military grade weapons

  • Do not forget Michael Brown
  • Do not forget how the media dehumanized him and tried to justify his murder
  • Do not forget how peaceful protests were painted as savage riots
  • Do not forget police armed with military grade weapons terrorized and arrested black civilians
  • Do not forget Darren Wilson being awarded over $200,000 in fundraiser donations for murdering an unarmed black child
  • Do not forget that this system was not built to defend us, but to control us
  • Do not forget Ferguson 
KADO: The Right Answer

Okay y’all, I’ve got a new anime recommendation that I can’t stress seriously enough. It comes with mild yet flashy alien invasion, action-packed international negotiations, sci-fi energy sources, a super exhausted flight attendant crew in a hostage situation, and your friendly neighborhood media frenzy! Do you like Steins;Gate? Do you like the weird, inexplicable dating sim vibes? Have you ever wanted to watch the Japanese government shed tears of blood for days on end in a boardroom environment? Can I interest you in an adorable theoretical physicist equipped with an etch-a-sketch

May I now introduce you to:

1. Your new beautiful alien overlord, now with 100% less emoting and an unwavering dedication to linguistic accuracy, who may or may not also be future-Jesus:

With zero joking, I need to inform you that that his name is Yaha-kui zaShunina. Folks, you don’t get higher quality alien visitors than this.

2. A protagonist that a) doesn’t suck and a) possesses the holy trinity of dry wit, a moral compass, and superior communication skills: 

3. KADO the cube*, who, if this was a dating sim, would definitely be the love interest you wanted to date the most:

(*that’s it, it’s just a cube. It’s 2km to each side, it doesn’t get any sexier)

(**those specks in the second pic are batshit crazy media helicopters, see #9 below)

4. The swooning Junior Colleague, if alien overlords aren’t your thing:

5. A flight crew that just doesn’t quit, despite being told they have to work overtime in a multi-dimensional hostage situation for the next 29 fucking days

6. The afore-mentioned etch-a-sketch physicist, who routinely frightens the military officers so bad they call for backup to disagree with her

6. This cutie negotiator, who I’m pretty sure is actually super fucking ambitious beneath that wide-eyed veneer

7. This other cutie that does shit with military-grade weapons, who I hardcore ship with the crazy physicist 

8. High-powered negotiations, which was a genre I never knew I needed until now and includes intense debates about the problems of inaccurate language localizations and translation fuck-ups in high-stress situations

9. And finally, the military and the media circus, now with proper representation and cool behind-the-scenes depictions of what security procedures really look like during crisis situations


One last note: KADO uses a consistent amount of CGI. If you have been traumatized by CGI in the past (see: the dark side of new sailor moon) I urge you to watch the first 2-3 episodes of KADO before writing it off. Why? Because:

 1) the plot and story are so cool I kept watching even after being thrown off initially, and 

2) it was actually shockingly easy to get used to the difference in animation 

This was because there’s a hell of a lot of geometric detailing in this anime, and the CGI, believe it or not, does a great job in animating it. Facial expressions and body language are also way more detailed because they’re able to alter pre-existing models. This also means the animation is consistently high-quality.

So try it out! The first three episodes (plus prequel, which I highly recommend) are on Crunchyroll with minimal ads. Don’t skip it, ‘cause it looks like it’s gonna continue to be insanely good!

withinofdreams  asked:

Do you have any theories of why Coach had drinking problems and what or who helped him with it?

Not really. Nothing solid at least. However I do find it peculiar that most of the non-supernatural male adults seem to have abused alcohol in the past. Sheriff Stilinski, Agent McCall, Coach Finstock and Adrian Harris. I hesitate to label them all alcoholics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to give all of them that diagnosis. 

But it’s a pattern, and we know how much Jeff likes his patterns after all. And if one’s an incident, two’s a coincident and three’s a pattern, then what’s four? 

Just for kicks let’s run through them. I do like to ramble on about these kinds of things :)

Sheriff Stilinski

I don’t think sheriff Stilinski qualifies as an alcoholic. But he clearly has gone through a period in his life when he drank more than he should. Probably it’s in relation to Claudia’s illness and death. 

We have the moment in 2x09 Party Guessed where Stiles, high on Lydia’s wolfsbane punch hallucinates his dad crashing the party, bottle of whiskey in hand and accusations raining over him. 

Sheriff: Why am I wearing black? What are you, an idiot? I just came from a funeral. You know, people wear black at funerals. 
Kid: Dude, chill. It was just 
Sheriff: Get out of my face. It’s you. It’s all you. You know, every day I saw her lying that hospital slowly dying - I thought, “how the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little b*st*rd who keeps ruining my life?” It’s all you. It’s you, Stiles. You killed your mother. You hear me? You killed her. And now you’re killing me.

The wolfsbane gave them all visions of things that scared them, that they feared. I think this particular hallucination came to stiles not because it really happened, but because this is what he fears his dad believes. That his dad blames him somehow for his mom’s death. That he’s a handful that he doesn’t know what to do about. 

Remember the sheriff had just lost his job because of Stiles and his shenanigans, so he already feels rotten about it. And the time after his mom’s death was probably traumatizing in itself, and if the sheriff sought comfort in some alcohol, he might just had said some stuff that he didn’t really mean. Or perhaps he meant it, but didn’t mean for Stiles to hear. I’m a mom -  sometimes when my kids misbehave i think awful thoughts and mean it in the moment, but I keep it inside. 

Stiles fears abandonment more than anything. He’s terrified of loosing his dad. Both literally and figuratively. This is his worst fear. This is his Boggart. 

