illegal yet

A super-powered version of the FAHC is an awful, unstoppable thing. Powered humans are rare, sure, but not unheard of; the Fake’s aren’t the only group out there defying reality in broad daylight. What makes them so remarkable, so formidable and distressingly hard to combat, is the way they use those powers. The way each member has taken their gift and twisted it, pulled and torn and stretched it to unforeseen territory, used their powers in ways no one else has even dreamed. Ways most could only imagine in their worst nightmares.

Ryan might be the most obvious example, the clearest illustration of the perversion of abilities, power turned on its head and used against its intention. He’s inspired them all, one way or another, to push their powers to the limits, into shapes they don’t belong in, powerful and strange and noticeably tarnished. On anyone else Ryan’s gift would be one of healing, of hope and restoration, empathetic and inherently altruistic. Its not a power most would associate with a life of crime, outside perhaps a medic, definitely not one most would pick for a mercenary, for the infamously deadly Vagabond. Ryan though, he’s never been one to let a little thing like reason set him back, never felt constrained by expectation, and he wasn’t about to let his powers derail his goals. Ryan has taken the ability to heal and broken it down into stages, approached inexplicable magic like a scientist, methodically identifying how to extract the exact elements he was after. He has the power to heal, yes, but what can be healed may also decay, that which can be stitched back together may just as easily be disassembled; it is no more difficult to displace blood than it is to correctly route it. With a touch Ryan can stop hearts, can rend tissue and implode organs. He can push natural reactions into overdrive, can encourage minor ailments into unstoppable disease, convince various systems to shut down without exposure to extreme circumstance. The only limit is Ryan’s own bountiful creativity, and while it might not be what people expect from the Vagabond he wouldn’t swap his abilities for anything.

Jeremy can change his density at will. Becoming immensely dense has some obvious uses in their world; bullets literally bouncing off his skin and fists that can shatter bones with a single punch, but becoming unnaturally light has just as many applications. Jeremy can change his weight mid-jump to achieve inhuman distance, can fall from great heights without a parachute, can climb sheer walls and hold his entire body up on the tip of a finger. There is no weight Jeremy cannot lift, no wall or door that can keep him out, let alone cuffs or bars to contain him. If Jeremy does not want to move there is physically no way to make him, and if he sets his sights on destroying something little can be done to stop him.

Geoff can communicate telepathically. This comes in handy when getting a hold of his crew, so long as they are within his range he can speak to them comms or no, but they are not the only ones he can speak to. All it takes is some connection, long term emotional links allow for greater distance but as long as Geoff is looking at someone he can get into their mind. Can sneer at police officers, whisper threats to rivals, force unsuspecting strangers to have the most peculiar thoughts and terrify anyone who tries to stand in his way. While Geoff can only really scrape through the top level of someones mind, more emotion and direct thoughts than any deep secrets, it is no great difficulty to convince people that he sees a lot more. Let them feel him poking around, quote a few stray thoughts back at them and suddenly not only do his victims believe he sees all but they are much more likely to think loudly about the very things they hope he doesn’t notice. Geoff can push images as easily as word, useful when sharing a story but even more so as a form of torture; he can fill minds with his darkest thoughts, plague dreams with images from his nastiest nightmares, provide a personalised hell that is impossible to escape from.

Michael controls heat. It’s a power people tend to fear, think it synonymous with mastery over fire, imagine sparking fingers and raging infernos. Which, to be fair, isn’t wholly inaccurate, but is hardly the extent of Michael’s power. He can create fire sure, can raise the temperature to extremes in pinpointed locations to ignite a room, but he doesn’t need to. Michael can press heat straight into a body, can warm someone up or cook them from the inside out, can burn slowly or kill in an instant. His powers extend to objects too, he can melt metals, boil water, absorb and deflect heat, and set off explosives. While people don’t associate it with him the way the do fiery rage, what can go up can of course also go down. Michael can drop the temperature, can produce dangerous frost and sharp ice shards, freeze someone in water and induce frostbite with a simple touch. Michael is completely unbothered by extreme temperatures, can render himself undetectable on thermal imaging cameras and change the temperature of objects so suddenly they shatter. Even those who flee aren’t safe; careening into danger as roads are  suddenly coated in black ice or bubble and melt beneath flaming tires.

