i need a lot of data and can really use the help

US Presidents As Dril Tweets
  • George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it
  • John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.
  • Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts
  • James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby
  • James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"
  • John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit
  • Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!
  • Martin Van Buren: Food $200
  • Data $150
  • Rent $800
  • Candles $3,600
  • Utility $150
  • someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying
  • William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good
  • John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this
  • James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom
  • Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying
  • Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...
  • Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin
  • James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...
  • Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"
  • Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off
  • Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT
  • Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,
  • James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now
  • Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark
  • Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site
  • Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc
  • William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!
  • Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL
  • William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*
  • Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer
  • Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me
  • Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals
  • Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud
  • Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me
  • Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume
  • Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed
  • John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self
  • Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"
  • Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups
  • Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right
  • Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again
  • Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn
  • George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT
  • Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,
  • George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,
  • Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line
  • Donald Trump: no
How Sony deals with fandoms

I’ve been to an international in-house PR summit hosted by one of my clients this week and nearly fell off my chair when one of the guest speakers was a VERY important person from Sony Music Entertainment. Let’s call him John. I won’t disclose his function and real name because I don’t want to reveal where I was, but based on his title he definitely knows what he‘s saying and has a lot of industry experience.

His speech was mainly  about how to engage with a variety of different target audiences. Of bloody course one of the first slides he showed was a picture of 1D engaging with fans which was supposed to drive the point home that there are some audiences who are more passionate about a brand than others.He mentioned then that he’s worked with 1D on their albums which drove me into a bit of a freeze.

Because I’m embarrassing, I recorded parts of his speech on my phone and wrote the most important things down to share some interesting insights he gave about how Sony manages their artists’ target audiences, crafts their artists’ social media actions and deals with the fact that at the end of the day they always need to get people to buy music.

 

HOW DOES SONY UNDERSTAND AND MONITOR AUDIENCES (like fandoms for instance)?

According to John, they have their very own data-driven digital tool that helps them identify and manage different target groups for an artist (it’s not perfected yet but has been rolled out a lot of countries, I think he said 50?) and see where there might be connections to other artists, who the influencers are, what the specific target groups are or will be interested in and to identify collaboration opportunities.

Target groups are being split into four categories: Fanatics, enthusiasts, casuals, indifferents. These segments are being broken down into even smaller groups defined by age, genre preference, gender and country. They found that the older you get, the less likely you’ll be a fanatic or enthusiast.

How does Sony find this stuff out? Well, they survey polled music audiences of every age in a way that covers either nationally representatives or represent one of the major top tier cities. People shared their music preferences, consumption habits, lifestyle, media habits etc. Sony gathered all that information, analysed the insights and created their own audience understanding tool.

According to John, that way everyone at Sony has access to an interactive map of the world of Sony that looks into segmentations and audiences for every artist while being searchable in a number of different ways. The tool is pulling from real data, but they are also adding to that „with things like analytics of platforms like Spotify where we are able to gather lots of informations about user behaviours and reference that against things that we do“.

 

HOW SONY STRATEGICALLY SHAPES PR STORIES

John gave the example of Snoop Doggy Dog who had launched a new album (song? Idk) around that time: „There was a week-long debate in parliament around the legalization of Marihuana, so we just jumped on this conversation and did lots of social marketing around Snoop with his rolling papers and his spliffs… so maybe that’s bad taste, I’ll allow you to judge that for yourselves. The point is though that you are also marketing into a wider cultural context. [You need] an understanding how that works and where you can have a conversation that is seamless and not fake, genuineness is quite important.

“The way you can get people to connect is: You’ve got a lot of stuff that you want to say. Start under the assumption that people actually don’t give a shit about 95 percent of it. And then see which are the bits that might overlap. This is where the understanding of the audience really comes into its own. It forces us to think before we jump to execution. The quest for relevance is vitally important.”

Why are people to connect with a brand/band though? John thinks this is one of the most underused questions when planning an approach. Why is it that they do specific things? He gave an example: „We would normally take a record to radio because we always believe that radio is the thing that breaks the record. But if my core audience, my phase one audience – the people that are gonna give that band its first lift – are on Spotify, what am I doing on radio??“


ENGAGEMENT AROUND ARTIST IS KEY

„The thing is that you don’t start with a conversation around a product. The consumption of the product is the end point of a journey where you built an engagement and a fan. So again, for us that means that when we sit down and do our plan around our next Robbie Williams album, we start with „How are we gonna maximize the engagement around Robbie Williams“? because that will then sell us albums. Not „Okay, we’ll be releasing in a week in November, eight weeks out we need to be here, here and here“. So we’re not doing product launches anymore unless [it is suitable for the target demographic]. We have to built a tension and an engagement around an artist.“

 

ABOUT THEIR ARTISTS‘ SOCIAL MEDIA CHANNELS

„We run most of our artists social media channels or at least their official  pages, so we are involved in all of those conversations.“


Shocking, I know.

Based on the situation we face in this fandom,with this band, feel free to draw your own conclusions about what this information means.

HERE ARE MY KEY TAKEAWAYS:

1.       It’s not news at all, but the existence of their own audience understandig tool confirms it: the 1D fandom is being monitored, segmented and analyzed. Sony’s strategies are tightly tied to that fact. Collaborations or artist interactions such as Louis/James Arthur or One Direction/ Little Mix are most likely the result of a data-driven analysis of whose fan groups are similar and whose are likely to be open towards that particular other artist too.

2.       Again no news, but the example of Snoop Doggy Dog shows that there are strategies behind even the most random photos. Often placements of specific pictures or stories serve a wider purpose. Hello pap walks, hello b**ygate, hello Louis Twitter, hello Liam visibly being linked to L.A.‘s cool singer/songwriter crowd before his first album drop.  

3.       The decision to not promote Louis‘ song could very well have been a logical outcome of the team asking themselves the question „Why?“: Why should we promote his song with huge effort when we KNOW his own fans are going to do it passionately, especially if they think  we don’t give a shit? Why not playing that game in order to make them promo it the hardest way they can?“ Why indeed??

4.       One Direction is a huge deal for Sony. John was talking about a lot of bands during his speech but whenever he was talking about major acts, he always listed One Direction amongst them (along with gems like Beyonce, David Bowie, Adele). He name-dropped them at least 5 -6 times in a 60 minute speech. He really didn’t have to because the audience was in no way whatsoever a target audience. So yes, they clearly have been and are a very huge deal for them.

5.       The part about social media? Well :))))))

Humans are weird: The lost colony

*Quick note before I start: This is the first installment in a series I’ve called the Lost Colonies which is largely about human society adapting to the strange environments of other worlds. You can read the other installments here: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing this series, but with my new work schedule I had to bring it to a close. If you’ve enjoyed this story follow me on here for my other writings. Thanks again to everyone who has reblogged, liked, replied, DMed, or otherwise shown their appreciation for this series. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed it and the love you’ve all shown me has really helped keep me going for these last few months.*

An adult Turic sits behind a desk jotting down notes as a recorder takes down the interview for future analysis.
“I understand that this entire ordeal has been stressful for you and your fellow colonists but due to your unique situation we would like to use this opportunity to better understand human culture. Please let me know if we need to stop or if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable.”
The human, a younger female by the name of Kiara fidgets in her seat.
“No, I’m fine, I just haven’t ever seen an alien before. Hell, until a few months ago no one had ever heard anything but legends of people from outer space.”
The Turic looks down at his notes as he tries to reconcile this information.
“According to our research it says that your colony was originally founded just over 500 Sols ago. Are you saying that in that short amount of time your colony’s knowledge of spacefaring and other sapient races was erased?”
“I guess? What’s a Sol though? How long would that be?”
“Oh, a unit of time measurement based on the solar rotation of your home world. Prior to your race’s colonization of other worlds you referred to it as a year. For reference, you are estimated to be 22 Sols old.”
“Then yeah, that makes a lot of sense. We didn’t really have permanent settlements and had to keep moving. One of the older stories said that we came to our world in a fiery ship and that the remains of it could be found out in the wastes once a cycle. That’s what we call it when the Thaw comes back to the same point.”
“I have heard some of the other colonists mention this Thaw. This is the name for the habitable zone in which your colony exists, correct?”
“Yeah, you live in the Thaw, you move with the Thaw. The Thaw keeps you from burning or freezing as long as you work with it. It protects you, feeds you and keeps you alive, but it always moves so you need to move with it.”

The Turic frantically scribbles notes on its data pad.
“Fascinating. It appears as though your civilization has come to mythologize a natural phenomenon the way your ancestors on earth frequently would. Your colony was founded on a planet that was almost what we would call tidally locked. In essence one side of it always faced your neighboring star and it rotated as it spun around it so that the same side always faced it at all times. However the spin was off by a small fraction so that the planet gradually rotated to have a day/night cycle, but this cycle was so slow that it took roughly 50 Sols for a single rotation. This would have made for a narrow band of surviveable temperatures but one that was constantly shifting albeit at a slow pace.”
Kiara stared blankly at the Turic.
“Sorry, that went a little over my head. What I think I caught from that though is that one side of my world faced the light and one side faced the dark and we lived in the space between. Which yeah, that’s the Thaw.”
“I apologize, this is fascinating for me, I’m just curious as to how or why your people took what appears to be such a large step backwards in their technological capabilities.”
“Well, like I said, some of our stories say that we came from a fiery ship and that it can be found in the wastes. If my people really did come from another world, maybe we crashed and our technology broke. We do tend to keep on the move and we usually leave things behind when they break and can’t be fixed. I wasn’t old enough to remember seeing the great ship when my parents took me there and it was taken by the scorch a long time ago.”

The Turic stared at his data pad wondering how he would even begin to unravel all of this.
“Well, hopefully we can find some solid answers to this mystery someday, but I would like for you to tell me more about your colony. What is life like on your world?”
Kiara straightened up in her seat and smiled.
“My name is Kiara Williams. I’m a frost melt like my mother and father before me. We work on the very edge of the Thaw to make sure that the glaciers, mountains and streams run in the right ways when it comes time for the Thaw to reach them in full. We scout lands in the cold to find new sites for villages. We dig breaks in the ice to make sure that the largest sheets fall away from farms and villages. It’s bitter cold and dangerous work but it’s important and sometimes exciting.”
The Turic stared in an expression that would have been the human equivalent of slack-jawed.
“You colony had the technological equivalence of pre-industrialization. Are you saying that your people geoformed an ice world to ensure proper farmland using little more than steel tools and furs?”
“Well there are plenty of other jobs too. My brother is a farmer out in the warmer parts of the Thaw and I have a cousin who lives on the other end of it as a waste reclaimer.”
“And what is it that your cousin does?”
“He goes out into the scorch looking for broken things that can be fixed or things that were left behind by accident. Most people say that’s not a job for an honest person, but he has a real knack for finding stuff to sell. I heard he even managed to find a few relics off the great ship.”
The Turic made a note to track down this cousin immediately.
“Are those the only professions available?”
“Of course not. There’s bakers and builders and law makers but we do have to keep moving with the Thaw so most of us try not to stay in one place too long. It doesn’t help to get too attached. We can usually only get 3 or 4 harvests out of a plot of land before it gets too hot to grow. That’s why frost melts like me are so important to help scout the farms in advance.”

