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everythingseasoning · 20 days ago

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love, forever?

vampire! Suguru Geto x reader x vampire! Satoru Gojo

Tags: Morality, and selfishness vs selflessness themes. // Vampire! Suguru and Satoru, who are vampire hunters that protect humans from evil ones. // Blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. // AU characters. Satoru is clingier and more emotional than his canon self. Suguru despises the strong (vampires) for hurting the weak (humans). // New vampire lore ;). // Angst. Suguru battling his inner demons, trying to do good despite his vampire nature and urges. // Reader has multiple targets on her back (Naoya appearance!) // Both Suguru and Satoru fall for reader. // Eventual smut in later chapters. //

Chapter Warnings: College party drinking, Reader slaps Satoru, Mentions of blood and feeding, Reader falls in a ditch (LOL), Suggestiveness, MDNI

Chapter Word Count: ~4.3k (it’s worth it!)

NOTE: even if you you saw the teaser already, or any edit of the teaser, please read this chapter, as I’ve edited it a lot, and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;)

Ch. 01 | Living Haunted

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. You could see that she might be his type. Green jealousy explodes in your chest, along with a poisonous, deep sense of insecurity. The horrible feelings move through your body. Was he moving on already? Did you really mean so little to him? Would she be the one to make him stay?

You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the painful twisting motion of your heart would be soon dulled. Coca Cola, sherbet, and yakult alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes.

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?”

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat when you see such a beautiful stranger.

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, chuckling as you braid his hair, the nonfiction book he’s been reading facedown in his lap as your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; The warmth and sturdiness of his hands against your face as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right.

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fleeting dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace, your face buried in his sturdy chest— that feeling of being cared for—

You missed him bad, with every fiber of your being.

Suguru is still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and you still came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following?

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply.

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party.

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming.

“And you are?”

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go here, don’t you know?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?”

Satoru just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky person. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

Satoru waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?”

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not ever met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him.

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” he says.

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your focus isn’t on that.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with.

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. You’re hurt. You’re aching in confusion about what wasn’t good enough about you. You’re angry and betrayed— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear, “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat of the stuffy, overcrowded room.

“Hm.”

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking—

And he’s gone.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle.

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue. He’s spitting it out back into the bottle immediately.

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of lovely bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam.

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs.

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, then?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru notices, but says nothing, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper.

“And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love—d her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d have missed it.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru.

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They do. But there’s something the myths forgot. Some sort of change is written in a vampire’s eyes. There always has been, and always will be, some sort of difference from a person’s antecedent human form, and their new, evolved one, hidden in their eyes after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy.

That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. He woke up with them, the day after everything changed.

Suguru’s tired reflection stares back at him, rich amethyst irises shining like glossy, sharp stars in the mirror. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness.

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave. He grimaces at the knowing that his vampire instincts made him crave you dangerously, the one he loves, more than anything else. It was cursed, his very existence. He was turned into a walking, sentient, functioning monster. The blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly.

“So,” Satoru grunts with chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires. It’s something Suguru was grateful for, considering his job of being a vampire slayer.

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand.

But Satoru presses on anyway, nodding, looking bored.

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all, on that unwelcomed, fateful night. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget— You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.”

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. If you and I didn’t always ask for consent before feeding, I’d never have believed she would be okay with that,” Satoru’s eyes gleam playfully. Suguru doesn’t reply, and Satoru deflates.

“You’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.”

Ah. The truth comes out. Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Satoru, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out. He curses silently in disgust at what he has become.

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching.

“Well. I need to feed again.”

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door. Did he need the black coat? No. Not at all. Vampires don’t get cold. They’re already icy to the touch. But it helps him blend in, both with humans and the night.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot.

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

He slips through the shadows.

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you.

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

If Satoru was being honest, this was a chance to understand the enemy. The golden goal would be to get Suguru to forget about you and move on, so his best friend could finally look and be alive again, the two of them happily slaying the vampires that hurt humans— and this was the first step in his plan.

“Hey,” he nearly purrs, slinking around you as you take a step forward— stumbling a bit—

Cold fingers grip you firmly, holding you upright. Satoru: 1, gravity: 0.

“You’re fucking making me freeze even more!” You retort, snapping at him as you yank your warm arm away from his cool grasp. You were more than tipsy, but you recalled his rudeness from earlier.

He lets you go and you teeter. “Just trying to help. You sure aren’t shy, huh?” Satoru remarks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spit out, the question giving you both Deja vu.

“It means what it means,” Satoru grins. Deja-fucking-vu. You’re getting fed up now, huffing and mumbling under your alcohol-tinged breath, an insult that Satoru’s super hearing picks up on. He stifles a laugh. You keep walking.

“Wait,” Satoru calls out. You don’t turn around or slow your snail-like pace. He strides up to you in two quick, lengthy steps. He bends, entering your vision, his teeth sharp and protruding from his close lipped smile. Were they always that long?

“I’m great at reading people. And as much as you want to deny it, your heart is beating faster around me.” He suppresses his urge to poke your ribcage, directly over the beating muscle.

“Shut up,” you growl.

“You could make me, you know.”

“There you go again with that cliche flirting,” you snort.

“And here I am again, asking if you’re offering lessons. Though the better question would be if you’re even qualified to give them,” Satoru grins.

He keeps up with your sluggish pace as you try to make your way back to the dorms.

“What do you want from me? Don’t you think it’s weird to be flirting with your best friend’s ex?”

You think this will shut him up. That, or he’ll have a lame excuse. But for the first time in this second conversation you’re having with him, his answer changes.

“If I’m being honest,” he speaks in a rich, velvety, low voice, and you almost feel entranced, your feet stopping, your gaze resting on Satoru. “I’m doing this for him. And about what I want?”

You sway in the chilly night breeze, barely registering anything but the sound of his voice.

“I want to know you better,” he purrs. You’re breathless as he continues, his voice like a siren in your ear, “If you were sober, would you let me bite you?”

He pulls away, and you’re back to your senses in a second. You feel like slapping him again. You almost do, but your hand misses, causing you to stumble.

“Too slow!” He cackles as you tumble onto the ground, your dress flying up.

You look absolutely humiliated, livid, and harmless from the ground, eyes narrowed in deep hatred for this weirdo.

“Need a hand?” Satoru smirks, his tall, silhouetted form outlined in light from the lamp behind him.

You push off the cold cement, ignoring him, fuming silently as you continue your drunken walk to the dorms. That typical pang of hunger hits Satoru out of the blue, impelling him to leave.

“I have to go now. See you around,” Satoru says, before disappearing, the need to find a sober person he can get consent from to feed on overpowering him.

Suddenly the night is quiet again, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. You keep walking, not realizing that there are no longer lamps to light the way until you’re surrounded by darkness. You aren’t familiar with this part of campus, squinting to see the road sign to your right. You barely make out the words ‘Under Construction’ written in bold black letters, and you shiver as the cool breeze swings through the area. A snapping twig sounds behind you and your eyes widen, fear running through your intoxicated bloodstream.

“Hello?” You call out. You hate to admit it, but you regret letting Satoru leave. Nobody answers.

You take another step into the darkness, speeding up your pace. Another snap of a twig, and you’re breaking out into a full blown run now— blood rushes through your ears—

Something catches your foot, and you tumble forward, falling down into a ditch, knocking out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru sighs contentedly, his eyes crossing as he swallows his last gulp of blood for the night. The woman is staring at the ceiling with a lovestruck look, the pleasure from the toxin in his fangs acting like a drug. He releases his lips from her skin, licking at the two puncture marks on her neck.

“Fuck…” She mewls, leaning in to kiss Satoru. He lets her kiss him.

“Look at me,” Satoru commands gently, his voice taking on a different tone now— and she’s under his spell in an instant.

“Forget this entire interaction. Forget that you ever saw me. Forget that I fed on you. Don’t question the slight tenderness in your neck tomorrow morning. Associate it with sleeping weirdly,” he murmurs, and she’s caught on his every word, nodding when he stops talking.

“Good.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru retraces his steps, walking on the road he last saw you on. His teeth have retracted, going back to a normal length, as they always do after he’s fed. Yeah, he may be selfish, jealous, and dislike you— but he’s not a villain. It’s late, you are intoxicated, and he still wants to make sure you’re okay.

