just needed to get this off my system

  • polynesians: have oral history that references a faraway land of andes-like mountains in the east, cultivated sweet potato (a plant native to central america, not the pacific), literally call sweet potato by the same word used by the quechua and aymara people indigenous to the andes, left physical remains on islands a few km off the coast of chile, have genetic links with native south americans
  • white academics: hmmm it's very doubtful polynesians contacted south america.. they probably just stopped permanently at easter island for some reason after systematically navigating the entire south pacific. the sweet potatos floated to them across the ocean

anonymous asked:

Something something VOLTRON

that’s what i’m here for buddy

  • keith is… probably not the guy you want to go to for a pep talk
    • lance: “i just feel confused, and sort of sad, and- are you trying to climb out the window” keith, trying to climb out the window: “…no”
    • listen!!! feelings are hard!!!!!!
  • [pidge takes off matt’s glasses] “oh my god i almost forgot what it’s like to not have a headache”
  • shiro is the most photogenic paladin and lance’s goal in life is to take a bad picture of him
  • lowkey the bom can’t take keith seriously lmao. he’s just so tiny?? the size of a galra child?? who let this infant fly a giant robot
  • lance’s current mission: steal the red lion slippers
  • *coran voice* “what’s an ‘inch’? why do you need twelve to get a ‘foot’? what do those measurements even mean? who designed this system i’d like to have a word with-”
    • lance’s cuban ass: “god mood”
  • allura: “don’t worry hunk! everyone’s afraid of something!” hunk: “even you allura?” allura: “no”

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

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Hey!!!!!

This should be like our Last donation post EVER if things go right! Please read and rb

my girlfriend and I are two trans and gay people trying to move out of abusive homes. I am disabled and working a job that pays 8.25 an hour that is making my chronic pain worse as well as caus8ng some New issues for me. Tia is working wtna brand new job as TESLA which is going to pay really well and hopefully keep us afloat as my disability information is processing Basically we are right around the corner from being well off.

The issue? Because Tia is so new with her job, she took an extra week to be put into the payroll system, and now our move in date falls just THREE DAYS earlier than her first paycheck. I will be paid $180 this week and she is getting $60 from some work she is doing for her family. The 60 unfortunstely needs to go right into groceries and gas this week so we don’t starge and can get to work. That leaves us with $180 and our rent, which is currently $280. we only need $100 to be on our way to being independant from abusive transphobic homes!

This is the absolute LAST time that we will be needing money from peoples donations. I havent been incredibly successful here but it has kept us able to est the last few months so I am asking that if you are able to PLEASE drop us a few bucks this week! I do art commissions as well http://clowngaud.tumblr.com/post/156511949465/updated-commission-info-im-a-disabled-mentally

paypal: enbyclown@gmail.com
cash.me/bloomington

i hate that fanfic that’s clearly written by a gay fan for gay fans hardly gets any attention. like gay fans can TELL when something is written by someone who’s lgbtq+ and when it’s written by a straight person. and it’s a tragedy that those fics that don’t feature that much sex (and even then it’s written correctly and not in a fetishistic way) and focuses on the characters as flawed human beings where the relationship isn’t 100% stable all the time, where it is has its issues because the characters probably don’t know HOW to be in a relationship with someone of the opposite gender and might even struggle with their own internalized homophobia, those fics don’t get any attention outside of what it can attract from gay fans. and if it’s a fic for a rarepair then you’re fucked. these fics usually end up languishing at the bottom of ao3 until the writer never wants to write anything again, even if their characterization and story is perfect.

you know what’s at the top of ao3? porn fic written by straight women. it could be horrendously out of character or even badly written and yet as long as other straight women can get off to it then it shoots right to the top of the pairing tag. they might not even care about the character’s relationships or their happiness - especially true with slash fanfic where the female love interest gets completely erased despite having a vital friendship with one or both of the characters.

honestly you guys need to stop sleeping on fic written by gay fans just because it doesn’t cater to your urge to fetishize (usually white) gay men.

part 6 is LONG and i have never written anything this angsty but i saw spiderman again today and that scene™ made me so emotional that this was the result! i hope you enjoy xx

if you’ve never read this series, you can find part 1 here, and if you missed part 5, you can find it here!