The Turic glanced at the blinking light on his recorder that was letting him know that his allotted time was nearly up.
“I’ll need to let you get back to your family unit soon, but is there anything else you can tell me about your colony or its culture?”
Kiara sighed. “Not really. Being a frost melt, I spend most of my days surrounded by ice as far as the eye can see. It’s strange and beautiful though. There’s massive mountains made of nothing but ice and I know that if I simply walk for a few hours towards out into the frost it would be cold enough to kill, but I know that I’m the one who gets to tame it. At times when the wind is calm I can breath the cold in deep and look out to the stars and wonder what it would be like to explore them too.”
Kiara looked down at her feet self consciously and laughed.
“I guess I can actually get to do that now huh?”
The Turic adopted the human expression of a smile.
“There is a lot of unexplored space out there. I’m sure the human race would be proud to have you back to help them seek it out.”

First Contact

This is a very hasty opening section to a story I’m going to write about Humans being the weird ones. For the most part, I’m just going to use the concepts I like and leave out the ones I don’t I also refuse to make the aliens talk like fucking morons such as everyone else does. it pisses me off. there is no reason for them to be both polite and also use regular words instead of sounding like they are vomiting a thesaurus. I also used terms like Light Year and Light Minute even though they are subjective terms applicable only to the ear’s solar cycle because it is better than making up terms that have no context but essentially mean the same thing.


Also, I suck at writing so I apologize in advance.


———————————————————————————————————–


It started three hundred million years ago. The Dareth species was spreading across the galaxy. In only a few hundred years, they had completely conquered it, and had devoted their resources to moving beyond to other galaxies. After a few thousand years, they had taken more and more regions, never stopping, declaring all space to belong to them. But finally, in a supreme effort through the combined forces of 538 hundred species, one galaxy worked together to reclaim their systems. After that monumental and unique victory, the other galaxies followed suit and fought to own their systems again. It took nearly 5,000 years, but the efforts of 247 galaxies containing 350 million species drove the Dareth down to a single solar system.  Trillions of lives were lost from all sides, but the megalomaniacal Dareth were nearly destroyed.

Once they had won, the leading species of the revolution held mass executions, reducing the Dareth to a few hundred children, all in their adolescence. Stripping them of all clothes and tools, they were marooned on a hostile planet in a distant galaxy over 50 billion light years away, devoid of life. The planet was carefully chosen, a careful balance of being able to support life, while also being borderline inhospitable. It was filled with dangerous animals, few edible foods, and was plagued with extreme biomes and fluctuating weather.

No one really expected the children to live, but they thought that they would at least offer the chance. Once they were on the planet, deemed “prison 1”, all species immediately broke contact. And after a few hundred years, they also slowly stopped monitoring the Dareth children who miraculously survived. Since they were children, they were mostly uneducated in the ways of production and the manufacturing of advanced technology, so they initially were capable of little more than cave dwelling and hunting with stone weapons. They developed very slowly, and it seemed that no one had to worry about the Dareth again. After several million years, people referred to them mainly as a mythological monster race, no one really believing that the Dareth really ever existed. They faded into obscurity, eventually remembered only in a legend only history fanatics knew of.

Until one day several millions of years later, that is. An expeditionary task force was exploring a barren galaxy, and came across a primitive radio signal. They traced the source to a solar system a few light years away. Upon entry, they must have triggered an ancient outpost; a message appearing on the main screen. The words were incomprehensible, but a translator ran a few algorithms and after several minutes, showed the message in the crew’s native language. Unfortunately, the message was so short that the software could not fully translate the whole message.

W-rn—: You h-ve e-tered – forb-dde- sector. You h-ve f-ve m–utes before –uthor-t-es t-ke –ct-o-. To        -vo-d arrest, e-ther e-ter your p-ss code or le-ve –mmed—tely for your ow- protect-o-.

A count down timer followed the message.  Unfortunately, the software took a few minutes to translate, and by the time it finished, the counter was in the last 30 seconds.

“What language is that?” Admiral Hot’ath asked no one in particular, knowing full well that all known languages (over 2 trillion) were in the ship’s computer and would have identified it within seconds. Typing a search into the fleet’s contact list, he called the head Archivist “I need you to analyze this message.” He ordered, attaching both the original and translated message to a file, sending it to the Archivist. “Tell me if you think it is an ancient language, or a foreign one.” The female only glanced at it before answering.

“Ancient. I can’t read it, but it strongly resembles Standard Intergalactic it is either a more archaic and older form, or a language that coincidentally is similar to our ancient dialect.”

The admiral nodded in understanding. The message was nothing to be concerned over. The solar system was cordoned off so long ago, that everyone had forgotten that it was even there. Thusly, there were no authorities coming to get them, so they had time before deciding whether to leave or not.

“Sir.” The captain of the flagship interrupted. “Even if no one is here, there is a reason this area was blackzoned, and if anyone finds out we were here, legal actions can still be taken against us.”

He nodded knowingly. “Where did this message originate?”

The communication officer answered. “A small outpost on the planet furthest from the system’s star.” The man brought the co-ordinates up on the main bridge screen. The navigation officer quickly followed up with a map of the system, marking where the planet was.

“We can at least go there.” The admiral said firmly. “If nothing else, we can legally go that far and collect data.” The captain nodded, plotting a course on the map and sending it out to the rest of the fleet.

They planned a small expeditionary force to explore the station and gather artifacts and information. What they found astounded them. It turned out that one of the planets in the solar system was an ancient prison of sorts. The records that had survived was enough for a complete translation of the archaic language, but even so, no one knew who these Dareth were, or why they were exiled to such a distant galaxy, barren of life. No one, that is, except the archivists.

The Admiral again called the head archivist, “Proffessor Lart-tch, do you know who the Dareth were?”

Immediately, the blood drained from the archivist’s skin, the grey flesh turning a sickly white. “T-the Dareth?” she affirmed, hoping that she misheard.

The admiral slowly nodded, grimacing. The reaction was enough to let him know that there was in fact a very good reason they were exiled so far away. “I take it they are not good?”

“To put it lightly.” The female answered. “Though the legend is so old, it is probably exaggerated. But we all thought it was just that. A legend. Or more like a horror story.” She added the end with a shudder. Then with a flash of fear, she started. “We came here because we picked up a radio signal.” Her voice was a whisper, cracking with terror. “We need to leave now!”

The admiral was surprised. “Are they really so dangerous? Only a single outpost was here to watch them, and it was peacefully abandoned.”

“This was a race that had conquered over 500 galaxies. Not planets. Not Solar systems. Not Starfields. Galaxies.”

This time, the blood drained from the admiral’s face. The largest empire recorded in history was a single, unified galaxy. Two was unthinkable. But 500? That was terrifying. “You said that the legend is probably exaggerated though.” He tried to assure himself.

The woman nodded, “Yes, but only in the hundreds. There is lots of evidence that at some point in the distant past, some sort of empire had spread across between two and three hundred galaxies. No one is exactly sure how many, but at that scale, even a hundred off is little difference in scale of even the mightiest empire.”

“H-how did we ever defeat such a force?”

The woman merely shrugged. “The legend is vague on that part. But it ends with a few hundred children being left on a hostile planet with nothing to help them survive. They were essentially sent back to the stone age, and were expected to die. But they didn’t. And they will eventually learn how to leave their planet again and return to kill us all.”

The idea was enough to send a cold stab of fear through the Admiral. “We should leave.”

But before he could give any orders, the communication officer called to him from across the bridge. “Sir, we have received a message via the radio waves coming from the planet identified as Prison 1.”

Another cold stab tore through him. “Can we translate it?”

The officer nodded. “it is primitive, but I have made the adjustments to decipher it. It seems that they are repeating the same message over and over.”

“Is there enough to translate?”

“Barely. It is difficult to read, but it boils down to saying, ‘We are here and want to talk.”

The admiral had no clue what to do. If what he was just told was true, then potentially the most dangerous species to ever live was asking making contact with him, the first foreign species they have seen in millions of years.

After several moments, he decided what to do. “Tell them that we are on the edge of a restricted zone and may not come any closer. We also need to leave as soon as possible before we get in trouble.”

He was visibly shaking in fear, and he knew that there would probably be more messages before they were able to leave. There were still units searching the outpost, and it would take around 30 hours before they were recalled, even if they left immediately. They were 327 lightminutes from the Prison Planet, but that still left time for quite a few messages before they were able to leave.

Sooner than expected, another message arrived. “They are asking if they are in the restricted area, and if they will get in trouble as well.”

“N-no. Tell them it does not affect them.” He stammered out. This was getting out of hand. He was neither a military officer, nor a diplomat and this was something that no one in the entire fleet was capable of dealing with.

Again. A reply much sooner than he wanted. “They are asking why the area is restricted.”

This one was surprisingly easy to answer. “Tell them that we don’t know.” He lied

A few hours later, “They want to know what our protocol for First Contact is.”

The answer to that question was drilled into the explorer so hard, that the words came out before he realized that he was speaking. “Observe and learn until they contact us, then send a survey team to the surface to directly learn as much as possible about the new species. Providing any technological knowledge is prohibited until intergalactic diplomats arrive and officially classify the species and permit trade. Ideally, the envoy will make the decision before any contact. In the unavoidable circumstance that contact is made, we are to treat said species as a Class Three.” He finished, then realizing that the Dareth probably didn’t know what planet classes were, he quickly listed, “Class 1: lower intelligent, incapable of societal structure. Class 2: Upper intelligence, incapable of leaving planet. Class 3: Capable of limited space travel. Class 4: Capable of extended space travel under light speed. Class 5: Capable of FTL travel. Class 6: Capable of Intergalactic travel. And the hypothetical Class 7: Capable of instantaneous travel.”

He listed these quickly, momentarily forgetting the insane levels of danger they were in. fortunately, the message came slower than the others. But it still came. “They are asking if contact takes precedence over the blackzone.”

This was the first question that the admiral was completely at a loss for. The majority of blackzones existed because of environmental dangers the others were for military secrecy and they all took up several solar systems. This was by far the smallest blackzone he had ever even heard of and it did not fall under either category.  “T-tell them that….” He started talking, but he couldn’t think of anything. Fortunately, they didn’t wait for a reply. “Sir, they have sent us a file that seems to be a compilation of their history, biology, anatomy, and information of their planet’s wildlife, fauna, geography, and more.”

“A-are you serious?” he blurted out. The officer nodded. They labeled and organized everything for us. There is even information on their technology and mass medical records. They gave us everything.”

“Are there images of them?”

“Yes sir. Also, they call themselves, ‘humans.’”

“Screen.”

