#firearm evaluation

[historyofguns]

The article titled "Taking the Echelon Out to 200 Yards" published on The Armory Life by Beyond Seclusion provides an overview of the capabilities and innovations of the Springfield Armory Echelon 9mm pistol. The article discusses the historical context of the popular 9mm cartridge and examines the advancements in pistol design, notably the incorporation of polymers starting in the 1970s, which significantly enhanced the weight and ergonomics of modern pistols like the Echelon. The author highlights the distinctive features of the Echelon, such as the Variable Interface System which allows adaptable optics mounting, and emphasizes its design to accommodate red dot sights for extreme distance shooting. Demonstrating the pistol's performance, the author shares experiences and findings of shooting at various distances, including successfully hitting targets at 200 yards using a Trijicon RMR red dot sight, showcasing the Echelon’s effectiveness in both standard and extended range scenarios.

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Behind Closed Doors

Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words

A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough

You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.

"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.

"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”

"Not for another hour."

"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."

“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."

This caught your attention. "What test?"

She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."

"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"

"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."

"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"

Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."

You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.

You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?

Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.

You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.

Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.

Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 

Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.

A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.

"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.

"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.

"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."

You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.

"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"

"I need to reschedule."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"

"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."

"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."

A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 

With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.

"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

You cocked your head to the side.

What were you doing here? 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."

His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"

"So you've heard.”

"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."

"If they let me back on the team."

"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."

He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."

He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.

"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"

You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."

"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."

Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"

"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”

Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.

"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.

"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"

"I never said that.”

Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”

You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.

It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.

You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.

"Y/N?"

Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 

The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.

With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."

But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.

Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.

Your face grew hotter at the thought.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.

"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."

He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"

"I... uh..."

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."

Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.

It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.

But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.

"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"

"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."

With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.

You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.

He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 

With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 

Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.

"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.

“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."

He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.

"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 

"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."

"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."

You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."

“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”

“Me? What about—oh.”

His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”

You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”

“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”

You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”

You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”

“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”

You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.

“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”

“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.

“Lift your hips for me.”

You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.

“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”

Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.

He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.

“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”

Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.

“I… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.

“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”

Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.

“Do you often touch yourself?”

Your head fell back as he started to move.

“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.

"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.

“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.

“Have you ever thought of me?”

Whoa.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.

This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?

A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.

"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”

What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Uh… This is slightly better.”

“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”

Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”

The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"

Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”

With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."

Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."

He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.

You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.

This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.

You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.

"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.

"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.

"Don't answer it."

"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"

Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”

Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”

"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”

You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 

“…he's also been stalking younger women."

Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.

“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”

You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"

"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."

Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.

“Are you with someone?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”

There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.

“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.

“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”

She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.

“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.

"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.

"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”

Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—

“Y/N!”

“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”

You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.

"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"

You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.

It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”

“Good intense?”

“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.

“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.

Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”

“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”

Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."

Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.

Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 

He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.

[howdoesone]

How does one differentiate between functional and non-functional antique firearms?

Differentiating between functional and non-functional antique firearms is crucial for collectors, enthusiasts, and historians who wish to understand the true nature and value of these historical artifacts. While some antique firearms may still possess the capability to fire, others have been rendered inoperable over time or intentionally deactivated. This comprehensive guide will provide you with…

[gloomglimmer]

𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑  𝟎𝟎𝟏  here  is  my  latest  dossier  template!  designed  to  help  you  explore  and  develop  your  character  in  depth!  please,  like  or  reblog  if  you  intend  on  using. 

BASICS

Full  Name:

Known  Alias(es):

Age:

Gender:

Birthday:

Heritage:

Religion:

Sexual  &  Romantic  Orientation:

Status:  (Alive,  deceased,  missing,  verse-dependent,  etc.)

Residencies:  (List  properties,  safe  houses,  or  frequently  visited  locations.)

Highest  Education  Level:

Occupation(s):  (Primary  career,  side  ventures,  or  any  criminal  affiliations.)

PHYSICAL  EXAM

Facial  Features:

Faceclaim:  (Optional  visual  reference)

Voice:  (Describe  tone,  accent,  speaking  style,  and  cadence.)

Voiceclaim:  (Optional  reference  for  speech  patterns  or  voice  tone.)

Eyes:

Hair:

Body  Type:

Distinguishable  Marks:  (Scars,  tattoos,  or  unique  features.)

Weight:

Height:

MENTAL  EVALUATION

Mental  Illnesses  (if  applicable):  (Diagnosed  or  speculated  disorders.)

Psychological  Profile:  (Core  motivations,  fears,  triggers,  etc.)

Positive  Traits:  (List  at  least  four.)

Negative  Traits:  (List  at  least  four.)

Alignment  Type:  (D&D  alignment  or  custom  moral  code.)

Personality  Type  (MBTI):

Phobias:  (If  any.)

Mannerisms:  (Unconscious  habits,  nervous  tics,  or  common  gestures.)

Hobbies  &  Interests:  (Leisure  activities,  intellectual  pursuits,  or  obsessions.)

STRATEGIC  ANALYSIS

Combat  Style:  (Brutal,  strategic,  erratic,  refined?)

Weapon  of  Choice:  (Blades,  firearms,  improvised  weapons,  etc.)

Hand-to-Hand  Combat  Proficiency:  (Strengths  &  weaknesses  in  close  combat.)

Tactical  Strengths:  (Leadership,  adaptability,  patience,  etc.)

Tactical  Weaknesses:  (Blind  spots,  arrogance,  temper,  emotional  ties.)

Signature  Techniques:  (Favored  moves  or  combat  tricks.)

Pain  Tolerance:  (How  well  do  they  withstand  pain  or  injuries?)

Defensive  Skills:  (Escape  artist?  Counter-fighter?  Tank?)

AFFILIATIONS  &  RELATIONSHIPS

Family:  (List  members  and  relationship  status.)

Allies  &  Associates:  (Trusted  confidants  or  powerful  connections.)

Rivalries:  (Ongoing  personal  or  professional  conflicts.)

Enemies:  (Those  actively  working  against  them.)

Romantic  History:  (List  known  or  rumored  relationships.)

Notable  Friends:  (True  friendships  vs.  strategic  alliances.)

HABITS  &  LIFESTYLE

Daily  Routine:  (Structured,  chaotic,  or  ritualistic?)