  • now that peter and michelle are dating, ned isn’t the only chair guy around
  • michelle has taken to helping both ned and peter with spidey duties
  • she even convinced may to let them use the linen closet in the living room as a “headquarters” for them, as long as they close the door when guests are around and go along with the idea that “peter accidentally sealed it shut as a kid” 
  • peter doesn’t know how she did it, she and ned found old computer pieces lying around in dumpsters and somehow made in that linen closet, 3 computer monitors, 2 keyboards, 2 headsets, and more. 
  • it even impressed tony stark when he came to check in on peter and may
  • and oh boy did may yell at him
  • but then tony mentioned his connections with MIT and well, peter brings brownies to tony and pepper quite often now
  • one day while May is at work, Peter and MJ are watching a history documentary. 
  • MJ is lying across Peter’s lap and is so focused on the untold stories of ancient civilization when the linen closet beeps
  • and suddenly Peter’s burrito is flying and MJ jumps over the couch and opens the closet and starts typing away
  • “w-what? the burrito!” peter starts to protest but MJ waves him off. 
  • “we got a hostage situation near the high school,” she pulls a chair up. she managed to hack into police coms a few weeks ago, and even Ned was impressed on that one.
  • “how many?” peter now hops over the couch and leans over behind her, resting his chin on her head.
  • “not a lot…about eight according to the police coms. i can’t tell what building it is, the map isn’t clear-” she opens her palm and peter knows to drop his phone in her hand, and suddenly ned is on the line
  • “MJ…why don’t you just call me from your phone? you have my number?-”
  • “shut it loser. we got a hostage situation near school and i need my chair partner.” 
  • “be there in 10″ and ned hangs up and MJ tosses the phone up to Peter, who catches it no problem
  • “karen, run facial recognition,” peter says, and MJ looks confused. 
  • “who the hell is-” she starts but is cut off when the third screen lights up with a criminal database.
  • “i hacked karen into the system when you went to get the burritos,” he mumbles into her hair. “she’s an AI tony had made.” 
  • michelle nods and then peter is laughing into her hair. “what parker?” she goes to shrug him off, but peter spins her chair around to face him
  • “you were jealous,” he’s smug.
  • “was not-” she goes to turn around but peter raises his eyebrows. “i don’t get jealous.”
  • “mhmm,” peter says before kissing her quickly and MJ rolls her eyes. again, a term of endearment. 
  • “suit up spidey boy,” she turns back to the screens, and ignores peter’s, “but i’m spiderman!” in the background 
  • it takes ned less than 10 minutes to burst through the door with his backpack 
  • “a hostage situation! we haven’t had that in a while!” 
  • “wow ned, so respectful of the situation,” she says as ned pulls up a chair next to him. 
  • “peter already out?” he asks, and she nods. 
  • though she’ll never admit it to them, the real reason she forced ned and peter to let her help was because after the building incident, she couldn’t stand the thought of peter being out there alone. and even if he’d never let her out there with him physically, at least she was doing what she could
  • ned pulls up a map with peter’s suit tracker and puts on a headset. “obi to anakin, you copy?”
  • “why am i anakin? i’m not going down a dark path-” peter’s voice comes through the headset, and michelle breathes out a sigh of relief. 
  • ned ignores him. “you’re getting close. police have the area surrounded, but i can’t get access to a camera inside the building.” 
  • “it looks like a general retail store,” mj says from her headset. ned is giving more details to peter when mj yells, “i got a camera! sending it over now,” and just like that peter is able to see what ned and michelle are seeing
  • “oh shit,” ned mutters. 
  • there’s at least ten masked men and just as mj predicted, eight hostages. the men look heavily armed, and definitely are not amateurs. 
  • “don’t go in peter,” mj warns. “sit this one out.”
  • “are you kidding me? if i don’t do something, those guys will kill everyone!” peter yells back, and according to the tracker, he’s on the roof of the building now. 
  • “you can’t take on ten guys at once by yourself!” mj raises her voice too, and ned slowly backs his chair away. if peter and mj are gonna fight over this, he should probably stay out of it 
  • “whatever. ned, give me a way in.” peter snaps, but mj shoots her hand to ned’s chair before he can scoot back in.
  • “no way,” mj narrows her eyes at the screen. “ned, don’t,”
  • “i’m doing this with or without your help, MJ.” peter’s tracker moves down the side of one of the buildings. 
  • “it’s too dangerous!” 
  • “get me a way in, or the stay the hell out of it!” peter says, and mj yanks her headset off and walks into the bathroom.
  • it’s silent for a moment, before ned thinks it’s safe enough to speak. 
  • “you can get in through the side door,” he says, and peter does. 
  • the fight is going well so far. peter has 3 of the men webbed up and 2 of them ran away in fear. ned is keeping him updated on the other 5 as police rush out the hostages
  • “on your left!” ned shouts, and peter nearly gets shot as he shoots out a web grenade.
  • “taser web!” he yells at two guys coming from the back, and ned hollers. 
  • “in the corner!” and peter webs him up. 
  • suddenly one of the guys comes out from behind the aisle and ned yells to peter, but the guy is faster. 
