#remand prisoners

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"TWO PLEAD GUILTY TO THEFT CHARGES," Toronto Star. October 26, 1942. Page 2. ---- Walter Hazda and Henry Verrell pleaded guilty before Judge James Parker in county criminal court today to shopbreaking and theft, and were remanded until Nov. 2 for sentence. P.C. Frank Cater said that early on Sept. 27 he noticed suspicious movements in the Ulster club. Church St. "I entered by way of a back veranda," he went on, "and met Verrell as he emerged. I arrested him. "A few moments later I found Mazda hiding behind a door. On a table I found a screwdriver, a flashlight and various other tools. "I also found a big safe had been turned over on to some chesterfield cushions. One of the hinges had been sawn off, but the safe was not opened." he stated.

#toronto #county police court #shopbreaking #shopbreakers #theft #remand prisoners #caught in the act #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

[sapphia]

love how everyone on this website is like "the justice system's broken!" but they mean like, the US justice system. which is not a system that half of the userbase here actually live under

#lol just made an nz specific justice system tag that if i elaborated on i might get absolutely reamed for #but like the nz system is fucked in the opposite direction #there's no jail time and discounts are handed out freely but like there's a severe lack of rehabilitative measures #precisely because the rationale has been taken by judges to the extreme to hand out disproportionately light sentences #but because of that the supports aren't there and the opportunity for rehabilitation is actually more limited. #plus there is a lack of consequences and greater freedom for repeat offenders who would otherwise be more limited or removed from society #and it's used as an excuse to cost-cut and invest less into prisons/remand rehabilitative facilities #like our reformative justice system can be actually pretty good for people with ID/under IQ threshold for mens rea in terms of reform. #it's an example of something that works well and has good results #but the system as the whole is being screwed over by people who say “rehabilitation not punishment” doesn't mean removing all punishment #just for the sake of doing so #because in our current system prisons are still needed for rehabilitation #and if you want change you have to like actually reform the prisons too instead of releasing everyone on home detention #random vent not tagging this with anything

[jeronimoloco]

Parting Glances: Khalsa Crescent, home turned prison

Parting Glances: Khalsa Crescent, home turned prison

Once home to a huge naval base that stretched from the Causeway to Sembawang Road, Singapore’s rather sleepy northern coast seems set for a huge transformation. Work to build a much-anticipated rail transit system link to Johor Bahru is already underway and the signs are that the ground is already being prepared for a role as key component of the future Woodlands Regional Centre. The demolition…

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#Abandoned Buildings #Architecture #Changing Landscapes #DRC #Drug Rehabilitation Centre #Events #Forgotten Places #Khalsa Crescent #Khalsa Crescent Asian Quarters #Khalsa Crescent DRC #Khalsa Crescent Prison #Khalsa Crescent Remand Centre #Naval Base #Naval Base Police Force #Old Singapore #Parting Glances #Photography #Prisons #Rail Transit System #Rail Transit System Link to Johore #RTS #Sembawang Naval Base #Sikhs in Singapore #Singapore #Torpedo Depot #Torpedo Depot Coolie Lines #Torpedo Depot Lines #Vietnamese Refugees in Singapore #Woodlands #Woodlands North

[nakeddeparture]

Bridgetown, Barbados. Daniel Demetrius Allain got Elwood Watts to let him go. What’s up with that?

https://youtu.be/xisFi0x4dd4

Does Watts have a liking for bad boys or is there more to come? Naked!!

#Elwood watts #allain daniel Demetrius #naked departure #barbados #rape #robbery #burglary #escapee #Dodds prison #remand #Youtube

[alabs1]

JUST IN: Court Remands Medical Doctor In Ikoyi Prison Over Alleged Rape Of Minor

JUST IN: Court Remands Medical Doctor In Ikoyi Prison Over Alleged Rape Of Minor

A special offences and domestic violence court in Lagos has remanded Femi Olaleye, managing director of Optimal Cancer Care Foundation, in Ikoyi prison pending the fulfilment of his bail conditions. Olaleye was arraigned by the Lagos state government on Wednesday. The medical doctor pleaded not guilty to the two-count charge of defilement of a child and sexual assault by penetration. Details…

View On WordPress

#Court #Doctor #Ikoyi #Medical #Minor #Prison #Rape #Remand

[alabingo]

Professor cccused of assaulting her orderly remanded in prison

Professor cccused of assaulting her orderly remanded in prison

By our reporter| Professor Zainab Duke Abiola, arraigned for assaulting her orderly, Inspector, Teju Moses was on Friday remanded in the Suleja Custodial Centre by a Magistrate’s Court in Wuse, Abuja, the nation’s capital. Abiola was arraigned along with domestic aide Rebecca Enechido a day after their arrest. They were arraigned by the Chief magistrate court in zone 6 for the offenses…

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#Professor Zainab Duke Abiola Police Orderly remanded in prison

[xxblairexxss]

Pick me up (Part 1)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne

“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.

The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.

“Hello…?”

“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.

“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.

You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.

You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.

“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.

You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”

“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”

“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”

He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.

“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.

“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.

“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”

“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.

“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.

“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.

“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”

“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc blurb

[fatehbaz]

The government of Australia’s northeastern state of Queensland has stunned rights experts by suspending its Human Rights Act for a second time this year to be able to lock up more children.

The ruling Labor Party last month [August 2023] pushed through a suite of legislation to allow under-18s – including children as young as 10 – to be detained indefinitely in police watch houses, because changes to youth justice laws – including jail for young people who breach bail conditions – mean there are no longer enough spaces in designated youth detention centres to house all those being put behind bars. The amended bail laws, introduced earlier this year [2023], also required the Human Rights Act to be suspended.

The moves have shocked Queensland Human Rights Commissioner Scott McDougall, who described human rights protections in Australia as “very fragile”, with no laws that apply nationwide.

“We don’t have a National Human Rights Act. Some of our states and territories have human rights protections [...]. But they’re not constitutionally entrenched so they can be overridden by the parliament,” he told Al Jazeera. The Queensland Human Rights Act – introduced in 2019 – protects children from being detained in adult prison so it had to be suspended for the government to be able to pass its legislation.

---

Earlier this year, Australia’s Productivity Commission reported that Queensland had the highest number of children in detention of any Australian state. Between 2021-2022, the so-called “Sunshine State” recorded a daily average of 287 people in youth detention, compared with 190 in Australia’s most populous state New South Wales, the second highest. [...]

