.

accused. another investigative journalism podcast where each season is focused around an unsolved murder.

undisclosed. unfortunately this podcast is not producing new episodes anytime soon to my knowledge, but each season is an in depth examination of a wrongful conviction by three attorneys who specialize in that practice. one of those attorneys is rabia chaudry, who is intimately involved in the adnan syed case.

finally. the big one. the Forever Favorite:

in the dark is a podcast that has released such important stories that they've literally pushed a case up to the supreme court. i have never heard any true crime podcast that has been so thorough in its research; careful in its analysis; and been so respectful of survivors.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Mike Pence, Liz Cheney & Jack Smith are crying in their cheerios...

Federal Judge Tanya Chutkan will not hold the trial for former President Trump on charges stemming from Special Counsel Jack Smith's Jan. 6 investigation until after the 2024 presidential election. 

Chutkan held a status hearing Thursday morning in U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, in which lawyers for Trump pleaded not guilty on his behalf related to charges from Smith’s new indictment after the Supreme Court ruled a president is immune from prosecution for official acts in office.

In an order Thursday afternoon, Chutkan set deadlines for replies and paperwork from federal prosecutors and Trump's legal team for Nov. 7 — after Election Day. 

Trump did not appear in court Thursday. His lawyers pleaded not guilty on his behalf. Smith was in court Thursday morning. 

The case pertains to Trump's alleged efforts to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election. Last week, the former president was indicted and issued revised criminal charges by Smith, who alleges Trump pressured former Vice President Mike Pence to reject legitimate electoral votes, in addition to mounting fake electors in key states that went to President Biden and to attest to Trump's electoral victory.

The new indictment keeps the prior criminal charges but narrows and reframes the allegations against the Republican presidential nominee after a Supreme Court ruling that conferred broad immunity on former presidents.

Specifically, the indictment has been changed to remove allegations involving Department of Justice officials and other government officials. It clarifies Trump's role as a candidate and makes clear the allegations regarding his conversations with then-Vice President Pence in his ceremonial role as president of the Senate.

The new indictment removes a section of the previous indictment that had accused Trump of trying to use the Justice Department to undo his 2020 loss. The Supreme Court recently ruled in a 6-3 decision that Trump was immune from prosecution for official White House acts.

The new indictment removes a section of the previous indictment that had accused Trump of trying to use the Justice Department to undo his 2020 loss. The Supreme Court recently ruled in a 6-3 decision that Trump was immune from prosecution for official White House acts.

Trump has been charged with conspiracy to defraud the United States, conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding, obstruction of and attempt to obstruct an official proceeding and conspiracy against rights. Those charges, to which Trump pleaded not guilty, remain. 

Smith alleges Trump participated in an effort to enlist slates of fake electors in key states won by Biden to attest that Trump had in fact won and that Trump pressured Pence to reject legitimate electoral votes.

The special counsel's office said the updated indictment, filed in federal court in Washington, D.C., was issued by a grand jury that had not previously heard evidence in the case. The new grand jury has only heard this new information.

Sources familiar with the matter tell Fox News that discussions surrounding the superseding indictment will likely not speed things up, and it is unlikely it will go to trial before the November election. 

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Trump is still under a gag order

Liz Cheney on Kamala Harris in August 2020

Liz Cheney on Kamala Harris in September 2024