Diet  &  Nutrition:  (Healthy,  indulgent,  restrictive,  etc.)

Exercise  Habits:  (Type  and  frequency  of  physical  activity.)

Grooming  Habits:  (Meticulous,  rugged,  or  indifferent?)

Substance  Use:  (Drinks?  Smokes?  Drugs?  How  frequently?)

Sleep  Patterns:  (Well-rested  or  chronically  exhausted?)

Personal  Aesthetic:  (Style,  wardrobe,  and  preferred  fashion  choices.)

Favorite  Books:

Favorite  Music  Genres:

Favorite  Art/Architecture:  (If  applicable.)

SPECIAL  NOTES  &  CHARACTER  LORE

insert  here

[diristine]

Radnom SCP Headcanons for your viewing, all out of order with no rhyme or reason! Also its cause I feel bad for not posting any art, goddamn you art block!!

So, the psychology department was never that big or really well staffed for the longest time. The Foundation was still stuck in the mental health doesnt matter mindset forever. It was only with help of the ethics committee and other psychologists did it really start to flourish and gain traction. Though even now, it’s still a little frowned upon by some of the workers.

Superstitions run deep in the Foundation, never use ____ door or use the elevator to get to _____ floor. A breach always happens if you do that, even if it hasn’t been proven.

All the gois run on coffee and sheer willpower at any given moment, take the caffeine away and the next X class scenario will be at your doorstep in a moments notice.

There’s a library at each Foundation site, usually hidden away in the archives. Nobody knows of its existence cause nobody wants to go down to the archives, but you can find some pretty good books down there. Hell, theres booktok books in circulation at these libraries its just nobody but the archivists utilize this resource.

Keter duty has devolved into such a vague thing that nobody quite knows what it meant in the first place. Just that if Dr. Glass threatens it, you know youre about to be demoted to D-Class.

Kondraki 10/10 has those little bug pin boards with a bunch of different butterfly species. Like where the wings are poised and positioned via needles and pins, he made them himself! They are displayed proudly both in his home and in his office.

Theres a McDonalds on site, nobody knows how it got there, nobody will question it. Its easy cheap food for the soul when you have no soul left.

The psychology department’s job during bimonthly evaluations is to ensure the workers are still sane, they never mentioned anything about ensuring the workers had morals.

Clef has a pet cat named Little Shit. Did I steal this from that one Clef x Gears tale series on the wiki? Absolutely. Will I apologize? No. It makes perfect sense and it is mine now and Little Shit is a wonderful cat. We need more Little Shit propaganda up in here.

Hawaiian shirts is real to me, nobody can tell me otherwise.

Simon has once in fact bit a napkin he was so tired, people who watched him do so recorded and spread it across SCIPNET or whatever that thing is.

Clef can and will take time out of his day to bend down, untie your shoes, tie the laces of each shoe together like in a cartoon, and walk away as if nothing happened. Youre too confused by this and immediately forget he did so and fall for the trap and end up falling on your face. It works 9/10 times.

Gears reads ao3 fics on his computer, its a whole contest where people submit him fics via email to see if he reacts to the raunchiest and most cringe worthy things possible. He never does externally. You will find him at the medical wing later asking for amnestics due to this new knowledge effecting his work ethic. This contest happens annually.

The Foundation is funded by the overpriced food at The Cheesecake Factory, and also McDonalds…also paid adult websites. They gotta get cash somewhere yk.

There was once a site wide snow ball fight instigated between Glass and Clef. I will not elaborate on this one.

Everyone knows how to shoot guns and have a basic knowledge of firearms on the site. So in case of a breach you can take one from a corpse and theoretically start shooting. Key note: theoretically. Most people panic and die before they realize there was a gun.

Fire alarms go off every day due to people trying to cook things in the microwave. Usually its burnt popcorn or someone forgot to add water to their ramen, sleep deprivation really is an ass.

Theres a whole Foundation Department dedicated to watching Detective Void’s videos and trying to nail this guy, unfortunately for them they realize he has MC&D backing somehow so the best they can do is try to add to the comments of crazed conspiracy theorists and make the videos seem even more fake with worse and worse theories.

Most MTF agents joke theyre all actually women. And the actual MTF MTF agents just call themselves MTF^2 for the joke.

[koralkoffee]

Mr. Challahan, Sir.

❈.. pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

❈.. wc: 21,775k

❈.. warnings: LH!Arthur Morgan, slow burn, physical violence, choking, threats, harassment, intimidation, fear, degradation, biting, attempted sexual assault, attempted rape/non-con, reader is a masochist, reader finds out they’re a masochist, congratulations!, possessive behavior, stalking, blood and injury, sir kink, praise kink, breath play, choking kink, breeding kink, masturbation, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, manhandling, fingering, eating out, blowjobs, face fucking, oral sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, Arthur is a talker, Arthur is a babbler, Arthur is a beggar, because I said so that's why, creampie, lust more than love, no kissing

AO3 Link

❈.. summary- You don’t understand why you feel the way you do about a notorious outlaw. Perhaps, as you lust for him, you will discover something about yourself. ❈.. banners by: @cafekitsune | @bernardsbendystraws | @omi-resources

You haven’t been in this town long, perhaps a year at most, having moved from place to place in search of a new home. You traveled, evaluating one town after the next, stopping only because you had run out of funds and food. As a nurse, the profession you chose, you faced an unexpected challenge: the U.S. was experiencing a large number of women entering medicine, making it nearly impossible for you to find a job.

It was a dry summer day when you found a quaint small town in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t ideal, but you didn’t have much of a choice. The general store shopkeeper was nice enough to give you a job, even though you were a woman; he was desperate and really didn’t care about your gender. You were looking for something else, but knew you had little to no choice—either a “working woman” or a wife. You didn’t like either of those choices.

Your boss gave you one of the rooms above the shop, if you could call it that. The space was tiny as well as dusty from lack of use, but at least it had a door and windows to open. You maneuvered through the tiny hallway, stepping over old boxes as you followed him around, making a mental note to do some serious cleaning. The other room on the second floor was also filled to the brim with random items, your boss telling you how he intended to rent the rooms out once, but never got around to doing it since the day he got his own home—he’s just been too busy.