[M]ore than half the jailed Queensland children are resentenced for new offences within 12 months of their release.

Another report released by the Justice Reform Initiative in November 2022 showed that Queensland’s youth detention numbers had increased by more than 27 percent in seven years.

---

The push to hold children in police watch houses is viewed by the Queensland government as a means to house these growing numbers. Attached to police stations and courts, a watch house contains small, concrete cells with no windows and is normally used only as a “last resort” for adults awaiting court appearances or required to be locked up by police overnight. [...]

However, McDougall said he has “real concerns about irreversible harm being caused to children” detained in police watch houses, which he described as a “concrete box”. “[A watch house] often has other children in it. There’ll be a toilet that is visible to pretty much anyone,” he said. “Children do not have access to fresh air or sunlight. And there’s been reported cases of a child who was held for 32 days in a watch house whose hair was falling out. [...]"

---

He also pointed out that 90 percent of imprisoned children and young people were awaiting trial.

“Queensland has extremely high rates of children in detention being held on remand. So these are children who have not been convicted of an offence,” he told Al Jazeera.

Despite Indigenous people making up only 4.6 percent of Queensland’s population, Indigenous children make up nearly 63 percent of those in detention. The rate of incarceration for Indigenous children in Queensland is 33 times the rate of non-Indigenous children. Maggie Munn, a Gunggari person and National Director of First Nations justice advocacy group Change the Record, told Al Jazeera the move to hold children as young as 10 in adult watch houses was “fundamentally cruel and wrong”. [...]

---

[Critics] also told Al Jazeera that the government needed to stop funding “cops and cages” and expressed concern over what [they] described as the “systemic racism, misogyny, and sexism” of the Queensland Police Service.

In 2019, police officers and other staff were recorded joking about beating and burying Black people and making racist comments about African and Muslim people. The recordings also captured sexist remarks [...]. The conversations were recorded in a police watch house, the same detention facilities where Indigenous children can now be held indefinitely.

Australia has repeatedly come under fire at an international level regarding its treatment of children and young people in the criminal justice system. The United Nations has called repeatedly for Australia to raise the age of criminal responsibility from 10 to the international standard of 14 years old [...].

[MR], Queensland’s minister for police and corrective services, [...] – who introduced the legislation, which is due to expire in 2026 – is unrepentant, defending his decision last month [August 2023].

“This government makes no apology for our tough stance on youth crime,” he was quoted as saying in a number of Australian media outlets.

---

Text by: Ali MC. "Australian state suspends human rights law to lock up more children". Al Jazeera. 18 September 2023. At: aljazeera.com/news/2023/9/18/australian-state-suspends-human-rights-law-to-lock-up-more-children [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[coochiequeens]

This should not have taken so long

Trans women who have hurt or threatened women or girls will not be held in female prisons unless there are "exceptional" circumstances, new guidance states.

The Scottish Prison Service (SPS) policy follows a public outcry after a rapist was sent to a women's prison.

Isla Bryson raped two women while known as Adam Graham.

The Scottish Conservatives said the new policy was "subjective" and "unacceptable".

The latest figures show there were 23 trans prisoners in Scotland from January to March this year.

They included 19 trans women, seven of whom were in a women's prison, and four trans men - one of whom was in a male prison.

Under previous guidance drawn up in 2014, the prison service allowed prisoners to be placed in facilities matching their gender identity, rather than their sex at birth, providing accommodation that "best suits the person in custody's needs".

This was reviewed and in February, following the Bryson case, it was updated to say no newly convicted or remanded transgender prisoner with a history of violence against women would be housed in female prison facilities.

Under the new policy - which will come into force in February 2024 - a trans woman would not be allowed to move into the female estate if they had been convicted of, or were on remand awaiting trial for, a crime that harmed a female - unless there was "compelling evidence that they did not present an unacceptable risk of harm to those in the women's prison".

These offences include any that result in suffering to a female, such as sexual offences, murder, assault, abduction and intimidation.

Those who have changed their legal gender can also be housed in accordance with their sex at birth, "if it is considered necessary to support people's safety and wellbeing".

The policy states: "Only when staff have enough information to reach a decision that a trans individual can be safely accommodated will they be placed in an establishment which matches their affirmed gender."

Trans men will be admitted to the female estate, but those who have committed crimes against women may be kept separate from other prisoners if it is "deemed necessary" to "keep women in custody safe".

The new guidelines also allow officers to search inmates regardless of the inmate's "affirmed gender" or sex assigned at birth, "if it is necessary to keep the individual or staff safe".

Risks carefully managed'

Teresa Medhurst, chief executive of the Scottish Prison Service, said if a trans woman's offences were historic and low level, they could be moved to the female estate, but she stressed that would be exceptional.

She said all prisoners were "treated with dignity and respect, with their rights upheld, and any risks carefully managed".

"The position, whilst it is still individualised, will ensure that those that have a history of violence against women and girls and present a risk to women will no longer be placed on admission in the women's estate.

"I am content that everyone who is a transgender individual is located in the prison which best suits their risk and needs profile."

She added that she was confident the new policy would address public concerns surrounding trans prisoners.

The Scottish government's Justice Secretary Angela Constance said the new policy protected the "safety and welfare" of staff and prisoners, and the "rights of transgender people".

She said: "SPS has considerable expertise, as well as a duty of care for the management of people in their custody, and this policy upholds its responsibilities to deliver safe, secure and suitable services for all."

Scottish Conservative justice spokesman Russell Findlay MSP said the new prison policy was "unacceptable" and put women at "even greater risk by further eroding their fundamental right to single-sex space".

"They say that male prisoners with a history of violence against women or girls should be allowed in the female estate and will only be blocked if they present a risk, which is completely subjective."

Lucy Hunter Blackman, from policy analysts Murray Blackburn Mackenzie, said any new policy in Scotland should not "talk narrowly about the potential risk of a physical or sexual assault".

She added: "It needs to recognise how the presence of someone male might impact upon group of vulnerable traumatised women, held in spaces from which they cannot escape."

#UK #KeepPrisonsSingleSex #Scottish Prison Service (SPS)

[raz-writes-the-thing]

DW Prompt Drabble

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader (fluff)

Summary: sentence prompt drabble based off number 12 from this prompt list.

