#the 250th is coming up

[marzipanandminutiae]

oh god there's a Fox News docudrama about the Boston Tea Party out now

I just watched a clip wherein a small bunch of Rough Rugged Patriots with modern American accents (an interesting choice in contrast to the probably more accurate and more common route of giving the English and the colonists similar accents), in shirtsleeves (it was December and also the Little Ice Age and also BOSTON), somberly sneak aboard the ships (there were about 100 men involved and some participant accounts say they were joking with each other while they worked) and threaten violence upon a captain (none of the captains made any move to stop the tea's destruction, that I'm aware of, only expressing concern for the other cargo placed around it. which was later offloaded and sold in Boston without incident) and find the crates of tea "on the deck marked as Madeira wine" (it was not disguised as anything and also, again, it was in the holds surrounded by other cargo)

meanwhile, Samuel Adams "distracts" the...military, I guess, is the implication? at a small meeting in a tiny room (it was an absolutely massive meeting at the Old South Meeting House, then the second-largest indoor space in Boston, and he may have actively tried to stop the group of future tea-dumpers from leaving when they did because the meeting wasn't yet over. plus his role in planning the protest at all is disputed)

also Admiral Montagu of the British navy watched the whole thing happened and didn't stop it. plus a massive crowd of Bostonians on the wharf. so it would be pretty ineffectual "distraction" if good ol' Sam HAD been doing that. which, again, he was not

but I guess that doesn't make as good a story for the M4GA crowd (censoring to avoid the tag)

[thebaffledcaptain]

Awarded my bronze medal for my first year with the regiment at our annual dinner today :) Proud to be a Cheshire tonight!

[yellobb]

I’ve lived near a major U.S. historical site my entire life. I’ve driven through it hundreds if not thousands of times. I was also today years old when I found out that the roads look the way they do because it’s supposed to mimic the look of a dirt road

[mother-above]

All the Time in the World

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.

Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)

*masterlist*

Everything happens for a reason.

Those are five words that people say to cope with and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, the way your hair blew in the wind, how your arms were lifted so you could feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams, so vibrant and full of life. Tugging their hands to make them hurry up and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.

The words “everything happens for a reason” would be whispered before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was that missing piece, a void that could never be filled.

You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, that the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life and you just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down and the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain.

Fae with your powers could never live underground forever, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but Keir acted too late, your power had grown and could no longer be contained.

When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. By the time they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time in your life. Around you were granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, there was a gaping hole that came straight from the depths of the mountain. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.

Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you looked at the male with violet eyes. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”

Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.

That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and were able to manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine.

Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and a volcano erupted in Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right about you. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream on that pitch before.

One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.

You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.

Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped your sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face.

“Azriel! Come here!”

He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water making his black shirt stick onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there dumbstruck.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel.

Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse dripping wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Sometimes one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.

The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating, no one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every single one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either.

One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.

“Have you guys fucked yet?”

You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”

“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”

You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”

Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”

Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.

“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor.

“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”

Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”

One week later, you finally had the courage to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the storm clouds in the distance. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s full attention was on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss.

You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream.

“Oh gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.

Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.”

Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”

Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”

Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to you pulled him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.

A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”

You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.

“Ahem.”

You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”

Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”

“Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”

Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future, what we want, what our boundaries are.”

Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.

He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. “Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready.

How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city.

Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger.

Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.

Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were down.

Please don’t do that. It’s too dangerous. There must be another way!

Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.

That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.

Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you were above the worm, you let out a strangled scream as you let out every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the Middengard caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel.

Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in.

***

They never recovered your body. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, upon Azriel’s request, he made sure it was placed near the Sidra.

The inner circle was destroyed by your death. Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse.

Everything had turned upside down, it rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Beron never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of autumnal flowers and red and orange leaves. You had once complimented the russet dahlias that lined his estate and he never forgot about it.

Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when they could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.

Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was duller, the stars didn’t shine as brightly, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be.

Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had passed but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.

The inner circle had gone through so much since you passed, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.

 ‘Rhys was stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel was being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. Cassian suspected he was mates with Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’

Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand and admired all the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.

“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”

The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron.

“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.

Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’sin there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”

Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there?

Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”

Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off of her face.

Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Call me pathetic but I made myself tear up writing this lmaooo. Should I do a part 2? Please let me know what you think in the comments!

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of Army of Ghosts/Doomsday (Part 20)  

Excerpt from SFX (Sept 2014 when “The Doctor and Rose say farewell at Bad Wolf Bay in Doomsday” won 1st place in their 250 Greatest Moments in Sci-Fi, Horror, and Fantasy poll to celebrate their 250th issue):

SFX:  Revisionists would have you believe that Who was always a show with emotional impact, but barring a couple of companion departures that didn’t really become true until Russell T Davies.  His most heart-destroying contribution was this scene, in which a holographic projection of the Doctor talks to a tearful Rose on a Norwegian beach (actually Southerndown, South Wales), with the signal cutting out just before the slow-coach can declare, “I love you”.  It’s a moment everyone can identify with because, as Davies put it, “There’s an echo of every loss you’ve ever had.” We’ve all had to bid farewell to someone we care about even if it wasn’t forced upon us by the threat of universal destruction and this moment perfectly encapulates the agony of break-up.

Russell T Davies:  Thank you!  I’m not often speechless, but that’s quite astonishing. All I can remember about that day is everyone rushing like mad to get it finished because the tide was coming in.  Camille Coduri had to stand on wooden planks in case she sank.  But what a cast - David and Billie are simply magnificent.  All directed with joy, energy, and madness by Graeme Harper. I’m genuinely surprised that it means that much to people, after all this time, and thank you to everyone who voted.

David Tennant:  I remember worrying on the day we shot this that as I was actually a projection from inside the TARDIS my hair shouldn’t be blowing in the wind.  That seemed terribly important at the time and although we didn’t find a solution to it, it bothered me for weeks.  Then I saw the finished scene and of course all that matters is the end of the Doctor and Rose’s story.  Russell had weaved some glorious magic for two seasons and it all came together so perfectly in this scene that people still talk to me about it with misty eyes all these years later (and I suspect they always will.)  Murray Gold created some heart-stopping music that accentuates the misery and Billie is just breathtakingly good.  I feel very lucky to be standing on that beach, with my hair flying around, in amongst all these brilliant elements.  Whatever else I do and wherever else I end up, this will be a moment I will forever be proud to look back on.  Thanks for having us at number one.