A series of pictures flooded the main screen showing hundreds and hundreds of the Dareths. Some were professional, and some were impromptu. They also greatly ranged in age with varying degrees of quality from brown and a little blurry to full spectral and crisp The newest ones even being three dimensional video. They did not look particularly dangerous, though they did have predatory features. They were bipeds with joint articulation and front facing eyes.  It seemed that they had full body skeletons and were mostly hairless, except for their heads and some of their faces. They were also very diverse. Some had pale skin, some were brown, some were yellow tinted, and more.  On top of photographs and videos, the Dareths also included a single diagram of a Human in a circle. It did not take long for the Admiral to understand that it was a mathematical diagram of the Human’s physiology. “Fascinating.” He whispered. But there was one thing above all else that astounded him. The photographs genuinely looked happy. There were pictures of Humans who were angry and sad as well, but for the most part, they all had kind expressions. If they were the Dareths in the legends, then either they had changed, or they were trying to trick him into letting down his guard.

“Sir,” the intelligence officer spoke up. “The planet has an open network database containing the planet’s combined knowledge. We can cross-reference everything they gave us with that system to see if they deliberately left out information or lied.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that we have enough time for that. I want to leave immediately.” Though he was still scared, he did not feel like the Dareths were of any danger or were lying to them. To the communication officer, he ordered. “Record and transmit as follows: Thank you, humans. You have saved us much time and deliberation. With this, we can go back and deliver the information you provided to our government and they will decide what to do next. We are merely an expeditionary unit and have no authority. You have provided us with an easy answer to deal with such an abnormal situation. We will leave as soon as possible and return to our home system without delay.”

When he finished talking, the captain spoke. “Sir, the expeditionary force has returned.”

“Good, we are leaving immediately!” he blurted out.

While the fleet left, they received one last message, “Good bye. We look forward to your return.”

Once they were safely in FTL, he ordered the “human” file to be distributed to all of the ships. In the months it took to return to their home system, everyone had poured over the files and read as much as they could. And frankly, no one knew whether they should be terrified or relieved. By now, the legend of the Dareths had spread throughout the fleet, and despite the history of war and violence that was in the files, there was just as much goodness in them. They seemed to be a fiercely loyal people, extremely innovative, and often benevolent to a fault. This was the trouble. There was no solid trend to determine their species overall personality. Even in war, they would often be kind to their enemies even while they killed them. But when they made an alliance, it was not easily broken; and when they decided to help someone in need, they did everything in their power to do so.

And none of that was even touching their bizarre physiology. They could handle an incredibly wide variety of biomes and conditions, they could survive and recover from what most species would consider life threatening injuries, they ate anything and everything, even if it had no nutritional value or was even dangerous to them. They often underwent drastic changed to their physiology for completely aesthetic reasons. And their medical methods were nothing short from horrific. They actually cut themselves open and put the organs of their dead inside their own bodies and survived. They cut out their organs, and replaced parts of their bodies as though they were machines.

By the time they reached their home, the crew had split in two as to the opinion whether the information they had was true or not. Some said that it made sense for such a domineering race to be capable of such things, while the others insisted that the information was designed to confuse them and make the humans seem stronger than they were. As far as the admiral, he was certain that the information was true. It was all nonchalant, and so strange that it didn’t seem right that the Dareth’s purposefully made it up.

He dutifully handed it over to his superior and up the chain it went. A few weeks later, he was summoned before the King. He knew immediately why. What he didn’t know was if it was a good or bad thing. The escort gave him no time to prepare. They took him from his office to the planetary palace across the continent. He was searched and taken into the throne room, the King and his wife lounging on a large sofa while other nobles of high office lined the room.

Admiral Hot’ath walked forward and knelt before the King and Queen “My liege.”

The king was a large man, but his weight was deceptive, he was an intelligent and cunning man who only appeared to be a lazy slob. So when the King looked down on him with his beautiful wife leaning against him, Hot’ath felt a stab of fear just as powerful as the one he felt facing the Dareth.

“So you are the man who says that there a monsters on the edge of the universe?” the King’s voice was slow and deep, but his tone did not seem mocking.

“Your highness,”

“I kid of course.” The king interrupted, speaking just as slowly. “I have read through all of the reports made on the subject and looked at the Human’s files personally. I understand why so many believe them to be the Dareth’s in the old story, and to be honest, I agree.” His voice gave nothing away, he spoke in nearly a monotone.

Hot’ath relaxed slightly. “I am sure that you know, but I feel that it bears repeating. My fleet did not enter the BlackZone. We remained on the edge and only got so close to explore the outpost, which is not against the law.”

The large king laughed, his bulbous core jiggling as it heaved. “Again, I agree. You have done nothing worth punishment. I have ordered your presence to ask your personal opinion on the information. Do you think that it is reliable, or a Dareth ruse?

After a moment, the admiral replied, “May I speak freely, my liege?”

“I insist it.”

Hot’ath took a breath, “I think that it is all true, my liege.” The crowd around them broke out in a quiet deliberation at his statement. “It is all far too strange to have been made up.” He continued. “I feel like it is subtle and presented as normal. If they were lying, then the lies would have been emphasized and presented as proud aspects of their race. But they record these traits as nothing special. I am certain they would be genuinely surprised if they were to learn about our own physiology and how we are so much weaker compared to them..

The king nodded. “I feel the same. But this is far too dangerous to act one without facts. Tell me why you think they gave the files to us if not for deception.”

“I think that it was an act of trust. I believe that they did so because I was hesitant to go visit their planet. I had told them that they were in a black zone, so they understood that I was not allowed to spend time and wanted to make things easy for me. Also, I do not believe that this was in my report, but my Intelligence officer had access to a global network of their combined knowledge. It was open to everyone. As far as we could tell in the short amount of time we were there, they only provided information that was on the network, that is to say, none of this is a secret to them, and they have no problem with others knowing.”

“That is new information.” The king muttered. “New Knowledge New Light.” The old saying seemed especially applicable here. “I order you to go back. I give you permission to enter the blackzone and go to their planet. Keep at least one ship on the edge out of their range. Under the slightest hint of suspicion, have it leave immediately and return directly to me so we know that they cannot be trusted.

“W-why me?”

“Do not misunderstand. You will have diplomats go with you and a small military escort. But you seem to have earned your rank and are capable of subtle discernment. You will not be doing anything more than your regular job, just with the added knowledge that everything could be a lie. I merely need you to let us know if that is the case.

List of every Dadvice in Dream Daddy

“Don’t forget to floss every day”,
“It’s never too early to invest in a personal IRA”,
“Start building credit as early as possible”,
“Stand up for yourself - don’t let anyone disrespect you”,
“Everyone needs to know how to use power tools”,
“Don’t trust anyone who likes their meat well done”,
“LaserDisc is clearly the superior digital video format”,
“Drink a full glass of water in the morning to help wake up”,
“Don’t use metal utensils on nonstick frying pans”,
“If you’re parking uphill, be sure to turn your tires toward the street”,
“It’s rude to ask people about their mysterious hand tattoos”,
“Moving Pictures is hands down the best Rush album”,
“Buy quality, not quantity”,
“Shave with the grain”,
“You always have time for a beer with your buds”,
“Always use a coat of wax after a wash”,
“Nothing can beat reading in print”,
“Always carry a pocket knife”,
“Use your hips when throwing”,
“Keep your word”,
“Eat a lot of broccoli”,
“Drinking too much water can cause water intoxication”,
“Take care of your health while you’re still young”,
“Always help a friend in need”,
“Drink plenty of water”,
“Exercise regularly and you’ll stay healthy!”,
“Don’t eat too close to your bedtime”,
“Always check the card reader at ATMs before you swipe”,
“Medicine is not always the best medicine”,
“Always bring a war chest”,
“You’re young, you have your health, now is the time to take risks”,
“You can’t beat the whammy bar”,
“The solo from Kid Charlemagne is the greatest guitar solo ever recorded”,
“Peter Weller actually has a PHD in history”,
“It’s called masking tape for a reason”,
“Trust no one”,
“If you press the ignition too long you’ll just flood the engine”,
“The extended cut is the only cut worth watching”,
“They really stepped up the production value in Episode V”,
“Managing debt is just part of being an adult”,
“Run through the finish line”,
“What you do, when you don’t have to, will determine where you’ll be when you can’t help it”,
“When lifting weights, use proper form and a full range of motion”,
“Gas is cheaper in the suburbs”,
“Do what you love and the money will come”,
“Do it once, do it right”,
“Don’t skip the corners”,
“Eat plenty of carbs the night before a big game”,
“If the police are driving behind you, don’t give them probable cause to pull you over”,
“Try to drive in a way where you never have to use your brakes”,
“You can save bookmarks directly to your desktop”,
“A bird in the hand is better than a bird in the eye”,
“Pet every dog”,
“Have you ever read Rich Dad Poor Dad?”,
“Liquor before beef, you’re in the clear”,
“Go ask your mother”,
“If life gives you lemons, parsley, onion, and eggs… make a really nice omelet”,
“Practice makes permanent”,
“First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairiest chest”,
“Never give up, never remember”,
“That quirky lab assistant from NCIS just reminds me of you”,
“Whistle while you work”,
“Please remember to call us once in  while”,
“Get whatever job you want, just make sure it includes health insurance”,
“Grow your own vegetables. It’s cheaper, I think”,
“It’s okay if you don’t come in first, just make sure you have health insurance”,
“Try to exercise regularly”,
“Sleep is important! Make sure you’re getting enough”,
“It’s okay to cry if you’re feeling sad”,
“Make sure to sweep under your tent so you don’t sleep on rocks”,
“Good tire pressure is essential to optimal mileage”,
“The only acceptable time and place for decaf coffee is never and in the trash”,
“When changing a tire, make sure to tighten the bolts in a starfish pattern”,
“Anyone who tells you that a drink isn’t manly has never known heartache”,
“Call someone if you’re thinking about them. They probably want to hear from you”,
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”,
“Don’t smoke”,
“Try not to make assumptions about people”,
“Don’t trust gas station egg sandwiches”,
“Please don’t pirate games”,
“It’s better to be early than late”,
“Eat a balance meal everyday that includes vegetables, fruit and proteins”,
“Minimize eating fried foods, candy, and sweets”,
“Treat people better than they treat you”,
“Be generous and kind to everyone”,
“Always try your best at everything”,
“Spend less money than you make”,
“Pay your bills early”,
“Look at situations positively”,
“Always try to make others around you happy”,
“Smile as often as you can, it will make others around you feel more comfortable”,
“You’re never too busy or important to be kind to others”

Beating major d*ck.

Some people just like to use their power to bash people and degrade people publicly. Whenever I encounter these people I like to grasp the situation firmly in hand and beat them down. In this case I give you special piece of crap we shall call D*ck. D*ck is a older guy who has worked for a branch of state law enforcement for many years. He was very vocal about being three years away from full state retirement and about his rank in state gov.

I was working as a contractor doing some I.T. work. We had a large group to move the department forward at least 10 years technology wise. It was all hands on deck to prep computers for the incoming new computers and of course setting up the new ones. In my case as a coder/network grunt I was being ‘borrowed’ and more than happy to help.

D*ck was the only jerk out of at least 300 people I had enjoyably encountered. He complained about anything he could figure to complain about and would go over the departments managers heads to complain. Part of what I was asked to do was inventory their software used, directories mapped, and to copy files to their new network folders. Keep in mind we did a copy of the data and not a move. When new computers arrived the network copy served as a way to making sure the data was backed up before it was cloned over to the new system. D*ck was livid that someone touched his computer and swore we deleted a file we could not find.

