If you have to terrorize your child to get them to respect you you’re not teaching respect, you’re teaching blind obedience to a violent power structure. You’re teaching them to be the bystander who watches a cop beat a person to death, to be the person who keeps walking when they see a man strike his partner, to be the person who watches a peer bullied in school – you’re teaching your child to embody the nothing-done while oppression triumphs.

Normal Horoscope

Aries: The stars say you are lost. That’s okay! Most people are.

Taurus: it’s surprising how much happiness a little fried dough can bring us. Shame it dosen’t work that way for people.

Gemini: Cause a scene at your local McDonalds and then cause a second scene by apologizing dramatically. You’ll feel better.

Cancer: The stars show me you. You lie there, face illuminated by a rectangle of dull light. Get some rest. You need it.

Leo: We can only hate what we see in ourselves. Consider that you may be full of mosquitoes.

Virgo: The stars speak of you in hushed whispers so I can’t hear, but generally they sound encouraging.

Libra: The indecision you feel can be alleviated by eating an entire sleeve of fig newtons while staring at your kitchen wall.

Scorpio: Pallid, grey things stalk just outside your vision, feeding on all the things youve forgotten.

Saggatarius: Nothing that beckons has ever turned out to be good. Good things dont need to beckon.

Capricorn: They blog about you.

Aquarius: Show your contempt for the concept of money by beating a cop with another cop.

Pisces: Come now, you’re more clever than meta-humor. Or perhaps you just don’t know yourself too well? Something to think about, regardless.

You know what I want? I want Gavin, Jack, and Lil J to get picked up by the LSPD. Maybe it was a heist gone wrong, maybe some patrolling beat cops got lucky, I don’t care, but the three get hauled in, thrown in separate interrogation rooms and grilled. Each interrogator comes out around 3 hours later, frustrated and confused when the only answer answer to their question of “Where are the other crew members” was always “There’re in Guco Fapé.” 

The police are pissed, the three are smug, and no matter how rough it gets, they’re still only answering Guco Fapé, to the point where the LSPD commissioner calls in some detectives to try and figure out what the fuck that goddamn phrase means. 

Naturally they escape, and the LSPD are befuddled when they enter the separate interrogation rooms and the only thing they find is “Greetings from Guco Fapé” scratched into the tables.


A History of Violence - Part Two (completed)

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O

Part One Here

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby

Warnings: Language, violence, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth, assault, mention of rape

Words: 4600+

Betas: @saxxxology & @moonlitskinwalker

Your name: submit What is this?

Interrogation: Sam

Sam sits on a tiny chair in a small room, wrists in handcuffs resting on the table in front of him. He’s been waiting for the better part of three hours without so much as a hello from anyone. He’s got a pretty good idea of what’s happening, at least the basics. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting to be brought in for questioning, he was, however, unprepared for the SWAT team knocking down the door to the mobile office at their construction site.

He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. While he’s not new to being on this side of the law, he’s never been left to sweat in the box for this long.

He gets it, they’re proving a point.

Keep reading

@broship-addict and i were nattering about parents!andreil with kid!kevin here and then she brought up this scenario and i had to write it:

The phone wakes Neil, and the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is the 2:18 glowing on the alarm clock.

“Minyard,” Andrew answers. His voice is rough with sleep but he sounds awake enough. He listens for a few beats and then says, “Where are you?”

He pushes up out of the bed, and the movement on the mattress jolts both the cats and Neil into proper wakefulness. Neil rolls over and gets blinded by the lamp, shoving his head into the mattress with a curse. He can hear Andrew opening a drawer and then the sounds of him dressing.

“Fifteen minutes,” Andrew says, and then to Neil, “That was Kevin.”

That gets Neil’s head up pretty quick. “What?”

“He’s on Castle Street at someone’s party. Too drunk to drive,” Andrew says, throwing on his jacket and stuffing his feet into his shoes.


“Keep up,” Andrew replies. “Kevin, illegal drinking, needs to be picked up.”

“Wasn’t he meant to be studying with Jean and Jeremy?” Neil asks. He’s already sliding down back onto the bed to lie flat, because it looks like Andrew has this covered. He’ll be pissed off later, when it’s actually morning.

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Everyone had heard of Reyes; the guy’s practically running the whole department himself and brings in more criminals with truckloads of evidence than any other precinct in the tri-county area.
Jack, not to admit aloud, was starstruck. Gabriel was *good*, maybe even the *best* officer that had graced these halls and Jack looked up to the detective. To discover the chief actually wanted to be Reyes’ understudy, to be pushed up the desks to vice (from just a beat cop, he was content at this position, he enjoyed working with the community and making them safe) was still rattling in his head. 

“He’s still sore after Lacroix, you’re not his replacement. Make sure he knows that.” The Chief had told him. “You’re going to go far Morrison and Reyes is going to put you on the right track. But you’re also there to keep him focused. He gets in his head sometimes. Watch him.”

Jack watched Reyes stomp down the corridor in a huff, starting Monday he would be the start of his career.
….Maybe he should get a suit?

Neon Noir Overwatch AU.

💖  Artist support   💖

anonymous asked:

How do you see relationships between the Gaang progressing throughout adulthood? Bryke obviously did a bad job portraying them in general, and seeing how the other avatar writers felt the same, I imagined so much more for our favorite characters than what Bryke lazily did. Any thoughts on other characters like June?

First of all, there would be NO leaving Zuko completely on his own to govern the Fire Nation. That is just a stupid move politically, militarily,

Jack: Spiritually, ecumenically, dramatically …

You name it. This means that Iroh stays in the Fire Nation with Zuko, so that rather than backsliding by chatting with Ozai, Zuko would gain ground in his mission to redeem himself and the Fire Nation. The first few years would be extremely volatile, and there would be a lot of challenges ahead. He would have to search for his mother and reconcile, somehow, with Azula. But you know who would have been there to help him?