“She’s probably fast asleep back at her dorm. I’m just wasting my time,” he grumbles in the dark. But he just has this funny feeling, like something happened, and now he’s acting like some lovesick fool that worries and checks in on their lover.

Blood. Satoru smells it, that familiar, rich, sharp scent that sends a rush of electricity through his body. Because he just fed, his brain doesn’t light up as it usually would, and he realizes that somebody is hurt— and that somebody is probably you.

Satoru’s legs are a blur as he races towards the source—

He stands over a dirt edge, a hole in the path made by the ongoing construction. You lay in the ditch looking like a broken doll, effectively knocked out. There’s a gash on your arm and knee.

“Fuck,” Satoru curses, quickly climbing down to get to you. He’s by your side in a flash, checking your pulse. It’s normal. He feels the tension in his body drain. You’re probably just passed out from the combination of alcohol and falling in a ditch. Satoru rolls his eyes, huffing, “Idiot,” as he scoops you up into his arms.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

He didn’t know what to do. Leave you in the hallway of the coed dorm? Drop you off at the 24/hour care station? He figured he should do the latter, and so he went.

He dings the bell at the front desk, shifting to readjust your relaxed body. Ten seconds go by. During that time, Satoru finds himself staring at your face, a few smears of dirt on your skin. You breathe in and out, because you have to. It’s not like him and Suguru, who breathe to fake their normalness and blend in. They have no need for oxygen. Your lips look so soft. Your chest rising and falling gently, you look totally at peace, and Satoru is mesmerized. He gets lost in the rhythm of your breaths for a moment— the steady beat of your heart bringing about a peace and longing ache in his own lifeless one. He snaps out of his daze, and rings the bell again, huffing impatiently. Another ten seconds go by, and he starts to spam the bell.

“Where are they?” He grumbles. Satoru slips behind the desk, frowning and pissy, looking into the back room. Nobody is there.

“Seriously?”

He can’t just leave you here when the door is unlocked and the place is unattended. Satoru curses under his breath again, looking down at your sleeping face, your body curled against his frame in his arms.

“Guess Suguru has to confront his demons tonight,” Satoru sighs, not realizing the weight of the statement he’s just uttered.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Sweet, mouth-watering, the scent of a dream— it wafts through the hallway, into his room, and Suguru wakes up with a growling stomach.

Human blood. One that smells absolutely ravishing. Suguru sits up, alert and awake, wondering if Satoru brought back somebody to share, somebody who wanted to be fed on and possibly fucked by the two of them. The raven-haired man stands up and tears open his door—

Satoru is hunched over a body on the couch. Suguru makes his way over, his fangs protruding, his amethyst eyes glinting with hunger—

Satoru finishes wiping the blood off your arm, the sight of the red cloth in his hand making Suguru freeze when he realizes Satoru brought back a hurt person.

“Satoru–”

Satoru turns, standing up, and Suguru finally catches a glimpse of who is on their couch. If his heart was beating, it would have skipped a beat.

Suguru’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape. You?

“Hey,” the snowy-haired vampire says. “Before you get pissed—!”

Suguru is crossing the living room in a flash, shoving Satoru up against the wall. Suguru’s head is ringing, swirling with hunger, anger, fear, grief, and shame. Something as seemingly small as the sight of you did that to him.

“Did you fucking hurt her? I swear to god, if you so much as touched a hair on her head—” Suguru hisses before Satoru shoves his best friend back, scowling.

“Listen for a second! She was in a ditch when I found her, okay? By the construction site. I may not like this little pest of a weakling, but I didn’t hurt her,” Satoru retorts. Suguru backs off, clenching his fists so hard that it draws red blood of his own. His eyes burn holes into the floorboards.

Satoru watches, a beat of silence passing before he speaks up, “Hey, Suguru. Just… just take a moment to get a hold of yourself. If you have to take a walk…”

What Satoru didn’t understand was how absolutely feral Suguru was for you, down to a chemical level. Bringing you around was enough to make Suguru’s head pound with a dizzying need to feast on you— but bringing you when you were bleeding? Suguru is feeling white hot need pulse throughout his body.

“She— she’s not supposed to be here—” Suguru manages to say, his voice strained.

“Why–”

“She can’t be by me!” Suguru roars, looking up from the ground to meet Satoru’s shocked gaze. Suguru’s purple eyes are filled with a storm of anger and pain, and Satoru opens his mouth to apologize—

But Suguru is gone in a blink, the door to their apartment creaking as yellow light from the hallway spills in, falling on your face, painting you in a soft glow.

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maybe-boys-do-love · 3 months ago

Text

It's wild that the whole global trend of gay-focused happy ending romance shows and movies has only been going on for *looks at calendar* a measly ten years!

Just ten years ago. 2014. That's when you get the discovery of a market for queer romance series and films with happy endings. That year the OG Love Sick in Thailand came out. Brazil puts out The Way He Looks, which deserves so much more credit than it receives for influencing the aeshtetics of the genre. Looking premieres on HBO, and although it had low ratings, it's an important touchstone. And, despite Nickelodeon’s censorship and shifting the program from tv to its website, the Legend of Korra confirms Korrasami in its season finale.

The next year, in 2015, we get Love Sick season 2, and China, pre-censorship laws has a few options: Happy Together (not the Wong Kar Wai one lol), Mr. X and I, and Falling In Love with a Rival. Canada, premieres Schitt's Creek. In the US, Steven Universe reveals Garnet as a romantic fusion between two female characters, and will proceed to just be so sapphic. Norwegian web series Skam premieres and sets up a gay protagonist for its third season, which will drop in 2016 and entirely change the global media landscape.

Then, 2016! This is the MOMENT. That aforementioned Skam season happens. Japan puts out the film version of Ossan's Love and anime series Yuri!!! on Ice. China has the impactful Addicted Heroine, which directly leads to increased censorship. The US has Moonlight come out and take home the Oscar. In Thailand, GMMTV enters the BL game and Thai BL explodes: Puppy Honey, SOTUS, Water Boyy, Make It Right, plus, the Thai Gay OK Bangkok, which, like its influence, Looking, is more in the queer tradition but introduces two dramatically important directors to the Thai BL industry, Aof and Jojo.

By 2017, Taiwan enters the game with its History series. Korea’s BL industry actually kicks off with Method and Long Time No See. Thailand’s got too many BLs to mention. Call Me By Your Name, though not a happy ending, makes a big splash that will send ripples through the whole genre, and God's Own Country offers a gruff counter-argument to problematic age differences and twink obsessions. This is also the year of Netflix reboot of One Day At a Time bringing some wlw to the screen, and the Disney Channel has a main character come out as ‘gay’ on Andi Mack ( I’m am ready to throw fists with anyone who thinks the Disney Channel aesthetic isn’t a part of current queer culture). And I'd be remiss not to mention the influential cult-following of chaotic web-series The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: "Sometimes things that are expensive...are worse."

All this happened, and we hadn’t even gotten to Love, Simon, Elite, or ITSAY, yet.

Prior to all this there are some major precursors some of which signaled and primed a receptive market, others influenced the people who'd go on to create the QLs. Japan has a sputtering start in the 2010s with a few BL films (Takumi-Kun, Boys Love, and Jujoun Pure Heart). Most significantly in the American context, you have Glee, and its ending really makes way for the new era that can center gay young people in a world where queerness, due to easy access to digital information, is less novel to the characters. And the QL book and graphic novel landscape was way ahead of the television and film industries, directly creating many of the stories that the latter industries used.

There's plenty of the traditional queer media content (tragic melodramas and independent camp comedies) going on prior to and alongside QL, and there are some outlying queer romance films with happy endings that precede the era but feel very much akin to QL genre tropes and goals, many with a focus on postcolonial and multicultural perspectives (Saving Face, The Wedding Banquet, Big Eden, Maurice, My Beautiful Launderette, and Weekend). I don't mean to suggest that everything I’ve listed ought to be categorized as QL.

Rather, I want to point out how all of these new-era queer romance works are in a big queer global conversation together, in the creation of a new contemporary genre, a genre that has more capacity and thematic interest to include digital technology and normalize cross-cultural relationships than other genres (there's a reason fansubs and web platforms are so easily accepted and integrated to the proliferation of these series).