Link to [ part one ] of the Army of Ghosts/Doomsday Behind-the-scenes posts or click the #whoBtsDoom tag, or the full episode list [ here ]

[inchidentally]

https://www.tumblr.com/otterpiastri/737413690717011968/lando-and-oscar-celebrating-the-250th-race-of

Oscar is just insane.

The speed.

The hood.

The gaze.

What in the world?

BABE. BABUH.

Lando literally just looked at him and Oscar came over so fast he needed to use the handbrake (hand as a brake) ??? it's giving Under the Sunset Spiderman Landoscar by @charlclerc where all Lando has to do is want Spiderman to show up and for some reason !! Oscar comes zooming in with unusual speed ??

pushing the hoodie off and looking all rumpled and sweet and willing to cancel naptime if it means Lando needs him for something

the fact that Lando didn't look over before introducing Oscar so like was Oscar just standing off to the side wit his hood up watching Lando like a little creep? beloved

"this man right here" to pile into my theory about Lando using honorifics when referring to Oscar

and holy fuck Lando looking so good and having that air of confidence he gets sometimes literally no wonder he can just say Oscar's name and Oscar is falling over himself like a dog for a treat

[idesofrevolution]

Requiescat

"Alright, my Musical Mentees, welcome back to my Channel! I am your friendly neighborhood musical critic, Kyle Donaghue, and today we're going to be reviewing something a little bit out of our typical wheelhouse!" Kyle sat with feigned excitement in front of his webcam. Though on the outside he eagerly drew out his intro for the 250th episode of his "Musique Critique" web series, internally he was livid. The young YouTuber had dreamed of becoming the go-to modern music critic on the platform but after almost two years of barely breaking a thousand views, he recognized he needed to do some market research on what his 347 subscribers wanted to see.

Thus, after asking his audience for requests, the music of some newer wannabe rockstar gained traction to be reviewed. To the music conservatory graduate, such low-brow "music" was beneath him; yet reality dictated that the business of content creation was based upon supply and demand. His audience demanded it, and if he wanted to gain any traction whatsoever, he needed to pivot. So, when the band in question, Catalyst, announced a new single drop, Kyle decided he was going to be the very first reviewer to tear it a new one.

"So you guys have been requesting I listen to this band called 'Catalyst' for a long time now, and today is finally the day. Apparently, the lead singer of Catalyst announced a few days ago that a new single was going to be released. I haven't heard much about them, so I did a bit of digging." Kyle clicked around on his computer, dredging up whatever he found in his five minutes of "research" the night before. "So, this band literally came out of nowhere. They're independent and are in talks with some record company about a deal, but nothing has come of it yet, so I'm going into this completely blind. They're out of Austin, Texas, and it's four guys who started the band out of this lead singer's parent's garage. The guy's name is Jaxon Black."

Kyle was literally reading off of some Tumblr fan blog about all this, but his audience certainly didn't need to know that. Why would he put in any effort for a band of this low caliber? "Black is 27 years old and started the band in 2013 when the four of them were in high school. They haven't really found any success, which is one of the reasons I'm surprised you wanted me to review them in the first place. They play in dive bars and some small venues, but nothing really outside of that." Scrolling through the blog, a picture of Jaxon Black actually appeared on the feed. He looked like any run-of-the-mill traditionally hot bad boy that you could find on the cover of GQ. What was so special about him?

"So, it's interesting too. This guy looks completely different than he did back when the band was formed. I totally get he was a kid when he started it, and there's puberty and whatever. But I mean, can you say plastic surgery? C'mon, guys. This guy is a 'serious musician' to you all?" Kyle sighed and wiped his face clear of the disgust he felt inside, putting on the eager façade he felt he needed to emulate. "But for you guys, I will make an exception, I'll give Jaxon Black and Catalyst a chance. I'm doing this for you! Just know that!" With that, he began to screen share, and the handsome visage of Jaxon Black was plastered on his screen as it would be for the whole review. The single didn't have any album art or anything, it was just a Soundcloud link; so in hopes that his audience would see right through this charade, he let would make them look at the face of the man who wrote whatever terrible song he was preparing to hear.

"See what I mean, guys? Ugh. I'm sorry, anyways. Here it is. The link that's posted on this fan blog brings me to Soundcloud, and there's no title or anything. It's just called 'Untitled', so we're off to a great start. But like I said, let's give the guy a chance. So without further ado, here is Catalyst's 'Untitled.'" With the press of the space bar, the sound of a slower ballad began to play through his earbuds.

The song began with a slow and heavy bassline in A flat Locrian, immediately an odd choice to start with. Contrarian, in Kyle's opinion. In terms of influence, it was an odd mixture of stereotypical hard rock like Guns n' Roses or Aerosmith, prog rock like Yes and Pink Floyd, with a random hint of Santana? Kyle did his best to stifle the cringe which trickled down his spine, but his face could do nothing to hide it. He felt the corners of his lip tense up and purse, his left nostril tweaking in pure annoyance.

"Starting off in Locrian... that's an interesting choice." He muttered under his breath. Looking at the progress bar, he saw the song was a full seven minutes and thirty-six seconds long. Lovely. "I feel like this is gonna be 'Hotel California' but bad, not gonna lie to you guys." Though, as the electric guitar faded in, quiet and subtle, it took Kyle by surprise. The technique that Black employed in his riffs, with precision he'd rarely heard outside of a classical guitarist, was nothing short of impressive. "Okay, the guy's got some skill. I'll give him that."

The music felt lugubrious, giving the sensation of swimming through a vat of molasses, pushing and pulling at great tension. It was near impossible for him to put into words, but the gravelly tenor timbre of Black's voice deftly began to soar atop the dredging music below. Evoking Eddie Vetter or perhaps even Jon Bon Jovi, the words were not exactly easy to decipher. Frankly, the song was almost trancelike, as if he'd taken a handful of mushrooms before embarking on his musical journey.

"Guys, I don't know how to explain it, this shouldn't work but it... it kind of does? I don't... I don't know." Kyle leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The song had actually piqued his interest and intrigue, it was unlike anything he'd ever really heard before. Yet, it felt so familiar in ways far outside his comprehension. Waves of goosebumps washed across his body, barrage after barrage. The music became a full-body experience, and he was rendered speechless for the first time in his life. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Kyle tried his best to analyze the theory engrained into the song but found his mind to be a mere void that was seemingly being filled with viscous liquid. The longer the song went on, the more his mind felt entirely numb.