Back to the point. If the Sheriff really was an alcoholic I don’t think for a second Stiles would get him deliberately drunk. And another point to think about in relation to the hallucination - in it the sheriff is portrayed as an angry drunk. In 1x10 we see that he’s actually a calm and morose drunk. he gets sentimental and opens up about feelings they normally don’t talk about - particularly Claudia. 

In 3x11 we get this exchange between Agent McCall and Stiles

Agent Mccall: Where’s your dad, and why’s no one been able to contact him? 
Stiles: I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in hours. 
Agent Mccall: Is he drinking again? 
[Sighs] Stiles: What do you mean, again? He never had to stop. 
Agent Mccall: But he did have to slow down. Is he drinking like he used to? 
Stiles: All right, how about this? Next time I see him, I’ll give him a field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with “F,” end with “U.”

Another hint towards a past with too much drinking but not actual alcoholism. Stiles’ “he never had to stop” indicates this. 

In conclusion - Sheriff Stilinski’s unhealthy drinking in the past is most likely connected to Claudia’s death and he pulled himself out of it after a while. 

I can see that this will be a long one. Hit the read more for more about drinking problems. patterns, what they might have in common and it all ends up in lots of military conspiracy theories. You’ve been warned… 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Yuri on ice truth or dare is my new favorite thing. Do with that what you will.

bragging rights

thx to @forovnix for some of the ideas in this hot mess of a fic

Length: 2.3k; Rating: teen+;

Summary: There’s a party in Phichit’s hotel room after a Grand Prix Final event, and he knows exactly how to keep everyone entertained.

Read more of my fics here!

It’s Phichit’s idea.


“Okay,” Phichit says as he tears apart a piece of paper, distributing the fragments among everyone. He had arranged all of the skaters in a neat circle a few minutes ago, including Yurio, who had scowled. Phichit’s hotel room is small, but it fits them all with ease. “Everybody write down one truth and one dare.”

“You only gave us each one piece of paper,” Leo points out. “You want us to write them both down on the same piece?”

Phichit blinks slowly, his tipsy mind trying to process the words. “No. Tear your paper in half.”

Keep reading

Bonnie & Clyde - pt 14

Originally posted by sugaglos

“Y/N. Keep your eyes open.” He said through ragged breaths.

He was still running, the buildings getting closer together and in the opposite direction that you should be going. He was headed back. Surely he wasn’t going all the way back uptown…

The bouncing movement made you feel nauseous and you pressed your nose into his neck to inhale his scent, hoping it would take your mind off the horrible feeling creeping up your throat.

Fortunately your eyes drooped closed and you knocked out instantly against his protests.


Keep reading

The only modern AU I’ve seen so far that I liked was vegan yoga instructor Chirrut and his omnivore natural eating mechanic husband and so I’ve been thinking on that so consider if you will:

  • Chirrut and Baze used to be professional martial artists (though Baze was running hits for the mob at the same time) and met while training. Baze retired (from both jobs) to become Chirrut’s trainer.  The first time Baze asked Chirrut out was when after coded flirting in the locker room he absolutely wiped the floor with him on the mat.  
  • Chirrut takes Taoism very seriously, while Baze was raised Buddhist and doesn’t really care. 
  • Chirrut’s career ended when he was blinded during one of the many protests around Tienanmen Square in the late 80s/early 90s.  
  • Chirrut now teaches yoga to white middle class moms while Baze runs a small motor shop next door.  Chirrut sometimes calls out across the yoga studio in canto and Baze comments back in mandarin from the adjacent kitchen where he’s making tea and the white middle class moms think they’re cute because they’re such an old married couple in love but half of the time it’s a joke about one of them. They live upstairs and if you wear shoes in their home Chirrut will never let you live down your mistake.  
  • They got married as soon as it was legal to do so.  There was no real proposal, it was a mutual decision that made sense.
  • There’s a rumor that Baze knows how to get machine guns and military grade weapons illegally from China but if anyone comes knocking to find out they get shown the door and sometimes their own asses. But he does know, and has a mini arsenal of weapons hidden in various places in their zen hippie apartment. Chirrut has knives hidden in a few places.  They’ve made some enemies in their 50 years of being unapologetically political. 
  • One day Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor are running from government hired muscle or cops or whatever and run to hide in Chirrut’s yoga studio.  The government thugs tell this blind peaceful looking yoga gay to hand the kids over or else and not to push them they’re not against hitting a blind guy, and get their asses handed to them.  One of them almost gets the jump on him and is knocked out by a wrench to the back of the head by Baze who is like wtf is going on in here.  Jyn and Cassian are like THE FUCK DID I JUST WATCH THAT WAS AMAZING
  • They teach Jyn and Cassian hand to hand martial arts combat skills and Jyn is way better at it than Cassian. 

You knew that these moments would most likely be your last, you were surrounded by Hydra agents who were all packing military-grade weapons while your gun had run out of bullets a long time ago and there wasn’t anything around you that you could use to Mcguiver your way out of the situation.

You weren’t upset; you learned a long time ago that being a SHIELD agent meant that you would most likely die in the field and the fact that you were an elite agent didn’t change that.

You were ready to charge out of cover and take down as many of them as you could before you died, but right before you were about to go through with it a voice rang out.

“(y/n) come out, they’re not going to shoot you.” You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the sound of the voice.

“That’s not very reassuring coming from you traitor.” You shouted back at Ward, you only half meant those words, but you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you when you found out he was Hydra.

Ward had been like your big brother, he’d been your mentor and teacher, and even though he’d hurt you, you still loved him because he was family.