Friends and acquaintances made it easier to manage your day-to-day, enjoying the company of some of the parlor women and frequent customers. You made deliveries to the girls in the saloon every week, where they would pull you aside to gossip about the men they would lay with, sharing things the customer had told them in secrecy, or how good or bad of a lover they were. You thank yourself again for not venturing down that path, too much drama for your liking.

Life was ok and that was enough, you felt yourself molding into this simple town in the American plains—maybe you would be ok here for a while. After all, you had a roof over your head, food to eat, and you had no issues with any of the town folk. Maybe this could work.

It was an especially hot day when the strangers came into town. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the shop door slam open. The party was loud; booming voices overlapped one another and made you aware that you just got a lot of customers. You had put down what you were doing in the back of the first-floor storage room and came out to the counter, counting six people you had never seen before.

Strangers made you uneasy, especially when they all had copious amounts of firearms displayed on their person. You tried to relax and convince yourself that they’re just like everyone else around here, you see people in the shop every day proudly displaying their pistols or shotguns.

The group didn’t pay you any mind, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Quite a diverse group, you thought, a couple of women and a couple of colored gentlemen gathered items off the shelves—not something you see a lot of in these parts. You looked out the front window to see a few different men smoking and discussing something that looked important. However, your curiosity was cut short as a large-chested woman and Hispanic man stacked their items in front of you.

Continue reading on A03

[teyvat-academy-au]

Teyvat Academy AU || Lore Part 1 || REACTION

It's unfair that I have a Russian-speaking group, but no English-speaking group dedicated to my AU. I've been thinking for a long time about where to get it, so let's try it here) And, of course, first of all, the main details of the Teyvat Academy AU, which I post under each video (at the moment) with minor additions + link to the main playlist: (Part 2)

Teyvat has been cut off from the rest of the Earth for a long time, there was almost no information about it, except that there are many quirkless people there and they believe in some gods. //this implies an island with an Academy more than the world of Teyvat, almost no one has even heard of it.

Teyvat Academy is an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, surrounded by a storm wall that protects both from natural conditions and from espionage. On the island itself there is an official Academy building and various training grounds, seven dormitories (by regions) and several small towns that help maintain the island's infrastructure, various scientists study the Earth, and spies monitor the outside world.

TA conducts not only Hero courses starting from high school (after 9th grade, that is, from the age of 15-16), but also additionally provides an opportunity to get an education in many civilian professions. Every owner of the Visions is required to take a course on controlling their elementary abilities.

TA teaches students how to handle weapons, hand-to-hand combat, element theory, how to introduce themselves in different situations, and the like. Already in the first year, novice heroes are sent to practice at the Adventure Guild in Teyvat. //archers are required to be trained in the use of firearms, for others it's optional

After graduation, students can be Heroes in Teyvat, or go out into the outside world (in this case, they will be provided with support from other well-known Teyvat Agencies)

The Teyvat school became official about 100 years before the canon, and began to make semi-official contact with attempts to establish relations 40 years before the beginning of the MHA canon (at the dawn of the Allmight?)

The opinion of the world about the Teyvat Academy and the owners of the Visions is extremely negative. Causeless people are considered underdeveloped, since people with quirks are the "next stage of human evolution", stronger, fitter. People with the Visions are cheaters, and the Academy sends these poor, brainwashed people to their deaths. In fact, Teyvat in the eyes of the public is an organized cult that brainwashes unreasonable people. //in fact, this is the most popular trope in such AU and everyone just comes up with how to explain its origins.

From time to time, she conducts heroic operations in the outside world, if the threat has been recognized and evaluated by one of the agents. //I have a couple of stories and probably there will be more in the future, you just have to wait)

[kookiedeadbutterflies]

Will and Hidden Toxic Masculinity

The thing about rewatching Hannibal is that you never stop finding something new every single time. It could be your second rewatch or your 5th, but you always catch something new. In my case, it was the realization of hidden toxic masculinity in Will’s character.

When you think of Will Graham, you don’t immediately think “toxic masculinity”. Most people would think “no way” or if you go to the extreme, “Will? Never!”. I certainly didn’t catch it the first few times around. That is until I broke it down and realized it was hidden underneath all the social awkwardness and isolation. And probably all the gothic mumbo jumbo, yes.

In season one, we’re introduced to a highly intelligent and gifted, yet socially awkward and isolated Will Graham. He seems grumpy and rude, but overall harmless, but is he really? We already see some of Will’s manipulative side straight from the get go when Jack offers him a dream opportunity, but can’t pass the psychiatric evaluation to carry a firearm. Through Alana, he finds a way to try to wiggle his way out of it until he’s placed under Hannibal’s care and basically stomps his feet that he didn’t get what he wanted.

And there it is, the first sign. The sign of entitlement.

The thing about Will’s sense of entitlement is it’s something that evolves with time. In earlier parts of the story, we see it as almost bratty and then it turns into something more of possessive and feral. In most cases, it has to do with relationships, something he’s getting used to and also something he craves. A connection. There is nothing wrong with humans wanting connection with others as it’s natural. But in Will’s case, there’s many signs of crossing and even violating boundaries that makes it inappropriate and toxic. That is that he has a tendency to believe he is entitled to relationships he’s not necessarily entitled to have.

Whether it be with Alana, Abigail, or even Hannibal to a certain degree, you see Will getting offended or defensive when they set clear boundaries and/or have a life outside of him.

With Alana, he persistently pursued a romantic relationship with her and despite their mutual attraction to each other, she did set boundaries. Yet you see him continue to attempt to dismantle them and insist they can work out. Even after the first rejection, he drives miles in the snow to announce to Hannibal that he kissed her and that he’s always wanted to kiss her like she’s a sexual conquest. When she came to visit him later in Quantico, he keeps at it, hoping that she’ll come around and accept his advances and gets disappointed in her once again setting boundaries. When he got arrested and escaped, he practically barged into her home expecting her to automatically defend and believe him. And then again in jail, instead of considering her feelings, he said “Dodged a bullet romantically huh?”when Alana is feeling hurt about his supposed actions. After that, she hard rejected him and made it clear that they absolutely weren’t compatible. Yet when he was released after trying to kill Hannibal, he showed her he had no remorse for his actions and practically expected Alana to thank him for his perceived heroic act. No matter how you see it, these aren’t normal things for someone to do. It’s akin to a dog who kills a squirrel and brings it to his owner’s feet, expecting praise. It is disturbing.

