#and my uncle was asking why i'm so stressed (last year he asked if i was depressed) - he's so lovely but omfg i was so scared they'd realis

[decisions-at-3am]

You think you're in control, Pushing away all your pain. Don't you realise they've noticed? This has all been in vain.

[ms-demeanor]

Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

[jewish-vents]

My dad is Muslim. My mom is Jewish. His family used to treat my mother and I well, but in the last year they've all become increasingly hateful and bigoted. Finally he snapped at his dad for saying something antisemitic I won't repeat here and told him, "She has done nothing to you! Her family has done nothing to you! Our country slaughtered them and threw the survivors out! And all she's ever asked you for is respect! All she's ever wanted is peace! My wife is worth more to me than you, than your respect, than [entire country my dad immigrated from]! If Jews are so evil, why do you have to goad her and goad her and fucking goad her to try to get a response? And why haven't you gotten one? I'll tell you why - it's because she's something you aren't! She's a good person! I will take a good person who's a Jew over a monster like you any day! Get out of my house and don't come back!"

I'm so torn up inside. I love my dad. I love that he loves my mom and I so much. I love that he supports our being Jewish and has always told me that God loves all people, that I don't have to be Muslim just because he is. He's helped me learn Hebrew since my dyslexia makes it hard for me just like Arabic is for him. I could not ask for a better dad. But I hate that just because he's not antisemitic, he's lost his family. All of them have gone no contact with him for over a month now. I know he's had to argue with them a hundred times over me. They've always been mad he didn't raise me Muslim. I wonder, if I hadn't been born, if that would've helped. Maybe they wouldn't be so tense and angry. Maybe his family would be nice to my mom if I weren't born, but it's too late now. I'm 17. I can't undo the past.

I miss my dad's half of the family. I miss my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins. It hurts that they won't talk to me. I can't imagine how much worse this is hurting him. Sometimes in the early morning his eyes are bloodshot like he's been crying, even if he doesn't say anything to me. He's trying to be the cheerful person he always is. He doesn't want me to worry. But how can I not worry about him? Stress makes cardiac issues worse and he's had heart issues in the past. I want him to be okay.

Sometimes I feel this big, overwhelming sense of emotions I can't name, love and contentment and value, knowing he chose us over his family. Then I feel guilty for being happy about that, even briefly. He shouldn't have had to choose.

He's never getting his family back. I'm never getting part of my family back. I don't know what to do with that. The weight of it is hard to bear.

I miss the way things were before.

.

[imagopirateversion]

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales; Why It Shouldn’t Exist

Or how I invested time and energy into an analysis of a relatively dead franchise instead of doing it for my actual media analysis university course.

An essay by: a bitter and obsessed PotC fan since they were 7, with a lot of free time.

Lads, this is going to be long. You have been warned.

The Beginning

At the very beginning of the movie, we see a young Henry Turner looking for his dad.

Now, we're not talking about characterization problems or how likely it is that a ten-year-old child would risk his life to look for a man he technically only saw once; we're talking about plot problems, actual logical fallacies. My questions are:

How? The Flying Dutchman is a legendary ship, impossible to be found unless She wants to be found. The only reason we see Her in Dead Man's Chest is because Davy Jones himself is looking for Jack to collect his debt, and in that occasion the Dutchman's captain wasn't even doing what he was supposed to do, so he was most definitely in the living world. Will otherwise, he's doing the job Calypso gave him, so he's constantly in between. Is the movie trying to convince me that a kid was able to do something no one in the history of piracy was ever able to do? And even if he did, why hasn't anyone explained me how? He simply looks at a map and throws himself on the bottom of the ocean. How did he know The Dutchman was there? How did he know it would've come to surface?

Where is his mom? We got to know Elizabeth in the first three movies; we know she's a smart woman and we can assume she's an attentive mother. She didn't notice her son preparing himself for a trip in the middle of the ocean to go look for his dad? Was she distracted? Was she outsmarted by a 10ish-year-old? Or is she just not contemplated in this scenario?

Why does Will look like that? Will is doing his job, so... why does he look like he's slowly corrupting? That kind of corruption is the punishment Calypso reserves to The Dutchman's crew when the captain fails her, which isn't the case. Did they forget about it? Was the idea of putting algae on Orlando Bloom's face just impossible to resist to?

Alright, this isn't actually from this movie but it's bothering me, so I have to write it; also, it would make this whole movie unnecessary, so it's somehow related to it. Why (and I can't stress this enough) can't Elizabeth be on the Dutchman? Why can't they do the job together? Is it because she's not a pirate? I'm pretty sure se actually is. Is it because she's a woman? Last time I checked she was the KING. She wants to stay with Will forever, Will wants to stay with her forever, they can literally live forever on the same ship. Why aren't they?

Whatever the Hell Happened to Jack Sparrow

Imagine creating a character that is so iconic whenever you ask a person who was a kid in the early 2000 to imagine a pirate, they imagine said character.

Now imagine fourteen years pass and you decide to ruin that character by making him the most hideous, annoying, idiotic person in the whole saga, and we're talking about a saga that has Philip the Missionary in it. Why? Jack Sparrow is THE anti-hero. Never on the right side, but never on the wrong one. You can tell he's doing something morally questionable, but you still find yourself rooting for him. He's stupid enough to make you laugh, but he's secretly clever enough to always get away with it. Now he's just... drunk. And that's not even an excuse for this horrendous new characterization, because he was always drunk. The guy FORGOT HE WAS ROBBING A BANK, the same guy just one movie earlier was able to escape from the King of England's palace and steal a lady's earring (by pretending to be a literal slut) in the process. He just switched from the iconic drunk bi bestie everyone loves to my cringe uncle that drinks too much at Christmas parties and makes everyone uncomfortable. Please, if the risk is ruining an entire generation's beloved character, either don't make the movie or find a better explanation than "Bad luck dogs you day and night".

The Pearl in The Bottle

So... what you're telling me is that Jack Sparrow, the guy who was able to defeat Hector Barbossa, Davy Jones and Blackbeard thanks to his slyness, and who loves his Black Pearl more than anything else in the world, had said ship in a bottle in his pockets for FIVE YEARS... and he never thought about breaking the bottle to free Her. That's what you're telling me. This is the pivotal point upon which the entire Jack's plot hinges. I... I don't even know what to say. Was this supposed to be funny?

What an Incredibly Lucky Coincidence

A guy needs a treasure to save his father. To find it, he needs the help of a notorious and legendary pirate. He looks for him everywhere, sailing on dozens of ships just so he has the remote chance to stumble across the pirate. The last ship he's been on has sinked, he's the only survivor. He's been found in the middle of the ocean and someone brought him to the nearest city. Which city? I mean, the one that has both the pirate he was looking for and a lady who's the only person in the whole planet who's able to find the treasure he was looking for! And, oh my... he finds the both of them! In that same city! Without even LOOKING FOR THEM! A hell of a coincidence, if you ask me. Also known as lazy writing.

What's Wrong With the Guards?

Now, I know Pirates of the Caribbean isn't exactly known for its accurate historical reconstructions, but why are the guards in this movie acting like they're some sort of hellhounds ready to kill anyone in sight? Even pirates and traitors as Jack and Henry were supposed to stand trial before being sentenced to death. It would've probably been an unjust and barbaric trial, but there should've been one. We literally saw it, in the previous movie. Why's Jack been sentenced to death for simply existing here? He gave pirate vibes and they decided that was enough?

Paul McCartney

This is not an actual point of the analysis, I just wanted to remind people that Paul McCartney is in this movie and that's the only valid reason to watch it.

Salazar

I am confused. Once again, I have questions.

El Matador Del Mar was so good at his job he had almost defeated piracy. "The last ones joined together to try and defeat me". The last what? Pirates? There were no pirates left? This happened when Jack was young, so a lot of time before the first movie, right? Where were, I don't know... Blackbeard? Davy Jones? Barbossa? All the other Pirate Lords? I might be wrong, but I guess Salazar didn't kill them, did he? Why weren't they there during that "last battle" in which "the last ones joined together"?

The Devil's Triangle. I just don't understand what's the logic behind it. So, this is a cursed place. Whoever enters there, can't get out. One would think it means that if you get there, you die; and Salazar does die, but he somehow also becomes a ghost whose only purpose is to find Jack Sparrow and have his revenge. So, do people become ghosts when they get in The Devil's Triangle? We have to assume people have gotten stuck in there before; otherwise, there wouldn't be legends around the place. So why isn't it like full of spirits ready to haunt people? Why are Salazar and his crew the only ones?

Poseidon or Calypso?

What's the Trident of Poseidon? Does Poseidon exist? Isn't Calypso the Goddess of the sea? Breaking the Trident, you break all the curses of the sea, so the Trident must be more powerful than Calypso, which leads to a question. Where is she? She IS the sea, right? So she must have known someone was about to find the Trident and brake all curses, including her one. She just decided it was okay? It really feels like someone decided to suddenly change the world's mythology without giving explanations.

The Compass

This is possibly the most blatant plot hole in the whole saga. Probably the most blatant plot hole I've ever witnessed, and man, I watched all the Harry Potter movies. In Dead Man's Chest, Jack meets Tia Dalma in her "shop" and he tells her he's looking for the Davy Jones' key. She asks him "The compass you bartered from me, it cannot lead you to this?", making another pivotal point of Dead Men Tell No Tales factually senseless.

That man couldn't have given his compass to Jack, because that wasn't his compass.

So either Salazar is lying while telling his tale or they forgot about that line in the second movie. Anyway, let's pretend that line doesn't exist; even if that captain gave Jack his compass in that exact moment, why would it be the key to free Salazar, exactly? How is the compass in any way related to The Devil's Triangle or to Salazar? In the movie, they try to explain it with a sentence: “if you betray it, your greatest fear comes true”. So, is Salazar Jack's greatest fear? I really doesn't seem right, Jack almost didn't remember Salazar when Henry mentioned him. To Jack, he's only a guy he outsmarted decades earlier. Also, Jack technically already gave the compass away, twice: to Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest, to make her find the chest, and to Beckett in At World's End, when they're negotiating.

That's... That's Just Body Shaming, Mate

Let's talk about her. So, the woman's ugly. It can happen that a woman is ugly. Was it necessary to build an entire scene around some blatant body shaming? This scene wants to mimic the similar scene in Dead Man's Chest: Jack's on an island, running from the main villain, and he's forced to do things he doesn't want to do until someone saves him, then it was Will, now it's Hector.

Except in Dead Man's Chest it was LITERAL CANNIBALISM he was facing, and yet he looked LESS TERRIFIED and DISGUSTED. What's exactly the message here? Lads, is marrying an ugly woman worse than cannibalism? I don't know... that was just bad.

Justice for Hector Barbossa

If you know me (you probably don't, but if you do) then you know about my obsession with Hector Barbossa. I truly believe he's the best written character in the saga, and he's in my top five of the characters I love the most in all media. I watched The Curse of the Black Pearl when I was seven and I am autistic, so I had all the time to develop a literal relationship with these characters in my head. As much as Geoffrey Rush's interpretation was impeccable, as always, it really hurt to watch Hector in this movie. He just doesn't sound like him. First of all, why isn't he on the Queen Anne's Revenge? Why's he letting someone else sail around on his ships? He would've never. Why's he just sitting on a throne and shooting musicians instead of, I don't know... being a pirate? Being a pirate is the only thing that matters to him. He says it at the end of On Stranger Tides, and he even says it in this movie, to the witch. "I'm a pirate. Always will be".

So, why isn't he pirating? What happened to him? And what about the pact with the witch? He made her curse all his enemies; that's honestly the most out-of-character thing he could've done.

Seriously, watch this movie, and then The Curse of the Black Pearl and tell me he sounds like he's the same character. Then there’s his death... was it necessary? And I don't mean if it was necessary to the plot (it wasn't), but the way he died, did it make sense? He takes the sword and sacrifices himself to kill Salazar, but WHY? Salazar was back a mortal. They could've brought him to surface and then shoot him. What was the point of his death, Disney? I will never forgive you.

