#to all law enforcement agencies. this is a joke

[mariacallous]

Shortly following reports of an apparent second assassination attempt against former US president and 2024 Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump, Elon Musk decided to speak up.

“And no one is even trying to assassinate Biden/Kamala 🤔,” Musk, X’s owner, wrote in a now deleted post, in response to another person asking, “Why they want to kill Donald Trump?”

After deleting the post—which could be interpreted as a call to murder President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris, Trump’s Democratic opponent in the US presidential election—Musk indicated that it was merely a joke that fell flat given the context. “Well, one lesson I’ve learned is that just because I say something to a group and they laugh doesn’t mean it’s going to be all that hilarious as a post on 𝕏,” he wrote, adding, “Turns out that jokes are WAY less funny if people don’t know the context and the delivery is plain text.”

The incident was the latest in a long line of increasingly incendiary political posts from Musk, whose substantial defense contracts with the US government may give him access to highly sensitive information even while he makes potential threats against the sitting commander in chief. And they point to the more pressing risk that Musk’s recent rhetoric has posed: the potential to inspire further political violence.

While Sunday night’s post is gone, it appears likely that Musk could receive some attention from federal law enforcement, if he hasn’t already.

The United States Secret Service declined WIRED’s request to comment on Musk’s post. “We can say, however, that the Secret Service investigates all threats related to our protectees,” USSS spokesperson Nate Herring tells WIRED.

“In my experience, the Secret Service would take such a comment very seriously,” says Michael German, a former FBI special agent and a liberty and national security fellow at NYU School of Law’s Brennan Center for Justice. “Typically, agents would go out and interview the subject to ensure that there wasn't an existing threat, and to make the subject aware that the agency takes such statements seriously.”

German notes that it’s possible the FBI could also launch an investigation. However, it’s unlikely that Musk would face any charges for his post. “On its face, the tweet would not meet the ‘true threat’ test, in that it wasn't a direct threat to do harm to the vice president, so it wouldn't likely proceed to prosecution,” German says. Still, “it would create a record of the investigations.”

The FBI declined WIRED’s request to comment on Musk’s post. X did not immediately respond to WIRED’s request for comment.

Both Biden and Harris have released statements condemning the apparent attempt on Trump’s life and political violence more broadly. In a statement to ABC News, the White House condemned Musk’s post. "Violence should only be condemned, never encouraged or joked about,” the statement says. “This rhetoric is irresponsible."

Where things get dicier for Musk is his role as a major contractor for the US Department of Defense and NASA. According to Reuters, SpaceX signed a $1.8 billion contract in 2021 with the National Reconnaissance Office, which oversees US spy satellites. The US Space Force also signed a $70 million contract late last year with SpaceX to build out military-grade low-earth-orbit satellite capabilities. Starlink, SpaceX’s commercial satellite internet wing, is providing connectivity to the US Navy.

NASA, meanwhile, has increasingly outsourced its spaceflight projects to SpaceX, including billions of dollars in contracts for multiple trips to the moon and an $843 million contract to build the vehicle that will take the International Space Station out of commission.

The US government’s heavy reliance on companies controlled by Musk has repeatedly raised the hackles of national security experts. Concerns at the Pentagon came into stark relief last September after Musk denied Ukraine’s request to enable Starlink in Crimea, a disputed territory bordering Russia, so it could launch an attack on Russian troops. (Starlink was not under a military contract when he denied the request.) In response to previous WIRED reporting, Musk asserted that “Starlink was barred from turning on satellite beams in Crimea at the time, because doing so would violate US sanctions against Russia!”

Neither the Defense Department nor NASA have responded to WIRED’s request for comment.

Even Musk’s October 2022 acquisition of Twitter (now X) had some experts worried about the national security risks it could pose to the US, given his business relationship and communications with the Chinese government, his alleged outreach to Russian president Vladimir Putin (which Musk has denied), and Saudi Arabia’s continued investment in Twitter following Musk’s buyout. Others raised concerns that China may have leverage over Musk, due to his relationships with Beijing related to Tesla, his electric car company that has a factory in Shanghai. And all that was before Musk—a citizen of South Africa, Canada, and the US—reactivated the accounts of conspiracy theorists and white nationalists, and began heavily pushing his own right-wing political narrative. Immediately following the first attempted assassination of Trump in mid-July, Musk endorsed Trump and reportedly pledged $45 million per month to support a pro-Trump PAC, a funding vow he said he did not make.

Musk’s deleted Sunday night post further complicates matters. The CEO reportedly has security clearance given his companies’ work on classified US government projects. While there are many rules around who gets security clearance, such as abstaining from cannabis use, the designation is awarded and maintained on a risk-vs-reward basis for the US government. Given that Musk is perhaps the world’s richest man and most famous chief executive, it may be tricky to pull his security clearance regardless of his flippant discussions of political assassinations.

“This is where Musk's status might have a greater effect,” says the Brennan Center’s German. “It would be hard for managers to revoke the security clearance of someone in a position of power, whereas they could be expected to take quick action against a regular employee who engaged in similar conduct.”

The most concerning aspect of Musk’s post is its potential to further inflame extremist threats in the US, says Jon Lewis, a research fellow at George Washington University’s Program on Extremism, who calls the post “merely the latest example of right-wing incitement that has become concerningly mainstream in recent years.”

“That the owner of a major social media platform—and US government contractor—is opining on the assassination of political opponents should be alarming for Americans across the political spectrum,” Lewis says. He warns that “culture war narratives and thinly veiled racism” have already had effects on the real world, which could be exacerbated by the far-right’s willingness to answer calls to arms.

“These extremists are waiting for the justification to engage in violence,” he says, “and rhetoric like this provides the perfect excuse.”

[tomorrowusa]

The Vice President of the Philippines, the daughter of a dictatorial former president, has threatened to assassinate the President of the Philippines, the son of a dictatorial former president.

Philippine Vice President Sara Duterte said Saturday she has contracted an assassin to kill the president, his wife and the House of Representatives speaker if she herself is killed, in a brazen public threat that she warned was not a joke. Executive Secretary Lucas Bersamin referred the "active threat" against President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. to an elite presidential guards force "for immediate proper action." It was not immediately clear what actions would be taken against the vice president. The Presidential Security Command immediately boosted Marcos' security and said it considered the vice president's threat, which was "made so brazenly in public," a national security issue. The security force said it was "coordinating with law enforcement agencies to detect, deter, and defend against any and all threats to the president and the first family." Marcos ran with Duterte as his vice-presidential running mate in the May 2022 elections and both won with landslide victories on a campaign call of national unity.

The opposition in the Philippines has difficulty uniting behind a candidate for president. The authoritarians have no such trouble though their unity does not always last past the election.

In a pre-dawn online news conference, an angry Sara Duterte accused Marcos of incompetence as a president and of being a liar, along with his wife and the House speaker in expletives-laden remarks. When asked about concerns over her security, the 46-year-old lawyer suggested there was an unspecified plot to kill her. "Don't worry about my security because I've talked with somebody. I said 'if I'm killed, you'll kill BBM, Liza Araneta and Martin Romualdez. No joke, no joke,'" the vice president said without elaborating and using the initials that many use to call the president.

Given her family's history, it's a good idea to take Sara Duterte's threat seriously.

Former Philippine leader Rodrigo Duterte confirms existence of 'death squad'

[toxicanonymity]

Good behavior (one shot)

7.5k Words | inmate!Corey x f!Reader | NSFW

This is @cordelium's amazing art.

When he reached for your trash, you swiveled your chair so your pants brushed his strong forearm.  He looked up at you from under his curls and you were biting your lip.  You flashed your eyebrows, and he read you like a book.  A devious smile spread across his face, then faded.  His eyes were dark and sexy.  As he stood back up, he ran his masculine, veiny hand up your leg, tracing a line halfway up your thigh.  Your heart raced and your stomach fluttered. 

SUMMARY: Inmate Corey is assigned work detail at your office and you're horny for him. You manage to get some privacy and hook up multiple times.

WARNINGS: Crazy sexual tension & horniness, bribery, inappropriate touching, mild dubcon since he has no rights (but he's so down), hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock), unsafe P in V, sometimes rough, various sex acts?

A/N: Inspiration/history | Check out the full-length illustration of Day 4. Also, check out @slutforstabbings hot new story.

__________________________

Day 1 - Monday 

You saw him from behind when he bent over to pick up the trash bin in your office.  The first thing you noticed was his shapely ass, followed by the rolled-up sleeves of his orange top.  You were grateful to whoever issued his too-small prison garb. Judging by the curve of his biceps, he probably had to cuff the sleeves or else cut off his circulation.  

"Thanks," you said.  

"No problem," he responded in a deep voice with a northern accent.  As he turned his head toward you, you saw the scar on his neck.  His curly hair.  His perfect nose.  There was no doubt who it was.  He did a double take and caught you checking him out with your mouth agape. He gave you a little smirk and raised his eyebrows as he left with his Corrections Officer.  

-

You couldn't help it.  Not only did he have a stunning body, but you were also stunned to see "psycho killer" Corey Cunningham on inmate work detail at all, let alone there of all places:  The judicial complex where he was convicted.  The thing was, he was only convicted of arson and destruction of property, so he wasn’t treated as a violent offender.  

Corey was never even charged with a violent crime after the 2022 killing spree.  All the murders were pinned on Michael Myers – Law Enforcement was in a tight spot after allowing a town mob to literally shred him to a pulp.  It would be a terrible look if they turned around and said, “by the way, someone else actually committed most of the Halloween murders this year.”  They wanted to avoid anything that could raise even a shred of doubt that Michael deserved it. 

Plenty of people in Haddonfield still connected the deaths to Corey, though.  The motives pointed to him, whereas motives were never a factor for Michael Myers. There were two major competing theories about the 2022 victims: either Corey killed them with Michael, or Michael killed them for Corey, his rumored lover.  If the latter was true, frankly, you thought that was hot as fuck.  But all you knew for sure was that Corey Cunningham was fine as hell and suddenly in your office. 

Obviously, Corey’s work detail assignment was all the talk around the water cooler that day.  You downplayed it and suggested everyone just keep to themselves whenever he came in.  If it was any other notorious criminal, you would have been on the phone with the Warden’s Office within minutes asking how the hell this happened.  It was an open mockery of the system.  But the last thing you wanted them to do was take him away.  You secretly lusted after him during the whole joke of an investigation into “Michael’s” latest killing spree, and then throughout his arson trial.  It wasn’t unethical - Your agency didn’t handle felonies, thankfully.  But all the agencies talk, and you hung on any crumb you heard about him.  

-

You thought about Corey all day.  You thought about how your office was back in the corner, and the windows had blinds.  You thought about the way he looked at you.  Your wheels started turning.  As a starting point, you moved your trash can under your desk and twisted the blinds shut on your window to the main office hall.

-

Day 2 - Tuesday 

The next day, when Corey came in, he greeted you with your name, which was printed on your office door.   Something about that scar was so hot.  You loved his tattoos, too.  You stayed in your chair, right next to the waste basket.  He stopped for a moment to look around your office for the trash.  "Good morning," you said quietly.  You nodded under your desk.  It was a bold move.  You didn't want to be demeaning, but you knew he would like where you were headed with this.  He smirked subtly and approached your desk.  

When he reached for your trash, you swiveled your chair so your pants brushed his strong forearm.  He looked up at you from under his curls and you were biting your lip.  You flashed your eyebrows, and he read you like a book.  A devious smile spread across his face, then faded.  His eyes were dark and sexy.  As he stood back up, he ran his masculine, veiny hand up your leg, tracing a line halfway up your thigh.  Your heart raced and your stomach fluttered.  He went and emptied your trash before coming back.  

After returning the basket under your desk, his chin hovered over your shoulder.  He brought his nose to the crook of your neck, and you were tingling everywhere. He put his mouth to your ear and whispered, "you smell amazing."   Your ears burned and your nipples were rock hard.  You could hardly stand the tension.  You inhaled deeply and smiled.  He smelled amazing, too.  Like wood, musk, and fresh cotton. 

After Corey left your office, you made a trip to the restroom just so you could politely greet his Corrections Officer and take note of the name on his tag.  

That day, you also volunteered to stay back from a conference everyone else in your office would attend the following week.  You pointed out the critical need for someone to be on call in the actual office.  Records were close to full virtualization, but there were still some physical files.  When they said yes, you had to contain your excitement.  The Solicitor General personally thanked you for looking out.