With Abigail, regardless of Hannibal’s influence of nurturing paternal feelings towards Abigail, from the get go, Will sought out a special kind of relationship with her. Despite Abigail insisting him killing her father doesn’t make him her dad, Will continues to pursue her. He kept an idealized image of Abigail inside of his mind and became extremely possessive of that ideal. He claims he had bonded with Abigail, but reality says otherwise. Abigail was terrified of Will and believed he would sell her out even in the end. The only Will that Abigail knew is the version Hannibal had told her about. And he says he would be a good father.

When it comes to Hannibal, the first inclination of this entitlement more or less comes when Will comes to his house unannounced during a dinner party expecting them to be alone. Another time, you see him looking subtly offended that Hannibal would have company other than him and before their scheduled appointment. Although their relationship is slowly growing to one of codependency that Hannibal is nurturing, you still see Will expecting Hannibal to be available to him on his time and expectations. And this is season one people…

When it comes to relationships, you see a growing tendency of Will more or less using people to fulfill a need. This is something Hannibal told him directly when it came to him “choosing” his new family. Whether that be normalcy, acceptance, or filling his mind with palatable fantasies, it isn’t a normal or acceptable type of behavior. A relationship of any kind is a two way conversation and more often than not, you see Will disregarding the conversation and turning it into a monologue. He expects others to cater to adjust to him and his wants. It isn’t fair. But inequity is a large part of Will’s character even till the end.

It isn’t until Mizumono and Primavera that he gets a massive wake up call that he realizes, yes, he is toxic and that his toxicity has heavily harmed others including Hannibal.

Usually this is where someone would realize “Wow, I’m such an asshole” and do some self reflection and maybe try to do better…but this is gothic romance. We all know how these stories work when it comes to that. It’s a winding rollercoaster ride.

[kozakz]

Infamous Tcc'ers part 1

Evita Enni Bettiina Kolmonen is a 24-year-old woman from Vaasa, Finland, ex military.

Kolmonen began preparing for the attack as early as October 2021, when she enrolled in a gun training course. Over the next two years, she acquired weapons, studied previous school shooters, and laid out a highly detailed plan to carry out a mass shooting.

On March 12, 2024, she arrived at a local school armed with:

A loaded pistol

7 full magazines

190 rounds of ammunition

A knife

A Molotov cocktail

She had posted a video online revealing her intentions shortly before the planned attack.

Kolmonen reached the school but changed her mind when she saw small children outside. She later confessed that the sight of young children caused her to hesitate and ultimately abandon the plan. Authorities were able to track her down and arrest her the next day in Vaasa, using the video she posted as evidence.

In June 2024, the District Court of Ostrobothnia sentenced her to only 3 years and 2 months in prison for preparing an aggravated and violent crime, also firearms offenses.

Her motives:

Childhood bullying, Loneliness and social exclusion, A deep sense of alienation from modern society.

Friedrich Nietzsche, Pentti Linkola, Ted Kaczynski ,Pekka-Eric Auvinen influenced her.

Her worldview was described as radical, anti-materialist, eco-fascist, and deeply nihilistic.

A part of her 16 pages manifesto:

Name: “The Path to Humanity’s Doom”

(Kolmonen published a 16-page manifesto online shortly before arriving at the school grounds, and accompanied it with a video. She shared links via Instagram and a file‑sharing service while in the school’s parking lot).

“Ignorance and self-centeredness rule, exploitation and individualism are killing the Earth and any Humanity we have left… We have seen the warning signs … scientists aren’t listened to… more drastic measures are needed.”

“I will target a school … This generation is not salvageable … I am here to make change… I love this weapon … sometimes I can’t believe I must do this, but this is the only way.”

“This is a wake-up call … the start of the Great War … a mass-removal attempt … I will be glad if all the TikTokers are gone that day.”

Timelines:

Oct 2021 Begins gun training Summer, 2023 Finalizes plan and obtains weapons,Mar 12 2024 Arrives at school armed but aborts attack,Mar 13 2024 Arrested in Vaasa Jun, 2024 Sentenced to 3 years 2 months prison,Feb 2025 Appeal denied; psychiatric evaluation ordered

TL;DR

Evita Kolmonen, from Finland, planned a school shooting in 2024

Pekka Fan

backed out last-minute

Motive was rooted in bullying, isolation, and eco-fascist ideology.

Manifesto: blaming humanity for climate collapse and moral decay.

Sentenced to 3 years and 2 months in prison

[laguzmage]

Given that Arturia doesn't seem to have a patron firearm (or at least is never depicted with one), and her plots and schemes before and through this event rely on her being able to outplan people/relied on her musical talent, I like to assume the Combat Experience None->Combat Skill Excellent in her file is because they gave her like, a practice sword or something and she was like "Hm, in a sense swordplay is an art" and immediately defeated whoever was evaluating her

[historyofguns]

In the article "Review: Springfield SAINT Victor 9mm Pistol," Dr. Will Dabbs reviews a new firearm from Springfield Armory, called the SAINT Victor pistol. It's a compact 9mm handgun with essential features designed for home defense and recreational shooting. The SAINT Victor is built on the classic AR-15 platform with a unique twist, featuring a 5.5-inch barrel that accepts Colt-pattern 32-round magazines. Its design ensures a smooth shooting experience with reduced recoil. The article applauds its ergonomic features, including an advanced trigger, comfortable grip, and effective muzzle device. Accessorizing options like the Meprolight M22 Pro sight and Streamlight TLR-8G light are recommended for enhanced shooting accuracy and capability. The author concludes that the SAINT Victor 9mm pistol offers a blend of AR-15 efficiency with a soft-shooting 9mm cartridge, making it ideal for home defense at a reasonable price of $1,099.