Aang. No, not the Aang who decided “A promise is a promise!” and went into the Avatar State twice to attack Zuko. No, this Aang has complete control of the Avatar State, as he should have by the end of the show, since that was one of the main goals of his character. Aang would have gone to the Fire Nation first, since he spent the least amount of time there out in the open and would have major trust rebuilding to do after what happened with Ozai.

During his time in the Fire Nation, he would have discovered Ty Lee as an untrained airbender. This would give him the impetus to start looking for other airbenders, who might not even know about their gifts. He would have difficulty with a work-life balance, but he would eventually find a way with the help of:

Toph. Toph’s metalbending academy is something I wholeheartedly approve of. I think she should eventually become a businesswoman and use her family’s vast wealth to make Gaoling (and their new ally, Omashu) alternate power centers, so Ba Sing Se wouldn’t have such a stranglehold on the rest of the Earth Kingdom, with metalbenders initially acting as private security, and later, a police force in the city. But while I understand that Toph has the attitude of a beat cop, she hates the city, walls, and rules, and there would be a bunch of all three if she became Chief of Police. (P.S. She would have many more tea times with Uncle, and get that life-changing field trip with Zuko we all wanted to see.)

Toph would also have issues to sort through with her parents, and she would probably never see eye to eye with her family. But one person would help coach her through it:

Katara. At first, Katara would bury herself in her work at the South Pole, helping her father, brother, and Pakku rebuild the Southern Water Tribe. She would be at the heart of social justice issues, especially for Water Tribe women, and would challenge more than one antiquated idea that the Northerners would bring with them. She would get many marriage offers once she turned sixteen, and to take a break from it, she would answer Zuko’s request help find his mother. This leads to her realizing how stifled she feels at home, where everyone expects her to cater to them, in addition to helping lead their tribe. She would apply for a diplomatic post to the Fire Nation and eventually create her own cross-bending school, adapting her school from Toph’s metalbending academy. At first, she would worry about not being at home enough to help the women’s rights movement in the Water Tribe, but someone else has the situation under control:

Suki. Suki would be an asset as the head of the Kyoshi Warriors, and also as a partner for Sokka. Her island’s location and the fact that the villagers wear blue all point to Water Tribe influence on Kyoshi anyway, and once the war is over and trade begins booming again, she would work to make Kyoshi less of a spectator in the world and more of a participant. She would be an excellent role model for Southern Water Tribe girls who don’t want to be pigeonholed into the homemaker ideal, and could also play a part in Republic City eventually. As the leader of an island that was neutral during the war, Suki would be an ideal person to have on the Republic City Council. (P.S. Why it’s a Council of Five when there are no nonbending representatives in LOK is a mystery to me. This would fix that oversight.) But who would lead the Kyoshi Warriors if she took up such a position?

Ty Lee. Ty Lee didn’t get a real explanation for why she joined the Kyoshi Warriors, especially considering her misgivings about spending the rest of her life as a matched set. She could turn the tables on the idea, lending individuality to the Warriors and teaching them chi blocking techniques while learning some of their fighting styles as well. These nonbenders could eventually form the Equalist movement, but a different one than in LOK—a morally ambiguous movement, instead of a villainous cadre led by a demagogue.

In the end, though, Ty Lee is a wanderer, and I’m inclined to believe that she is, in fact, an untrained Air Nomad. Eventually she would discover this, and that not only is she not part of a matched set; she is possibly one of the rarest human beings in the world. This would interfere with her “aura” for sure, because she’s not necessarily cut out for the ascetic Air Nomad lifestyle. So while she would be happy for Aang to train her, she might also butt heads with him about how to best secure the Air Nomad legacy for the future. Of course, since the Air Acolytes in Korra treated Kya and Bumi so abysmally, in my opinion this could only be a good thing. Through it all, she would still keep in touch with:

Mai. I have a different character path planned for Mai than what other fans might suggest. Mai becoming a bounty hunter is a popular fanon idea, which makes sense, since she did seem to enjoy tracking down Zuko and Iroh so that Azula could imprison them for life, as anyone would enjoy doing to a person they supposedly had a cruch on. To me, Mai’s poker face and cool-under-fire attitude screams “White Lotus”, of which there are no female members that we know at the end of A:TLA. The main obstacle to inducting her into the Order would be that the White Lotus is based on principles of interconnection and understanding other cultures, which Mai categorically does not have. But this is one of the places she could thus grow the most, without having such character development tied to a specific person. The fact that she fooled the Fire Princess means she can play both sides skillfully, which she’ll need to, considering a rival to the idea of a balanced world is going to be:

Azula. With Ozai imprisoned and without his bending, Azula is the most creditable foe the franchise still has. Patchy though her sanity might be, she is still extremely dangerous (as we saw during the Agni Kai). In an ideal world, she would use her almost preternatural instincts for personal weakness and manipulation to be a ruler, but the very confidence she exudes is based on her rigid mindset and a false sense of Fire Nation superiority. As natural as leadership might be for her, she burned all her bridges when she banished or imprisoned every follower she had. I like the idea of her relearning the meaning of firebending from the dragons and bringing the Sun Warriors into the modern era, but it would be a very painful character path for her when just being mentally stable is a huge hurdle. I think she would need to stay in the Fire Nation for several years, slowly healing with Zuko’s help, before even attempting it.

There is one other path that I would consider for Azula, and that is: the Spirit World. Azula is not a terribly spiritual person, but a spiritual journey such as Iroh underwent might actually help her. It could train her mind to separate illusion and self-deception from reality, and give her a better sense of where she belongs in the world. Not to mention, the Spirit World is dangerous and full of tricksters such as Koh; I think she would enjoy the challenge.