-

Day 3 - Wednesday 

Colleagues seemed to notice that you wore a skirt, but you didn't care.  You almost always wore pants, but at this point, every choice you made needed to bring you closer to having Corey Cunningham inside you. 

That morning, you closed your door more than half-way and stood at your desk.  You wheeled your chair slightly out of the way.  Corey slipped into your office without opening the door wider, and stopped in his tracks when he saw you in that skirt.  You shamelessly checked each other out like two animals in a mating ritual. Your eyes fell on the bulge in his orange pants.  Both your faces flushed.  You each knew exactly what you wanted. 

You turned to face your computer without sitting down. You wrote on a post-it note "everyone will be gone Mon-Weds" and put it on the top of your trash, which he still had to crouch down to pick up. He read the note and looked up at you with his pupils wide, then scanned your body as he stood up, his hand trailing up the inside of your bare leg.  "Good," he said to your chest, then crumpled up the note.  He was breathing heavily. His muscular thigh grazed yours as he went to empty the trash.  

He came back with the empty basket, and for a moment, he stood directly behind you with his free hand on your hip.  He gently pressed his hard-on against your skirt and dragged it about an inch upward. You silently gasped at the pang of pleasure.  You both heard the CO's keys jingling increasingly louder in the hall.   Before leaving, Corey adjusted himself, which made your toes curl.  He gave you the most lustful gaze on his way out.  You were determined for this man to fuck you.

-

You thought about Corey that night and barely even touched yourself but came so hard.  You needed to figure out how the two of you would get some privacy from the CO.  You did some research.  The CO escorting him normally worked at the prison and was only on a temporary assignment at the judicial complex to fill in for someone on parental leave.  The judicial complex was by far the preferred place to work, and it paid more, too.  It probably wouldn’t take more than a phone call to get him permanently transferred, which would benefit both you and the CO.  Hopefully this might incentivize the CO’s cooperation the following week. 

Before you proposed this, you would have to make sure the CO was essentially bribable – the pay was absurdly low, so many of them were – and that he wouldn't turn around and try to get you fired.  On your way home, you bought a burner phone. 

-

Day 4 - Thursday  

You emptied your own trash before Corey got there, buying you a couple of minutes.  He came in with a broom and dust pan, but there was nothing to sweep.  You sat in your chair and he stood in front of you.  You looked at each other with electricity between you, wondering what would happen next  – or rather, how you would make it happen.  You grabbed a fine point sharpie and pulled down his waistband, sending a rush through your body and his.  His breath was so heavy.  You watched his bulge swell, then rested the heel of your palm against it as you held his waistband.  He held his shirt up for you, and you wrote your burner number just above his pubic hair.  It was wildly intimate.  

When you finished writing, you didn’t scoot back, and Corey didn't bother turning away when he adjusted himself before leaving.  You caught a glimpse of his fat, pink cock-head and felt weak in the knees.  You were so wet that when he left, you had to turn your skirt around to make sure your arousal wasn't visible. You went home during lunch and changed underwear.  On your way back to work, you stopped at the bank to withdraw some cash, just to get the conversation started with the CO.  You kept your door half-closed for the rest of the day so it wouldn't be conspicuous when you kept it half-closed with Corey there in the morning. 

@cordelium illustration

-

Later that night, you were eating dinner alone at home when you got the call.  

"You have received a collect call from an inmate at the Illinois Department of Corrections.  Would you like to accept the charges?" Your heart raced.

You pressed #1 and said "Hey,” as casually as you could. “It’s good to hear from you.” 

Neither of you were stupid, you knew the line was monitored and recorded. . 

"Uh, hey," he said, his low voice sending a hot chill down your spine. 

"How are you doing?" you asked. 

He groaned softly, which sent you throbbing.  "It's been a hard week," he said.  

Your chest swarmed with butterflies. "Yeah? How hard?"

"Very, very hard." God, he was so fucking hot.  

You sighed.  "I really wish there was something I could do about that."

 "God, me too. Trust me."

"Um. Is your CO nice at least?" 

"Oh yeah," Corey said.  "He's one of the best.  He's really nice, as long as we are, too."  Jackpot. 

You exhaled in relief.  "Well, good."  You started walking to your bedroom, dying for relief. 

"Yeah," Corey said.  "How's your work? Are you ready for your thing?"

"Ugh, I couldn't be more ready."  It was true.  You were aching for him.  You opened your nightstand. 

You heard someone tell him his time was up in the background.  You laid down and put your vibrator up your skirt.

"I've gotta run," he told you. 

"It was nice hearing your voice," you said.  

"Yeah, you too, babe." . . .Babe. Your heart fluttered, and that's not all.

You were about to overheat by the time he hung up and you turned on the toy.  You made yourself come in less than a minute, and you couldn't help but say his name.  

-

Day 5 - Friday

Now that your plans were in motion, you were even more excited than usual to see Corey.  You tied up your trash in a grocery bag to save him some time, but left it in your bin so he wouldn’t leave empty handed.  You were purring between the legs by the time he entered your office and gave you that hungry look.  You could already see the beginning of his arousal.  His broad chest heaved under his prison garb and the veins on his hands bulged.  

You sat toward the edge of your chair.   He crouched next to you to get the trash, inhaling you on his way down.  He turned to face you, and you swiveled your chair toward him.  You subtly opened your legs at the risk of a tidal wave whooshing onto your chair.  He wasted no time sliding his hand up your inner thigh all the way to your soaked underwear.  You watched his prison tattoos flex as he gently rubbed his thick digits along your panties.  Your clit throbbed so hard, he must have felt it.  He inhaled deeply, then surprised you by lingering there and nudging the wet, silky fabric aside.  Living dangerously.  

He bit his gorgeous lip as he slid two fingers into you with a silent shudder. You gasped softly, then quickly  covered your mouth.  He breathed heavily as he gently fingered you, his thumb on your clit.  His lips parted and his head tilted back.  His Adam's apple was absurdly sexy, and the scar on his neck mesmerized you.  

Corey obviously had trouble peeling himself away, as did you.  You were so fucking hot for him, you would've risked almost anything for just a few more seconds - anything but the chance to have him inside you.  You didn't want to ruin what you were so close to achieving. 

"Here," you whispered with a folded $100 bill held between two fingers like a cigarette in your lap as you began to close your legs.   You dared to finger the back of his curly mullet before he stood up.  The seediness of giving him money turned you on even more.  He withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his mouth as he stood up.  His bulge had grown and was once again right in front of you.  You slipped the bill into his waistband and took the opportunity to graze his raging hard-on. "Tell him we wanna talk," you said.

He nodded.  The keys of the CO jingled closer, and Corey quickly composed himself. 

"See you then," he whispered as he secured the cash.  He adjusted himself and you felt the sharpest pang of desire.  You watched his ass as he left. It looked so ripe, you wanted to pluck him right off the vine.  

-

THE WEEKEND

Sunday, you got another call from prison. 

"I miss you," he said. 

"I miss you too," you told him. 

"How's the weather?" he asked. 

"Wet. Very wet."

"It's gonna be hotter Monday," he said, then shifted gears.  "Hey, uh, the friend we talked about wants to meet you. He's cool." 

This was very good news.  

-

Day 6 - Monday 

Monday, you were alone in your office, just as you planned, and you could not have been more ready for Corey.  You wore very accessible underwear and a skirt that was long enough to be decent but flowy enough to easily lift.  Your shirt wrapped around with a tie closure.  You didn't know how much time you would have. 

It was radio silent in the office with everyone else gone to the retreat.  You gathered up everyone's trash yourself and put it in one bag so it would be ready for Corey and the CO.  Right on schedule, you heard the door to the office open, then the CO's keys jingle louder and louder down the hall until your door pushed open.  

You were leaning back against the front of your desk but stood up straight when they came in.  You started to introduce yourself. 

"I know who you are," the CO said gently.  "I know you're as human as me. I've just gotta know I'm talking to the person, not the job." 

“Of course,” you said, then cleared your throat.  “You normally work at the prison, right? The gig here is until, what, next month?”

He nodded, intrigued.  “That’s right.” 

“Do you like it enough to stay?” 

“Sure,” he said, skeptically.  “How do we make it happen?” 

“Well, Corey and I would appreciate a little privacy this week.  I know you have a tight schedule, and this won’t even disrupt it.  I’ll handle the cleaning for our office, and we’d like to spend that time alone instead.   If we can do that, I’ll make a call next week.”

He slowly nodded, either wondering how he could trust you to make the call, or marveling that you could truly be that horny.  

“I think we both want the same thing,” you reassured him.  “For you to be here.  It would obviously benefit me, too, in case of any future, uh, opportunity.”  

You glanced toward Corey, who was chewing his thumbnail excitedly.  Every little thing he did was so fucking sexy.   

“Sound good? Here,“ you slipped him several folded bills. “For your discretion meanwhile.”  

The CO looked you in the eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.  He extended his hand to shake yours, then pocketed the cash. “Alright,” he said. 

Before the CO even left, Corey was all the way up against you, backing you into the edge of your desk, hands engulfing your head, his lips grazing yours, breathing hotly into your mouth as your hands drifted toward his ass.  

“Ten minutes," the CO said and you heard him jingle away.  You pried your head from Corey’s for a moment to look at the clock on your wall.  

9:40

“That was hot as fuck,” Corey growled in your ear. 

Then, he kissed you like it was his first time tasting water.   Your chest swelled full of life as your mouth greedily accepted his, and you untied your blouse.  He grinded his arousal into you and grabbed your ass.  You slid your hand into his waistband.  Hot, rock-hard, and thick.  

He wedged himself between your knees and nudged you into sitting on the edge of your desk.  He bowed his head to continue kissing you thirstily.  He threw your blouse open as your palm moved the smooth, warm skin of his girthy shaft.  You were throbbing impatiently beneath your skirt and the feeling radiated through your ass and thighs. He palmed your breast aggressively, nudging your bra down, then took your nipple into his mouth and gave it a gentle bite while his other hand slid between your legs.  His cock head weeped into your palm.  You almost choked on your gasp.  You were desperate for him.  

9:42  

When his thick fingers reached the narrow, wet lace of your thong, he whispered "fuck, yeah" as he pushed it aside.  His voice got hotter and hotter.  He gathered your skirt out of the way, and his head dove between your legs.  His beautiful nose rubbed your clit in a way you never knew you needed as he lapped at your dripping seam and softly moaned into your cunt.  He devoured you like he was starving - eyes closed, brow furrowed. 

But every inch of your body wanted every inch of his. “I need you inside me,” you said.  

He stood up and fumbled with his waistband, his lips returning to yours, imparting the light tinge of yourself.  You helped him free his cock and tilted your hips invitingly.  He grabbed your thighs and pulled you against him. His warm, naked shaft  dragged up and down your slippery seam.  The warm tension in your core coiled tighter and you whimpered.   

The swollen head of his cock prodded at your entrance.  You never needed anything as bad as you needed him inside you at that moment.  He held you tight and plunged his cock inside you.  You moaned in unison.  You were so absurdly wet and ready that his imposing girth felt nothing but amazing. He pulled back just a little, then plunged even further, bottoming out with the sexiest grunt. 

9:45  

It was the perfect stretch and each thrust felt better than the last.  Your hips moved in the same rhythm.  He was meant to be inside you.  You were already close.   You wrapped your legs around him. He lifted one of your thighs, and you sank further onto him than you knew was possible, your clit smashing and grinding into his pubic bone with each beat.   Oh God, the friction was perfect.  

9:48  

You came harder than you knew was possible, your whole body contracting, releasing.  Corey erupted with a groan, holding you down on his cock, and pulsed enormously inside you.  His hips rolled into yours much slower as he came, and when his balls had given you everything, he sat you down on your desk.  You both were breathing heavily, his forehead against yours, when you heard the front office door open. 

9:51

"Fuck," Corey exhaled.  "I'm sorry."  You both scrambled to compose yourselves.  You tied your blouse again as the keys jingled down the hall and the CO’s shadow passed your closed blinds.  

"Damn," the CO said when he saw you all hot and disheveled. "You're the real deal.  I'll give you a minute," he said, and stepped outside your office. 

"God, you're so fucking hot," Corey gushed in a whisper, and kissed you forcefully before he left. 

-

Tuesday - Day 7 

The next morning, you  got an actual work call you had to deal with.  It was an Assistant District Attorney.  You hoped Corey didn't hear his voice.  The door to the front office opened just as you were finishing up.  You got off the call and scrambled to clear your desk and calm your nerves. 