“(y/n) I didn’t turn my back on you, I turned my back on SHIELD.” You heard him whisper some things to his men and then you heard a bunch of footsteps retreating.

“(y/n), trust me.” Ward said coming around the corner to face you. You point your gun straight at his forehead; it was a total bluff, you had no ammo but you were hoping he didn’t know that.

“If you really wanted to kill me you would’ve pulled the trigger already, besides the gun’s out of bullets. Here, if you really want to kill me use this.” Ward said handing you his gun after showing you it was fully loaded.

“Do you have a death wish I don’t know about?” You asked taking the gun from him, you knew he wasn’t bluffing, the gun wasn’t one of the ones that required your palm print to use, he really trusted you with his life.

“No, but you’re more family than my actual family is, and if you love me as much as I love you you’re not going to pull the trigger.” He said, you always knew when Ward was lying and right now he wasn’t, this wasn’t some ploy to take you down, it wasn’t a trick the sincerity in his eyes told you that much.

You sighed and lowered the gun, you couldn’t do it, he was your big brother, and even though he’d hurt you, you just couldn’t bring yourself to kill him.

“So what are you gonna brainwash me into being a Hydra agent or something?” You asked.

“I’d never do that to you, I’d never take away your free will. I’ll take you back to SHIELD, or at least as close as I can get before someone tries to take a shot at me.” Ward said in an attempt to make a joke.

“Come on, I wanna show you my new car.” Ward said taking your hand and leading out around the Hydra base. Yes, Ward was a traitor in SHIELD’s eyes, but to you he was still family, and you don’t turn your back on family.

Requested by @angelnewt 

So I’m not usually into making extensive headcanons, but I’ve had this idea in my head for a while. You know how it’s really confusing as to why Atom, a robot built to replace a human child, is packed with tons if military-grade weapons? In the manga AU of Atom’s birth, Tezuka explains this with the situation of Tenma running out of money to create his robot, and the military swooping in and picking up the tab on the condition that the doctor agrees to install weapons up to their specifications. Their goal is to be able to claim partial ownership of Atom later and use him for war. Strangely, Tezuka never explores this possibility.

But so… What about the other Astro Boy series? Why did Atom have weapons in the “canon” manga continuity? The 80’s series? The 2003 series? Pluto? Well, I’ve come up with a hypothesis: Tenma didn’t just build Atom to be Tobio. He built Atom not to die. To be an indestructible marvel of a creation that would never be taken from him again. Though Atom possesses the visage of an innocent child, he holds the power of a one-man army. With his tactically advanced body and mind, he can raze entire prefectures in a matter of hours. 2003 Tenma wasn’t completely off his rocker when he insisted that Atom take up the mantle of robot king. Our boy could rule the world if he wanted to (he did, actually, in the last episode of the ‘63 anime).

Tenma built his second son to be as human and as superhuman as necessary.

Haha I just stole this from the Mega Man fandom, but it works as well for Atom as it does for X. They’re almost the same character, except Atom doesn’t have a suicidal waifu and a bunch of dead brothers and children.

anonymous asked:

something I've learned from this blog is that almost nothing makes a good weapon if it wasn't designed to be a weapon. is there /anything/ at all that you could find in, say, a hardware store, that you would consider an acceptable weapon in a pinch?

Of the top of my head? Crowbars, claw hammers, sledgehammers, hatchets or axes, box cutters (though not as much with utility knives), flamethrowers, nail guns, probably some variety powered saw I’m not thinking of (though, not chainsaws), flashlights. Though, really, a decent sized wrench is better than nothing.

Crowbars or pry bars are a simple length of solid steel. Usually either round, or flat (the round ones make better weapons because of ergonomics), these are hooked on one end, and both tips flatten to a semi-sharp blade. You can’t whittle with one, but you can certainly use it to take an opponent apart.

Hammers and axes are actually weapons. I used to own an 8lb sledge with a “misuse can result in serous injury or death,” warning label. Because what we really need to do is inform those people who haven’t realized you can use a sledgehammer to kill people, that it’s an option.

Claw hammers are slightly shorter than traditional warhammers, but it’s still the same basic design, just intended for civilian use. As a weapon, it even retains the reverse beak, which will allow the wielder to hook the hammer into their foe.

Hatchets and axes are in roughly the same situation. They’re not identical to real weapons, but they’re close enough that it doesn’t matter.

Box cutters are folding knives with a 3″ to 4″ blade. They’re not an impressive weapon, and some cheap ones might come apart in combat, but it’s a knife, and can get the job done.

Incidentally, longer knives intended for things like clearing brush may be an option (this includes the machete). They’re not intended for use as weapons, but they’re still better than nothing.

Worst case, larger screwdrivers can function as an improvised stiletto. It’s not elegant, it’s not a weapon, but you can probably put that in some poor guy’s neck.

So, if you’ve never spent a lot of time in rural areas, the inclusion of a flamethrower might seem a bit deranged. We’re not talking about military grade combat weapons, these are propane powered torches designed for clearing away dead brush and starting controlled burns. In most states (and I think in Canada) you can purchase small propane powered flamethrowers. You’re not going to want to get into firefights with people using one of these, but, again, if you have no other options.

A similar, slightly more horrifying option, is the thermal lance. This is actually welding equipment, so you’re not going to see this in most hardware stores, but it does exist. The thermal lance is a plasma torch, these are used to cut through reinforced metal. While I’m not sure exactly what this would do to a human being, I’m quite certain the results would be very unpleasant.

Nail guns, at least at short range, might be an option. I’ve honestly never really looked into how viable these are as weapons. You honestly might need tool to skin contact for it to work.