And what about Sokka?

Well, Sokka’s character got shoved to the side in the comics, but honestly, him being on the Republic City council, helping the White Lotus, and likely being chief one day is just fine! Legend of Korra didn’t really do him the disservice that it did the other characters. However, there is one thing that he will never, EVER be, and that is the possible deadbeat dad of Suyin. For my reasons why, please look at this post.

I don’t have ideas for anyone else, really, but we can’t leave out our most important character:

The GAang. In the comics and LOK, the GAang all seem to have gone their separate ways, especially with Zuko being so isolated from everyone except Aang. Katara, too, seems very cut off from current events, which is unacceptable. The GAang remained lifelong friends, regardless of any romantic relationships or lack thereof. Busy and hazardous as their lives might have been, they would always make the time to write, visit, plan projects, and attend reunions together.

(P.S. I don’t know that June needs to develop as a character; she’s one of those tertiary personalities that’s just fine with the amount of screentime she has.)

King of Hearts

Request: could you do a fic about jefferson and hamilton both trying to impress the reader? c:

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warning: it’s a Criminal Minds AU so murder and rape are mentioned several times but none of it is graphic, also angst- hellaaaa angst

Kink Tag: none

AU: Modern/Criminal Minds AU

Word Count: 6041 (yes, really)

Song: “Not Afraid Anymore” - Halsey

A/N: Welcome to the first day of the @hamwriters Write-A-Thon in celebration of us gaining 1K followers there! This au ripped my soul to pieces becuase I love Criminal Minds and this had to have an angst ending. Sorry in advance but hope you enjoy and see you tomorrow for femslash day.

unsub = unknown subject (aka the bad guy)

John rapped on your office door twice and held up a file once you looked up. “We got a case. NYC. It’s pretty bad.”

You stood and grabbed your tablet, looking through the files as you walked with him to the conference room. “Ten bodies? Why are we just now being called in?”

“Lead detective on the case was stubborn.” You snorted and he smiled at you. “But the details got leaked to the media and his captain made the call.”

“The media’s already running the story,” you asked as you sat down at the round table, nodding at each member of your team.

“Yeah,” said Maria as she leaned back in her chair. “They’re calling him the ‘King of Hearts.’ Saying he’s the worst thing that’s happened to the city since the Son of Sam.”

Angelica looked up from the files. “Are we sure it’s one unsub?”

George Washington, your team leader, sat down and smoothed his tie as he did so. “You think it’s more than one?”

“Like partners,” asked John.

Angelica shook her head. “No, I don’t think they’re partners. There are two different MO’s. The only thing they have in common is that they both take things from the victims.”

“Does he leave the things he takes with the next victim like the Reaper,” asked Hercules.

“No,” said Maria, looking over the files. “I’m betting they’re both keeping the items as trophies.”

“Or giving them to a significant other as gifts,” you interjected.

“All good ideas. We’ll talk more on the jet. Wheels up in 30,” Gwash commanded.

Keep reading

Title: The Family Business
Author: punkascas
Artist: Coplins
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas (background Dean/Others, Cas/Others)
Warnings/Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder Husbands, Rough Sex, Mental Health Issues, Non-Graphic References to Underage, Boxing, Jealousy, Pining, Dean and Cas Raise Claire, Angst with a Happy Ending
Posting Date: 11/6/2017

Summary:   Chicago, 1941. With the 1930s over and war in Europe threatening to involve the US, the crime bosses of the Prohibition Era should be dead and gone. But Dean and Castiel Winchester—better known as the Winchester Brothers, along with their gang, The Family Corporation—refuse to be relegated to history. Over the years,, they’ve managed to build a small but stable criminal empire in Chicago. The newspapers hail them as the gangster prodigies of Al Capone and Baby Face Nelson: crime lords for a modern era.  

Politicians like to carouse with the criminal and celebrity elite at Dean Winchester’s nightclub. Police line the pockets of his coat, from petty beat cops all the way to captains of the force. No one’s talking. No one can seem to stop them.  

Except maybe one man. Special Agent Sam Campbell knows all about the so-called Winchester Brothers. Years ago he swore as his personal mission to bring them down, ever since he recognized a face in an old newspaper photo. That was the day he learned that his brother Dean was still alive.

- - -

Before they left Chicago, Dean pulled Meg into his office and demanded she tell him how to make Cas better. How to fix him. He threw out every possibility he could think of: better drugs, different drugs, more drugs. More boys. Whatever it would take to keep Cas calm, content, contained.

He remembers the pristine white of Meg’s nurse’s uniform seemed almost blinding under the office lamps. She looked him straight in the eye and offered him the hammer needed to pound the final nail in Cas’s coffin.

“You really think his diagnosis is the issue?”

“I need him stable,” Dean growled back at her. “I need him goddamn predictable. We’re running a business here.”

Meg only gave him a pitying smirk. “When has Clarence ever been predictable? You should know. Out of anyone, you have the most perversive knowledge of him.”

His revolver rested on some papers. Idly he picked it up, cradling it against his chest while he kicked his heels up on the desk, and wielded his most charming grin. That was the true weapon here. Green eyes, and wide, white shark teeth.

“Pervasive. I think you meant to say. The Family Corporation doesn’t appreciate the spreading of unsubstantiated and scandalizing rumors, Miss Masters. We’re a polite society here. Gossip is rude. And bad for business. And while I can be a gentleman, I am resolutely a businessman first.”

His thumb cocked the pistol’s hammer back slowly. He relished how loud a quiet sound could be in a tiny room.

