(with apologies to those up north...)



I live in a fishing and sailing town north of Boston, along the Atlantic.  Today, as I was wandering down along the docks, a local tuna fisherman was cutting up a 63″ bluefin he had caught that morning.  A crowd of a dozen onlookers watched as he cut huge slabs of meat from the fish, explaining what he was doing the entire time.  Kids and adults alike learned firsthand about fishing, tuna and fish anatomy and even got to sample the meat while he cut.  As hard as it was for some to watch, it was equally fascinating.  Apologies to those who might have preferred not to see this on their dash.


October 22, 2017

I'm fucked up

My head Freelancer headcanon is fucking ridiculous. Wash and Maine did date and Maine only spoke to Wash until he lost his ability to talk. And Wash could always decipher the growls. And North had this unrequited love for York, and tried not to hate Carolina for it, since he couldn’t hate his leader. South worried about him because he was 1 of 3 men in PFL who dated men and the other 2 were together. She would get after York if he ever seemed to lead North on. And South managed to convince the Director to give North a son-like AI since he wouldn’t have children of his own.
And in my headcanon, North dies shortly before York. When Delta tells him North died, he forces Delta to show him North’s last minute to find the bastard responsible.
And Wash’s heart breaks when Maine tries to kill him, so he’s reluctant to get close to Tucker.

And I had a thought that there’s a place Freelancers go when they die, and Georgia and CT are there to greet and welcome their team. When Florida comes, he’s shocked to learn that his California is still alive. Then when North comes, he’s thankful South isn’t there. Then York shows up. And North sorta comforts him and tells him Carolina’s okay. Then Wyoming comes and apologizes to York. Then South shows up and tells them who killed her. But she was thankful, as she grew unstable with Delta. York begins to tell them how he died and he forgives Wyoming.
Eventually, after more Freelancers appear, Maine appears, able to speak again. York is about to attack him for killing North and trying to kill Carolina, when North steps between them, immediately forgiving Maine. And eventually Alpha and Texas show up. And everyone forgives each other and loves each other and those who have people to watch over look over them fondly. Maine supporting Wash and Tucker and Florida supporting California’s reasons for faking her death to spare him.

Superman Imagine

Requested prompt: “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not leaving you.”

 19 & 78

Clark misses a date, and Superman saves you.

Metropolis’ glowing sky’s of bright blues and puffy white clouds hovered over it’s never ending sky scrapers that seemed to strike straight through the clouds and into space. It was the place to be. It’s city vibrant, alive, it’s economy ready to bloom and offer vast opportunities for those who came. Let’s also not forget it’s saviour. It’s security. It’s man in the sky: Superman. 

No doubt he always had his ears and eyes working 24/7. To the slightest clattering of a plate in some restaurant in the North, to the cocking of a gun down the South, he was always aware, watching without eyes. You couldn’t say this wasn’t hard to deal with. Numerous times you had been out at lunch, or dinner, when he’d have to suddenly stand up, smile, give you a polite apology, loosen his tie and walk off, leaving you to finish your dinner for two alone, alit by a single orange burning candle.

“Another glass of wine?” The waiter would say,

“Make it two.” 

This had happened on numerous occasions, more often that not he would leave half way, but that’s what you get for being in love with the Man of Steel. It was a crumbly road, one with no foot path. One you had to figure out alone.

On a Saturday night, the rain fell softly down on Metropolis. The night lights were strange colours of bright yellows to reds, oranges, and blues. Clark had arranged a Dinner for two, at a fancy restaurant, it’s name your tongue couldn’t tie it’s head around. 

 Walking into the restaurant the lights bounced off the golden embedded walls and crystal chandeliers which glistened on the roof. 

“Table for two under Clark Kent?” You asked the woman, she smiled and lead you through the maze of tables and sat you down by the window. 

“When will he be arriving?” She asked.

“Soon.” You reassured. Till then, she poured you some wine and you sat. Looking out the window occupied your mind for quite some time. Longer than you imagined really, as the woman quickly tapped your shoulder too ask,

“Will you’re guest be arriving soon?”

