bullhorns

  • shiro back on earth and drinking a well deserved glass of wine: *sigh* finally
  • Keith, plucking the glass out of his hand: whoa whoa little man i know it's been a while but minors still can't drink
  • shiro staring at his empty hand: keith....if i don't have that drink back in my hand in the next ten seconds i swear i will steal your diary and a bullhorn and recite every corny poem you made about lance's 'azure eyes' in front of the garrison outside lance's dorm room
  • keith: ......you don't know where my--
  • shiro: it's in a panel behind your bed
  • keith, putting the drink back and backing away slowly:
  • keith: geez someone forgot to take a nap today
  • shiro: *tosses the wine back in one gulp*

Blue and Henry ask Gansey to aglionby prom with an incredibly obnoxious sign that they made together at 300 fox way. it’s covered it glitter and scraps of fabric and pictures of Madonna (@henry) and says something like “don’t be a dick go to prom with us” or “we need some dick on prom night” or “fist prom, then Venezuela” they ask him in the middle of the aglionby quad one day as school gets out. blue is standing on a table with the sign. Henry has a bullhorn. gansey is touched.

WANTED: ADVISOR FOR NATIONAL SECURITY

Requirements:
•rich, white, Christian male age 40-55
•vast knowledge of what makes someone a “bad hombre” or “one of the good ones”
•Must be willing to shout RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORIST with a bullhorn at every press conference
•knows the definition of the words “national” and “security”
•must be willing to perform a blood sacrifice for both the president of the United States and the president of russia.

Note:
•ownership in Trump stock or properties is not a requirement, but is preferred
•all applicants must be able to shoot at least 5 under par and have their own set of clubs

anonymous asked:

concept: any legends ot3 hosting a podcast called 'my lover, my lover, and me.' all the goofs, some bad time travelling advice. nate always ends his questions with "am i good?"

okay but like, i feel like knowing this team the rotation of whatever 3 people it is changes weekly- sara, len, and mick are no longer allowed to be a trio because their solution to every problem was “eeeeh… kill em” 

jax, kendra, and amaya are the fan-favorite trio, much to sara’s unending jealousy that she’s not included

stein, kendra, and carter do an episode once and it’s a combination of carter and stein unknowingly being the Guy in Your MFA about advice until kendra has to start playing bullhorn sounds over them combined with stein graphically talking about the cervix and which sexual position is best for conception, before reminding them that it’s always best to conceive on the sabbath for good luck 

rip gets stuck with ray and nate one time and like ray isn’t even funny, he’s just a really genuine thoughtful person and it’s 40 minutes of rip banging his head against his microphone while nate says “you’re so smart, ray, wow” and sighs prettily

cisco sends in a question when he knows len will be on that reads “i’m banging lisa snart. no question end of statement” and len is just like “FIRST OF ALL” to which sara goes “no of us ARENT banging her” and 30 minutes of unrepentant swearing later

amaya sara and kendra remaking “girl code” but it’s 100% more violent than girl code and i think everyone is better for it

sara calling laurel at least once an episode so laurel can give the question-asker “legal advice” and laurel always answers with “sara it’s 3 AM” or “sara the south side of the city is on fire” or “hey sara it’s felicity i’m inside your sister right now? but i’ve watched how to get away with murder so i’m pretty law-savvy”

somewhere out there bruce wayne is listening to this and is like “banned. all of them banned”

Road Trip {Holland}

Originally posted by stallingdemons

Requested: Yes - Anon

Synopsis: Your best friend Harrison and his friends join you on a road trip to a holiday house where you meet the cast for the first time. You have to deal with an awkward situation due to sleeping arrangements, along with a surprising discovery.

Word Count:1342

Keep reading

me, standing on top of a car with a bullhorn in my hands: harry loves louis harry LOVES LOUIS HE’S THE BIGGEST LARRY OH MY GOD HE LOVES LOUIS HE LoVES!!!!!LOuis!!!!LARRY IS REAL!!!!hE…!!!!!JUS.TTT!!!!REALLY!!!!!LOVES,,,…!!! LOUIS

Hayley's a hateful b*%#h (18+) (Expansion)

Oh how the mighty have fallen. How could someone once the cream of the crop now be a national embarrassment? But to answer this question I have to go back. Her name was Hayley Winford. She was a rich, preppy, and popular upperclassmen at Montclair High. She spent her lunch periods with multiple different rich white lacrosse players on multiple different days. She was prom queen junior year, and prom queen senior year. Hayley had it all. Including a killer frame. She was a soccer player so she had a flat toned stomach she liked to show off at any occasion, toned thighs and a perky ass, and a pair of store bought double-d’s. If there was a stereotype for the white American teenager this was it.