32. "What did you do?" / "Nothing you can't get me out of jail for!" / "Not again!"

Requests are: OPEN

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“What did you do?” The Doctor has his brow arched at you through the bars. He doesn’t look particularly impressed, but he also can’t quite hide the glint of amusement from you. You can see him trying not to split into a teasing smile despite himself. Oh, he knows it was something stupid all right, but just not what. 

“Nothing you can’t get me out of jail for!” You reply sheepishly, doing your best to avoid the question. When his brow arches just that little bit higher and he tuts at you, you know you’re going to have to spill. “I might have, uh, gotten a bit excited at the bar and-” You pinch the bridge of your nose, knowing exactly how this is about to play out. “Stolen someone’s prosthetic arm.” 

“Someone’s what?” The Doctor asks, jaw dropping open in pure shock. A laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it. “You stole someone’s arm?” 

“Listen,” you say, avoiding eye contact. “I- I thought it was a weapon. I thought I saw it start flashing like- shut up-” The Doctor starts howling with laughter now, holding onto one of the bars for support. “Like it was gonna explode or something,” you try to explain, an embarrassed grin starting to spread. You couldn’t help it, he was just so infectious. 

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, before adding- “Turns out it was just his watch alarm.” You knew how it sounded, how absolutely ridiculous but when you travel with the Doctor, you begin to wonder if ordinary things are in fact ordinary things after all. 

The Doctor wipes a tear from his eye, doubling over with no signs of stopping. You’re not sure how being so loud is going to keep him from being discovered and remanded into custody too for breaking a prisoner out, but it’s whatever. The two of you always managed a miraculous escape somehow. 

“Not again,” he wheezes, trying to get ahold of himself. “I can’t always be coming around to save you.” 

You roll your eyes and come over to the bars, poking his side through them as best you can reach. He gives you a quick little “oi” and moves out of the line of fire.

“Yeah, look- we both know what I’m like. The odds are that this won’t be the last time you have to get me out of something,” you take a second to think. “Though hopefully, it’ll be the last time for stealing an innocent man’s arm.” 

The Doctor gums at his lips for a moment to stop himself from starting all over again, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you’d have to get moving.

“Alright, look- can you unlock the gate now, Spaceboy?” 

“Hey, that’s Spaceman, thank you.” The Doctor pulls out his screwdriver and unlocks the door for you, shaking his head amusedly and gesturing for you to take the lead.

“After you, you little thief,” he sticks his screwdriver back into his coat pocket and looks in the direction he wants you to go. Presumably towards the exit. You just know he’s never going to let you live this down. 

“You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?” You ask, taking off with him following close behind. 

“Oh, no,” he replies enthusiastically. “Never!”

#david tennant #doctor who x reader #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who #doctorwho #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #david tennant x reader #10th doctor #10th doctor x y/n #10th doctor x you #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x y/n #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who x you #ten x reader #ten x y/n #ten x you #the doctor #the doctor x y/n #the doctor x you #the doctor x reader #david tennant doctor #dt doctor #allons-y #fluff

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“WILLIAM BOYD WAS REMANDED,” Hamilton Spectator. March 20, 1931. Page 7. ---- Trial On Serious Charge Delayed For Day ---- Adjournment Also Made in Manslaughter Case --- All major cases brought before Magistrate Burbidge in police court this morning were adjourned till future dates, either at the request of the crown or defense lawyers William Boyd, 120 Charles street, apartment held on a serious charge, was remanded for one day. Florence Buchan, the material witness in the case, was also held over for one day. Miss Buchan, by the way, does not reside at 76 Catheart street, as reported when the case was first called. 

Howard Stewart, Jarvis, and Mary Whiteman, 613 James street south, who are under charges of manslaughter as a result of the death of Elsie Hoover, Cayuga who succumbed from the effects of an illegal operation, were both remanded for one week. Wilhemina Cressy, 42 Wallace avenue, who is charged with perjury for giving alleged false evidence in securing a marriage license, also received a delay of one week.

Vagrancy and Liquor Charges George Povich, 209 Beach road, and Michael Zap, who are faced with vagrancy charges as a result of a weird poker game they operated, were granted an adjournment of one week. 

Frank Gardener, Aldershot, and Gladys Bonduro, 30 Inchbury street, who are held on nominal charges of vagrancy, were remanded until Monday. 

Nick Shurkham. 476 Hughson street north: Peter Kolin, and Kasimiels Slazenski, 232 Hughson street north. All charged with possessing liquor illegally, were remanded until the liquor session on Tuesday morning.

Gambled on Sabbath  Lyell Galoski and Fred Galoski, 28 Whitfield avenue; Edward Witrick, 34 Whitfield avenue, and Nick Mack, 1425 Barton street east, each paid $10 for gambling at the Galoski residence on Sunday. 

Family Squabble Andrew Bingham, no address, was charged by his wife with non-support, and he was ordered to pay 20 per cent. of all his earnings into the court for her keep. When Bingham was asked by the magistrate how much it was worth to pay his wife to keep out of jail, the accused didn't answer. Then his worship asked the man if he would pay his wife or if he would rather go to jail. 

Bingham said: "I'd rather be hung.” Then the crown attorney hastily Informed the accused if he wished a hanging sentence he'd have to go to the other court. 

Aggravated Assault Harry Trimmins, 15 Dalewood crescent, was committed for trial on an aggravated assault charge preferred by his wife, Vera. Mrs. Trimmins on the stand gave a long account of his alleged ill-treatment of her.

#hamilton #police court #remand prisoners #serious charge #illegal operation #manslaughter #operation #history of birth control #criminalizing vagrancy #liquor charge #illegal gambling #regulation of morality #marriage ceremony #non-support #no fixed address #alimony #great depression in canada #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #intimate partner violence

[dailyanarchistposts]

I am currently detained in an Israeli jail, the result of refusing to attend or cooperate with criminal charges laid against me and two others for joining Palestinian protests in the West Bank against Israel’s colonial rule. Because I am an Israeli citizen, the proceedings in the case are held in an Israeli court in Jerusalem and not at the military court, where Palestinians are tried.

It has been almost nine years since the last time I was incarcerated for more than a day or two. Much has changed since. Politically, reality does not even resemble that of a decade ago, and none of the changes were for the better.