“Of course, Mr. Winchester,” Meg simpered in false flattery. She wasn’t the type of dame to be intimidated. It was one of the qualities that let her prevail as Cas’s nurse. She planted her palms on the center of his desk, leaning into his space, into the threat of the gun. “But if you’re hoping those pills the doctors prescribe or those boys he parades around the club are the answer, you’ll be sadly disappointed. Castiel, he’s a force of nature, and nature is never predictable, Winchester. Nature can never play by the rules of gentlemen. So what you’re asking me is not how to curb some misbehavior, but how to stop Castiel from being Castiel. And I think we both know there’s only one solution to that.”

Her eyes were dark, glittering with contempt, but there was also that same sad resignation that had been in Rufus’s eyes. In Bobby’s. In Benny’s. A look that said they all knew a truth Dean was too sentimental to admit to himself.

“Get out,” he told her then, and threw the revolver against the door once it closed behind her. It hadn’t been loaded in the first place.

Far from Chicago, Dean looks at Cas as they are now: at the curve of his bare shoulder; at the shapes of the muscles in his arm; at the way his trousers slope low around his hips. Cas of course is too distracted to pull them up. It’s a sight Dean has known since what feels like the moment he first knew consciousness. Fingers curled loosely around his forgotten cigar, grey winter smoke for a grey winter sky, Cas has gone lost himself in thought at the window.

Here they could be anyone. Two pseudonyms in an anonymous hotel room. They could go anywhere. Away from Chicago. From the gang. From business. Dean could live his thirties the same way he lived the first three decades of his life, with Cas as the dark center around which his world spins.




Pairing: Reader x Bucky (eventually)
Word Count: 859
Warnings: Angst(?), sexism, swearing

A/N: This new fic series is inspired by this post. I hope you guys like this one!

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

This starts off being set during the events of CA:TWS

Deep in concentration, the office around you melts away. Your eyes were boring into the police report in your hands, reading and rereading your writing to make sure that you hadn’t made a mistake that would let a drug dealer you’d arrested get off. It wasn’t your first arrest of your career, but it was your first as a detective and not a beat cop. You were determined not to let your male dominated precinct have any more reasons to undermine you.

“Y/N? Hello? Anyone home?” Dale Kline’s, your partner, voice breaks through to you,

“What? Sorry,” you mumble, looking up briefly from the report, “What’s up?”

“Chief wants that report now,” he raises his eyebrows as he cocks his heads towards the papers held in your hands,

“Sure,” you slowly nod, knowing very well that you weren’t done with it yet and the police chief was going to have to wait a little longer,

“Hey darl,” one of the many male detective’s call to you, “Can you take this with you? And grab me a coffee on the way back, will ya?”

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anonymous asked:

HI! I saw you were writing itasaku fanfics and I was wondering if you could do a soulmate themed fic of them! THANK YOU <3

title Red Thread 
summary You just really get me.
pairing Itasaku


Four drops of water raced down the window pane. He leaned against it, staring out at the street below. When he pulled away, his fingerprints had smeared onto the glass. Teeth clenching around his pen, he swiveled away. His chair squeaked. He stared at the numbers on his computer screen.

“Fucking shit. S’gonna rain,” Hidan grumbled from his desk. He turned away from the window too. 

“I’m going out for a smoke before it does,” Kakuzu said, already pulling his jacket off the back of his chair. He tugged his mask down, the elastic loops stretching from behind his ears. Hidan’s glare followed him all the way out.

“He’s had ‘allergies’ for like a month now. He ever think it’s because he smokes a pack a day?” Hidan muttered. 

“Good. Hope the both of you die,” declared Kisame, leaning back in his chair.

“Detective,” reprimanded Itachi without looking up.

“I’m not sorry, Itachi. Those two committed an unforgivable sin. I hope Jashin strikes them both with lightning,” Kisame huffed. He got out of his seat with his mug. 

“Dumbass. Jashin doesn’t do lightning. It’s more severing heads,” snickered Hidan. Kisame grabbed the warm carafe, shaking his head.

“Good. Even better. Hope he cuts off your head and then hits you with lightning,” amended Kisame.

“All we did was eat your ice cream. When are you going to let that go, man?” Hidan said under his breath.

“When you buy me more Chunky Monkey!” Kisame yelled back.

Keep reading

Isobel Gowdie, and the people around her, were dying. I don’t mean “dying a little every day” in the lame new-age Tibetan philosophy sense of the word; I mean people were dropping dead, often due to overwork and malnutrition. Kids were especially hit hard by this fact of life in 17th century Scotland. The “landlords” charged people heavily for the privilege of living on “their” land- and though it doesn’t sound like much, people like Isobel couldn’t plant, grow, reap, and process their own harvest yields until all of that work was done on the lord’s personal estate- a service they had to provide for free.

Many people didn’t have their own ovens; they had to pay to use common ovens at the lord’s estate, just to bake bread. These lords held practical imperium over people’s lives and deaths- they could execute people, hang them right outside the front door, for lots of things. But the cruelest of powers was simply the power to hold the keys to the silo- if there was a food shortage, and the lords didn’t want to open the silo for one reason or another, people just starved. Again, bear in mind that it’s children and elderly people that will suffer the most from such things, and they did.

That people like Isobel and her witching covenant members would be murdered if caught while engaged in practices as innocuous-seeming to us as making a charm for healing or hexing in the corner of the little huts they were crowded into with their families is just the icing on the cake.

It is beyond belief that some people still hold on to the ridiculous notion that witches- like Isobel and her compatriots- didn’t perform malefic magic. We know they did. She admitted it, and not under coercion. And they had _every reason_ to do it. “Class struggle” doesn’t even begin to sum up the nightmare that she lived, and saw so many people die by- and which probably killed her, too.