I would've preferred if they never showed him again. He's alive and living his best life in Tortuga, if you ask me.

How does Carina Smyth exist?

Let's do the maths. Carina Smyth has approximately the same age as Henry Turner, who was born around nine moths after the end of At World's End. At the end of that movie, Barbossa once again stole the Black Pearl (he's iconic we stan a legend), so we have to assume it is during that time (between the At World's End and On Stranger Tides) that he conceives Carina. He stays with this woman during the whole pregnancy, bacause he says he was there when she died. So nine months, at least, right? Except; Jack makes it clear that he and Barbossa met Carina's mom, Margaret, together.

When, exactly, did this happen? It can't be between On Stranger Tides and Dead Men Tell No Tales, because Hector himself says only five years passed between the two, and Carina doesn't look like a five-year-old;

it can't be between At World's End and On Stranger Tides, because we know Jack and Barbossa weren't together, and Hector was too busy losing a leg and planning his revenge by working for the King of England; it can't be during At World's End, because Barbossa was too busy rescuing Jack and then slaying (literally and metaphorically) Beckett's men to save piracy; it can't be during Dead Man's Chest, because he was dead; it can't be during The Curse of the Black Pearl, nor during the ten years before it, because he was... he was a skeleton, I hardly believe he could reproduce, despite what’s written in some fanficions; it can't be before, of course, because Carina would be too old. The only chance, but it's a stretch, is that Hector and Jack met this Margaret Smyth years and years before, and that at a certain point (while he was still busy slaying, losing a leg or planning his revenge), for some reason he decided to come back to her and accidentally had a daughter. That would mean that Jack remembered Margaret Smyth's name DECADES after he met her.

The Post-Credit Scene: What?

WHY'S DAVY JONES BACK? The Trident technically broke all the curses of the sea. He is THE cursed man of the sea. AND HE'S DEAD. The only answer I was able to give me, is that the moment the Trident broke the curses, the curse that said if you stab his heart he dies was also broken, so he technically didn't die, but it makes even less sense, because if the curses just aren't real anymore, then a man shouldn't be able to... carve out his heart and put it in a chest, right? (Which by the way, makes Will Turner being alive senseless as well). Even if so, Davy should've come back as a human.

My conclusion is that this movie should not exist, and we, as a community, should pretend it was never made. Hector is alive. Bye.

Imago

[alchemistc]

(dys)functional | bucktommy 1/1

an: the hockey au keeps growing, have some tommy whump in the meantime

read on ao3

"Hey," Tommy says, rolling the word over his tongue, letting the door close behind him and leaning his head back against it as it goes. Evan glances up, and immediately sets the knife in his hands down, expression going concerned the moment he sees the look on Tommy's face.

"Uh wha - what's wrong?"

The concern in his voice is ratcheted up in a way Tommy doesn't quite understand - he knows the look on his face is a little resigned but Evan looks stressed. "I'm gonna have to reschedule our weekend," he tells him, already shifting away from the door, moving in, chasing after the distressed little tilt of Evan's head, completely incapable of not trying to fix it even though his mind is going in about fifty different directions, right now.

Around the corner of the island, into Evan's space, and Evan melts just enough for Tommy to get his hands around Evan's hips. "Is everything okay?"

Tommy grimaces. "Not - not really, no. I've got to catch a flight in about six hours."

Evan goes stiff under his hands. "O-okay."

There's an art to fully grasping his tone, in these moments. He's - not an easy read, exactly, because his default seems to always be doing a terrible job of hiding whatever it is he's feeling, but that doesn't actually mean he's not masking the actual issue. It's confusion, mostly, maybe a little bit of hurt, a quiet sense of foreboding in his expression as he leans back to get a good look at Tommy's face, like he's searching for an answer for a question he doesn't know if he's allowed to ask.

Evan shifts impatiently, stormy expression clearing up. "Can - do you need to -" He makes a face Tommy knows is aimed at himself, a little recrimination for not being able to gather up the proper words in the proper order. He pulls in a deep breath. "Okay, so this is maybe too much to throw at you right now but those are kinda famous last words for me and I'm - will you tell me why so I'm not thinking up worst case scenarios here?"

Tommy slides in, fingers curling into the hem of Evan's shirt, gripping, tugging just enough that they both drift into one another. "It's my father." Brow furrowed, Evan nods, and waits, still rigid in the circle of Tommy's arms. And Tommy really does have to leave, soon, pack an overnight bag and try to get a couple hours of sleep before the slog to John Wayne, but he's a little concerned that leaving right now is going to send Evan into a tailspin. Thank God he'd decided to drive over first, tell him in person - he's missing a heap of context here but clearly a phone call would have been the wrong move. "He's - I have to..."

Evan knows the basics, bare minimum shit because Tommy hates acknowledging how much his father had fucked him up, how many years of therapy have been required to untangle the dad shaped knots in his brain.

"I don't really have all the details, yet, but my uncle called and I - I'm needed, apparently. I don't." Tommy has felt wrong-footed since the moment the name flashed across his phone screen, he doesn't talk to them, to any of them, and now his uncle has given him a vague 'Tom you need to come home, it's your pop' and his sister isn't answering her messages. Tommy takes a breath, realizes his hands have tightened into fists in the seams of Evan's shirt. "What do you mean famous last words?"

Evan is studying him carefully, elbows bowed behind him because he's got his palms curled around Tommy's fists, eyes shifting over Tommy's face, and Tommy knows he's seeing the shit Tommy likes to keep under lock and key. "It - it can wait. Tommy, do you need me to come with you?" Head tilted, gaze assessing, fingers shifting, soothing over the stretched tight skin of Tommy's knuckles.

It's too soon for that. He doesn't want Evan to see that part of him, the piece of the puzzle that Tommy has had to chip at, and shave and sand down to make fit, that ugly little part of his life he'd shed the day he'd set his house key on the dining room table and left for boot camp.

It's not too soon - he doesn't want Evan to ever see that.

He's also suddenly incredibly aware of how nice it would be to finally, finally have someone he knows is in his corner for whatever bullshit he's ten hours away from walking into. His grip loosens and Evan seizes the opportunity, awkwardly lacing his fingers through Tommy's. It's a weird angle, uncomfortable with the current positioning of their arms, but it feels a bit like a lifeline. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not. I'm offering."

There's a stubborn part of him that doesn't want to accept. He's kept his life out here so separate; even Sal, who'd kept all his other secrets for going on a decade, barely knows shit about his family. He has a good life, rich and fulfilling. Out here. He's got Evan, who'd do practically anything for his friends, his family. Tommy can't justify subjecting him to whatever garbage the Kinard's have going on three thousand miles across the country.

Evan tugs at his hands, shifting his weight enough to send Tommy stumbling half a step into him. Toe to toe, gazes catching again, because Evan is seeking him out, Tommy feels some of the weight lift off his shoulders.

"Okay."

It gives him the excuse of leaving as soon as possible, once he gets there, at the very least.

Evan nods. Whatever weird tension he'd been carrying ebbs from his shoulders and Tommy puts a pin in that - he's spiraling and upset but for a second Evan had been, too, and he needs to circle back to that when he can think straight.

He's got his phone out, free hand digging into Tommy's front pocket, and Tommy blinks, tries to think of something clever to say, something flirty and wry. They were supposed to go out tonight: dinner, maybe dancing, after, if Tommy could convince him. Then a three day stretch of matching days off - a drive up the coast, a little rental within walking distance of a beach, a seafood place that made a lobster roll almost as good as the ones up in Maine. He'd been contemplating whether or not it was too early to bring up Evan's lease.

Evan fishes Tommy's phone out and presses in his passcode without a second thought, and something eases in Tommy's chest. He trusts Evan. Has trusted him, consistently, unquestioningly - he'd given him his passcode on a whim when the screen went dark on it halfway through Evan adding his food to whatever they'd been in the middle of ordering in before Evan got derailed by a story about the anatomy of seahorses.

"Did you already book a flight?"

Tommy nods. Points out the Southwest icon he'd moved to his home screen for easy access.

He doesn't argue when Evan guides him around the island to one of the stools, there, fight and flight both losing out to freeze as Evan takes charge.

It's not their usual dynamic. Evan has been happy to set the pace, but once he takes his cues from him, Tommy's typically the one taking point. But Tommy feels unmoored, and it's nice, actually, to have Evan press a kiss to his temple, to pull up his flight information, to squeeze Tommy's shoulder as he books a second ticket on the credit card Tommy's really only let him use once or twice, happy to be seeing someone who will actually let him pay more than his fair share, who seems flattered that Tommy's always got his wallet out before Evan even thinks to reach for his.

Everything's a bit jumbled. He's halfway to Jersey already, maybe, pulled into the riptide and dashed against the rocks of Richard Kinard's bullshit, he doesn't even know why he's going, just that his uncle had told him he needed to come. He comes up for air feeling battered and bruised when Evan rubs a hand down his shoulder, over his arm, up again with harder pressure as his palm shifts down and over his spine.

Evan's face hovers close to his. "I'm just gonna call Bobby, and then we can pick up something to eat on the way over to your place." The upside to having something already planned is that Evan's already got a bag packed with everything he'll need to travel.

It sounds so simple, so effortless, and Tommy's throat feels tight when he swallows. He gets two fingers into Evan's belt loop before he can pull away, and Evan comes easily, stepping into the spread of Tommy's legs, forehead coming down the few inches to meet Tommy's. "You - thank you."

"Of course," Evan says, a little wry, an echo of Tommy's own favorite phrase whenever Evan gets a little caught up in the way Tommy keeps showing up for him. He gets it, now. It's been instinct, really, to be there when Evan asked, to try his damnedest to make it to the things he's promised to be there for - nothing particularly remarkable about it, in Tommy's mind, but Tommy's starting to see the larger picture. It's grounding, it's comforting, it is actually a little remarkable to be on the receiving end of it. It feels like devotion.

Tommy rolls his forehead, curls a hand up over Evan's shoulder, his neck, fingers catching in his hair, along the curl of his ear. When he blinks and meets Evan's gaze, there's something in his eyes that Tommy isn't sure either one of them is actually ready for, but then, they haven't really stumbled on their way through those things up to this point anyway. Blazed past them, maybe, but always with an understanding of what they mean while they waved at the mile marker blurring past them.

Evan squeezes at Tommy's knee. "I'm not going anywhere," he assures, and Tommy snorts.

"You're literally going to Jersey in, like, five and a half hours."

Evan huffs. "With you. I'm - you're ruining my moment, Tommy," he pouts, and if the both of them dissolve into a fit of giggles, no one has to know but them.

-----

Tommy hasn't been back here in eight years. It's been longer since he's talked to his family - he'd shown up fifteen minutes into his grandmother's funeral, slipped in to a pew at the back during mass and and skipped the wake before he found a bar and made a few bad decisions with a man who'd sat next to him four drinks in and smiled at him like the sun peeking through a billowing stormcap.

Evan presses a tentative hand to the small of Tommy's back and Tommy melts into it, pleased when the hand shifts to curl around his waist. He's apparently already rented a car, and Tommy can't quite hide the heavy sigh of gratitude at the admission - the getaway will be a lot smoother if they don't have to stand outside waiting for a ride.

He's seen Clipboard Buck in action before. The last time, he'd barely managed to get them somewhere private before he was on his knees to express his appreciation of Clipboard Buck. This is - not better, but different in a good way. It makes him feel tethered, reminds him that as crazy as it had been to accept an invitation to a wedding after a spectacular explosion of a first date, he'd been right to follow that spark he'd first felt on the tarmac while Evan Buckley shook his hand for about thirty seconds too long.

"I can help whoever's next," says a voice as Evan shuffles him along the rental line, and Tommy's gaze darts up, his posture sharpening.

Evelyn.

Christ, it's a day for reunions, Tommy guesses. They're next, actually, and Evan tilts his chin with narrowed eyes when Tommy sighs and moves to the counter.

For a second, Tommy's convinced she doesn't recognize him. She pops the gum in her mouth, bored gaze bouncing between them as Evan scrolls through his email for the confirmation number on his booking, and then her eyes go wide.

"Tom? Tom Kinard?"