  • and peter is shot in the chest
  • “pull up his vitals!” mj screams, suddenly back in the chair. her eyes are bloodshot and she’s obviously been crying, but ned doesn’t have time to ask. 
  • “peter?” he calls into the headset. no response. “peter!”
  • “ned, where are his vitals?” mj is scrambling to find the location of the nearest hospital. 
  • “they aren’t good,” ned mutters. 
  • “keep him talking,” mj starts typing in coordinates into the computer. there’s a protocol set up, the “lost baby” protocol (tony’s name, not theirs)
  • basically, if peter gets in a situation, mj can trigger an alert to the avengers facility upstate by typing in coordinates. 
  • “he’s not responding!” ned yells. 
  • “okay,” she takes a deep breath. “okay it’s going to be fine. tony is on his way, it’s fine-”
  • and then the alarm goes off, signaling peter’s heart has stopped. 
  • happy arrives at the apartment twenty minutes later to drive the two of them to the hospital, and they pick may up from work on the way
  • luckily, he was in the area at the time
  • ned has his laptop, replaying the footage of the fight over and over again, doing his best to use karen’s facial recognition to identify these guys
  • and may is on the phone with pepper in the passenger seat, crying because thank god he’s alive but also scared because the bullet made his suit malfunction, which is why the alarm said his heart stopped
  • luckily, it never did
  • mj is leaning her head on the window, her headphones in, and all she can think about was how none of this would’ve happened if two people were watching the camera
  • tony and sam got to peter in less than 2 minutes and flew peter to a quinjet a few miles from the city where bruce was waiting with a stretcher, an iv, and everything needed to keep peter stable
  • by the time may, mj, and ned had reached the avengers facility, peter was already in surgery
  • “holy…” ned mutters, taking in the surroundings of the facility but may is walking quickly to pepper and maria hill who take the 3 of them down a long hallway. 
  • the wait feels like months. may has disappeared to talk with tony and ned is off giving the footage of the fight to maria and natasha, and mj is by herself in the hallway
  • she texted her parents to say she was sleeping over at betty’s, but that’s it. 
  • “michelle?” she looks up to see steve rogers standing over her. 
  • “uh…yeah?” she scoots over on the bench, and steve sits. 
  • “i’m Steve, peter has told us a lot about you.”
  • “oh god,” she shakes her head, laughing slightly. Her face turns serious, “how is he?”
  • steve pauses, “from what Bruce said, he’s going to be fine. the bullet didn’t hit anything major, but it was tricky to get it out. he’s sleeping right now, may and ned were heading to sit with him.”
  • mj nods, fiddling with her sweater. she’s not one to cry in public, and she’s not one to express her emotions either. even with peter, she still teases him and calls him a loser and rolls her eyes at him, but he knows she means well. 
  • “he really cares about you,” steve says softly. 
  • “we…we got in a fight,” she lowers her head. right before he went in the store, and I left the computers because I couldn’t take it. he was on my last nerves and I left and then he got shot because I wasn’t watching the screens and-” 
  • “it’s not your fault,” steve says reassuringly. “tony showed us the footage, there was no way you or ned or peter could’ve seen that guy coming.” 
  • michelle just shrugs, and steve sits with her until may comes out. 
  • “he wants to see you,” she smiles, holding out her hand. 
  • she looks over at steve, who gestures as if to say ‘go on’, and she reaches up and takes may’s hand. 
  • peter’s room is small with bare white walls and a tv in the corner playing an episode of the clone wars. mj walks in and may tells ned to come with her to get food, and that’s when she finally lets herself look at peter.
  • the dork is smiling. actually smiling after all of this and mj wants to yell at him, but instead she settles for going on the side where peter isn’t hurt and sits on his bed and puts her head on his chest
  • “hey darling,” peter says and michelle looks up at him. “thought i’d try a nickname out, thoughts?” he smiles, and mj puts her head back on his chest
  • “i’ll take the lack of response as a yes.”
  • “this is my fault.” 
  • “what?” peter says and she stands up, wiping the tears from her eyes and she starts pacing frantically. “what are you talking about?”
  • “this,” she gestures to the heart monitor. “is because of me. because i bailed because i got mad at you and i wasn’t watching the screen-”
  • “babe,” peter cuts her off. “this is because i didn’t listen to you. tony told me how fast you got those coordinates out to him, you did it in under 10 seconds.” 
  • “i was stressed,” she narrows her eyes. 
  • “you saved me.”
  • “it said your heart stopped.”
  • “but it didn’t”
  • “but it said-”
  • “it didn’t.”
  •  “but-”
  • “please don’t blame yourself. i know you’re doing it because you’re scared, but i promise you i’m okay. i made you that promise didn’t i?”
  • “that stupid promise,” she mutters, taking peter’s hand and letting him pull her back to lay on his chest, away from the bullet of course
  • “i was so…scared,” she whispers. 
  • “me too,” he whispers back.
  • and that’s how ned and may find them, michelle asleep on his chest, and peter’s good arm wrapped around her, his face nuzzled in her hair. 
Not A Lady: Part 5 (Loki x Reader)