Flare guns are another option. Most commercial flare guns fire a 12gauge shell. The flares themselves are very low power, but will burn on contact. The gun itself can’t use normal 12gauge shells, it will explode. Flare shells can be loaded into most (or all) 12gauge shotguns, however, semi-automatic shotguns will not cycle between shots because there’s insufficient force. Still, getting hit with one of these will probably kill you.

The problem with chainsaws is that the viscera will get pulled into the motor and jam the system. This is probably true of most powered saws, though I’ve never really looked into it. That said, if your character just needs to kill a single foe, a powered saw should get the job done.

It might have sounded like a joke, but a loaded flashlight can be a pretty formidable choice. Particularly something like a D-Cell Maglite. These are practically a weighted baton in the right hands, and can do a lot of damage on impact.

The thing that’s probably messing with you a bit is, nothing on the above list (with the possible exception of the hammers and axes) makes a particularly good weapon. (Also, if you’re actually planning to write a scene in a hardware store, some of the above items won’t be in a functional state on the floor. Sadly flamethrowers, thermal lances, and a few others come, “some assembly required.”)

With enough creativity you can probably kill someone with most of the objects in your environment. Improvised weapons are about finding what you have immediate access to, and deciding which is the best option from that list. It’s not about getting “a good weapon,” just finding something you can kludge into one.

A character who takes a flat head screwdriver around as their weapon of choice is going to come across as slightly goofy. A character who, while struggling to fight off an attacker, grabs a nearby screwdriver and drives it through their foe’s neck, won’t. That’s the difference.

A lot of the time, we’ll get a question like, “I want my character’s weapon of choice to be a machete,” at which point I go into the entire discussion of how, “it’s a tool,” and “it’s not designed for combat.” It’s not that you can’t kill someone with one, but it shouldn’t be your characters first choice when dealing with a situation. It’s not a good weapon, but sometimes it’s the only option your character has.


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  • city planning: lets give the police a fuckton of money to get fancy ridiculous cars ..... and military grade weapons.
  • city planning: and forget we have a school system at all
  • city planning: after all we make so much money off of sending kids to jail who are failing out of our failing schools. 8)
I’ll Save You: Chapter 2 (Joker Fan Fiction)

Sorry for making you all wait so long for this. I’m not the best series writer. It takes me hours to formulate a part two. Also I’ve been crammed with studying! But I thank you all for your patience and support. I hope you enjoy this and as always give me your feedback because I truly appreciate it. 

P.S. I might edit this again soon for errors because I was rushing to put this out by tonight. *I really hope this is good I can’t emphasise enough how much I suck at series writing!* 

Pairing: Joker X Reader

Warnings: Smut/ Drug Use/ Abusive Spouse/ Threats/ Knife Play/Daddy Kink


Originally posted by lovinthelustxx

You laid in your king size bed alone as you did most nights. The sheets were pulled up to your nose and you inhaled the lingering smell of J’s cologne. Outside it was drizzling and each drop knocked on your window in a rhythmic beat. You hadn’t been able to sleep well for weeks but today you were a little more at ease because of the note Joker left to keep you company. You slid it into your bra for safe keeping after reading it once more.

Observing the raindrops slide down the glass made you drift back to the first night you met The Clown Prince of Crime himself. After he ran with you through the downpour of the night eventually you ended up at a warehouse near the ports.

“Just one moment my dear and we will escape the rain”, J mumbled as he fiddled with the keys that opened the big locks keeping his property safe. With a loud screech, the gate to his world was opened. He pushed you inside with a firm hand. Dim lights illuminate the space just enough so you could marvel at the loot it stored. To the left side of the building, there were expensive cars, a tank, and high-grade military weapons lining the walls. To the right, there were tall shelves organized with different drugs and next to that there was the biggest stack of cash you’d ever seen. Your jaw dropped at the pyramid of hundred dollar bills.

“I’m glad you’re impressed Y/N. Please, take a seat”, he said motioning you to the red velvet couch in the middle of the wear house. The sofa was placed on an antique looking rug and there was a coffee table to set your drinks on. You removed you wet jacket as he dragged over a metal barrel full of wood and started a fire for the two of you. The heat rushed around you as J poured lighter fluid onto the flames igniting them even more. You brought your legs near your chest and popped off the cap of a beer, chugging it, then proceeding to grab another. You thought to yourself “This must be what it feels like for my husband every night. Just ignoring every problem and drinking until he’s numb.” 

Observing you J realized how desperately you wanted to escape. He had figured even though your life wasn’t ideal you still enjoyed yourself every now and then but seeing you in this state he knew he was wrong. You were so zoned out in the warmth of the fire and the alcohol in your system, that you didn’t even notice him leave your side. He came back with a freshly rolled blunt and lit it in front of you. 

The sweet smell of quality marijuana hit you instantly. Your eyes widened then fluttered to a close. You hadn’t smoked since your college days but oh how you missed the feeling of being lifted. 

“Here! You need it more than me”, J motioned as he handed you the blunt. You took it from him eagerly ready to relax. Like a pro you inhaled and thick smoke entered your lungs. You let it sit in your chest for a second before releasing the cloud along with your worries. 

“Man this is some good ass weed”, you said taking another hit. Every muscle in your body let loose and you slumped over into the Joker’s lap involuntarily.

“I’m glad you like it…”, J chuckled as he stroked your damp hair while downing the last drop of his beer. He delighted in finally having you by his side. For years he had observed you as a mere sexy accessory to your husband but now here you were at his whim. It was all so surreal for him as well. Even though he was used to having his way he never had someone so willing to follow him just out of pure curiosity. Much less anyone looking to him as a means of escape. 