Evan's eyes shift up. It's a lot more subtle than Tommy'd expected. So is the hand that squeezes at Tommy's hip in question.

Tommy curls his fingers around the hand, squeezes back. He's spent too many years on the other side of the closet door to go crawling back into the dark now.

"Hi Evie."

Tommy hasn't told this story, but he doubts Evan will be particularly surprised by it. He's heard about plenty of Tommy's other beards.

Her gaze shifts. From her spot behind the counter he doubts she's seeing much, but the anchor of Evan's arm around his waist has them sharing space, Tommy's shoulder pressed to Evan's chest, the two of them breathing the same air. Her brow ticks up behind her glasses. She's got a streak of grey along her temple, and the start of crows feet around her eyes.

Evelyn snaps her gum. "You missed the reunion," she notes, and then smiles. "Although I can't blame you if this is what you've got back at home. A large improvement on Jason Ledecky." She leans in. "He's got five kids and a truly tragic bald spot."

Evan's eyes gleam. Tommy realizes he's actually looking forward to telling this story, in the sanctuary of a rented car on the way to his uncles. Evelyn Carinni had been a godsend for a Tommy who'd shot up four inches and slimmed down over the summer after junior year -- she'd scooped him right up that first day of school when it became clear that a suddenly sharp jawline was all it took to garner the attention of the female population of Cliffside Park High, and the first time she'd whipped out her tits and seen the disinterested look on his face she'd made it her mission to make sure he made it through senior year undetected.

"You here about the will?"

Tommy pauses. "What will?"

Her eyeroll is exactly as disparaging as he remembers. "Christ, your family is a piece of work. According to Tina, who heard it from Daryl, Old Man Gio apparently had an updated will your dad tried to hide. There's been a whole lawsuit about getting it recognized."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Well, I imagine dear old granddad had a nice little end-of-life realization that the only descendant he had who didn't want any of his money was you, so as a last fuck you to all his ungrateful kids he left it all to you."

"There's no way any of that money hasn't been spent already." Not to mention he has no interest in some long drawn out court case where all his extended family has to admit they have no way to pay it back.

Evelyn hums. "A lot of it's been tied up for years. Plus there's the royalties his estate is still getting."

Tommy sighs. "My uncle made it seem like it was more serious than that."

"Is there anything more serious to them than who gets the lions share of daddy's money?" At Tommy's raised brow, she shakes her head. "Anyway, your pop might be looking at jail time, so there's always a possibility they're looking for preemptive bail money."

If he lets them, he'll tie up Evelyn for hours, standing here gossiping like teenagers. "We should have a reservation," Tommy tells her, before things get really off the rails, and they go through the motions of pulling up Evan's information. Evelyn pops her gum again.

"What a shame," she says, brow raised and eyes focused on Evan. "We promised you we had plenty of inventory in basic economy but it looks like those are all off the lot." Tommy watches Evan frown, eyes darting to the prices detailed behind her. Neither one of them is overly concerned about their savings account, at the moment, but Evan isn't fond of surprise price increases. He'd complained for a week the last time avocados had gone up thirty cents. "Looks like I'll just have to upgrade you free of charge, Mr. Buckley."

The clerk to her left shoots her an exasperated look and leaves it at that, but something happens in Evan's expression, the realization rolling over him that he's been included in some subterfuge. "Oh, well, if you have to," he says, but he's leaning his free arm against the counter now, posture open, happy to be included in this little bubble with someone who has loved and cared for Tommy. He knows the feeling -- knows how he'd had to take a deep breath at Chimney's bachelor party, when Eddie had glanced between them and implied that Evan inviting him to the karaoke bar was a date, remembers the way he'd had to dig his fingers into his thigh in the pocket of his pants to keep from being weird about how nice it was to laugh with Maddie Buckley-Han.

Evelyn chuckles, and smacks her gum, and the keys under her fingers clack away for a moment before she spins in her chair and marches off to grab something from the printer, and Evan hip checks Tommy with just enough force that Tommy sways, maybe a little overcome in the same way Tommy always is when Evan's friends, his family make it clear they like having Tommy around. He grins, and Tommy returns it, the edges of his smile bleeding into his cheeks.

Evelyn returns with contract for a sports car. "I waived the deposit fee," she intones. "For the inconvenience, sir."

Evan looks delighted as he signs off and Evelyn splits their copies. The sticky note affixed to Evan's copy has a phone number with a Jersey area code written on it, and she taps it.

"When you find out you're insanely rich and finally cut off the rest of your family completely, you two should take me out for coffee."

Evan isn't so caught up that he doesn't check in with Tommy first. It's not entirely necessary --he likes Evelyn, and Evan can clearly tell that -- but it's nice, all the same.

"How about a steak dinner," Tommy negotiates, and Evelyn's grin goes wide.

-----

As it turns out, Grandpa Gio was a petty little bastard with a penchant for dramatics, and according to a court of law his aunts and uncles (and father) owe him close to two million dollars, between them.

"I don't want it," Tommy confesses, laid out on the hotel bed that night, still too loose-limbed to move as Evan putters around in the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and brushing his teeth.

Evan looms over him a moment later, warm towel running over the ridges of Tommy's stomach, the rise of his pectorals. Christ, he'd shot off like a goddamn missile. Evan bites his lip to hide a grin when the towel catches on the underside of Tommy's chin.

"I'm assuming you're talking about the money," Evan says, folding the towel over itself to give him one last rubdown. "It seemed like you liked the sex."

Tommy shifts, tugging at Evan's wrist until he settles in beside Tommy. With the remains of his energy, he slings a leg over Evan's and rolls himself into the cradle of Evan's embrace. "That was never a question."

Evan maintains the silence for a grand total of thirty-seven seconds. It's longer than Tommy had expected. "So your family." Tommy hums, already tracing the edges of the tattoo on Evan's forearm. "Kind of dicks."

The snort of laughter settles into Evan's still-sweaty temples, and Tommy shifts to press his nose into the damp curls there. He'd been so hesitant to share this part of himself with Evan, but as always, Evan had forged on ahead like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than provide the landing spot for Tommy to settle down his gear once the storm passed.

"Took me twenty years and a boatload of therapy to train that out of me. I'm still --." Tommy pauses, the usual self-deprecating comment stuck on the tip of his tongue, because for once, it doesn't feel like an effort to be nothing like them. He'd spent so long hiding in the shadow of the asshole his family had taught him how to be, and dragging himself out into the sunlight always felt like a struggle.

But it hadn't felt like an effort, really -- to hold Evan's hand under the judgemental gaze of ten cousins and four aunts and uncles, to stand tall and stick to the barest edges of polite while the room erupted into chaos the moment his father opened his mouth to defend himself, to excuse himself and tuck his arm over Evan's shoulder on the way out the door.

He can still remember the dazed way Evan had responded to that first kiss, while Tommy busied himself tugging the hem of his shirt back down, too nervous to look at him while he asked him out. The way he'd looked, when Tommy'd been brave enough to glance up, eyes a little glazed, mouth still open, and told him he was free.

At the time, Tommy'd been furiously convincing himself not to lean in for another kiss, fully aware he'd make himself late to work if he allowed himself another taste, but the memory had lingered the rest of the shift. In the days after, once he'd had a clearer picture of exactly how wide he'd just blown open Evan's world, he'd thought of it often.

I am free.

Tommy turns his face to meet Evan's gaze, nose dragging across his cheek, lips aching to find a home against Evan's again, but he catches his eyes first, slides a hand up over Evan's arm, shoulder, neck, until he can curl his fingers over his jaw, thumb tucking in to the little dimple as Evan grins at him. "Thank you for coming."

Evan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the top one, a mischievous gleam in his eye, but he lets the dumb joke go, gaze shifting into something more serious as he drums his fingers along Tommy's bare hip. "Thanks for letting me," Evan murmurs back, and Tommy knows they need to talk about that sentiment in more detail, but for now he'd rather roll Evan on top of him and slide his tongue past the seam of Evan's lips.

Evan doesn't seem to have any complaints.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will 

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.  

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.” 

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump. 

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.  

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.  

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.” 

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought. 

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.   

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door. 

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back.  Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay’s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm. 

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”  

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively. 

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.” 

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing. 

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.” 

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.” 

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?” 

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”  

You were.  

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.  

“Of course, I love you too.” 

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room. 

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?” 

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.  

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.  

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.  

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.  

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.  

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face. 

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan. 

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”  

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.” 

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”  

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.” 

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.” 

[ray935sworld]

Visiting an old friend

Rosquez, Vale & Sic

25.12 Winter writing

Content information: the following writing includes Vale talking to Sic at his grave (no counter interaction). If this is something you're not comfortable with or that might triggers you, do not read.

I know some people or more hesitant when it comes to these topic. I don't mean any disrespect. I wrote this as part of a coping mechanism.

"Hey buddy, long time no seen" Vale said as he sat down opposite his old friend. "And I am completely aware that this is all my fault. So I apologize"

He smiled and felt the warmth he got in return. The other wasn't angry. He never was. He was just happy he was here now.

"You know, I... Funny story. I actually still thought our little meetings were a secret from Marc. But my dear husband told me to tell you that he says hi"

He remembered just a little bit earlier. "Give me a little bit time" he had whispered at Marc's ear when he kissed him awake. It was the early hours in the morning. 5.30 am. But he couldn't keep sleeping and he didn't want to miss Christmas breakfast with their little ones.

"I promise you I'm back in 2 hours" he kissed him again and saw his husband's calm smile as he nodded. "I know." he whispered as he burried his head back in the cushion. Soon enough their little whirlwinds would wake up and the peace was on the past.

He was just about to leave, already changed and the car keys in the pocket when Marc added "Tell him I said hi, will you? Tell him we miss him."

He felt a sadness pool in his stomach. All this time, every time he had made up a dumb excuse why he had to leave for a few hours weren’t needed. Of course he knew. And he had been respectful about it and didn't ask.

He smiled at him. It had been the perfect response. "I will"

And now he sat opposite him again.

"So... Hi from Marc. They miss you" he said and leaned back. "I miss you too..." he started to feel sad but right now he dint wasn't to be sad.

He quickly changed the subject. "Especially cause you'd have a field day with the way I stress out over the races at the moment" he chuckled.

"Seriously. My dear, sweet husband - Don't get me wrong. I am overjoyed that he's doing better and he's feeling happy on the bikes again. Finally he got that spark back, you know what I mean - and oh, we fuck like rabbits again. The boys already judge me for asking them to babysit that often.

He remembered Luca's and Pecco's looks after asking if they would like some uncles - nieces bonding time after Marc won his first race in years.

"But he's back to riding like - well almost like he used to. I can't imagine he'll be more careful next year. For the record I am not complaining! I am 100% supporting him. It's just - he'll be on a factory Ducati so I feel like I'm going to be gray a lot sooner than I thought"

He was almost as happy as he was concerned about him on a Ducati. But he could finally fight a title and he wouldn't be the one stopping him.

"I just feel sorry for Pecco. Bet he's going to complain to me the whole year. 10€!" He knew the other would accept that bet. He grinned.

"But at least I have an argument against Marc now. Okay, to his credit, he's more... I wouldn't say more careful on track but he's less stupid. Yes, that's it. Our little princess really keep him grounded. You should see him. He comes home and is immediately hugging and cuddling them"

He grinned, remembering how his little girls had tried to stay awake until their papa returned. Just when he had heard the car pull up, he had softly woken them up.

He had let them go first and just after seconds, the bags abandoned in the car, Marc had both his arms full with their little girls. He had kissed and hugged them and kissed them some more.

Vale ended up talking a lot about his little family and their adventures since his last visit. Then he went on about his other children.

"Ah and Franky - you wouldn't believe it. He finally got his shit together and asked Andrea out. Took him only 13 years or so of pinning. I bet that's a new record" he laughed.

"And now Marc is working on getting Cele and Bez together. I promise you, he should have been a dating coach."

He let time pass. The conversation was flowing. He talked about everything he could think off until there was nothing left. He didn't had anything else sitting on his soul.