Sorry that it has taken so long to put this part up, hopefully it’s worth it! Please note before you read it gets a bit smutty ;) Let me know if you want to be tagged in this or anything else and tell me what you think! I like hearing what you guys have to say

Words: 3310

You can find the other chapters here: Loki Masterlist


               “Everyone’s out on Friday,” Tony said across the table, his focus mainly on the computer screens in front of him. He briefly looked up at you and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I’m sorry but you’ll just have to miss it.”

               "But she’s only here for one night and then she’s flying out to Australia. This is the first time I’ve been even close to seeing her. Surely Loki can be left alone for one evening?“ You stopped pacing and leant on the back of the chair opposite him. "Please?”

He took a sip of his coffee and groaned. “He can’t be left alone unsupervised, Y/N. As difficult as it may be for you to remember, he is supposed to be a prisoner here. Any other day we’d help you but as I’ve already told you everyone is out on missions that night.”

               "I’ve not left the Tower in over a week, Tony. It’s been months since I had anything close to my own life,“ you groaned. Whilst spending your time with Loki was no longer a hardship for you, you really were starting to go mad being cooped up here. "I need to get out before I start making my own entertainment and messing with all your systems.”

               "My systems are untouchable.“

Keep reading

Loosely based on a true story

[FYI, I posted this on Patreon and on Reddit, so if you’ve seen it there this is nothing new. If you haven’t seen this yet, get ready ;)]

I had been living in my sorority house for three days when I met Anna. She was tall, with red hair, freckles and an athletic build. She was friendly to me right away, inviting me to go out to dinner with her. She had a musical laugh and a sense of humor like mine. I could tell we were going to be fast friends.

We pulled into the parking lot at a buffet that served foods from all over the world. I reminded myself not to get too carried away; I didn’t need to walk out of here looking nine months pregnant and freak out my new friend.

We set our stuff down at a table and split up. When Anna sat down, she had a plate in each hand. And they were piled high, too. She saw my eyes widen and said, “What? I gotta fill up this tummy somehow!”

I let out a nervous laugh, self-conscious that she would somehow know how turned on I was by the idea of seeing that beautiful, fit girl with a beach ball stomach.

We talked about our favorite Omega Chi boys and the impending rush season. Before we knew it, we each had downed four plates of food.

“Ugh! I am so freaking stuffed. I’m going to look preggo!” Anna unbuttoned her pants and slid down in the booth.