Ray can multiply himself, a series of duplicates capable of drawing fire and completing simple tasks. They were once mere mindless echoes of his actual self, near translucent and noticeably different if you looked closely enough, quickly giving birth to the term Ghost Ray when describing them. They didn’t stay that way though, Ray quietly practising and practising until they not only solidified but he could split his conciousness between them, could act as all bodies simultaneously and be in half a dozen places at once. It’s disconcerting, the way they all look real now. The way they all are Ray now, will fade away like they were never there when Ray lets them go, or when they die, but until then he can be in any and all of them at once. It bears thinking about, considering some die. Considering one stays. Considering the way Ray doesn’t like to talk about it, practises late at night and sends his selves off on private missions, laughs and deflects and fades away.

Jack can manipulate the wind; her jets are always boosted and her cars caught and righted before they can ever spin out, while any who pursue her find themselves shoved off the roads. She can deflect bullets, catch plummeting bodies and stir up various weather phenomena. As though this was not enough Jack’s power over the air allows her to create small vacuums, granting her the ability to suck oxygen from a room. To steal it right out of lungs, suffocating her opponents without lifting a finger to touch them. Alone she is more than dangerous, but Jack has always worked best with others. Her powers are particularly effective when combined with Michael or Jeremy; catching Jeremy up and hurling him like a canon ball and taking ice or flame and whirling them into deadly tornadoes. She can, just as effectively, force them all to calm down when things start getting out of hand; wind separating fights, extinguishing fires, airless pockets keeping anyone from storming away in a huff, and being sudden drenched by rain provides a wholly undignified end to any petty squabbles.

Gavin’s power is all about luck. It’s not the most exciting power at first glance; he can see probabilities, split-second calculations that manifest in inexplicable feelings, knowing just when to duck, when to take a detour, when to blow off a meeting and stay home instead. It’s not a power most people would associate with violent crime, rather imagine lotto winnings and effortless celebrity, but most people aren’t Gavin. It was simple intuition at first; shoot now, trust him, buy the ticket, check your phone. But Gavin, being Gavin, pressed for more. Worked out how to manipulate his own luck instead of relying on chance, concentrating on what he wants so his powers bend around him, gift evolving from simple suggestions into something else all together. When Gavin assures himself that all he needs in the world is to shoot his way out of a situation there is no way he will be unlucky enough have a gun run empty, when he needs to make a purchase he will never have the misfortune of running out of money, when he settles himself as the frontman of the FAHC none will be lucky enough to resist his charms. Now that he knows how to push, the limits of Gavin’s power are completely unknown – the least visibly impressive and yet the possibilities are as astounding as they are impossible. He needed a worthy crew, so he found one; they desired power, so they got it; it would be unlucky to die, so they don’t.

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. …We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of. This is a logical result of the way in which our democratic society is organized. Vast numbers of human beings must cooperate in this manner if they are to live together as a smoothly functioning society. …In almost every act of our daily lives, whether in the sphere of politics or business, in our social conduct or our ethical thinking, we are dominated by the relatively small number of persons…who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires which control the public mind.”  
~ Edward L . Bernays   

7 | You’ll Never Walk Alone



series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as death and substance abuse

Originally posted by mvssmedia

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Not a single hot blooded man had uttered a word to you since Jin’s death, not even Minho, Jin’s biological brother. You didn’t know how many times you’d cried yourself into hysteria, or how many times his final declaration of love flooded your brain. The manor house was cold and quiet, like the sunshine and laughter had been ripped away from a once beautiful playground. Jimin hadn’t spoken to you since your return that night, Taehyung had to carry you in his arms as he jogged back to the manor house through the trees, you couldn’t move your body a single inch after witnessing your beloved brother die. Jackson, Yugyeom, Bambam and Jaebum had kept their distance from you, you’d only seen Jaebum once when sneaking back inside after a night out with a girl on his arm. And then there was Minho; he couldn’t even look at you, he blamed you for Jin’s death and the thought alone was enough to send sparks of grief and even guilt through your cold body.

Today was the funeral.

