goodness has nothing to do with it

if you all ever need a good laugh, always remember that eustass kid thinks he has the ability to kill shanks

anonymous asked:

Honestly, I don't even care if he talks about stunts in the interview. I just want him to promote his music as well! And of it in a good way! It's like when he has to do stunts in real life. Sure it's ways shitty but I can get over it if the exposure is goon and his music and talent are acknowledged!

Like there is no need to barely be happy and write posts about the obvious instead of appreciating what he’s doing and where and how. Louis is stunting and as long as he is and the situation is still there its obvious they are going to be shitty things we have to read and there is nothing we can do about those but we can appreciate Louis, the pictures, the fact that this is the start of his project that we were all waiting for so long!!! When Harry did his print interviews and talked about Kendall or Taylor everyone ignored it or dismissed it because it was known that he had to play along but when it comes to Louis people can’t even pretend to enjoy the good stuff about what he is doing. Lord.

@nthd-jen ha detto: Wow yeah so Italians tan nicely. They are considered “olive” you are “white” because you have more northern pure Italian blood than he southerners which had their gene pool ruined by the gauls of old. Please don’t get mad at someones ignorance :)  and thanks for clarifying.

uhm. okay. uh.

premise: I just came back from the theater and I had a few glasses and I’m not sober so I apologize in advance if I don’t come out sounding as polite as I’d like because I can see that you have good intentions, but… no.

I mean. I know that in the US this phrasing would be sort of fine, but for us it’s… really… not accurate at best. specifically:

  • italians don’t necessarily tan nicely. a lot of us do but a lot of us also don’t. I know other people that don’t and it has nothing to do with where you come from. I have a friend from the north who gets mistaken for middle eastern a lot of the time. I am from the south - like, all my ancestry is from the south - and I don’t tan. at all. like, we’re… not… separated in the sense that people in the north tan and people in the south do. we’re mixed everywhere. it’s not a given.
  • the gene pool thing is… okay, listen, again, I know you don’t mean it like that, but *pure blood* and *ruined gene pool* sounds like a race supremacist pamphlet and here those concepts are a total no-no since WWII. no one considers any gene pool ruined. we’ve been mixed since the roman empire.
  • on that topic, the ‘gauls’ didn’t and couldn’t ruin anyone in that sense because a) the romans conquered gaul, b) the gauls were sort of halfway annihilated, c) the gauls were celts and lived in france/belgium/england of today, if anything the romans (who had already conquered greece and carthago and the middle east) were most probably darker than them so at most it was the other way round. like. france/etc are in the north of europe. italy is in the south. actually most people with blonde hair/blue eyes here are like that because of northern/german barbarian populations invading italy during the end of the roman empire and the middle ages, including Sicily, which is why there’s a bunch of Sicilians with blonde hair and blue eyes around including relatives of mine. (PS: they all tan, I don’t.) but like, Italy’s been mixed since… the greeks invaded the south BEFORE the romans probably. the arabs where here, the moors were here, the germans were here, the french and austrians were here, africans and middle eastern people from all over were here during the roman empire, the spanish also were here (italy’s been conquered/invaded by pretty much everyone up until the unity in 1861) so like…. there’s no sense in speaking of blood purity and the likes, because such a thing hasn’t existed here since millennia. like. please, no.
  • I most probably don’t have one ounce of *northern* blood in me, no really, all my relatives are from the south, and honestly the idea that if I had it’d be PURER than blood which makes me less white is… like… really really REALLY uncomfortable to even consider if I want to put it nicely and really fucking disturbing if I don’t want to put it nicely. this idea of racial purity coming from blood purity is the basis of nazi race theory, like… please… refrain? also because again, I’m not even northern, not that it matters. it’s like this everywhere in italy. we’re all *white* because here WHITE means that you aren’t black or japanese or arabian or visibly not ethnically european/italian, that’s it. it has nothing to do with privilege or race purity.

and like… this is an old ask and it had come at the end of a discourse where like five different people kept on saying that italians were POC just that month (I’m not even counting the other five years of this dumb discourse) and it resurfaced now because this discourse is back again these days (SIGH WHY) and honestly everyone in the italian tumblr userbase is done with this ‘italians are POC’ debate, which is why I probably wasn’t too nice in that ask.

but again, if someone who just went to nebraska on vacation came back home saying that all of the USA are only white people based on their vacation experience people would rightfully get mad, so sorry but I will get mad at someone who says that they came *on vacation* in the country I lived for all of my life and thinks that they know more about it than I do when I’d never presume to do that for somewhere I don’t know anything about and have never been in.

but again pls not the race purity thing. like. no. it’s so not what this is about it’s not even funny.