That might be the worst and best moment of the whole visit. He knew there was nothing left to say. He didn't feel guilty about leaving. On the contrary, he felt lighter, more free. He was happy to see his family and spent Christmas together.

"I guess, it's time" he said, standing up. "Take care, will you? Be kind. Promise me, you're not causing too much of a chaos, amiche. Maybe a little. A little is needed but don't overdue it."

He laughed about his own words. "Do you hear that? I'm really getting old. But anyway..."

He leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. But his lips didn't met skin. He didn't even met the thick curls they used to touch. He felt the cold stone against his lips.

"I miss you, my friend. Really. Terribly. But I'll take my time to meet you again properly. But when I do meet you again and you give me a big hug, I'll have thousand of stories to tell you."

Looking at the stone infront of him for one last time. He knew he would be here again in a week to whish him a happy new year.

"And sent Nicky my greeting too, alright?" he said. "Merry christmas Marco "

He smiled at the stone, imagining it wasn't just his name and the letters and numbers that used to hunt him in his sleep but the man himself standing infront of him before he drove him for Christmas.

Marco Simoncelli

20.01.1987 - 23.10.2011

[yessir-rightawaysir]

SatAM Snivster mah dude

What in the hell was up with your hair detaching so easily and blowing away?

And why no growing it back? Was Robotnik too jealous to let you? 😂

Stress. It just never grew back. Julian shaves his head on purpose. There's no jealousy there, only laughter. Er, not that he'd have a full, beautiful head of hair either... I'm reasonably sure he's also bald, just not as bald as I am. Ugh.

Anonymous asked: Yo SatAM! Sniv One thing I noticed was you referred to Princess Sally as the leader of the Freedom Fighters. Yet she, some time later, told Sonic he was their leader. I found that interesting that she'd bestow that title on him and that you believed her deserving of it. Maybe it's just because she's the heir to the now defunct throne? Anyways, it seems to me you've got at least some respect for her, maybe even admiration? Would you feel any remorse if you had to kill her or that you have to be enemies?

Isn't she? The hedgehog is far too stupid to be their leader.

I have no respect for any of their lot, you are mistaken. But I would never kill her... I'd have a robot do it. Any remorse I would feel would be the product of Robotnik's fists as I doubt he would appreciate his lackey doing something he believes is his right. And he'd prefer her roboticized, not dead.

Anonymous asked: Hey satam!Snivley, a lot of your plans go fairly well until Robotnik lets his ego get in the way. Why do you keep putting up with it?

I have no where else to go. I'm a prisoner. What am I supposed to do, plot behind his back to overthrow him and then take over mobius myself? I would never!

Anonymous asked: [SaTAM Snively] What's your thoughts/opinions on Sally Acorn? Like what do you think about her?

Hhhhhhhhhh. Lord. I think she's intelligent and clever and a far too capable adversary. She's also been quite cruel to me. She's also the reason for some rather vicious repercussions from my uncle. I wish she was gone. I wish all of the freedom fighters were gone. I have no love for her or any of her ilk.

Anonymous asked: so, satam!sniv... in your last post, you mentioned that your uncle had to deafen himself-- I suppose that explains the prosthetics that replace his ears-- but if you didn't already know where I was going with this, do you know what's up with his eyes? something related, or something totally different?

This happened when I was far too young to remember quite clearly, but I believe he had degenerative eye problems? And they were only getting worse and worse over the years, so eventually he had them replaced. His vision is quite sharp now.

Anonymous asked: CHOP CHOP RAT-BOY WE WANT LORE

Do you have ANY IDEA how busy I am?! Of course you don't. No one does. I don't get a lot of free time. I should be sleeping right now, but unfortunately I'm a bit, uh, over energized from the little helpers I take throughout the day. Tomorrow is going to be quite awful.

Also, rat boy?? If you wish for correspondence from me perhaps you might try being kinder.

Except... I suppose I did respond to this. Hell.

[aki-shun]

Concubine Of The Red King [M!Reader x Riddle Rosehearts]

This may be the last request I write under my old system. New rules and lists will be arranged in the pinned post.

First This post was created by request.

Requester: @delightfulcupquakequeen

TW: Omegaverse, mpreg, there's a lot of time skips

You had tiring and busy days as Riddle's husband and the other king(?) of the country. Fortunately, Riddle kept you away from matters like politics and heavy management so that you wouldn't have too much trouble, and included you in the palace and some internal affairs that even you could handle.

These duties also include palace soldiers and servants. And these two cute idiots you follow. Ace and Deuce were among the new employees who came to the palace as guards under Cater, one of The Left Wing Guards.

And those two idiots might have made Riddle a little angry. By eating some tart. Oh, the expressions on those two's faces when they appeared in front of Riddle looked so innocent and stupid that you asked your husband to forgive those two.

You go behind the chair where Riddle is sitting and hug him from behind. In return, he kisses your hands and arms around his neck.

Is there something wrong, Riddle? [N] Those two fools drank coffee at afternoon tea time. It's tea time! [R] Ohh, honey, but those two were on night duty last night and had to stay on day duty today too. I'm sure it's to relieve their insomnia. [N]

They could also drink tea, why that dark bitter stuff..! [R] Maybe that's why coffee is said to be good for insomnia. gigles [N]

Hah, you always find something to defend these two. [R]

You've heard of the heat of Omegas or the heat of Alphas, right? For some reason, the nights were very noisy at that time :)

Now let's look at what we have: an out-of-control Riddle, a Trey trying to calm his King down, Cater finding himself in this situation when he comes to pick up his two idiot soldiers, two idiots who are excited to be so-called 'uncles'. Good luck.

No matter how much you like it when your strawberry man is fussing over you, this is only the 4th day of this poor pathetic panic and you're not sure if you can handle it for the whole pregnancy.

Riddle, can you give me back my papers? I can't do my job. [N]

You need to stop doing your work and lie down. If there is one thing you have to do, it is to rest..! [R]

What are you reading? [N] … Political science. Anyway, forget the book. Did you like the tart? Trey's mother made it for you. [R] Of course, his mother's hand is delicious as always. Here, have a slice. [N] No, it's yours and your baby's. [R] Riddle is just a slice. I don't think I could finish a whole tart. [N] No way, that's your- [R] Riddle, my dear, or do you want to upset me? [N] WHA- Just a slice. All the rest is yours. [R] Eat.it.all. [N]

Honey, it's only 3 weeks old. And just a few papers and documents. [N]

But these will tire you..! [R] My dear, nothing like this will happen. [N]

But this book does not say that. Excessive stress can cause premature birth or worse, leave a diseased mark on the baby. [R] Didn't I forbid you those books? [N]

But- [R] Riddle, those books are almost 500 years old. Of course, some of them may be real, but there is a doctor in the palace. If something happens, we call him. [N]

You should be stress free. [R] Your stress is what makes me stressed. [N]

… I'm not stressed.. [R] Yes you are, oh Big Seven. If anyone were to see us, they'd think you're pregnant. Now give me this book- [N]

After 5 months

Riddle prevents you from talking to most people (Ace&Deuce). No, he's not a yandere. He's just trying to stop you from talking to people he thinks will stress you out. As your belly grew so much, his panic also grew. He came up with a name for the baby according to the rules of the Queen of Hearts. Don't think that you can now do the things that you were able to do by forcing him out of your hands at the beginning of your pregnancy. It is strictly prohibited. You need to eat healthy and properly and get healthy air in as peaceful an environment as possible. Also, do not look at fire or anything similar for a long period of time. He read that such things change the baby's physical characteristics. Yes, Riddle is still reading those old books.

You don't know if it's a good thing to use Riddle's fears to get some control, but at least some things are under control.

Riddle's ear is on your belly. He gently caresses your belly with his hands. Hearing and feeling his child's first kicks makes him feel something.

I think he gets a little excited in front of his father.

Just like the baby's kicks, you could hear the excited heartbeat of your husband, who had a face as red as his hair. Riddle relaxes as time passes and the doctor confirms that you and your baby are healthy. Of course, we should not forget Trey's share in this. Cater does this by keeping Ace and Deuce away from Riddle as much as possible. Still, Riddle grew a little tolerant of the pair.

I didn't know that the king could make such a face when he was embarrassed~. [T] Trey..! What are you doing here..! [R] I'm here for King [name]. I brought the things he asked for from the chef. [T] Hmm? What did you want from the chef, dear? [R]

...

...

…

Riddle tried and failed to impose a kitchen ban. Of course, he withdrew this decision after you threw all the books in his library at his head. He loves you, but please, when you crave those things, please crave them in places where he can't see you. He can beg for it.

Are you seriously going to eat that thing? [R] (Name who eats lemon peels with 3 types of chocolate on top plus curry and chili peppers as decoration) Why would I ask the cook for something I won't eat?? [N] .. Doesn't look very healthy [R] Riddle, My Dear, nothing is too healthy. Besides, it's not me, it's the baby who wants this :( [N]

When that thing is born, it will learn from me personally what it needs to eat. [R] You're being rude >:( [N] I am not. [R] … [N] Ughmm I mean- [R] Do you think bell peppers stuffed with peanut butter and cheese and topped with plum marmalade are delicious? [N] …….. I- [R] TREYY I WAN- I MEAN BABY WANTS SOMETHING [N] You won't eat that thing >:( I don't want to lose my precious ones that are and will be. [R]

Of course, there are many difficult parts of pregnancy and some things are difficult for some people that they still can't get over… That's why we're skipping those parts because that's how this AU works :) (while looking at these topics on the internet, just in my mind it was like 'Why do you still want children despite this?!' So thank your mothers or omega fathers for having the courage to give birth to you, or not, I don't know)

*3.27 a.m.

Riddle..riddle.. [N] Wakes up Hah, did something happen?! [R] No, you didn't just say goodnight to me before going to sleep :) [N] Oh I'm sorry, good night my strawberry garden. Yawn [R] My water just broke :) [N] So good night…….WHAT?! [R]

The entire palace was awakened by the sound of Riddle running and screaming. You may have suffered from physical and partly mental problems of pregnancy, but this man suffered not only the mental problems of pregnancy, but also mental problems that were not in the pregnancy mental. These loads are too big for his body 😔

Just the facts, labor was painful. Don't expect anything, but if you keep pulling your husband's hair to ease your pain, your baby will have a bald father when he is born. Instead there's Ace and Deuce, pull theirs, Riddle thought, but then he knew he had to take on that role as a wife here so he didn't mind hanging on and going bald.

This is a girl, your majesty. [Nurse]

Hey, a light from the sky hits Riddle's head, what is this? Ooohh this is a 'Daughter Dad Personality Overload'. This is valid for all fathers. If your father is not one of them, the internet was probably cut off during the installation. Sorry :(

Ohm OHm anyway

This is my daughter.. I have a daughter. [R] Our daughter, we have a daughter. [N] Yes, yes it is. [R] … He looks like a red pepper, just like his father. [A] Ace! You're just insulting his majesty, just say she's little as his father! [D] Who let these two idiots in, they woke up the baby! [R] I think they woke up to your shouting.. [C] Did you say something Cater??! [R] I didn't even open my mouth.. Whatever he said, Trey said. [C] …. Really..? [T] It really looks like red pepper. [N] Dear, you to? :( [R]

And they left. And she came .. 🙄

I see that I am the last one to be informed about the birth of my grandchild. [R.M.]

Mother-in-law.. Good luck.

Riddle give me my grandchild. [R.M.] Uhm okay mom. [R] Your Majesty, do not forget what I used to be. [R.M.] Well..your majesty. [R] Hmm, what's its name? [R.M.] Rose, your majesty. [R] Hah, it's like a villager's name. Her name will be Garnet 6. Elizabeth Riddle Risel Brizar Gisel 5. Mary. [R.M.]

Your majesty, I think your grandson urinated on you. Most likely it means a NO to the name you gave it :) [N]

….

….

….

drip drip drip

As they say, the daughter attracts the father. The baby may apparently be riddle 2.0. But you shot that thing for 9 months. Of course she will look like you.

If you don't like this article, that's not my problem, okay? I was traumatized by the pregnancy video I watched. I need therapy.