Smoothing out the material of your black mid-thigh length dress you exhaled slowly, mentally building up the courage to go downstairs. As the outside world didn’t know the truth behind Jimin’s company, it meant that they were ignorant to the truth behind the car explosion too, in fact, nobody knew that the explosion was linked to Jimin at all. Taehyung had told the media that Jin died of an underlying heart condition nobody was aware of, and specified that his funeral was limited to invitation only. Everybody loved Jin, even those who didn’t really know him.

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So I know they said for this one they’re gonna buy a bunch of doors from Home Depot and just break them that way

but how fucking hilarious (and illegal) would it be if he actually broke into the god damn old house and broke all the doors 

like whoever is living there would just wake up (i imagine he’d be smart enough to do it at night. the man’s not a madman) to a man breaking their doors in.






It is very possible that I was reading too much into the floaty bubbles and it is not actual. 


I have also been staring at those suits for long minutes now. I feel like I should say something beyond “wow”, and yet that’s all I can think of. 

So. Like. 


anonymous asked:

Ok so when Mark's birthday passes, are you gonna start writing smut about him? Lots of writers are gonna start doing that and it just makes me so uncomfortable??

Ok, here’s the thing, for me at least.

Like a birthday is just a single day, like he goes from being contraband at 17 to 1 day later it’s suddenly totally acceptable to see him as fresh smut meat-
It makes me uncomfy too…. I’ll need a while before I really see him as an adult, it’s not just going to suddenly happen over night for me.
My estimate is a couple months tbh before I may feel able to write smut about him? him being in nct dream really hinders me

He’s cute, don’t get me wrong, but liek I don’t really see him in a sexual light.

ghost-chicky  asked:

Prom your dad is friken wILD

You literally dont understand how crazy my dad is ok.

⭐️when we went to india like years ago during a festival there is this event where you literally run across roofs and throw FLAMING FIREWORKS at each other ok. My fucking dad. MY DAD lit two entire boxes of fireworks and threw them. No one was hurt but oh my god
⭐️that same day he gave me a rocket launcher for a firework. It was literally the size of me and hella illegal but yet here it is in front of me. Im scared as shit and dont go near it. He fires it instead of me and THE FUCKING THING IS UPSIDE DOWN AND FIRES DIRECTLY INTO HIM. I was like “bye dad” but he was ok.
⭐️ my parents own a hotel 3 hours away from my college and i work there sometimes. We have this corridor that runs inbetween the entitr hotel for pipes and maintence. My dad walks back there as per routine and FINDS A MAN BACK THERE. Any normal person would freak the fuck out and call the cops right?? Nope not my dad, my dad fucking rUNS AFTER THIS 6'5 GUY OUT OF THE CORRIDOR AND OUT INTO THE ROAD WITH A 5 FOOT POLE HE FOUND. The only reason i know this is because i heard and saw the guy screaming outside the hotel running fast as hell.
⭐️ whenever my dad gets bored he comes up to me and i do random shit to him. Once at my cousins dinner reception after her wedding we were waiting for a table at a resturant. Hes bored so he comes up and he has a huge potbelly (from drinking like hes some anime protag) and i start patting his stomach like its a bongo or drum. I do that for a good fucking 20 min until my dad starts laughing and i see all my older cousins and relatives staring at me. HE FUCKING KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING

Last one

⭐️ my dad had a box of raisens from the farmers market next to him. I sat down next to him and started eatting them. My mom comes in and bloody screams like something crawled out her ass and screams “THERE ARE BUG EGGS AND HUGE DEAD SPIDERS IN THOSE RAISENS” i start screaming and run to the bathroom to try to throw up and my dad knew tje entire fuckinh time i was eatting them that there wete bugs in the raisens. The entire time. He watched me eat them. You wanna know what he said? “Good protein” i didnt eat raisens for a good year and a half after that.

Love you dad

LiS Before the Storm - Cast Predictions

So far we know that Chloe and Rachel will definitely be in the Prequel. We have also seen Frank and David, but who is else going to be in the new game?

As far as we know the game is set 3 years before the events in LiS, which means that Max lives in Seattle and won’t be in the game in person. However I firmly believe that she will get some kind of shout out. Maybe someone mentioning her name or we will see something that reminds us of her or is foreshadowing her story.