There were no jingling keys, just one set of heavy footsteps. You paused your clean-up to take off your blazer, leaving a black, stretchy tube dress with a built-in shelf bra.  You planned to take off your underwear before he arrived but didn't have time.  You would've gone commando to begin with, but thoughts of Corey would have been a hazard to your chair.

Your heart pounded and your core tightened the closer he got.  Through the blinds of your interior window, you saw his silhouette approach.  It was an attractive shape. You tingled all over. 

"Sorry," you said as you picked up a stack of files to move to your credenza.  

Corey didn't say a word, not "it's okay," not even "hey."  He came in and closed the door behind him.  You looked up at him and did a double take.  There was a different energy about him.  More intense.  He had a dark, wild look in his eyes, but otherwise, no expression.  

His pants stretched tight over his arousal as he lumbered toward you.  So fucking hot.  He engulfed you dominantly from behind.  His hard chest pressed against your back, his hardness into your ass, and you dropped the stack of files.  His mouth latched onto your neck as his hands roved hungrily, groping your breasts, hiking up your dress, sliding his hand down your panties and flattening his fingers against your dripping cunt with rolling pressure.  He was rougher, more controlling.  He breathed heavily into your ear, but said nothing.     

You were already throbbing so hard.  He pushed the top of your dress down out of the way as he aggressively palmed your breasts, sucked your neck,  and rutted into you.  He manhandled you over the end of your credenza and yanked your dress all the way up over your ass, turning it into a pathetic tube top that sat beneath your breasts.

His thighs pinned you to the credenza, his massive hand slid between your legs again, and the throbbing hardness in his pants pressed into you forcefully.  He shuddered and your nipples hardened, making him grope both breasts, even harder.   You felt his bulge swell against you as it rolled into your ass.  You ached for him so badly.  You pulled down your panties with both hands and he pulled down his pants.  He must have looked so hot.  You turned to look at him, but his large hand on your back forced you down onto the polished wood surface.  You couldn't see the clock. 

Corey inhaled deeply and you felt his swollen cock-head slide against your dripping seam, then he shoved himself into you with a primal grunt.  Holy fuck, he felt so good.  He thrust into you harder, stretching your insides so he could bottom out.  And again, filling you to the brim with his meat.  The tension inside you was coiled so tight you could have come at any moment.  He was impossibly hard and thick.  He lowered his chest over your back as he fucked you.  He let you rise up just enough for his arms to wrap around you, his large, rough hands feeling you up as he rammed into you. He fucked you like an animal until the tight coil in your core sprang open all at once, sending an intoxicating rush through your whole body each time you pulsed in release.

You came hard.  His large, veiny hand clamped over your mouth and muffled your moan.  His strong arms kept you almost still as your muscles jolted and jerked.  As you pulsed and quaked and whimpered into his hand, he didn’t let up at all until suddenly he was coming, too.  He growled almost imperceptibly, milking his cock with your contractions.  You were moving as one body, one beautiful machine, jolting together in silent bliss.  As you both finished coming, he finally relaxed his grip around you.  

His arms lifted your chest up and squeezed you from behind, his cock still inside you.  You were both panting. He kissed the nape of your neck, inhaling deeply through his nose, then gently pulled your dress up over your breasts, caressing them through the smooth fabric.  His cock didn’t seem to shrink at all. You didn't want him to pull out.  Not now, not ever.  

But you heard the front office door open.  He inhaled your hair deeply and slid his dick out of you.  He tugged your dress down and allowed you to face him as he pulled up his pants. You gawked at his thighs.   When your eyes met, his were black.  He ran his hands down your sides, then over your ass, pulling your pelvis gently into his.   

The CO knocked on your office door,  "We gotta move."  

Corey read your face and vacantly kissed you on the forehead as his cum trickled down your inner thigh.  Your fingers itched to caress the scar on his neck, but you didn't dare, especially not this time.  His dark eyes looked you up and down, and he left without a single word.  The CO's keys echoed more loudly than ever as they walked away.   

-

Dark, masculine energy hung in the air even after he left. 

What the hell just happened?  Not a single word.  You couldn't put your finger on it, but it was like he was someone else. 

A chill ran down your spine when you realized who. 

It was hot as fuck. 

-

You received a collect call that night on your burner.   Was he going to say something or just breathe into the phone? 

"Hey beautiful." It was like nothing happened.  When you heard his voice, you wanted to jump through the phone and onto his dick.  

"God, it's good to hear your voice," you said.  

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"  Ah, maybe it was the fact that you weren’t ready for him.  

"Yeah," you said, then something came over you. Hearing his voice made you so fucking hot for him, like you needed to chain him to your desk and just ride him all day. "I'm actually going to be leading it."

"Oh," he said. He inhaled and exhaled loudly "hmm." His voice was a low hum.  

"Yeah, I hope they're ready."

He let out an aching sigh.  "I'm sure they will be. . .hey, what if it's longer than the other sessions?"

Your heart swelled.  "I would love that," you said.  "there's always more to pack in."

"Ugh," he groaned softly and your nipples puckered.  His voice was low and gruff as he said, "Yeah, there is." 

-

Wednesday - Day 8 

You chose a leather chair with no arms that would allow you to be face to face.  You took off your underwear, button-up shirt, and bra, leaving only a skirt and thin spaghetti-strap tank.  God forbid anyone else walk in. 

Corey arrived about ten minutes earlier than usual and looked at you like he was starving.  You nodded to the chair.  "Alright," he said your name as he took his seat, manspreading.  Your name sounded so hot in his mouth.   "Your move."  God, the sound of his voice. The look in his eyes.  He glanced at the clock. "We've probably got like 15-20."    

9:30 

"Thank God," you said.  It was still virtually no time at all, but every minute with him felt like a gift.  You took a moment to appreciate his entire form, from his dark, curly locks down to his huge boots. His muscles. His pre-faded prison tattoos.  His almost-snarl. He was so imposing and delicious. You wanted, needed to see more of him.�� He looked physically pained not to be touching you.  He opened his arms and his biceps flexed under his rolled-up sleeves.

You swung your leg over him and straddled him, your throbbing warmth meeting the hardness of his pants right away.  He bit his lip as his pelvis rose to greet you and his massive hands ran up and down your sides.  His lips hungrily claimed yours, his tongue forcing your mouth open. You rolled your hips into him and his cock swelled harder against you.  You physically flinched in pleasure, breaking the kiss.  It was almost too much too soon.  Corey breathed loudly, and he searched your eyes as you grinded into him, admiring his face.  His hands ran from your thighs up to your ass, taking your skirt all the way up.  

You curled your fingers under his shirt and he took it off in a flash.  Oh my.  He held your balance as you leaned back and ran your hands all over his firm, broad chest and he watched your eyes roam his body.  You scooted your ass back toward his knees, painfully prying your pelvis away from his for just a minute to take it all in. 

9:32

Your thumbs traced between his pecs, down his abs, around his belly button, his happy trail, where you shoved your hand into his pants.  You massaged his warm, engorged member and he thrust it into your hand.  If this was the last chance you had, you needed to taste him.  You pulled his waistband down and got on your knees.    

It was your first time seeing his cock head-on, and you tried not to dwell on its beauty while the clock was ticking.  You were mesmerized by his fine, red hair.  You wrapped your lips around the swollen tip and when you sucked it into your mouth, he sucked air in through his teeth and his chest puffed out.  He stroked your cheek with a large knuckle and the vein on his hand looked so hot.  

He was delicious.  Salty and musky.  You inhaled as deep as you could through your nose.  Your fingers gently felt the fine red hair above his cock as you opened wide and took as much of him as your mouth could hold.  His chest heaved and he moaned.  You looked up at him with his cock in your mouth and he was so fucking hot from that angle.  His muscles. His Adam's apple. The scar on his neck. His shitty, seedy tattoos.  A symbol or vertical zig-zag on his hip bone.  You were throbbing so hard you almost straddled his filthy boot seeking friction and you knew it was time to move on.  

But first, you slurped his cock further into your mouth.  "Fuck," he said in the voice that drove you wild.  "Okay," he panted, "get back up here, assuming you wanna fuck before I come." 

You looked at him, and he looked at the ceiling.  Ugh, that throat.  

9:37

You held his hard cock in your hand and tried to memorize his whole groin as quickly as you could.  You checked out the tat on his hip bone.  Holy shit.   It wasn’t a zig-zag, it was initials:  "M.M."  You were floored and extremely turned on.  You ran your thumb over it lightly, and his cock swelled in your hand.  His eyes widened then darkened as he looked down at your thumb on the initials, and he got even harder.  His cock was weeping in your hand.  

As you urgently climbed back onto him, you had to ask. "Is it true?" 

He raised his eyebrows, and in the sexiest, hushed voice, he asked, "Do you want it to be?" 

You nodded almost imperceptibly and dragged your wet heat against his smooth, naked shaft.  His hardness took your breath away.

“Yeah? Does it turn you on?" He asked as he  grabbed your ass and moved you harder into him.  You slid firmly up and down his stiff member, and each time his tip met your clit, it was a burst of pleasure everywhere.  

"Yeah," you whispered lowly, searching his face for an answer.  His eyebrows jumped and he smirked ever so slightly as he swelled against you even harder.  God, your whole body ached for him.  

You aligned your entrance, and his cock nudged it needily.  You began to sink onto him, and he gasped.  His smirk disappeared and his lips parted.  His massive hands on your hips brought you down on him hard.

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned as the enhanced girth of his swollen cock parted your insides. 

You had never been so full, and it felt amazing.  Your nipples puckered, goosebumps prickled across your breasts, and your arm hair stood on end.  His breath was ragged.  He withdrew just a tad, then thrust up into you as you sank down even harder.  You felt so alive. 

As you rolled your hips into his, he moaned and his mouth hung open.  His pelvis rose, rocking you into the air.  Your lips drew his mouth into yours, swallowing his breathy moans, and he kissed you more ferally than you'd ever been kissed.  He held you down on his cock and your aching clit found friction where your bodies met.  The motion of your hips together moved his girth inside you in just the right way.  His cock would retreat just an inch, then, your body would swiftly reclaim it. 

You draped your wrists on the back of the chair and fingered his curls as you rode him, marveling at his beautiful face.  He thrust in perfect rhythm with your needy hips.  You tore off your shirt and he softly moaned into your neck.  

His hot breath on your skin sent you over the edge. Your whole body shook, and as his mouth went to your tit, you buried your lips in the hair behind his ear to stop from crying out.  He smelled so masculine.  He slowed his pace and shuddered as you clenched around his cock. You finished coming, and relief flooded your body. 

9:45

When you looked him in the eyes again, it was like you both had the sudden realization that this was it.  He kissed you more desperately than ever, like he needed you to live, and began thrusting into you harder.  He sucked your neck painfully hard and held you tight against him.  Your bare skin together felt like you should never be torn apart. 

God, this man did something to you.  Your chest swelled and tension consumed your core again.   He slid his arms under your knees, letting them hang over his elbows, gently  tilting your hips.  Your spine arched and he sloppily kissed his way from your sternum to your neck.  He wrapped his arms around your back, pushing your hamstrings up and spreading your legs wide.  

In one smooth movement, he stood up from the chair, his cock twitching deep inside you, and laid you down on your desk.  He hovered over you, as if his dark eyes were studying, absorbing the pleasure on your face.  You wrapped your legs around him and he fucked you so hard and deep. Filling you to the brim each time, his balls slamming into you.  

He groaned as he began to pulse inside you.  You whimpered, and pleasure burst from your solar plexus, almost blinding you as you came – you saw his face contort in broken flashes.  His cock pulsed violently inside you, with a huge swell of warmth in your core every time your walls clenched around him.  His body folded into yours heavily as you both finished coming and your legs relaxed around him.  He grunted softly in protest when your aftershocks overstimulated him. 

He nuzzled his hair into your chest and neck, kissing you sloppily, desperate for more time with you, knowing it was over any second. He hugged you as he straightened his back, bringing you upright with him.  You sat on your desk, your ankles hooked around his legs, kissing his pecs, his sternum, his tattoos, his scar, with your hands memorizing each other's bodies. The front office door opened and he hugged you tightly into him, so tight you could hardly breathe but didn't want him to ever let go.  

As the keys jingled closer, you both dressed hastily.  Your thumb brushed his tattoo as he pulled up his pants. 

Corey kissed you one more time, deeper than ever, like he was taking something he knew you’d need back.  