Politically, the world seems to have lost much of its interest in the Palestinian struggle for liberation, placing Israel at one of the historical peaks of its political strength. I am in no position to discuss the profound changes within Israeli society and how even farther to the right it has drifted. Israeli liberals are much better suited for such a task, because they hold their country dear and feel a sense of belonging that I cannot feel and do not want to feel.

Personally, I am older, more tired and, mostly, not as healthy as I was. Of course, the price I have paid for my part in the struggle is a fraction of that paid by Palestinian comrades, but I cannot deny its subjective weight on me: from physical injuries, some irreversible, through sporadic despair, anxiety and sense of helplessness, to the encumbering sensation of loss and the presence of death – and the grip all these have on my day-to-day life. And yet, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Right now, just as it was back then, sitting in prison is better than any other alternative available to me.

The legal fallacies that riddle the case against us are of little significance. While it is fair to assume that had I agreed to cooperate, the trial would have ended up with an acquittal, my refusal to recognize the court’s legitimacy is based on two main grounds.

The first is that my Palestinian comrades do not enjoy the luxury of being tried in the relatively comfortable conditions of the Israeli courts. Rather, they are tried as subjects in the parody of a legal system that are Israel’s military courts. Unlike me, Palestinians do not have the option of refusing to cooperate with their captors, since the vast majority of them are tried while remanded into custody for the duration of their proceedings.

Additionally, the punishment Palestinians are faced with is significantly harsher than that specified in Israeli law. Thus, in this regard as well, despite refusing to recognize the court’s legitimacy, the price I am likely to pay is significantly lower than that paid by my comrades.

The second, more fundamental ground to refuse to cooperate is that all Israeli courts, military or otherwise, lack any legitimacy to preside over matters of resisting Israeli colonial rule, which employs a hybrid regime, ranging between a distorted and racially discriminatory democracy in its sovereign territory and a flat-out military dictatorship in the occupied territories.

Faced with the tremendous shift to the right in Israeli politics, the shrinking remnants of the Zionist left – once the country’s dominant elite group – are consumed by lamenting the decline of Israeli democracy. But what democracy is it they wish to defend? The one that has dispossessed its Palestinian citizens of their lands and their rights? The one that, at best, views these Palestinian citizens as second-class? Perhaps it is the democracy that governs the Gaza Strip through vicious siege while it reigns as a military dictatorship in the West Bank?

Despite the obvious nature of the Israeli regime, Israeli liberals are not willing to contest the fundamental premise of internal Israeli discourse and acknowledge that the State of Israel simply is not a democracy. Never was.

To join the fight to topple Israeli apartheid, the few Jewish citizens of Israel willing to do so will first have to recognize that they are overprivileged and be willing to pay the price of relinquishing that status. An open rebellion against the regime has been taking place for decades, carried out by the Palestinian resistance movement. The price paid by those involved in it is immense. Jewish citizens of Israel must cross over and walk in their footsteps.

#anti-colonialism #anti-prison #Israel #Jewish anarchism #anarchism #climate crisis #climate change #resistance #autonomy #revolution #ecology #community building #practical anarchism #anarchist society #practical #Jonathan Pollak #practical anarchy #anarchy #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #organization #grassroots #grass roots #anarchists #libraries #leftism #social issues

[humanpurposes]

Just for a Moment, part ii

Tom Bennett has a habit of climbing through her bedroom window whenever he's in trouble // Main Masterlist

Tom Bennett x OFC

Warnings: 18+, smut, Tom Bennett's daddy issues, mentions of war and death

Words: 5000

A/n: Also available to read on AO3.

Monday 18th September, 1939

He can’t count the time as he waits but it feels like hours, leaning against the wooden gate, fiddling with his release papers. He’s still in the same jumper he was wearing two weeks ago when those coppers came for him, and he smells like a wet dog.

He supposes he should count himself lucky, all things considered. It’s not the first time he’s been arrested, and it’s not the first time he’s been threatened with jail time. Everything had caught up to him, but he’d found an escape, like he always does.

He still can’t get the look of disappointment in Kitty’s face out of his head.

Something’s clawing at his mind, a restless feeling, like there’s something he’s forgotten but he can’t put his finger on it.

Finally he spots Lois and his dad. He starts to pull the jumper over his head. “Either of you started to smoke? I’m dying for a fag.”

Lois holds out a clean shirt for him.

“Didn’t bring my overcoat then?”

His sister glowers.

“I’m joking,” he draws out, tossing the jumper into her arms. He slips the shirt over his head and walks on. If either of them want to ask him about his little sabbatical, he’d rather it be a short and sweet conversation.

“When are you in court then?” Douglas asks, he and Lois walking a pace or so behind him.

“I’m not.”

“You’ve been on remand for two weeks, they must have charged you with something.”

“They were going to,” Tom says, bringing his arms through the sleeves and doing up the buttons on the front of the shirt, “but I said I’d join up.”

He knows why his dad hesitates. “You’d be better off in there,” he says.

“I won’t actually be joining up, dad. I’m a conscientious objector.” He knows he’s far too smug about the whole thing, it seems to irritate people, and he thinks maybe that’s why acts the way he does. 

“Since when?” Lois says.

Tom turns his head over his shoulder and grins. “About half an hour ago?”

The bus to Longsight stops just outside Gregory’s shop. He spots Kitty behind the counter through the glass. She doesn’t see him though, she’s writing something down. He asks Lois for some change and says he’ll see her and dad at home.

He takes a deep breath before he pushes on the door handle. The bell doesn’t distract Kitty from what she’s doing, but it gives him a few moments to admire the sight of her in deep concentration. She frowns rather sternly, pressing, pouting and biting her lips while she tries to think. Then with a frustrated huff she sets her pencil down and looks up.

She looks stunned at the sight of him. “Afternoon,” she says.

“Afternoon.”

“Not in prison anymore?”

He shrugs casually. “Didn’t get charged with anything.”

The edge of her mouth quirks. “And that makes it alright then?” 

He stops himself from rolling his eyes. Kitty has a remarkable talent for disguising her anger as passivity, but he knows better than to ignore it.

“Not charged on account of me joining up– for the war, like.”

“Oh right,” she says, folding her arms. “What did you come here for, toy gun and a uniform?”

“No,” he says, placing sixpenny on the counter, “usual.”

She looks at the coin, and then at him, before she turns to the shelf to get him the cigarettes and places the packet on the counter.