We already saw David and Chloe so Joyce won’t be far away and maybe we get to see some more memories of William then just the accident. Frank is (normally) never without Pompidou. However he wasn’t with him in the Mill so chances are that Frank hasn’t saved him from the illegal dog fighting ring yet (hurry up, man!).  Thanks to Chloe we know that Victoria is already known as the queen of b*tches in Arcadia Bay and where Victoria is, Courtney and Taylor are not far.

If you pause the game footage at 19:05 you can see a blond male person running into Chloe and with the letter in the Mill chances are high that this is Nathan. I really hope that he is there and that we may even get a glimpse of his sister Kristine.

In the trailer we see that Chloe is still attending Blackwell Academy. So we will have a dome sort of reunion with Principal Wells, Mrs. Grant and Samuel. Maybe we can also meet some other Blackwell staff like Samuels wife, Max’s (possible depressed) English teacher Mrs. Hoida or the school nurse An-Marie Barenchi. However as told in the SquareEnix live stream Jefferson won’t be back. Same goes for poor Kate. But beside some new student some old will return as well. So maybe we will see more of Dana, Juliet, Brooke, Daniel, Alyssa, Warren, Stella, Evan, Luke, Trevor, Zachary, Logan, Hayden and Sarah. At the beginning of the trailer we see a skateboard. Chances are that Chloe and Justin are friends in the game and that we get to go skating with him.

If we go downtown we will no doubt pay a visit to the Two Whales Diner and be able to talk to the Police Cops, the Truckers and other customers. Maybe even the Homeless Lady or the Fisher outside?

As of other minor character maybe we see another book by Dr. Bill, get to meet Nathans therapist Dr. Jacoby or watch the Weatherman again.

If you remember the red folders with the name of the dark room victims and took a look at the room plan in the dormitories in Max’s nightmare you were able to read one name on both plates: Kelly. She was one of Jefferson’s victims and also lived in the dormitories in room 217 when Rachel attended Blackwell. Maybe we will met her as her room is opposite of Rachel’s. Another interesting character is Megan. She was Chloe’s friend in the alternative timeline and her name can also be found on the folders. It would be cool if we would get to see more of her. The rest of the dark room victims could also be new students at Blackwell  (Alexis, Ashley, Beverly, Brittany, Carol-Ann, Deanna, Kelly, Lucy, Lula, Lynn, Suzie and Tyra).

In the Mill we already got to meet Skeevy Guy and his Blue Hat Friend and they don’t look like they would forget the spilled beer anytime soon. So we will probably see them again.

And don’t forget the Raven! I got a feeling that he will be the new Blue Bird


*** For the purpose of this story being more relaxed, I made it to where the CO leaves you alone. Realistically, someone is usually present to make sure the inmate isn’t trying to escape, or kill the visitor. Because that happens.***

“Just wait for the buzz and then pull the door.”

You nodded at the warden and waited for the buzzing sound, pulling open the door and walking into the hallway where he stood.

“Follow me.”

You walked casually behind him as he read off the standard rules that you already knew.

“No nail clippers, no hair pins, no shoelaces, no belts, no necklaces, no earrings, no body or facial jewelry, no hairsprays, no nail files, no sealed envelopes”

He kept spouting off the visitation rules but you weren’t really listening. You’d been through this many times before and you knew what you could and couldn’t bring. You weren’t here to drop anything off today. Today was an illegal, yet very simple visit.

A conjugal visit.

Juice has only been locked up about 6 months out of his 14 month sentence but you were already missing him like crazy. You were both young, agile and in love, and sex was constant in your relationship. Sex in the bedroom, sex in the shower, sex in the kitchen, sex in your car, sex in the garage over his workbench. You were used to having your man whenever and wherever you wanted and this new prison sentence was wearing you thin. You were at the limits of your sexual frustration and after an especially filthy round of phone sex with Juice, he’d asked if you would be game to come in for a conjugal. Something about a CO owing them a favor and allowing him to use the supply closet for 15 minutes. You didn’t catch the specifics, too excited and needy for your Old Man. It wasn’t a long time, but it was better than lonely nights with toys and you told him to give you a date and time.

Which was today.

You made it to the end of the hall and made a left, the warden cutting the act and pointing at one of the doors.