You nodded quickly, “Yes, very soon.” You smiled. Speckles of doubt beginning to enter in your mind. You checked your watch; twenty minutes had passed. You looked out side. You let out a breath of air and leant further into your chair. Clark would make it, wouldn’t he? 

Five minutes, another ten, and the lady tapped your shoulder, her mouth in a straight line, “Sorry to interrupt, but i’m afraid you’ll have to leave now.”

“He’s coming though, he is, he’s on his way he’d just a little lat-” You hadn’t realised your voice was growing louder,and more frantic with each word. The lady had put her finger to her mouth, saying, “Please keep your voice down Miss,” You looked behind her, people were looking, staring, smiling at you. Your heart broke. Your esteem vanished.

You left. You walked fast. You re-entered the raining Metropolis with tears running with the raindrops. You crossed your arms, the rain seeping through your coat. Your mouth croaked a sob, your hand quickly pulling to your mouth to quiet it. You sniffled. ‘Screw Clark, with his Superhero duties and handsome face’, you thought. 

You began walking forward fast, stepping down onto the road to cross it. The engine of a car rumbled in your ear fast. Too fast. In the middle of the road you turned your head, it’s head light blinding you instantly. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t run.Where do you run?! Where?! How?! Then, a steel metal impact hit you rough. Hard.You couldn’t feel the ground. Anything for the matter. You blinked your eyes fast, staring directly at a blue and red suit, the “S” under your hand as you were carried like a bride by the man who could fly.

The rain was hitting your face hard, so he quickly grabbed his cape, and put it over your face, leaving you blind to your destination. After a couple of minutes, you finally felt your slow decent. You stand up, his cape removed from your face. You look at Superman, his eyes down, and hands held together. He finally looks to you. Your eyes dark from your running make up, your hair wet and clothes drenched. 

“Why?” You begin, he looks in your eyes, “What was it this time?”

He lets out a slow breath,

“I try (y/n), i really do,” he admits, Your eyes glare into his,

“It’s hard (y/n), it’s hard and i’m trying so mu-”

“I know it must be hard but damn, you could at least try to show me the slightest bit of love every once in a while!” You say. He takes a few steps towards you. You stand still.

“You could save me from an -an on going car but you can’t save my heart from breaking?!” Your voice rises. He gets closer. You stay put.

Your bring your voice down, quietly saying,  knowing he can hear,

“I waited forty minutes.” He looks straight up at you, mouth slightly agape.

“(y/n) i’m so-”

“I know your sorry Clark,” His face relaxes when you call him Clark, a faint reminder of who he is.

“, and i’m worried that you think you owe the people too much.”

“It’s my job (y/n)”

“but even everyone needs a break from their job Clark. You may be a man in a cape, but you are also a man who has a mother, friends, a girlfriend.”

You look down at your feet.

“Just please don’t forget us.” your voice is quiet, petit.

He stands in front of you, his presences over towering your body, he puts his hand under your chin, pulling your head up to face him. Rain drops hit your face, and one hits your eye, causing you flitch, squeeze them shut and laugh. The cold rain caused you to grunt in surprise. You hear a deep laugh arise from his chest, and a quiet,


“This is your fault Clark don’t you dare laugh, my eye is blinded by the rain because of you,” you mutter, smile and sarcasm plastered on your lips. He laughs, unknowing to you it’s been awhile since he’s laughed. It feels nice. He misses your eyes, your quirky attitude, and weird humour. He kisses your lips. They’re wet and cold, but he doesn’t mind. His hand is now on your cheek when he pulls away,

“Go away Clark, i don’t want to see you anymore.” You joke, turning around, still rubbing your irritated eye from the raindrop. Clark laughs, Catching your waist from behind, “Leave me alone” You laugh as he turns you around, his arms now settling on your waist,

“Don’t be stupid, i’m not leaving you” he says smiling.

“I love you, and i’m sorry. I will try harder. I promise.” he admits, you smile and kiss his cheek which causes him to grin like a child,

“I know” you wink. He grins widely and pulls you in close, kissing you hard in the Metropolis rain.