OTP Questions: Sanvers PT 2

1. Who likes to kiss the other before going to work? Detective Dimples. Of course Maggie would kiss Alex before going off doing her good old detective work. She says it has nothing to do with trying to figure out the best way to kiss Alex with their difference in height.


2. Who would accidentally fall asleep on the couch and the other one would carry then to bed? Maggie is so smol and easy to move, but it would be hilarious to watch Maggie try and move Alex from the couch. ALEX WINS!

3. Who likes to lay ontop of the other? Again, Maggie is smol, so she lays on tol. NEXT

4. Who snuggles up to the other in bed? Actually, this one is Alex. Alex has had this part of her life missing for so long, she always wants confirmation that it is still real and will stay real.

5. Who always compliments the other in the morning? Maggie. While Alex has been proven to take the first step romantically, I think Maggie would have the cutest little compliments in the morning.

6. Who leaves sweet notes everywhere? ALEX. When she has the time, that is. They both work so often, it is hard for these kinds of things. But she puts them in the best places, like on the ceiling. It gives Detective Dimples motive to search for more.

7. Who always forgets their keys? If Alex forgot her keys she would just pick the lock. Maggie has a bunch of pockets. Neither of them are more likely to forget the keys. Alex just said she keeps losing the key to her heart but Maggie keeps finding it. Maggie just left.

8. Who always makes the other a certain type of sweet? THEY ARE SO SWEET FOR EACH OTHER. Now, Detective Dimples seems like a very serious person, but when she is with Alex her dimples make dimples.

9. Who would run a bath for the other? Maggie doesn’t like baths. She says it’s like sitting in your own dirt. Alex says she doesn’t have time for baths. Maggie just confirmed that she takes showers as long as baths, she just sings in the shower.

10. Who gives the other a piggy back? I’d love to see Maggie try and carry Alex around. Alex just teased Maggie that she can’t carry her. Now Maggie is trying to pick her up. This could go on for hours.

Any more questions? Additions? Oppositions? Let me know!

Originally posted by machinesvoice

Find part one here

constantvexation  asked:

While I'm thrilled that American Gods has a series, I'm also a little disappointed that Good Omens hasn't yet got the adaptation many people feel it deserves. Do you think that will ever happen now after Sir Terry's heartbreaking passing?

It had better. Or else I’ve spent the best part of the last three years writing the scripts and setting it up at the BBC and with Amazon for nothing.

Sana: 

- doesn’t expose the bitchy crap Sara did to her

- clarifies that Isak has nothing to do with it 

- is the bigger person and owns up to her mistakes

- cares deeply about Vilde even when she’s disloyal

- genuinely feels bad for hurting people even if they’ve hurt her

- is too damn good for this world

An AU where Bitty didn’t go to Samwell and instead started working at a bakery in Providence. The bakery is around the same neighbourhood where Tater lives.

Tater starts frequenting the place and soon enough, you guessed it. Bitty and Tater become friends.

The best of friends. The ride or die friends. The I’d hide a body with you friend. But also the how many skittles can you fit in your mouth? Friend.

Tater starts a lot of his stories with ‘B and I…’ ‘Took B to’ 'B is’ etc and everybody starts assuming that B is Tater’s girlfriend, until he brings him for a game.

Everybody sort of goes 'oooooh’ and assumes this is Tater coming out and bringing his boyfriend to meet them. And if you think about it, it sort of explains Tater calling him B.

Then Tater comes super excited one day. 'B will move with me!’ And they all congratulate him and everything, thinking it’s so nice that Tater and Bitty’s relationship is going well, while actually Tater has been nagging Bitty to move in so he can have access to pie 24/7.

But also because Bitty is his best friend and since he bought his apartment he has been feeling a little lonely, this is the reason that does convince Bitty to move in because he has been feeling a little lonely too.