Inequality and brutal injustice wasn’t the exception in her time; it was the rule. It was the hard and unstoppable rule. And sorcery was the only effective way that people from Isobel’s “lot in life” had to strike back at the authorities that held the weights of life and death over her head and the heads of everyone else- the only way that offered a chance to covertly and savagely strike, and not get killed themselves.

And it worked. It’s there, in the histories; it worked right before everyone’s eyes, in ways that the skeptics of today would deny- surely it wasn’t sorcery that struck down the infant sons of the wicked lord whose house Isobel and her friends wanted to see come to an end; surely it was just natural causes. Infant mortality was high back then, these people love to point out. Only scared people who want to dismiss the uncomfortable and deep realities of our lives want the darkness of our past to be accommodated to this degree. Their calm rationality hides a deep and proper fear. Yes, Isobel and her people struck out at infants, with malefic sorcery, to thwart the existence of oppressive lordly houses. Yes, they tried to destroy the free souls of adult tyrants. Yes, they succeeded to a degree.

Everything about Isobel Gowdie’s primary work of witchcraft was laced with a hatred- a valid hatred- of the oppressor class. She saw dead, skinny women in the streets with dead children still stuck to their breasts. She saw horrors that we today can’t believe actually happened in Scotland- or anywhere- in such a recent time of history. She knew that the powerful and well-fed people in their manor houses were partly to blame. She knew, and the Red Reiver- her familiar spirit- knew. He helped her destroy them. The “Devil” of her Coven helped them. Everything about their coven, outside of its death-divination vocational center, was fashioned around overthrowing authorities and thwarting their prosperity in this world. It’s all right in front of us, only we will not see it for a variety of reasons.

How can anyone who claims to fly through this present darkness and anywhere _near_ the mysteries of pre-modern Witchcraft actually be _for_ the word of “authorities?” The powerful class is still there, and people still drop dead because of their over-taking. It just gets hidden a bit better, because new and potent social perceptions of fairness have arisen, and more checks and balances now exist for certain kinds of ostentatious displays of power- but the core inequality still exists, and it is still lethal. Organized exploitation has only gotten infinitely stronger since those days, not weaker.

How can anyone who even plays around with the title “Witch” see a story wherein some cop shoots a person for no real reason, or throws a person to the ground for no real reason, and then actually say “if people would just do what they were told, and respect the police, that wouldn’t happen?”

No witch who loves or obeys the strange, rather chaotic urges of the Master who tramples oppressors and “authorities” under his razor-sharp hooves can linger on the side of “law and order” for very long, especially when it is now more apparent than it ever has been that “law and order” is a cute way of referring to the act of sweeping up largely disadvantaged and disenfranchised people and sweeping them into the prison industry’s enslaved work force.

No one who knows what freedom is can be happy or even blithe to see cops beating people with sticks, or army units marching in lock-step. Witchcraft is not a feature of human culture that can park itself right next to conservative politics and their super-wealthy fat cat financial backers and their jackbooted evangelical allies.

You don’t get to have this one both ways. Witches have more natural affinity with homeless people under bridges and petty crooks hustling to survive on the outskirts of society, than it does with most anyone else. The whore, and not the virgin or the holy one, is the ally of witches, because they both know what it means to be thrown away like human garbage.

Witches don’t delight in chains or conformity to systems created by churches and bankers. They delight in watching those things burn down, and in working with the spirits who aim to do just that. Witchcraft is, shortly put, naturally anti-corruption, anti-corporate, anti-clerical, and even anti-civ in some important ways.

There was no hesitation, no moral debate- people that deserved it, got what was coming to them. When those people got their chance, they killed witches like Isobel right back. Some people might not even have deserved it, but they got it anyway, because things are wobbly and not clean and not always fair. In a dark, dingy, corrupt system, everyone is splashed with mud and the innocent can seem guilty. Bad people make everyone’s life a challenge and quite unsafe.

And this is all before there was a perception of the danger posed by environmental destruction. Do you really imagine that the sacred sources of all life, which are being heartlessly degraded in the pursuit of the same money and resource control that killed so many people in Isobel’s time is not a legitimate issue for sorcerers? Can people really not see another finger of the same hand of oppression in it all?

One of the best things about Wilby’s book “The Visions of Isobel Gowdie” is how it presents the savagery of sorcery as it was engaged in the struggle of class warfare that was going on then, just as it goes on now, only in a barely-disguised new form. New freedoms are had by all of us- like my freedom to even write this post- but the lords have found a way to make sure that even these freedoms don’t interrupt their ultimate goals. There’s no need to kill any of the loudmouths anymore, really, and the sorcerers just the same- no one believes in that malarkey anymore, anyway.

But the rage of it all, the anger, the dark rapture and passion- it was all there, and it was a real storm of wrath and back-and-forth killing, and retribution from a sorcerous place as much as from the altar and judge’s bench. This is our real legacy, if we consider ourselves devotees of the spirit of any pattern of pre-modern sorcerous practice. We aren’t pretty; we’re ugly from the point of view of most people these days, who are all taught from birth that law and order is pretty. But for those who really understand, “fair is foul and foul is fair…”

- Robin Artisson

No Matter What (Part 1)

Prompt: Imagine you’re an Avenger and you meet Bucky for the first time during Civil War

Word Count: 1861

Warning: Language, fighting, violence, angst

Notes: This will follow Cap America: Civil War…. Thanks to my beta @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejulesworld @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis  @bubblyanarocks3@thefridgeismybestie@random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens

Sebastian Stan Tag: @nedthegay @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange @buenostardissherlock  @lenawiinchester@the-red-world-of-jess-chibi@memory-of-a-goldfish @mellsstark

Steve Rogers: @camigt1999

Bucky Barnes: @nedthegay @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester


“Alright. What do you see?” you heard Steve’s voice in your ear.