He’s never minded silences with Kitty before, they both seem to be able to sit in them, not having to needlessly fill the spaces. There’s nothing comfortable or familiar about this. He can see the rise and fall of her chest and her nostrils flaring when she puts the money through the till. The change rattles inside the draw as she slams it shut. 

“Cheers,” he mutters. He opens the packet and slips out a cigarette, only to realise they’d taken his lighter off him when he was arrested.

He taps it against the counter and Kitty just watches him. He has the feeling she might want him to leave.

“I’m not really joining up,” he says, “I’m gonna be a pacifist.”

“Tom Bennett the conchie?” she smirks.

Seeing her smile is like watching the sunrise, one of life’s little triumphs. He hopes he’s managed to break through the cold exterior.

“Dad’s giving me some leaflets and all,” he adds with a grin.

“You’re really committing then?” she asks, but there’s something sharp about her tone.

He feels his face soften. “What’s that mean?”

She huffs through her nose and turns her head away for a moment. “Well it’s obvious you’re only doing it because it gets you out of something you don’t want to do.”

“That’s sort of the point of pacifism, isn’t it?”

“Not in your case, no. You’re doing this to avoid going to prison.”

He scoffs, but he knows she’s right. Perfect Kitty Wheelan, she’s always right about everything.

“Would you rather that then?” he says, grimly.

“No! For Christ’s sake, of course I’m glad you’re not in prison!”

“So what’s your problem then?” he exclaims. “Because the only alternative is getting shipped off to die in some stupid war!”

He’s gone too far, he can see it in her eyes, they way they go wide and glassy. She takes a few moments to catch her breath, and when she blinks a tear rolls from each of her eyes.

“They’ve already gone, Eddie and Art. They’ve been sent to Belgium. Stevie’s not signed up yet, but he wants to.”

Two weeks. He’s been gone for two weeks and the war is already pressing on.

“Kitty…” he says softly, placing his hands on the counter, but she doesn’t reach for him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

She takes a slow breath. When she looks up at him his heart stops for a moment. She’s so beautiful, even when she cries.

“Tom,” she says softly, “if you’re going to do something, do it for the right reasons. Do it because you believe in it.”

His hands twitch on the counter. He looks at her with the face that she usually finds convincing, hoping somehow she’ll understand how desperate he feels, how much he wants her to just take his hand.

“Alright, Kitty!” calls the voice of Mr Gregory, appearing from the storeroom. “That’s you done for the day—” he freezes when he sees Tom.

“Thanks, Mr Gregory,” Kitty says, quickly wiping her cheeks and undoing her apron. “Are you sure you don’t want help closing?”

“I’ll be alright, lass,” the man insists, “you deserve a few hours off.”

She won’t look at him, but Tom waits for her to get her coat and her bag, and follows her out the door as she leaves.

He fiddles with one of the cigarettes he can’t light, walking beside her towards Slade Grove. His arm brushes against her shoulder every so often.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “for shouting, it was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was,” Kitty says.

“It’s just, you know, criminal charges’ll stick with me for life, and if I die as a soldier, then what was the point in signing up in the first place?”

He watches her face wince at the mere thought, but she keeps her head up and her shoulders strong. She doesn’t say another word to him. 

An odd feeling of panic settles in his stomach. He tries to think of all the things he could say to make things right, to get her to at least look at him. The panic only mounts as they get closer to the Wheelans’ front door. 

“Kitty,” he says as she reaches into her handbag for her keys.

Her eyes slowly come to him, with a sad but expectant look.

His heart could burst. There’s so much he could say but no words come to mind, like his eyes just see her and accept the sight completely. 

“Kitty I—”

Suddenly the door swings open. Nancy Wheelan looks like she’s ready to go somewhere by the green coat and the brown leather handbag on her arm.

“Oh,” she says, looking between the two of them. “Is the shop still open?”

“Mr Gregory’s closing. If you want something you should get there quick,” Kitty says.

“No matter, I can wait until tomorrow,” Nancy says, before she turns her eyes to Tom.

“Mrs Wheelan,” he says, as inoffensively as he can.

Kitty shifts her weight on her feet.

“Tom,” the woman replies, curtly. Your father tells me you’ve been on remand.” Like mother like daughter, never ones to avoid stating the obvious.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Tom says, tucking the cigarette behind his ear. He’s hardly going to get invited in for tea by the stern look on Nancy’s face. “I’d better be off,” he says, and turns to Kitty one last time. “I’ll see you around.”

Kitty nods and quickly follows her mother inside the house. He can’t help but feel the slam of their front door is deliberate.

Douglas leaves some pamphlets out for him on the kitchen table, along with a spare lighter. He sits with his feet on the table, eyes skimming over the words, flicking the lighter open and shut. No matter how hard he tries to concentrate, his mind always seems to wander to Kitty.

When Lois comes back from her gig, torn between delight and despair at Harry’s return to Manchester, Tom sits on the windowsill in their bedroom, blowing smoke through the open window. Across the road, Kitty’s bedroom light is on, the curtains wide open.

He wonders if it’s an invitation.

“He said he loved you, didn’t he?”

Lois is tucked into her bed on the other side of the curtain that divides the room, the duvet up to her chin. “That was before he went away,” she says groggily.

“Yeah and a bloke isn’t going to say it more than once,” he says, tapping the ash from the cigarette, “not unless he’s feeling guilty.”

“It wasn’t like before,” Lois says, “he said things were different…”

“He’d just be nervous,” Tom muses. “He didn’t write, temper on you, bloody hell who wouldn't be, eh?”

There’s a flicker of a shadow in Kitty’s window.

“Why are you sticking up for him?” Lois giggles from her bed. “You don’t even like him.”

A figure blocks out the light and then she’s there. 

Look at me.

She slides the window closed and turns the lock. 

Come on, look at me.

She reaches up for the curtains and before she draws them, she turns her head to their house. He lowers his cigarette. She’s looking at him, dead in the eyes, he’s sure of it, even if his face will be hard to see.

She closes the curtains and the light switches off soon after that.

He huffs through his nose and collapses onto his front on the bed. “I’m sticking up for you,” he says, taking another drag, “couldn’t cope for a minute if you went wobbly. Neither could dad.”

“Of course you could, you’d look after each other.”