[vladigoros]

UPDATE: Daniil Mikhailovich Monakhov (Part 3/3)

18-year-old Russian vocational boarding school student who carried out the Bolsheorlovskoye shooting on 12 October 2020 in Nizhny Novgorod Oblast

Note: The last post pertaining to this case is fortunately not the final one, as I ended up revisiting it again due to dissatisfaction with how little information there is that I, at least, had gathered. I was especially curious about his social media accounts, which then led me to uncover more information that I’ll be discussing in this post. Also, new picture! (not really) Part 1: Covers his personal background - family, education, social life, health history, and other biographical details. Part 2: Delves into the October 12, 2020 shooting - the sequence of events, manhunt, aftermath, motive, and broader reactions. Part 3: Discusses his firearm license details and process, as well as other miscellaneous information, including his social media profiles and more. There have also been revisions made to other sections of the document, but they don’t change the narrative. All the changes have been applied in the PDF and the previous posts. If I happen to dig up more later on, I’ll make sure to give an update. Check these out as well: Part 1; Part 2 Here is the updated link of the PDF file. (Apologies for the fucked formatting)

Once again, happy reading.

Firearm Licensing and Acquisition

Under Russian law, civilians must undergo a stringent multi-step process to legally acquire a firearm. This includes obtaining a medical certificate, passing psychological and toxicology evaluations, completing firearms safety training, and receiving official licensing approval.

Front cover of Daniil’s official hunting license booklet According to records from the Russian National Guard (Rosgvardiya), after fulfilling all legal prerequisites, Daniil Monakhov obtained his firearm license and legally acquired a 12-gauge Hatsan Escort pump-action smoothbore shotgun on September 17, 2020. Multiple reports claim that it was a gift from his father, likely in acknowledgment of his long-standing fascination with firearms. However, a close friend from school – whom Daniil had known since 5th grade – stated in an interview with Daily Storm that he purchased the gun himself using his disability funds. “He dreamed of owning a gun – he bought it with his disability benefits and sent us pictures. He was as happy as a clam. I thought it would end with duck hunting.” Daniil reportedly spent years studying firearms, their mechanics, and tactics online, actively engaging in gun-related forums and communities. His acquisition of a firearm shocked some acquaintances, given his previous plot to attack his school.

The following documents trace the licensing process he completed:

Image 1. Medical certificate confirming Daniil Monakhov had no contraindications for firearm ownership

Image 2. Toxicology report showing no illegal substances found in Daniil’s system

Image 3. Medical conclusion stating no narcotics or psychotropics were detected

These documents pertain to Daniil Monakhov’s medical eligibility for firearm ownership. The earliest, dated July 20, 2020 [Image 1], is a general medical clearance stating that no health conditions were identified that would contraindicate weapon possession. On the same date, he also underwent a psychiatric evaluation [Image 3], affirming the absence of narcotic or psychotropic substances in his system, with his informed consent recorded. A few days earlier, on July 17, 2020, a chemical-toxicological analysis was conducted [Image 2], which also returned negative for all controlled substances.

Image 4. Certificate of firearm safety training, completed on August 8, 2020

Image 5. Firearm safety test results, showing all practical exercises were passed

These documents confirm Monakhov’s completion of firearms safety training. Image 4 certifies his participation in a training program on August 8, 2020. Image 5 documents a practical examination conducted on August 12, 2020, in which he passed both the theoretical and practical components related to handling short-barreled and long-barreled civilian firearms.

Image 6. Hunting license issued to Daniil Monakhov on August 7, 2020

This is Daniil’s hunting license, issued on August 7, 2020, by the Committee for the Protection, Use, and Reproduction of Wildlife of the Nizhny Novgorod Region. It legally granted him access to designated hunting grounds and may have supplemented his firearm registration process.

Though the formal requirements were met, questions would later arise about the adequacy of these evaluations, particularly in light of Daniil’s prior mental health history. These concerns are addressed in the aftermath.

In addition to Daniil’s own shotgun, his father legally owned a second smoothbore firearm. Both weapons were reportedly kept in a safe at his grandmother’s residence in the countryside. Though his father had hidden the keys, Daniil discreetly kept track of their location.

Miscellaneous

Note: I have been rigorously digging to the best of my abilities in search of the full original image below without the edited text made on the paper he is holding, but to no avail... It all circles me back to the same source I initially retrieved, which was from an inactive user from an obsolete social media site. The 2ch links that the leak originated from are now defunct. I did entertain the idea of reaching out to that person just in case they have the original, but no thank you.

However, I did manage to find a cropped version that partially displays enough visibility on the text that allows visual inference. From what I can decipher, the bottom text is written in Cyrillic letters saying ‘ЛОХИ’ – a plural form of a Russian slang insult that loosely translates to “skill issue,” “suckers,” or “losers.” The whole text reads “ББ ЛОХИ” which means “Bye bye losers.”

His Odnoklassniki (OK.ru) account: ok.ru/danil.monakhov

He was fond of playing video games, particularly Assassin’s Creed and S.T.A.L.K.E.R., which he seemed to enjoy from a young age. He followed several communities related to both games and also appeared to enjoy The Elder Scrolls series. His grandmother reportedly complained about these obsessions.

Based on the groups he had joined in the site, he seemed to like Spider-Man, the football club CSKA Moscow, and a few groups about Chernobyl. He also enjoyed watching episodes of The Annoying Orange in Russian dub based on his likes.

His VKontakte account: vk.com/id588739233

Note: Apparently, based on what this user shared on a 2ch thread, Daniil was active on VK after the manhunt had already begun, approximately 4 hours after the shooting, at around 8:19 PM.

His signature:

A journalist from ProGorod previously reached out to one of Daniil's acquaintances for further biographical details. However, the individual declined to share anything unless compensated through monetary means. Seems like the journalist refused.