I decide to push my luck. “Bet you can’t eat another plate…”

“Oh, you’re on!”

We each struggle to stand up around our stuffed bellies. I lead her to the Italian area. The employees stare at us while we each pile up a plate as high as we can with pasta.

We race to finish the pasta. I, a seasoned professional at belly stuffing, beat Anna, but just barely. She can really hold her own. When she finished the plate, she leans back and groans, a hand on each side of her round stomach. I see a sliver of skin and thank God for tight tank tops.

“Ready to go, fatty?” I ask her, and she just laughs. She stands up and I watch her walk out of the restaurant, barely trying to cover her belly that’s poking out, bouncing a little with each step.

That night my stomach had settled, but you could still notice that it’s a little rounder than it was when I woke up in the morning. I head to my room, bringing a big glass of water with me. I stop to chat with my sisters about the importance of hydrating. It’s good for your skin, after all.

I shut my door and get under the covers. I chug the entire glass in under a minute. After watching Anna at that buffet today, I need to stretch my stomach as far as it will go. I think about Anna, growing bigger and bigger, looking like a water balloon. I fall asleep after getting myself off.

“Olivia. OLIVIA.” I feel someone shaking my shoulder. It’s Anna, trying to wake me up without stirring anyone in the rooms next door.

“Oh my God.” I jump. As soon as I realize what is happening, I grab my covers to try to disguise my swollen stomach.

“Sorry. Did I scare you? It’s just that I’m still hungry. I need someone to come get snacks with me. The buddy system, after all. Gotta stay safe on campus!”

“Good Lord, Anna! Heard of knocking?”

“Oh, get over it, you live in the House now. We’re sisters. Now get your ass up, I need pizza!”

I pull myself out of bed and hop in her car.

“You’re just lucky there’s even a place open at this time of night!”

“I’m very aware of the hours of the local restaurants. How do you think I survived the dorms?” Anna smiles mischievously.

We get back to the house and take our pizza to the basement.

“Anna, there’s no way you can eat a large pizza by yourself.” She got one for each of us.

“You don’t know my stomach!” She settles onto the couch and lays a box on her lap.

She demolishes her pizza. She has already unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. She starts to roll her tank top up to her boobs. “Hope you don’t mind, I gotta make room.”

“Anna, this is incredible.” I struggle to keep the arousal out of my voice.

She grabs what’s left of my pizza box (most of it) and starts in on that. At this point we have stopped talking. She is concentrating and I am mesmerized.

She finished off my piece and lays the box on the ground. She sits there for a moment, silent. She’s focusing on her stomach, working to digest nearly two large pizzas. Her hands cradle the bottom of her bulging belly.

“Anna, you look like you’re nine months pregnant.”

She doesn’t reply, she just moans softly.

I decide to do something risky. I slowly reach over and set my hand on the soft skin stretched over her stuffed tummy.

“Please rub my belly, Olivia. It hurts.”

My pussy is soaking wet. I don’t know how I am going to hide my complete adoration of her swollen stomach. But I can’t resist, and she clearly wants me to help…

I rub her stomach. “Ooohhhhh… That feels so good, Olivia…” she whispers.

I scoot closer and grip her belly with both hands. It starts to gurgle and I can feel her stomach under my hands, working to digest her feast. I hesitate.

“Please, Olivia, don’t stop rubbing. I feel like I am going to burst.”

I help her lay down on the couch. I sit on the floor beside her and keep rubbing. She keeps moaning and I notice that her hands have settled inside of her underwear… I decide to take a chance. I lean over and kiss her taut stomach. She gasps.

“I’m so sorry Anna. That was really weird… I’m going to go.”

“Wait! Come back. Do it again.”

“What?”

“Olivia. I can see how much my antics at dinner had you worked up. I’ve seen you stroking your bloated stomach after a keg stand, which was adorable, by the way. No one else would have noticed that stuff… I did though.”

“So you’re saying that you did this on purpose?”

“You took the bait, didn’t you?”

I crawl up on the couch and get on top of Anna. Her belly is sticking up so far that it brushes against mine. Her fingertips gently caress the underside of my belly - which is pretty stuffed, although not as swollen as hers. I lean down and kiss her stomach again, dipping my tongue into her belly button. She gasps and her hips buck. So this is the real deal. She’s into this too.