You're not too late to be part of the conversation. Imagine being alive in the 1960s and 70s and participating in the blossoming of the sci-fi genre. That flowering is where gay romance sits now. Join the party.

#just constantly gob-smacked to be alive right now #i know there's plenty of reason to be horrifically distressed about the condition of the world #queer history #thai bl #japanese bl #korean bl #chinese bl #skam

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schraubd · 4 days ago

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New Frontiers of Darkness

The Washington Post has unveiled its new slogan to supplement (in practice, supplant) the old "Democracy Dies in Darkness": "Riveting Storytelling for All of America." I can't tell you how much I hate this. First of all, even out of context, it sounds both comically corporate and unbearably patronizing. "Riveting storytelling for all of America" sounds like how to market the Scholastic Book Fairs for emerging readers, not one of America's papers of record. But of course, we must take this slogan in context. And the context is the Post spending the last few months humiliating itself and dynamiting its journalistic credibility by repeated acts of groveling towards the MAGA movement. And I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but this slogan really encapsulates the media's self-delusion that it is part of the liberal family. Again, recall my thesis here: the media thinks its main audience is liberals, and so it sees its job as to challenge liberals with "alternative perspectives" or "competing views" (as opposed to just telling the truth and letting the chips fall where they may). One implication of this is that conservatives are a growth audience (because of course the Post in its prior manifestation couldn't be speaking to them) -- this is what "for all of America" means. We're no longer speaking just to the latte-sipping coastal elites, but to all of America. And lest you think I'm projecting, they're being quite explicit that this is what they mean: Mr. Bezos, the founder of Amazon, has made comments in line with the new mission statement in conversations with Post journalists in recent years, according to two people familiar with those discussions. Mr. Bezos has expressed hopes that The Post would be read by more blue-collar Americans who live outside coastal cities, mentioning people like firefighters in Cleveland. He has also said that he is interested in expanding The Post’s audience among conservatives, the people said. Now nominally, recognizing that conservatives are part of the audience could mean that the Post starts committing to telling them things they don't want to hear. For example, they could be informed, in no uncertain terms, how Trump's tariffs will crush working families with spiraling grocery bills. Or they could be told, in clear-eyed fashion, of how Trump's inner circle is proposing increasingly fascistic and lawless abuses of government power. Or they could be shown, without varnish or spin, how the Republican Party has begun to view sexual assault and rape as virtues in its political leaders -- not even a secret to be ashamed of, but as an affirmative basis for support and promotion. But of course, we all know that is not what Bezos and his cronies have in mind. "Riveting storytelling" suggests that what they want is sensation and soothing -- to reaffirm their (new) readers' priors, never to challenge them with something as dirty and discomforting as the truth. Conservatives can't tolerate hearing that Donald Trump was a grotesquely unsuitable choice for the presidency, and so the Post (even in its editorial endorsements) won't aggravate them. The Post knows that many if not most of Trump's cabinet picks fail the most basic (by the Post's own lights!) criteria of qualification for office in a democratic society -- respecting the outcomes of a democratic process -- and so the Post will just pretend it doesn't matter. The Scholastic Book Fair analogy is more than snark, for this is of a piece with the broader trend of infantilizing the American right. Conservatives, once again, are being treated as children, and spoiled children as that -- whatever junk keeps their attention, that's what will be provided. A once great newspaper, reduced to an entertaining diversion for spoiled, coddled brats. Maybe the slogan isn't so bad after all. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/lpZWSRu

#Jeff Bezos #Media #Washington Post

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ffviirarepairweek · 8 days ago

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FFVII Rare Pair Week 2025

So what’s your favourite Final Fantasy VII related rare pair? Do you have more than one? Here’s a chance to showcase them and help them move up from being rare! Not all parts of the pairing have to be from FFVII, and you don’t have to do the same pairing or group for the whole week! ** Pairings can be romantic or platonic. **

Below we have a list of prompts for this year. Feel free to be as creative with those as you want to, and take your time working on your entries, but please don’t forget to post them on the right date if you can. (But remember, no matter how late it’s better than never!)

For this event we are using a category approach. You can use the category as a theme for your prompt and the listed items suggested ideas. If none of the prompts give you any ideas, don’t worry! You can create anything you like for the week, provided it involves a rare pair! The goal of the week is to celebrate and share our rare pairs more than to just follow a list. Be it art, writing, mood boards, or even fic recs, just spread the love!

Feb. 16 | Day 1. Extreme Weather/Natural Disaster. How does your pairing deal with an extreme weather event? If you’re the type to lean toward happy stories, this could be a run of good weather days. If you like your angst, well, this year has already given us some examples of what happens when nature goes wild.

Feb. 17 | Day 2. Sick Day/Medical. Is one of your pairing sick or injured? Or if you don’t like dealing directly with sickness, do they need to cover for a co-worker who has called out sick?

Feb. 18 | Day 3. Crossover. Mix it up with another game, or movie, or book, etc. Mix in your other favourite media, whether the setting, or another character for your pair to meet, or another plot they’re stuck sorting out.

Feb. 19 | Day 4. Events. There’s an event in the calendar. Is it a big to-do? A private date night? Are they celebrating something, or is it a memorial date? What has warranted being marked on their calendar? And what are they going to do about it?

Feb. 20 | Day 5. Free Day/Combo Day. Combo space to mix and match prompts from this year (or a previous year’s list) or go wherever your canoe takes you!

Feb. 21 | Day 6. Pets/Children. How does your pairing feel about pets and/or children? Do they have any? Do they want to? Are they the cool aunts who just want to return them at the end of the day after much sugar or the house with all the cats? Is it a point of contention in their relationship?

Feb. 22 | Day 7. Arts. Music, visual arts, dance. Art can be expressed and appreciated in so many forms. How does your pairing participate in art? Do they have an artistic hobby? Do they share in that hobby, or is one more “talented’? Do they try to get the other(s) involved? (Imagining the pottery moment in Ghost.) Do they have contrasting skills and collaborate? Are they competitive? Do they involve pets/children (if any)?

Need more inspiration? Our past prompt lists can be found below, and you’re welcome to use any of them!

2024 List: https://www.tumblr.com/ffviirarepairweek/740152122290618368/ffvii-rare-pair-week-2024 (has link to all previous year lists - sorry tumblr keeps fighting me about links and saying they’re not real links)

Please remember to include the week’s tag (ffviirarepairweek). You can mention the blog to send an alert about your post to the mod as well. We will NOT accept/reblog anything containing Character/Ship Hate, so avoid including those in your entries. Also don’t repost anyone else’s work as your own! You are welcome to reblog other’s posts, but credit where credit is due.

You can submit your works on AO3 to the event collection at https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FFVIIrarepairweek

And if you have any questions, don’t be afraid of sending in an ask.

We hope it turns out to be a fun event for everyone!

#ffviirarepairweek

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queerliblib · 2 months ago

Note

So the question about books not available on Libby raised another question in my mind. If one of us following you on social media has one of those books that’s unavailable on Libby could we scan it and submit it to you as a PDF somehow so others could access it? I don’t have the several hundred dollar book that was mentioned, and I know this could be dipping my toes into copyright law territory, but it could be beneficial to try and crowd source some of our history, Zine style

ah. okay, love the crowdsource-y punk vibes. however we are NOT in a position to play fast and loose with copyright laws. we can’t even take pdf’s directly from the authors! we have formal non-profit status* and for us, it’s really important that we maintain access nationwide to as many folks as possible, for as many books as we can (and we’re still buying more as fast as our budgets allow - we’re not close to being done yet!)

we’ve got lots of plans to keep growing and expanding our catalogue, but what you’re suggesting is not one of the feasible options for us.

in the meantime, some other great options are to keep requesting queer books from your local public libraries, to use InterLibrary Loan if you (or a friend) has access to a university system, and explore some (legal) Open Access or Public Domain projects that are out there (queer zine archive project, directory of open access books, project gutenberg, etc..)

#*through our fiscal sponsor NOPI -we link on our website #asks #also slightly unrelated but pdfs can be AWFUL for accessibility #like if they dont have OCR (optical character recognition) built in then a screen reader can’t read it #and we also take accessibility pretty seriously around here

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

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To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point.