"I'm... I'm impressed, guys..." Words began to falter, his tongue feeling swollen and heavy. Behind his closed eyes, ribbons of bright colors danced against the black backdrop, bursts of red and purple illuminating the periphery like clouds of heat lightning. He could feel the notes meandering through the air and landing on his body, pressing down with the force of a boulder each time. "He's... he's really good, guys..." A thick dribble of saliva oozed through the gap in his open lips.

It was as if he was being drained of all his energy, all of his willpower, every last ounce of strength which propelled him to live. And yet, despite the darkness he could feel creeping over his body, he was oddly at peace. As if moving of their own accord, Kyle felt himself shuck his shirt from his body, now covered in a sprinkling of sweat across his limber torso and head. The music pulsated from within him as if he were the amp himself, seemingly making the muscles in his arms expand and contract. "I can... I can feel him in there..." Kyle couldn't even fathom how he'd gotten here. He was in his room, sitting in his chair and yet, he was somehow with Black, inside the music. With every heavy pick of the bass, his biceps began to swell and firm; veins distinctly snaked down his strong forearms and into his callousing fingers. His body temperature was now sweltering, shedding every ounce of water and liquid within him into the beadlets of sweat which cascaded down from his thickening pecs and cobbling abs.

The drums and synthesizer came in, further enriching the already complicated chords which tickled his ear like a soft, warm breath. The bass line was an ebb and flow, weaving and bobbing as the song soared through the chorus, a melody that sent a ripple of lust across his body. It was as if he were on a ship in a storm, one which was luring him deeper into the dark waters as his thighs began to balloon out of the sweat-stained shorts he wore. The power of the music seeped into his veins, imbuing him with a foreign energy from a distant shore beyond his corporeal being. His calves spasmed and inflated, while his feet stretched out wider and stronger in his quickly ripening socks.

Black's voice was now all that Kyle could hear in his head, every indecipherable word rang as some existential truth. Kyle's thoughts were no longer his own, he was just along for the ride, a passenger in his own mind. He was no longer in control of his actions, nor his thoughts. His breathing had become heavier, slower... The music had invaded his very being and taken control. Spatterings of black ink began to sprawl across his glistening smooth skin, each with some sort of esoteric reference which he would not yet understand. Grim Reapers, skulls, geometric designs of unhuman origin now proudly displayed across his strong body.

"Fuuuck, man. This shit is amazing..." His voice gradually grew scratchy and smoky from years of singing for crowds of headbanging punks in cramped, smelly bars. He reached to his left, eyes still closed in euphoric bliss, snatching the small joint which now sat on the edge of his desk. Kicking his sweaty, buttery feet up onto the wooden surface, he brought the smoking j to his lips, dragging a heavy dose of creative vapor into his powerful lungs. "Fuckin' hell, you guys... I mean... shit." He blew out a heavy, grey plume of smoke from his wide nostrils. "This song is fuckin' incredible."

He pulled down his shorts and briefs, letting his lean but long dripping cock slap against his navel. Strings of pre seeped out of his pulsating cockhead, making winding rivers flowing down toward his sagging sac. A large prince albert ring now adorned the top of his uncut shaft, with three frenum piercings towing down his urethra in succession. The slightest touch from his calloused fingers wreaked immeasurable pleasure, radiating from the groin all across every inch of his body. Thus, as he wrapped his hand tightly around the limber shaft, gently caressing the prince albert with the tip of his index finger, he could barely breathe without a quiet moan escaping his throat. Quickly, the fondling turned into a measured, intentional pump with each beat of the music.

The drums and bass were now coming together in a thunderous crescendo, Kyle could feel his very blood bubbling beneath his skin as it made his way up his strong neck and toward his skull as he hastened his pace. The room around him began to blur and distort. Bookshelves formerly lined with music theory textbooks and repertoires of classical mainstays were warped into racks of well loved guitars: Fender, Gibson, Sqiuer, & Ibanez. The pristine white duvet-covered bed was now clad with sleek black satin sheets and a shiny vinyl comforter. The portraits of famous composers which once adorned the wall were now a collage of posters: Black Sabbath, Def Leppard, Motley Crue, Metallica, AC/DC, The Ramones, Aerosmith, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden. Piles of ripped up, weathered clothes, marinating in the sweat of shows past now littered the dingy red carpet.

The blood had finally arrived at the precipice of his brain, and like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks, it overtook him. His hair darkened to a deep black, his brows furrowed, his lips now plump and curled into a permanent cocky smirk. This was his kind of music. This was his genre. This was the message he was born to bring to the masses. It was a message of rebellion, of raging against the corporate machine of whitewashed mass-marketed culture. A flash of bright red and teal illuminated the room from behind Kyle's closed eyes as rope after rope of his spunk shot from his cock onto the laptop and camera. He roared in climax, louder than he'd intended, but nothing his neighbors were unfamiliar with in regards to the activities the apartment notoriously beheld.

The music had stopped, the final note hung in the air for a moment before retreating back into the abyss as his shorts melted into a dense magenta slime, moving down his muscular legs until they covered his entire lower half before hardening into slick gator skin pleather pants and a pair of beat up black combat boots wafting the scent of his musky feet. Axel opened his now black eyes, letting out a sigh of complete satisfaction.

"Now that's what I call fuckin' music, man! See why I wanted ya to experience it? It's like a requiem for corporate machine, man. That's why Catalyst is my fuckin' muse. Their music is gonna take over the whole fuckin' world." A loud pinging signaled Axel to check his phone, where his bandmates, performing as Hammerthrow, were confirming their next gig in L.A. "Fuck yeah, guys. Just landed the Cali gig. I'm thinking we cover this masterpiece and mind fuck them into oblivion. Catch us in Azuza next week, kids. You don't wanna miss it." With that, he ended his recording, smirking mischievously as he uploaded it to his channel. The song certainly was going to change the world, even if the world itself wasn't ready.

[mortiferumsomnum]

HELP! I ACCIDENTALLY GOT ENGAGED TO THE GHOST KING!

EDIT: Masterlist

***

Please excuse the stupid Manhwa title, but Jon is panicking right now. Like, really, really, REALLY panicking.

Damian is going to kill him.

Wait, no.

He’ll save him, AND THEN kill him.

NO.

He’ll save him, become the Ghost King HIMSELF, AND THEN KILL HIM.