Fast forward a year, Jack graduates and joins the team. By this point Bitty is a regular at the games, he is a very in demand babysitter and makes a lot of food for the players.

Before he starts, Guy and Marty take the time to feel him out and explain that Tater has a boyfriend, and that they will have nothing but acceptance in their locker room.

They do this after asking Tater if it was ok to tell Jack about Bitty.

'No problem!’ Tater replies happily 'But B so good he need no introduction.’

Jack is pleased by this of course, and happy he is in a welcoming team.

Then Jack meets Bitty.

And to make it better, let’s say he meets him when he is carrying a bunch of stuff for the nook.

'You should eat more protein,’ Jack jokes after seeing all the pies, and offers a hand to carry things.

Bitty jokes/flirts back. They are having a moment, Jack feels butterflies in his stomach and well, if the team is ok with Tater, surely they’d be ok with him…

'B! You made it!’ Tater bellows from down the hallways and rushes over, picking Bitty and putting him in a bear hug. 'I miss you.’

'Tater!’ Bitty yells laughing, and kisses his cheek playfully, 'you saw me this morning.’

'Yeah but you sleepy, you grumpy when sleepy. Like tiny bear.’

And then Bitty and Tater start to bicker like an old married couple. This whole time Tater is holding Bitty up.

Jack stomach drops to his feet, because of course Bitty is taken. By his teammate.

Jack develops a crush, a massive problematic crush because holy fuck Tater is the nicest person ever, and he would never want to get in between him and his boyfriend, but also he is terrified of Tater finding out because he once took two defence man by himself and won.

Meanwhile, at Bitty and Tater’s home, Bitty flings himself dramatically over the counter.

'Tater! I’m in love. Jack is so cute and nice, I like him so much.’

'Jack nice guy, he good guy for you. I approve,’ Tater says solemnly with a mouth full of pie.

'Say it don’t spray it,’ Bitty asks for the millionth time. 'Do you know if he likes guys?’

And then Tater being the good friend he is, tries to feel Jack out and play matchmaker, while an increasingly alarmed Jack thinks Tater is warning him off about crushing on Bitty.

Which isn’t helped by the fact Bitty keeps popping up to chirp him, which kind of feels like flirting but surely not…

Things get clarified and everything, Jack and Bitty start dating, and Tater has to explain 8 times to everybody that no, he never dated Bitty.

'We kissed once. We agree weird. We best as best friends,’ Tater says once again.

'Yeah but if he was going to date somebody other than you why couldn’t it be me?’ Poots complains loudly.

'You no good enough for B,’ Tater chirps back. 'I only let B date good teammate who didn’t eat my pie.’

'Will you let that go man!? I didn’t know it was yours.’

'It had sticky paper with Tater on it! You don’t fool me Poot, you food thief!’

Real talk - Hogwarts Houses

Listen up folks!
So, we all know about our Hogwarts houses and we also know that it is an unspoken rule that your Hogwarts house is kind of your own very important, very chaotic but also very lovable family.

However, I am slowly but steadily getting sick of hearing:

“Oh, you’re a Slytherin, so you are an evil piece of shit.”

Like, no. Kindly f*ck off. It’s true that once you have pissed me off, I’ll make your life miserable, but that doesn’t mean that I’m evil, at least not per se.

And this does not only go for Slytherins.
It goes for every house.

Gryffindors aren’t reckless.
Hufflepuffs aren’t vulnerable.
Ravenclaws aren’t boring.
Slytherins aren’t evil.

You wanna know how I know? Apart from the obvious evidence given in the books, let’s just take one short look at their freakin’ crests.

☆ GRYFFINDOR ☆

Their house animal is a bloody lion!
Yes, it’s true that male lions sometimes fight recklessly. BUT, a lion pride has a strict hierarchy and rules which are to be followed. The young lions are to be protected at all cost and the pride is literally living together. Whether they are hunting or grooming each other or simply lying on the sun together. They protect each other, the pride and their territory.

So, should you ever think that Gryffindors are happy go lucky idiots , than you are most likely fucking wrong. Thank you very much.


☆ HUFFLEPUFF ☆

Oh boy, don’t even get me started… You think a badger is cute and harmless? Well, yes they are, but still. Have you ever heard of the honey-badger? Probably the most badass living mammal I have ever heard of. That animal eats snakes! Freakin’ snakes!!
It digs out the honey out off a bee hive and gets stung ten to twenty times and simply does not give a shit.