And I hate her(the short kings mom)

[ae-azile]

Progression, Chapter 27: Preview

Chay: Kim and I have a son now. 🥹

Khun: Kim’s PREGNANT?! 🤰🏻 Kim! Why wouldn't you TELL me? 🖕🏼

Kim: I don't have the parts for that. 

Chay: Don't remind me 😞

Porsche: I'm going to ignore you just saying that and instead ask for clarification. Whose baby did you steal? You're too young to be a parent. You have your college interview and practical coming up. 

Macau: Does P’Pete’s dad have another baby he was mistreating that you took?

Pete: I am in this group chat, Macau. 

Macau: Sorry 😬

Chay: He's not a human baby! He's a dog! 

Porsche: Chay! Dogs are a big responsibility! What about college?

Chay: I can walk him on some parts of campus! You are acting like I can’t take him anywhere. And even if I can't take him somewhere, you are acting like you won't watch him. 

Porsche: I won't! You got yourself into this mess! I'm not taking care of him! 

Chay: Meet Koda! 

Porsche: …I will protect him with my life. 

Pol: Awwwww ♥️

Khun: HE IS THE CUTEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!! I’M AN UNCLE!!!! ❤️🧡🧡💚🩵💙

Nalin: You already are an uncle, Khun! 🙂♥️

Arm: Why are you in this group chat???

Nalin: To gather stray gossip about you. You're SO interesting despite how boring you can be. 

Arm: Who added you?

Nalin: Why do you not want me included? You could just be grateful that I take an interest in your life? 

Arm: Huh? 

Porsche: Did he pose like that? 

Chay: Yes! He was jumping for a ball. When I pulled my phone out to take a picture, he looked at me, then stood up on his hind legs and gave me that look! He's SO smart and sweet. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone. 

Porsche: Wow. Kim and I are RIGHT HERE. 

Kim: He has said it fifteen times to me and your ma already. We both accept it. He's a sweet dog. Great actor too. He acted sickly and depressed while we were at the shelter. We took him to the pet store and that all stopped. He kept pulling us through the aisles and taking all the toys he was interested in off the hooks. 

Chay: And he got every single one because he deserves them. 🥰

Kim: Not for his abilities on a leash. 

Chay: Fine. He needs some practice on a leash. But he doesn't jump on anyone unless you prompt him to jump up on his hind legs. He's perfect. And he wasn't faking being sick, Kim. You know he has problems. We can both see the polyp and inflammation in his ear! But Kim is telling the truth. His personality changed within minutes. It must have sunk in that he finally found a loving home. ♥️ Mindset and support can do wonders to alleviate depression and chronic pain! He's not even 3 yet and the staff said his asshole owner dropped him off there when he was only 8 months old! He was there for over two years and no one showed him any interest because of his ear problems. I can't believe that vet wouldn't come out and operate on him for another week. That's why we got a hold of Phoenix’s vet. We dropped his paperwork off at the office and he said he could do the surgery in two days. 

Kim: Probably for the best. That way, you aren't stressing about it and compromising your interview and practical. 

Chay: Or when we meet with your label next weekend. 

Kim: OUR label. 

Arm: Are you both sitting at the park together but talking through here? 

Chay: You all are free to jump in at any moment. 

Nalin: Your dog is really cute, Chay! I love dogs. ♥️

Macau: You do? I do too! I’ve been thinking about getting a dog. 

Vegas: Since when? You've never even had one. 

Macau: I've always wanted one. 

Nalin: If you get one, Preeda volunteers at a rescue near our apartment. 

Macau: I'll go there first ☺️

Nalin: 😁

Arm: 🤨

Vegas: 🙄

Pete: Do you have more pictures, Chay? 

Pete: Very cute. 🙂

Kinn: I'm looking forward to meeting him. 🙂

Tankhun: I am too! 🤗 Although, it is bad timing. 

Chay: Getting Koda today was PERFECT timing. 

Kim: He will not take any critique that includes Koda’s name in it. Watch it. He's come up with three songs about him in the last twenty minutes.

Porsche: Aww. Are they good?

Kim: They’re…songs. 

Tankhun: I'm not critiquing a new family member. But I was going to reach out in a bit to see if you, Kinn, Vegas, and Macau were available tonight. I wanted to go to Yok’s together and rent out the VIP room for long overdue brotherly/cousinly drunken bonding!!! 😩

Vegas: You want to get drunk together?

Tankhun: Of course! 

Vegas: What's your angle?

Tankhun: Finding out Pa’s angle is my angle! And I want to spend time with my brothers - who know him the best, as well as with you and Macau - who hate him the most!

Vegas: How did the breakfast with him go? 

Tankhun: He arrived set on ending the relationship and ended up taking away Arm’s guard status!

Nalin: You don't have a job anymore, Hia???

Tankhun: He gave him a better job. Arm is to solely focus on the technical aspect of our security system. The only duty he will be keeping from his time as head guard is overseeing the intake and routine trainings. To fill up his time, Pa has offered him the Chief Information Officer for the Theerapanyakul Luxury and Amenities Brand. And then, he called him “son.” 🤢

Vegas: Sounds like he actually approves, but has taken an interest in him. That sucks. 

Macau: Congratulations on the new job, Arm. 🙂

Arm: Thank you? 

Vegas: 🙄 Suck up. 

Arm: What? 

Nalin: Glad you're not jobless. You get dangerous when you're bored. That's what Malai and Hansa always say.

Arm: They exaggerate. 

Pol: You literally built toy cars that explode on a slow work day. 

Vegas: YOU built those? 

Tankhun: To be fair, I gave him the idea. 

Vegas: Well, I figured that. 

Tankhun: Let’s get drunk together and move past it! Macau too! 

Vegas: No Macau. 

Macau: Hia, I am legally allowed to drink now. 

Vegas: Not around me.

Macau: Fine. I will just go somewhere else and drink. Alone. 

Vegas: You won't. 

Macau: Why can't I see you drunk? You're a messy drunk, aren't you? 

Vegas: No

Tankhun: I can't speak for Vegas, but I can assure you I am incredibly classy and low-key when I am under the influence. 

Arm: 😂🤣😂

Tankhun: ARM, YOU ARE ONE TO USE THOSE EMOJIS TO TRY AND ACT LIKE YOU ARE A BETTER DRUNK THAN ME! 🥃🍻🕺🏼⛳

Pol: I don’t remember Arm ever golfing when he was drunk…

Nalin: I want to see Hia drunk. 

Arm: Absolutely not. 

Tankhun: I promise we will have a girls’ night, Nalin. I am in full support of Arm inviting you girls to spend time with Pete, Pol, and Porsche. If you choose to drink together, that's your call. But I feel like an exclusive hang out with my brother and cousins is needed at Yok’s

Nalin: Fine. I will crash your hangout at Pete’s, Hia. 

Macau: I will be home too. Hia doesn't want me to go to Yok’s. Sorry, Khun. 

Vegas: Changed my mind. You can go. 

Macau: It's okay. I don't want to make you feel weird. That's how nice I am. 

Tankhun: You're going, Macau. It's required! 

Macau: Whatever…

Nalin: 🫶🏼

Tankhun: Aw, Nalin. You're so sweet. ♥️ you too! 

Chay: Kim can go. Koda and I will be fine. We're heading back now. 🙂

Tankhun: Yayyyyy! I can't wait to meet my new nephew and spend time with my brothers and cousins tonight!!! It will be so much fun!

Vegas: If you say so? 

Macau: …Yay.

Tankhun: Oh, fuck off! We all made up! See you at 8. 🖕🏼

[edutainer2022]

This is a glimpse of my bosom future!headcanon timeline. Just 'cause (I came across a West Wing gif-set, probably why). It also features in Timey-Wimey and Piano Practice. Though, always in flux the future is... Virgil and Kayo have a chat - they worry about Scott. A lot. That's it, that's the story. Some things, old and new, hurt.

Warning: an OC death mentioned in passing (please, read the end note*, if you kindly make it that far).

WORRIES

A gust of wind ruffled his hair - still trademark styled, but more liberally sprinkled with salt and silver now - as Shadow landed on the pad. Kayo still used her trusty old bird for errands and investigative missions, although her flightsuit was a mandatory solid black of the Secret Service now. Ms. Kyrano, Chief of World President's Security Detail, joined him wordlessly at the railings of the rooftop terrace, overlooking the magnificent vista of the Alps, crystal blue sky and the beautiful city below. Virgil sighed.

"I need updates on his BP and heart rate stats twice a day, uploaded to my comm directly. Thrice a day if there's a... situation or Ambassador Lemaire shows up, or the First Lady starts a war or something..."

Kayo suppressed a smile and leaned sideways on the railing.

"Eos gleans his stats every morning and every night before bedtime from all the residences sensors."

"Yeah, but Eos doesn't have access to the situation room. Not that Scott knows of, anyway. And I can't risk..."

Virgil was short for breath and the last words came out as a croak. Kayo squinted and squeezed his arm.

"You don't approve?"

"That he had a cardiac episode after the memorial service and then went on to take the most stressful job in the world? No, I well damn don't approve!"

Virgil's knuckles went white from the grip on the railings. Kayo stayed silent, giving room to his anguish, a hand on his bicep an unwavering anchor. When dark brown eyes next turned back to her, they were glistening with a sheen of tears.

"How does he do it, Kayo? After we lost Jeffy Jr.*? I can't breathe sometimes, it hurts so bad! And I'm just an uncle."

The pain flared readily from an ever fresh wound. Virgil's voice hitched:

"Allie felt so guilty he left for that deep space mission! I'm so scared all the time. How does Scott even cope?!"

Kayo snorted at that.

"Have you MET Scott? He doesn't."

A wide arch of the black clad arm indicated the massive World President Residence and Offices all around and below them.

"He hoisted up the heaviest mantle he could fathom and let duty consume his every waking and sleeping hour, drowning out all other thoughts. There's nothing much heavier than the weight of the actual world, huh?"

"Guess not. That's what worries me most..."

Virgil's sigh was tinged with bottomless rue this time. Keeping busy with International Rescue is the one thing that keeps me from going crazy. The echo of the words biggest brother said to him so many years ago, on a dark, dark snowy night, rippled through memory. He hoped so much they were past... THAT stretch of self-destructive coping. For a blissful while, moreso after Dad got back, they were. Jeffy Jr. and Skye were born. It went unspoken between them all, but Jeffy was their golden chance at a Scott that was happy and carefree, encouraged and inspired by legacy, but not subsumed or crashed by it. But they were the Tracies, so the universe would never let them truly catch a break. Ever, it seemed...

Kayo, ever the psy-ops, ever the bereft family like them all, sensed a need to shift the subject to something brighter.

"Did you get to see Lucy rehearse?"

Virgil's whole face lit up immediately and he beamed at her.

"Oh yes! I was at the dress rehearsal, and she asked me to accompany her after lunch today, for vocal practice before the premiere! Though I think it's more of a courtesy - she's got world class concert pianists at her disposal."

Kayo was smiling fondly in return. Virgil's kids were as much a reflection of his kind and caring nature, and talent, as Scott's son and daughter were that of his consuming drive, focus, and dedication to duty. Okay, maybe not to go there at the moment! Kayo waved the imaginary wisps of hair out of her eyes to blink away unwarranted tears and regroup.

"Have you considered you're maybe Lucy's favorite world-class concert pianist?"

Virgil's smile was impish, yet full of love. A sudden idea occurred, as his glance fell on the Shadow, and made him gasp.

"Please, tell me he's not cowboying it here in Delta-One?!"

Kayo actually let herself laugh at the implication. They certainly wouldn't put it past Scott to ditch the entourage and take his augmented Thunderbird out for a spin.

"Relax! The Joint Chiefs requested an on-the-go meeting, so it's a scenic route across the Atlantic on a GDF bus. No Delta-drive jumps for our favorite Commander today. Besides, the whole media circus tagged along from NYC. Nobody would miss the World President's favorite niece perform Carmen at the Season opening of Vienna Opera."

"Scott doesn't have favorites!"