Oh man, oh god, oh NO--

“Dude, are you done?”

The very Ghost King he got engaged to is sitting on some kind of bean-bag blob ghost with the most tired expression, like in that one meme. And Jon is the girl that’s crying with his fingers closed together while trying to explain his point.

The blob ghost under the Ghost King made a happy purr.

“Danny, my dude, please, you--- you need to understand. WE ARE ALL ABOUT TO DIE.”

The Ghost King, Danny, huffed in tired amusement. And he was about to say something, but Jon grabbed Danny by the shoulders and glared deep into his eyes. He doesn’t understand. Jon will make Danny understand. 

“Relax,” Danny said before Jon could say anything, phasing out of his hold to float in the air. He crossed his arms behind his head as he yawned. “I mean, what’s he gonna do? Bust in here with a sword and declare a battle for your hand?”

“Yes,” Jon replied without a beat. “He would. That’s exactly what he would do.”

How did Jon even get into this mess in the first place?

***

It had been a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and teens like Jon were happily chatting amongst themselves as they headed home from school. Jon in particular was waiting in the parking lot for Damian to pick him up. He was seated on the wheel-stop, in the place where Damian would usually park his car, looking through his phone while listening to some of his music.

A classmate of his walked up to Jon with a wide smile. He couldn’t remember her name, but he’s seen her in Homeroom and Geometry. He knows that she’s very studious and works well in groups. But Jon hasn’t really interacted with her much... or at all. So, it’s a wonder why she’s coming up to him.

“Hey, Kent!” she greeted, bringing out a piece of paper to show in front of him. A bunch of names and signatures were on it. A few, Jon could recognize from his own classmates.

“We’re signing a petition,” she said, excitedly. “It’s to help keep Coach Harold as our P.E. teacher.”

Jon raised his brow in surprise. “What’s-- uh-- What’s going on? Is he getting fired?” 

He’s such a good teacher! A good coach! He never pushes if it’s out of his classmates’ abilities, and he also makes sure that everyone is safe no matter how easy the activity. He’s patient, understanding, and a lot like Jon’s dad. Well, the man is a fan of Superman, so maybe that’s why? It doesn’t matter! 

His classmate, who he still couldn’t remember the name of, huffed in annoyance. “Apparently, he’s already fired.”

Jon shot up from where he was sitting, almost floating into the air, but catching himself before he could. “What do you mean he was already fired?! What was--- What was he even accused of?!”

“Harming a student.”

“What--”

“Yeah,” his classmate said, huffing. “I heard it from the injured student himself. It wasn’t Coach Harold. The school’s protecting another teacher. I don’t know how to get the other teacher to face consequences, so I asked our homeroom teacher what we could do to keep Coach Harold.”

“And it’s a petition?” Jon asked.

His classmate grinned, showing him the paper once more. “I have five more of these babies in my bag. If you sign, you’re gonna be the 250th signature, Kent!”

Jon reached a hand out, and his classmate let him take the paper. He read the written request at the top, and at the other names and signatures. Then, he brought out a ballpen he kept on himself at all times - a habit he gained from his parents. Without a beat, he signed his name.

“All done,” he said, giving the paper back. His classmate cheered, and looked at the paper in wonder, making Jon chuckle. “But uh...” shoot, he still doesn’t remember her name, “don’t you think this petition would hold more weight if our parents signed it?”

His classmate giggled. And... it wasn’t a nice giggle. This one caused the hair on his arms to raise, a chill to run down his back. She grinned at him, and Jon could see how her skin turned into a pale blue color, her hair turning into flames, and the paper in her hand growing longer and longer with Jon’s name and signature at the very bottom, along with one named Daniel Fenton.

“Jonathan Kent,” her voice wasn’t as cheery anymore. It was mocking. She floated in the air and made the paper disappear in her hands. “Thank you for your cooperation, Future Prince Consort. With this, my job with the Observants are done!”

She rose into the air.

Jon flew into the air to go after her.

And before Jon knew it, she grabbed his arm and made both of them invisible. The world around him passed in a blur until he saw a green, swirling portal. He tried to stop them, tried to pull away, but she only clutched harder, flew faster. He screamed as they entered the portal.

The next thing Jon knew, he was in front of some royal, who looked to be the same age as him. It didn’t matter if he was donned in a cape that seemed to be made of galaxies. It didn’t matter if he also looked as blue as all the other residents in the... palace? Was this a palace? Whatever!

What mattered was that when Jon searched for heartbeats, there was none. No one in this room was alive.

Then, with an echoing laugh, his classmate-turned-crazy-lady disappeared from the room.

“What’s going on?” the royal-looking teen asked.

And, yeah, that’s what Jon wants to know! But, the people around him only bowed in response. “Your Highness,” said the Giant... Yeti? Was that a Yeti?!?!? “We congratulate you on your engagement.”

“Excuse me?” the royal asked, as flabbergasted as Jon was. “I’m only sixteen.”

SO AM I! Jon wanted to scream. 

“Did you not sign a paper from the Matchmaker?” the Yeti asked.

The royal blinked. “Is... that what she was? Also, she said it was a petition.”

EXACTLY! 

Jon felt faint. But also, “What-- What do you mean by Matchmaker?” he asked. Everyone was looking at Jon now, but the royal nodded for him to continue. So, Jon did, his heart beating loudly in his ears. “Don’t they just-- just, y’know-- find matches and stuff? Isn’t the actual engagement planning done by-- by, I dunno, the families??”

The yeti gave Jon a rueful smile. “She doubles as the officiator, unfortunately,” he said. Turning his head towards the King, his face turns apologetic. “She’s been doing this for millennia, Your Highness. The rules for engagement prior marriage has not changed, even as Pariah Dark slept.”

Um, what? Pariah-who-now?

“The only way to cancel this engagement is to rip the contract that had been signed between you.”

Sounds easy enough-- NOT.

The King didn’t seem to be panicking. But, his face did look troubled.

He looked to Jon, then he looked to the people in the large hall. They were all still kneeling. The King raised a hand and, with a loud and booming voice, ordered for all to rise. 

“Frostbite, Fright Knight, stay,” he said. Then to the rest of the people, “All of you, leave. We shall cut our activity short.”

No one complained, all nodding and murmuring in understanding. Jon watched as the people disappeared one by one. There are little, green blobs cleaning up buffet tables by eating the remaining food, and larger blobs eating the tables and chairs. It was bizarre and cute.