I was marched up to his office with my management team and the department’s senior. I promptly found his file on his new system (and on the network). I happened to notice that he had newly installed a newsreader but did not say anything about it. I knew if I called him out on it I would get canned and they would not look into it. Instead I opened the reader while D*ck was bashing me in the hallway to his audience and changed his preferences. Now the files would not delete when they were read or deleted. Keeping in mind this was in the late 90’s and the internet was still a new thing for many. A lot of people would download their porn from newsgroups (usenet) by using a newsreader to download everything new dumped in the selected group (think like a folder). Groups would follow a theme or where supposed to. The reader would put all the pieces together so you could see the images or video and copy them to folders. I was made to apologize  in front of him and marched off in shame. D*ck was really throbbing with all of his smugness.

I was passed off from that project to just doing a rework of some DOS based software. I told my suck up manager that a lot of people were downloading and installing software on their own. My manager clicked that it was work we could be tasked with doing to create billable hours and that he could score suckup points with. This in turn created various email distributions and policy updates. I also point out that we need something about appropriate usage - great! The policy also now highlights that any private use on government equipment is subject to the same rules as fraud - perfect. This helps later because there is NO wiggle room for offenders. In turn my manager was more than pleased with me and treated me golden - hell he even bought me lunch.

I quickly forgot all about D*ck and found myself expanding the list of software that needed to be rewritten by me. This kept me busy and extended my contract. My boss was happy, my agency was happy, and my clients were very happy.

Fast forward few months later. I get back to the office and the bosses are there looking for a coworker. They asked me if I knew anything about d*cks new system and I told them HELL no. They walk off and told me if I saw the coworker to send him over.

When my coworker (who was an employee and not a contractor) returned I told him about the managers, my encounter with Major D*ck and tipped him off about the newsreader. My coworkers eyes lit up and he stood straight like a huge weight had been lifted. It turns out that D*ck once again had senior staff watch the 'stupid idiot’ fix the computer that the “tech broke being incompetent’. Surprise - It turns out it was out of disk space and would not re-start. The tech had to boot from a disk and delete temp files just to boot. In front of everyone the tech points out that one directory was filling the drive with images. Once he had everyone’s attention he then popped open some images. Porn immediately filled the screen including some very sketchy stuff from what I hear.

The tech was ushered out and D*ck lost his job. Instead of putting D*ck into jail they covered asses and terminated him. No job, no power, and pension for you D*CK.

Shakespeare (Part I)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Author’s note: This is gonna be a multi-part fic!! I’m really excited for it and would love any and all feedback. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Xo


You aren’t a newbie, but your frazzled appearance might portray you that way.

Autumn air nips at your cheeks as you rush around the corner and continue along the edge of the sidewalk. Your feet carry you around other students who aren’t as pressed for time. They give you amused side-glances  as you hustle into the entrance of the closest brick building.

This was supposed to be your semester, the one where you get to class early and rewrite your notes by hand and get straight As. But one-too-many snoozed alarms later and your first day of classes has become your worst nightmare.

You take the stairs two at a time, and are rushing through the doorway to the second floor when you slam full force into a particularly solid shoulder. You’re knocked off balance and a flurry of papers careen through the air to scatter the floor around you.

Keep reading

STRANGE SENTENCE STARTERS —— for the creative writer in you. Send these in and see what your partner comes up with as a scenario!

*These are completely interchangeable, they’re just in categories to make it easier for all of y’all.

FOR AMIGOS;

  • “How many times are you going to do that, exactly?”
  • “You were right. As per usual.”
  • “Sometimes it’s hard to see the lines you’ve drawn until you’ve crossed them.”
  • “You’re surprised because you have a soft spot for hot blondes.”
  • “Is that – that’s a naked Scarlett Johansson on your fridge.”
  • “You can stay, but for no more than two nights.”
  • “Please don’t look in this drawer. Please.”
  • “I told you not to pick him up, he’s very sensitive.”
  • “Yes. I might have given you rabies. But in my defense, that’s ridiculous and I didn’t.”
  • “I’m sorry, my cell phone data coverage does not cover the bullshit zone you’re in.”
  • “Hey! Give me your pants. Quick, give me your pants.”
  • “No, I’m serious. Stop it right now or I won’t give you the last cookie.”
  • “You think I’m kidding. But I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”
  • “How much would a stripper cost and why so much?”
  • “I’m going to buy you a drink. Next week. On Thursday. When I get paid. Can you swing this one?”
  • “Hippos are hungry, hungry! And you are considerably larger than a small piece of lettuce!”
  • “When I was little, I used to be afraid of mummies. And now look at me. I love dead people!”
  • “I don’t even miss my ex-boyfriends/girlfriends, I just miss my glockenspiel.”
  • “It happens to everyone, you just sell your skirt for some coke.”
  • “Please do not pull your pants down in front of baby Jesus.”
  • “That’s not the phrasing you want to use.”
  • “Because nothing says heterosexuality like a gold sash.”
  • “Please don’t take it out on my boobs.”
  • “When it gets really windy I look like a bizarre combination of Marilyn Monroe and Cousin It.”
  • “We have to change our names and run away to Mexico. It’s the only way. Adios.”
  • “How much money do you have on you?”
  • “Please tell me that’s a raisin and not a tiny hamster shit you’re eating.”
  • “Life is a lot better when you put things on your head.”
  • “For someone who’s not very deep, I’m incredibly not shallow.”

FOR LOVERS;

  • “I need you to remind me what it feels like to love you.”
  • “I love you. What? No I don’t. Forget I said anything.”
  • “I need you to tickle my feet but like, sexually.”
  • “If we got married, would I have to take your last name? Or could we just make up a new one?”
  • “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
  • “I heard you say his/her name in your sleep last night. Want to explain or should I just leave?”
  • “I want to spend the night with you tonight. But I also want to sleep on your side. And without you on the bed. So technically I just want your bed.”
  • “Please don’t be proposing to me in an empty parking lot.”
  • “Stop saying you’re sorry, you stupid fucking broken record. It’s done.”
  • “I’m not jealous, I’m curious. About the things you were doing. With him/her. Without me.”
  • “Your mother’s looks could kill. Actually, are you sure they haven’t before?”
  • “If you’re breaking up with me tonight, can I at least eat first?”
  • “Stop sweating. It’s not attractive during sex, and it’s not attractive now.”
  • “Are you – are you checking me out? In the line for the confessional?”
  • “We have to go. I might have told your mom I’m pregnant. I don’t know why I said that. I’m not.”
  • “So what you’re saying it that you’re snorting sugar to get excited for sex.”
  • “My dog licks better than you do.”
  • “But through every stupid thing you do and say – and those are a lot, by the way – I love you.”
  • “I don’t care if you’re growing another head. I’ll talk to both of them. I love you.”
  • “And I’d take fifty years of not talking to you for just a day of doing so. I promise that’s a compliment.”
  • “I don’t want to hide this anymore. I’m not some dirty little secret, you American Reject.”
  • “This is a bit too dramatic for my taste, so can we skip it and have sex instead?”
  • “I don’t want you to think of me as your personal sex toy.”
  • “Thanks and all, but that makes me feel like a low-class escort, so.”
  • “A kiss in exchange for every nice thing you say about me. Deal?”
  • “Promise me you’re not like him/her. I need to hear it from your mouth. Promise me.”
  • “Look, I’ve had my heart broken before. I’m not ready to let you in just yet. Anywhere.”
  • “Don’t leave me here. Anywhere else, okay, but not here.”
  • “I wish I could say that was the worst sex I ever had, but I’ve had worse.”
  • “I just blew you. Could you look a little happier about it?”
  • “I’m attracted to shiny things, so if it looks like I’m staring at your chest, it’s because I am.”

FOR TEXTERS;

  • [text] This is upsetting my poop.
  • [text] Hey, are you up? If you’re not, can you wake up? I need some help.
  • [text] So it involves feces and large birds.
  • [text] She said that to you? Why?
  • [text] Please come back. I miss you.
  • [text] What are you good for if you’re not gonna bring me ice cream?
  • [text] Can you ignore that last text? It wasn’t meant for you. I’m sorry.
  • [text] …did you just send me a nude?
  • [text] FUCK OFF YOU ONE-EYED WHORE.
  • [text] I don’t know why I said that.
  • [text] Leave it to you to fuck the simplest of requests up.
  • [text] Do we have to go to their wedding? He’s only my first cousin.
  • [text] How much does ‘I love you’ mean to you?
  • [text] I am not stalking you. But you should do something about your bathroom, it’s gross.
  • [text] Please. I need this so badly.
  • [text] I trust you completely.
  • [text] I’m a genius. You’re a peasant. Everything makes sense again.
  • [text] Hey, buddy! Got like, five hundred bucks I can borrow? Times ten.
  • [text] She lost it. She completely lost it. She said her uterus was attacking her bone marrow.
  • [text] I will not get you donuts.
  • [text] Please? I love you.
  • [text] I think I’m gonna go to sleep now, but you keep thinking that.
  • [text] I can’t say this out loud. They might be listening.
  • [text] I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t think he’d duck when the ball came at him, I’m sorry.
  • [text] You’re cute.
  • [text] I just need you to understand how important you are to me.
  • [text] Fuck off.
  • [text] Okay. Guess we’ll leave it at that then.
Android Companion AU

Lucis is an advanced civilization, the crown city of Insomnia is self sustaining and generally safe, but the limited land with which to build on can barely fit the growing population. You are an independent adult who had landed a dream job in the heart of the city, your parents bid you farewell from their farmhouse just east of Lestallum, and now you are living alone in a very crowded, claustrophobic, and constantly noisy business district.

One day, you find an offer of comfort in your solitary life:

Model: NOCT-1.5 (limited number of units produced):

  • This model is the cutting-edge technology of all companions available in the market, the be-all end-all royalty of the trade. it is never advertised because very few people can afford it, but you’re a tech nerd and you’ve heard of the legends
  • It’s usually ridiculously expensive and waaaay out of your range, for some reason, this one is on sharp discount in your local computer shop
  • the clerk tells you it’s on a discount because it has been taken out of the box by a previous owner and returned, but is in top shape otherwise
  • it’s a small investment even after the price cut and you’re seriously trying to talk yourself out of it, but the more you look at the android behind the sheer plastic, the more you are entranced by the sharp features and slim design.
  • a part of you hungers to see what the eyes look like once turned on, and what kinds of apps and functions you can install on such a rare product
  • you take it home, and the moment you plug it- him in, bright piercing eyes glow red for three seconds, and then mellow out to a soft crystal blue

Keep reading

💙🌊Sea witchcraft.🌊💙

🌊A brief introduction🌊
I’ve seen lately that many people are interested in sea witchcraft. But… What is it?

Sea Witchcraft is mainly a practice, although it can be considered a religion sometimes.