“Ortiz is in there. You got 15 minutes. That’s it. By 15 minutes, you better be out here looking presentable and I’ll escort you back out. He stays inside.”

You nodded and reached forward, grabbing the handle and twisting it as the CO crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall beside the door.

“When I knock, you come out.”

He let you walk into the room and closed the door behind you. As you turned around, you saw Juice leaning against a washing machine. He had a decent amount of facial hair and his hair was fully grown out and slicked back. He looked different, but the look o hunger in his eyes was familiar. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up and a grin quickly spread across his face.


He stood up straight and opened his arms up to you in an invitation and you happily accepted, tucking yourself into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Juicey.”

He grinned and squeezed you once more before weaving his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back so he could look at your face.

“We don’t have much time baby.”

You nodded and smiled, leaning up to press your lips to his. He turned the both of you around and pressed your back to the washer, his hand snaking down the front of your body and slipping into the front of your pants. His fingers rubbed against you as he kissed down along the side of your neck and across your throat. His lips kissed softly at your skin, his teeth grazing and nipping randomly along the way. Soft gasps and whimpers left your pouted lips as his fingers got you warmed up. His fingertips grazed over your lips and teased your clit, a moan falling from your mouth.

“Juice baby, fuck.”

You could feel him grin against your throat and you could only imagine the cocky look he wore. His words affirmed it for you regardless.

“I got you wet pretty quick huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Ortiz, I’ve been wet all morning. It’s been 6 months.”

He chuckled and pulled away slightly, his hands gripping the waistband of your pants and pulling them down your thighs.

“Well then, I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer.”

His hands settled on your bare hips and he spun you around, bending you forward and over the washer in front of you. With one hand pressed against your back, the other gripped his prison issued sweats and yanked them down his thighs, his cock springing out and tapping against the cheek of your ass. He wasted no time in grabbing himself and running the tip against you, his head brushing through your lips once, twice and then three times, spreading your wetness before he slipped inside of you. You couldn’t help the groan that left you, your body falling forward and your cheek resting against the cool metal of the washer. You knew you didn’t have much time for love making and the longer you were in here, the bigger the chance of something going wrong and getting caught, so you let your body go limp against the washer and Juice took the hint, gripping your hips in his hands and beginning to pound into you.

You whimpered at the slight burn that came from the stretch you hadn’t had in a while but with it also came the immense pleasure of being filled by the man you loved and you could already begin to feel that tightening in your abdomen. Juice was just thick enough that it didn’t hurt, but it took your breath away and you relished in the feeling of having your man inside of you again. Juice was also enamored by the feeling of you all warm and slick, wondering if you had always felt so heavenly or if he was just missing you too much. The washer shook slightly as Juice took you from behind, his hips thrusting against you. His rhythm was messy already, the feeling of you wrapped around him after so long overwhelming and all he wanted to do was make you come. Reaching forward, he slipped his hand between your legs once again, this time not bothering with the teasing and simply rubbing firm circles around your clit over and over, his lips whispering filth into your ear over the back of your shoulder. You moaned at the feeling and so did he, your walls starting to clench and pulse around him.

“There you go babygirl. Come for me. Let me feel you come around me. Be a good girl and come.”

His instructions sounded more like demands and between the power in his voice and the power in his hands as he held you down and fucked you, it didn’t take long for your breathing to get ragged and your legs to start shaking. Your muscles spasmed around him and he cursed under his breath as you came, all gasps and whimpers. You bit down harshly on your forearm to muffle the noises you made as you came, Juice hissing behind you as he came as well, forehead creased as he was burying himself as deep as he could. A sharp shiver ran through you as he licked a stripe up your spine followed by a kiss to the side of your neck, a rumbling growl in his throat as he started to come down and recover. You collapsed against the washer and he chuckled, running his hand lovingly down your back.

“You gotta get going baby.”

You answered with a whine and he pulled you to stand, pulling up your pants and panties, his hand brushing some hair back into place just as the knock sounded on the door.

“I love you babe. Thank you for showing up.”

“I love you too Juan. Let me know if they owe you guys anymore favors.”

“I will baby.”