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some.

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day.

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din.

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display.

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.”

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.”

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?”

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.”

She chuckles, “can be.”

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.”

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.”

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.”

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, he’s... called in.”

“Again?” You whine as you face her.

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs.

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?”

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.”

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?”

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking.

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time.

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful.

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best.

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill.

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting.

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte.

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask.

“Who?” She furrows her brow.

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.”

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?”

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?”

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.”

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.”

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.”

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.”

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth.

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.”

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not.

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him.

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him.

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone.

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch.

“How are you today?” You ask.

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.”

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.”

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit.

“Of course, I always do,” you smile.

“And last time?”

“Last time...”

“Twice.”

You’re confused. What is he talking about?

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--”

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely.

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around.

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.”

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #dark!raymond smith #drabble #series #to a tea #sweet and spicy #the gentlemen #au

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yoursinisforgiven · 20 days ago

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MINX ──

pairing: isaac x reader (pickel)

cw: slight vic x reader (pickel), suggestive, likely takes place sometime before Isaac's final audio, mentions of asriel, direct mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, dancing(?).

you are responsible for your own media consumption.

"The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

But if you feel like I feel..."

Your voice trails off, and a soft hum takes its place, a melody that belongs more to the room than to you. The sunlight has shifted, slanting through the tall windows and scattering patterns across the worn Persian rug. Dust motes dance in the air, caught in a celestial waltz as the rhythm of the music stirs something deep within you. The duster slips from your hand, landing on the desk with a faint thud, forgotten like the rest of the world in this moment of quiet abandon.

The twirl comes naturally, as if your body is answering the call of some invisible conductor. The hem of your skirt flutters like a petal caught in the breeze, and the office—Isaac’s domain—feels momentarily yours. The books, the maps, the small carved owl perched on a shelf as if guarding secrets—they all seem to watch, silent witnesses to your unspoken reverie.

And then there’s the chair. His chair. Sturdy and unyielding, a contrast to the man who occupies it. Isaac is a paradox—precise yet unpredictable, stoic yet brimming with an undercurrent of something raw and untamed. The scent of him lingers here, mingling with the ancient aroma of leather-bound books and the faint smokiness of extinguished candles. It’s a scent you’ve come to associate with comfort and distance, warmth and walls.

“Make sure everything’s perfect,” he had said this morning, his voice sharp but his meaning opaque. Perfect for what? Or for whom? You wonder again, your thoughts weaving through the labyrinth of his words, searching for meaning. Perfection—it’s a word that carries the weight of centuries, the impossible aspiration of philosophers and poets. Does it even exist, or is it just a shadow cast by our longing for something greater than ourselves?

"Please let me know that it’s real

You’re too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you..."

The music shifts, swelling into a crescendo, and your steps falter. You catch yourself on the edge of the desk, your fingertips brushing the cool, polished surface. Your gaze drifts to the globe atop the cabinet, its surface worn smooth in places, the continents blurred by time and touch. How many hands have spun it, how many dreams projected onto its faded map? You think of Isaac, his fingers tracing its surface absentmindedly as he ponders his unknowable thoughts. Does he dream of far-off lands or of mastering the one he already inhabits?

The door creaks open, breaking the spell. You straighten abruptly, your heart leaping as Isaac steps into the room. His presence is a force, filling the space without effort. He pauses, his sharp eyes taking in the scene—the forgotten duster, the soft strains of the music, the faint flush on your cheeks.

“You’re still here,” he says, his voice low, as if he’s caught between surprise and something unspoken.

“You told me to finish,” you reply, the words slipping out too quickly, as though they could cover the vulnerability of being caught in your moment of freedom.

He steps further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. His gaze shifts, settling briefly on the chair, the desk, the faint swirl of dust still hanging in the air. “It looks... different,” he says, his tone neutral but his expression thoughtful.

You glance at Isaac, standing near the doorway, his arms crossed as he watches you with an expression that’s impossible to read. To break the moment—or perhaps to prolong it—you smile, the corners of your lips lifting in a gesture as natural as breathing. The music shifts, the familiar chorus swelling, and with a playful twinkle in your eye, you turn the duster upside down, gripping its handle like a microphone.

“I love you, baby,

And if it's quite alright,

I need you, baby,

To warm the lonely night,

I love you, baby,

Trust in me when I say…”

The words spill out with playful abandon, your voice lilting and carefree. You sway to the rhythm, letting the melody guide your movements, twirling in place as though the room itself were your audience. The hem of your skirt catches the light as it flares, your bare feet gliding over the polished wooden floor. For a moment, you lose yourself entirely in the song, in the sheer joy of the moment.

Isaac’s sharp gaze softens as he watches you, his usual stoicism giving way to something unguarded, something almost tender. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, as if afraid that even the slightest sound might break whatever fragile magic hangs in the air.

You finish the verse with a flourish, holding the imaginary microphone out toward him as if inviting him to join in. “Your turn,” you say with a grin, the teasing in your voice clear.

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh, and shakes his head. “I don’t sing,” he says, but his tone lacks its usual edge, and the faintest smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Everyone sings,” you counter, stepping closer, emboldened by the softness in his demeanor. “Just not always out loud.”

A sharp knock at the manor’s grand entrance echoes through the halls, shattering the fragile stillness. It reverberates off the high ceilings and polished walls, reaching the room where you stand like the final toll of a distant bell. You freeze for a moment, the duster still in your hand, as the warmth of the shared moment dissipates like smoke. You mourn its loss silently, your hand hovering over the record player as the music continues its quiet serenade. Finally, with a steadying breath, you lower the needle and let silence claim the space.

Isaac is already moving. His steps are measured but brisk, his figure disappearing through the arched doorway without a glance back. The faint sound of his footsteps fades, leaving you alone in the quiet room.

A pull of curiosity stirs within you, unbidden but insistent. Isaac’s vague words earlier—“It’s none of your concern”—circle in your mind like a bird searching for a perch. Yet the tone in his voice, the tension in his frame, suggested otherwise. Whoever was at the door wasn’t just any guest.

You place the duster aside, your feet carrying you almost of their own volition toward the kitchen. It’s a safe vantage point, one where you can observe without being seen. As you reach the shadowed doorway, you glimpse the scene unfolding in the entryway.

The grand door, carved with intricate scrollwork, stands open to reveal the figure of a man. Vic.

──

You can almost feel the weight of Vic's gaze pressing against your skin as you lower the drinks onto the small table beside the couch. The silver platter is cool against your arm, tucked there as a shield, though it offers little protection. You straighten slowly, your movements deliberate, careful not to make a sound that might draw further attention. The air in the study feels heavier than the ornate curtains that hang at the windows, dense with words spoken and unspoken alike.

Truthfully, you hadn’t been paying complete attention to the conversation—an intentional oversight. The tone between the two men has been taut, laced with a tension so palpable that your instinct was to blend into the background, to become invisible. And yet, Vic’s presence seems to resist such anonymity, his gaze a force that refuses to let you fade.

He sits relaxed in the chair opposite Isaac, his posture deceptively casual, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. Despite his apparent ease, there’s a sharpness to him—a predator’s patience. His hands cradle the tumbler of amber liquid you’d just placed before him, the faint clink of ice against glass breaking the silence as he swirls it absently.

Isaac, in contrast, is a study in control. His back is straight, his shoulders squared, but there’s a stiffness to his movements, a deliberate restraint that feels as if it might snap at any moment. He leans forward slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped tightly together.

“I didn’t come here for games, Vic,” Isaac says, his voice low, measured, though the edge in it is unmistakable.

The conversation between Isaac and Vic had been sharp, almost clipped, but you had stopped paying attention, caught in the strange pulse of the room, the undercurrent of something unspoken that hummed beneath the words. And just as suddenly as Isaac had started to rise and leave the room, you felt your pulse quicken, the realization that you were now alone with Vic pulling you into the present, a little too quickly.

You glance toward the door Isaac had just exited through, your mind racing for a moment before you shake it off, focusing instead on the man sitting across from you.