Why aren’t you scared of me Princess? Most women, HELL most men, tremble in my presence… Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust strangers? For all you know I brought you here to kill you!”, J menacingly uttered. He hated to be caught in a vulnerable state so his attitude was always changing in order for him to have the upper hand. He liked you very much but he didn’t know how to switch off the crazy. Before you could muster up a response he had a cold knife to your neck. The pressure was building between the metal and your thin flesh.

“ANSWER ME! Why aren’t you scared?”, he yelled demanding an answer. 

“BECAUSE!!! I’m brought near death every day! Whether it be by a blow to the head or my own thoughts of taking my life. What is there to be scared of? You’d be doing me a favor by ending me right here and now!“ 

How badly he wished you’d be quivering in horror beneath him but instead, you were fearless against death and pain, his only hold against most people. You’d been so mentally and physically abused at this point that you were as cold-hearted and detached from the real world as he was. He’d met his perfect match but she was high and rambling. 

“You see all these bruises!?”, you muttered as you put the half finished blunt on the ashtray ignoring the weight of your last comment. 

“This one here on my shoulder?” Happened last week when he threw me against the wall and I hit the kitchen counter! And this one here on my stomach, I got when he kicked me after I fell! God, I look so fucking ugly!“ 

You were so gone you didn’t even notice you were teasing him. You had pulled your shirt up just enough so he could see your cleavage ready to leap out. He released a deep growl and closed his eyes as he battled within himself for what would be his next decision. Still keeping a tight grip on his knife he brought it against your cheek and planted a vigorous kiss on your lips. He took control of your mouth for a couple of seconds before taking the sharp object and slitting your shirt in half. 

"Mmmmm look at these beautiful mounds!” He said as he roughly caressed your tits. He picked you up from his lap and laid you across the couch before he hovered about you. 

“You’re so stunning with or without the bruises baby. They would be such a turn on for me if I had left them printed on your body instead”, he said as he kissed your neck down to your chest, making you release a small moan . Before going any further he came up and put his face close to yours. The room was spinning but you tried hard to meet his intense gaze. 

“I want you to be MINE! I hate the thought of that man laying his hands on you… I promise! Listen carefully because I won’t repeat myself… I promise to give you every adventure, pleasure, and luxury that life has to offer but better yet, I promise to kill that mother fucking son of a bitch and make him pay for the suffering he’s caused you! But you must give me time…" 

The bass in his voice made you tremble you could only nod in agreement. So many thoughts ran through your mind all at once. He was a murderer, a gangster, a psychopath but yet here you were letting him touch you and seduce you. You recalled reading about his ex-lover Harley and the havoc they raised in Gotham but just now realized you were envious of their madness this whole time. Before you could formulate a response J was pulling off your pants and diving between your legs. He kissed your lower lips so tenderly as if he’d yearned for you long before. You ran your fingers through his green locks, threw your head back, and closed your eyes. 

"You like this baby girl?”

“Yes Daddyyy, I love itttt.. Pleaseeee give me more”, you moaned.

“That’s how I like it! I see you learn fast”, he said with a wink before he shoved two fingers inside of you. He curled them in a ‘come-hither’ motion which took you over the edge. You were so turned on you couldn’t stop yourself from coming all over him. It had been months since you last had sex and your body was so needy. You still wanted more even though your muscles were tired and weak. You lifted yourself to get on top of him but he stopped you.

Grabbing your neck he said, “A good lover always leaves something for the second date.” He licked his lips and handed you your pants. "I’d love to entertain you all night but I’m afraid I should take you home before the sun begins to rise. Get dressed!“, he commanded. 

You slipped on your pants along with your jacket over your bare chest. It was still a little moist but your shirt was torn so it was your only choice. You saw J getting into a purple Lamborghini so you followed. 

"Wow! I’ve always wanted to ride in one of these! Can we go fast?”, you asked overly excited. The Joker acknowledged your request and drove you around the empty streets for one last thrill before dropping you off. It all felt like a fantasy or one big dream. You’d had the best night of your life with one of the world’s most feared men. 

The doors to your building were a mere 10 feet away but you didn’t want to get a step closer. “Please let me stay with you! I don’t want to go back!”, you pleaded with a lump in your throat. 

“I want you to be by my side but now isn’t the time”, he paused for a moment before continuing. The expression on his face showed he was consumed in developing a course of action . He didn’t want to send you to the bad man upstairs but he had to. After collecting his thoughts he said, “Promise me that you’ll count every hit he gives you because soon I’ll torture him for each one. This is a game we must play strategically but be assured I’ll save you!” He lightly kissed your lips before you gathered the courage to go back.

A knock on your window snapped you out of your flashback. J was on the fire escape holding a new phone in his hand. You chuckled as you let him inside your room. 

“Sorry about your last phone princess!“ 

"Sorry isn’t enough Mistah J…” you smirked and walked backed to bed as you snatched the phone from his grip.

He jumped into the sheet with you and covered you both beneath them. 

“Well I can make it up to you in many, many other ways darling…But you’ll have to be very quiet as to not wake up our friend in the living room!” 

“Or I could just be really loud and scream ‘Oh Jokerrrrr! Yes! GIVE ME MORE’ as I do at your place”, you whispered in a sarcastic tone.

“Ha. Very funny! Now shut that pretty mouth up!” he said before gagging you with his belt. “Let me have my way with you because tomorrow is a big day for us and we will be busy!”