The response was automatic, which scored another of Kayo's smile. It wasn't quite a secret the family consensus placed Scott a higher ranking Dad in the overarching hierarchy of Tracy parents. Jeff Sr., the proud Grandpa, was more of a partner in crime and a co-conspirator to everyone's endless befuddlement.

Virgil's take-away from her previous statement was, however, unexpected.

"So there IS a situation?! Kayo, I need his stats THE MOMENT they land!"

"Nothing your Casey had warranted worthy of high treason to inform me about. Virgil, it's fine. He'll be fine!"

That was true. Virgil's second youngest was currently the Deputy Chief of Communications of the World President office and, besides Kayo herself, the family's trusty person on the inside. She virtually worshipped the ground her Big Uncle walked and would flag anything potentially too worrisome with regard to his mood or health. Besides, John would probably know in advance anyway if it were Bereznik or any number of regions giving grief du jour (something the World President himself probably didn't need to know about, for plausible deniability and a semblance of restful sleep).

Kayo made a point to amend her reassurance with a shoulder squeeze. Dark brown eyes turned to her were frantic again.

"Look after him, will you?!"

Kayo gave a firm nod in acknowledgement. A pang of an old heartache flared up. But it became a well practiced, tried and true spiel between them, through the years - he was burning himself to light up the world, she was the shadow.

---------

*[spoiler alert] The relentless narrative logic and poetic symmetry part of me dictates that Scott, in the later arch of his journey, would, very likely, have to loose a son to his own legacy and footsteps. The way Jeff dodged a bullet (just barely). But the regular bleeding heart part of me screams in agony in the face of such abject tragedy and comes up with elaborate scenarios in my head how it all could eventually be okay. Dad Jeff couldn't have used up all of Tracy limit of miracles.

[azucar-skull]

Shedding some light on my situation:

Yesterday, I opened up emergency commissions out of the blue with a very brief explanation on the current crisis at home. As promised, here are some more details on the situation.

Last Thanksgiving, I got disowned by half of my family on my mother's side after I exposed my abusers for what they are. Ever since I got home, it's one thing after another.

Recovery (physically from injuries too), chronic illness diagnosis, Grandpa having a hospital emergency (where I had to clean up his blood), Green Eyed Mask going on hiatus due to stress, finally finishing GEM...then my dad broke the TV.

It was so unlike him to be shouting at my mom for no reason, in my gut, I knew there was a bigger picture.

Dad getting upset, my aunts and uncles coming to visit more often, telling everyone to not say "Happy birthday" to Grandpa because he's too far gone, my abuela bringing out Grandpa's antiques from his time in military.

Last week, I was let out of class early and arrived home to everyone huddled in the kitchen with paperwork. While no one was looking, I saw that the paperwork was for Grandpa's will.

My grandpa is now 88 years old, the youngest sibling in his immediate family. His older brothers and father died at war, his sister and mother of old age. It was a given that this year is his last, he'll be lucky if he makes it to July.

A long anticipated death causes stress on the entire family. I've noticed that my body is out of balance, sobbing at random intervals all day even if I'm feeling fine. It's messing up my sleep, appetite, even my fucking periods which were already a bitch in the first place.

I avoided telling you guys because art is what kept me going. I would hide in my room and draw all day, the rest of the world fading. That's all I do now, hide.

But everyone else in my family is suffering too. My dad broke the TV 2 months ago and home is falling apart by the day. My brother opted to stealing food from the grocery store and living off of chicken tenders and fries from the deli. Mom is never seen, absorbed in her own work as much as I am. The house is a mess, the fridge is empty, bills piling up, riding pay check to paycheck.

It's not that we are poor or losing financial stability (I think), if we were I could turn to my community college for help but I'm not eligible. It's the fact that everyone is so down and busy that we forget the basics like food, long overdue haircuts, doctor appointments, taking care of the dogs, etc.

It's an "every man for themselves" kind of situation. And as a disabled person, I'm unable to work a stable job. So that's why I opened commissions. Money that I can hold of my own should there be a situation like now where I had to buy food the second I got my first order.

But this also means I am going to be more busy taking care of myself and my family. Comic production will be delayed a bit, and I unfortunately can't say for sure if Feral Casey AU will be ready by the end of May.

All I ask is for your support and patience. Reblogging my commission post helps a lot more than you think. And thank you again for everything.

Commission Post

[bengiyo]

Bed Friend Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last time, things came to a terrible head with Krit, who tried to assault Uea in his office and then also tried to ingratiate himself with Uea's mom. Uea broke things off with King after he insinuated that Uea wanted Krit to be gross to him. Uea also told him mom off very loudly and publicly for protecting his abuser. Thankfully, Uea told Jade about what has been going on, and at this point Uea has resigned. He's now taking a trip to get away, but it's clear he's still thinking about King.

I don't know who this aunt is, but she's the first elder we've seen in this show that has any regard for Uea as a person, and is the only elder who has asked if they can touch Uea.

Oh, Uea. You can't text message breakup.

With how bad car violence is in Thailand, it's so alarming to see King trying to use his phone while driving stressed.

King finding out that Uea resigned because Krit finally pushed too far:

Did Net/King use a different accent when he asked for a room?

Honestly, Net and James are the most beautiful acting pairs I've ever seen.

I adore Jade. He's right to call King an idiot and chide him for all of these mixed signals.

I really love the way James embodies Uea. The way he clenches his jaw and steels himself for asking, "Do my feelings matter?" lands so clearly.

I feel like I recognize the actress playing Belle.

I'm glad Belle and King are united against their parents.

These boys talking about the intensity of their feelings. I'm gonna need Uncles Cheep and Dej to come talk to them about making it work long term.

Uea is so good about setting boundaries. It's sad because his are so constantly violated.

Net has a very affective pout.

I like seeing Uea smile in amusement again.

Holy shit that is an enormous statue.

I hope we have some Buddhist fans in the tag, because I'm curious about these rituals we're seeing in the montage.

Krit was really trying to assault an employee in a room with CCTV. This man is disgusting and stupid.

Cheewin did some nice stuff with the shots in the office lounge area.

Okay, I get why they have this confrontation with the CEO, but legitimately I hope this also went to the HR department and people were properly fired.

Did this company not have a sexual harassment policy before this incident?

I'm not a survivor, and would like to know how others feel about the company providing for Uea to seek mental health care.

I'm glad we don't have to hate Mongkol. It's good to show that Mongkol and Krit aren't on the same level, but both believed they could rely on nepotism to do whatever they want. They really just wanted him to contribute to the team.

Once again, James is so beautiful. This outdoor shot in the black and white outfit? GORGEOUS!

'"Because I'm beautiful." He's so right.

We're 43 minutes into the episode and Uea is wearing red again while King is doing everything he can to hold the horny in. Uea knows and is being a menace. I'm sure @respectthepetty is having a blast.

Oh, Uea is going to reveal his trauma to King. No more jokes.

I just really love the way these two talk to each other.

Between this and A Boss and a Babe, I'm glad to see characters taking pills for mental health reasons treated as a normal part of their health care.

Obsessed with the I'm a Weirdo shirt and how it looks like Uea's heart is bleeding, as King wears a black hoodie with a red rose over his heart.

This is uncomfortable, but it's true that Uea is likely not his only victim.

Oh lord, we gotta deal with yet another person hitting on Uea, Sorn's arrest, and King's parents striking back next week.

I'm excited for James and Net to get another show this year. I've deeply enjoyed their scene work together for the last two months.

[pollen-blogs]

Uhm so, I wrote this Amanene fankids ficlet to de-stress about my exams and also cuz I'm sick and I needed to do something simple to occupy myself. I'm sharing it because "the human connection will make me feel like a human again- what?"

Fic under Keep Reading. If this does well, I might post it to AO3

For the first time since their second child was born, Nene finally got a whole day with the house and bed to herself. Meanwhile, Amane owed Tsubaki a daddy-daughter date - albeit, with Tsugumi in tow - that was long overdue. However, before they could do that, Amane had to explain that they needed to make a quick stop to get groceries to acquire the food that kept them alive along with other products that made them not stink. It was still a difficult concept for Tsubaki to grasp but as long as she got a strawberry icecream for her troubles, everything was fine.

So here they were; Amane was walking through the aisles, and crossing things off the list. While Tsubaki was sitting in the cart’s baby seat, kicking her feet and looking around curiously, Tsugumi was strapped to his father’s back, sleeping soundly as he was being rocked by all the walking around. Unlike his older sister, Tsugumi was a calm newborn who didn’t act up too much and loved his beauty sleep; much to Amane and Nene’s relief. They got through the list pretty quickly, but reached the dreaded item, as per Kou’s request. Amane steeled himself and headed into the toy aisle. As he tried to choose a good gift for his niece/granddaughter  - Kou and Sousuke’s daughter, Ageha - he could see in his peripheral vision his own child’s eyes move to every single toy on the shelf. 

“... Baba?” 

Oh for the love of- “Yes, sweetie?” he said, forcing his voice to remain neutral. Tsubaki pointed towards a doll Amane could have sworn she already had. 

“Can I have this pleeeassseee?” She asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes that had a track record of making her poor father break on multiple occasions. 

“I don’t know, is it on the list?” He asked rhetorically. Tsubaki, being only five years old at the time, just stared at him and shrugged. Amane smiled affectionately and ruffled her hair. “It’s not, baby. We’re only buying something for your cousin. Uncle Kou and Sousuke are coming over next week.” He reminded her while he kept looking through the toys in front of him. Tsubaki seemed to think long and hard about something. 

“Why can’t I have things that aren’t on the list?” She asked. 

“Cuz we only buy things that are on the list.” Amane responded immediately, remembering the long lecture he and Nene got from all the 3 grandparents for ‘spoiling Tsubaki too much’ after they had helped them sell the thousands of toys that she had grown bored of in the span of two weeks.

“It’s not like the earth would blow up if we bought something that wasn’t on the list…” Tsubaki mumbled under her breath. 

“Who says it couldn’t?” Amane reasoned. Tsubaki stared at him confusedly. 

“It could do that?” She asked. 

“I mean, it exists because of an explosion, so… Maybe?” Amane was multi-tasking; he worked on distracting Tsubaki while also trying to choose between two purple barbies. He eventually put them both down when he remembered the last conversation he had with Kou a few days ago where he told him that after years of purple being her favourite color, Ageha woke up one day and suddenly decided that it was the worst thing to ever exist. 

Tsubaki looked like she was struggling to understand what her dad meant by that. “... What?” 

“The big bang, sweetie.” He clarified, finally turning to face Tsubaki as he had found a gift: a pair of turquoise fairy wings. “There was an explosion a billion years ago and it made the earth. Well, I’ll explain that better when you’re older.” 

Tsubaki tilted her head to the side. “Did you see that happen?” 

“Of course not!” Amane exclaimed. “Hold on- how old do you think I am?” It was in moments like that that Amane was grateful that Tsubaki still struggled to count over one hundred.

“Seventy eight! Mommy said so!” She recalled proudly. Amane paled and hurried to mentally calculate if Tsubaki and Nene were wrong or if he really was a decrepit old man. 

… 

…“...I’m physically thirty two.” He muttered before walking away and going back to explaining the big bang to a toddler, which was much easier than thinking about the fact that you were physically forty six years younger than you were supposed to be.

[never-not-ever]

long complainy ramble about family 🙃

It's my own fault for offering to help my cousin but Thursday-Monday I'm doing so much both for and with her. I wrote up so much in my notes app that I was just going to transfer here but it's so much useless/too much info lol. Basically I offered to babysit my 1 year old nephew on Saturday while she helps someone move. She'll be gone for like 6 hours which isn't that bad but I'm a little worried watching him BUT we also just realized today that I'll be watching him while this older lady is at her house.. it's a long complicated story. But I was on the phone with my cousin and I was like "I was already feeling eh about Saturday and now I have to be there with some random lady who I don't know?!? Ughhh"...

I'm also driving up there on Friday to pick up my older nephew who is staying upstairs with my Nana for the weekend and driving him back on Monday (was going to be Sunday but he has no school Monday and my cousin asked if I could watch him Monday while she works cause supposedly my Nana has plans 🙃).