Vic, with his smooth confidence and unsettling gaze, notices immediately. “Not to worry,” he says with an easy grin, his voice low and almost teasing. “He’ll be back soon.”

You offer a quiet nod, a soft hum slipping past your lips, but you can feel the tension, thick and palpable, settling between you. He’s studying you, and you can’t quite tell if it’s with genuine interest or the kind of detached amusement that comes from knowing you have the power to unsettle someone without lifting a finger.

With deliberate slowness, Vic reaches for the glass of whiskey you’d placed before him. His fingers brush the crystal, the light catching in the amber liquid as he brings it to his lips, savoring the movement as though every second of it is an indulgence.

When he finally lowers the glass, his gaze doesn’t stray far from yours. There’s something dark in his eyes now, a spark of curiosity, maybe even a touch of something more dangerous.

“I’m somewhat surprised you’re still here,” Vic says, his voice dropping low, smooth like velvet, as if his words are meant to settle in your skin, make you feel them. He leans back in the chair, his posture languid, relaxed, but there’s something in the way he looks at you now—like a cat watching a mouse from the corner of the room.

His eyes never leave yours, and you feel that pull, as though he’s drawing you in with little more than the intensity of his gaze. The whiskey glass in his hand is a casual prop, but the way he holds it—fingers wrapped loosely around the stem—sends an entirely different message. Each subtle motion feels calculated, measured, yet entirely effortless.

There’s a dangerous kind of knowing in his expression, a glint that suggests he’s watching you just as closely as you’re watching him, maybe even more so. "I would have thought you’d slip away by now, when the tension’s thick," he says, his words a slow drawl, drawing out the syllables just a little too much. “But here you are... staying in the eye of the storm.”

The soft clink of the glass as he takes another sip lingers between you both, and you feel the weight of it, how heavy the silence becomes once he lowers the glass. He leans forward, just slightly, the movement so fluid it could have been scripted. His eyes flick to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes, the action so quick, so fleeting, you wonder if you imagined it.

“I wonder,” he continues, his voice barely more than a murmur now, “what keeps you here. Curiosity? Or maybe something else.” His smile is sharp, suggesting more than he says, and you can feel the heat of his words before they even reach you. It’s a light tease, almost playful, but there’s a deeper undercurrent to it—a suggestion, a challenge buried in the half-light of the room.

You shift slightly, uncomfortable under his gaze, and yet, a part of you can’t seem to look away. The question hangs there, unanswered, as he watches you with that half-smile, knowing that the silence is just as much a part of the game as the words. He’s waiting for you to react, to say something, but your lips stay sealed.

Vic watches, amusement flickering in his eyes, before he takes another slow sip from his glass. His gaze flickers once more, lingering on the curve of your neck, your shoulders, his eyes tracing you as though he’s memorizing every detail. When he speaks again, the words seem almost too casual, too effortless, but there’s something deeper, darker beneath the surface.

“Funny,” he muses, his voice still that low, teasing cadence. “Most people would have run by now, would have found an excuse to leave when the game’s no longer in their favor.” He pauses, letting the words sink in, then leans back again, eyes never leaving you. “But you... You’re still here. And I have to wonder why that is.”

There’s a teasing lilt to his tone, but also something far more predatory, like a hunter circling its prey, testing the waters before the real move is made. His eyes flicker over you once more, assessing, as if trying to gauge the depth of your silence, the depth of your thoughts.

The air in the room seems to close in around you, thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread that pulls tighter with every glance, every breath, every slow word he lets slip from between his lips.

The weight of Vic’s gaze is undeniable. It’s as though he’s slowly peeling away the layers of you, studying every detail, the silent tension between you thickening with each passing second. His eyes—dark, unfathomable—seem to wrap themselves around you, pulling you in, making you feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and unsettling.

Then, without warning, his voice slices through the quiet, the question hanging in the air like a charged wire.

“Have you two had sex yet?”

The words land like a shock, the weight of them hitting you just a beat too late. At first, you don’t fully process what he’s asking, the question sitting there, suspended, as if your mind can’t quite catch up with the force of it.

A sudden rush surges through you—a heat that spreads through your chest, up your neck, and ignites your skin. You feel your heart skip a beat, a flare of panic shooting through your chest. The air feels thick, heavier now, the room closing in around you as the question lingers, waiting for a response you aren’t sure you want to give.

You part your lips, your body instinctively recoiling from the boldness of his question, yet your throat feels tight, unwilling to speak, yet forced to answer. “No—No, not yet?” The words come out uneven, clipped, as if your body can’t quite catch up with the rhythm of your thoughts.

Vic’s smirk doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens, his gaze sharpening as he leans forward ever so slightly, as though savoring your discomfort. The tension between you thickens, and he watches you with a mix of amusement and something darker that edges the corners of his expression.

“Yet?” he repeats, his voice low and teasing, the word hanging between you, practically daring you to justify it. "You plan on having sex with Isaac?"

The question hits you again, the weight of it pressing down on you, but this time you’re more aware of how he’s looking at you. His gaze flicks to your lips, then back to your eyes, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. It’s a game to him—this little dance of words, this push and pull—and you’re already caught in it, trapped between wanting to flee and being drawn deeper into the web he’s weaving.

“That’s—That’s not what I meant!” you stammer, your voice rising a bit more than you’d intended, a nervous laugh slipping from your lips as you try to dismiss the question, but his smile only widens at your discomfort.

He tilts his head slightly, that playful glint never leaving his eyes, as if he finds the whole thing utterly entertaining. "Oh?" He leans back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against his whiskey glass, never breaking eye contact. "Then what did you mean, darling?" The term of endearment slips from his lips so casually, so effortlessly, that it feels almost mocking, as if he’s daring you to explain yourself, to offer more than what you’ve said.

The room seems to get warmer, the air thicker with each passing moment. You feel your chest tighten, and the space between you both feels charged—almost electric. He’s not just asking questions anymore. He’s drawing you out, pushing you into a corner, all while maintaining that smooth, confident ease that makes it feel like you’re the one who’s overreacting.

You open your mouth to try and correct yourself, but no words come. Instead, the silence stretches between you, heavy and thick, and you realize that Vic is content to let it sit there, watching you squirm.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” Vic says, his voice a velvet drawl, the teasing edge sharpening now, “do you think Isaac’s the type of man to leave things… unfinished?” His words are slow, deliberate, as though he’s savoring each syllable. “Or is he the kind to tie up all the loose ends… in his own way?”

The way he says it, so casually, with that flirtatious tone beneath it, sends a shiver down your spine. There’s something so disarmingly confident in his voice, in his posture. You wonder how much of this is just a game to him and how much he actually enjoys watching you unravel, just a little, with every word.

He suddenly stands from his seat, walking towards you. Vic’s presence looms over you, and the heat between you both intensifies with each word he speaks. He senses the way your body reacts—how you tense when he gets too close, how your breath hitches when his gaze lingers too long. And he’s enjoying every moment of it, like a predator savoring its prey, watching you squirm under the weight of his attention.

“Still so quiet,” Vic muses, his voice low and smooth, like a velvet caress that sends a shiver down your spine. He takes a step closer, the space between you narrowing, and you feel his gaze trail over you, examining you like you’re a piece of art he can’t quite figure out. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and the intensity of it all leaves you breathless.

He reaches out, casually brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers grazing the side of your cheek with just enough pressure to make your pulse race. The touch is deceptively gentle, yet it carries with it an undeniable weight—a promise of something more. His hand lingers, just a second too long, and when he speaks again, his words are hushed, almost as if he’s whispering to you alone.

“I can feel it,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, thick with something you can’t quite place. “The tension between us. It’s almost... electric.” His fingers trace a slow, deliberate line along your jaw, a touch so light it almost feels like a ghost’s caress, but it lingers in the air between you like a spark that might ignite at any moment.

“Surely Isaac will give you away once he’s done with you, hm?” Vic murmurs, his voice a velvety whisper that sends a shiver crawling up your spine. His breath dances against the side of your neck, warm and intoxicating, and for a moment, you almost forget to breathe. His words leave an ache behind, a nagging question echoing in your mind. When Isaac’s done with you?