Steve Rogers, your absolute best friend in the world. Or maybe he was more like a dad? You weren’t sure of your relationship really. All you knew is you owed him your life when he saved you from being gunned down in the streets of Germany. You had a special ability, one that some people didn’t seem to like. You could manifest objects, things, weapons. They came in a light blue, electric looking form around you. The only thing about it was that the object had to be touching you at all times. You couldn’t form a gun and shoot bullets, form a bow and shoot arrows, or form a glider for someone else to jump on.

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Good Girl Ch 32: Wrapped Around My Finger

“They are going to have a field day with this,” Jiyong sighs to himself before leaning towards me and whispering, “I’m going to need to put my arm around you.”

I stop in the building entry way to glare up at him, “What?”

He huffs, “I’m not hitting on you for once, it just that there are going to be a lot of people staring at us and I want to make it clear you are taken, even though it’s not by me.”


He is surprisingly hesitant to actually do it though, so I pity the suddenly cute man and take his arm and put around my shoulders. Ten feet behind us a chorus of hoots and other cheer rings out, Jiyong just glares back at them. We walk out into the chilly weather on to a nice busy street. It’s only 7 but the sun is already going down. He holds me closer as we join the crowd, I don’t mind too much only because he’s really warm. We walk for a quiet ten minutes down the nice street, glancing at the cafes and shops, it isn’t until we turn a few times that I begin to understand the whole arm around my shoulders and safety thing.

We aren’t in the nice luxurious area anymore, and even though the street is filled with mom and pa shops there is a strange atmosphere about it. There are creepy looking men and women in not enough clothing for such temperatures. I actually find comfort with Jiyong’s arm around me and his friends tailing behind us. Even though I doubt any of these people would mess with us, most of them are either shaking in their boots or just straight up running away. It’s kind of amusing, I used to seeing people doing that to my daddies at school, but it’s different seeing grown men run away compared to high schoolers.

Glancing up I see that Jiyong has a major bitch face going on, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the guys following us or if it’s just for show but it kind of scares me. Behind us his friends, well most of them are footmen, are wearing a matching bitch face. I’m kind of freaked out by how they all actually look like thugs for a second. The four oldest are leading the pack with their hands in their pants pockets and their eyes set on us. Junhoe and his friends are scanning the area around us, making sure no one is planning on trying anything funny. Jiyong leads me into one of the little traditional style restaurants. A bald old man greets us right as we enter, he bows to Jiyong and looks at me with surprise in his thin eyes.

“Knock it off old man,” Jiyong snaps as he kicks off his shoes and nudges them to the side. He crouches down next me and helps me take off my shoes before setting them neatly next to his own. I say nothing as he takes my hand and leads me into the empty restaurant. We sit down at the center table on the floor, my legs are crossed neatly while his stretch out under the small table and rest with one on each side of me. “My usual and than whatever those idiots want,” He tells the still gawking old man. The others join us in the room, they push two tables together and sit comfortably a few spots away. Of course the old man nods before scrambling away.

“I always forget you are a gangster.”

Jiyong blinks at me for a few seconds, “What do you mean?”

“You are always so sweet and gentle with me that I forget that you are the black dragon of Korea,” I stare down at the ring on my hand.

“Is that good or bad?”

I shrug, “It’s nothing really.”

“Do any of them set your alarms off?” Jiyong says without looking away from me.

“No, at least they didn’t make them scream.”

“What about Seunghyun hyung?”

I nod, “He still makes them go off.”

“What about Youngbae? You seemed a little unnerved when you met him.”

“I’m not sure,” I glance toward their table to find most of them watching us.

“What does that mean? You usually know right away.”

“He doesn’t set them off but he makes me nervous.”

He nods in understanding, “Who taught you about foot soldiers?”

“My daddies, Tao and Lay, were talking about their foot solider days and Kai yelled at yours.”

“Wow, Lay told you about his foot solider days?” He looks so surprised.

“Not really, hazy details.”

“Smile, you seem so down. Are you not happy to be here?” There is no angry or jealousy in his eyes, just guilt.

I shake my head, “It’s just weird seeing you looking so cold.”

“I look cold?”

“God this is sounds rude.”

“Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m being weird, I can forget to turn it off every once awhile. Plus I’m a bit on edge having so many people seeing us together.”

“Lets forget about them,” I smile at him. “You have all of my attention for the whole weekend, you better make the most of it.” The weird atmosphere is shaken off as we smile at each other. Our conversation gets back it’s usual playfulness, we laugh and joke, earning weird looks from the only other table in the restaurant. The old man brings our food out, a large bowl of noodles is set in front of me and a pot of tea is in the middle. Time flies like normal but a nosy young blond man interrupts it.

“So Jooyoung-ssi,” Seungri says as he sits down next to me. Daesung is on my other side staring at me with so much interest.

“Yes?” I look from each man with a confused look.

“Why aren’t you afraid of us?” Seungri wonders out loud. They all watch me with such focus I begin to sweat.

I look to Jiyong for help but he only gives me a look that tells me to give them the answer he’s expecting, “You don’t set off my alarms.”

“Your alarms?” It’s Youngbae who questions me this time, why does he have to come over. He sits down on the other side of the table with Jiyong.

I sigh, “I’m very good at sensing people’s character, or at least I’m good at figuring out if that person is a threat.”

Seunghyun scoffs as he joins us as well, “It must be broken. You seem to surround yourself with very threatening people.”

“They aren’t a threat to me.”

“What makes you so sure?” Seunghyun cocks his head at me.

“I’m still here aren’t I? Look, I know it’s weird but the way my head works is very selfishly. I could see a person do terrible things but as long as I know they won’t harm me, my alarms stay quiet. Which is how all of this stuff started in the first place.”

“We never heard about how that happened,” Daesung leans closer.