Her shorts are already half off, considering how far she had to unzip them to accommodate her protruding stomach. I lean on my side next to her, kissing and nibbling her belly while sliding a hand into her panties. She is soaking wet.

“Geez, Anna. Someone really likes having their belly stuffed full.”

“There’s so much pressure inside of me… I feel so round…”

“You are absolutely huge. You look like you swallowed a basketball.”

I keep circling her clit and talking dirty to her. She comes and I have to cover her mouth with my free hand so we don’t wake anyone up.

“Geez, Anna, shut the hell up! Someone’s going to hear us!”

She tries to catch her breath. She smirks at me. “You’re next,” she pants.

We decided it’d probably be best for us to be roommates. It was quite a year.

Entanglement: Part 3

Entanglement: Part 3

Word count: 8.7k

Genre/Warnings: polyamory, angst, dirty talk, Dom! Jin, Sub! Namjoon

Pairing: Jin x Reader x Namjoon

Summary: You and Namjoon go on a business trip with Jin and you finally get to meet his family.

(sorry for mistakes, i’ve had kind of a shitty day. Enjoy :) )

Parts: onetwo


You were more than ready for tomorrow. Once you left work you were on a plane to Jin’s hometown. You are more than excited but also couldn’t be more nervous. You didn’t know which one balanced the other out. On one hand you got to see Jin’s family which you were very curious about but you were also very scared to meet them because you knew they would instantly judge you.

Keep reading

Used to This - Part IV

Overview: You’ve lived with the Winchesters for years as a fellow hunter, and everyone has always stayed well in the friend zone. What happens when nightmares come haunting and Dean offers to help? Will things change, or is it all in your head?

Characters: Dean, Reader, a smidgen of Sam

Word Count: 1,638

Warnings: injury with lots of blood, mild language, some snark, some fluff, some questioning of coffee stipulations

A/N: There should only be one more part to go… But my brain sometimes scraps those plans. Thanks for all the love you guys have shown me for this :)

Beta’d by: @wheresthekillswitch - “I freaking love all of this fic but especially this part.” <– you guys should guess which section she meant

Also beta’d by: @hannahindie - “the patented ‘voice raises three octaves when a Winchester drops trou three feet away from you’.”

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

“Dean, let me carry her so you can-”

“I’ve got her, Sam.”

“Look, you should-”

“I said I’ve got her.”


“How is she?”

“Just keep driving.”

“She’s losing a lot of blood. Why aren’t we going to the hospital, Dean?”

“Because if she lives through this she’ll kill me for taking her there.”

“I care about her, too. She’s family. Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sam, just drive.”


“Don’t you dare leave me. You hear me, Y/N? Don’t you dare. Sam would never let me hear the end of it. And you still owe me ten dollars from that bet in Wyoming. So… just keep breathing, okay? You’re still here. I’ve got you.”


I woke up screaming, my hands flying up to tear away the blinding pain and sharp jabs from the base of my skull. Strong hands grabbed my wrists, pulled them to my front and trapped them within a single hand’s grasp while the other pushed my hips down firmly to fight against my thrashing. Another set of hands were on the side of my neck, my left temple, efficiently keeping my head still. I felt trapped, felt the tears spill over as I tried to move away again.

“Y/N! It’s Dean. It’s just me and Sam. Hey, look at me.”

My eyes were swollen and heavy as I opened them, squinting in the too bright light and aimlessly flickering as they searched for something to focus on. I found a dark red stain on the fabric in front of me and stared at it until its edges lost their fuzziness. I was lying on my side, on a bed, and as more and more red spots came into focus I realized what they were. That’s my blood. That’s a lot of my blood.

Keep reading

4

I kind of felt like it was weird that none of them noticed Dipper was… not… Dipper… but then my brain joined up the dots with this

so I’m head-canoning this missing scene and you can’t stop me

This Evergreen Love

(x)

Summary: Enjoy World’s Best Dad? Check out the story from Dean’s perspective in this very special fic…

This Evergreen Love Masterlist

Pairing: single parent!Dean x kindergarten teacher!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, self-depreciating Dean

A/N: Written from Dean’s POV…


Keep reading

3


I really just have to stop XD I start with just one little thing and it blows up into something HUGE the next second. But my god I can’t help it, these two are just TOO CUTE!