9:52

You knew this goodbye wouldn’t be forever.  That simply couldn't be the last time.  You didn't care what it took - you had a primal need for this man.

-

You felt despondent for a few hours.  There were so many things you hadn't done. You indulged yourself in a montage. You wanted to swallow his cum and hear him groan at full volume. You wanted his magnificent nose to linger between your legs and penetrate you, but you hadn't been able to pry yourself away from his cock for long enough. Your eyes welled up with the horniest tears. You scolded yourself for this emotional state, but it's a terrible feeling, the pain of something you can't have, even if it's right in front of you.

Finally, you composed yourself and made the call. You asked about Corey's CO. Your friend in the Warden’s Office said, “I don’t see why not." He even said he'd get the paperwork started. Your tears threatened to return as ones of hope.   You went to the bathroom and splashed your face and did a double take in the mirror.   Your hand shot to your neck and your face got hot, but then, your heart swelled.  You still had him with you.  You would savor his marks until you could figure everything out.

-

Day 9 (The Day After) -  Thursday 

About half the office came back from the conference Thursday.   You wore a dress with a silk scarf and blazer.  Two of the cooler investigators, Oscar and Kate, who worked in a different wing, stopped by to catch you up.  You suspected they had something going on between them, you just weren’t sure what.   Neither of them were single.  Investigators were pretty good about covering their own tracks and picking up the scents of others.  It was a hazard of working with them.  You made sure to clean your office thoroughly for that reason.

Oscar sat in the black leather chair where Corey and you fucked 25 hours prior, and Kate sat in the one next to it.  You sat behind your desk, the one Corey fucked you on twice.  Kate gave you a book, which you put behind you on the credenza where you also fucked.  

The first thing they told you about was a guy from the conference.  Oscar thought you’d like him a lot.  Kate disagreed.  You had no interest at all, but you let them tell you anyway.  You enjoyed listening to them bicker.  It made their sexual tension so obvious.  Their banter was one thing you missed after being moved over to this wing.  When Kate started telling you about the actual conference, you sat back lazily in your chair and nodded vacantly.  Your hand drifted to your neck, grazing the bruises under your scarf.  The sexual montage in your head was so distracting that you didn’t notice what time it was.  

As Kate yammered on about cyber risk in criminal justice, Corey came into your office and you startled upright, causing Oscar to look behind him at the door and do a double take.  

Oscar said, “Mind knocking? We’re kinda busy, man.”  

“No, it’s fine,” you said.  “Thank you,” you smiled at Corey.  “I don’t have any trash, though.” You didn’t. 

Corey just kind of looked at you.  But what were you going to do, kick your colleagues out of your office so your secret psycho killer boyfriend could feel you up? You looked at him somewhat apologetically.  

Kate looked back and forth between you and Corey.  Then, so did Oscar.  

“You heard her,” Oscar told him.  Corey didn’t even look at Oscar.  He smiled at you and left quietly.  

Oscar turned back around and looked at you, then shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking Corey Cunningham,” he said.  “Really??”

You tried to stop your face from going white.  

“I had to see it to believe it,” he said. 

Oscar looked back at the doorway, then at Kate, then at you again.  You didn’t react.  He needed to show more of his hand. 

“How does Corey Cunningham get work detail?” he finally said.  You internally breathed a sigh of relief but also wondered if Corey could hear him.  

“Good behavior?” you said with air quotes. Air quotes could imply anything from politics to extortion.

“Oscar, don’t you have that meeting with Frank?” Kate said abruptly.  

“Shit.” Oscar left.

-

Kate leaned into your desk and asked, “So?” 

“What?” you asked. 

“Fucking Cunningham. Details?”  

She was studying your face so intently.  You were normally as cool as a cucumber and very hard to read, but you wouldn’t be surprised if that had gone out the window along with the rest of your self-restraint.  

You shrugged.  “He started last week, I think.” 

“Have you talked to him?” 

“Small talk.  Perfect gentleman so far.” 

“Hmm,” Kate said, still studying your face.  Her eyes drifted to the chair Oscar sat in.  Surely you didn’t miss a cum stain.  You wondered what Kate would do if she knew. Your heart started beating faster.  She looked at your jugular vein.  Shit.  

Her face broke into a smile.  “You think he’s hot, don’t you?” 

Now, this you could deal with. You answered carefully, “Like. . . objectively?” your face breaking into a smile. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged.  “He’s hot,” she said, laughing and nodding, covering her mouth like she was such a bad girl. 

“Right??” You mirrored her demeanor.  It was objectively true, so you had that going for you. 

“Yeah, I hope they keep him around,” she said in a whisper.  “I just wouldn’t want to be alone with the guy,” she added. 

“I mean. . .” you raised your eyebrows.  Joking about it would mean you had nothing to hide.  

She playfully slapped your wrist and doubled over laughing.  “I miss you.  I wish I worked in this wing.”  You were glad she didn’t, even though you missed her, too.  

-

You worried about Corey all day and were relieved to get a collect call almost as soon as you got home. 

“Hey baby,” you said gently, worried he’d be mad.  “How are you?”

“Oh so now you care,” he replied. 

“Of course I care,” you pleaded.  “Come on, you know I can’t – I had kind of a shitty morning.”   

“No, I know, babe.  I was just thinking about you,” he said softly.  

“I was thinking about you, too. Like all day.” 

“Really? What were you wearing?” he asked. His voice was really working its magic between your legs.  

“Well, right now, I'm not wearing much-”

“No scarf?” he cut you off.  

“Um-” 

“You should never wear a scarf. You should be proud of your beautiful neck. Don't you like it?”  

“I really do,” you sighed and stroked your painful bruises.  

“Oh! I think everything’s going to work out with our friend,” you told him.  

His voice brightened.  “Good,” he said.  “I hope you have a better morning tomorrow.” 

“Me too.  I’ll do what I can.” 

You set a reminder to take off your scarf while he was there, unsure what else you could do about that without attracting attention that would jeopardize the whole situation.

Something else was bugging you, though.  Was Corey really not the least bit upset at being shooed away from your office? You wondered if you should be worried about Oscar.  

###

Afterword: Luckily, i've taken an oath not to let morality interfere with my writing, but prison labor reform is worth a google if you're interested in social issues.

[celestiarambles]

You'll be Safe Here

trigger warning: suicide, overdose, hospitalization, psychiatric hospitals, mental disorders

hi so i know y'all are tired of me trying to defend angela... but here's another fic defending her once again xD

this is kind of like a part 2 of you can't catch me now in lars' pov and this was kind of requested by @dinamo123xpq, i had planned to write this a long time ago but i got busy and now here it is!

also whenever i listen to the filipino song you'll be safe here (the lyrics are in english) it also kind of reminds me of lars and angela (i'll reblog it with the spotify link later haha)

so yeah i hope you'll endure my yapping about this for at least a little longer HAHA

Summary: Lars wasn’t supposed to care about Angela anymore. Once the Bureau was over, his plan was to settle their divorce papers and stay in Australia with his daughters for good…

Until he gets an important call.

Also cross-posted on Ao3: You'll be Safe Here - celestiamirasol - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

It has been a week ever since the Bureau had officially dismantled SOMBRA for good. They only had to process paperworks and forensic evidence for every law enforcement agency in the world, and everything would be over. 

Their purpose would be over.

”What are you planning to do after this, bro?” Jack asked his best friend. “I honestly don’t know, the Bureau’s been my whole life…”

Lars knew exactly what he was going to do. Local forensic laboratories in Australia were offering positions to him after they had heard of his work in the Bureau, but he wasn’t interested. Once he settled his divorce papers, he was going to find a simpler job, start anew with his daughters.

His daughters deserved a peaceful life, one without chaos or violence. One without betrayal. He wanted to close this chapter of his life so bad.

”Daddy, you’re still not coming back to Australia with us?” April innocently asked as he brought the triplets to the airport. Their nanny followed suit.

”I’m really sorry girls, but I’ll just settle something in the Bureau, and then I’ll stay with you for good.”

“Can we see mommy?” June shyly asked.

”June, mommy had already left us!” May’s response had broken Lars’ heart. He didn’t want to hear his kids ever say that, but it was for the best. So that they could all move on.

”Girls, I know this is hard for all of us…” Lars knelt down to meet their gaze, trying to hold back tears. “…but you might never see your mom again. It’s for your own safety. I’m sorry.”

”But daddy, Elsa also hurt Anna and almost froze the entire kingdom, and yet they forgive each other because they love each other!” June pleaded, referencing Frozen. “Do you… do you not love mommy anymore?”

“Our flight number is being called, girls.” The nanny took them. “We should go.”

Lars stood up, processing June’s question. “Take care, girls.”

Did he not love Angela anymore? Maybe. He had already accepted that she would never be the woman she once was. Thinking about her hurt him too much. He almost committed suicide because of her betrayal one time. He didn’t want to even make their marriage work for the girls, for it’ll just hurt them in the long run.

Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, it was supposed to be steady. Safe.

However when he returned back to the Bureau’s New York headquarters, why did his heart beat fast when a random number called him?

”Hello, are you Lars Douglas?”

“Yes, who’s speaking?”

“Hi this is from the NYC Health and Hospitals, you are listed as the emergency contact of Angela Douglas. We are calling to inform you that she has suffered from an overdose on benzodiazepine…”

He wasn’t supposed to care about her anymore. They were over. SOMBRA was over.

But why did he immediately run to the hospital so fast once he got the call?

He wished that this was some kind of sick joke, that it was all some kind of nightmare, but it was not. The broken pieces that he had struggled to fix for the past few months had crumbled all over again once the doctors told him that Angela had fallen into a coma due to her attempt, and they didn’t know if she would ever wake up.

Oh god, the girls. How can he explain this to his daughters? He last told them that they might never see her again… 

A sob bubbled up his throat as he entered the hospital room and found Angela unconscious and hooked to various monitors. He hated how he still held her hand, crying, mourning for her and the woman she once was. He wanted to be mad, yell at her for trying to leave him, to leave them like this…

But he looked around the dreary place. He was all alone. He was the one listed as her emergency contact. Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into the morning… nobody else came for her. Her parents were dead. Her SOMBRA comrades either were in jail, in therapy, or dead. The Bureau hates her for trying to kill them and for denouncing Dupont. He was the only one that came for her, and even he had plans to leave her too.

She had no one left. 

Thinking about it, it would be a truly somber end to one’s existence. What she did was wrong and he hated her for it. But once upon a time, he believed that she had a good heart, and it was one of the reasons why he fell in love with her. However, fate had been cruel to her and took away her parents from her at such a young age, causing her to fall into SOMBRA’s clutches.

If Lars had to choose, he would rather have her live a life with her parents instead of her meeting him.  Maybe then the world wouldn’t have tainted her perspective so bitterly. 

Once he got back to the Bureau, he immediately threw away the divorce papers and canceled the meeting with his lawyer. The more he thought about it, the more that he felt his every step to Marina’s office become heavier.

He recalled the time she first got arrested and when he confronted her for answers. She told him her parents died when she was eight. Even if she had told him that she had chosen this, that she chose to be loyal to SOMBRA… He wanted to be naive. Deep inside, he felt that she secretly didn’t want this. She was a recruit, just like the other kids that suffered at the hands of SOMBRA. She was also a victim of the harsh cycle of violence they perpetuated.

He hated how this had to happen in order for him to realize all of this.

“You want me to petition the court to release all the SOMBRA recruits and instead subject them to a stay at a psychiatric hospital, including Angela?” Marina clarified to the scientist, baffled. “I can probably understand the others, but she almost killed Jonah, she almost killed us, Lars… do you really want that?”

“I don’t believe she wanted to do that either…” Lars sighed.

”Maybe you’re just feeling this way because she had attempted. It’s valid to feel this way, but it’s not your fault. That was her choice to make -“

“I know it’s not my fault! It’s SOMBRA’s fault!” He didn’t mean to snap at Marina. He didn’t know why he was still defending her, but she deserved to have someone in her corner for once. Like how she did for him all this time. “She told me SOMBRA took her in when she was eight… Did you know that?! We’ve seen how it affected children like Sanjay and Mei many times! Why would she be any different?!”

”But -“ Marina looked at Lars like he was crazy. “I-I’ll… think about it, okay?”

He left Marina’s office, dejected. He knew her betrayal was hard on everyone, but sometimes it felt like he was the only one that cared. It was like everyone accepted that Angela was a horrible person and they couldn’t change that. 