Oh and I'm supposed to be hanging out with my cousin tomorrow and it was going to just be for like an hour (she didn't want to be home alone and asked if I wanted to hang, another long story but basically she ruminates, worries, and stresses about her boyfriend being sneaky so she likes the company/distraction...). Like now that I moved this to it's own post I can ramble on.. But the original plan was that no, I can't come hang out cause Nana needs the car to go visit her brother. He lives halfway to my cousins house so she said "what if you dropped Nana off (she needs to be there at 11) and then go pick her up after. Fine. But my Nana went from "I'll probably be done by 2" to "if I need to leave at 1, cause Uncle may need to rest, could you come back and get me then". So that means I wouldn't get to my cousins til 11:30, possibly have to leave at 12:30 to get my Nana at 1. IT JUST DIDN'T MAKE SENSE!!!!!! I'm complaining about it and as I'm typing it out I'm like this really isn't that big of a deal, you sound like a dramatic crybaby. But like after helping her out so much with her 1 year olds birthday party last Saturday I couldn't wait for all my obligations to finally, finally be over...

Then my dumbass goes and offers up more help to her. Like she has a stressful life right now. Being around her I'm constantly reminded of that. We talk a lot on the phone so I'm listening to it all. I'm glad we've gotten close and don't get me wrong as much as I complain it's not 100% a one-sided relationship. We talk about other stuff too but the majority of it is her life and her drama and some of it is getting to be too much for me to witness. I really don't want to talk too much more about it (I say, as I continue to type paragraphs) but my older nephew has so many behavioral and mental issues and my cousin is so stressed out about it but at the same time when I'm with them and I hear the fighting I cringe because- I don't even know why. I can't explain it. Then on top of that she has a dog that I hardly see cause it's usually locked in the bathroom cause she's kind of untrained and a terror and with the 1 year old baby out and about it's hard. But my cousin has had so many dogs and they never work out and her Aunt who lives with her/is moving on Saturday is the only one who takes care of the dog but it's my cousin and her boyfriends dog. My cousin is always complaining about the dog and I love animals and hate that the dog is never out.

UGHHH it's like so much complaining. I listen to it all the time. I hear fighting, and screaming, and it's sort of a reminder of my childhood. And at the same time it's like she has all this stress in her life and I have nothing. Except for a brain that hates me and tries to kill me at times. Like my depression and SI... for what? Whenever I've gone inpatient in the past I never was as close to my cousin as I am now but like all I can think about is how easy I have it and how simple my life is right now. She talks about being depressed, hating her life, suicide, but she can't cause she has a new baby who she is so in love with. She has a lot of struggles and has even said it before about wishing she could go into the hospital at times to get help but she can't. Then here I am nonchalantly, always in the back of my mind wondering when that inevitable return is going to happen.

[weirdestbooks]

The Shot Heard Around the World Chapter 5

Stamps and Riots (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

March 22, 1765

Thirteen was very stressed about the acts. If he tried to talk about them with his father or his Uncle England, they would either explain the acts to him like he was a child or hit him until he shut up. And it was starting to take more hits to shut him up. 

Thirteen knew that would only make him lose his good standing with his father, but he didn’t care! His people hated this, and he felt their anger; he couldn’t just ignore it for his father's sake, no matter how much safer that would be.

Thirteen wanted to do something. He tried to fix this issue without causing things with his father to deteriorate further. He knew his father was only doing what he thought was best, but it wasn’t working.

‘Then do something!’

Thirteen’s head had been aching lately, and conflicting thoughts argued about the best way to deal with the acts and preserve his standing with his father. Eventually, Thirteen ended up punching his bedframe and marching out of his room, hoping that a walk through the garden would help him clear his head.

However, when Thirteen walked past his father's study, he heard his name being mentioned. Thirteen knew it was impolite, but he was curious to listen to what they were saying and began to eavesdrop.

‘The conversation mentioned you, so it’s probably appropriate to eavesdrop.’

‘And it’s probably about how you aren’t blindly following his every word.’

"After Thirteen acted over the last act, I'm not going to give him any warning for this act. He won't get upset over the taxes once he sees how the benefits outweigh the costs. They are perfectly reasonable. He's just too emotional to think clearly without seeing the benefits," Thirteen heard his father say.

‘Seriously? We aren’t hotheaded!’

‘Legitimate concerns for our people are us being too emotional?’

Thirteen was furious. Another act would affect his people; his father didn't even want him to know about it. Thirteen was upset about the recent act because it could negatively affect his people. Thirteen doesn't even get a say in the taxes. If the acts will affect him, shouldn't he get a say?

‘He doesn’t respect you.’

‘He’s a country, we’re a colony. It’s like if a commoner tried to lecture a king about what was better for the country.’

‘But what if the commoner is right? Birth isn’t everything!’

Thirteen exhaled deeply, working up the courage to confront his father before he threw caution to the wind and opened the door.

"What do you mean there's a new act?" Thirteen asked, barging into his father's study. His father and Uncle England were both there, and both of them looked pissed to see him there.

"Colonies, barging into your Father's study is rude," England snarled at Thirteen before grabbing his arm, England’s claws digging into his arm. Thirteen clenched his teeth and decided to stand his ground.

‘You idiot!’

‘You’re going to get yourself hurt! Do you think England and Britain are going to let this slide?’

"What new act are you putting on my people now?" Thirteen yelled at his father and Uncle England. Thirteen’s people had already clarified that they were upset with the colonists sending their protests to London. His father knew they weren't happy with the taxes, but he kept putting them on him and his people anyway.

"Colonies-" his Uncle England began before being cut off by his father.

"England. Let me talk to him." England looked at Britain and nodded. Thirteen’s father turned to him, an annoyed rage behind his eyes, instinctively making Thirteen shrink back.

"Thirteen, you will understand these acts are for the good of the empire. They aren't placed to hurt you or your people." Thirteen cut his father off as he began his speech on how everything was for the good of the empire.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child! I'm one hundred and eighty years old! I understand politics! Explain what this act does and why you decided that keeping it a secret from me was the best idea!" Thirteen yelled at his father, causing dangerous tension to fall across the room as England’s grip on Thirteen tightened. Thirteen didn’t care. He was tired of being treated like a child. He was physically twenty-two and one hundred and eighty, so why couldn’t he be treated like an adult?

‘He doesn’t respect us!’

‘He likes to think of us as a child because we are his child.’

How could his father think keeping an act, which his father knows he might not like, a secret? Finding out about the act after it goes into place and starts affecting his people will make Thirteen more furious than finding out beforehand.

‘Does he ever think ahead regarding things like this?’

‘He probably didn’t even think of our reaction if it were secret, and we found out later!’

His father struck Thirteen across the face before explaining the act, indicating that Britain would not accept any arguments. "It's called the Stamp Act. It will directly tax all colonial commercial and legal papers, newspapers, pamphlets, cards, almanacs, and dice."

‘Is he serious? That’s a lot of significant things to tax.’

‘Nobody’s going to like this…’

"Colonies,” England said, his claws cutting so deep into Thirteen’s arm that he wanted to cry. This is a standard revenue device in my country. Sir George Grenville hopes these taxes can at least partially cover the costs of the Seven Years' War and Pontiac's War." 

Thirteen couldn't believe it. He was being used as a source of money so his family could pay off their debts. Why was it suddenly his job to finance his father’s wars, wars that he couldn’t even participate in without permission?

‘They’re acting like we’re the ones that spent all his money!’

‘It was used to protect us from a war we inadvertently helped start.’

"Why am I the only person helping you pay back your debts? And it's your debt! Why do I have to pay them back for you?" Thirteen shouted at them. If his father was angry before, it was nothing compared to now. His father hit him again, this time directly on his nose, and Thirteen’s free hand flew upwards to cover his face as a small amount of blood began leaking out of his nose.

"Thirteen. I will not tolerate this. I suggest you learn to control yourself before I am forced to take drastic measures." Father began scolding me.

"Explain why I’m in charge of paying back debts.” Thirteen said, trying to keep his voice even. His father stuck him again before explaining, his tone condescending.

"Most of the money I spent during the Seven Years' War and Pontiac's War was to protect you. Therefore, it's only logical that you help pay it back." Father explained before grabbing Thirteen’s chin and forcing him to look into his eyes, “Are you done throwing a fit now?”

Thirteen was trembling now. He had never talked back to his father like this, but something about venting all his frustrations was free, even though it earned him a beating. So Thirteen pressed on, knowing that he had to seize the moment before he lost his nerve or before his father locked him away for this.

‘I can’t tell if this is brave or stupid.’

‘Try both.’

"What about my say in this? You can't expect me to be taxed endlessly without some sort of say. My people have already told you that taxation of my colonies without colonial assent was a violation of their rights!" Thirteen managed to get out through his father’s grip on his chin, earning him another hit to his stomach, forcing a wheeze out of Thirteen.

"You don't have a say. You're a colony." England said before releasing his grip on Thirteen’s arm, causing Thirteen to fall to the ground as he gripped his now bleeding arm.

‘But we are British citizens! We deserve the rights of British citizens, not this!’

"Do British citizens get a say in your lawmaking?" Thirteen wheezed. 

“And we listen to their protests, but colonists are unfit for lawmaking. Your fit today has proved that.” His father said before grabbing Thirteen’s injured arm and dragging him out of the room. Fear ran through Thirteen’s body as he realized what would happen. 

He would get locked in that dark closet again, all for trying to defend his people.

‘That’s not right.’

Yes, it is. Thirteen thought. His father was in charge, and he made the rules. Thirteen broke them intentionally, so he had to deal with the punishment.

Thirteen knew what he was getting himself into. He still wanted to cry.

————————————————————————————

May 15, 1765

Ever since his father tried to blindside me with the Stamp Act, Thirteen had watched Parliament and its actions. It had only been two months since the Stamp Act when Thirteen found out his father tried to keep him in the dark about another act.

‘I don’t know if we should trust him as much as we do after all this.’

‘I don’t think we should be confronting him after last time.’

‘He’s already mad at us. Why does it matter?’

‘Things can get worse!’

‘Things are worse!’

"Why do my people need to pay for your soldiers when we aren't at war? Why do you need to keep soldiers in my land?" Thirteen asked his father, trying to keep any anger out of his voice as he confronted Britain.

‘He wants more control over us! It’s the most logical conclusion!’

‘Or he’s being incredibly overprotective.’

‘Or it’s because we’ve been more willing to talk back to him, and you know he hates that.’

"Thirteen, General Thomas Gage was having trouble convincing the colonists to pay for the provisions and quartering of troops on the march. Something I assume has to do with your attitude as of late." Father explained, voice sharp.

‘We don’t think for our people, they think for us, he knows this.’

‘Does it matter? What matters is that we have been breaking the rules and disobeying him.’

‘But the rules aren’t…it’s not…’

"We're at peace! Why do you need an army in my land? The French have been defeated and no longer have any land to attack me from.” Thirteen pointed out. His father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Come now, Thirteen. It's just the Mutiny Act with a few extra provisions added to it. I don’t know why you have had such a hard time understanding how things work as of late," he said in a slightly condescending tone, like he was talking to a child. Thirteen’s brows furrowed, and he began to grow angrier.

‘Why does he feel the need to treat us like a child?’

"STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I'M A CHILD!” Thirteen yelled before clasping his hands over his mouth. 

He just yelled at his father. Against his will, he began shaking slightly.

"Thirteen." Father began scolding Thirteen with a hard edge before hitting him hard—not a light slap or anything, but a punch to the face that hurt a lot. "You will not speak to your Father that way."

Thirteen gave his father a jerky nod.

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry; please forgive me.” Thirteen begged. He wanted to show his father that the acts were helping, but he didn’t mean to yell. He didn’t want to do that.

Did he?

‘It felt good. It made him listen.’

‘We got in trouble.’

‘But he paid attention.’

This act was so...so…

Why did his Father think he had the right to do this? Sure, the Mutiny Act required his people to house soldiers in barracks and public houses, which was reasonable. But this new act would make his people house them in inns, stables, ale houses, the houses of people who sold alcohol, uninhabited houses, outhouses, barns, and any other building we could spare for His Majesty's oh-so-great army.