Translation of the exchange:

Acquaintance: I don’t want to do it for free Journalist: How much do you want? Acquaintance: 1500 (rubles), and I’ll tell you everything We can even talk over the phone Acquaintance: From first grade to 11th

Associated individuals:

Father: Mikhail Monakhov / Andrei Smirnov (b. 11/30/1972) ok.ru/profile/557266317210 Mother: Anastasia Smirnova (b. 08/28/?) ok.ru/profile/382491751668 Sister: Mashenka Smirnova (b. 03/25/2009-10) ok.ru/profile/535595087787 Grandfather: Yuri Gromov Grandma's VK page: vk.com/id197787822 (deleted)

Best friend: Sasha Belov ok.ru/profile/525093166622 Classmates: Nastya Isakova ok.ru/profile/523202647506 Evgeniya Frolova ok.ru/profile/468605143673

--------------

Sources:

(No, I am not properly formatting this section)

https://meduza.io/feature/2020/10/15/da-nastanet-sudnyy-den

https://meduza.io/feature/2020/10/13/pod-nizhnim-novgorodom-vsyu-noch-iskali-podozrevaemogo-v-massovom-ubiystve-ego-nashli-mertvym-v-neskolkih-sotnyah-metrah-ot-mesta-prestupleniya

https://dailystorm.ru/chtivo/koshek-i-sobak-ne-trogal-on-celilsya-v-lyudey-reportazh-daily-storm-iz-nizhegorodskoy-oblasti-gde-podrostok-ubil-troih-pensionerov

https://dailystorm.ru/obschestvo/denchik-umnyy-obrazovannyy-chelovek-on-vdohnovilsya-chuvakami-iz-kolumbayna

https://www.rt.com/russia/503279-russia-bus-shooting-nizhny-novgorod/

https://www.nn.ru/text/criminal/2020/10/16/69506003/

https://ngs.ru/text/incidents/2021/10/13/70189367/

https://radiosputnik.ru/20201013/monakhov-1579593848.html

https://www.kommersant.ru/doc/5669774

https://sledcom.ru/news/item/1507416/?type=news

https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/world-news/gunman-18-who-killed-3-22836031

https://www.pravda.ru/health/1540443-monajov/

https://mbk-news.appspot.com/suzhet/lyubitel-oruzhiya/

https://www.opennov.ru/articles/proisshestviya/borskiy-strelok-stoyal-na-vnutrishkolnom-uchete-iz-za-interesa-k-rasstrelu-v-kolumbayne.html?q=news/incidents/2020-10-15/37470&page=5

https://reporter-nn.ru/аналитика/shukher_3112/

https://progorodnn.ru/news/90869

[ilovescp]

I FINISHED THE FULL BODY DESIGN GRGRRHRHGR

(Click on the image for better quality)

Headcanons!! :3

He makes gifts for Agent Diogenes sometimes but rarely gives them the presents because he's a bit shy about it.

His favorite psychological evaluations are the ones with Agent Diogenes. He loves to know more about his crush.

He's exasperated of reminding Dr. Bright to stop trying to kill himself because that's not the correct way of treating his emotions (or feelings about his immortality)

He feels uncomfortable when he has sessions with Dr. Gears.

He can cook!

He likes/is fond of the character cinnamoroll of Sanrio.

His hair is soft, Idk what shampoo he uses but I don't think he buys expensive things.

He has experience with firearms cuz he was an agent before.

He's still nervous when he has sessions with Dr. Alto Clef though.

He doesn't dislike the nickname "Glassy" he may even find it amusing.

He's average stature and somewhat taller than Dr. Iceberg.

He's cottagecore or maybe softcore FIGHT ME.

He has a duck keychain like this one:

[evidence-based-activism]

could you elaborate on often brought up statistics that men commit suicide more often?

Sure!

Prevalence Differences

So, as you've stated, men are more likely to die by suicide. According to the CDC, in the USA, men account for about 80% of suicides [1]. This narrows to about 60% of suicides worldwide [2].

This review article [2] notes that "one of the most consistent findings in suicide research is that women make more suicide attempts than men, but men are more likely to die in their attempts than women."

Much of this gap can be explained by differences in suicide methodology: men tend to use more lethal methods such as firearms [3, 4]. Despite claims to the contrary, however, this difference does reflect the "lethality of their suicidal intent". In other words, women and men who attempt suicide are similarly "intent on dying", but men's choice of methodology means they are more likely to die by suicide.

Crime and suicide

I've seen some commentary questioning the degree to which men's abusive/criminal behavior underlies their greater suicide rates, so I thought I would try to answer this question. (To the degree that it can be answered.)

First, I should be clear that there are many, many interconnected risk factors for suicide [5, 6] and any individual suicide is likely to be multi-factorial. That being said, there is a connection between men's violent and suicidal behavior, which is too often neglected in this conversation.

Criminality in general:

This representative analysis of male suicides in the USA found arrest accounted for ~9% of male suicides. Notably, when dis-aggregated by race, arrest accounted for a statistically significant proportion of White male and Hispanic male suicides, but not Black male suicides. This study did not evaluate the impact of violent vs non-violent crime or conviction. [7]

This representative, longitudinal Swedish study found "violent offenders had nearly five times higher risk ... to die from suicide and non-violent criminals had about two times higher risk." [8]

This representative longitudinal Danish study found "more than a third of all male suicides (34.8%) had a criminal justice history" and that men convicted of sexual or violent offenses had between a 3 and 5-fold higher risk of suicide, and these offenses represented ~7% of all male suicides in the sample. [9]

Intimate partner violence, specifically:

This study found intimate partner violence accounts for over 10% of violent deaths. Of this, 43% were either homicide-suicides, single-suicides (by male perpetrators), or "suicide by police", where each category was majority-male. [10]

This study analyzes the data in another way, finding that "intimate partner violence is a precipitating factor for 4.5% of single suicides", most of which "were of men who perpetrated nonfatal IPV". They also conclude that "when combined with homicide-suicide data, IPV influences 6.1% of suicides overall". (Based on their data tables, this means male IPV perpetration preceded ~7% of all male suicides.) [11]

This study found that, "among men who killed their female intimate partner with a firearm, 59% also took their own life". (They were also not more likely to be on antidepressants than other male suicide victims.) [12]

This study did not directly examine intimate partner abuse, but did find "most male suicide decedents had no known mental health conditions" and one major risk factor was "arguments" with a romantic partner. Considering this effect was strongest for "suicides that occurred during the argument itself" this is likely at least partially driven by the same trends as above. [13]

While the limitations in national data mean the results cannot be definitively confirmed, the trends appear to be similar across the USA. [14]

This Australian report found at least 23% of male suicides involved "family violence", with the decedent male as the perpetrator >80% of the time. [15]

Clearly, there is a connection between men's abusive behaviors and their suicide. It's not the only factor, but it is a significant one, even more than criminality or violent behavior in general.

---

In conclusion, women are more likely to attempt suicide, but men are more likely to die by suicide. Men's reasons for suicide are multifactorial, but there is an undeniable connection with their abuse of women.

I hope this helps you, Anon! Let me know if I didn't address a specific question you had!