He doubts that. He’s always been one to disappear when dad has one of his episodes, or sits in his bedroom, crying into mum’s old cardigans because the smell of her is starting to fade. It’s too much. It’s frustrating. It makes him want to shout and scream because why can’t dad just pull himself together? Instead he slips out the backdoor, smokes in the alleyway behind the houses, hunches himself over a pint in the pub, or finds himself in Kitty’s bedroom, just for a few moments of peace.

“You’re the one he needs, Lois. Me…” He pouts his lips as he takes another drag and inhales the smoke into his chest. It burns a little until he breathes it out. 

Kitty doesn’t let him smoke in her bedroom, in case her parents or one of the lads found out, but she says she likes the smell of it. She muttered it once, about a year ago, when he’d shown up at her window with a flask of whisky he’d filled from dad’s stash under his bed. They drank while her parents were at the pub and the boys were having some kind of party downstairs, until all they could manage were giggles that left them scarce for air as they tried to stay quiet. She curled into his arms that night and nuzzled into his neck, pulling herself into him with every breath she took.

“Because you smell like you,” she’d said in an airy voice, “Like fags and sweat and sweets.”

He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her neck, but she was already falling asleep by the time his lips grazed the corner of her mouth. 

If she remembers that night, she never mentions it, and she’s never tried to kiss him back. He doesn’t blame her.

“... I’m just a bloody nuisance.” 

Tuesday 19th September, 1939

He comes back from the recruitment office with his hands in his pockets. Some pacifist he makes, almost starting a fight in the queue. He can’t even laugh at himself. He heard the word “coward” and he knew he couldn’t go through with it.

As he walks past the Wheelan’s house, he sees the light in the front room isn’t on. Usually that’s where the boys all sit, but with Eddie and Art gone the house must be quiet these days. He wonders what Kitty will make of the recruitment papers in his back pocket.

When he makes his way into the kitchen, Lois is busy with ironing, and his dad is looking at the papers through his spectacles. 

“Kałuszyn’s a German victory,” Douglas mutters as Tom drapes his jacket over the opposite seat. “Only took a day.”

“How was the recruitment office?” Lois asks.

Tom exhales through his mouth and places the papers in front of his dad, new but already folden and crinkled.

Once Douglas has read what he needs to, he lowers his spectacles.

“The navy? The blood navy? You can’t even steer a pedalo.”

“At least it’s not the army,” Tom says with a shrug, “and I’m not going to prison, so…”

“I must be stupid,” Douglas says, “I thought you’d actually become a pacifist, really believed in it.”

“I don’t really believe in anything for long, dad,” Tom says, curling his fist on the table in front of him. “At least I’m fighting on the right side, at least give me that!”

“Everybody thinks that, every war that’s ever been fought,” Douglas says.

“Yeah well this one’s different.”

“Every war’s different!” Douglas bellows, tossing his spectacles onto the table. “Until it’s the same.”

Tom hangs his head. He knows he’s not a coward, and yet he’d still found himself switching to a different line once it had all calmed down. He knew he was stubborn, but this, signing up for a war to prove a point to a stranger… the worst part is he’s stubborn enough to go through with it.

“Lois, talk some sense into him!” their father says.

Lois can be so quick to anger, but with dad she always manages to stay perfectly calm. “I can’t do that dad. I think he’s right to join up.”

Tom can’t bring himself to look up, even when he hears his dad scoff at her.

“At least he’s getting out in the world,” she says. 

“Yeah, to get shot or blown up!”

Tom snatches up the recruitment papers as he stands, reaching for his jacket on the back of the chair. Lois’s eyes are a silent plea begging him to stay but he knows if he’ll just make things worse.

As he slams the kitchen door his dad shouts after him, “and do the same to lads no older than him, who have no more idea why they’re fighting either!”

He walks to the end of the red brick wall, where the alleyway leads to the main street. With his back against the wall and his head thrown back, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket and lights a cigarette. 

It’s all bollocks, he concludes. The war, the signups, the idyllics and the madmen signing their own death warrants. He’s no righteous pacifist, but he’s not exactly a hero either. There’s no right side for him, not really.

He rattles some change in his pocket; he could use a pint, but he thinks there’s somewhere else he’d rather be. So he waits at the end of the alley, until the street is silent and he’s sure most of the residents will have gone to bed.

When he walks out onto the street he looks up at Kitty’s window. The curtains are closed but the window is open and the lights are on.

He’s well used to climbing up there by now. He avoids the view from the window to the lounge and pulls himself up the drainpipe and bay window. For the last little bit he has to slot his feet between the bricks, put his hands on the ledge below Kitty’s window and lift himself onto it. 

There are two voices on the other side of the curtains. He holds his breath and awkwardly looks around the street, but thankfully there’s no one around to spot him.

“I thought you were going to wait a bit longer,” Kitty says.

“I can’t keep putting it off,” Stevie replies, “not while Eddie and Art are out there risking their lives. Even Connie says she and Lois are auditioning for ENSA. We’ve all got to do our bit.”

“But we need you here, too,” Kitty says.

“I’m not having this conversation with you again.” The door handle rattles as someone reaches to open it.

There’s a pause, then Stevie sighs. “I’ll stop by the shop on my way home.”

She doesn’t reply.

“Night, Kitty,” Stevie says.

She grumbles back, “night.”

The door closes. Kitty releases a shaky breath that makes his heart ache. Her footsteps move across the floor towards the bed. He hears her sheets rustle and the light switch off. Surely she realises she’s left the window open?

He cautiously pushes the curtains back with a slight scraping noise of the rings against the curtain frame. He swings his legs inside and ducks his head under, kicking off his boots before he moves towards the bed, careful to avoid the floorboards he knows are creaky.

Kitty lies facing the wall and close to it, leaving a small amount of space on the mattress beside her.

He takes off his jacket, belt and jumper, leaving on his slacks and shirt, and lifts a corner of her duvet, slotting in against her back. He places the hand that isn’t underneath him on her arm, tracing up and down, along the texture of her skin.

Kitty hums dreamily. She takes his hand and clutches it against her stomach, so his arm falls around her waist. He holds her tighter, bringing her further into him until he can feel the curve of her spine against his shirt.

“I’m sorry I was such an arse to you earlier,” she mutters. 

He brushes the hair from her neck, his eyes inches from her bare skin. Her nightgown is starting to slip down her shoulder too. She smells sweet, like red sweets and vanilla perfume. 