This Craft shares some characteristics with Water Witchcraft, as Sea Witches work with different types of water, can work with some weather magic or so, while Sea Witches use also different correspondences related to the ocean, it’s creatures, flora, fauna, it’s cycles. The main difference is that, while Water Witches can use ocean’s energies or even see it as a big pool of sacred water (lol), Sea Witches see the ocean as a really important thing in our world, it is where all life started on Earth, it is one of the first sources of food humanity have known, and it is necessary for life on Earth to continue as we know it: In the water cycle, sea water evaporates and gets purified, then the winds take it somewhere else and it rains*. When it rains, it forms lakes, lagoons, rivers and, if the conditions are given, glaciers*. Without these, life would be surely almost impossible for us. For all these reasons, the ocean’s role is recognized and, in many cases, worshipped.

*: Sometimes it rains on the sea. Also, some places have acid rain, because of pollution, but in normal and natural conditions it wouldn’t occur, so rain is (in most places, where rain is not polluted) drinkable! be careful and check if rain it’s not toxic in your area!

🌊The Craft🌊

💙 The practice by itself it’s open for everyone.

💙 If you want to practice Sea Witchcraft as a religion, you can have water/lunar/sea related deities!

💙 A Sea Witch’s tools can be anything that makes you feel more connected to the ocean’s energies, these can be beautiful things as seashells, algae, watery herbs and crystals, different correspondences for creatures and water, and some more cheap materials as cords, paper for making sigils and really anything you find useful!

🌊How do you start?🌊

The first thing you’ll need it’s a strong love for the sea, done? prefect! then, I can give you some tips for getting started:

💙 As in any other type of witchcraft, you’ll want to read as much as you can: you can start with marine biology and geography, so you get to know the names, and some other data about the oceans that you may find really interesting!

💙 You can also start searching for the most basic tools as a wand, a bowl for water, a bowl for salt and, if you want, some more things as crystals, herbs, seashells, candles or anything you want to use in your craft! Also, a notebook to put all the info you’re going to acquire it’s a really great idea!

💙 In your notebook, now you can write down correspondences of types of water, seashells, colors, herbs, crystals and much more! you can even create your own correspondences of things surrounding you that you may want to use!

💙 Once you feel enough confidence, you can start spellcrafting! Your first spells may involve protection spells, or luck spells, easy things so you can get protected and start getting practice. My personal recommendation for sea witches is an self-iniciation ritual where you, after setting some protections on, present yourself to the ocean and offer your practice to it.

💙 As a Sea Witch, you may want to do some more witchy things daily. Some ideas can be: going to a near beach and collecting seashells or other interesting stuff and helping to keep the beach clean as an offering! Drink a lot of water, do some little chants or short spells for self-care or luck, and you can keep an altar for the sea!

💙 Many Sea Witches work with Lunar Magic, Weather Magic and Knot Magic, so searching for those too may be a good idea!

💙 Remember that Sea Witchcraft is about loving the sea and your strong connection to it, it’s like your home, so participating on raising aware of pollution and ambiental problems that may affect the sea, and doing some things like recycling or cleaning the beach is an awesome offering!

💙 If you want to know more about this practice, I have a whole section about it (My mermaid grimoire, here) and I’ll start posting a whole series of posts about it too, so give it a check! 💙

🌊Love, Nao🌊

Expedition to Sol2487-3 Pt.4

“This is the weirdest ride of my life” noted Xato Nexgrra. I could only consent him. Our platoon of eleven, sitting in a CARDBOX, big enough it could have been a scouting ship, attending to our incapacitated member while being carried by a foreign race’s pup, which had the size of a legitimate skyscraper, stomping through the endless plains. Each step of the tremendous creature echoed in our heads and brought us dozens of IFPS standard steps ahead. With our improvised vessel in one and the smaller vicious gazing beast - a cat, as Dr. Proaxl could tell us after touching the giant pup’s mind - in the other hand, the giant crossed the lands in an astonishing swift manner.

“So exactly how is this giant going to help us?” I asked Dr. Proaxl.
The doc, while easing Loxxar Kraes’ pain by mental attendance as best as she could, answered to me.
“It’s taking us to its home, where we will find shelter, food, medical equipment and - so all your religious deities are at our side - the support of its family. For this it would be great if we all could communicate with them. Mindtouching is really tiresome and I don’t want to translate between you as our leader and this world’s inhabitants the whole time, so… Üprrkl, how’s it going?”
The annoying Pjörecian scientist had gone silent for a while now and hatched on the task Dr. Proaxl had ordered him.
A brilliant move of her, both shutting him up and giving his undoubtedly enormous brain something better to do than analysing the non-existing chances of our survival.
“Not bad, the data you collected from the pup’s mind are feeding our intercom’s translation codes. They are fragmentary, and at first glance I would say this specimen does not understand its own language’s grammatic rules quite well - or those rules are so broken and arbitrary I for myself can’t wrap my brain around their structure - but its quite the basis. Some rudimentary communication with natives should be possible at least, until you are able to widen the database by mindtouching a - let’s say more experienced - specimen.”
“OK, then let’s try it” I said and formed with my forelimbs a funnel before my mouth. “Hey! You!” I yelled towards our ride.
“It’s name is Max” filled Dr. Proaxl me in.
“Hey! Max! Can you understand me?!”
“YE… I… UN… U…!” The roaring voice echoed in our whole bodies and stressed the intercom’s abilities.
“Maybe I should build in a filter that pitches the tune up and the volume down” suggested Üprrkl. “Wait a moment.” He manipulated his own intercom and shared the changes to the others. “Now.”
“I’ll try again, Max!” I shouted again. “We couldn’t understand you! Say something, please!”
“CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME NOW!!!?”
We flinched under the noise.
“You aren’t too quit, you are too loud! Volume down, please!”
“Oh, sorry. Better?”
“That’s it. Good work, Üprrkl. Ok, Max, we can understand you now. How far is it to your home?”
“Why? We’re here!”

Due to the sunset and the speed, we hadn’t even noticed the sudden difference in the scenery. We entered some gigantic building and the reddish yellow light of the sun changed to the cold blue shining of electric lights. Of course this building had to be gigantic, given the fact the giant carrying us - Max – was only a pup, the house of its family must have been astronomic to our standards. It was just reasonable. But nevertheless we were struck speechless, for this building was for real taller as you could see.
Max brought us in through a huge gate – or was it a simple door? It was archaic, moving around a pivot without any means of electromotoric assistance. Then he brought us upwards by stairs into his room. Beside the electric lights there were no proofs of advanced technologies. At least those giants seemed to be far away from space travel and so they posed no threat for the IFPS for now.
“Wait here, I’ll get some food and medicine. What do you need?” asked Max, the giant.
“Something to prevent inflammation and a narcotic against pain” answered Dr. Proaxl. As a bodyless being, it was only natural for here to ignore the offered food.
So I added to her request: “Some water and something filling and easy to swallow, please.”
Max showed quite the troubled face, but nevertheless left us alone in his room. Thank Xaleates he took that “cat” with him, wouldn’t have wanted to be left alone with that.

After a short while we heard those gigantic steps approaching again, but this time it seemed to be four legs.
“Please Mom”, we heard Max’ voice from behind the door, “just promise me you don’t freak out!”
“Maxwell, I dare you, if you took in a spider or a snake, you’ll sleep in the garage tonight!”
The door swung open and a way taller giant came in, the head covered in lots and lots of those swirly filaments nearly every living thing here had – hair, as Dr. Proaxl told us.
The bigger giant glimpsed at us.
“Quick!” insisted Dr. Proaxl, “Wave one of your forelimps and bare your fangs! It’s a gesture of greetings.”
We did as she told us – but…
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…!!!!!”
My eyesight went blank, my hearing broke down, my intercom went sparkling and – I admit it with disgust – I had lost control of some of my digestive organs for a moment. When I regained my senses, I found more than half of my men on the ground, struggling for breath. And even Dr. Proaxl, whose nebulous body usually shimmered in a sparkling yellow white, now smouldered in a nauseous looking green.
“WHA… THE… HE…HA…!”
My hearing was still burrowed under a constant screaming noise, but I registered the muffled rough roar coming from the gate. And through my limbs I felt the tremors of a vast approaching third giant.
Just when would this superlative end? The third one was even taller than the second, by at least two heads. And I mean their heads, not mine. It gestured to the second, the second to Max, and Max gestured to us. And all of them made those annoying roaring noises. My head went numb.
Then finally, the biggest one made a wide gesture and the noises stopped. I remember the face of that giant coming nearer and nearer until it filled all of my field of vision. Then my mind went black.

When I came to my senses again, the biggest giant was talking to a still green shimmering Dr. Proaxl, but I couldn’t follow their talking, so I interrupted them.
“How long have I…?”
“Just seconds, captain. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, you are the captain?” asked the gigantic giant. He oppressed his voice with one of his limbs and tried to be as quiet as he could. Plenty of noise still, nevertheless. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is Captain Bcao Kjuk Mrra, Leading Officer of our expedition ship, and this here is Dr. Smith, Max’ father and biologist of this planet the natives call “Earth”” introduced Dr. Proaxl.
“I apologize in behalf of my wife” began the giant. “Our voices must have quite the destructive force to your bodies. We intended no harm to you, we were just… overwhelmed by your appearance. I mean, it’s just natural, that someday, eventually, someone from out there… I mean now, that after all this time finally…” The giant began quiet, but unknowingly it got louder and louder, like a little boy who couldn’t hide his joy about a new toy. Then Dr. Smith coughed slightly and got quiet again. “Ahem… my apologies. Let’s concentrate at the task at hand. Max said, one of your group is injured?”
“Yes, Loxxar Kraes. He got wounded by a … hamster is what Max mind called it” answered Dr. Proaxl.
“Oh you encountered a field hamster? God, you’re lucky the crop’s plenty. In spring, when it’s their season and the food resources are scarce, they go savage for any intruder in their yard. Some fairly random facts the least of my people knew, but for someone in your… position… it would have been crucial intel. Ok, I see. That breastplate absorbed most of the impact. Some sturdy material you got there. The wound is… what’s that?”
“A force field to keep the wound steril” answered the misty Doc.
“Fascinating” mumbled the giant Doc.
Two in their element. I decided to leave them be. Then the giant Doc asked.
“How do you stand alcohol?”
“For disinfecting? Isopropanol should do…”
“No, no, I mean, how do you stand drinking ethanol?”
Did that monster just say “Drinking ethanol”?!?!

Mistakes and Apologies l Peter Parker

Summary: The Spiderman makes a fatal mistake when trying to stop the Vulture that could cost him his suit. And Peter Parker finds himself in the midst of apologizing to the reader about his unexplained absences recently…

Warning: spoilers ands some language

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Type: The continuing story!!!

A/N: Only one more part left after this!!!

Part One Here / Part Two Here / Part Three Here / Part Four Here / Part Six Here


Originally posted by brokencxstiel

On Monday, everyone was safely back at school and everyone was ranting about the Spiderman. Peter smiled to himself when he would hear anybody talk about him. 

He pasted by a few people in the hallway and meet up with Ned. “Dude! What is it like being famous when nobody knows it’s you? It’s crazy!” Peter smiled smugly and tugged the straps on his backpack. “Should we tell anyone?”

Peter’s face dropped and he shook his head. “No,” Peter said seriously.

“Should I tell anyone?”

“No, dude. That’s not a good idea,” Peter snickered.