You stiffen, instinctively pulling back slightly, but Vic is faster, his grip tightening around your waist, just enough to hold you in place. His eyes, dark with mischief, lock onto yours, and you can see the way he’s enjoying this—enjoying seeing you squirm, seeing the way your composure falters under his teasing touch.

“You’re not really the type to be shared, are you?” he continues, his voice a mix of amusement and something else, something far more dangerous. “I’ve always thought you had a certain... depth to you. So serious, so careful. But I’m starting to think that beneath all that control, there’s a little spark of rebellion.” He leans in just a little more, the air between you crackling, and his lips brush the softest touch against your ear, making your breath catch in your throat. “Tell me, are you the type to be let go of so easily? Just handed over to someone else when they’re done playing with yo—”

Isaac’s voice cuts through the air like a sharp knife, the command so powerful it makes you flinch, your body instinctively recoiling. "Vic. Off. Now," he says, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. His eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, it’s like the entire world narrows down to just the two of you, your heartbeat suddenly thunderous in your chest.

Vic freezes, his hand lingering on the air where it had just touched your waist, but he doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, his lips curl into a mischievous smile, clearly amused by Isaac’s sudden shift in tone. He glances at Isaac, then back at you, his eyes flickering with that same playful intensity, as if he’s enjoying every second of the dynamic unfolding before him.

Isaac’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes a step forward, his presence immediately shifting the energy in the room. “I said, off, Vic," he repeats, his voice no longer laced with the usual calm detachment, but edged with something sharper. The change is subtle, but it’s enough to make Vic’s smirk falter for just a fraction of a second.

Vic, ever the instigator, seems to savor the tension. He leans back slightly, his fingers trailing lazily down the edge of the chair as if he’s considering Isaac’s words, his eyes flicking between you and Isaac. He gives a small, exaggerated sigh, as if reluctantly conceding the point. "Alright, alright," he mutters with a shrug, his voice playful and almost sarcastic.

“I’ll be sure to let Asriel know you both are—involved,” Vic had said, his voice dripping with implication, the inflection on the last word lingering in the air like a challenge. The subtle bite of his words tightens something in your chest, a knot of unease settling deep within. Without waiting for a response, he takes a deliberate step back, his eyes flicking briefly to Isaac as he moves toward the door.

Isaac’s expression hardens just a fraction, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face as Vic walks past him. The tension between the two men is palpable, their silent exchange speaking volumes more than the words themselves. Vic’s gaze lingers on Isaac for a moment longer, studying him with an intensity that feels almost predatory, as if he’s savoring the discomfort he’s just caused.

“Good day, Isaac,” Vic says with a casual smirk, his voice light, but the undercurrent of something darker is unmistakable. He pauses at the door, looking back at you one last time, his gaze lingering for just a beat too long, as if he’s trying to gauge something in your eyes—something he’s not yet satisfied with.

──

author's note: im craving a starbucks cake pop, specifically the pink one with white marble like sprinkles.

the song played at the beginning of the story is 'can't keep my eyes off of you' performed by frankie valli.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #isaac rhoades #zsakuva isaac #isaac x pickel #pickel #zsakuva vic #vic x pickel

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youremyheaven · 2 years ago

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Vedic Astrology Observations

in my previous post, i had mentioned how Uttarashada natives love grandness and glamour. the more i look into it, the more i see these natives indulge in that old world, royaltycore aesthetic. its always go big or go home for them

Sanjay Leela Bhansali, who is known for his splashy period dramas with elaborate costumes and grand set designs has Ketu in Uttarashada

Fan Bingbing who is known for her glamorous and eclectic style has Ketu in Uttarashada (she also has her moon in Revati, another nakshatra that really loves glamour)

Kim Taehyung, who is also known for his preference for vintage glamour has Mercury & Mars in Uttarashada (he also has his moon and ketu in Revati)

Dilraba Dilmurat is another celebrity who is known for her extravagant style (chinese actresses in general have a very regal, extravagant style) and she has Revati Mars as her atmakaraka (her moon is in Punarvasu, a nak known for its girly style)

2. someone previously made a post about how mrigashira natives often play the "bimbo" in movies and ive observed that this also corresponds to real life, where a lot of mrig natives are perceived to be ditzy airheads or for saying crazy insane stuff. i believe its the mars influence that makes these natives speak hastily without much thought.

(Mrigashira moon Rachel McAdams playing Regina George in Mean Girls)

Sonam Kapoor, the bollywood actress is known in the Indian media for being a ditzy airhead 🤣and she has a Mrigashira stellium

Jordan Peterson and Kanye West are both Mrigashira moon natives and they're known for saying the most batshit crazy stuff.

3. ive noticed that many filmmakers who have prominent Uttarashada placements often explore loneliness and isolation or a lack of belonging in their movies. UA being the only nakshatra to possess a mongoose yoni which means its the only nakshatra without a yoni consort could be why these natives are so desperate for connection yet lacking it.

Shunji Iwai, has UA sun, mercury and ketu (a still from his movie Love Letter)

Jim Jarmusch has UA sun and mercury. All his movies are about loneliness and being an "outsider" in one way or another.

Philip Kaufman has Uttarashada moon. Intensely sexual but unbearably lonely.

Murakami who is known for how melancholic and lonely his books are (albeit strange and wonderfully weird) has Uttarashada sun

Another very common theme is how many Uttarashada natives have strange sexual desires, weird kinks and a perverse or odd sexual life/appetite. If you're familiar with Murakami, I need not explain further xD

4. Venusian natives often allude to Venusian imagery, specifically the Birth of Venus by Botticelli in their works.

Cardi B has Revati moon (venus is exalted in pisces) and here she is wearing Thierry Mugler's Birth of Venus dress to the Grammys.

Uma Thurman (from "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen") has Bharani Sun & Saturn and Purvaphalguni Ketu and here she is playing the Goddess herself!

Aishwarya Rai has Purvaashada moon and she is wearing a dress by Gaurav Gupta that references Venus.

Lady Gaga (from her Applause mv) she has Revati Venus Atmakaraka, as we know Venus is exalted in Pisces and Venus in Revati is considered it's best position. I suggest watching the MV since its rife with pisces imagery :-)

Beyonce has Purvaphalguni sun and the deity of Purvaphalguni is Bhaga, the god of marital bliss. Beyonce's interpretation of the Birth of Venus features her with her twin babies and babies signify the consummation of a marriage, thereby making this a uniquely Purvaphalgunian take on the original.

5. This is a no-brainer but mermaids in cinema are often played by Pisces rashi natives.

Halle Bailey is a UBP sun. Lin Yun is UBP moon and saturn with Revati Ketu. Esther Williams who did a string of aquamusicals in the 1950s has Ketu in Revati.

Sade has Revati Moon & Ketu and plays a mermaid in her most popular song's mv.

Samantha Morton has UBP moon, Venus/Mars/Ketu in Revati and she plays a mermaid in U2's Electrical Storm MV.

7. (TW: sexual assault, incest)

The nakshatra most often associated with incest is Rohini and Mrigashira but I would say Ashlesha also features these themes. Growing up in a very controlling household with a cold/controlling mother figure is a huge theme in the lives of Ashlesha natives.

in Donkey Skin (1970) Catherine Deneuve plays a princess who takes the form of a donkey in order to escape from her father, the king who wishes to marry her because she looks just like her mother. This is quite literally the story of Rohini, who was Lord Brahma's favourite daughter, and he was attracted to her. Rohini sensed this and took the form of a deer and ran away. Lord Brahma subsequently assumed the form of a stag and chased her across the heavens. When Rudra found out what was happening he cut off the head of the stag. The stag’s head became the symbol of the nakshatra of Mrigashira. As we can see Rohini & Mrigashira's mythology is deeply intertwined.

Catherine Deneuve has Ashlesha moon and Mars in Mrigashira as her atmakaraka (her Saturn is also placed in Mrigashira and is her darakaraka).