References under the cut:

CDC. “Suicide Data and Statistics.” Suicide Prevention, 29 Oct. 2024, https://www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts/data.html.

Vijayakumar, L. (2015). Suicide in women. Indian journal of psychiatry, 57(Suppl 2), S233-S238.

Denning, D. G., Conwell, Y., King, D., & Cox, C. (2000). Method choice, intent, and gender in completed suicide. Suicide and Life‐Threatening Behavior, 30(3), 282-288.

Bommersbach, T. J., Rosenheck, R. A., Petrakis, I. L., & Rhee, T. G. (2022). Why are women more likely to attempt suicide than men? Analysis of lifetime suicide attempts among US adults in a nationally representative sample. Journal of affective disorders, 311, 157-164.

Franklin, J. C., Ribeiro, J. D., Fox, K. R., Bentley, K. H., Kleiman, E. M., Huang, X., ... & Nock, M. K. (2017). Risk factors for suicidal thoughts and behaviors: A meta-analysis of 50 years of research. Psychological bulletin, 143(2), 187.

Richardson, C., Robb, K. A., & O'Connor, R. C. (2021). A systematic review of suicidal behaviour in men: A narrative synthesis of risk factors. Social Science & Medicine, 276, 113831.

Bryson, W. C., Piel, J., & Thielke, S. M. (2021). Arrest and non-fatal suicide attempts among men: analysis of survey data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health. BMC psychiatry, 21, 1-8.

Stenbacka, M., Romelsjö, A., & Jokinen, J. (2014). Criminality and suicide: a longitudinal Swedish cohort study. BMJ open, 4(2), e003497.

Webb, R. T., Qin, P., Stevens, H., Mortensen, P. B., Appleby, L., & Shaw, J. (2011). National study of suicide in all people with a criminal justice history. Archives of general psychiatry, 68(6), 591-599.

Kafka, J. M., Moracco, K. E., Young, B. R., Taheri, C., Graham, L. M., Macy, R. J., & Proescholdbell, S. K. (2021). Fatalities related to intimate partner violence: towards a comprehensive perspective. Injury prevention, 27(2), 137-144.

Kafka, J. M., Moracco, K. B. E., Taheri, C., Young, B. R., Graham, L. M., Macy, R. J., & Proescholdbell, S. (2022). Intimate partner violence victimization and perpetration as precursors to suicide. SSM-Population Health, 18, 101079.

Barber, C. W., Azrael, D., Hemenway, D., Olson, L. M., Nie, C., Schaechter, J., & Walsh, S. (2008). Suicides and suicide attempts following homicide: victim–suspect relationship, weapon type, and presence of antidepressants. Homicide studies, 12(3), 285-297.

Fowler, K. A., Kaplan, M. S., Stone, D. M., Zhou, H., Stevens, M. R., & Simon, T. R. (2022). Suicide among males across the lifespan: An analysis of differences by known mental health status. American journal of preventive medicine, 63(3), 419-422.

Kafka, J. M., Moracco, K. E., Pence, B. W., Trangenstein, P. J., Fliss, M. D., & Reyes, L. M. (2024). Intimate partner violence and suicide mortality: a cross-sectional study using machine learning and natural language processing of suicide data from 43 states. Injury prevention, 30(2), 125-131.

Coroners Court of Victoria. (2024). Experience of family violence among people who suicided 2009-2016. https://www.coronerscourt.vic.gov.au/sites/default/files/2024-09/Coroners%20Court%20of%20Victoria%20Experience%20of%20family%20violence%20among%20people%20who%20suicided%202009-20016.pdf

[wokealqaeda]

On the night of December 14, 1993, a devastating tragedy unfolded at a Chuck E. Cheese restaurant in Aurora, Colorado, when 19-year-old Nathan Dunlap carried out a deadly shooting that claimed the lives of four employees and left one seriously wounded.

Nathan Dunlap entered the restaurant at 9:00 p.m., where he ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and played an arcade game. He then hid in a restroom at about 9:50 p.m. He exited the restroom after closing at 10:05 p.m. and shot five employees with a .25-caliber semiautomatic pistol.

Dunlap first shot Sylvia Crowell, 19, who was cleaning the salad bar. She was hit from close range in the right ear and was mortally wounded. Ben Grant, 17, was fatally shot near the left eye as he was vacuuming. Colleen O'Connor, 17, was fatally shot once through the temple. Bobby Stephens, 20, the lone survivor of the shooting, returned to the restaurant after taking a smoke break outside, thinking the noise he heard from inside the restaurant were children popping balloons nearby.

As Stephens walked into the restaurant and unloaded utensils into the dishwasher, Dunlap came through the kitchen door, raised the handgun at him, and fired a shot that struck Stephens in the jaw. Stephens fell to the floor and played dead. Dunlap then forced Marge Kohlberg, 50, the store manager, to unlock the safe. After she opened it, Dunlap shot her in the ear. As he was taking the cash out of the safe, Dunlap fired a second fatal shot through Kohlberg's other ear after he noticed she was still moving. The manager who fired Dunlap was not present at the restaurant. Six spent shell casings were found inside the restaurant.

Stephens escaped through a back door and walked to the nearby Mill Pond apartment complex, where he pounded on a door to alert someone that he and others had been shot at the restaurant. Stephens was hospitalized at Denver General Hospital in fair condition. As authorities arrived on the scene, they found two bodies in the restaurant's hallway, a third in a room off the hallway, and the fourth in the manager's office. Crowell was sent to Denver General Hospital, where she was declared brain dead. She died from her injuries the next day at Aurora Regional Medical Center.

Dunlap fled the scene with $1,500 worth of cash and game tokens he stole from inside the restaurant. He was arrested at his mother's apartment twelve hours later.

“Every time I seem to move on with my life, I move past everything, it’s in the back of my mind. Because you can never really truly forget, but you can place it aside and not have it affect you, but it seems like every time I do so, something happens and it gets stirred back up.'' -Bobby Stephens.

Nathan Jerard Dunlap (born April 8, 1974) was raised by his adoptive father and biological mother, who married each other when Nathan was a few months old. He had never met his biological father. Dunlap was raised in Chicago, Illinois, Memphis Tennessee, and Michigan, and then moved to Colorado in 1984. Nathan never met his biological father, but his mother was married to his adoptive father when Nathan was only a few months old.