You didn’t know what he meant at first since you were so concentrated on having him inside you but then it hit! Tomorrow was the 20th! Your husband was going out of town for a case that would last at least a week. Now Joker and you finally had the chance to plan your revenge together! This would be the first time you’d ever gotten to be with him for more than a few hours and you were so excited for what was to come. 

Finally the chapter of your life containing all this misery was nearing a close and you couldn’t be more grateful. You indulged in the pleasure he brought you all night knowing that soon this would all be over. 


@partysexmcguiness @princessjackieworld @kirsty-lou666 @elliot-ren-cheshire @ronja-reckless @surahbow @lylabell2013 @sexyprincesskiki @sheiksue-origins @ridingjokersharley @angelsdeadlyseduction @metalteeth-goldchain @flyingtigerdowntoearth


I’m only two episodes into Luke Cage but I already want to write essays about what this show is doing with questions of reclaiming power v recycling oppression on almost every facet of the show. One of the first things that shocked me about the first episodes was the repeated use of the n-word. Now, thankfully (and perhaps quite obviously), this word is being spoken exclusively by black characters and it’s extremely important to notice and elevate that the professionals who are writing these lines are people of color as well- an anomaly not only for Marvel but for so much of TV & film, the majority of the writers for Luke Cage are African-American. God, does that make difference. 

But getting a little closer to my point- even though I’m definitely not going to do my argument any justice in a quick little post- but let’s consider what’s happening with the use of the n-word. Finally, we’re not having some bullshit conversation about who get’s to use the word (i.e. “i’m white but can’t I use the n-word if-”). Instead, we’re having contending, even explicit arguments between black characters about what this word means and what its proliferation produces: Luke doesn’t reclaim the word, citing its historic roots in slavery, oppression, and degradation. But Stokes does and there’s something really significant about how he uses that word- now, if Luke Cage was aiming for a flat and pedantic argument, the equation would be simple: Luke rejects the N-word and he’s a good guy! Stokes embraces the N-word and he’s a villain! So if you’re a good person, you don’t use the N-word! But, the show isn’t doing that. Hallelujah for complexity. Consider what Stokes is doing when he tells Mariah: “It’s easy to underestimate a n—-. They never see you coming.” Stokes is a horrific man, but it can’t be said that his function as antagonist isn’t related to white power structures- he knows what larger, White American power structures expect of him so he turns those expectations on their heads in the most wicked ways: citing the Constitution in relation to his trafficking of military grade weapons, establishing his base in the heart of Harlem, taking advantage of political influence, a sphere that is meant to appear completely detached from and fixed against gangs, violence, crime and, yes, even black folk. So, relate all of that to his use of the N-word. He isn’t wrong about those in power underestimating the men they deem subhuman. He’s aware of how the world is rigged against him and he’s weaponizing himself with that, he’s taking advantage of that. 

Luke, Mariah, Misty, even minor characters like Dante and Pops all represent different walks of life that are absolutely informed by black oppression and racism. Do you work within the power structure that aims to destroy you, hoping to reform from the inside out? (Misty Knight) Do you work outside and against these power structures, weaponizing your identity and your marginalization to match violence for violence? (Stokes, Mariah) Do you grapple with both contending choices, instead? (Luke and, to a degree, Mariah). It all boils down to a question that has no easy answer- how do you achieve empowerment in a world that has aimed its canons against you? how much can you reclaim before you recycle and reinstate the trauma, the violence, the histories? how far can you detach yourself before you’re becoming complacent or blind or living in denial of your history and potential?

I swear I’m going to stop rambling, but the question of whether or not you can reclaim the instruments that are used to oppress you doesn’t stop at linguistics. It’s in Luke’s use of a hoodie, a solemn reminder of Trayvon Martin, and it’s in Stoke’s use of three-piece suits. It’s in Mariah’s choice to pursue political power, while Stokes pursues criminal power and Pops establishes interpersonal, communal power. It’s an argument embedded in the very conflict of the first episodes, embedded in Luke Cage’s identity as Power Man- what does a bulletproof black man do in a world that demonizes, oppresses, attacks and makes a spectacle of black masculinity, black strength, black bodies? This argument is embedded in the lighting of the show, the director’s choices, the setting, the repeated mention of African American literature, the music (god, the unapologetic embrace of black rap and hip hop! that portrait of Biggie in Stoke’s office! god there is so much to be said about that). This show is so freakin’ important because I don’t know of any other form of media that has come even remotely close to touching all the nuances of this argument. If you’re not doing so already, go watch this show. 

Going on a mission with Bucky Barnes

Originally posted by natpekis

Request: //could you write a one shot about going on a mission with Bucky Barnes? it’s super dangerous and hydra agents show up and the reader wants to save everyone but Bucky just wants to make sure the readers safe because they’re super close//

Warning: violence, mentions of blood, mild cussing

“Alright you two.” Steve says, stopping the truck, “Remember, meet the agent at Forever 21, in and out twenty minutes tops. I’ll be in your ear the whole time.”

He taps the monitor that’s in your ear, lifting his microphone to test it out.

“And I’ve got eyes on every inch of that store.” he adds assuringly.

“We got it Steve!” Bucky smiles, rolling his eyes at his overprotective and over prepared friend, “I’ll watch out for y/n okay?”

At this your ears perk up and you scoff.

“I don’t need your protection Barnes. This is my assignment, you’re just here for backup.” you say very matter of factly as you slide a baseball cap on, pulling it low over your eyes, making sure the microscopic camera attached works.