“What about Y/N?”

“Well, w-what about her?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell her?”

“N-No, no, no. No, she doesn’t need to know.” Ned narrowed his eyes at his best friend. 

“Alright, well let’s go to class,” Ned nudged Peter in the arm.

“I’m not going to class.” Ned rolled his eyes and approached him again just as the bell rang.

“But you are already in so much trouble for ditching the decathlon.”

“Dude, listen. I figured it out. The wings guy is stealing from damage control and what he takes from damage control, that’s how he builds the weapons,” Peter explained in a hushed tone. “All I have to do is catch him!”

“But we have a Spanish quiz!”

“Ned, I am probably never going to come back here. Mr. Stark is moving the Avengers upstate so…when I bring this guy in.”

“Dude! You wanna be a high school drop out?”

“I am so far behind high school!” We turned around and found the principal with his hands on his hips.

“Parker, my office.”


Peter groaned as he took a seat in detention that day. The teacher turned on the old television and put in a Captain America session on following the rules. The Captain himself appeared on the television and took a seat.

“So, you got detention. You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong but  the question is, how are you going to make things right?” Peter couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed his bag and rushed out of the room.

“Hey, where are you going? Come back here,” the teacher said, barely giving a fight. He didn’t seem to care. 

Peter quietly walked through the hallways, hoping he wouldn’t get caught again. He made his way to a wall of lockers and lifted it up with one hand. He reached underneath and grabbed a bottle of his custom made web fluid.

He smiled to himself and made his way out of the school. He quickly ran home and searched the house for his aunt. Though, when finding it empty, he made his way into his room and put on his Spiderman mask.

He sat down in his desk chair and propped his legs up on his desk. “Hey Karen. What’s up?”

“Hey, Peter! How was your Spanish quiz?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could help me. If was trying to figure out who the guys under the bridge were that night but I can only kinda remember part of a license plate,” he shrugged.

“I can run facial recognition on the footage of that encounter,” Karen stated.

“Footage?”

“Yes, Peter. I record everything you see.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Like all the time,” Peter asked.

“It’s called the Baby Monitor Protocol,” Peter dropped his pen and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, of course it is. Just roll it back to last Friday,” he instructed.

“With pleasure.” Sure enough, a video of Peter’s point of view showed up and Peter watched himself play in front of the mirror. Peter was wearing his mask but had his ordinary pajamas on.

“Hey everyone! Yeah, kick ass party. Hey, what’s up Y/N? Peter’s told me a lot about you,” he winked in the mirror. “Wow, you look pretty hot in that dress but I think it would be hotter if you weren’t wearing–. No, no wait. That’s really inappropriate. Don’t say that. Don’t say that.”

“No, no, no. This is just me messing around. Go later in the day. Later in the day,” Peter said, waving his hand.

“It is I, Thor, son of Odin,” he said in the recording, holding up a small wooden hammer.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. That’s definitely not it,” Peter told Karen.

“Your impressions are very funny,” Karen said sweetly.

“Fast forward to the arms dealer,” Peter said. He stood to his feet and Karen fast forwarded the day to after the night of the party. “The two on the right, who are they?”

“Searching law enforcement data bases. No records found on those two individuals,” Karen said.

“Nothing?”

“The other individual is identified as Aaron Davis. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens.”

“Let’s pay him a visit.”


Y/N’s mother set down a plate full of food in front of her daughter for dinner. She took her own seat at the table and began to eat the food as the tv played in the background. 

“Tonight’s story, the Spiderman saves the Staten Island Ferry from slitting in two,” the tv showcased the boat from afar and Spiderman holding it together with his webs in the middle.

“Oh my god,” Y/N’s mother said. “That’s insane. First D.C, now the Ferry. Its scary to think what this world is coming to. Thank god for people like the Spiderman.”

“Yeah. Thank god for Spiderman,” Y/N mumbled to herself, gazing down at her food and picking through the stuff she didn’t want to eat. Her phone rang and she gazed down at the unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Y/N L/N?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“My name is May Parker. I am Peter Parker’s aunt,” the woman explained.

“Oh, yes. Of course. How can I help you, Miss Parker?”

“Is Peter with you?”

“No, why?” Y/N heard May sigh on the other end. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

“Peter never came home from school today. I called the school and they said he skipped out of detention. They also said he left the hotel in D.C. and missed the decathlon. I called Ned’s mother and he is not with him. I called everyone he knows and nobody knows where he is. I’m just really scared right now,” May said, nearly on the verge of tears.

“Miss Parker, I am sure Peter is alright but if it makes you feel any better, I will go out and look for him,” Y/N said willingly.

“No, no, dear. I don’t want Peter worrying about you when he gets back…if he gets back,” May stated.

“He will come back.” May thanked her anyways and then hung up. Y/N sighed and set her phone down on the table. She gazed at her mother, who’s eyes were still set on the tv.

“You spot something like that, you turn and you run the other way,” Y/N’s mother commented, pointing to the television.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”


Peter sadly trudged through the hallways of his apartment, in some baggy pajamas Tony had given him after he took away his suit. Yes, the suit was gone. It had been a long day.

After a short visit with Aaron Davis, Peter was led to the Staten Island Ferry where the buyers and sellers of the weapons were suppose to meet. Things didn’t go as planned and Peter found the flying bird man there as well. Things went catastrophic and the boat ended up slitting in two. Thanks to the arrival of Iron Man, nobody was severely hurt.

Afterwards, Tony had a talk with Peter and determined that the boy needed to be punished. “But I am nothing without this suit,” Peter begged.

“If you are nothing without this suit then you shouldn’t have it,” Tony said and now here Peter was, without his suit, walking home in his pajamas.

He knocked on the door of his apartment and soon after, May opened the door. At the sight of her nephew, she gave him a warned look and walked back into the apartment, Peter following.

“I have been calling you all day and you didn’t answer your phone. You can’t do that. Then this ferry thing happen. I call five police stations. Five! I called five of your friends. I called Ned’s mother, I called Y/N and they didn’t know where you were–”

“Honestly, May. I am fine,” Peter said. She stood to her feet and gazed at him in disbelief.

“Cut the bullshit! I know you left detention, I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night. That’s not fine. Peter, you have to tell me what’s going on. Just lay it out, it’s just me and you.”

With tears in his eyes, he whispered: “I lost the Stark Internship.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I just thought I could work really hard. And he–you know–I didn’t–I screwed up,” he said, sitting down.

“Oh, Peter. It’s okay. It’s okay,” May said, comforting him. 

“I am sorry I made you worry,” Peter mumbled.

“You know I am not trying to ruin your life,” May added. “I used to sneak out too. You need to stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter clarified, nodding his head. “Yeah I know.”


Over the next week, Peter made up for his absence from school with detention every day after school. He forgot about being Spiderman, seeing as though the only thing he had left was his old homemade suit. He focused on school again. He made school come first, then Spiderman.

He exited the bathroom one day after school and stopped in his tracks when Y/N came into sight. “Hey,” Peter said. She approached him and smiled slightly.

“Hey.”

“I-I thought you had chemistry this period,” Peter said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, I am just doing some stuff for Homecoming.” He moved in front of her to cut off her way of escape.

“Hey, look. I–uh–I just wanted to apologize about the whole decathlon thing. I knew how much it meant to you and I was stupid to miss it,” Peter apologized. Y/N shook her head.

“Its fine. Last week’s decathlon was the most important thing but then I almost died,” Y/N said.

“N–No, I–I j–just I–I just mean it was not cool especially because it meant so much to you. I should have been there to support you b-because…I–I like you.” He avoided eye contact.

“I know.”

He looked up in surprise. “You do?”

“You are terrible at keeping secrets,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“I think you would be surprised,” Peter laughed.

“But…I also know because…Spiderman himself told me you had a crush on me,” Y/N stated. Peter looked down at his hands and Y/N’s smile faded. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing to worry you about. I just want to let you know, that I am always gonna be here from now on. You don’t have to worry about me slipping away or sneaking out. It won’t happen again.” He reassured her. “Well, I–I uh gotta get to class.”

He started to back away and Y/N nodded her head. “Okay.”

“I would say we should hang out but I am going to be in detention for…ever,” he gulped hard, holding the hall pass in his hands awkwardly.

“Uh-huh.”

“But uh…I guess you already have a date to Homecoming,” he said sorrowfully.

“Flash asked me,” Y/N said, looking to the floor.

“Oh, yeah. Okay, cool. Yeah. Yeah,” Peter tried to play it off cool. “That’s fine.”

“I turned him down.”

“Y-You did?”

“Again, I was kinda waiting for the right guy to ask me, plus Flash is a total jerk,” Y/N added.

“Yeah, yeah. He really is,” Peter laughed. Y/N nodded and tilted her head to the side. “W-Well do you…do you wanna…go with me?” A smile played on Y/N’s lips.

“I thought you would never ask.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Daddy. (Joshua Smut)

Hey everybody  i am so so sorry that i’m so late, we moved houses and there is nO FUCKING INTERNET  so i had to live on shitty data, it’s been hell for me but i know it’s even more hellish for everyone considering you’re all so thirsty.  but yeah, so i hope you enjoy this i’m so sowwy it took so long but it’s here, i had a great time writing this daddy one, AND I WILL BE HONEST I SCREAMED RANDOMLY WHILE WRITING THIS JUST SAYING. I’ve been working on many stories at once, so that i’ll be able to finish them at the same time so i’m working really hard, PRAISE ME PLS.  also, thank you all for being so patient, i know it’s hard, also fucking whAT. there are so many of everyone now.  we can’t help but feel overwhelmed and happy by how many you guys are, what should we call you ugh. I love you all so much, and honestly in my opinion this 2017 will be a good year for this blog we will improve ourselves in order to make everyone reading happy/horny, maybe this year juuust maybe, you’ll be able to get to know us better.  well only if you all want to.

ALSO IF ITS NOT THAT GOOD IM SORRY BUT I DID MY BEST SO, IM SORRY AHSHUSDBIDBD

also credits to shwua for the gif
-admin kate x

warning: contains daddy kink, rough sex, spanking and SIN. if this ain’t your thing then we have a lot of other stuff to choose from.

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A Certain Elegance

@gdesertsand made an awesome mafia!au and felt inspired to write this scene. They made an ask blog about it @ask-mafia-lance-salazar. Go check it out!


“Lance. Come in, Lance.“ Shiro’s commanding voice rang in his ear.

“What’s up, boss man?“ Lance answered with a casual tone that always annoyed most of the paladins.

“Where the hell are you, Lance?“ As if on cue, Pidge snapped at him in their comms.

Lance grinned at the Galra soldier he managed not to kill during his infiltration in one of the control rooms. He shot both of the Galra’s knee caps just to be sure the alien won’t run away from him, and for the sake of precaution, Lance decided to tie the Galra up in one of the metal chairs in the room. And because he felt like it, he stuffed the Galra’s mouth with some cloth he cut out away from one of the fallen Galra soldiers on the floor. 

“I’m in one of the control rooms, Pigeon, cool your jets.” Lance whispered. “I’m a bit outnumbered but I can handle a couple of Galra soldiers on my own.” He even panted for added effect. They had to believe that he’s a little preoccupied so they’ll leave him alone, so he can do what he was known for back on earth.