After that, the King led Jon to his personal quarters, the Yeti and this Giant Knightly looking dude following after them. It was there that Jon learned that they were not just people, they were ghosts! And that he was in a realm called the Ghost Zone. And that he got engaged to THE Ghost King! 

Sugar honey iced tea, this isn’t good. 

“A ghost marriage,” Jon mumbled hauntingly to himself, holding his head in hands. He was seated on a... beanbag blob ghost that purred and tried swatting at Jon’s ankles with its blobby hand. Jon let it.

The King, who turned out to be the other name at the bottom, Daniel “call me Danny” Fenton, snorted. He was seated on his own blob-bag, sipping some kind of ghost slurpie with a tired look. He was changed into a comfortable looking hoodie and sweats, his socked feet also being swatted by blob hands. “Could be, but it’s not. You’re alive and I’m half-alive.”

This then led to Jon’s panic-fest, which actually lasted for only a few minutes.

****

“We have to find that-- that contract and rip it before Damian gets here,” Jon said. 

Danny nodded. “Agreed,” he said. “Fright Knight is doing his best to track down where the Matchmaker could be. And then, after that, I’m going to make sure to rewrite all these outdated laws one by one. First one I’ll rewrite is the legal age requirement for everything. BTW, my dude, is there a legal age requirement for engagements?”

“Uh... I think it only applies to marriage,” Jon replied, also thoughtful. Then, he sat back down in his blob-bag, which caused the blob to purr and swat at his ankles again. “How long do you think this will take?”

Danny shrugged. “Probably a few hours. Maybe days.”

“And... in the living realm? Or-- or at least, my realm?”

Danny shrugged unhelpfully once more. “Depends. What’s your Realm? The one with Spider-man?”

What. “...Who’s Spider-man?”

“Oh... so, is it the one with Percy Jackson??”

Jon only gave a confused look.

“How about Sonic the Hedgehog?”

“The game?”

Danny sat up with a grin. “Sorry. How about you tell me a famous hero from your Realm.”

“Wait-wait-waiiiiiittt, there are multiple realms? Like--- like, different worlds?!”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “An Infinite amount, actually.” He sipped from his never-ending slurpie cup. “Now, tell me a hero, not-future-consort!”

Jon huffed. Then, he grinned. “Does Superman ring a bell?”

To Jon’s disappointment, there is no ‘Whoa!!! Your Realm has Superman?!’ or ‘So cool! Does Batman also exist in your Realm?! What about the Justice League?!’ 

Instead, Danny nodded. “Good, good. Now, you said that Damian is your boyfriend, so you must be from one of the Minor Realms connected to the Main Realm that it was based off of. In other words - an alternate reality... basically.”

Jon was confused now. “What? Alternate reality? There are more versions of my realm? And, if not Damian, who-- who would be my partner in the Main Realm?”

Danny made a thoughtful look. “I believe it was... Jay Nakamura?”

Jon blinked. “Who’s that?”

Danny waved a hand. “You saved his college from a school shooter. It’s not important to your realm--”

“College?! I’m in high-school!! A Sophomore!!”

“I didn’t look much into his school - it’s probably just called a college and is actually just some K-12 and Higher Education kind of school - but I’m pretty sure he’s just 17--”

“HOW DID DAMIAN TAKE THIS?!”

Danny’s eyes glazed a bit. Then, “He... smiled? Oh, Ancients, that is one scary smile. But, he’s impressed? Jay Nakamura is part of some news site that reports everything the media’s too afraid to report about.”

Jon gaped. Then, he shook his head. “I’ll have you know that Damian smiles all the time! And it’s not scary!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You’re dating the Beast, dear Belle. You’re already immune. Now, tell me other important things about your realm so that searching through the minor realms would be easier.”

Jon frowned. “How many minor realms are there?”

Danny sighed. “Jon, my dude, imagine the main realm as a movie, or a really good book, or an extremely good comic. And then, the minor realms are the non-canon series or films, comics, or fan-works that surrounds that piece of media. And as you know, people go crazy when it comes to fanworks, am I right? So, can you imagine the thousands of minor realms that are based off of the main realm?”

Yeah. Jon can imagine it. Which causes him to pale. “Will I--- Will I be able to go back?” he asks. 

“Of course,” said Danny, not at all troubled. “It’ll just take me time because I haven’t practiced as much. But, I’ll be able to bring you back once we’re done with all this engagement madness.”

Then, Jon wondered, “Are there also multiple Ghost Zone Realms?”

Danny nodded. “I’m not the only King of the Infinite Realms. There are other versions of myself, as well. Once a Realm exists, there will be alternate realities born from it. Sometimes, even Minor Realms could turn into Main Realms if there are more minor realms born from it.”

“Huh...” Jon said. Then, “What’s the-- um-- Main Realm for this one like?”

Danny smiled. “Apparently, I’m just an ordinary boy with ghost powers, and that’s what a halfa is. But, if you look into its minor realms, most of my alternate selves, and I mean MOST of them, are referred as half-dead and half-alive. Other me’s are tortured, vivisected, and have horrible parents. Honestly, it’s really concerning--- Ah, I think I found it.”

Jon, who was making a very alarmed expression a while ago, now perked up from where he sat on his blob-bag. “What is it? Did you find my realm?”

“I hope so!” Danny said, waving a hand to create a hologram-like image in the air. “Bloodthirsty, yandere-like Damian looking around a school parking lot for clues on where you disappeared to?”

Jon looked closely to Damian. He was talking into his communicator, probably to Batman, while holding on to Jon’s backpack that was left in the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Jon said, a lump in his throat. “That--- That’s him.” 

He watched as Damian yelled into his communicator, obviously alarmed by what was going on. He watched as Superman landed beside Damian, a face full of worry that Jon would only see from his father and never from the Man of Steel. He watches as Kon lands next to Superman, demanding where Jon could be, why they couldn’t hear Jon’s heartbeat.

Jon reached out towards the magical-window-thingy that allowed him to see and hear what they were doing and going to do. But then his hand reached through it, the magic swirling around his fingers.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch was gentle, and he turned to see Danny giving him a soft smile. “I guess time is running the same time as this Realm,” said Danny, causing Jon to huff. Then, he said, more seriously then before, “I’ll get you out of this mess, I promise.”