–I hope you like it! if not i’ll write you another!!! :D

Robb Stark Imagine

can i request for a robb stark x reader one shot where the red wedding already took place (the reader didn’t attend the wedding so she’s still alive) but robb wasn’t beheaded and was able to be resurrected instead of catelyn. when robb and reader meet again, he wasn’t the same anymore. i hope it’ll be sad and all.. thank you so much!

You thought back to those long two months ago as you looked out your room’s window. Two months ago you kissed your husband, Robb, King of the North, goodbye for his journey to the Frey palace. You two were grateful that Lord Walder Frey was ok with Robb having married you even though he was promised to a Frey girl. In order to repay Lord Frey for the dishonor Robb set up a marriage between his uncle and a Frey daughter. Although you wished to accompany your husband to show give your apologies for having helped Robb break his marriage oath to the Freys his growing heir had other ideas. You were 4 moons pregnant with your and Robb’s prince of the North and the little one was still causing you some minor morning sickness. On top of the uncomfort you were feeling due to your growing size Robb instructed you to stay at Riverrun.

“I will be awaiting your return,” you said kissing him goodbye.

“I will get back as quickly as I can my love. Take care of your Mother little one,” he placed a hand over your stomach. “I love you. Both of you,” his eyes looked right into your soul. With one final kiss he got on his horse and left with his men and mother to the wedding.

The night the wedding was to take place you looked out the window thinking of your husband and your own wedding. It was simple and there was anybody there but, to you both, it was more than perfect. You drifted off to sleep with happy thoughts.

You woke up in the middle of the night with a pain in your heart. You felt worried but convinced yourself it was just a feeling that came with pregnancy. You struggled to get back to sleep but, after an hour or so, you finally did.

Morning broke and you rose with it. Before you were completely out of bed one of Riverrun’s generals walked eagerly in with two of your hand maidens. “My Queen,” he bowed but there was something in his voice that caught your attention.

“Sir Bend, what is it?”

“We received a letter moments ago about the wedding,” his voice was shaking and his eyes were glossed over. You sensed it coming.

“What is it, Sir Bend,” your voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“My Queen. Walder Frey ambushed the men at the wedding. It was a cover for an attack he had planned with the Lannisters. I am sorry, my Queen, but the King is dead.”

A scream echoed through your chest. You didn’t know a person could make such a sound. You found yourself dropping to your knees and, instinctively, one hand found it’s way to your stomach while the other one went to your heart. You felt hands on you trying to comfort you and them trying to get you laid in bed.

You weren’t sure how long you cried and screamed for but you found yourself sitting up in bed with barely a voice. “Get me Sir Ben,” you told one of your maidens while looking straight at the wall in front of you. She muttered something and walked to retrieve him.

“My Queen. I heard you needed to see me,” his voice was calm and timid, tiptoeing around you.

“My mother-in-law?”

“Killed also, M’Lady.”

“Grey Wind?”

“The Frey and Lannisters had him in a pin and used his cage as a way to kill him.”

“Alyia,” you called to your other maiden. “Fetch me paper and a quill please. Sir Bend, I want you to gather the remaining swords in the great hall. Have men on the tower at every hour looking for those who made it out of the wedding and are trying to get back to Riverrun.”

“My Queen?”

“I need to write to Jon Snow, the King’s brother. And I need to write to a Stannis.”

“Stannis? May I ask why, my Queen.”

“Robb was not against Stannis and had spoke of making an alliance with him to defeat the Lannisters. I intended to finish the job for my King and our child.


Stannis had promised to clear Winterfell out for you as quickly as he could so you could get home. Until then, you were in Riverrun. Your stomach had grown much larger as child of you and your King continued to grow in you. You had woken up as the sun was just starting to rise. Something had moved you awake and, as you looked at the red sun rise, you felt power and peace. It felt as if the sun was trying to tell you something. You got yourself out of bed and walked down the dark hallways to the kitchen; you and the little one needed something to eat before breakfast. You were cutting a piece of bread off the loaf when you felt an energy in the room with you. Barely shifting your gaze as you put the bread back you saw a figure hidden in the shadows behind you. You grabbed the knife in front of you and spun quickly, “Who are you and what do you want!” You screamed.