And I know people are gonna call this weird since Ozpin is thrown in here, but ozpin and ruby were my FIRST SHIP starting off in the fandom. I just need to get it out of my system and I’ll be done I swear. Plus, its just fun to mess with this boy having Ozpin around anyway. Almost too easy. But yea

I hope you all like! 8D

Originally posted by dwellsliveblogs

Title: Thanks for Being Here

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: It’s short and sweet. I believe one of the requests was for a previous game, but I didn’t get to it in a timely manner and I wanted to make sure I got this one out before too much time had passed. I also posted a Jordie Benn imagine tonight. Max Domi is up tomorrow, and it might be my favorite imagine yet…

Links: My Master List  and My Current Requests


Your eyes instinctively fell closed, your heart sinking into your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, skimming the sea of disappointed fans all around you; finally settling on Auston. Standing by the bench, his hands were resting on the top of his stick, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as the Capitals celebrated at the other end of the ice.

You had managed to make it to all of his home games during the playoffs; carefully planning your schedule and reworking your obligations back home, making the 5-hour drive from Michigan each game. The two of you had met when he was playing with the National Development Team and both of you worked hard to maintain your relationship over the past few years, despite the distance. For all the doubt there had been surrounding the Leafs at the beginning of the season, you couldn’t be happier for Auston and how far the Leafs had come, but it was still disappointing to see the boys lose.

You heard Ema sigh as her arm wrapped around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze; the two of you sporting matching frowns. Your eyes followed Auston as he made his way through the handshake line, then to center ice as the team saluted the crowd, his shoulders slumped. You and Auston’s family headed to the lower level of the arena to wait for him. Your phone buzzed moments later, slipping it out of your pocket you saw a text from Auston.

Keep reading

im tired of everyone screaming lapis is abusive to peri, like, have you watched the damn episode? Lapis is emotionally distraught, almost everyone in the show is rn, tensions are high and Lapis clearly can’t make good decisions while under pressure, especially with everything in her being telling her to get the fuck off earth.

Relationships aren’t all happy and fluffy all the time, people get hurt, they take things differently, they get misunderstood. But you work through it, even if it takes awhile. Lapis didn’t intentionally hurt Peridot, not like she did with Jasper, she doesn’t treat peri like how some of y’all say she does. She’s selfish, she’s flawed. Character’s aren’t one-dimensional and fuck stuff up, this isn’t new.

Peridot isn’t afraid of Lapis; she sees how emotionally conflicted she is. She wants to help, and went too far with always putting Lapis in front of herself. They need to talk it out, Lapis wasn’t okay with Peridot repressing her thoughts and emotions in the last moments before she left. It was ill-timed, Lapis felt she had no choice but to run. 

Sometimes people fuck up, sometimes they make ill-thought out decisions that hurt people they love. If they’re willing to make amends, to apologize and communicate with the people they’ve hurt, that shows they care. It doesn’t make them inherently bad or cruel. 

hhhhh

Mission Gone Wrong

Originally posted by despairingfever

Summary: After returning from a particularly difficult mission, you don’t want anything to do with anybody. Guilt is eating away at you and you’re finally forced to open up to your friend, Cassian.

Author’s Note: This has been stuck in my head for what feels like forever! It is my first Star Wars fic, so I hope it’s okay. I just love Cassian so much and I loved writing him. I’ve had a lot going on in my life, and I think this piece is really a reflection of that. It is angsty as all get out, so beware. Please let me know what you think!!! Enjoy :)

Warnings: Language; ANGST; seriously, this whole thing is like one big angst fest; smidge of fluff; mentions of murder

*******************************************************************************************

The mission had gone horribly wrong.

Not wanting (or maybe not able) to face anybody, I trudged back to my quarters without so much as a ‘hello’ to anyone after arriving back at the Yavin 4 base. As if on autopilot, I shed my dirty clothes, covered in dirt and grime and blood, and headed for the shower, washing up before following my nightly routine and crawling into bed. Sleep didn’t come.

That’s how it was for three days.