Soon, weeks turned into a month, and finally they had finished all of the documents and forensic evidence to take down SOMBRA. The Bureau was over. However the more that time passed by, the less likely was the chance for Angela to wake up again.

All of them were celebrating, but Lars wasn’t in the mood to. While a part of him held onto the hope that maybe she was still alive, he couldn’t stop thinking about their last exchange. The harsh words he had last imparted to her, how he had told her that he never wanted to see her ever again…

They had a vow. ‘Til death do us part. But why did their parting words to each other stung more than death itself?

”Hey.” Carmen approached him along with Marina, holding a champagne glass. “I heard about what happened to Angela… I’m sorry.”

“Carmen and I were just talking about it, and… you’re right.” Marina met his gaze. “All of the recruits deserve a second shot at life. Including Angela.”

That night, he and the two women visited her once again. Even if forgiveness was still hard, they all vowed to give her a second chance at life. She deserved to live again.

Maybe he was just holding on to the idea of her. But deep down, he wanted to try to make that idea possible, even for a little.

Even though he promised to the triplets that he was going to go back home, he had to stay in New York for a little while longer, helping Marina with the petition. He didn’t want to leave Angela alone. He stayed with Jack for a while, even though the latter was opposed to his decision, thinking that she got what she deserved. But to him, it was not what she deserved. 

He visited her everyday, constantly leaving white, yellow, and blue tulips in her hospital room. He knew how much she loved tulips. It represented hope, rebirth, and life. He wanted to give life to her dreary hospital room. He wanted to wish all the best for her.

Jack tried to get him to move on. He tried convincing Lars to try dating apps, that there was more to life outside Angela. There was a point where he almost gave in, that maybe after all this time there was a chance that she didn’t love him anymore. But Lars didn’t feel like falling in love again if it wasn’t with her. 

However, he couldn’t stay forever. He had a promise to the triplets. But before he went back to Australia, he had to do something. 

Ever since her attempt, Lars had hired a private investigator to investigate her life in SOMBRA. He wanted to do everything he could to make sure Angela could go back to her normal life eventually. But according to the investigator, nothing in her life was ever normal.

Being more used to hot climates, he wasn’t used to the chilly breeze that greeted him in South Korea. He held a piece of paper in his hand, traipsing along the steps of Busan Correctional Facility.’

After some time, he sat inside a booth. In front of him was a woman, who was supposedly his in-law. Angela’s ‘mother’ who was part of SOMBRA. He knew he had to confront them at some point in his life.

”Oh, so you’re that guy that Angela decided to marry…”. Her lips pursed into an annoyed frown. “See, I knew that she made the wrong choice. At least with us, her future was secure. She was supposed to join a multi-million pharmaceutical company under us once she graduated, but no, she chose you. Ever since you came into her life, she has become a failure.”

“But you’re also forgetting that while we were married, she had become a renowned scientist with a Nobel Prize. And she did it all with her own talent and effort. Without you.” He didn’t like how her own supposed ‘mother’ put her down like that.

”Oh, but she lost it anyway because she became sloppy with the Bureau, no? I’ve been telling her father that he should’ve just killed her the moment she said she was going to marry you. She was never going to survive.”

”No, fuck you!” Lars wasn’t one to curse, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “It was because of you she became like this! If you didn’t force her to do things she didn’t want to do, then maybe she wouldn’t be in a coma right now! You didn’t care about her, you just wanted her for your own selfish gain!”

He spat out a bunch of other expletives at the woman. The guards had to pull him out because of his outburst. He sat outside the steps and cried.

 She told him that she disobeyed SOMBRA one time, and that one time was to marry him.

She fought for him. She fought to keep their family safe, away from the clutches of SOMBRA. From getting him out of that chimney when they first met, to saving him from his near death experience by finding the cure to the plague�� All this time, she was fighting for him.

This time, he wanted to be the one to fight for her. 

While he had to go back to Australia for the triplets, he was overcome with joy when Marina called to tell him that the petition had passed. Angela could finally heal.

Eventually, he told the triplets the whole story about their mother’s situation. He had only explained bits of it to them during video calls. Now that he was finally with them, he was able to sit them down and tell them everything. 

“Is mommy going to die?” April asked, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

”I don’t know, girls… it’s been a year, and I’ll be honest….”  He didn’t want to say it, but a part of him had to accept it so it won’t hurt much once it happened. “…her chances of waking up are slim.”

“I want to see her, daddy!” June cried. “I want to see mommy!”

“She already left us, June!” May was angry, but a part of her was hurt as well. “It’s… it’s been a long time…”

”Hey, girls, it’s alright to feel what you’re feeling right now. But no matter what happens to your mother, just know that she’s there, watching over all of us every step of the way, like a guardian angel.”

 He hugged his daughters as they all cried together. They had various shades of anger, hurt, and confusion written on their faces, but they still mourned.

Thankfully, things got better.

3 years later, Lars had gotten the news that Angela had finally woke up. He immediately requested for her transfer to a psychiatric hospital nearby in Australia so that he could visit her.

He also sought help, both for him and the triplets. The past few years had all taken a heavy toll on their mental health, and he wanted to make sure that they were all going to be okay. 

Once he had heard that Angela had finally been transferred, he wanted to see her, but the hospital didn’t allow him to. So as a coping mechanism, his therapist suggested for him to send letters for her to read. And so he did, even writing her various prose and random lyrics whenever he thought about her. He even put in random drawings and letters that the triplets made. Some were corny, some were profound, but he wanted to show her that she was loved.

A year later, he was finally allowed to visit her. Her therapist thought that this would be best for her healing. Their reunion was filled with a lot of tears, but deep in his heart he had forgiven her for everything. He accepted her for all that she was, the good and the bad.

“Hey.” He greeted her with a smile as she got discharged from the psychiatric hospital after 7 years, holding a bouquet of yellow tulips. “This is for you.”

“Y-you didn’t have to…” Angela blushed as she accepted the bouquet.

“No, I wanted to.” He pulled her closer as they walked over to their car. This time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

The first few minutes of the ride back home were silent, not until Angela spoke up. “Lars…”

”Hmm?”

”I truly am sorry for everything… and thank you for staying with me.” She looked away as she felt her eyes sting with tears.

Lars didn’t say anything until they had encountered a stoplight. His eyes may still be on the road, but his free hand crept to hers as he held it. “You don’t have to say sorry or thank you anymore. Just know that I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Because as people change, love grows into a steady space, ready to withstand whatever the world throws at it. 

No matter what happens, love will always be steady. It will always be safe.

[morbidology]

The small village of Bennington, Vermont, is an unlikely scene for a missing person mystery. Nevertheless, between 1945 and 1950, five people inexplicably vanished. The disappearances involves a variety of victims including an 8-year-old and a 74-year-old. Arguably, one of the most infamous missing person from the area was Paula Jean Welden; her disappearance led to the formation of the Vermont State Police.

18-year-old Paula was an art student at Bennington College. On the afternoon of the 1st of December, 1946, Paula told a friend she was going for a stroll along the “Long Trail” which was a woodland hiking trail. It runs for more than 270 miles until it reaches the Canadian border. The Long Trail was an extremely popular walking spot but Paula hadn’t yet got a chance to check it out. On the aforementioned afternoon, she tried to get some friends to join her; unfortunately, they all declined. Nevertheless, Paula got dressed and made her way to the trail. She didn’t bring a backpack or a change of clothes - she was only going to be gone a short while, she planned. The last time she was ever seen was when she stopped to ask another hiker a few questions about the trail.

When Paula didn’t return home that night when her roommate went to bed, she just assumed that she was out studying. Her nonchalant attitude turned to worry when she woke up the next morning and Paula still hadn’t returned. A search party was assembled and the hikers who had spotted her along the Long Trail came forward after seeing her photograph in the paper. The search party then focused along the Long Trail, assuming she had got lost but to no avail. While there were hundreds of volunteers, the search was hampered due to the fact that there was no statewide law enforcement agency in Vermont.

A suspect came to light when a man who claimed he saw Paula hiking changed his story several times. He was said to have had an argument with his girlfriend before storming off into the Long Trail. He was a suspect once again several years later when he told a couple of people he knew where Paula was buried. He fobbed this off as a joke, though, and no evidence against him could be found. Eventually the case went cold and the whereabouts of Paula still remains unknown. A couple of months after her disappearance, the Vermont State Police was assembled.

[fructo]

OKAY, LISTEN. I've only gotten through about half of the first season of Suits (my weak little heart cannot handle it yet) AND I'VE SEEN SO MUCH content on tumblr, especially for deleted scenes

Idk it just makes me wanna splurge AGAIN and buy the complete series on DVD. I know I had waited until I watched White Collar all the way through to buy the complete series on DVD but I'm enjoying Suits in the same way (so far; the dynamic between Peter and Neal is SO DIFFERENT between Mike and Harvey)

At the same time, logically, I know, I should be saving that money but my itty bitty geeky heart and brain needs my silly attorney show. It doesn't help that I really wanna major in criminology so I need to consume all of the wildly inaccurate media portrayals of law agencies and law enforcement agencies I possible can (this isn't the reason why I wanna major in criminology, I'm joking about that part)

anyways thanks for listening HAHA

[ejzah]

A/N: Here’s my little Whumptober offering for this year. As usual, I’ve gone with a light topic for this one. Takes place post series finale. For the purpose of this story, both Kensi and Deeks have retired from NCIS and fieldwork.

***

No Matter How Far You Run, We’ll Draw You Back Again

“Well, first we’re going to change your diapers, then mommy’s going to feed you, and then we’re going to go for a walk. And, if we’re lucky, sissy is going to come for dinner,” Deeks explained as he secured the sides of Caleb’s diaper. “What do you think we should have?” He directed this question at Sophia, who was kicking away in the little bassinet attached to the side of the changing table.

“Ha!” she exclaimed in response.

“I agree,” Deeks said conversationally. “Potatoes would be nice.”

“Ooh, what gourmet dishes are we planning?” Kensi asked, coming up behind him, and resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked down on the twins.

“Mmmmaaaa,” Caleb cooed, excitedly waving his hand in Kensi’s direction.

“Hi sweetie.” Kensi closed her fingers around his fist, shaking it hard enough to make him giggle. She turned to Sophia then, kissing her tones, and the little girl let out a truly impressive string of sounds.

“And there we go,” Deeks announced, hefting a baby under each arm, and spun them in half circles, resulting in another round of giggles. When they were done, he unlatched Caleb’s sharp little nails from his t-shirt, presenting him to Kensi with a flourish. “Two squeaky clean kiddos, which will last for approximately 1-3 hours.”

“Thanks, baby. “Next round is on me,” Kensi said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “So, what are we having for dinner?”

“Well, Caleb has some interesting ideas about coq au vin, but I’m not sure we have time for it.”

“You’re quite the chef,” Kensi told Caleb, going along with the joke.

“Baaaa,” Caleb replied, determinedly tugging at the front of Kensi’s shirt.

“And of course, you’re hungry again.” She sighed good-naturedly, adjusting her top so Caleb could nurse.

Balancing Sophia in one arm, rocking back and forth. Just the other day, she’d figured out how to clap, and had been entertaining herself with the new skill whenever it struck her fancy. Right now she kept an enthusiastic, if uneven beat to Deeks’ rhythm.

“You want me to watch this one, or start on dinner?” he asked Kensi.

“Dinner,” Kensi replied without a second thought. “I can handle these two.”

“All right.” He turned Sophia to face him, giving her a mock scowl. “No prison breaks, you hear me missy?” She giggled at his expression, tugging at his beard with her little fingers.

***

Deeks had just gotten started on cutting up some veggies, when his phone buzzed in his pocket with an incoming call. He checked the number, didn’t recognize it, and resumed his previous task, dumping a pile of diced potatoes, onions, and peppers into a pan.

His phone started ringing again less than a minute later with the same number. Frowning, he accepted the call.

“Hi, this is Marty,” he answered cautiously.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Deeks, this is the Director of the FBI along with NCIS Director Leon Vance,” a smooth male voice responded. “I was hoping you’d have some time to talk.”

“Um, honestly, I was just about to start dinner,” Deeks answered, falling on humor to cover his surprise. These days the number of calls he got from any federal agency aside from the IRS was minimal.

“We’ll try not to keep you too long. I know you have a family waiting for you,” Director Vance spoke up, clearing his throat pointedly.

“Of course,” the FBI director agreed, appeasing Vance, Deeks thought. “Well, to get straight to the point, our agency has been following a human trafficking ring for the last year. This particular ring has grown over the years, but it’s come to a head recently.”