‘We have to give up our spaces and our things for an army we don’t need.’

Thirteen didn’t think his people would be nice about their displeasure for these acts.

And he was apprehensive about the inevitable explosion.

—————————————————————————

August 14, 1765

Thirteen felt like he was going insane. He was helping some Bostonians hang an effigy of Andrew Oliver under an elm tree at the crossing of Essex and Orange Streets. 

He was hanging an effigy of a Stamp Act rax collector using his country face.

Thirteen knew Father would be furious about this, and he knew that news of this would eventually get back to his father, but he was still doing it anyway.

‘Who cares what he thinks?’

‘You told him your people would be mad. It's time he learned to listen to our concerns instead of ignoring us.’

‘He wants to do what’s best, but he just doesn’t understand what it’s like here. It’s not his fault.’

‘I think it is.’

“I don’t know about that.’

Thirteen tried to push aside the mental argument as the debate continued. Looking to his side, he saw a man hanging a jackboot painted green on the tree.

"What's that for?" he asked. The man laughed and smiled.

"A Green-ville sole. Representing those bastards Grenville and the Earl of Bute. We wouldn’t have this tax if it weren't for them." The man explained. Thirteen laughed at his joke. The man was right. Those two, along with his father (although part of Thirteen wanted to defend his father’s innocence), had caused these idiotic taxes to be placed on Thirteen and his people in the first place.

Thirteen and a few of his stepped back to observe their work, symbolizing their anger. More and more of Thirteen’s people were showing up to observe the effigy. Some people even began detouring merchants and having them symbolically stamp their goods under the tree. Thirteen could feel the excitement of the crowd growing.

‘Something’s about to happen.’

‘People are getting worked up. We should leave.’

‘And leave our people? Britain taught us to stand by our decisions. We have to do that.’

‘This is going to get us into trouble.’

‘We’re already in trouble. What’s a bit more?’

‘This is far more than a bit.’

"Move! Move! I am the sheriff, and Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson has ordered me to take down this effigy immediately!" Thirteen heard Sheriff Greenleaf call over the crowd as he tried to get through the crowds and take down the effigy. But his efforts were in vane, as the crowd refused to let him.

‘Oh, this won’t end well.’

"Let him hang on the Liberty Tree!" one person yelled, and Thirteen froze, knowing things were about to get bad. Sheriff Greenleaf tried several more times to reach the elm tree, which by now been nicknamed 'Liberty Tree,’ according to what Thirteen was hearing people yell. Sheriff Greenleaf eventually gave up when he realized the crowds would never let him through. 

‘I’m glad that it didn't end violently.’

‘Someone tells me you’re speaking too soon on that.’

The crowd stayed around the tree for hours until the end of the day, when some of them began returning to their homes as the sun went down. Thirteen don’t know why he stayed with them. It was a waste of his time and a chance for him to incur his father’s wrath. Thirteen sighed and was about to head home when he noticed someone near the effigy.

‘What’s he doing?’

Thirteen knew that man. He was Ebenezer MacIntosh, a veteran of the French and Indian War. Why was he taking the effigy down?

"Let's have a funeral for Mr. Oliver!" He cried out to the crowd. 

‘So that’s what he’s doing.’

‘So we didn’t avoid violence. We should leave now..’

‘No, we need to stay and support them!’

That was going to scare Andrew Oliver, which is what they were hoping to achieve. They wanted him to back down and leave office. 

They began to march Andrew Oliver's effigy down to Town Hall, and Thirteen decided to follow.

‘Should we really be getting involved?’

‘No. This is a mistake.’

After they made it to Town Hall, they then made their way down to Andrew Oliver's office. 

The crowd yelled things against the Stamp Act and how it was unfair. No taxation without representation was a familiar rallying cry. Thirteen eventually started yelling it, too, despite his hesitations. The phrase summed up what he had been trying to say to his father. Thirteen liked it. 

‘We’re part of a mob.’

‘Britain’s going to kill us.’

Thirteen knew it was a mob, but he didn't care. His people’s anger was too intense for him to care about what his father had taught him, what he would think, and how badly this would go. 

‘You’re going to regret this.’

But Father hadn't listened to Thirteen’s legislatures before. Maybe these riots would draw his attention, and his father would address Thirteen’s problems with this act. 

‘Will violence really help?’

‘This might not be the best idea…’

‘It might be the only choice we have left.’

The conflicting thoughts tugged at Thirteen’s resolve, but he still helped tear down Andrew Oliver's office. Thirteen saw some people beginning to stamp the wood of Andrew Oliver's office. Thirteen laughed at that, seeing the men get their petty revenge.

‘I hope Andrew Oliver can pay the tax on his wood.’

"Let's take Oliver home now, boys!" Ebenezer MacIntosh yelled as people began moving in what Thirteen assumed was the direction of Andrew Oliver's house.

"You rioters! Go home!" A man yelled from his window. Subconsciously, Thirteen began to try to disappear into the crowd but shook his head. There was no use hiding himself. He was involved now, for better or for worse. People in the crowd started to laugh at the man.

"Not until the king ends this idiotic tax," a man yelled back at them. The man in the window looked angry but shut his window. 

‘See? Not all your people support this. You shouldn’t join in.’

The crowd continued making its way down to Andrew Oliver's house, although Thirteen was getting more nervous about being there as his thoughts became more conflicted.

When they got to the house, they split into two groups. One group began setting torches alight and headed to the stables. The other group headed towards Andrew Oliver's house broke into it, and began looting and destroying everything in it.

‘We shouldn’t-‘

‘Let’s help.’

Massach–Thirteen’s head felt odd as he walked towards Andrew Oliver’s house. The thoughts that this was bad were quieter like they had been muffled.

‘We should help loot the house.’

Thirteen felt a strange sense of satisfaction destroying the contents of Andrew Oliver's house. It was a payback for his father, making him pay this tax. Thirteen wouldn't be the perfect gr–son his father wanted him to be. M–Thirteen didn't care if his father thought this was treasonous or rebellious. It was what was right for his people.

‘Not all o-’

‘Yes, this is good for all of the colonists. We can’t be pushed around! We have rights!’

"The sheriff's back!" Someone yelled. Thirteen began making his way to the front of the building, where he saw Sheriff Greenleaf and Lieutenant Governor Hutchison.

"Stop this attack at once!" Greenleaf yelled. Thirteen knew that his people were too enraged at his father and king to listen to reason. And so was Massacuse–Thirteen himself. His father needs to remove this act. He needed to listen to his people. Then they’ll stop.

"No! We will make the fools in London listen to us! We will make them know we have no intention of paying their stupid stamp tax!" Another person yelled back. Thirteen saw a rock being thrown at the two before being followed by another. Greenleaf and Hutchison tried to reason with the mob several times but were eventually driven off.

‘That could have ended very badly.’

Thirteen and the others finished burning and destroying Andrew Oliver's things before breaking up and heading to their homes. After Thirteen’s argument with his father and anger over the acts, he left home and began staying in Boston, hoping his father didn’t send his Uncle England or a soldier to bring him back to Britain. 

That fear kept Thirteen on the move, traveling from colony to colony and reconnecting with some of the more prominent members of his colonies.

Thirteen was going to make them listen eventually. They couldn't ignore his voice forever, and if they were going to ignore the legislature's complaints with the Sugar Act, then for the Stamp Act, they were going to hear his people's complaints.

His father needed to listen to him, remove these acts, and give his people a voice in Parliament. Then, this would all be over. The protests could stop, and the damage in their relationship could be fixed.

Father just had to listen.

——————————————————————————

October 1765

If Thirteen’s father were upset by the protests and Thirteen attempting to question him about the acts, he would be furious with the Stamp Act Congress. Twenty-seven delegates from nine of Thirteen’s colonies. 

‘The rest should have sent people.’

‘Well, some colonies aren’t as bothered by the tax.’

‘And some have bigger problems than this.’

Unfortunately, Virginia, New Hampshire, Georgia, and North Carolina had not sent delegates.

But for those of the colonies that were there, they were going to draft a set of formal petitions explaining why Britain and his Parliament couldn't tax us. Hopefully, with the petitions and the protests, his father will listen to Thirteen, or at the very least let him ask questions with punishment.

‘I don’t think he will. You know how it is.’

‘Stubborn. Convincing him will be hard but not impossible.’

The Congress had been discussing the petition for a couple of days. Thirteen had mainly been sitting and observing, making sure the Stamp Act Congress knew who he was. Six of the colonies had agreed to sign the petitions, although the delegates from New York, Connecticut, and South Carolina had to get permission from their legislatures before they signed anything.

‘Which is going to slow things down for a while.’

Thirteen’s people had created "The Declaration of Rights and Grievances," written by John Dickson of Pennsylvania. This document listed fourteen points of why the people were protesting: that his people had all the rights of Englishmen, that Parliament couldn't tax us because Thirteen and his people had no voting rights in Parliament, that only the colonial legislatures had the right to tax Thirteen, and that using an admiralty court in non-naval matters was an abuse of power.

‘Britain probably won’t like us telling him he’s abusing his power.’

‘Well, he is, and we can’t just ignore it to make sure things are perfect between us.’

‘The other grievances are going to make him made enough. Why risk that one when we know what the consequences will be?’

‘We moved out for a reason. We’ll be fine.’

‘We have to talk to him eventually.’

Thirteen and his people’s rights as Englishmen weren't the only thing the Congress argued for. They also argued that his people had natural rights simply because they were human beings, which seemed to unite his conflicting thoughts for the first time.

However, it also brought back Thirteen’s memories of the past and reminded him of slavery. But then again, lesser beings were not human beings, and God had not given them the same rights he gave Thirteen’s people.

 ‘Slavery is a necessary evil anyway. No proper economy can survive without it.’

Thirteen sighed before pushing those thoughts aside and pondering back on the meetings. Christopher Gadsden of South Carolina thought that this document should only go to the king since the rights of his people didn't originate in Parliament. Still, the Congress and Thirteen agreed that that action was too radical and sent the document to both Houses of Parliament alongside the King.

Thirteen also sent a copy to his father, along with a letter asking him first for forgiveness and then to listen to Thirteen and his people and that removing the tax would be best for everyone. Thirteen ensured his father knew that protests against the Stamp Act weren't just something that occurred in seaside towns.

It was something that had spread to all thirteen of the colonies he represented.

‘And if he doesn’t listen, it could cause him some serious problems.’

——————————————————————————

Thirteen finished his conversation with the leaders of the Loyal Nine, now known as the Sons of Liberty. He had been asking them for advice on asking his father to remove the Stamp Act without angering him. Thirteen walked off and sighed, rubbing his fingers over a letter in his pocket.

It was from his father, asking me to come home to face the consequences of his actions and those of his people. Thirteen had been ignoring it for a while and hadn’t responded to his father. Thirteen had to talk to him eventually, though, which he wasn’t excited to do, as he knew he would most likely have to wait for his punishment to end before he would be allowed to speak. Thirteen sighed again, shoving aside his nerves before bringing himself home. He looked at his room for the first time in months. 

A lot of things were missing: books, personal objects, his pillows, all to be expected. Thirteen had broken far too many of his father's rules to be allowed to keep his personal things. Squaring his back, Thirteen turned to face the consequences while his thoughts debated his fate.

‘We don’t have to do this. We can just stay away until Britain repeals the Stamp Act.’

‘That won’t work. We have to face the consequences eventually, and the sooner we get back into Britain’s good graces, the better, no matter how painful it’ll be.’

‘I wish he listened first and hit us second.’

Thirteen rapped on the door of his father’s office, feeling strangely apathetic as he did so. His father opened the door, and upon seeing Thirteen, an immense rage, which Thirteen had only seen a few times before, overcame his face.

Britain slapped Thirteen against the wall and began hitting him. Thirteen made no attempt to fight back, sinking deeper into apathy as the hits continued to land. 

He just had to wait until his father’s initial anger subsided. Then, he would be more willing to listen.

He had to be more willing to listen.

Thirteen didn’t know what he would do otherwise.