It was only when the fat people hate Instagram page showed at Montclair High. She was an active contributor to the page and proud of it. She knew no matter how controversial and offensive the things she said were that she wouldn’t be punished. She was untouchable. She was notorious for roaming the halls and belittling any fat kids that wandered into her view. Still she was respected and loved, nothing was too far for her to not be under the umbrella of “Feisty”. Little did all of her friends and fans know what would happen to her next and how this whole incident would come back to bite her.
I
January 06, 2017: Hayley was on her usual walk home down the quiet suburban upper class neighborhood. For once she wasn’t walking with a friend or an ex or an ex-friend. Witnesses say a gray van pulled up next to her and honked its horn twice before a man wearing a black balaclava and black tank top grabbed her by the throat and dragged her into the back of the van. She wasn’t seen again for nearly 48 hours. In that time news stations across the country exploded with reports of the rich, white, Christian girl who’s been kidnapped. They broadcasted slideshows of hayley’s half naked body from her swimming days, pictures of her with her other white friends, pictures of her at Catholic school. The perfect missing white girl story. It was the perfect bite for newscasters to spew up. But a nightmare for Hayley Winford

Some students called it karma. Others called it terrorism. Some even called it an act of God. But all I know are the facts. January 9th, Wednesday morning 7:00 am. Students began to filter into Montclair High School all standing around on the campus green with cups of coffee waiting for their friends to show up. In the front of the school there was a large red curtain covering the school’s main stage. It drew students attention as they began to gather around. At the exact sound of the first bell, the curtain fell. It revealed Hayley Winford, standing on stage in a pair of panties and a bra, metal shackles around her ankles fixing her to the pole back stage. Students all gasped

“Hayley?” Frightened voices whispered through the crowd. “Yo, she’s hot af” a voice yelled from the audience. Student faculty members began sprinting towards the stage to get her down, when the loudspeaker system of the school turned on. A deep modulated voice called out “Take another step, and the girl dies.” The faculty members froze in their tracks and the audience fell silent.

“My name is unimportant, but my message is paramount.” The robotic voice said menacingly.

“The young woman you see before you is a supporter of hate speech, racism, and homophobia. She must be punished for her uncivilized treatment of others and abhorrent beliefs.” The voice droned. Chuckles of disbelief spread through the crowd, as is common when someone liked is criticized and accused of something. The projector secured to the film rooms window from the 4th floor of the building adjacent to the stage turned on and projected an image that was brightened by the dark morning sky.

“Don’t believe me?” The voice chuckled

A screenshot of a previously deleted conversation appeared against the wall displaying Hayley’s use of islamophobic and anti-refugee slurs. The crowd gasped as their image of this star student fell apart. Hayley said something for the first time since being revealed. “It’s not true! That’s fake!” She yelled out to the audience trying to win back their love and affection. The slideshow continued to a direct message between her and a on-campus BLM page, where she threw slurs and her beliefs in a drunken rage. The crowd gasped again, some people muttering phrases under their breath and insults.

“Never worship false idols” The voice said again. The last screenshot appeared showing a deleted comment she made on the profile of Charlie booker, star High School student who was killed in a drunk driving incident two months ago. She commented “Rot in hell man whore, that’s what happens when you have two dads, it’s god’s will” The entire crowd began to boo in unison, throwing trash and empty coffee cups onto the stage at Hayley who was now in tears.

“Now that I’ve shown you the truth behind this woman, I’m going to present you all with an ultimatum.” The robotic voice croaked. Hayley continued to sob, humiliated that her true wicked personality was revealed to hundreds of her peers.

“Over the last 48 hours your beloved student has been endowed with a curse, a curse with a great power that can only be activated by speech.” The voice claimed. The entire crowd scoffed once the words ‘curse’ were audible. Was this all a big act? An art display with Hayley as the main character? They all thought to themselves. Nearly the entire school was present in front of the stage now, faculty members frantically yelling into their comm devices while staying a certain amount away from the stage according to the demands of the terrorist.

The projector changed to a slide of a black slate. “A five letter word will appear on this slate.” The terrorist said. In big yellow font the letters. “B-I-T-C-H” flashed upon the wall. This was the moment everything got serious. None of the students really knew why they took it so seriously but a silenced hush spread across the crowd. The echo of the loudspeaker traveled across the campus, the only sound was that of the seagulls overhead.

