“Assassin sounds so exotic.. hah, I was just a murderer.”
Known as ‘The Iceman’ Richard Kuklinski killed more than 100 people as a Mafia hit man, all while his wife and children were completely oblivious. He was known for the many ways in which he killed his victims, including shooting, stabbing with ice picks; hand grenades; crossbows; chain saws; and a bomb attached to a remote-control toy car. His favorite weapon, he said, was cyanide, which he sprayed into a victim’s face using a nasal-spray bottle. He is perhaps one of the most remorseless criminals, killing for fun as well as profit. Once, he told an interviewer that he used to walk down busy streets and blow a cocktail of lethal, powdered chemicals into strangers’ faces to kill them. Standing at an intimidating 6 ft. 5 and weighing over 300 lbs, it was no surprise that he was the mafia’s favourite hit man. A full interview with the killer can be viewed below:
As an actor, Steve Buscemi’s curriculum vitae includes murderer, gangster, addict, and bum, but off-screen, he’s a stand-up, blue collar guy from Brooklyn. Before his acting career heated up, a young Buscemi worked as a firefighter for Little Italy’s Engine 55. The day after the September 11 terror attacks, he went to Ground Zero in his old gear to join his former team. He worked long shifts with them for nearly a week, clearing rubble and searching for survivors. Buscemi never boasted about his volunteerism. It was fellow firefighters that revealed what he’d done. In 2014, he collaborated on an HBO documentary called A Good Job: Stories of the FDNY.
On 14 February 1929, St Valentine’s Day, four men disguised as police walked into a garage on North Clark Street, Chicago, lined up the seven people inside against the wall and shot them dead. At the height of the 1920s - the era of Prohibition, which was dominated by gangsters - the murder of seven men stunned the nation. It was later revealed that Chicago mobster Al Capone ordered the ‘hit’ but that the real target, mob leader George ‘Bugs’ Moran, escaped the carnage. Ultimately, the St Valentine’s Day Massacre turned the American public against urban folk heroes like Al Capone and ushered in a new era - the Depression.
Request: Could you write an imagine with a chubby!reader dating joker? And he’s an ass at first but realizes the reader is an amazing person and just as crazy as he is?
A/N: Awweeeeeeee yes hunty I got you :)
You had never been skinny. Point, blank, period. But at the end of the day you had gotten through the rough stages of puberty and grew into a, well, a pretty damn sexy woman. You had also entangled yourself with bad crowd, gangsters, mobsters, murderers, but then again they were your people. And….you had met this guy, the Joker to be exact.
He was the most beautiful man you had ever met, his vibrant green hair, his ice blue eyes, and not to mention his plentiful black tattoos that covered his body. He was perfection on the outside, but on the inside was a different story. Psychotic you could handle, but the insults were a different story. J always commented on your weight, how you were useless in the business, how you’d be better 50 pounds lighter.
You knew it wasn’t good. But at the same time you were obsessed, he was like a drug you couldn’t quit, and didn’t want to quit.
The time came for another date, it was a late Friday night and you had just began to get ready putting on a black body con dress, and finishing the touches to your sultry makeup, tucking a handgun in your purse. You had just entered the biggest deal of your life and it was on the line, but you refused to let it stop you.
Stepping out of your lavish apartment you hopped into a sleek black car to make your way to the date. Pulling up to a fancy restaurant you smiled and smoothed out your dress over your elaborate curves, walking in and over to your reserved table. You smiled wide when you saw the Joker sitting down, looking dashing in a semi buttoned downed maroon shirt. “Hello there Mr. J.” He looked up at you blankly, “Have a seat.” You were sure there was a look of confusion on your face at this point, he was never this monotone, this expressionless.
“Is something wrong?”
Just as he was about to open his mouth an explosion erupted from the front of the restaurant, blowing bits of glass everywhere.
“Y/N I HEARD YOU MADE A LITTLE DEAL WITH MY FRIEND, I CAN’T HAVE THAT.”
Shit, you had known this big deal had been dangerous before you had signed the contract, but you didn’t know it was going to be this bad. You quickly pulled out your gun and stood, aiming at the voice and shot. The man fell down, and then you felt a tap at your shoulder, “Wrong one sweetheart.” You turned to see an ugly scarred face and you immediately pushed back dislodging him, but he was strong and tackled you both to the floor.
Grunting you felt shards of glass stick themselves in your skin, but you used the pain to fuel yourself and pushing up you rolled over, and straddled the man. Quickly you pressed your gun against his temple.
“I think you owe me and apology.”
The guy’s eyes were glaring at you, “Suck my dick honey.” You smiled and moved the gun slowly down his face and roughly into his mouth.
Leaning in closer you whispered, “Like this?” and gagged him with the barrel of your gun, “Oh but baby I’m so close.” And with a bend of your finger he was dead. You sighed and got up brushing yourself off of the glass and blood.
Looking around you saw the Joker standing, smiling. “Well well well, it seems as though I was wrong about you.”
You stood there in the rubble with an eyebrow raised, “I thought you would break under the insults, but sweetheart you did so great.”
Confused you opened your mouth to speak, “J what are you on about?” He smiled a silver grin and strode over to you, taking you into his strong arms, “I want you to officially be my girl Y/n.”
You smiled widely and pressed into him, “Mmm, how could I say no to you?”