If you watch the movie, you can see how its overloaded with astrological symbolism (its based on a fairytale, so thats not surprising)

the color blue is used throughout the first half of the film when the princess is in her own kingdom, traditionally blue is associated with Saturn. Shani/saturn is our karma, which teaches us things the hard way. The princess (unwillingly) has to leave the comfort of her palace and kingdom, assume the form of a donkey and go work as a pig-keeper. She loses everything she has ever known and has to work her way up from scratch, this is a typical Saturnian journey and most people experience this during their Saturn return (Saturnian folks experience this all their lives).

the color red is used throughout the second half of the movie, in association with the Prince's kingdom. Red is typically associated with Sun and Mars in vedic astrology. as the princess works out her karma and integrates her shadow, she blossoms into a fully integrated individual, this means she has cultivated her identity and the strength to act upon it. from a passive, weak willed princess in her father's castle, who was willing to marry her father due to her fear of hurting him by refusing to do so, she transforms into someone who moulds her own fate through her own actions. (Sun + Mars)

The fact that she assumes the form of a Donkey, itself is very symbolic. Donkeys, in vedic astrology is often the vehicle of Gods. Therefore, it serves as the door that governs her transition from passivity to individuation.

the Prince saw her for her true nature, although everyone around was convinced that she's just a filthy, hideous Donkey Skin clad servant. When the Prince slips her ring back on to her finger, she transforms back into her original self (true love is a mirror that reminds us of who we really are and gives us the courage to shed our worldly personas). The dress she wears then, is a golden one, originally given to her by her father when she said she wanted a dress "like the sun". Yellow is associated with Jupiter. After enduring the trials of Saturn, the Princess who became Donkey Skin, once again becomes a Princess, except now she has freedom. Saturn's teachings guide us to Jupiter's blessings. The movie's ending showing us that once the Princess had successfully overcome her trials and now embraced her true nature.

#sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #astrology notes #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #nakshatras #uttarashada #revati #mermaids

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blueikeproductions · 29 days ago

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So an unexpected lore drop for the Robots in Disguise 2015 cast cropped up.

The Transformers series has an RPG game, though I have no idea if many actually play of it or even know if it.

There’s three books so far.

The third one being the most recent, and a particular surprise that it’s heavily based on Beast Wars, Beast Machines and other series that have included beast characters like both RiDs.

One thing I find funny is the named Maximals are surprisingly small: Optimus Primal, Dinobot, Cheetor, Rattrap, Botanica, Silverbolt and BlackArachnia. The Predacons and Vehicons are much more robust, with Skold from IDW Beast Wars specifically mentioned as a Predacon. Maximal Nyx, as far as I can tell, isn’t mentioned, which is funny because she was treated as IDW BW’s mascot, but was pry the most forgettable character from it. Forgettable to the point she doesn’t appear to be acknowledged here.

What’s most surprising is Beast Machines in general being acknowledged since the struggles between the Maximals and Vehicons aren’t a popular idea to return to. Acknowledging a techno organic Cybertron is almost considered apocryphal to some, but with how increasingly Earth like Cybertron has become in modern stories, perhaps Hasbro is just more accepting of Cybertron’s inevitable evolution into a pseudo organic state.

The book starts out with Cheetor, post Beast Machines, speaking to a human colony on New Earth about the history of the Beast Wars he fought in and other Beast Wars he is aware of such as the events of RotB and RiD01.

Nightshade is listed as a lesser known beast Transformer, and going by the growing apathy towards EarthSpark and it continuing to be a rallying point in grifter spaces, I think that’s gonna remain that way unfortunately. Curiously, as Cheetor is the one that name drops Nightshade, I’m unsure if this is supposed to be the EarthSpark version, or retroactively this is a post BM Maximal version. Going by other chapters that seem to identify characters as belonging to G1/Beast Wars canon, it seems likely this Nightshade is a Maximal rather than a Terran.

Maximal and Predacon biology has never been definitively nailed down before, but this guidebook specifically declares that Maximals and Predacons evolved from Pretender technology and Micromaster technology, something ancillary media suggested before but never set it as hard fact.

The next story features Simacore as part of a Decepticon think tank led by Shockwave, as they discuss what seems to be the modern versions of “Beast Mode” technologies.

Of particular note is what the animal Decepticons in RiD15 are retroactively labeled as: Hybridizors. Hybridizors are apparently a breed of Transformer that has an animal like Robot Mode that converts into a Vehicle Mode. It seems this evokes Fuzors from Beast Wars: Maximals and Predacons who transform into hybrid mutant animals like Silverbolt’s wolf with eagle wings and claws.

Mechanimals are also referenced, a term that’s cropped up in ancillary media that refers to Cybertron’s native fauna: the difference is it now specifically refers to fauna and Transformers who convert from humanoid Robot Modes to robotic Beast Modes like the Dinobots.

With this in mind, we now have two distinct races that make up the RiD15 Decepticons:

Hybridizors: Guys like Steeljaw, Clampdown, Ped, Bisk, Quilfire, Underbite, Scatterspike, Groundpounder, Simacore, RageByte & Springload. While not specified, presumably this also includes Cyclone & Torpedo Mini-Cons.

Mechanimals: Guys like Scowl, Grimlock, Nightstrike, Chop Shop, Filch, Saberhorn, Glowstrike, Scorponok, Scuzzard, Shadow Raker & Zizza.

The crash of the Alchemore is also an event that occurred in this G1/Beast Wars version of events, further solidifying these characters into the general mythos as accounted by Thunderhowl, based on the Cyberverse version funny enough. Thunderhowl does retroactively fit nicely as an RiD15 character, but his defining role in CV is serving Onyx Prime and getting trapped in alien crystals until the end of the Great War. He’s frankly an odd pick as the narrator of the third part of the book, when he’s not a remarkable character and to better fit with the Beast Machines theme, he could’ve been BM Nightscream or TFP Predaking looking at old data trax about Cybertronian history. Just a thought.

What makes the Hybridizor idea most interesting is the writers of the RPG book consulted with RiD15 staff writers to have Steeljaw and company fit in the RPG gameplay. I’m personally excited, since RiD is my favorite series, and getting new lore related to it by the staff is so cool. My only complaint is I kinda wish they thought of this name back then, as it probably would’ve saved a lot of headaches as to what the RiD15 Decepticons are supposed to be. Despite the show making it clear all the animal dudes are naturally occurring species on Cybertron, a lot of fans tended to view them as augmented experiments of Shockwave’s, similar to the Insecticons and Predacons. This does include the Dinobots, but because RiD also states Dinobots are a common reoccurring mechanimal on Cybertron, with RiD Grimlock, Scowl, Velocirazor and Tricerashot examples of this, it makes FoC Grimlock’s Dinobots retroactively bizarre, as why would Shockwave rebuild Grimlock’s unit into Earth Dinosaurs, when Earth Dinosaurs exist on Cybertron anyway? Works if you squint, my actuator.

Still the specific mention of Beast Mode tech does lean pretty heavily into the fan theory Steeljaw and co could’ve been experiments of Shockwave’s, so it’s now officially plausible even though I’m not personally a fan of that idea. Not everything needs to be Shockwave’s fault, I think we learned that the hard way in IDW.

This retroactive labeling is also interesting as the animal Decepticons came about by Hasbro kinda stumbling on it. They didn’t have a clear idea on what RiD’s theme would be so in play testing, they found kids liked to have the Autobot toys fight monster Decepticon looking toys, so that became the defining characteristic.

If you were to go back and rework it to have these Decepticons be a new breed of savage beast and turbo revving machine, equipped with a gimmick like the Energon Ignitors from Bumblebee or the Activator Mini-Cons RiD did use, I think that might’ve helped smooth things over better.

#blueike productions #blueike #transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #transformers robots in disguise #transformers robots in disguise 2015 #transformers roleplay #transformers beast wars #beast machines #beast mode

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cripplecharacters · 2 months ago

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hi! I’m tryi be to write a fantasy book. Most of my characters are disabled for several reasons. For example, 2 of them are written very clearly autistic, because I am*. One of those also has adhd and trauma, and the other also has c-ptsd. My question is pertaining a different character. He is a cyborg. I want to make this a species in my book, but I’m not sure how to go about it. I am also considering making it a catch-all term used in my fantasy world for those who are given prosthetics. Anyway. I want cyborgs to have a culture and stuff like that. How would you recommend you about this? If this isn’t worded very clearly or more details are necessary, please let me know and I’ll elaborate. Thank you. /all genuine *i am not diagnosed, unfortunately

Hey,

[standard disclaimer that we don't have amputee mods]

Please don't make any kind of disabled people into a separate species. What you're describing as a species are literally just amputees. They are very much human and suggesting otherwise is dehumanization. Losing a leg doesn't turn you into a different kind of being.