You slide a gun on either side of your belt, a small knife in both boot, a burner phone in your back pocket, and slip a sweatshirt on with a prop wallet in the pocket. Tony said to meet some undercover S.H.I.E.L.D agent at Forever 21, say the code phrase that only you know, and he or she will give you a package in a yellow store bag. You don’t even know what’s in it.

“If anything, I’ll be the one saving your ass.” is all you before sliding the car door open and hopping out the front, Bucky right on your heels.

He slips his hand into yours and hugs against your side.

“So what pet name should I use this time. Sweetheart, honey, pumpkin pie, apple pie, rhubarb pie…” Bucky asks, letting his voice trail off as you stifle a laugh.

Keep reading

“Let’s go find Bucky, Sam. How hard could it be, Sam?”

Also known as: The Great Winter Soldier Expedition of 2014-2015 That Marvel Won’t Talk About, So I Decided To Instead.

-A week before they leave, Steve calls Tony and asks him for a small RV, big enough for three people. Tony gets them an enormous red-and-gold monstrosity with a fully stocked kitchen, five bedrooms, two bathrooms, and three plasma TVs. It literally takes up two whole lanes.

-Right then was when Sam started to have doubts.

-Then when they’re packing, Natasha shows up with about fifty million military-grade weapons that she somehow managed to carry over in her purse.

-“He’s still the Winter Soldier, you know. If you want to stay alive when you face him again, you might need a few small things. See, you fit the Kalashnikov in here, and you’ll have room for these grenade launchers…”

-“We don’t need extra weapons, Nat.” “Steve, just assume that I know better than you. Hold these grenades.” “WE DON’T NEED FUCKING GRENADES, NATASHA. WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THESE.” “STOP BEING A BABY, ROGERS, I HAVEN’T EVEN PULLED THE PIN, THEY’RE TOTALLY HARMLESS.”

-“Steve, maybe we could use a few weapons.” “Bucky’s not going to hurt me!” “Yeah…okay…that sounds completely true and rational…”

-Eventually they compromise, and she settles on six guns, a handful of knives, and a cosh as a bare minimum.

-By then, Sam’s figured out that this was definitely a bad idea.

-The night before they leave, his mom sends over five boxes of cookies “because you need to have enough to eat, even on the road, Sammy." 

-On their first day on the road, Steve keeps teasing him mercilessly about a grown man letting himself get called Sammy. That is, until Sam starts singing “The Star-Spangled Man With A Plan” at the top of his lungs over and over again for an entire hour.

-They don’t get any more mature from there.

-They try doing things "the old-fashioned way” with a map the first three days. But whoever said men were better at reading maps was a liar, because they manage to get lost a grand total of twenty times.

-“I thought you said you read maps all the time during the war?” “Maps were easier to read back then.”

-On the fourth day, they text the Avengers for help, and Clint somehow manages to send them a GPS that Sam immediately names Alicia (after his baby niece; because they both make a lot of noise).

-“Sam, pull over; I have to piss.” “Rogers, there are literally two bathrooms right behind you” is a conversation that happens at least once a day.

-Steve is a giant baby and likes flicking snack-cake wrappers at his friend’s head whenever he’s driving. Sam gets him back later by drinking all of Steve’s favorite blue Gatorade and making him buy refills himself. The extra pee breaks that day were completely worth it.

-Natasha leaves voicemails every day from increasingly unlikely locations, and every time she pretends that she’s definitely not checking on them. 

-“Hey, birdbrain. Hey, dinosaur. Look, I’m in Sri Lanka right now, and I’ve hit a teeny snag with my cover–” *guns fire and people scream in the background* “–but I’m completely fine. If you haven’t given up yet, I hope you’re doing okay finding Barnes. Call me tomorrow and tell me what weird shit you see in Wisconsin, or Wyoming, or wherever the fuck you are.” *explosion and more screaming* “Got to go. Bye, weirdos.”

-Every time Steve makes them stop to ask if anyone’s seen a scary buff guy with a metal arm, Sam swipes his phone just to take about a thousand close-up pictures of cows or corn. After three weeks on the road, the phone’s memory has already been used up twice. 

-They have now forbidden each other from playing any on-the-road games; including but not limited to: “Twenty Questions,” “Truth or Dare,” “People Bucky has probably killed,” “I bet Nat has disguised herself as…” and “I bet Fury is doing…right now.”

-Steve has a playlist on his phone that he likes listening to after they’ve got a lead on Bucky. It’s literally eighty-five percent Taylor Swift, ten percent Adele, and five percent Billie Holiday. 

-“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” “I will strap you to the roof if you say that again.”

-Despite the abundance of bedrooms, Sam willingly sleeps on the couch and Steve willingly sleeps on the floor right at his feet.

-There may or may not be video footage on YouTube of a couple of “unidentifiable” guys in baseball caps and sunglasses singing Disney songs together in a Cincinnati karaoke bar.

-There have been not one, not two, but five instances of a Hydra squid-monster breaking into the RV just to get their stash of pizza bagels.

-Upon arriving in diners or fast-food places for dinner, Sam always refers to the pair of them as “the amazing Falcon, and his sidekick, Captain America.” Much to Steve’s annoyance, people quickly started asking them to write just that on their various pieces of paper or merchandise.

-Every month, Avengers Tower gets a new postcard from a different part of the country with only “Glad you’re NOT here, Tony” written on it. Tony is Very Offended.

-Sam still doesn’t know why Steve cried when they reached the Grand Canyon.

-More than once, Steve and Sam have slept on the couch together after one of them woke up from a nightmare. 