“It’s my own stupid fault,” he says, softly, but they’re so close she’ll hear every word. “Besides, didn’t even go through on the pacifist thing. I signed up for the navy this morning.”

Her hair flicks in his face as she turns to her other side. His arm settles back on her waist and the tip of her nose barely brushes his own.

“You did what?”

“Signed up for the navy,” he says.

“You did not,” she breathes.

He swallows his disappointment. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to find a principle, to do something for the right reasons?

“What are you so upset for?” he says, “I’m the one who has to go, not you.”

She nods, but he can see the tears welling in her eyes.

“And Stevie’s signing up too,” he realises.

She huffs, the way she usually does when she’s upset but she pretends not to be. “That’s it then, once you and him are gone, I’ll have no one.”

He takes her hand and brings it between their chests, clasping it tightly. “Oh my pretty Kitty,” he grins, knowing how much she hates it when he calls her that, “you’ve got your mum and dad, you’ve got mates. Dad and Lois adore you. You’ve got your job, you’ve got a life here.”

“You’re a part of my life too,” she says.

It knocks the breath from his lungs.

“I’ve signed up now. Couldn’t take it back even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Kitty says.

His chest feels like it might crush under the weight of it all. “But you said—”

“I know what I said, just… why’d you have to get yourself caught up in all these messes?”

He sees it in the way she looks at him, not exasperated or angry just, sad. He’s never really understood why she seems to take his mistakes so personally.

He turns his head further into the pillow and moves his tongue over his teeth. “Some bloke at the recruitment office said I was a coward for queuing up with the conchies.”

Kitty’s lip trembles. “So what?” she whispers.

“Squared up to him, didn’t I? But when it came to putting my name down… I don’t know, I just couldn’t do it. See the grief dad gets for his paper, what would people think of me if I stayed home while men are laying down their lives?”

Her chest rises and falls as she sighs, slowly, deeply. 

“Maybe it’s me,” he says. “Maybe I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not a bad person,” she says, placing her hand on his jaw, fingertips stoking lightly over his neck. “You’re just…”

“Just what?”

She smiles sadly. “You’re just stupid.”

He smiles back, and nudges his forehead against hers. The rest of the house is so quiet he worries he’s breathing too loudly.

“Kitty,” he whispers, sliding his hand along her waist and into her back, pulling her closer, closer.

“Yes?” 

His palm maps every curve and detail along her body, her back, her hips, her rear, her thighs, the feeling of her skin and the way she shudders at his touches. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Her smile is wide and unashamed. She puts her arms over his shoulders and gently presses her lips to his. 

They had kissed before, once or twice when they were kids. Back then they thought it was hilarious, another secret they could keep with each other, and they felt so grown up at even just the briefest peck of their lips.

Kissing Kitty now is unlike anything he’s done before. It’s slow and steady, and he savours every moment of it, the softness of her mouth, her hands in his hair, the little hum she gives when he kisses her neck and the way she arches her back when he slips his thigh between her legs.

She follows his lead at first, but finds her stride soon enough, kissing him deeper, holding him closer as she slowly starts to rut her hips against him, grinding into his thigh.

He whispers her name into her mouth, desperately squeezing her waist through her nightgown as he feels himself becoming hard against her stomach. And it hurts. Everything about her consumes him, sets him on edge and lulls him into a calm and assured warmth.

Her hands slip between them, unsure but determined fingers undoing the buttons on his shirt. He catches on and quickly has it over his head, leaving it forgotten on the floor.

She pauses, her eyes, palms and fingertips running over the bare skin revealed to her, the light patch of hair on his chest, the lines of his muscles, the small moles running down his torso and the scar on his bicep where he’d broken his arm years ago. 

She slips further, brushing over the bulge in his slacks. Tom clenches his teeth and places a hand over hers, bucking under her touch. 

“Can you take these off?” she says, and with that doe-eyed look, how could he ever refuse her?

He lifts his hips and shuffles his slacks past his ankles, and soon those are on the floor too. He looks back to Kitty, with a pleased grin.

She teases her fingers over the fabric of his boxers. “Those too?”

He removes the final layer, smiling at Kitty’s apparent fascination. She cautiously feels along his naval and his hips, until she comes to his cock. She traces her fingertips over it, already half-hard.

He positions her hand around it and guides her to stroke up and down. Their eyes meet. Even through the low light and the dreamy haze of his own want, she’s beautiful, lips parted, brows in a wanting frown, and the corners of her mouth curling up. When she brushes her thumb over the tip, he thinks he might come there and then.

He leans up, kisses her cheek and whispers in her ear. “I want to see you too.”

She comes to her knees and lifts her nightgown over her head. He leans his head against the headboard, a contented sigh leaving his lips at the sight of her. She’s perfect. How could she be anything less? 

He reaches for her hips, bringing her to straddle him. Never parting from her body, his hand slides along her waist to one of her breasts, squeezing gently and dragging his thumb over her perked nipple. He starts to guide her with his other hand, rocking her hips back and forth, dragging her wet centre along his cock. He bites down on his lip to stop himself from groaning at the little whimper that catches in her throat, and the feeling of her gliding against him, so warm and practically soaked. 

She braces herself against his chest. “Tom,” she whines, though it’s barely above a breath. He can feel her trying to move faster, desperate for friction. “I want more, please…”

He hushes her, placing a finger to her lips. He turns his head to the floor, impressed with himself that his slacks are just within reach. He takes a packet from one of the pockets and tears it open with his teeth, sliding the condom along his length.

He leans up again and catches her lips in a gentle kiss. “Are you alright with this?” he says, “we don’t have to.”

Kitty holds his face in her hands as she lifts her hips. “I want to,” she utters.

Tom positions his tip to her entrance and holds her as she slowly starts to sink down. He can’t help the low groan that sounds in his throat no matter how much he tries to resist, but she’s so tight, so perfect.

She gasps and clenches her hands in his hair, but is determined to keep taking him, until their hips meet and he bottoms out. They stay like that for as long as she needs, catching her breath, getting used to the feeling of him inside her.

“Good girl,” he hums, tracing his thumbs over her stomach. “How do you feel?”

Kitty’s eyes flutter and she nods. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”

“This should help,” he says, circling his thumb over her pearl.