“Are you sure, bro? I’ll be there in a few minutes if you need some assistance.“ Hunk, the bestest friend he could ever have, asked.

“Nah man, I can handle a few of these aliens. Besides, you and Keith have a mission. Protect the mullet head, yeah?“ Lance continued to whisper, shooting a few blasts from his bayard to sell his story even more. “I gotta go, guys, I think I just got found out.“ Lance pressed a button on his helmet which cut off his frequency away from the team. It was an altercation he made himself and no one seems to mind not hearing from him, so Lance figured why not.

“Now, we’re alone.“ Lance took off his helmet and placed it on the control board. He shook his head and massaged his scalp, his hair finally out of the confines of hi sweaty helmet. He made his way towards the Galra soldier who glared at him, yellow eyes glinting. “Comfy?”

The Galra mumbled against the gag in its mouth. Lance simply took another chair and sat in front of the tied up alien that was his prisoner at the moment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lance reached forward, “Ooh what is this?” He brushed his fingers against the Galra’s pelvis, which made the Galra groan and saliva dripped past the alien’s lips, and took hold of a hilt of a blade.

“I didn’t know you have one of these.” Lance inspected the wicked sharp blade, the black and violet surface catching the light, giving it an eery glow. He wielded the blade from side to side just like what his older brother taught him, slicing the air with finesse and speed. The Galra stared at him, not believing the way lance wielded a bladed weapon. 

“You must be wondering where I learned to do this.” Lance continued to slash at the air but he was now slicing closer and closer to the Galra’s blown up knees. 

“Wanna know a secret?” Lance leaned forward, his hands on either side of the Galra’s head, caging the alien. 

“I’m a Salazar.” 

Lance smiled, a smile he rarely used these days. This smile was the kind of smile he only wore when he’s at home, where violence and mind games were raw, there is where he thrived and showed his colors. The smile- a predatory show of teeth- he always wear when things are about to get messy and go Lance’s way. It was a the Young Demon’s smile.  

Lance sighed in relief. There was something liberating from saying his family’s name, something every Salazar needs to be proud about. It’s like he never left the vast household that was his home.

“That name may mean nothing to you, but back on Earth?“ Lance languidly played with the knife, mere inches away from the Galra’s face. “The mention of that name can make grown men tremble in fear. But I guess here in outer space, the Salazar name doesn’t hold that much weight. I’d like to change that.“ He swiped the blade against the Galra’s face, drawing blood.

“Shall we begin?”


“I repeat,“ Lance situated himself between the Galra’s legs, the knife slicing through the Galra’s purple fur, digging deeper and deeper as he dragged the knife across the alien’s chest, “the Champion was captured with two other humans, one was even brought to the fighting pits. Where are they?“

“I have told you over and over again, Blue Paladin, I do not know! Please, please, I do not know. Please believe me.“ The Galra, Joras, begged. His yellow eyes were dull and wet with tears.

“I want to believe you, Joras, believe me I do.” Lance stopped his slicing and sighed at the alien. It’s time, he thought. Lance laid his hand against Joras’ cheeks with enough tenderness to calm a frightened lamb before the slaughter.

Joras nuzzled against Lance’s palm. Hook, line, and sinker.

“But I checked your credentials, Joras. You are one of the major generals in the Galran forces. You were the one in charge of the Champion when he was in the fighting pits.“ Lance wiped the tears that were flowing down the Galra’s furry cheeks, and cupped Joras’ face with his hands. “So you are either lying to me or you take me for a fool.“

Lance looked at the Galra in disappointment and frowned. He leaned in and kissed one of the slices he made on Joras’ cheek. “Which is it, Joras?”

“I-I…“ Joras refused to look at the Blue Paladin, confused on what to say.

“I get it. Really I do.“ Lance lifted his leg and placed it on Jora’s side, straddling the alien who spluttered when Lance sat comfortably on Joras’ lap. The earlier venom in Lance’s voice as he cut through Joras’ skin was gone and was replaced by a warm, velvety smooth tone that washed away Joras’ fear. Small comforts, he thought. “Most people take me for a fool, and I don’t blame them for it. I suppose it’s my fault for letting them think of me that way.“

“No! I take you not for a fool!“ Joras didn’t know what came over him for suddenly exclaiming what he was thinking, but the frown on the Blue Paladin’s face was gone which urged him to speak more. “You have successfully infiltrated this control room, one of the most secured control room in this ship. You have killed all of my soldiers who were the top of their class and was handpicked by me. And you have me between your legs, Blue Paladin, you have me bruised and bleeding, begging you to have mercy on me. You are no fool.” 

Lance didn’t expect Joras to break easily that’s why he took his time with him. He remembered his brother saying: “There’s so much more to torture and acquiring information, little brother. It’s not just punching, slicing, and stabbing- though those methods get the job done. There’s a certain elegance to it.” At first he didn’t understand what he meant, but as time went by, he started to understand the intricacies of torture.

Lance learned that pain was only one of the methods you can use to break people. There were other means to make people talk, his brother stated as he typed in his laptop. And he found out that the best and full proof plan of action was to mentally and emotionally break them. Lance learned that pain and blackmail can only take you too far, that harming or intimidating a person doesn’t make them break. So Lance found a new method of torture, a method that works in his favor.

“Thank you, Joras.“ The Young Demon smiled. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I need to know where they are. “ Lance cupped Joras’ face and tilted it up so he can meet his eyes. “These people, they’re important to me. Don’t you want to make me happy? Don’t you want me to smile again?“

He can see the hesitation in Joras’ yellow eyes. He was there, he’s on the midst of breaking, he just needs a little push. 

“Please don’t make me hurt you. I hated hurting you, Joras.“ 

The best way to break people was to make them care. Make them give a damn about themselves, about you, about your purpose. It doesn’t matter as long as you involve them in the process, make them feel that you care about them too. So that’s what Lance did.

Every time he sliced Joras’ skin, he apologized. When he punched him in the gut, he had to explain why he was doing it. When he buried his finger in the hole he made on his knees, Lance expressed reluctance to do it. He made the Galra feel that he was forced to do this, that it wasn’t his choice to hurt him. He made him believe that by sharing what he knows, he’s stopping the hurt that’s inflicted on them both. Lance made him care.

“Data pad.“ Joras whispered, “I promise you I do not know the people you speak of, but with my data pad and my clearance, you can search through the prisoner database from the time the Champion was captured to when he escaped.“

“Really?“ Joras nodded. He was clearly relieved when lance put away the knife but there was tension in Joras’ shoulders. “See that wasn’t so hard was it? All I wanted from you was information. I never wanted to hurt you, Joras, you should know that. “

Lance stood up to fish out the data pad from Joras’ suit. He turned it on and was not surprised to see that it doesn’t have a password. He was far from understanding the Galran alphabet but he was pretty sure their resident techy can figure it out. He placed the data pad inside his body suit’s pocket and went for his helmet.

“Thank you for your help, Joras. Really, thanks a lot. I know this may sound cruel but know that I have the right intentions in mind. Do you want me to kill you?“ He didn’t put on his helmet just yet. He simply held it in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his bayard. 

Joras looked at him funny, but his shoulders were trembling again.

“I know you know what’s coming to you. Zarkon doesn’t appreciate snitches, just look at what happened to Thace. And what’s worse, Zarkon will just dispose of you like you were nothing. He will erase all of the things you have done in service to the empire, let people remember you as a traitor.“ Lance gave all that he had to not laugh right in front of Joras’ face. The strong and mighty Galra he met moments ago was now broken, shaking and scared. 

“But if you die now, die on my hands, I can make it painless. I will let the entire universe remember you as the Galra who helped the Blue Paladin rescue the humans that ended the war against Zarkon. You will die a hero, Joras, don’t you want that?“

Lance already knew the answer but still he waited for the Galra to give his consent. It was the least he can do.

“You will make them remember me as a hero?“

“Yes, Joras. And even more.“

Joras looked dejected. Lance can see the resolve in his eyes as well as understanding. He knew that it was pointless to live when the moment the Paladins of Voltron leave their ship, he’s as good as dead. The higher ups will check the cameras and see that he was tortured, they’ll even hear him confess to Lance about his data pad. He will be dubbed as the Galra soldier who was tortured by the Blue Paladin, who begged for his life, an embarrassment to the Galra as a whole.

“Alright. It was nice to meet you ,Blue Paladn Lance. It is an honor to die on your hands.“

“Goodbye, Joras.“


There you go. What do you think? I admit it’s a little messy but there’s something with an evil Lance that I quite like. I’m a sucker for evil geniuses and even more for Lance so why the hell not.

Cure (4)

Bucky x reader

Notes: trigger warnings! Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, swearing, injuries, memory loss, recuperating, fluff, angst, smut.

A/N: Part four! Bucky goes to see Banner and finds out more about his past with Y/N, while they find out about that something in his head. 

Oh, and things get sexy. 

Originally posted by nerdyfandomimagines

Banner is nice enough. He keeps calling me James, though, and it’s a little confusing. Everyone here keeps calling me Bucky, and getting used to that one name was tough enough as it is. Now that I remember.. some difficult times, it’s a little exhausting to remind myself to answer to ‘James’ as well.

But he’s nice and lets me know what everything he’s using is for, so I decide to keep my trap shut and just roll with it. They’re trying to help me, after all. See how long it’ll take before I regain all of my memories, and I can’t wait for that to finally fucking happen. 

A voice from the ceiling startles the living shit out of me when Doctor Banner asks some one called Friday what my brain-scan tells her.

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bellaandtheinfinitesadness  asked:

Like idk if you do request or ideas or whatever, but an au where 2017 dan is teaching the reader (or 2009 phil), how to fuck 2009 dan. Would actually be awesome.

Sorry for the long ass wait. If you have trouble reading om mobile, open in your phone browser y’all.

Dan Howell has always had a problem with finishing things. There’s a file on his computer with an endless list of unfinished video ideas, a half-completed photo board he started about a year ago pushed under his bed, and about five songs on piano that he’s only taught himself a quarter of the way through. He’s never been great at finishing things he’s started, so it’s no surprise that he’s the same when it comes to sex.

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When I first joined the studyblr community, I was taken aback with the amount of studyblrs posting photos of their planner and their bullet journal spreads. I’ve only known and been in the fandom side of Tumblr for years, so I found it really cool that there are others who share the same appreciation for keeping things organized and staying productive.

I began to post my own planner spreads and since then, I would receive a lot of messages every day about planners/bullet journals and how to set them up. I decided to create this series to give you an overview of the art of using a planner or a bullet journal (right on time for the new year!) and address if not all, most, of your questions. Hopefully, as we progress through the series, you’ll find that keeping track of your tasks and staying organized isn’t as hard and tiring as it seems!

In this first part of the Plan and Play series, I’ll be covering the basics of planners, bullet journals, and planning in general. So let’s start: a planner and a bullet journal, what’s the difference?

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“What, are you gonna look up more anime, or are you strictly into Dick now?”