“I was at a club, there was a shoot out, I climbed out the back window with my friend, I saw Xiumin kill some innocent guy, they debated on whether they should keep me or not, I said I wanted to go along with them, and after that it turned into rainbows and sunshine.”

“Rainbows and sunshine?” Seungri scoffs.

“I’m surrounded by attractive men all day who spoil me with attention and gifts. My world is nothing but sunshine and rainbows. I would be ungrateful to say otherwise.” They all hum in understanding, Jiyong gives me a small smile. The atmosphere is only slightly hostel because of Seunghyun’s presence, but other than that the others are actually really warm towards me. After awhile Seungri and Daesung tell me to call them oppa too since we will apparently be seeing more of each other. They continue asking their questions and in turn they let me ask a few of my own, and it surprised me how they answered without hesitation. Jiyong stops them a couple of times if they give me too much detail about something he thinks is too gory for me.

Our fun is ruined by someone busting into the restaurant, the familiar man walks in like he owns the place, but I’m 90% Jiyong does. The men around me glare at the new comer, Junhoe and his friends get up from their seats and stand in between the police and where we sit. I turn around to full face him, Daesung and Seungri follow suit.

“No need to look so hostel boys,” Detective Lee says casually, a few beat cops are behind him.

“This is a private party,” The leader of Junhoe’s friends says coming forward, standing toe to toe with the detective.

“Hanbin,” Lee pats the younger on the head as if they are close but I see the younger flinch. “It’s been awhile. It’s good to see that you surrounded yourself with good people.” I don’t know why I feel so annoyed by his actions, I know Hanbin can take care of himself but I for some reason feel the need to step in.

“What are you doing here?” Hanbin continues to glare at the man.

“I heard that Mr. Jiyong was walking around with a friend,” Lee looks past the group of boys to stare at me. “Nice to see you again Miss. Jooyoung. You always seem to have a group of men around you, how do you do it?” He raises a brow at me and I don’t know whether I should be insulted or disgusted.

“Watch your mouth detective,” Jiyong warns with a terrifying growl.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult her. Poor thing is probably sensitive,” I get irritated by his fake sympathy. He pushes past the group of boys who watch Jiyong for orders.

“That’s close enough don’t you think detective?” Youngbae snaps.

“I just want to get a better look at the little thing that was able to wrap the 13 most powerful men in Asia wrapped around her little fingers. That’s impressive, can you tell me something?” He crouches down a few feet away from me with a disgusting smirk on his face. “Do they all fuck you at the same time or is it more groups of three or four?” I’m on my feet in seconds ready to kick they guy in the face but Seungri kicks him on his back before me, a very pissed off look on his face.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t say such dirty things to my little friend,” Seungri cracks his knuckles as he continues to glare.

“Don’t tell me the little slut got you too?” Lee chuckles as he props up on his elbows.

Daesung is standing over him, the sweet man doesn’t look so sweet anymore with his foot on Lee’s neck and a killer look in his eye. “Jiyong hyung said to watch your fucking mouth. Who our friend is and is not fucking, is none of your fucking business. Understand?”

Lee nods, he taps on Daesung’s foot in a panic for air. I don’t feel bad as he gasps for air, or when he looks like he’s about to cry. Jiyong standing up, takes my hand and leads me to the exit. He slips on his shoes before sweetly putting mine on for me.

“I’m sorry about that,” Jiyong wraps his arm around me like before as we walk outside, the others aren’t far behind.

“Thank you,” I say to him and look back at Seungri and Daesung, who are a few steps behind us with their gangster faces on, “Thank you guys too for standing up for me.”

Daesung’s face falters at my words, “He’s an ass.”

“To make up for having such a great time ruined I have a surprise for you,” Jiyong beams at me. But you need to close your eyes.” Jiyong smiles at me.

“I feel like she’s the type to peek,” Seungri teases.

“Hanbin, can you hand me your beanie?” Daesung holds his hand out expectantly to the younger man. I feel bad when the younger hands it over without question. Jiyong takes off my snap back and replaces it with the already warm beanie. I snatch my hat back from him and leave his warmth to place my hat on Hanbin’s head. He is surprised by my actions but I just smile.

“To make sure you get your hat back I’ll leave you mine for now.” I turn on my heel without another word and take my place at Jiyong’s side again. He pulls the beanie down over my eyes so I can’t peek before wrapping his arm securely around my waist for safety reasons.

“You are so trusting,” Seunghyun clicks his tongue at me.

“I’ve been alone with Jiyong many times, if he wanted to do something bad I’m pretty sure he would have done it by now,” I snap back.

He scoffs, “Maybe he was just waiting for the right time?” Jiyong’s grip on me tightens, but I feel nothing but comfort from him.

“Even if he wants to kill me, there isn’t much I can do about it now, is there?” I look in the eldest’s direction.

“She has a point there Hyung, we got her,” Daesung’s voice comes from my other side, a lot closer than before.

“Will you guys stop saying stuff like that? I’ve told you about this many times.” Jiyong growls at them.

“About what?” I wonder.

“He is horrified of you being afraid of him. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before,” Dae tells me.

“Shut your mouth,” My oppa snarls between grit teeth.

“Don’t worry Oppa, you don’t scare me.”

They continue to tease my poor oppa about his weakness for me, I can’t help but blush at their silly words. We walk for awhile, I can hear other people talking and walking by; cars zoom down the street. A door opens and I’m brought inside a quiet building. Behind me the boys are laughing and whispering, I’m excited and nervous about where I could be.

Jiyong flips the hat up revealing a dark room. All I can see is his handsome smile and his shining eyes that make me smile so big my face hurts. Then the lights flip on and machines start going and suddenly I’m staring in aw at the empty amusement park in front of me.

“You didn’t rent out an amusement park for me,” I say gawking dumbstruck.