If you still think Hufflepuffs are vulnerable you better get ready to get your ass kicked.

☆ RAVENCLAW ☆

Alright, so, Ravenclaws always read and have a stick up their arse? Well, think again!
Their animal is a motherfudging eagle. That creature is so epic even Americas bald eagle loses its feathers. Have you seen its claws? Because I have and they certainly aren’t just for decoration.

They might have their head in the clouds but from up there they can see all your flaws so shut the fuck up about Ravenclaws being boring.


☆ SLYTHERIN ☆

Yes, you say the snake is an evil demon? Well , you thought wrong, asshat! It’s true that the snake is a sign of the wicked, but it is also known for its wisdom and healing. Snake poison is indeed used for certain antidotes hence the use of the snake as the sign of medicine.
Furthermore , in mythology it is the symbol of eternity and primal energy (Uroborus.)

So yeah, you wanna say that I’m a piece of shit? Okay, maybe so. But that has nothing to do with my Hogwarts house. So leave it.

Sonic the Hedgehog is basically some sort of freaky cryptid, isn’t he?

No, I don’t mean because he’s an electric blue hedgehog, though there is that.

I mean… like, back in the day when 2D platformers were all the rage, everybody wanted to be the next Mario. There were about a billion different attempts to manufacture a mascot-driven platformer franchise by corporate decree; some flew high and crashed hard (e.g., Earthworm Jim); some were bad jokes right from the get-go (e.g., Bubsy); and some have just bumbled along doing their thing, no gushing headlines but no hysterical laughter (e.g., Rayman) - and then there’s Sonic.

Sonic is the one mascot-by-committee who’s managed to make good. He has a goofy design, a self-consciously “edgy” personality, and basically nothing to distinguish him from any of dozens of failed efforts, yet everybody loves him. And on top of all that:

a. Most of his output has ranged from mediocre to terrible for longer than the bulk of his current fanbase has been alive - there are literally kids who love Sonic in spite of the fact that his last standout game came out before they were born; and

b.  He’s a console mascot for a defunct console.

… and yet he’s coasted on pure name recognition for decades, and is routinely mentioned in the same breath as mascots like, well, Mario.

Like, I’m not saying it was aliens, but…

Ireland’s “first gay Taoiseach” is NOT a moment to celebrate.

I’m making this post because I just KNOW that posts of praise are going to start circulating among people who do not understand what Leo Varadkar is like. People who don’t know that he would rather rub sandpaper along his eyeballs than deal with the working class. Who don’t know that he has repeatedly stated that he is pro-life. Who don’t know that, despite being openly gay, he has done nothing for the LGBT community in Ireland.

This is a lurch to the right. This is not good. If you’re in the UK, the best comparison I can make is that Varadkar is a Tory. While there might be some good eggs in Fine Gael, Varadkar is decidedly right-wing conservative, self described “social conservative”, and with the progress Ireland has been making, this is bad news for any momentum we might have been building.

Your orientation doesn’t decide how much of a good person you are. A first openly non-hetrosexual leader would be a great thing to be able to celebrate, but this is not something to cheer about.

survivors: this show is super harmful and triggering and does more harm than good
parents: my child has begun harming themselves after watching this show
schools: there’s been a spike in self harm along with a rise in concern for the mental health and possible damaging effects of this show
book readers: this show’s portrayal of such sensitive scenes can do more harm than good
triggered viewers: all it did was show me that suicide IS the answer
franco alonso lazo medrano: literally imitated the show by killing himself and leaving behind tapes with instructions.
selena: aNYWAYS!!! this show is great and does nothing but good and is just an HONEST PORTRAYAL :)))) catch season 2 on netflix in 2018!!! uwu

when we were seven years old and red-cheeked at the sunrise of our lives, i wrote you a letter and slipped it in your schoolbag when no one was looking. catholic school nuns taught us that god is always watching and maybe god saw me do it. back then i didn’t care. now i’m not sure if he even exists. still i believe that if god did exist, he wouldn’t give a damn about a love letter a girl wrote for another girl.

it wasn’t exactly a letter.