-Sometimes, they get almost tantalizingly close to finding Bucky…and then hit another dead end. The rest of the time, they’re basically just driving in circles around the country.

-Sometimes, when they’ve got the RV parked for the night and Sam’s asleep, Steve’ll call Natasha. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, she just lets him voice all his fears. And then she tells him about all her guilt, her own fears that no one will really accept her, and that old ghost of Clint’s brainwashing that still haunts her. It helps, to not feel so alone in your experiences.

-By the time the team assembles again to save the world, even though they still haven’t found Bucky yet, Steve knows two things. One, that he’s not as alone in this century as he thought he was. And two, that wants Sam to join them on the Avengers.

Get To You (post 7x05) part two

So, some of you guys wanted more to this little ficlet, so I wrote some more to it. Hope it’s not too cheesy and happy Thanksgiving!

He kept her words with him, like an echo in an empty forest, as he walked forward, trying to do his job, his duty. ‘Just hold on, I’m going to get to you.’

‘Just…hold on.’

He gripped the walkie talkie harder than he had before, his pale smooth skin turn a harsh red. He turned back to see Aaron staring at him intently, barely holding back the bated words that threatened to spill from his lips, but he didn’t. He had seen the intense exchange between the lovers, and his shrewd, yet warm eyes had deduced that they desperately needed to talk to one another again, and he was going to make that happen for them.

Before he could do that, the groaning, gurgling sound of a walker knocked them both out of their stupor, as several more approached them. It was then that the walkie static started again, and he couldn’t help but grab for it.

The walkers were closing in, but she needed him. His light eyes locked on Aaron and he immediately went to action, taking down the two walkers closest to Rick with his small hunting knife.


Her voice was again faint, barely registering to him, but it was her voice. And that was enough.

“Yeah?” He asked, using his other hand to reach for his knife in the far side of his duty belt. He crouched down, prepared to take down the walker, when he saw it on the thing, a loose, golden chain hanging from its neck with a tiny pendant in the middle. He needed it, he reasoned with himself.

From his peripheral, he could see Aaron stop, and stare at him as he stopped in front of the walker, and the walkie in his other hand.

“I’m heading north,” she finally said. “What’s your location?”

“We’re up near the highway…we’re trying to get Negan one of those military grade weapons,” Rick admitted to her. “Figured we could find some here.”

On her end there was static again, and shuffling, then more static as the line went blank.

“Michonne! Michonne, do you copy? What’s your location?”

His low voice went up a few octaves as he desperately tried to get into contact with her again. Every possible situation flashed through his mind as he pressed the button again and again. He eyed the walker in front of him, who scarcely resembled Michonne and began to stab it repeatedly, again and again. It’s long dreads and dead eyes eventually becoming a heap of blood and guts on the ground as he stabbed it some more. When he stabbed it, he saw Michonne lifeless, when it crunched, he saw her disapproving eyes, when it no longer groaned, he felt her warm body against his. His heart sped up, sweat poured down his face and temple and into his eyes now.

But before he could tear into it again, a hand came around his wrist to stop him.

“Stop,” said Aaron, pulling him up and away from the walker. He pulled off the necklace and placed it around the walkie in his other hand. “Michonne is going to be okay. Let’s go and rest for a bit and wait for her, alright?”

Rick nodded slowly and allowed himself to be pulled into a small corner in the forest, he rested against the tree as he held the necklace and walkie to his heart.

“Eric and I used to go on these missions all the time,” Aaron eventually began speaking. “He was never used to it, would always disappear, and I loved-love him so much, that I wouldn’t be able to bare it…kind of like you. But each time, he was alright. Sometimes wounded, but alright.”

“How do you deal with that?” Rick eventually asked, never breaking eye contact from the walkie.

“Deal with what?”

“Loving…loving someone that much?”

“You don’t deal with it,” Aaron responded with a smile. “That implies that you have some control over it.”

“I know she can handle herself, but…nevermind,” he pulled himself back.

He had never talked to anyone about his feelings, except Glenn, and Abraham, but they were both–he didn’t want to go there. He closed his eyes, sighing deep within his chest as he allowed the feelings to flow through him once and for all.

“I don’t ever talk about this stuff,” he began. “I…what I feel for Michonne is so strong, so deep, it’s kind of like I’m bein’ sucked in to something, you know? And she’s there to stop that. I constantly think…you can’t be good enough,” he stops when he hears that telling static on the other end of the walkie talkie.

“You really feel all of that?” Michonne’s shaky voice came on the other side of the line.

His eyes popped even more open at her words. “You heard all of that?”

“Yeah, I did,” she admitted. “I’m okay, don’t worry, Rick. I’m almost there.”

“What happened to you earlier?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath as she debated on telling him that she’d encountered a woman on the road, the same one who burned their mattresses, and she held out her katana, debating on whether or not she should kill her right then and there, but instead she fought her and asked her to lead her to where they were, took a gun, and asked if she could drive her north. Now, the woman laid unconscious in the back seat of that car as Michonne ditched it, following Rick’s pronounced footsteps through the forest.

“I told you,” she admitted softly. “I fought someone and I won, and now I’ve figured it out. I’ve figured out how we can do this.”

“How far away are you now?” She’d never heard his voice so desperate. The longing was palpable as she stated at the back of his head, Aaron shook his head knowingly and left.

Rick turned around and ran to her, pulling her into his arms like a dying, starving man. He nuzzled her neck, kissed her all over, crushed himself into her, breathed in her scent, everything that he could do and she did the same.

“I feel the same, by the way,” she whispered.

He thought back to what she overheard and smiled. He had to thank Aaron for that later.