Deeks felt his stomach clench unpleasantly at the mention of trafficking. In all his years in law enforcement, dealing with those cases had been some of the very worst.

“We’ve attempted to infiltrate this ring many times, with subpar results,” the director continued on, oblivious to Deeks’ inner turmoil. “Unfortunately, time is not on our side. We recently received a tip that several hundred children and women are being transported in the next few weeks. That’s when your name came up.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little more explicit, Sir,” Deeks said, even though he was certain where this conversation was heading.

“Former Deputy Director Ochoa mentioned you’re skilled in undercover work, and a review of your history with NCIS confirmed that to be true. I think you’d be perfect for this job.”

“You do recall the part where I have six month old twins at home, right?” Deeks asked facetiously. He didn’t think for a moment that the Director hadn’t completely vetted him and combed through his and Kensi’s lives meticulously. A bitter feeling settled heavily in his stomach at the thought. “Not to mention I retired from active fieldwork last year.”

“Yes, we’re aware,” Vance said, sounding strained and maybe a touch irritated. Deeks wondered how much say he’d had in this entire venture. If the FBI had gone over his head to ensure his cooperation.

Deeks had expected the topic of fieldwork to be officially shelved, not to be on the receiving end of a call from the directors of NCIS and the FBI asking him to return for what sounded like a highly dangerous mission.

“Yes, yes, my belated congratulations to you and Agent Blye,” the FBI director added on hastily. “Though I’m sure they could spare you for a few weeks for a good cause.”

“With all due respect, why not use another, active agent? There’s half a dozen that come to mind right now.” He didn’t envy anyone who was tasked with the job.

“Your persona, Max Gentry, would be a perfect fit for this role,” the Director explained, and Deeks’ lip curled at the mention of an alias he’d come to hate. “And, to be perfectly honest, you’re the best agent for the job. You fit the profile, you have the skills, and you know to speak to these kinds of people. After reading through your file, I don’t know that I’ve seen a better operator when it comes to undercover roles. It’s truly impressive.”

“You can cut down on the flattery, Director,” Deeks said, now without any politeness. “I know my talents. I was good at my job. When it was my job. Now I’m a father, husband, and lawyer and I’d like to think I’m pretty fantastic at those too. I’m not prepared to jeopardize any of that.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone, and Deeks wondered if he’d stunned the Director by not immediately capitulating.

“I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation. These are children, like your twins. Imagine someone taking them in a few years. Or your wife,” the Director pressed, his tone telling Deeks he knew exactly what he was doing. Deeks flinched at the mention of the twins and Kensi. “You’ve dealt with this before. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep knowing that these kids are out there, being sold and abused? That they may never see their families again?”

Deeks clenched his jaw, beyond angry at the blatant manipulation, and even more so that the Director was right. When there were kids involved, hell when there was anyone vulnerable being mistreated, he found it hard to stand idly by.

“I’m going to need more details before I commit to anything,” Deeks decided reluctantly. He hated himself for giving, almost as much as he was quickly growing to dislike the Director.

“Of course, Investigator.” He could almost hear the SECNAV’s satisfaction through the phone.

“Let me be perfectly clear; I still don’t like this. My priority is my family and if I don’t think that your operation is sound and capable of actually shutting down this trafficking ring as well as saving the victims, then I will not be a part of it,” Deeks said firmly. “I won’t be used as a pawn in some game or to gain you a gold star.”

“We understand,” Vance replied before the Director could. “I think that’s a perfectly reasonable request given the importance of the case. Rest assured that I will be involved every step of the way should you decide to assist us.”

“Yes, we appreciate that, Leon,” the Director replied, not sounding too pleased by at all. “We’ll expect your decision in two days, Deeks.”

“Right. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late and I have a hungry family waiting.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule,” Vance said, and he actually sounded like he meant it. “Tell Ms. Blye hello for me.”

“Sure thing.” A moment later, the call was over, and Deeks carelessly set his phone to the side. Turning to face the counter, he braced his elbows on the surface, burying his face in his hands.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

***

A/N: I couldn’t confirm who the current NCIS director is, so I just went with Vance before I went crazy searching for answers. Part 2 to follow.

[dertaglichedan]

Philippine VP publicly threatens to have president assassinated

VP Sara Duterte said she had contracted an assassin 

The assassin is contracted to kill if Duterte is killed 

Duterte is the daughter of former President Rodrigo Duterte

MANILA, Philippines (AP) — Philippine Vice President Sara Duterte said Saturday she has contracted an assassin to kill the president, his wife, and the House of Representatives speaker if she herself is killed, in a brazen public threat that she warned was not a joke.

Executive Secretary Lucas Bersamin referred the “active threat” against President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. to an elite presidential guards force “for immediate proper action.” It was not immediately clear what actions would be taken against the vice president.

The Presidential Security Command immediately boosted Marcos’ security and said it considered the vice president’s threat, which was “made so brazenly in public,” a national security issue.

The security force said it was “coordinating with law enforcement agencies to detect, deter, and defend against any and all threats to the president and the first family.”

Marcos ran with Duterte as his vice-presidential running mate in the May 2022 elections and both won with landslide victories on a campaign call of national unity. Israel ambassador nominee Mike Huckabee: Hostages must be released

The two leaders and their camps, however, rapidly had a bitter falling-out over key differences, including in their approaches to China’s aggressive actions in the disputed South China Sea. Duterte resigned from the Marcos Cabinet in June as education secretary and head of an anti-insurgency body.

Like her equally outspoken father, former President Rodrigo Duterte, the vice president became a vocal critic of Marcos, his wife Liza Araneta-Marcos and House Speaker Martin Romualdez, the president’s ally and cousin, accusing them of corruption, incompetence and politically persecuting the Duterte family and its close supporters.

*** Keeping it spicy in the Philippines...

[max1461]

Oh right I was thinking about this the other day. What if one day, with no warning, congress unanimously passed a law making it illegal to take a shit. And all the congress people seemed otherwise normal, showed no signs of mental illness or duress. When asked by the press why in the world they passed this law, they just waffled and deflected and said something something about the will of the American people. Obviously the three letter agencies are on high alert after this, worrying it's the result of some kind of plot to undermine the nation. They send agents to investigate and follow all congress people, but they find nothing. The news media is baffled. Everyday people are even more baffled, some think it's some kind of joke being played on them and others think it's part of a conspiracy. Everyone expects the president to veto the bill. But when it goes across his desk, he signs it. Something something the will of the American people.

What do you think would happen? Would the law be enforced? Certainly not. It would go to the supreme court. Everyone would be on high alert, hoping they don't approve it. The CIA would make it clear they better not. Well guess what.

Many investigations are launched, but they're all inconclusive. As far as anyone can tell, these people just genuinely thought it was a good law. Obviously none of these people will be re-elected, but the next election is over a year away. What happens in the mean time? This is a serious question.

[sunder-the-gold]

Taking a posthumous look at Durrenmatt, Vermeil's benefactor and Executor's client

All information about this NPC can be found in 'Survival Notarization' from [Operational Intelligence], as well as Vermeil's archive files and voice lines.

The Sankta named Dürrenmatt began and ended his long life in Laterano.

We do not know how long he lived within the city before leaving it. We do not know if he plied his trade as mechanic within Laterano, or abroad.

We do know that at some point, Dürrenmatt threw his law-abiding life away to pursue revenge. Among his crimes, he shot at least one person dead. Either he did not use a Patron Firearm, or he did not shoot another Sankta, because he had no horns or tail.

Either to enact his revenge or simply to avoid arrest, Dürrenmatt left Laterano and apparently did not return until the end of his life. In this way, he evaded the Notarial Hall's law-enforcers.

By the time that Dürrenmatt became an old man, he came to rue his life choices.

Vermeil

Afterwards, while passing through a stretch of Siracusan wilderness, Dürrenmatt found and took pity on a dying young Vulpo girl.

"How could I look past a respected colleague, short one arm and lying in a pile of her own guts next to a big old tusker?"

A tuskbeast (presumably a boar) either surprised Vermeil or exceeded her expectations. While she managed to kill it herself, it mortally wounded her.

If Dürrenmatt did not exaggerate, then he had impressive medical abilities, to put Vermeil's bowels back in her stomach and also to amputate her ruined arm in that condition without killing her.

Just as impressive, before she recovered enough to walk again, the former mechanic managed to design and manufacture a new mechanical arm for Vermeil, from scratch.

Rhodes Island could not find another model like it anywhere, so he did not purchase it. We do not know the extent to which he purchased pre-made components or fabricated everything himself. Possibly in a cave, with a box of scraps.

When Vermeil awoke, Dürrenmatt introduced himself with an alias and lied about being a hunter like her. Vermeil saw through him, claiming that she didn't smell any dirt on him at all.

Never having seen a Sankta before, she remarked on the circle above his head and the wing-like things at his back. She made no mention of horns or tail.

After he showed her how to attach her new arm, she told him of her plans to seek revenge.

"Revenge, huh? Well, I can't decide your fate for you. But when you pull your bowstring with this arm, I hope you'll think about why it is we're alive, besides revenge. If you don't think enough, you might just end up like me.

"I don't want to hear you say 'I live for revenge.' That's too cliche. …Damn right. Totally played out."

So he did not decide to help her on her quest for vengeance, and neither did he try to stop her.

But some time after that, before she finished achieving her revenge, she contracted Oripathy.

And perhaps for the childless old Sankta, that was the last straw. He could not bear to see her die before him.

So he returned to Laterano to do what he could for her.

Final Rites

Regarding his sentence, he told Executor, "Justice? Maybe what I did was justified, Mister, if the Notarial Hall could find it in their hearts to forgive me. But it still wouldn't be anything to cheer about. Honestly, it just makes life seem like a big joke."

Given that Vermeil claims to smell her benefactor's blood on his final letter to her, and that we know he died in Lateran custody, it stands to reason that he received a death sentence for his crimes.

Yet it also seems that the Notarial Hall excused some of his crimes, and deemed him fit to have the time and agency to decide what to do with his legal possessions. As well as to hear and accept a final request.

"The above is my last will and testament in its entirety. However, I have one final, selfish request. In the forests of Siracusa, I met a one-armed Vulpo girl. She had long walked a single-minded path of revenge. In my compassion, I gave her aid. While this might have hurt her pride, I found myself moved by her stubborn determination to survive. I later learned that the aid I gave her only strengthened her obsession with revenge, which left me uneasy. I want to give her all that I have. Sadly, that is very little. Only a few sad heirlooms."

"Pardon the interruption, but there is no Vulpo on your list of kin. This will make our work rather difficult."

"As such, this is but a petty request from a childless Laterano citizen on his deathbed."

///

To Vermeil, Executor would confirm, "He sold all of his property, paid a number of additional fees, including those of the Notarial Hall, as well as the costs of your future medical treatment."

"But, why? I'm just some girl from the forest…"

"He wants you to live."

"And I'm asking why!"

"Because he believed you deserve to live."

///

"Thank you for accepting my request."

"It was the Notarial Hall's decision. I am merely executing my duties."

"Hah, sure enough. And while you're looking for Vermeil, I have another little request."

"Depending on the nature of the request, I may reject your verbal appeal. I would prefer you submit it in written form to the Notarial Hall."

"You're a real hardass, huh? Doesn't matter. It's just a little thing. Don't tell her anything about my past, if you can. Make up some story. Tell I died on the operating table."

"I do not understand the need for this request. Nor does it fit with the truth. You fled the Notarial Hall's justice for many years, and you shot dead…"

"Enough. What if I told you doing it this way would save you a lot of trouble in getting your job done?"

"If in my judgment I agree with your assessment, I will consider your request."

///

"As the report states, the heir is fickle, slow to trust, and difficult to communicate with.

"If the object insists on rejecting her benefit, according to regulations, I am permitted to abandon the task. But the client and my superiors issued a subordinating clause. I must execute it.

"'Let Vermeil live.' As this is a rather broad request, executing it will be quite complicated. It is my hope that you cooperate."

///

"Please take good care of her, Mr. Executor. Really, it could be good for you, too. Don't give me that look. You know what I mean. Get her out of that mud hole. Don't let her end up like me.

"Her. She's my legacy, though. My hopes and dreams. May the Lord bless her and keep her."

[biryukzlodei-artblog]

Watch for the hands: 1. Throwing information into your controlled media that Russia is fighting with the help of North Korea and make it a fact for your controlled world part.