it was a poem i stole from a book i can no longer name because i didn’t write poetry yet and i wouldn’t until much, much later. i was the first person you showed it to. i swallowed my heart and framed a boy classmate who liked you.

i thought i’d gotten away with it.

we were alone after class as always when you said, “you wrote it, didn’t you?” for the first time, i became acquainted with the sensation of crashing. scrambled insides. a soul inverted. i still don’t know how i managed to laugh like it was a joke. i denied everything. i think you believed me.

i kind of wish you hadn’t.

time led us to different places and different lives. i dropped the sketchpad and picked up the textbooks, traded the dream of artist for neurosurgeon. i misplaced pieces of myself. i found new parts. i wrote a poem for the very first time. i lost myself in the lips of people who don’t even know your name and wrote poetry about them.

i forgot about you.

we are seventeen years old on the cusp of the midday of our lives when i see you again. it’s seven-thirty in the morning by the old school. your classes have already started and yet there you are, strolling like you can stop time at any moment. you don’t even look at me but the snapshot of you mid-step, framed by the early morning sunlight, rushes at me like a sucker punch and i find that i can barely breathe.

you grew up.

your beauty once crept on people. soft and gentle. moonlight. now it turns stranger’s heads. glittering and dangerous. you are the sun trapped in a vessel. your light might blind me but i want to keep looking at you.

i want to greet you good morning and ask you how you’re doing. i keep walking.

it’s shallow but i fall in love with pretty strangers all the time and you’re no exception. you were my best friend once but now you might as well be anyone, and anyone is easy to forget. so i almost forget you again but it seems like something out there doesn’t want me to, because you find me on instagram, of all places. i can only feed on so many glimpses of a life that has nothing to do with me until the urge to hear your voice again overwhelms the fear in my veins.

i type: how are you? do you remember me? 

i type: do you remember the letter?

but all i send is: hi.

— a letter i will never send | the list of people i’ve fallen for | OCEAN M.

Soulmates (AU) Part 2

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 2677

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.

Part One


There were very few things that bugged Y/N in life. Y/N hated when people didn’t use their turn signals when driving, or when people walked too slow in front of her, or when people rolled their eyes or stared at her, but she absolutely loathed when people wouldn’t respect her choice and try and force her to talk. It was clear, crystal clear, that she wasn’t much of a talker, and yes or no questions where the good route to go, but when people edged her on she got upset.

For example, Harry just couldn’t wrap his mind around how his other half would not utter a single word to him. Y/N had written down on a whiteboard that she was ‘mute’ and would really prefer if Harry stayed away from the label. She explained that even though he was her soulmate (and she would love to be open with him) talking just didn’t seem like something she was ready for.

She watched as Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, and frowned. She could feel his annoyance (literally) and she wanted to stub her toe on the table just to tick him off, but she felt like it was rude and she didn’t want to put herself through the pain as well.

“So like what? I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with someone who won’t talk to me?” Harry asked, his eyes on her as she walks down the hallway of her apartment complex.

Y/N shrugs, ‘learn asl,’ she signs.

“The fuck does that mean?” Harry spat.

Keep reading

2

hey, day two of mchanzo week is AUs and i drew Punk Hanzo and Bartender McCree from the awesome fic King’s Row Calling by @malevolentmango​ 

really good fic which i came for the pun, and stayed for everything else. (also i’m pretty sure mccree has both his arms in the fic but i felt like drawing his robo hand)

Jacket details…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice for writing characters undercover? Thanks!

So, we’ve covered this topic a lot in the past. Undercover operatives, intelligence agents, black ops, assassins, and spies I’d start with a spies search on our website, as that’ll get you started. The really good references will be there. My big advice for writing any kind of spy fiction is to have a clear idea of what you want and which genre you’re chasing. Do want James Bond or George Smiley? You can blend these genres, but it’s a good idea to have a clear idea as that’ll define your narrative.

The first thing to understand about spies and any sort of shadow operative is the Burn Notice quote: “A spy is just a criminal with a government paycheck.”

Take a look at this passage. This is a character (Thirteen) trained as an undercover operative exiting a bad situation. What do you see?