Keep reading

Blattella Germanica

Summary:  A quick fix it fic set in a nebulous future after 6.15 where Emma and Killian have been reunited. A way to reconcile the events of those episodes in a way that doesn’t retread old ground and helps better explain behavior. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1600+

Notes:  A belated gift for @gentlesleaze  hopefully this helps make up for some of the salt you received instead. I’m sure I’ll write you something better one day but I hope you like this blurb. 

On AO3

___________


There was something to be said for reunion sex. Explosive tangles of lips and teeth and limbs. Aggressive clawing and slapping flesh, just all consuming need, I miss you, I love you, I’m so happy you’re back. Saying with her body what she couldn’t put into words, I’m sorry spoken in the rough tug of his hair, forgive me painted in teeth along his neck, I’m with you in the rough slide and rasp of skin on skin.

Afterwards was harder. Sweat drying and breath calming and the words wouldn’t come. Goodnight whispered into her hair, slow measured breaths as he gave into exhaustion. Her ring winking mockingly in the light of the moon through the window.

“I love you.”

Keep reading

I decided that I needed to see what was going on with the whole Gil romance, not just rely on word-of-mouth. So now I have words and need to get said words out of my system before I can think of going to bed.

It wasn’t as bad as I feared, though if you want to read that as damning with faint praise, you’re not wholly wrong.

I just… You know, yeah, sure, gays having kids and a family, sure, there’s a thumb to heteronormativity there. BUT, and this is the big thing, starting this family isn’t Gil’s idea. Jill springs it on him. This is HER idea. He makes an off-handed remark about how ‘making babies’ is a thing, but we don’t really hear him talking about this being a want of his - he says himself, he’s a ‘live in the moment’ kind of person. He doesn’t plan for the future that much.

Any thumb to heteronormativity is negated by the fact that this isn’t something that Gil necessarily wants, that he is not the one who goes ‘I’d like to have a kid, Jill, if you’re willing, would you be the mother of my kid?’ He’ll come around to the idea, sure, but it’s not his to start with. It’s Jill saying ‘hey best friend I tease about making my job as a reproductive tech harder, wanna be the father of my babies?’ And that’s actually a red flag when it comes to becoming a parent. One of Ryder’s VERY. VALID. points is that this isn’t the kind of decision you can undo or casually walk away from. This is more than a decision. It’s a commitment. One that you can’t back out of - once a child is conceived, with the intent of carrying it through to term, you are bound to that child.

And the simple fact is there are more than a few gay people and couples out there who are content with not having a family. Like we recognize early on ‘traditional family life isn’t going to happen, to have kids is going to involve a lot of work and steps to get there,’ and there’s a lot of people who see that work and effort, see that time and effort and energy needed to expend on the business of having kids, and say it’s not something they’re willing to go through. Having children is not a be all end all for everyone, gay and straight alike.

And ultimately, this really makes Gil’s story, his character arc, revolve more around Jill - Jill makes the decision that she’s going to have a kid and tosses fathering it in Gil’s lap. It’s not about him deciding to start a family, it’s someone else deciding to enlist his help in her effort to start one. It sorta makes me feel like I need to only romance him, in every playthrough of Andromeda I ever have, just to keep him from being backed into a corner on this.

Because it IS her pressuring him - he talks about how she gives him shit about ‘making her job harder,’ and, yeah, all our information about their friendship is through him, there are friendships like that, yadda, yadda, WHAT WE HAVE IN THE CANON TEXT is that she pressures him, regardless of how much or how little she means it, and then, after all of that, proceeds to drop this in his lap, with a seeming expectation that he’ll go along with it. Honestly? What is Gil getting out of this supposed friendship? Cuz it hasn’t done anything for him lately.

This isn’t Gil’s story. It’s not about him wanting a kid but not having been ready or willing before to take the plunge, or about him getting past any abandonment issues to commit to being a father. Jill is the one who has decided to be a parent, and her first instinct is ‘I’m gonna drag my gay best friend along for the ride!’ There’s no thumb to heteronormativity in that. That just reduces Gil into an accessory for this straight woman who appears for two minutes tops of screentime.

If I’m charitable, I’d call this well-meaning but misguided. Given the overall treatment of m/m relationships in Andromeda, I am not inclined to be charitable.