Jon nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

Danny was about to say something, when, “If anything happens to Jon, I’m going to kill everyone in this world and then myself---”

“Now, Damian--”

“Don’t you ‘Now, Damian’ me, Clone! My beloved is missing, and if I find a single scratch on his body, or a single hair missing, I WILL. KILL. EVERYONE.”

Danny whistled. “Wow. Main-Damian wasn’t so bloodthirsty... Well, anymore. Interesting to know that there’s a Damian that actually enhanced his bloodlust.” 

Then, he made the magical window go away and pulled up two more. “Frostbite, Fright Knight. Please make more of an effort to find the Matchmaker. Danny’s concern about his lover finding the Ghost Realm may actually be possible, I’m afraid.”

“Understood, My King,” said Fright Knight. 

Frostbite hummed thoughtfully. “She’s hiding really well, Your Highness. We’ll be sure to quadruple our efforts.”

Danny nodded and waved the windows away.

Jon sighed, anxiety wracking up once more. Will things be okay?

[on-partiality]

Today's the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party so here's some information on the Sons of Liberty, the lead up to the Boston Tea Party and what happened after!

apologies for any inaccuracies, I wrote this pretty late

The conflict between the American colonies and New England started after the French and Indian war ended with the Treaty of Paris on the 10th of February, 1763. The French and Indian war started because of conflicting territory claims in North America between the British and the French. Originally it was fought between only the British Americans and the French colonists with Native Americans helping on either side (especially with the French because they were severely outnumbered). However two years into the war the United Kingdom - except for ireland - decided enough was enough and officially declared a war with France which started a large world-wide conflict over many territories. In the end, the war was won by the Colonial Americans and British, the French lost all of their North American territory and what used to be their territory was split somewhat evenly between the Spanish and the British but that was only sorted out after the British fought in a war against the Spanish called the Anglo-Spanish war (the first one). So a victory, that sounds good for America right? Wrong. Wars are expensive, maintaining an army is expensive and the British were dealing with many other wars in all different territories at around the same time so England had a national debt of nearly 177.645 MILLION modern day USD.

England had a HUGE poverty crisis. They had to come up with a way to get money and quickly so on April the 5th 1764 the British parliament amended their pre-existing Sugar and Molasses Act. A tax on the importation of wine, molasses, indigo and sugar from places that weren't part of Britain, mainly the non-British Caribbean. This act also banned all foreign rum. Then on March the 22nd, 1765 the British parliament passed the stamp act. A tax on playing cards, newspapers, legal documents. The main problem with this tax was that it couldn't be paid in the paper money used in the 13 colonies, it had to be paid off using the British Sterling which wasn't easy to obtain in America. That and paper was possibly the most important resource in the 18th century. Later in October 1765, a Stamp Act Congress was held in Philadelphia to discuss all of the problems with this act. Then on March the 24th the British passed the Quartering Act which stated that if British troops want to stay at your house you have to provide them with food and let them inside of your house. This was a clear invasion of two very basic rights of Englishmen, private property and personal security.

The Americans fought back against these acts like with Boston's non-importation agreement where merchants from Boston agreed not to buy or sell anything from/to Britain and the Golden Hill riot in New York and the Gaspée Affair which was when a group burned a British ship while the soldiers were off looking for smugglers in Rhode Island, the group was then accused of treason. The most notable of all of these protests though was the later Boston Tea Party.

The Boston Tea Party happened because of a group called the Sons of Liberty which was created in 1765 out of a strong hatred of the Stamp Act. They believed that it was ridiculous that the British could tax the Americans when the Americans didn't even have a representative in parliament, their phrase was 'no taxation without representation'. There's a lot of dispute over what kind of organisation the Sons of Liberty actually was. I might go into all of the theories in another post but for the moment if you want to come up with your own idea on it I suggest looking into them yourself, for this post I'm just going to call them a group or organisation because it's pretty ambiguous. Anyway, the Sons of Liberty usually met at liberty poles/liberty trees which are believed to have been marked as meeting places using the Sons of Liberty's flag. The group was founded in Boston in the Massachusetts Bay colony and it's leader was Samuel 'Sam' Adams.

The Sons of Liberty's first big really move was to burn an effigy of the local Stamp Act enforcer, Andrew Oliver and then burn his office and destroyed the house of his associate. The group's protests were more often then not violent but they got their points across. It didn't help when the Boston Massacre happened in 1770, which only further outraged the colonists, expect the Boston Massacre to get it's own in depth post one day because the court trial was super interesting. Then on the 10th of May, 1773 the British made another act called the Tea Act which made it so that the colonists had to pay more for tea that wasn't legally imported. The Tea Act was meant to help the British East India Tea Company because they were making most of Britains money and they'd gone into a huge debt which caused 20-30 English banks to collapse and started the British Credit Crisis of 1772-1773. The problem was that because the imported tea from Britain was really cheap people didn't buy from local businesses which caused farmers to go completely bankrupt. The Tea Act was the final straw for the Sons of Liberty and many Americans.

Britain sent a shipment of East India Company Tea to America and all of the American colonies that the tea was going to be sent to convinced the people on the ship to resign except for Massachusetts. So the Dartmouth, a ship full of tea arrived in Boston Harbour, Samuel Adams called for a meeting at Fanueuil Hall and thousands of people turned up so they had to move meeting places. During the meeting the Colonists discussed possible resolutions, they decided to have a medium group of men watching the tea to make sure it wouldn't be unloaded and pleaded for the ship to leave. The governor of Massachusetts refused to let the ship leave and two more ships arrived. On December the 16th, 1773, Samuel Adams met with the people of Massachusetts again to tell them about the governors refusal, the meeting caused total fury amongst all of the colonists.

In protest of the Tea Act and all of the other taxes the British had put on the Americans, the people ran out of the meeting room, some of them put on Native American costumes both in an attempt to conceal their identity because what they were about to do was illegal and as a symbolic choice to show that America's their country, not Britain. They then ran onto the 3 tea ships while Samuel Adams was telling everyone to calm down and stay for the end of the meeting. And spent 3 hours hurling all of the chests of tea into the water.

The British did not respond well, they believed that the Colonists needed to be punished so they passed the infamous Intolerable Acts which consisted of the Boston Port Act, meant to force Boston to pay for the tea by closing the port until the people of Boston paid for the tea which the Colonists argued was unfair because it was punishing the whole population for something only about half of them did, the Massachusetts Government Act which changed the way that the government of Massachusetts worked by giving people appointed by the British Parliament/King far more power, this made it easier for the British government to manage the Massachusetts Bay colony from England, the Administration of Justice Acts which state that any accused Royal officials can get a trial in England if they don't believe that they would be judged fairly in Massachusetts - which seems like a strange thing to add given how the Boston Massacre trial with John Adams went? - And I've already talked about the last intolerable act, the Quartering act which states that you have to let British troops stay in your house if they want to and you have to give them food.