2. Get "a legitimate way" to throw another vassal (South Korea) into the war against Russia.

3. Repeat till Russia won’t fall or till vassals won’t end.

4. …

5. Profit.

Won’t work anyway. Nowhere else in the world are there such morons as the Ukrainians, who are ready to die en masse for the Americans and British. Like we are joking in Russia “Before only Russians knew that Ukrainians are idiots. Now the whole world knows about it.”

Choked with the Russian boot in the Kursk under Wales region.

"A Ukrainian citizen previously convicted of robbery and assault shot at deputy's assistant in the Moscow region; he was promised 20 million rubles for the murder, Russian law enforcement agencies reported."

Well, give me a rifle and send me into the US. I’m ready to shoot whole democratic party for free :3 I have no criminal record or connections to the Russian authorities. So after just call me a crazy Russian illegal immigrant who acted all by his own. Only I'm a bad shooter, unfortunately, so give me better a machine gun. Accuracy is not so important there.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

California to smash prison e-profiteers

On Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event for Red Team Blues at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

It’s a double-whammy that defines 21st century American life: a corporation gets caught doing something terrible, exploitative or even murderous, and a government agency steps in — only to discover that there’s nothing it can do, because Reagan/Trump/Clinton/Bush I/Bush II deregulated that industry and stripped the agency of enforcement powers.

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/2023/05/08/captive-audience/#good-at-their-jobs

Man, that feels awful. The idea that extremists gutted our democratically accountable institutions so that there’s nothing they can do, no matter how egregious a corporation’s conduct is so demoralizing. Makes me feel like giving up.

But the law is a complex and mysterious thing. Regulators aren’t actually helpless. There are authorities, powers and systems that the corporate wreckers passed over, failed to notice, or failed to neuter. Take Section 5 of the FTC Act, which gives the Commission broad powers to prevent “unfair and deceptive” practices. Since the 1970s, the FTC just acted like this didn’t exist, even though it was right there all along, between Section 4 and Section 6.

Then, under the directorship of FTC chair Lina Khan, Section 5 was rediscovered and mobilized, first to end the practice of noncompete “agreements” for workers nationwide:

https://mattstoller.substack.com/p/antitrust-enforcers-to-ban-indentured

A new breed of supremely competent, progressive regulators are dusting off those old lawbooks and figuring out what powers they have, and they’re using those powers to Get Stuff Done. It’s like that old joke:

Office manager: $75 to kick the photocopier?

Repair person: No, it’s $5 to kick the photocopier, $70 to know where to kick it.

There’s a whole generation of expert photocopier-kickers in public life, and they’ve got their boots on:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

This is the upside of technocracy — where you have people who are appointed to do good things, and who want to do good things, and who figure out how to do good things. There are dormant powers everywhere in law. Remember when Southwest Air stranded a million passengers over Christmas week and Transport Secretary Pete Buttigieg responded by talking sternly about doing better, but without opening any enforcement actions against SWA?

At the time, Buttigieg’s defenders said that was all he could do: “Pete isn’t the boss of Southwest’s IT department, you know!” He’s not — but he is in possession of identical powers to the FTC to regulate “unfair and deceptive” practices, thanks to USC40 Section 41712(a), which copy-pastes the language from Article 5 of the FTC Act into the DOT’s legislative basis:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The failures of SWA were a long time coming, and were driven by the company’s shifting of costs from shareholders to employees and fliers. SWA schedules many flights for which they have no aircraft or crew, and when the time to fly those jets comes, the company simply cancels the emptiest flights. This is great for SWA’s shareholders, who don’t have to pay for fuel and crew for half-empty planes — but it’s terrible for crew and fliers.

What’s more, selling tickets for planes that don’t exist is plainly unfair and deceptive. A good photocopier-kicker in charge of the DOT would have arrived with a “first 100 days” plan that included opening hearings into this practice, as a prelude to directly regulating this conduct out of existence, averting the worst aviation scheduling crisis in US history. That’s what Buttigieg’s critics wanted from him: a competent assessment of his powers, followed by the vigorous use of those powers to protect the American people.

One domain that’s been in sore need of a photocopier-kicker for years is prison tech. America (“the land of the free”) incarcerates more people than any nation in the history of the world — more than the USSR, more than China, more than Apartheid-era South Africa.

For corporate prison profiteers, those prisoners are a literal captive audience, easy pickings for gouging on telephone calls, books, music, and food. For years, companies like Securus have been behind an incredibly imaginative array of sadistic tactics that strip prisoners of the contact, education and nutrition that governments normally provide to incarcerated people, and then sells those prisoners and their families poor substitutes for those necessities at markups that cost many multiples of the equivalent services in the free world.

Think of prisons that reduce the amount of food served to sub-starvation levels, then sell food at high markups in the prison commissary. For prisoners whose families can afford commissary fees, this is merely extortion. But for prisoners who don’t have anyone to top up their commissary accounts, it’s literal starvation.

This is the shape of every prison profiteer’s grift: take something vital away and then sell it back at a massive markup, dooming the prisoners who can’t afford it. The most obvious way to gouge prisoners is by charging huge markups for phone calls. Prisoners who can afford to pay many dollars per minute can stay in touch with their families, while the rest rot in isolation.

In 2015, the FCC tried to halt this practice, passing an order capping the price of calls, but in 2017, the DC District Court struck down the order, ruling that the FCC couldn’t regulate in-state call tariffs, which are the majority of prison calls:

https://www.cadc.uscourts.gov/internet/opinions.nsf/0/C62A026B396DD4C78525813E004F3BC5/%24file/15-1461-1679364.pdf

This was a bonanza for prison profiteers. Companies like Jpay (now a division of Securus) cranked up the price of prisoners’ calls. At the same time, dark-money lobbying campaigns urged prisons to get rid of their in-person visitation programs in the name of “safety”:

https://www.mic.com/articles/142779/the-end-of-prison-visitation

Not just visitation: prisons shuttered their libraries and banned shipments of letters, cards and books — again, in the same of “safety.” Jpay an its competitors stepped in with “free tablets” — cheap, badly made Chinese tablets. Instead of checking out books from the prison library or having them mailed to you by a friend or family member, prisoners had to buy DRM-locked ebooks at many multiples of the outside world price (these same prices were slapped on public domain books ganked from Project Gutenberg):

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2018/07/24/no-cost-contract/

Instead of getting letters and cards from your family members and friends, you had to pay to look at scans of them, buying “virtual stamps” that had to accompany every page (they even charged by the “page” for text messages):

https://www.wired.com/story/jpay-securus-prison-email-charging-millions/

Enshittification is my name for service-decay, where companies that have some kind of lock-in make things worse and worse for their customers, secure in the knowledge that they’ll keep paying because the lock-in keeps them from leaving. When your customers are literally locked in (that is, behind bars), the enshittification comes fast and furious.

Securus/Jpay and its competitors found all kinds of ways to make their services worse, like harvesting recordings of their calls to produce biometric voice-prints that could be used to track prisoners after they were released:

https://theintercept.com/2019/01/30/prison-voice-prints-databases-securus/

Of course, once the prison phone-carriers started harvesting prisoners’ phone calls, it was inevitable that they would leak those calls, including intimate calls with family members and privileged calls with lawyers:

https://www.aaronswartzday.org/securedrop-prisoner-data/

Prison-tech companies know they can extract huge fortunes from their captive audience, so they are shameless about offering bribes (ahem, “profit-sharing”) to prison authorities and sheriffs’ offices to switch vendors. When that happens, prisoners inevitably suffer, as happened in 2018, when Florida state prisons changed tech providers and wiped out $11.8m worth of prisoners purchased media — every song prisoners had paid for:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

As bad as these deals are for prisoners, they’re great for jailers, who are personally and institutionally enriched by prison-tech giants. This is textbook corruption, in which small groups of individuals are enriched while vast, diffuse costs are extracted from large groups of people. Naturally, the deals themselves are swathed in secrecy, and public records requests for their details are met with blank, illegal refusals:

https://www.muckrock.com/news/archives/2018/may/25/laramie-county-prison-phones/

The “shitty technology adoption curve” predicts that technological harms that are first visited upon prisoners and other low-privilege people will gradually work its way up the privilege gradient:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

Securus powered up the Shitty Tech Adoption Curve. They don’t just spy on and exploit prisoners — they leveraged that surveillance empire into a line of product lines that touch us all. Securus transformed their prisoner telephone tracking business into an off-the-books, warrantless tracking tool that cops everywhere use to illegally track people:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/10/technology/cellphone-tracking-law-enforcement.html

In other words, our jails and prisons are incubators that breed digital pathogens that infect all of us eventually. It’s past time we got in the exterminators and flushed out those nests.

That’s where California’s new photocopier-kickers come in. Like many states, California has a Public Utility Commission (PUC), which regulates private companies that provide utilities, like telecoms. That means that the state of California can reach into every jail and prison in the state and grab the prison profiteers by the throats and toss ’em out the window.

Writing in The American Prospect, Kalena Thomhave does an excellent job on the technical ins-and-outs of calling on PUCs to regulate prison-tech, both in California and in other states where PUCs haven’t yet been neutered or eliminated by deregulation-crazed Republicans:

https://prospect.org/justice/2023-05-08-california-prison-phone-calls-free/

Thomhave describes how California’s county sheriffs have waxed fat on kickbacks from the prison-tech sector: “for example, the Yuba County Sheriff’s Office receives 25 percent of GTL/ViaPath’s gross revenue on video calls made from tablets.” Small wonder that sheriffs offices lobby against free calls from jail, claiming that prisoners’ phone tariffs are needed to fund their operations.

It’s true that the majority of this kickback money (51%) goes into “inmate welfare funds,” but these funds don’t have to go to inmates — they can and are diverted to “maintenance, salaries, travel, and equipment like security cameras.”

But limiting contact between prisoners and their families in order to pay for operating expenses is a foolish bargain. Isolation from friends and family is closely linked to recidivism. If we want prisoners to live productive lives after their serve their time, we should maximize their contact with the outside, not link it to their families’ ability to spend 50 times more per minute than anyone making a normal call.

The covid lockdowns were a boon to prison-tech profiteers, whose video-calling products were used to replace in-person visits. But when pandemic restrictions lifted, the in-person visits didn’t come back. Instead, jails continued to ban in-person visits and replace them with expensive video calls.

Even with new power, the FCC can’t directly regulate this activity, especially not in county jails. But PUCs can. Not every state has a PUC: ALEC, the right-wing legislation factory, has pushed laws that gut or eliminate PUCs across the country:

https://alec.org/model-policy/telecommunications-deregulation-policy-statement/

But California has a PUC, and it is gathering information now in advance of an order that could rein in these extractive businesses and halt the shitty tech adoption curve in its tracks:

https://docs.cpuc.ca.gov/PublishedDocs/Efile/G000/M478/K075/478075894.PDF

That’s some top-notch photocopier-kicking, right there.

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A prison cell. Behind the bars is the bear from the California state flag. There is an old-fashioned telephone headset near his ear, such that he appears to be making a call.]

[beardedmrbean]

A federal program has put millions of dollars of decommissioned military equipment into the hands of law enforcement departments across Indiana.

The 1033 Program transfers surplus military property — equipment officials say would otherwise be destroyed — to local, county and state agencies. These items obtained from the Law Enforcement Support Office of the Defense Logistics Agency include basic office furniture to the more visible MRAP armored vehicle.

Up to $7.6 billion in excess military property has been reallocated to roughly 9,000 police jurisdictions around the country since the program's inception in the 1990s.

Proponents of the 1033 program say it offers immense cost-savings to smaller police departments that file grants to acquire decommissioned property already bought and paid for by American taxpayers. Prior reporting by IndyStar found Johnson County shelled out an estimated $5,000 for an MRAP the government paid $733,000 when it was new.

Beech Grove PD has an armored vehicle:Here's what's inside it.

Debate wages about police using equipment meant for the U.S. military

Critics argue militarizing the police is blurring the lines of law enforcement — from 'protect and serve' to 'punish and intimidate.' A pair of studies published in the scientific journal Nature of Human Behavior found no evidence military gear used by police reduces crime.

Police officers operating armored vehicles in the Indianapolis area have received criticism both from the political left and right.

"Far right conservative here and this is an absolute joke," wrote one IndyStar subscriber last week after the city of Beech Grove revealed it received a BearCat through a federal grant. "The militarization of police departments is a huge issue. No way should local PD be trolling around in military surplus. If they can use it for you, then they can use it against you."