“With each utterance of this word Hayley will exponentially change into the same group of people she has targeted and tormented all these years” The voice began to laugh before cutting off

“Alright students!” A teacher yelled into a bullhorn. “All students please stay silent, regardless of the validity of these claims we can’t take any chances! Please follow faculty members off campus!” The echoing of the voice grew quieter and quieter until silence. Students began to shuffled away from the stage. Until..

“BITCH!!” A guy’s voice yelled from the crowd as he ducked and hid his face. The crowd gasped and turned back to the stage in curiosity. “Stop!” Scattered through the crowd at the culprit, one man who was identified as Hayley’s ex-boyfriend chased after the guy full speed off campus grounds.

Hayley stood on the stage in her underwear, dried tears on her cheek. She shifted uncomfortably as the crowd’s eyes all moved to her, her shackles clanking with the movement of her legs. She began to breathe quickly. Her flat stomach began to groan and grumble, audible due to the silence of the crowd.

“W-Wha” She began to mumble incoherently while shaking her head. The hissing sound of air echoed across the stage. Her belly began to rise and grow. She placed her hands over her belly trying to push it.

“N-No!” She yelled

Her belly began to expand outwards taking the shape of a pregnant woman’s stomach, her tits rested on top. Her thighs began to grow,swallowing her panties.. As her ass grew fatter her undies wedged in between, creating a thong. Her body jiggled as she shifted nervously, tears pouring down her face. She tried to cover her breasts and pussy with her hand to no avail.
. “N-no!” She cried in disbelief. “Make it stop! Make it s- oooohhhh” she moaned out uncontrollably. Her body stopped growing, the air hissing hushed. She was left looking 20 pounds heavier, her pudgy belly nearly round, her double-d’s ever so rounder, her thighs and ass delightfully thicker. Hayley looked down at her body carefully as if she was an active bomb, an expression of terror on her face. She looked out to the hushed crowd, as if to beg “please don't”. You could’ve heard a pin drop, everyone frozen not knowing what to expect.
“BITCH!” The high pitched voice of a chubby Latina girl called out passionately, as if getting revenge. The crowd reacted instantly, girls gasping and some of Hayley’s friends sobbing in fear, some faces smiled, some faces laughed, and one just stared.
Hayley began to panic, crying again. The hissing began, louder this time. Hayley’s life was falling apart. She wanted to scream, cry, puke and piss herself all at the same time. She sobbed on the stage, everyone staring at her growing form. Her belly grew rounder, forming a fold on the side near her love handles. Her arms and wrist grew chubby, her hands staying the same size. Her thighs grew so wide that she had to adjust her stance and spread her legs apart. Her panties finally snapped, the elastic flying into the crowd. Some people cheered as if it was the final touchdown in a football game. Hayley’s legs began to shake, her knees turning towards one another. Her bra latch creaked and bent, her giant tits now overflowing the cups. *Snap!* Her bra flew into the crowd her round perky tit’s bouncing on top of her fat belly. “Noooo!!” She sobbed, trying to cover herself entirely ashamed.
“BITCH!” Another voice called out before running out of the crowd, avoiding lunges and punches thrown at him. He made it off campus, throwing up his hood as five lacrosse jocks chased him. Hayley’s body loudly rumbled, echoing over the panicking crowd. Hayley’s cheeks begin to puff out, her arms and legs chubby, her fat ass exposed as well as her puffy pussy, her tits beginning to leak breast milk. Hayley’s best friends are at the front of the stage, reaching out to their leader as she balloons and bloats.
“BLOAT BITCH, BLOAT!” A guy screamed. Hayley’s body quivers, the hissing increasing, she sobs a little bit harder every time someone screams the word.
“No more! Pweeease!!” She tried to yell through her chubby cheeks, flapping her arms. Her belly was round and taut, her arms beginning to become part of herself. It was like she was turning into a giant blueberry. The hissing continued, the crowd panicked, a mix of emotions. Hayley grew rounder and rounder, barely able to stand on her own. Her pussy began to get wet in front of the whole crowd, either from arousal confusion or fear.
“BITCH!” One voice yelled. “POP, FAT BITCH!” Another followed. Her legs could barely support herself. She collapsed under her own weight, her body jiggling in shock. Half the crowd cheered and chanted as she rolled into her beg, showing her ass and pussy to the audience. Her feet and hands flapped in detest.
“Bitch!” “Fuck you bitch!” “Racist bitch!” The insults kept coming, and Hayley kept growing, her body spherical. Her body groaned and freaked, reaching its limit. She just kept ballooning up, like a blimp. She was no longer the size of any girl she was nearly reaching the ceiling of the stage, filling the entire stage floor.”Bitch gonna pop!” One guy yelled, laughing to himself. The administration ran around in panic, trying to stop the kids from yelling and grabbing those who do. Nothing can stop the crowd, they all want to join in. Her giant body casting a shadow over the crowd. She’s nearly at capacity and she knows it, it’s amazing she made it this far. She whimpers and moans, her face surrounded by her inflated body. Her body creaks like a plastic balloon being rubbed. One kid from the crown calmly stood up, closing his laptop and sliding it into his satchel. He stood up and walked through the panicking chaotic crowd, coming out the other side and towards campus doors. He walked right out, phone in his hand as various police, students, and teachers ran past him towards the crowd. He stepped across the threshold. *BOOM* echoes across the campus and the streets surrounding, sending a shockwave followed by the screams of the crowd, both excited and horrified. The crowd began running and stampeding off campus. Yet this one student calmly waited for the public bus, not a care in his mind. As police zoomed around the block, sirens wailing. He boarded the bus, taking a seat. He pulled out his laptop and opened it. He opened a complicated script program. A blinking white dash over the text box. He began typing.
Back at the campus, the crowd dispersed, only leaving administrators stumbling around in panic and police officers arriving and parting off the crime scene. Over the loudspeaker the robotic voice begins. “Hayley is gone, along with her hatred and negative world views. That’s one down, a few billion to go. That’s a point for the good guys, the people who saw something, said nothing, and did something. This is only the beginning.” The voice echoes across the campus, everyone stopping in anticipation, total silence. The weight of the words and it’s threat lay over the crowd like a thick fog. *click*…the sound of white noise goes over the loudspeaker. The Mario death noise plays over the speaker before cutting off.
Back on the bus the boy sits, smiling at his screen. He closes the lid and puts the laptop away. Staring out the window as ambulances and fire trucks drive past.