[sequinsmile-x]

Start from Scratch

It had been years since they'd been back to the place they'd once called home, the place they once thought they'd raise their children, but it was time.

Aaron and Emily and their family go back to DC years after being forced to leave by Peter Lewis and his obsession.

My 250th Hotchniss Fic.

Coming Saturday 14th October.

-x-

Hi friends,

I cannot believe that I am writing my 250th fic for you all. The fact you are all still here reading and commenting and asking for more is mindblowing to me, and I am eternally grateful for our little corner of the internet.

The idea for this fic has been floating around in my mind for months, and when I asked @hancydrewfan what I should do for my 250th she suggested doing something with Mr Scratch, since I've never written it before. This fic will have two timelines - up to date when they return to DC, and the Scratch storyline itself in the lead up to them leaving.

I hope you're excited for this on Saturday, feel free to yell at me in the interim it gives me serotonin haha

Snippet below the cut <3

Emily smiles as she turns to face Aaron, shaking her head at their children as they all rush out of the room to play the video game, Jack leading the charge, but it fades when she sees the look on her husband's face, the sadness in his eyes. 

“Honey,” she says, stepping towards him, her hand on his arm in an immediate attempt to comfort him, “What’s wrong?” 

He sighs as he puts his hand over hers, linking their fingers together as he squeezes, “I heard from Dave,” he says, pressing his lips together in a tight line, “Krystall died this morning.” 

“Poor Dave,” She gasps, her heart clenching in her chest, aching for their friend who had done so much for them, who had saved them. Dave had been the one to protect them when everything started to fall apart, his friendship and his protectiveness over them and their children one of the reasons they were all still together now. She blows out a steady breath and locks eyes with her husband. “Do you think…” she drifts off, the mere thought of going back, of returning to the place where their family had been tormented by a now dead psychopath, enough to make her chest seize. 

“I’ve already booked the time off work,” he replies, as if he has read her mind. She nods and leans in to hug him, sighing as he hugs her back, “He’d do it for us.” 

“You’re right,” she says, closing her eyes as she hears the kids laugh from the next room, reminding herself that Peter Lewis hadn’t won, that she still had everything she’d left her life, the people she’d once considered her found family, behind to protect, “We should go.” 

[stasiaorleanka]

Love how Reincarnation au Alex has the same name as his mom, kinda bittersweet yk? Also, Rachel would definitely love Nirvana and Mitski (and Eleanor would like girl in red)

Yess yess the girls! yes the names and the music!

So the names came to my mind when I first drew them, and I thought how well them goes with them!!

I imagined Rachel as a girl who was born in the USA and she was growing up in Italy . She likes ancient history, and Nirvana for her is a good option, because it was formed in 1987, and I also thought about Abba! The time when girls are teenangers is the 2000's. (And the beginning year is like 2004, bc then is the 200th anniversary of Hamilton's death and the 250th anniversary of Laurens birthday so it is the right year!)

And about Eleanor's personality I just thought about her when I was listening to “Killer Queen” , a Queen's song! Omg she would like the girl in the red as you say, but this didn't exist in those times! , and she likes the Queen very much! Her mother wants her to be a lawyer, but Eleanor wants to be a singer or fashion designer. She is very beautiful and intelligent! I started writing her first chapter and there are a few words from it!!

"The fresh air fills her lungs and the smell makes her feel more like smoking than breathing, so she takes the cigarette and her hands hold the banister of the balcony. Brooklyn hasn't gone to sleep, because all New York is a city that never sleeps. From her window is a view on the street, when some people are coming back from the places when they sang the songs dear to their hearts. Elenour wishes to be with them, she wishes to sing, to draw and to create, and to laugh with friends, but instead of this she got the law, and all her studies to make her mother proud."

(It's just a draft version but i hope you like it!)

[yamamuragaku]

Happy New Year Auditions

3 auditions will be held featuring the new set, UR [Happy New Year 2024] of each group, which comes with brooches. The auditions will also have reruns of past limited sets and will have only SR or rarer cards. See the in-app gacha rates list for more details about the included sets.

Audition 1 & 2 share the same Pickup Guaranteed counter which guarantees an SSR+ at the 100th pull and 1 UR [Happy New Year 2024] at the 250th pull. Audition 3 has a separate counter at the 50th and 110th pull. All 3 auditions share a Pickup Medal campaign.

1. 2024 Rerun Limited Rare Audition

Available from 1/1 (Mon) 0:00 - 1/13 (Sat) 23:59, there’s a half-off discount on your first 1-pull and 11-pull. Each 11-pull guarantees 10 SR+ & 1 SSR+. There’s also a daily half-off paid 11-pull available.

2. With Daily Rotating Item! 2024 New Years Paid Rerun Audition

There’s a daily paid 11-pull from 1/1 (Mon) 0:00 - 1/7 (Sun) 23:59, resetting at 0:00, which comes with the following items:

Day 1: Idol Key x10

Day 2: Idol Hearts x20

Day 3: Idol Soul x30

Day 4: Shout Heart x50, Beat Heart x50, Melody Heart x50

Day 5: SSR Skill Pudding x1

Day 6: Idol Key x10

Day 7: Idol Hearts x20

3. 2024 Lucky Bag Rerun Audition

Up to 10 paid 11-pulls can be done in this audition from 1/1 (Mon) 0:00 - 1/7 (Sun) 23:59. It includes some Ichiban Kuji and sets from monthly ranking events. See the gacha rates list for more details.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

It's the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party!

Let's do some nonsense.

According to the Boston Tea Party Museum, colonists dumped the following teas into the harbor.

The black teas were:

Bohea - 240 chests

Congou - 10 chests

Souchong - 60 chests

And the green teas:

Singlo - 60 chests

Hyson - 15 chests

Yes, green tea was a thing! It accounted for about 22% of the shipments volume and 30% of it's value. (I did not know this until I was gifted a set of teas from the Boston Tea Party last year.)