In the past, police departments have defended their use of armored vehicles by invoking officer safety. What was good enough to stop bullets from hitting U.S. soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan, they say, can be employed during SWAT situations in Indianapolis.

"There's backup steel maybe a half-inch thick behind the lights, the engine compartment, everything," said BGPD Sgt. Joe Garrison in describing the BearCat. "Nothing short of military-grade ammo would pierce this."

Police officer safety or surplus zeal:Military equipment in Indiana spurs debate

Millions in military surplus have been shipped to Indiana

More than $38.2 million in equipment, including firearms, scopes, night vision goggles and mine-resistant vehicles, have entered the Hoosier state.

IndyStar examined public data provided by the Law Enforcement Support Office to determine which agencies in Central Indiana have joined the 1033 program, what equipment they've requested, and the amount of money each item was valued at by the federal government at the time it was purchased.

The following is a list of items totaling more than $1.8 million shipped to 10 Central Indiana law enforcement agencies between September 1994 and October 2022, the last date of entry.

The list IndyStar examined is not a complete accounting of all items shipped from the federal government to Indiana law enforcement agencies. Property on the list falls under two categories: "controlled" and "non-controlled."

Controlled property refers to military items loaned from the Department of Defense, officials said, and includes small arms, demilitarized vehicles, aircraft and night vision equipment. When a law enforcement agency no longer wants an item of controlled property, it must be returned.

Non-controlled property refers to items that could be sold to the general public such as first-aid kits, office equipment, hand tools and sleeping bags. After one year, these items are removed from the LESO database and become the property of the law enforcement agency.

The majority of military surplus shipped to law enforcement agencies are non-controlled items, according to the DLA, which states that small arms weapons make up only 5% of what law enforcements receive.

Each item's cost, officials say, is what government agencies or military branches paid at the time the item was procured. Their current value is difficult to determine due to depreciation. It's also unknown whether the departments still have the items they received in most cases.

Avon Police Dept.

What did they request?

22 Automatic Pistols, .45 Caliber (initial purchase price: $58.71 each)

30 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $499 each)

11 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

Acquisition value: $17,779.62

Beech Grove PD

What did they request?

1 Combat / Assault tactical wheeled vehicle (initial purchase price: $150,000 total)

1 Utility truck (initial purchase price: $41,447 total)

Acquisition value: $191,447

Carmel Police Dept.

What did they request?

3 Image Intensifier / Night Vision devices (initial purchase price: $6,392 each)

8 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

Acquisition value: $20,280

Cumberland Police Dept.

What did they request?

2 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $749 each)

9 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $499 each)

5 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

2 Sights / Reflex (initial purchase price: $1,472.55 total)

Acquisition value: $8,151.55

Fishers Police Dept.

What did they request?

12 Automatic Pistols, .45 Caliber (initial purchase price: $58.71 each)

17 Illuminator IR laser sights for small arms (initial purchase price: $1,058 total)

7 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

Acquisition value: $2,728.52

Greenwood Police Dept.

What did they request?

1 Unmanned vehicle, Ground (initial purchase price: $77,060 total)

4 Armor, Transparent, Vehicular Windows (initial purchase price: $4,572.04 total)

1 Mine Resistant Vehicle (initial purchase price: $658,000 total)

Acquisition value: $739,632.04

IndyStar reached out to the Greenwood Police Department last week for more information about its unmanned vehicle and mine resistant vehicle but heard nothing back as of Wednesday.

IMPD

What did they request?

(Most of this stuff is looking pretty normal, but there's some yikes in there too)

4 duffel bags (initial purchase price: $79.80 total)

6 pairs of men's boots (initial purchase price: $150 total)

12 pairs of cold weather boots (initial purchase price: $153.69 total)

25 Bivy covers / sleeping bag covers (initial purchase price: $131.53 total)

50 pairs of cold weather gloves (initial purchase price: $10 total)

1 gym bench (initial purchase price: $500 total)

46 cold weather jackets (initial purchase price: $65.68 each)

3 extreme cold weather jackets (initial purchase price: $94.15 total)

12 modular sleep systems / sleeping bags (initial purchase price: $262.82 total)

6 mounted sights (initial purchase price: $38.52 total)

120 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $499 each)

8 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

336 Sight reflexes (initial purchase price: $2,226 total)

30 telescopes, straight (initial purchase price: $1,010 total)

Acquisition value: $65,968.91

Lawrence Police Dept.

What did they request?

1 Mine Resistant Vehicle (initial purchase price: $733,000 total)

10 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $499 each)

4 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

Acquisition value: $738,542

Marion County Sheriff's Office

What did they request?

1 Mine Resistant Vehicle (initial purchase price: $733,000 total)

31 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $499 each)

4 Rifles, 7.62 mm (initial purchase price: $138 each)

Acquisition value: $16,021

Metro School Dist. Pike TWP Police Dept, K-12

What did they request?

4 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price: $749 each)

4 Rifles, 5.56 mm (initial purchase price:$499 each)

Acquisition value: $4,992

[kiltedveteran]

Today we remember Doug Barney - End Of Watch - 1/17/2016

Officer Douglas Barney, 44, was killed in the line of duty on Sunday, January 17, 2016, while trying to question a man who seemingly had done nothing more than leave the scene of a traffic accident. An 18 year veteran police officer, Doug loved law enforcement and interacting with the community. Doug was perfectly suited to law enforcement, never able to sit perfectly still, always eager for something exciting, and relating to other people in a down-to-earth, sincere way.

Doug was born June 3, 1971 on a military base in Taiwan to Douglas Scott and Darlene Heinz Barney. Doug was raised in Anaheim, California, and worked at Disneyland as one of his first jobs. He attended Clara Barton Elementary School and Loara High School. He played water polo and was on the high school swim team. Just before his senior year, his family moved to Orem, Utah where Doug graduated from Orem High School. He loved the move to Utah and being able to ride dirt bikes daily in the hills behind his family home. After graduation Doug worked a series of jobs, mostly in the auto mechanics field like his father. He loved working on cars and raced his cars a couple of times at the old Bonneville Raceway.

Doug and his wife, Erika, grew up near each other in Anaheim and he liked to tell stories of how he had always had a crush on her. When Erika moved to Utah to attend BYU they continued their friendship and he tried his hardest to get her to commit to dating him (she had a habit of inviting her roommates along when he asked her out for pie.) In 1995 he showed up to her apartment unexpectedly and asked her to marry him. He asked again every day for several months until she finally accepted. Doug married Erika Gilroy on February 17, 1996 in his family home in Orem. Their marriage was later solemnized in the Jordan River Temple. Doug passed away one month before their 20th wedding anniversary.

After their wedding Doug told Erika that although he loved working on cars, it was a bit too lonely of a type of work for him. He didn’t like being underneath the cars by himself all day long and would tend to move around looking for conversations with other mechanics. He admitted to his wife that he had always wanted to be a police officer and, with her blessing, began applying with different agencies. Doug was hired as a corrections officer with the Salt Lake County Sheriff’s Office in December of 1998 and one year later was hired as a patrol officer. He worked primarily in Kearns and Magna, Taylorsville City, and Holladay City during his career. Doug earned a bachelor’s degree from the University of Utah by taking two classes a semester while working full time to support his family. His degree was in Sociology with a Criminal Justice certificate.

Doug was a devoted husband and father who loved spending time with his family and talking about them when he couldn’t be with them. He loved teaching his kids how to shoot guns, appreciate cars, and the basic approach to a few defensive control techniques. He loved music and listened to every conceivable type of music. For years he kept a cassette tape keyed up in his patrol car to Kenny Rogers’ Long Arm of the Law, which he would sing loudly when a prisoner seemed especially sulky on the way to jail. The end result was usually that they would come into the jail laughing together.

Doug was well known for his boisterous personality. He was larger than life in every way. He was very funny and was often able to diffuse a tense situation with a perfectly timed joke. It is very hard for a criminal to consider violence while laughing. Doug’s law enforcement brothers remember him for his signature greeting of, “hey, brotha!” or “hey, sista!”, and an almost knocking-the-wind-out pat on the back.

Doug struggled with bladder cancer and the side effects of treatments and surgeries for many years. He was frustrated by the time it took him away from work and from his family, but had an amazing ability to stay positive and upbeat and even lighthearted about the challenges. His only desire, always, was to be able to get back to work and to take care of his family. Doug will be forever missed.

RIP Doug. You are NEVER FORGOTTEN!

[tacticalhimbo]

if you want to hear how bad it is in florida:

democrats and republicans were on video dancing joyously to celebrate the end of the legislative session/season.

you know, the season where our government:

banned abortions starting at 6 weeks (prior to when someone knows they are pregnant), with supposed exceptions for incest/rape..m even though we have literally already seen cases where people have had to carry their effectively dead fetus to full term because the laws are vague and practicioners fear legal repercussions.

made it harder (than it already was) to sue insurance companies.

removed the requirement for training and certification in carrying a concealed firearm.

outlawed any and all gender affirming care for minors, in addition to removing insurance coverage for adults.

outlawed the use of pronouns that "do not correspond to the individual's sex assigned at birth" in public educational institutions (even with parental permission in cases of minors).

penalizes companies who consider environmental, social and governance (ESG) issues when making investment decisions. you know, caring about the environment and the lives of other people. how truly terrible (sarcastic).

created a special state guard that acts as a de facto law enforcement agency who responds to the governor. they can bear arms, make arrests, and can be mobilized for "threats to public safety” instead of only in states of emergency.

edit: hey! check it out! all y'all who called trans folk dramatic, these bills were just signed as an emergency law, meaning they are effective immediately in the state of florida:

making it illegal for a trans individual (or anybody who doesn't appear super masculine or feminine, truly) to use the "wrong bathroom". if you refuse to leave, you can be arrested and charged for it.

giving the state jurisdiction to remove children from "unsafe" environments when parents provide any gender affirmation.

making the public performance of "drag" and the usage of the wrong bathroom, especially in the presence of a minor, a serious sex crime. hm. totally not related to the last point or anything.

working to make it legal for any healthcare professional to deny care and service to anybody who does not fit their "moral and ethical" beliefs. which includes: women, bipoc, queer folk, non-christians, etc. oh! and they don't have to refer you to another care provider, either.

removing any diversity and equality presence from college campuses, meaning that even small things such as a queer club could lose the university funding from the state.

oh, and if that isn't enough, here's what seems to be on the fast track to passing within the next few months:

amending the death penalty laws to require only 8/12 jurors and to make it a recommended and/or automatic sentence for people charged with serious sex crimes.

bills that so broadly define healthcare that it would ban things like... breast cancer treatment, prostate cancer treatment, really anything that involves genitalia because "what if it involves a trans person"

rewriting textbooks in k-12 education to remove "critical race theory". you know, like mentioning the fact that rosa parks was a black woman protesting racial segregation when not moving from her seat in the bus. yes, these textbooks already exist. and yes, they put it as "because she was a woman didn't want to move".

oh! and not bills, but here are some sentiments shared in this "wonderful legislative session/season:

rep. randy fine openly called for the "eradication" of queer people on the government floor.

rep david borerro compared transitioning to suicide, stating that banning affirming care (and trans existence) would benefit everyone.

and there's even more! but yeah. no. this legislative session/season is something to celebrate. totally. 🙄

(oh, and this image is a joke. lest we forget the whistleblower's son who was swatted and arrested for posting a meme against the florida government. because how dare we express our distaste with the rampant fascism)

[nctafraid]

@havenforged​

It was in the wallet, ID showing that their victim was in the Marines. Kevin knew about the investigative services that were for the military, federal agencies that he was going to have to turn his investigation over to. Still, they knew they had to stay on the scene until NCIS showed up, him and Espo joining forces with Castle to annoy Beckett. 

He saw the truck out of the corner of his eye but didn’t stop his conversation as they continued, “Castle might be onto something here, I mean spontanous combusion can’t be ruled out.” It was a joke, trying to keep the mood light as he heard the footsteps of the other agency approaching.

He turned to face them, doing a double take as he saw her. “Kate?” He asked, almost unsure of himself. No it was her, his best friend since kindergarten. 12 years of Calthoic school together, she was there for all of his embarassing childhood moments. Telling her about his first kiss, how she helped get him ready for his first date, their awkward high school dances as he tried to intimidate any date Kate had. And then they lost touch, both of them growing up and moving their seperate ways. But it seemed that they almost had the same idea. Law enforcement. “You - you’re - wow it’s been a really long time.”