“I didn’t rent it out, I know the owner,” He quick tries to calm my worries.

“What kind of person do you have connections with that would own an amusement park?”

“That would be me,” Daesung says in a singsong way.

“Never mind I’m not that surprised.” I wave the kind man away, something he finds cute and laughs. “Oppa lets go on that one!” I point to a tall roller coaster that forms one pig loop.

“Lets go!”

Okay, so.. imagine…

A few days after their ‘break up’ Betty decides she needs to see Jughead. She goes to the trailer. She’s a wreck. Emotionally, mentally, physically. Knocks on the door. Jughead opens the door; Betty gasps. He’s even more of a mess. Not to mention; from the thorough beating he copped just a few days earlier. Cuts and bruises. Betty immediately cups his face, forgetting about herself and what she’s going through. She pushes him into the trailer, and back onto the couch. Taking in the horrific state of the trailer, she runs to the bathroom and gets cotton buds, a warm wet face cloth and bandaids.

Jughead is still in shock that Betty is there. And not only there, but is straight away wanting to make sure he’s okay. They sit in silence on the couch as Betty starts to mend to his wounds. She doesn’t have to do much; as he did try and clean up as much as he could after it happened. She reaches up to touch his arm, and notices that he flinches. Betty pushes down his sleeve and cannot hide the visible shock that washes over her face - Jughead swallows hard as he sees the colour drain from Betty’s face. She gently runs her finger over Jughead’s newly acquired Serpent tattoo.

It doesn’t take long for a heated argument to follow. Shouting at each other, silence, tears and more shouting. It goes on for hours. It’s almost midnight and the trailer is silent. It’s deafening. Amongst the silence, however, the unmistakable combined sounds of heartbreak and realization flood the trailer - pounding hearts, quiet sobs and the heavy breathing can be heard.

With Betty quietly breaking the silence, as she sits on the floor, looking up at an exhausted Jughead - she whispers, in the most vulnerable of tones, “god, I’ve missed you.”

When your lady friend uses your pet name for the reservation.

Yeah I ship it. They probably argue a lot. I’d imagine this date was going pretty well until an argument broke out and the police had to be called.
And then your boyfriend doesn’t like the way the cop is grabbing you, THEY start arguing, he kicks the cop’s ass, and then the OTHER cop’s ass and you forget what you were arguing about cause damn does he look good beating down a cop while in a suit.

5 Retro Manga Recs For Grown Ups

When we think “retro,” we think super-old shows for kids. If you’re looking for something with something to suit your grown-up tastes, the panel “20 Retro Manga Recomendations for Grown-Ups” by Xan Villanueva was happy to oblige.

Here are five of our favorite picks for adults from the panel:

Black Jack (1973 - 1983)

A still-beloved medical drama by “god of manga” Osamu Tezuka. Tezuka was a doctor before he was a manga artist, and this is his avatar. Black Jack is an underground unlicensed surgeon—he can do just about anything but you’ll have to pay up.

From Eroica With Love (1976 - 2012)

This LGBT crime comedy greatly influenced slash doujinshi in Japan.  It’s follows a thief who is rich but steals things because it’s fun. Definitely not for kids!

Cooking Papa (1985 - Present)

This cooking comedy features a salaryman named Asuma. Everyday he has an excellent bento box his colleagues think his wife cooked. What no one knows is that his wife can’t cook, and he’s the family chef. Every volume includes recipes, too.

You’re Under Arrest (1986 - 1992)

A story about two beat cops: Natsume can’t drive, and her partner is a driving nut. Oh, and she’s the daughter of a pro-wrestler who uses her moves to subdue criminals.

Pink (1989)

An over-the-top josei story about a woman who wants to feed her pink crocodile (and yes, that’s a double entendre). It’s a very strange and amazing story about how romance doesn’t always go the way you want it to.

(Screenshot via Cooking Papa, which is also an anime.)

—John, AB Staff Blogger

Solidarität mit dem Riot/ solidarity with the riot

Ich weigere mich, mich von “Randalierern” und “Chaoten”, die ein paar teure Autos angezündet und diverse Läden geplündert haben, zu distanzieren, solange Kapitalismus weltweit Menschen systematisch entrechtet, an Europas Grenzen Geflüchtete zu Tausenden sterben und die Polizei in Hamburg Knochen bricht und Menschen in Lebensgefahr bringt.

Wütender Protest gegen diese Scheiße ist legitim, und solange keine unschuldigen Menschen zu Schaden kommen, werde ich den Teufel tun, das zu diskreditieren. Wer nicht in der Hamburg war, als Bullen Journalist*innen und Anwohner*innen zusammengeschlagen haben, bei Festnahmen Leute bewusstlos geschlagen haben und Demonstrant*innen teilweise in Lebensgefahr durch ihre Gewaltbereitschaft gebracht haben, hat gefälligst die Fresse zu halten, darüber, ob es legitim war, sich mit brennenden Barrikaden, Steinen und Molotovs zu verteidigen und seine Wut an direkt vor den eigenen Augen stehenden Strukturen des Kapitals auszulassen.


I refuse to distance myself from “rioters”, who torched a few expensive cars and looted some stores, as long as capitalism is still systemically denying human rights to people, refugees are dying by the thousands on the coast of Europe and the police is breaking bones and threatening peoples lives with their violence in Hamburg.

Angry protest against this bullshit is legitimate, and as long as no innocent people are harmed, I fucking refuse to discredit that. To those who weren’t present in Hamburg as cops beat up journalists and random residents, knocked people unconcious during arrests and were actively endangering human life through their violence: Shut the fuck up about whether or not it’s legitimate to defend oneself with burning barricades, stones and molotovs or to vent your anger and hate on the structures of capitalism right in front of your eyes.