“Y/N,” the voice made your hand drop the blad. The echo of it clattering to the floor filled the void of silence in the dark kitchen.

“No,” tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. “You were killed two months ago. You were slaughtered!” You heard footsteps running towards you from the hallways; they had surely heard you scream.

“I was killed, yes. But I was brought back.”


“Impossible?” He stepped into the light that was beginning to shine through the kitchen window. As he did that the guards reached the kitchen and stopped when they saw the face of your late husband, the King of the North. The men looked at you for guidance as to what was going on here.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You ran to him as quick as you could and threw your hands around his neck, embracing him in the hug you had longed for since the moment he left. But, his arms didn’t wrap around you. “Robb, what’s the matter?”

“I heard you made an alliance with Stannis. And that you are planning on winning back Winterfell.” You nodded confused.

“Then we have work to do,” his cold voice told you. He glanced at your stomach then moved past you to Sir Bend. “Gather the men. We have plans to make.”

“Yes, my King,” his voice, still confused and worried, spoke.

“Robb?” You questioned him looking for any emotion that your Robb would have had before the Red Wedding. But he simply glimpsed at you and turned to follow his men to the great hall.


the 1975: pop’s most daring radicals | mtv news

“anybody of any kind of intellect understands that the most active people as consumers of music are young women. the most active people on social media, when you come to talking about music, are young women. mary shelley wrote frankenstein when she was 18, do you know what i mean? there’s fans of ours that i meet that are far smarter than me. of course they scream and they go wild — but if I was young and really, really excited, and drunk, and my favorite band was there, i’d be screaming and going wild! and you know, I could be really, really concerned and want to appeal to the kind of crusty, liberal, north londoner [audience]. but trust me. i’m telling you as a grown-up person: if you do what i do every single night, and you get the choice to play to that group of people or a bunch of screaming, younger girls who fucking love you, you’re going to choose that one. because it means more. it means something to those people. and i’m not going to apologize for embracing this intense emotional investment that i get from people. because — because it’s a big deal.”

I am so sick of white people trying to turn Dr. King into some non-confrontational white icon. Simple truth is that he wasn’t. He was absolutely confrontational, he was in your streets, in your face. Yes, he called for non-violent civil disobedience, but he also understood something white people never will. Let’s just say this… If you are more upset by the ‘Riots’ in North Carolina than the deadly police shootings of Black and Latino men in our streets, you simply don’t understand. Dr. Martin Luther King was not apologetic about black people standing up and demanding their rights, he was the one leading the charge! So don’t try and shame black people by posting MLK quotes about peace and love, while ignoring the fact that he understood the pain that caused those riots. Dr. King would not be sitting on FOX news apologizing for damaged police cars and trying to comfort white people, he would be right there in the front line marching through the streets, demanding justice.

Give me your tired, your poor, Your Headcannons yearning to breathe free...

Do you have head cannons about the Wizarding World of the Americas? Here at SPAWN (the Society of the Protection of the American Wizarding Narrative), we are looking to collect headcannons about the Americas by those who know it best. (Note that my use of the term Americas is in the continental sense; I welcome any and all from anywhere in North or South America to participate).

Just tag your posts with “spawnhp” and I’ll reblog here. Also feel free to submit directly to the page! (If it takes a few days for me to post, I apologize, I’m in school and working and don’t always get online as much as I’d like.)

I can’t wait to see what you all come up with!


And you know, I could be really, really concerned and want to appeal to the kind of crusty, liberal, North Londoner [audience]. But trust me. I’m telling you as a grown-up person: If you do what I do every single night, and you get the choice to play to that group of people or a bunch of screaming, younger girls who fucking love you, you’re going to choose that one. Because it means more. It means something to those people. And I’m not going to apologize for embracing this intense emotional investment that I get from people. Because — Because it’s a big deal

anonymous asked:

Just adding that many people--including the Larry you reblogged are more in the thinking that Sophia and Liam are still together but are pretending to be broken up for this new stunt with Cheryl

Anonymous said:
I don’t think larries are seeing the light actually they’re saying this mess means that sophiam never actually broke up! and that what’s happening rn is just promo! even the larrie you reblogged the post from so yeah no lol they’re still “deluded” 😂

Like I said, you gotta let the process work itself out. Rome wasn’t built in a day. But I’m a giver so I’m gonna help with that fake Sophiam break-up theory.