You leaned forward and gave him one last slow and passionate kiss, your eyes lingering on each other as you walked away from him and grabbed the handle, opening the door and walking out of the utility room. The CO looked you over to make sure you looked put together and stopped at the teeth marks dug into your arm. He laughed and shook his head, motioning for you to follow him out.

“Cover that shit up.”

Captain’s Vigilante (4/?)

Word Count: 4400ish

Warnings: a lot words. Some violence and guns(obviously) and mentions of a bomb. If that may trigger you, I advise you greatly to read with caution or stop reading entirely. But if you don’t, feel free to read. Some wrong grammar and spelling mistakes are there too. It’s kinda confusing to read. The italics are sometimes there for either what they’re thinking of, something they’re remembering remember just separate it from the flashbacks. I made the their texts bold to avoid confusion. i dunno guys everything’s wack i just hope you enjoy reading. thanks again xx

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  

Summary: You are a genius vigilante, misunderstood, feared and on top of the Avengers watch list. They see you as a major threat and have to be stopped. They’ve no idea you only have the best of intention but just has no idea how to express it a better way. And you like the reputation they gave you. It’s what you’re used to so you play with it. After yet another visit to the Avengers tower and being caught and then being shot. Things take a turn for you both when Steve seemed to break those walls and get to know the real you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10


You help me with anything I want you to. Steve punched the bag in front of him.  

When I ask, you answer. He hit it again and it swung from the impact.

You don’t get to ask questions about my own agendas. So don’t even try. Another punch and the seam on the bag opened a bit.

Whatever happens, don’t let me be caught. I don’t care if you have to lie or if you have to deceive your teammates. Compromise our little arrangement and our deal is off.

Betray me. And there’ll be consequences. A particular hard punch made the bag swung to almost a ninety degree angle.

In exchange, I’ll give you my services about everything I know about your missions. Just send me your whole file and I’ll send it back better. That’s my bargain, captain.

Isn’t that a little unfair on my part?

Of course it is. Do we have a deal? The bag swung bag, ready to hit whatever is in its way.

Deal. Steve readied himself, bracing for it.

Congrats, captain. You just made a deal with the devil. He caught the bag with his hands, not even moving a bit from the impact. He glared at the bag as he breathed heavily. He remembered their deal as if it was only yesterday. How he agreed to it with little thought in such little time was beyond him. And after a night’s rest, he realized what he did and came here to beat the frustrations out of him through something healthy like destroying yet another punching bag and enduring one of Tony’s talks about how these things doesn’t fall out of the sky.

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anonymous asked:

Stop blindly defending top you're embarrassing yourself. Do I agree with sk's law that weed is illegal yet tobacco isnt? No I dont. I agree this case will bring the question of weed's illegal status to surface bc people will finally start debating on it m. But top (or yg) is clearly meddling with law here with top not being imprisoned like the girl and he lied about not smoking weed at the beginning, also with the recent police's clarification. His blatant lies and evasion from law is disgusting

You’re embarrassing yourself because you know nothing about the SK law, clearly. The girls is in more trouble because it’s not her first offense. Ofc he’s facing jail charges but they haven’t had a ruling yet, seeing as this happened LAST Thursday KST. And please point out to me where I’m “~~~~blindly~~~~” defending him?????? Where did I say oh, oppa didn’t mean it!!!! No, I said it’s a fucking outdated law and by that I mean the severity. 

And honestly, he lied??? Were you there? Did you take his statement? All you know is the same as I do which is the conflicting media reports. His evasion? you mean his fun trip to the hospital where he is still unconscious. 

Your holier-than-thou ignorant unemphatic ass is disgusting and I really hope you get off my blog right now and go apologize to your mom for being like this.  

Blacks often get labeled as drug dealers since they make up majority of the prison population. People often tell blacks that they’d stop getting incarcerated if they’d stop selling drugs. Research shows that more whites sell illegal drugs than blacks, yet, blacks are arrested more often. That’s something many blacks should bring up.

Another thing to remember is that blacks aren’t the real drug dealers. Illegal drugs arrived in the black communities through President Reagan and the CIA to fund the war in Nicaragua. It was also to end activity by the Black Panther Party. How ridiculous is a president selling a dangerous drug to his country to battle another country? When people say blacks are true drug dealers, remind them of Reagan and the CIA. Think of the amount of drugs it takes to fund a war.