In his later years, both his parents had a history of abusing their children. Dunlap's adoptive father, who had played professional football and weighed over 300 pounds, was most violent towards Nathan. Jerry would throw Nathan against walls, hurl him down the hallways, hit him with objects, and punch him.

Dunlap's mother struggled with mental health issues and was later diagnosed with both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder in 1987. At least twice in Dunlap's junior high school years, he attempted suicide. When Dunlap was 14, his adoptive father asked the psychologist at Overland High School to evaluate him, and testing revealed signs of hypomania. No further treatment or formal diagnostic was applied.

He committed several armed robberies at the age of fifteen, using a golf club and then firearms. He spent time incarcerated at a juvenile detention center, and due to an erratic episode, he was sent to a psychiatric hospital. When released, he began selling drugs. Dunlap was arrested five times on misdemeanor offenses in 1993.

Dunlap began working at the restaurant at a cooker in May 1993 and was fired in July after a disagreement he had with his supervisor over schedule hours. Acquaintances of Dunlap said he was frustrated over the firing, and told a former coworker that he planned to "get even" about the termination.

In September 1993, Nathan began exhibiting signs of hypomania. He immediately stopped eating and sleeping, and became progressively more wild-eyed and unkempt. Prior to the shooting, he committed a series of armed robberies but had never worked.

[maxdibert]

Pantsing someone in public is a humiliation tactic and the effect it has on the victim oftentimes resemble the same effect as other forms of sexual harrassment. It is shameful and indecent, it exposes your intimate area and your naked skin which many cultures consider sexual or semi-sexual. Even if Severus didn’t consider it sa it probably had the same effect on his psyche. I don't want to downplay victims of sexual assault but if I was pantsed like that in public I would view it through somewhat sexual lens therefore the shame from it would be connected to it. He probably didn’t view it like that, but the consequence was probably similar, tho maybe subconcious.

Let’s see, and I say this not only as a woman who has, indeed, experienced sexual violence at various points in her life, nor only as a jurist, but also as someone who has worked in primary legal aid services for victims of gender-based violence: sexual violence is a very broad spectrum.

This is a topic I find very complex and serious to address lightly, especially in a Tumblr post, but I’ll try my best to tackle it.

First of all, sexual violence isn’t just rape; rape is perhaps the most extreme level of sexual violence. Just as when we talk about homicide, there are several types—there’s even the criminal offense of “attempted homicide”—or distinctions between premeditated murder and intentional homicide, the same applies to other crimes. There are different levels depending on context, premeditation, malice, intent, cruelty, etc. We can’t speak of a single crime of “homicide” per se, or “robbery” per se. Armed robbery isn’t the same as robbery with a firearm, robbery with a knife, robbery with coercion, or plain robbery. There are many variants, and the penalties are harsher or lighter depending on these variants. Sexual violence works the same way. Groping someone can be considered sexual violence. Is it the same as rape? No, but it’s still sexual violence. Trying to kiss someone without their consent can be considered sexual violence. Is it the same as rape? No, but it’s still sexual violence. Likewise, grabbing someone and stripping them against their will (and that last part is crucial when reporting a possible crime of this type) in front of a crowd to mock, humiliate, and denigrate them is sexual violence. Is it the same as rape? No, but it’s sexual violence, because sexual violence is based on disregarding the person’s consent and going against their will. It all comes down to desire and consent when we talk about defining sexual crimes: if there is no desire or consent, it’s sexual violence. Period. It may be more or less severe; there may or may not be premeditation; there may be aggravating or mitigating factors, but that’s something assessed later when evaluating the seriousness of the crime—not when determining whether a crime occurred. First, it’s assessed whether there was a crime; then, the other factors are considered.

That said, it’s also crucial to understand that the idea some people have that "it’s not sexual violence because there was no intention to sexually assault" is nonsense. This argument has been traditionally used by the patriarchal legal mentality precisely to exonerate sexual aggressors, leaving victims defenseless. It’s something still used today, not only in assault cases but also in rapes, because many judges with the mindset of a caveman from the Pleistocene believe that if the aggressor "didn’t mean it," then it’s not that bad. Well, involuntary manslaughter exists, and it’s still manslaughter. Reckless homicide exists, and it’s still homicide. There’s the guy who was so drunk he didn’t realize the victim was saying no, and he still raped her—and it’s still rape. There’s the husband who thinks he has a right to have sex with his wife even if she’s not in the mood and doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong—and it’s still sexual assault. Saying someone hasn’t committed a crime just because "they didn’t mean to" is dangerous because the criminal justice system doesn’t work that way; crimes don’t work that way.

I’ve had conversations with convicts serving time for rape charges, and I can assure you that most of them don’t understand what they did wrong. They don’t realize that what they did was assault. This is a reality those of us who work regularly with individuals who’ve committed serious crimes encounter. Many of my colleagues who are social reintegration workers and have participated in prison programs, workshops, and courses inside have had the same experiences as I have: you meet sexual offenders who not only "didn’t mean to" but are completely incapable of understanding that what they did was wrong because, in their worldview, it wasn’t wrong. So trying to excuse someone who commits a crime just because they didn’t understand it was a crime is absurd. It’s like excusing someone who kills because they didn’t intend to kill or because they don’t understand that killing is wrong. It makes no sense. It shows that the person making such claims has zero training in issues of sexual violence and no experience in the legal or criminal field. And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to take subjective opinions on such serious matters seriously if they come from people who’ve never set foot in a prison ward with common criminals in their lives because that’s useless to me. To me, it’s like someone without a medical or nursing degree giving lessons or opinions on how to treat a post-operative patient. These are people who are neither educated nor trained, and I’m not going to allow them to excuse or trivialize serious issues they don’t understand. Sorry, but no.

I find it very dangerous to trivialize certain things so lightly, even when talking about fiction, because fiction always reflects reality and the problems and situations that can arise in everyday life. If fiction is a weapon—and we can all understand this, since people ask for representation, inclusion, and the censorship of the normalization of problematic issues—then we can’t turn a blind eye and start excusing or justifying such serious issues. Otherwise, we generate the rhetorical discourse that certain terribly condemnable matters aren’t that bad, and that’s very dangerous.