Let’s revisit Sophiam break-up 1.0

After finally getting together with his schoolboy crush, he has been forced to call it a day - after work got in the way. Now pals say he decided to end things for good, saying he doesn’t want uni student Sophia Smith spending her time waiting for him to come back from his demanding world tour.

A pal told The Sun Liam was “really sad” about ending the relationship but realised it was the “right thing to do.”

“Liam made the painful decision to end it. It has been really hard for him, all alone on the other side of the world so soon after going through a break-up.

This was ONE WEEK after the WWA tour started. One week apart and Liam was like so long girl. Wow, that’s quite a bond they had. So break-up stories that don’t hold water aren’t anything new with Sophiam. 1DHQ doesn’t care if they don’t make sense. The tabloid media will get behind it and help sell it regardless. Gullible fans will buy it. Casual observers won’t even question it. That’s how it works.  

Yes, Sophiam was shady. Shady from day 1. You remember “day 1″? That included Funky Buddha promo. 

How about “day 2″? Pepsi promo.

A note about “day 2″? Remember when this was dropped on the fandom to fuel speculation that he was getting back together with Danielle? Why would Liam be so shady? Why would he use an authentic budding relationship for stunt purposes? This was at the London Zoo, which back then 1D promo’d via Elounor and Zerrie too. Connect those dots.

 What about “day 3″?  Topshop promo. 

That was one of her main jobs–promo. Job because  the whole thing was a fauxmance and she was a beard and promo machine–just like Eleanor. 

I believe the 2014 “break-up” would have been permanent if not for weedgate. Because post weedgate, it was Liam that was drafted to do the apologizing. It was Liam who was the face of stable, conservative 1D going forward. And that was important because the North American leg of the tour was still ahead. And 1DHQ was always very careful that 1D appear very hetero leading up to and during the North American leg of the tour. 

So as 1D’s unofficial spokesman, Liam needed to appear hetero. Hence, Sophia’s return. There was no time to vet a new beard. Therefore, she got her job back. 

There’s as much foolery surrounding Sophiam as there was surrounding Elounor. If you’re not paying attention, you’ll miss stuff. Consequently, your theories will be based on faulty information. And that brings us back to the fake Sophiam break-up theory. It doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. In fact it sounds shockingly naive.

Beyond that, what kind of a shitty person do people think Liam is? Riddle me this: Do you think Liam would protect his loved ones from 1DHQ’s fuckery or would he happily throw them to those wolves? Would he want his real girlfriend slandered as a bitter copycat in the tabloids or would such a thing not be ok with him in a million years? And why would Liam trust a woman who’s gung ho about stuntin’ and using their real relationship as a fake narrative plot point? Think about it…    

Some things, some GREAT news, some awesome readers

Hey everyone, I hope every one enjoyed their holiday weekend. I myself had a blast with BBQ and some beer. Lets get down to business shall we…

I would like to announce to all of you readers that I have something special lined up for the 2 year anniversary of Oldtype/Newtype. The past couple of months I have acquired 4 issues of the inaugural year of Newtype magazine. One of those issues is the very first issue of the magazine, 4/1985. Also, there is an exclusive interview with Yoshiyuki Tomino that I will have translated for your enjoyment. I really can’t wait for you all to see it.

Also, once again I have to apologize for the lack of posting. I used to do most of my posting from work. Well, some idiots at work a couple of months ago decided to stream Netflix during office hour on our unrestricted internet access proxy AND they were using a switch that was monitored by the network team up north. Assholes fucked up a good thing. Going forward I will either post at night or queue it up for the next day.

You guys are the shit. I will finish the rest of the current issue this week and start the next one right after. Thank you all for being the best readers. Seriously. It’s a great feeling to provide something for the anime community. It makes doing this so much more easier.

Here are the 1985 issues that I have so far. You all will be seeing them this summer. Goodnight family.