She clasps a hand over her mouth as she lets out a short gasp and braces herself against him again. 

“Fuck, does that feel nice, pretty Kitty?” he grins.

Her moans are starting to make too much noise. If they go any further they might wake up her whole family. Not fancying having to explain a black eye or any broken limbs to his dad or commanding officer, he takes Kitty in his arms and brings her to lie down beside him again, keeping his cock nestled inside her.

He brings her head close to his shoulder. “I’m going to start moving, tell me if you want to stop.”

She nods, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And I know it feels good but you need to be quiet too, yeah?"

"Yes," she utters, "please, just..."

He starts to fuck her slowly, finding a rhythm that ensures the bed doesn’t make any noise as it rocks. He draws her pleasure from her gradually, his cock dragging through her and his fingers circling over her pearl. He can feel it when she starts to clench around him, her hips moving against him to match his thrusts. 

They fall apart together, silencing their moans into each other’s necks.

The quiet of the night feels precious; two people existing in the same space, breathing the same air, sharing the same heat, clinging to each other like they’ve always done. 

She kisses him again, messily, like she’s drunk. Somewhere in it she loses her focus, her mouth slides along his jaw and she giggles into his neck.

“Are you tired?” he says.

“I think so,” she mumbles.

“Come here then.” He slides slowly out of her and turns onto his back, one arm draped over her shoulders. She leans into him, keeping a hand against his skin, over his heart.

Kitty snores softly in her sleep but he doesn’t mind it. 

He visits her every night for the next week, until he’ll have to leave for his training. He waits until all the lights in the Wheelans’ house are off, then sneaks in through the window and discards his clothes before he climbs into her bed. They kiss and fuck as quietly as they can, until they’re both breathless and too tired to stay awake.

On his last night in Longsight, once Kitty is fast asleep, her breath fluttering against his chest and his fingers stroking over her hair, it occurs to him that he might love her. But he’s seen what a mess Harry and Lois made, saying stupid things like that before one of them went away. So he lets her sleep, and stay in blissful ignorance. 

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

Series taglist: @hanula18 @azxulaa

#my fics #tom bennett #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #wof #world on fire bbc #world on fire season 2 #world on fire fanfiction #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennet x reader #ewan mitchell #tom bennett smut

[mus1g4]

I saw that you posted some pictures of court trials and I really liked them! One question: Do you like being judged as a convict in a court of law? How would you feel about being handcuffed and shackled, wearing an orange jumpsuit, listening to the judge in front of you decide your charges and your sentence?

My feelings about court are very simple! I love it! Three aspects of court are exciting to me.

The first aspect I love is arraignment. At your arraignment, you are generally in a jail uniform and restrained. You find out exactly what charges are being imposed, and you are raw emotionally and exposed to the public in a jail uniform!

The second aspect is your sentencing hearing. It is not when the jury finds you guilty, but when the judge imposes sentence! Again, you are in uniform and now you have moved from inmate to convict! Can you imagine standing in court and hearing, ".........having been found guilty of 1st degree murder with a forethought, I impose upon you the maximum sentence the state allows. You are to be remanded immediately by the Sheriff of this County to the State Department of Corrections. There you shall remain for the duration of your natural life at Hard Labor. This sentence is imposed without benefit of parole. Take the convict away!"

The third aspect is the Post Sentencing Hearing after you are in prison. They bring you back in heavy chains, wearing your prison uniform, and a shitty prison haircut. You sit in court while they argue fine details of your case! And 99.999% of the time, your convict ass goes right back to prison!! Fuck yes!!!!!

Question about Court Appearances as an Inmate

#inmate #prison #jail #convict #prisoner #male #orange jumpsuit #court #question #belly chain

[alabs1]

Oyo Teacher Remanded In Prison Over Rape Of 14-year-Old Student

Oyo Teacher Remanded In Prison Over Rape Of 14-year-Old Student

An Iyaganku Family Court sitting in Ibadan on Thursday remanded a secondary school teacher, Oyebode Alayoteti, at Abolongo Correctional facility, Oyo for allegedly defiling a student in his school. Chief Magistrate Patricia Adetuyibi did not take the plea of the defendant, pending the advice of Oyo State Director of Public Prosecutions. Ms Adetuyibi adjourned the case until August 18 for…

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#Oyo #Prison #Rape #Student #Teacher Remanded

[docgold13]

Batman: The Animated Series - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Mister Freeze

Victor Fries was a scientist working at GothCorp. When his beloved wife Nora was diagnosed with a terminal illness, he began experimenting with cryogenics.  He found a means of sustaining Nora in cryogenic stasis where she could remain until a cure for her disease could be found.  All of this work was done at GothCorp, using huge amounts of the company’s funds.  When Ferris Boyle, the chief executive officer at GothCorp, discovered what Fries had been up to, he went to Fries’ laboratory with his men to shut the whole matter down.

Fries begged for his wife's life, but an irate Boyle had his men destroy the equipment.  Fries himself was kicked into a batch of chemicals, causing a terrible explosion that consumed the entire lab.  

Fries managed to survive this ordeal but the cryogenic chemicals had caused a dramatic and irreversible change to his physiology.  His body could no longer survive in temperatures above zero degrees celsius.  He created for himself a specialized cryo-suit that kept his body at low temperatures.  This suit also tripled his normal strength. He additionally devised a freeze gun that could fire torrents of ice that flash-froze anything it came into contact with.  

Devastated by the loss of his wife and now seeing himself as a cold and unfeeling entity, Fries re-dubbed himself ‘Mister Freeze’ and set about on gaining cold-blooded vengeance against Farris Boyle.  

Freeze’s efforts to bring down GothCorp attracted the attention of The Batman and the Dark Knight barely survived his first encounter with the villain.  After further investigation, Batman was able to determine Freeze’s true identity as well as Boyle’s culpability in the accident that had created him.  

Batman was ultimately able to defeat Freeze while also exposing Boyle’s murderous actions.  Boyle was sentenced to prison whereas Freeze was remanded to Arkham Asylum.  It would prove the first of many battles between Batman and Mr. Freeze.

Actor Michael Ansara provided the voice for Mr. Freeze, with the cold-hearted villain first appearing in the third episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Heart of Ice Part One.’

#batman the animated series #Batman #Mr. Freeze #Mister Freeze #Michael Ansara #cut-out #paper art #dc comics