A lengthy exploration of Dean Winchester as a consistently queer character, thank to themes he embodies with his core characterisation of occupying both sides of binary traits.

(aka the reason why I lazily shove random things into my “Dean vs cake” tag with no explanation, written out while on a 8hr train journey)

The writing of Dean is of a character split between endless examples of duality, moments of characterisation which have stark opposites (either generally accepted or made up into a false dichotomy by the show) where he appears to embody elements of both at all times. Generally, the less-expected or pleasant part is something he resists admitting liking or labelling himself as.

He may be described as a killer while being shown to be the most compassionate character by his actions in the same episode; his projection of himself as a dumb grunt has been so successful that we have to scrape up lists of dozens of examples to prove his intelligence in arguments, despite one of the most-used examples being in only the fourth episode but is cited all the time to prove he’s not the stupid brother in contrast to Sam’s college-educated introduction leaving a lasting impression there; a lesser example of Dean wobbling between sides of a duality includes his strict favouritism of pie being shown in stark contrast to cake as if he must surely hate it, having declared himself for pie; and of course his frequently shown interest in women is contrasted with extremely consistent queer subtext implying that Dean is attracted to men as well.

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Who Is Prometheus?

It’s been awhile since I’ve done this, but I thought I’d dive back into the world of spec. Bear with me. We might be rusty, but this is a natural byproduct of talking Arrow with @callistawolf​ for over an hour. The brain swims with possibilities.

I’ve made no secret about my frustration over the Prometheus storyline. 

Primarily because A) we didn’t get a reveal in the midseason finale and B) the back story on Prometheus was, in my opinion, spectacularly lame.

My reasons are thus: The Big Bad is always a crucial element in Arrow’s season arc. He/She is the dark half of Oliver’s hero’s journey for that season. It is monumentally important that the audience connect to the Big Bad. It is monumentally important that we are allowed to get to know him or her, so we can understand his or her motivations. This ultimately leads to a greater understanding of where Oliver needs to go in his overall evolution.

Not revealing who Prometheus is essentially keeps a wall between him and the audience. His more of an archetype. A voice box, with a skill level to match Oliver, who’s more of an omnipresent figure than an actual “face to face” opponent. He’s the Arrow equivalent of the Boogey Man. We saw some of this with Ra’s Al Ghul in Season 3 and Slade in Season 2, but Arrow revealed their characters in both mid seasons finale to allow the audience to connect to the them and move beyond the omnipresent archetype.  They have not done that with Prometheus us and failing to reveal his identity simply prolongs this disconnect.

Arrow then tries to temper this disconnect by providing us with some information about Prometheus. He is the son of  Claybourne, a man who was on Robert Queen’s list. A villain Oliver killed in Season 1. I had both my mother and husband, both ardent casual viewers, ask me if Claybourne was someone we knew about in Season 1. Nope. Never heard of him. They just plucked a name from obscurity. The connection to Season 1 is… thin. Even, Diggle’s “you’re killing can lead to unforeseen consequences” statement was so heavy handed it was cringe worthy. This all just feels plopped in.

And that’s my beef. We’ve been told over and over and over again how Prometheus is a villain they had to wait FIVE YEARS to do. This places some mythological like level to S5′s Big Bad, like he’s been lying in wait and Arrow has just been waiting for the right time to pull the trigger.  So this all boils down to Prometheus needed five years to train? Eh.

Then, of course, there’s how Team Arrow discovered Prometheus was Claybourne’s son. They only discovered this information because Prometheus wanted them to. 

It was like a play. He set up the scene and Oliver was merely an actor in the show Prometheus was directing. None of it felt real and yet… Oliver and team believed it hook line and sinker. Prometheus reenacts a kill from Season 1. He provides a baby photo and Claybourne’s ashes and TA DA! We have the identity of our bad guy. There wasn’t a lot of critical thinking from Team Arrow. This was all handed to them at a very specific time and in a very specific way.  And everyone’s just all, “Cool. Makes sense.”

WHAT??? Where’s my beloved Scooby Gang? Where’s the examination? WHERE’S THE DISTRUST OLIVER? At the very least I’d expect that from you, but homeboy is “Prometheus is, above all things, an honest foe.”

MADNESS I TELLL YOU. MADNESS. Hence the screaming and throwing things at my television.  Then there’s the overly dramatic, almost Greek like tragedy way, Prometheus orchestrated Billy’s death.  

True to his name! Dude is a Drama Queen. He’s not particularly concerned with killing Oliver at the moment, but he’s going to make his life a soap opera. Why? THE FUN.

So, I’m calm now. We’ve watched the aftermath of Billy’s death. We’re seeing the path Felicity is going down. 

There’s been some incredibly telling things revealed about that journey. So, instead of accepting Prometheus at face value (as Arrow so desperately wants us to do), I decided to actually acknowledge the man for who he is… a Puppet Master.  This is all one, big, massive misdirect. It is elegant. It is cunning. It is twisted. And it will touch everyone in Oliver’s life.

The reason why Arrow didn’t reveal Prometheus’ identity is because this is the season long mystery.  The identity reveal is their big card. It’s the “Who’s in the grave?” reveal. It’s the “What is the Undertaking?” reveal. They aren’t letting us connect to the Big Bad because WE ALREADY KNOW HIM. And when he is revealed it will be a light bulb moment. A moment worth five years waiting for.

A lot of this has been theorized by many other people for many other months. I’ve seen so many specs I can’t remember them all, but this was the most recent. Added a layer to the Prometheus myth I missed and I loved it. However, I think Calli and I have pieced together a couple of the holes that were hanging us up on a few items. So, let’s dig in…

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Pen Pal

The majority of Elsewhere U. students really interest me. Those who live in a liminal space and refuse to see anything out of the ordinary.

This is my first time writing in second-person POV (it happened on accident) and I hope you like it.

————–

It started dully enough. Someone had written ‘Hello’ in the bathroom (in fancy curly purple script, so extra). Juvenile, but it was the single-stall Everyone bathroom in the second sub-basement of the library, so you were willing to write it off as a bored freshman or something. And maybe you were a little bored yourself. Or lonely. Because you replied. You bought a green Sharpie specifically to respond to the purple word on the light orange paint.
‘Hey. W/ u studying?’

You went to check the little-used bathroom a few days later.
'Humans’ was written in beautiful purple handwriting under your green message.
'Psych major, cool. I’m eng-his double major’
You hoped the janitors wouldn’t clean off or paint over this little conversation. It was a little like having a pen pal. A couple days later you had another reply in purple swirls.

'Would you do something for me?’
The request was weird, but so were college kids; and you could always just not do it, you didn’t know who you were talking with, and were pretty sure you weren’t being followed. Like 75% sure. 70% sure.
'W/ u need?’
'Bells NOT silver candy cream beads appreciation’
It took you a few seconds to understand that the beautiful words written at all angles on the wall were a list. (Seriously? Upside down?) It was a pretty cheap request, aside from 'appreciation’, but most college kids lived off dark humor, so you didn’t pay it much mind. Maybe they were doing a psych-sociology experiment; you didn’t want to screw up their data.

You got some cheap gold-painted aluminum jingle bells, thread, and a package of plastic beads at the craft store. They were the same kind of cheap beads a lot of the art majors wore on necklaces, so you figured that’s what your pen pal wanted. At the grocery store you added a box of unflavored single coffee creamers and a bunch of candy, including caramel with creme centers (you couldn’t tell if 'cream’ and 'candy’ were meant to be combined on the bathroom wall or not). You brought it to the single stall bathroom in the second sub-basement of the library and left the bag in the corner. You threw out the receipts, thought a second, then tore out a piece of paper from your notebook and grabbed your green marker.
'I appreciate you :)’ You wrote, messily folding the paper into a crane, the only origami you know, and leaving it on top. 

You went back to your dorm, finding a small pile of pretty-looking junk on a huge leaf on your pillow. Your roommate wasn’t there. Must be a weird prank or some new internet challenge or something. You sorted through the odds and ends. Pretty rocks, tiny animals carved from wood, marbles, pieces of broken safety glass cracked through with green-blue and so fragile that some crumbled off the sides when you picked them up (you cleaned the miniscule slivers of broken glass off your pillow with some duct tape)… Eventually you found a little purple origami turtle. You opened it to find writing inside. 

'Your assistance is appreciated*’
There was no other asterisk anywhere else on the paper, so it must have been a stylistic choice, not a grammatical one. You put it out of your mind and carefully refolded the turtle and set everything on your desk to deal with later. Maybe you’d give it to an art student, they always seemed to have little trinkets like that. Or trade, the student body really liked trading, or maybe most colleges full of poor college kids were like that.

———–

In the week before midterms you suddenly awoke one night. You almost groaned and rolled over to preserve what sleep you could, but when you grabbed your blanket your hand landed on paper. You squinted at the post-it in the dim light, making out swirly fancy handwriting. Across the room, your roommate was asleep. Whatever. You stuck it to your phone and went back to sleep.

You read the post-it the next morning.
‘*I can help’

“What does that mean?” You asked your roommate, slightly accusingly. He frowned at the note.
“You should probably leave this alone.” He tells you seriously.
“Then why did it you stick it to me last night?”
“What? No I didn’t. My handwriting looks nothing like that.” He had a point. 
“Are you having a friend write the notes? Is a friend of yours messing with me by way of you?”
“No, I have no idea what that’s about. But if I were you, I’d steer clear of it. And make sure you have iron, salt, and cream on you.” Pippin was a theatre major, so he may be lying, but if he wasn’t lying his superstitions were true to his nature. The only group that could rival theatre majors for superstitions were D&D players.

You frowned at the post-it, debating what to do. You decided to stick it to the backside of the dorm door, adding your own post-it below in your green marker.
‘Help how?’ You didn’t think your roommate was the plagiarizing type, hopefully he only meant studying together because of how english, history, and theatre all came together.

You checked the back of the door after lunch to find a new post-it.
‘If you want to find out, come to the pool party tonight. I’ll find you.’
You debated. You knew you needed to study for midterms, but what if your roommate could help? What if he was trying (in a really weird roundabout way) to take your mind off midterms and get you to relax? You decided to go.

The pool party was more fun than you thought it’d be. You jumped in the deep end and swam around there early in the evening, before you could get drunk. They were playing good music, had more than just cheap beer in the coolers. You were genuinely having a good time.
“Hey.” A smiling girl in a bikini put her arm around your shoulders. “You’re Green Marker, right?”
“You’re Purple Marker?” You asked. She nodded. “How do you know Pippin?”
“I know all the theatre majors in passing. And I know anyone down that deep in the library could use a hand come test time. What do you say?”
“You’d help me study? Without plagiarizing?”
“You’d have to provide me with something, too. Fair’s fair.”
“What would you want?”
“What are you willing to offer?”
“More candy?” You tried.
“To help you ace your midterms?”
“Okay, um…”

You tried to think. People were always saying to never wager something you couldn’t bear to lose. What was something valuable enough to get studying help, but that you could bear to lose? You glanced around and realized you’d been slowly walking away from the party, into the darkness.
“I’ll give you…” She wanted appreciation. “I’ll give you my friendship. How’s that?”
“Wonderful.” She sighed, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

 (x)