Ben is our Congou*. This denotes a tea made with "highest mastery or skill." It's toasty, smooth, sweet, and has "the flavor of unsweetened baked apples." That sounds pretty All-American to me (as much as Chinese tea can be, I guess.) The high mastery needed to produce this tea without breaking the leaves reflects Ben's lifelong quest to master the various skills he would need on the treasure hunt--American history, engineering, salvage diving, and so on.

Hyson, a green tea was, on of the most popular green teas of the 18th, and a favorite of both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. Obviously the honor of this tea will go to Abigail. It is picked in the spring "before the rains" as its Chinese name denotes, resulting in a pungent, full-bodied brew that is golden "with an edge of sweet character". To me this represents Abigail's refusal to be a passive witness to the events of the film, instead inserting herself into the treasure hunt, taking no bullshit from Ben or anyone else, but ultimately revealing her own sweet edge when she gets fully invested in the hunt.

Riley will be our Souchong. The 18th century variety was more mild than today's pinewood smoked Lapsong Souchongs, but still possessed a smoky aroma from the drying process. The smokiness is "meant to compliment the natural taste of black tea," just as Riley is meant to compliment the history nerds in his role as comic relief. Whether he overpowers them is up to you. The smoke can also represent the air of mystery around Riley, given that we know the least about him of the three leads. Souchong "lacks the bitterness that can come with other black teas" as so does not need to be sweetened. Despite his practical pessimism, Riley also lacks bitterness, will help Ben in any way he needs, and sweetens the group with his hilarious presence.

For Patrick, we'll go with Singlo. This green tea was "picked later in the season" than Hyson, and "tended to spoil sooner." The older leaves can represent how Patrick is a generation older than our main trio. And spoiling sooner represents how Patrick soured on the legend of the treasure sooner than Ben, John, or any of the other Gates men (that we know about.)

*Except for @emmi-kat. For you, Ben can be Bohea, a ubiquitous tea in the colonies that was "faint, frequently smokey, but always unpleasant." : )

[heartlandians]

“Love, family and the world of ranching”: Heartland’s core values hold strong

Entering its 17th season, Heartland is now the longest-running TV drama in Canadian history

Heartland celebrated its 250th episode, bringing global audiences together. 

“I love that we can share what we do across the world,” said Michelle Morgan, who plays Lou on the show.

Heartland, known for its family-friendly content, premiered its 17th season opener at the Calgary International Film Festival (CIFF) on Sept. 28, 2023, making it the longest-running one-hour Canadian drama. 

Arely Zavala, alongside her mother, Santa Olmedo, said that they’ve been fans since they started watching the series in its first season when they lived back home in Mexico. After moving to Calgary in 2008, their love for Heartland only continued to grow. 

“When we moved here, we watched every time [a new] season comes out,” said Zavala. 

Zavala and Olmedo have attended similar Heartland events since moving to Calgary, but their most memorable Heartland experience was when Olmedo ran into Morgan at Costco. 

Olmedo said that she was surprised to learn that Morgan came from a Latin background and has had many warm exchanges with the actress since. 

“When we attended other events, [Michelle] expressed herself like my family,” said Zavala. 

On the red carpet, Morgan recognized the family immediately and spoke greetings to them in Spanish. 

“My family is Latin American and I love that the show is embraced in Latin America,” said Morgan. “It’s huge for my parents, it means so much to them that their family can enjoy it.” 

Capturing the true essence of Albertan ranch life and family commitment, Heartland has always stayed true to three core values.

Shaun Johnston plays Jack Bartlett, the grandfather of Amy and Lou on the show. Jack is often referred to as an iconic character but Johnston said that the true icon is the show itself. 

“The message that we send is universal. It transcends all these different cultures [and] all these different languages,” said Johnston. “The fact that it’s as popular in those places as it is here is a monumental undertaking… I think it is a testament to how good we make the show.” 

What has kept the show running for 17 years?

“The people on the show are like my family, the cast and crew are like my family,” said Morgan. 

Not only does Heartland convey a family-orientated message on screen, but it can also be seen in the personal relationships of cast members off-screen. Johnston said that his favourite memory from 17 years of filming has been watching the cast grow up. 

“I got to watch these people go from youngsters into young adults and beautiful people,” said Johnston. 

“I protected them from the business while we were working together and now they protect me because I’m old and I need protection,” said Johnston laughing. 

Morgan also explained that the show has given her to opportunity to grow in the film industry as she has taken on roles behind the camera, directing for the past four seasons. 

What to look forward to in season 17

Both Morgan and Johnston said that fans can expect to see some beloved character return to the screen but most of all, “You get all the good things about Heartland… all the characters in their glory,” said Johnston. 

Those who didn’t attend the CIFF World Premiere will be able to watch the first episode of season 17 on CBC Gem and CBC TV on Oct. 1, 2023 at 7 p.m. 

Source

[ask-nyc-boroughs]

250th Anniversary of the Boston Tea Party!

Drew this chibi?/ simple style doodle of Alfred/ USA, Henry/ Massachusetts, & Ann/ Boston about a month ago. I like to imagine all three of them got together for some beers, probs Sam Adams, (& got horribly drunk, possibly arrested after getting into a massive bar fight) as they reminisced the Boston Tea Party. These three when together tend to rile each other up, and get into trouble like the Boston Tea Party 💀

In this lore, Alfred is raised by Henry (his older cousin), and his natural speaking voice is like an Eastern New England. Alfred has trained himself to have a more general northern US accent, but when he’s around Henry and Ann, his accent comes out (cause their accents are so prominent).

Ann probably wouldn’t have been allowed to participate due to her gender, but tbh if she’s passionate about something, you can’t stop her so she just dressed up like a man for this. Also another tidbit: some members of the Sons of Liberty did “dress up” as Mohawk warriors (an Indigenous nation in what is now NY state) to show their allegiance was more towards the Americas than to England. I did not want to draw them dressed like this as it was 1) only some of the participants 2) i just do not feel comfortable drawing that & that is within my right to not draw that, but I think these 3 would’ve stuck a feather in their hat / hair to show their shifting allegiances (to be clear- I DO NOT personally endorse this “symbolic choice”, but this is what occurred and this event occurred in the 1700s).

[bantarleton]

Now that IS a question @history-and-stuff-and-things ! Hopefully with the 250th anniversary events coming up His Britannic Majesty’s 33rd Regiment of Foot will make it stateside, which would yield a good opportunity of joining up with the Landgraf’s Subsidiertruppen, of which the good doctor is a member.