Limping down the hall, I forced one foot before the other. Slowly, my stride lengthened. The silver door at the end didn’t open, so I pushed it, and stumbled out onto the launch pad. My gaze fell on a string of oval automatic airstreams parked all in a row. No, I frowned, eyes sweeping to street and the vehicles winging by in the air overhead. No self-respecting AI would let me drive in this condition. Robots always insisted on hospital, and I had no time to hack. To get out fast, I needed a human. A cabbie. Older, preferably female. Fingers to my neck, I tapped twice. Up came the ODS, my thoughts linking to: call a cab. Human.

A string of numbers and faces appeared before my eyes, the oldworld men and women working a dying industry. Better for No Questions Asked rides in our digital world, no one else called when they could pay a corporate run robot for half the cost.

I picked the first female face that flashed across my dash.

Time to pick up… thirty seconds.

I gripped my injured arm, and ran an analysis. Tucked out of sight, Sixteen’s pistol rested against my ribs. Ammunition at less than half a magazine, so seven rounds. Eight, if I counted the one in the chamber. The Uplink already registered the irreparable damage and severed the blood flow to the damaged limb. So, no more bleeding out. My upper lip curled. A bad trade off for no more arm. Damn, Sixteen.

Fifteen seconds.

I couldn’t hide in the shadows. Needed to seem desperate, distraught. Call up tears.

Ten seconds.

My blurred gaze flicked to the skyline, watching for black. The Ghosts wouldn’t appear in the datastream. Still, NIS hadn’t cut my access. Not yet.

Five.

A beat up airstream in ruby red dropped out of the sky to the left, pulling up to the curb. They were early. From the shabby state of their car, probably desperate. Good.

I limped over quickly. Even if they weren’t my ride, they were human and sitting in the driver’s seat. A car enthusiast who needed no AI systems to handle the steering. Likely to have built in cameras. More likely to possess a slow Uplink. Slow data received poor police service. My fingers seized the handle, flung open the door, and threw myself inside.

“Need a ride?” the voice was sympathetic, unfamiliar.

I slid across the bench into the seat behind the driver. My free hand tight on my damaged limb, couldn’t do much about my nose. So, instead, I tilted my head and caught her reflection in the mirror. Younger. Mid-thirties. Red hair worn short with one gray streak, tied back in a severe bun. Clear hazel eyes. Talk like you’re in pain, scared, but putting on a brave face. Tears. I wiped the blood from underneath my nose, sniffling. “Y-y-yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Thanks.” I tried for a half-smile, half-grimace, and leaned on the window. “Just looking to get away. The address should be—”

“You don’t need to worry, I have it,” the driver said. “Came in with your order. Grace, right? You want to go downbelow, the Rep Shop.”

“Yeah.” Resting my cheek against the glass, I closed my eyes; Uplink sizing up her car’s systems. Automatic turned off, but easy enough to hijack. My free hand drifted off my injury, and moved near the pistol hilt jabbing my ribs.

“I’m Marla, I’ll be your driver today.” A pause followed. “You sure a pretty girl like you wants the Rep Shop? Not a hospital? You look pretty banged up.”

“No,” I replied. I got what she suggested, this was a nice neighborhood. “I just need… need to go…”

“Boyfriend trouble?”

I grimaced, eyes squeezing shut, and wished I felt a twinge of guilt. It’s like the Overseer always says, love is just a cover.

“Don’t worry, no need to say it,” Marla said as the engine revved, the floorplates shook, and the airstream lifted skyward. “Shipped enough victims out of here to know.”

Notice, she pays attention to her surroundings and makes choices based on her condition in service of her needs. She needs to get out quickly, but would run into more trouble stealing a car so she calls up a cab driven by a human. Human’s are easier to manipulate in short order than code cracking. She specifically aims for a female cab driver, one preferably older than she is.

Why?

She’s female. Another woman is more likely to assume her injuries are because of a man, and a cab driver will have encountered this scenario often enough to not pry too deeply into it. An older woman is likelier to be maternal and protective, but not so protective that she’ll stay beyond when Thirteen needs her too. However, pay attention to the fact that Thirteen never verbally confirms it was a man who caused her injuries. She lets Marla assume, and fill in the blanks herself. This gives her an out later if she needs to change her story and place the blame on Marla’s shoulders for misunderstanding.