He saw something. He said nothing. He did something.

August 17th, 2017: And that’s everything I know. Those are the facts. That’s what happened. I’m writing this letter because I am going away for a long time. You will not find me, you will never find me, so use this to remember and immortalize me and my actions. And know that across the world, somewhere I am doing the same to another person, another human who deserves to feel the karma of their actions. I will clean the world of them all, every last one. I’ve seen something, I’ve finally said something, and I’ve done something. Now It’s time to do it again.

-Yours truly, [REDACTED]

3

The black liberation group MOVE was founded in 1972 by John Africa (born Vincent Leaphart). Living communally in a house in West Philadelphia, members of MOVE all changed their surnames to Africa, shunned modern technology and materialism, and preached support of animal rights, revolution and a return to nature.

Their first conflict with law enforcement occurred in 1978, when police tried to evict them from their house. A firefight erupted, killing one police officer and injuring several more on both sides.

Nine members of the group were sentenced to 100 years in prison for the officer’s killing. In 1981, the group moved to a row house on Osage Avenue.

At their new headquarters, MOVE members boarded up the windows, built a fortified rooftop bunker and broadcasted profanity-laced political lectures with bullhorns at all hours, drawing complaints from neighbors. Members continued to rack up violations from contempt of court to illegal possession of firearms, to the point where they were considered a terrorist organization by the mayor and police commissioner.

On the morning of May 13, 1985, the police moved on the house.

Arriving with arrest warrants for four residents of the house, the police ordered them to come out peacefully. Before long, shooting began.

In response to gunfire from inside the house, more than 500 police officers discharged over 10,000 rounds of ammunition in 90 minutes. The house was hit with high-pressure firehoses and tear gas, but MOVE did not surrender.

Despite pleas for deescalation to the mayor from City Council President Joseph Coleman and State Senator Hardy Williams, Police Commissioner Gregore Sambor gave the order to bomb the house.

At 5:28 p.m., a satchel bomb composed of FBI-supplied C4 and Tovex TR2, a dynamite substitute, on a 45-second timer was dropped from a state police helicopter, detonating near the fortified pillbox on the roof of the house.

Within minutes, a fire had consumed the roof and begun to spread.

Firefighters, already fearful of being shot at by MOVE members, were told to let the fire burn.

The blaze raged out of control, spreading down the block of row houses and hopping the narrow streets.

By the time it was extinguished four hours later, 61 houses had been razed. Apart from a woman and 13-year-old boy who escaped when the fire started, everyone in the MOVE house was dead.

The 11 deaths included MOVE founder John Africa, five adults and five children between the ages of seven and 13.

Despite investigations and formal apologies, neither the mayor, nor the police commissioner, nor anyone else from the city was criminally charged.

http://mashable.com/2016/01/10/1985-move-bombing/