This is an example of what’s called social engineering. Deliberately manipulating the people in your environment to divulge confidential information or getting them to do what you want.

Notice also: After getting into the vehicle, Thirteen’s hand goes to the gun she stole. As she is playing to Marla’s sympathies, she is also assessing the possibility of killing this woman and taking control of the car if things don’t go the way she’s planned. Thirteen would prefer to exit by the easiest means possible, but a good spy always has a contingency. She won’t compromise her safety, and civilian lives mean next to nothing. A dead body is one more problem to deal with, one more attention getter that she doesn’t want, but she’ll go there. Violence is messy, and sometimes necessary.

There’s no real difference between a spy and a conman. Still, if you want to trick people there’s a few rules to follow.

What a spy isn’t:

A compulsive liar, an overseller, or lies all the time. An undercover operative needs to maintain their identity, that is one identity, singular. While a spy can create many false personalities, they should only be using one at a time with the goal of giving away as little information in trade as possible.

Notice: Thirteen does not tell Marla a story, she lets Marla create the story and then plays along. It is easier to convince someone of a lie when they’ll craft it themselves. Why say something when you can get just as much by saying nothing at all?

“You’ve told her three lies. Suppose she’s an asset, now you have to make all three lies true.” - Spy Game

Your character can’t just lie, a liar will be caught after a prolonged period of time. They need to manipulate the truth by creating a fiction. A cover is a fictional person with a fictional job who people think really exists when they check the character’s identity. Assume their identity will be checked, re-checked, and checked again. They are not maintaining a cover to a singular individual, but multiple ones. Their assets are the locals they are manipulating in order gain access to information, and who often run the jobs for them. These assets will, most of the time, not know the truth or not know the whole truth about who the spy really is.

Assets can be friends, business associates, girlfriends/boyfriends, wives/husbands, disgruntled employees, janitors, etc.

Your character can’t enter a business or government agency as a pretend janitor if they’re also going there everyday as a reporter or contractor or some other job. They must maintain the fiction of their identity.

This is the biggest problem most authors will get into when writing spy fiction. The concept of telling lies is something that comes easily to most of us, the problem comes in with keeping up a fiction over a prolonged period of time. The next step is to be able to lie without guilt and throw over people who help you without remorse. Crafting that dual identity of a person who genuinely cares about their friends and allies versus the real one who… really doesn’t.

You need a solid grasp of social functions, mores, and conventions in order to write a spy because a spy is manipulating all those points to gain access. You also need to understand these rules change based on what society your character is entering. Social rules change based on social groups, be it economic or cultural. The expectations for a man or woman in Mexico City versus Seattle are vast, and your character needs to be versed in the world they’re walking into. They need a cover identity to suit their work. Someone who has the freedom to go many places without being questioned, but unimportant enough to be neither needed nor remembered.

A spy is always looking for a way in, to slide into your confidences or sympathies however they can. They are going to use you to get where they need to go. They are very convincing actors and they are changing, modifying themselves slightly for each person they encounter. Not so much though that their falseness becomes obvious to the other people who know them.

When we’re working with a female spy, for example, all the “bad woman” societal traits you’re inclined to throw away are exactly what she needs to succeed. She will flirt, and flatter, and seduce, and manipulate the men (and women) around her to gain entry. She may rotate between being a gorgeous woman and an unremarkable one by the use of fashion and makeup. She is exactly what so many men are afraid of, a social climber who is manipulating their feelings and her attractiveness in order to get what she wants because it is the most expedient method to get what she needs. The one who is manipulating society’s view of women as nonentities, nonthreatening/replaceable objects in order to do her job.

Don’t be afraid of these characters. Don’t be afraid of “unlikeable” characters.

Spies are bad people who do bad things. They are often cold, calculating, impersonal manipulators looking for the most expedient method to get what they need. Your spy’s cover is just a cover. Never forget the real person underneath, especially when they’re lying to themselves.

-Michi

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“Carnations” (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

many thanks to the effervescent @buckyywiththegoodhair for beta-reading! i love you, you colorful tropical fish with scales made of diamonds! x

“Carnations” (Masterlist)

“(Y/N), if you really don’t want to help, you can leave. It’s okay.”

You snap out of your involuntary trance, meeting the peeved eyes of the tall figure in front of you. Your eyelids rapidly close and open before you blankly mutter, “Huh?”

“Since we started setting up, you’ve sighed thirteen times, loudly scuffed your shoe against the floor seven times, and spaced out four times. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you don’t want to do this.”

It takes a lot to annoy actual angel Steve Rogers, but somehow you’ve accomplished just that in only five minutes. Sheepish guilt washes over you, and you quickly insist, “I’m so sorry. But I swear I want to help!”

“Are you sure? You look a little preoccupied, and I can also do this myself if something’s –“

“No, no, I want to help. I promise,” you firmly repeat. You furiously tape the banner to the table’s edges as if to show how determined you are to help. “I didn’t mean to be a drama queen and space out.” 

Steve tiredly rubs his palm against his face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. The concern in his voice makes the guilt expand in your lungs, compelling you to cast your eyes downwards.

When faced with a small deficit in the Student Government budget, Steve came up with the carnation sale. Students could order flowers –red for love, pink for friendship, and white for secret admiration– and cabinet members would deliver them to the recipients’ respective dorms.

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I got an ask a while back asking my opinion on if all lesbians could use “dyke” or if it was specific to butches and I didn’t answer because it didn’t seem on topic at the time but here we go

The only people who have ever told me not to call myself a dyke have been non-lesbians who took offense because they thought I was insulting myself, saying “oh honey! don’t say that! you are not that kind of lesbian”. It had nothing to do with protecting a butch word and everything to do with trying to separate me (someone they consider a friend, loved-one, a certified Good Lesbian) from the bad rap of butches.

And I think we all know who the primary target of “dyke” is and who has the most stake in it. Which is why the Chicago Dyke March trying to distance the word so desperately from butch lesbians (I mean, not just distancing, but condemning butches as the wrong way to be dykes) is such a mind-boggling level of bullshit. 

When I call myself a dyke what I am saying that you don’t get to separate me from your perception of what a “bad lesbian” is. You don’t get to categorize me as something softer and more appealing, you don’t get to pit me against my community and the women I love. The power of dyke exists because of its connection to butch lesbians. Trying to strip butches from the equation just strips it of its meaning

Cosplay, Fanart and Plagiarism

(gif curtesy to Mel)


TL;DR: An artist traced (!) my cosplay photo without permission, gave me zero credits, sold the prints at a con and denied she’s ever seen my photo.

First, both of us, the cosplayer and the photographer, want to say that it would never have come to this if the artist would have immediately apologized to us in person, instead of being extremely rude to us and letting things escalate. A simple sorry and taking down the prints would’ve sufficed.

In the beginning of January, being hyped with the new SU episodes, I immediately fell in love with Blue Diamond and cosplayed her. Two months ago, a friend let me know that an artist she saw drew a fanart based on my photo. I was extremely flattered and happy, but also kinda sad the artist gave me zero credits. Us cosplayers and photographers work really hard to get a nice result, and everyone is happy when their photo serves as an inspiration for another artwork. I wrote a letter to her stating that I love her art, but I’d like her to credit me as a source of inspiration (adding the screen shot).

For two months, there was silence. I tried it again a few weeks ago, but again, no response. Okay, what can you do…



Last weekend we had a big con in Germany with a huge artist alley and both of us, the photographer and the cosplayer, attended. Suddenly, a friend came to us and said that there’s a girl selling this exact drawing. We were puzzled and decided to go to her booth and look at it ourselves.

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What your favorite YGO series says about you
  • DM: Either you've only watched this series or Atem and Yugi are your babes. Seto Kaiba is NOT a meme. You're most likely confused by many of the new dueling mechanics.
  • GX: Just like Judai you were a happy child but now you're bitter and/or done with everything. You most likely hate yaoi fan girls with a passion. Greatly appreciates the Ojamas.
  • 5ds: You probably have a dragon kink. You have an entire plan made out if the apocalypse happens. Jack Atlas IS a meme.
  • Zexal: 85% chance that you're gay. You would fight the moon given the chance. Will protect Astral with your life.
  • Arc-V: A slut for angst with happy ending. You were fine with how the series ended. Can relate to Yuri's faces.
  • Vrains: Nothing is real. Is a slut for secret identities. Liked the initial start of Sword Art Online but got quickly disappointed.