Don't shy away from using the actual words, just like "disabled" is not a bad word, so isn't "amputee". Same as how autistic people are humans with autism, not [different species] with [sci-fi word].

Making a culture is an interesting topic, since in the disability context, pretty much only Deaf and DeafBlind people are considered to have a culture in the traditional sense. Three main factors are involved in it; one, these often run in families, so there can be generations of people involved and passing the culture and language, two, there are schools designed for Deaf and DeafBlind people that help them connect with each other, and three, the disability directly impacts communication so they have their respective languages, which tends to be an important part of cultures in general. How would the amputee culture of your setting work? Amputation is rarely genetic and not that common, many amputees don't know a whole many other amputees. What would their culture be based on? Amputees will often become disabled later in life, many of them would already have their own communities. How much would different members have in common with each other to create a whole culture? A mobility aid in the form of a prosthetic didn't result in there being prosthesis culture in real life, nor it did for any other mobility aid. I'm not saying they can't have their own culture, but I just don't see how it would come to appear in the setting.

As mentioned earlier, we don't have amputee mods, and it would be helpful to work with a sensitivity reader who is one if you're planning to make a whole culture centering people with a particular disability.

mod Sasza

Hello, thank you for your ask!

A cyborg would not be a different species since they are still part human, and an amputee would especially not be a different species, they are still human and exist as human in the real world. A different species would be something like full robots or ‘humans’ with extremely modified dna to the point that they cannot be classified under homo sapien. To exclude someone from the human species because of their disability would be dehumanization, and I would recommend against it!

Calling everyone who uses a prosthetic a cyborg in a futuristic setting isn’t a bad idea [cyborgs in media are basically just amputees with robotic body modifications], but remember not all prosthetics are robotic, especially leg/foot prosthetics.

As for them having their own culture, I actually like the idea! Just note the culture wouldn’t come from being separated from other groups of people like how historical cultures formed, but rather a culture within the larger culture. In a world where prosthetics are more robotic there would probably be forums and workshops, people passing tips for clustering wires and what joint attachments work the smoothest and what repair shops are affordable. Basically people brought together by something they share, but not isolated from the outside world, if that makes sense.

And as always remember, cybernetic prosthetics aren’t perfect replacements! Here is a post that elaborates on that specifically:

https://www.tumblr.com/cripplecharacters/764893470773084160

Have a lovely day!

Mod Rot

#mod sasza #ilov3b00kss0much #amputee representation #fantasy tropes #mod rot

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borgialucrezia · 9 months ago

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okay i know you've mentioned/answered this a million times but i would love to get your top recommendations for borgias published books and content.

i haven't really ventured into those selections but i really want to take the leap into that realm and buy/borrow some books and read them..!

(also i'm curious if you read many fanfictions for the borgias, and if so do you have any good recs?)

💞

hi <33! no worries at all! i love being asked questions about everything related to the borgias, as i get very enthusiastic about them. now, let's start with my favorite borgias biographies:

maria bellonci's 'lucrezia borgia' because i'm very obsessed with accuracy and avoiding cliché biased narratives. it's such a solid read really! it also portrays lucrezia in a way that i've always believed she was—a completely misunderstood woman who is a pawn in the power and ambition games of her father and brother. but deep down, she's just a silly, pretty poetry lover who's guilty by association. this book also debunks cesare's supposed "jealousy" towards juan as the shows how much he loves him (based on the letters to each other) and that rodrigo has always loved his children equally, which is a cherry on top lol.

emma lucas's 'lucrezia borgia.' while it's not entirely accurate because it satisfies my beloved (but not accurate) 'lucrezia is a femme fatale and not saintly' narrative (which i love, by the way), i'm fascinated by how it unexpectedly delves deep into her family, especially rodrigo, cesare, and juan. it also provides great anecdotes about the characters so there's that. despite having negative reviews, the biography is actually very well-written and highly entertaining! fuck the gossip!

christopher hibbert's 'the borgias and their enemies.' for some reason, i keep forgetting to recommend this book to my friends. i tend to get easily investedwith any borgia book that focuses on the pope and his children, providing narratives without forcing you to choose what to believe. the author obviously conducted extensive research before publishing it because when reading a biography (not historical fiction), i prefer to avoid biased perspectives that can be heavily misleading. i also appreciate the fact that machiavelli (and other important figures) plays an important role in this biography because i'm always excited about him.

ferdinand gregorovius' 'lucretia borgia according to original documents and correspondence of her day'. it's also a very unbiased excellent piece of history that is full of validated source. and i just adore how the author is pro-lucrezia as well.

samantha morris' 'cesare and lucrezia: brother and sister of history's most vilified family' is also well documented and well researched! while cesare was given more depth than lucrezia, still, lucrezia's character in this biography is more colorful. obviously the most popular narrative for the borgia family is them being incestuous, corrupt and violent, a family to be feared, but the author suggests otherwise as she sets out to prove this is not the full story and she does make a good argument! as she detailed how they've been portrayed by mainstream media as well as detailing what happened to their descendants.

sarah bradford's 'lucrezia borgia.' okay, so this one isn't a favorite of mine, but i'd recommend it to you or anyone who's a huge fan of ceslu. it's written like a love story biography exclusively about them. while i like how she wrote about ceslu, i heavily dislike how she wrote about juan and rodrigo and how she portrayed them based on narratives from the family's enemies. the author also manipulated a letter about the envoy boccaccio, which is supposed to praise both brothers. but instead, the author just one-upped him with cesare by dunking on him, which i personally find lame and intensely inaccurate since juan borgia was pretty much loved by his wife, his family, and his friends based on the retrieved documents and letters. that being said, i do enjoy the ceslu parts, of course, and i believe any fan of showtime's 'the borgias' who ships ceslu would enjoy this book and its fluent writing and can easily ignore the negatively inaccurate narratives about the other members of the family.

that's all for the biography books! now let's start with historical fiction:

sarah dunant's 'blood and beauty'. one thing about me is that i'm never gonna stop praising this book because it is absolutely my favorite historical fiction book about this extraordinary family! again, i get so invested in any book when the author does extensive research. also, if you're looking for a book about this family that reads like an episode of showtime's 'the borgias,' then this book is your go-to! full of interesting dynamics, and yes, cesare is as cruel and megalomaniacal as history and machiavelli portrayed him, lucrezia as a victim of her father and brother's political ambitions game, and juan as the flawed kid who was eventually sunk deep when he got dragged into his father's ambitions game. while the book doesn't provide a deeper exploration of the characters' psyche, it's more focused on the story by making it very engaging and sheds light on their complex relationships and their rise to power. and every character is highly sympathetic as the author brilliantly humanizes them. in short, it is emotionally intriguing and a must-read for the borgias enjoyers.

mario puzo's 'the family'. you know, i wasn't even surprised a bit that this book's writing and story being groundbreaking because after all, it is written by the author of 'the godfather'. the family is such a compelling book, such tender writing when it comes to lucrezia and cesare. the story becomes intriguing the more you read. i also loved puzo's portrayal of rodrigo as this family man who deeply loves his children yet he uses them as pawns (which is also similar to jeremy irons' portrayal). while i gotta criticize that the characters have no depth and his version of lucrezia as this damsel angel for her father and brother is, uhhh… quite boring. i like her when she's multilayered lol. i also think the way he tried to present cesare and give him the "from zero to hero" trope in order to make him relatable is also lame because cesare's success as a historical figure is because he was calculating and wicked, and definitely not a bitter loser. i mean, i could absolutely ignore the bitterness part, but at least françois arnaud's cesare added so many layers and swag in the characters, therefore you could ignore it. but i can overlook all that when there's an engaging story and great writing, no matter what the characterizations are like. so overall, it's impressive and entertaining, and you will definitely enjoy it.

regarding fanfiction; i'm sorry but i never read any because i feel quite satisfied by all 'the borgias' show canon that we have and all these historical books. i wish i could help with recommending fics :/

thank you very much for the question, and i hope this post answers it. have a great day 💕🫶

#silvermars 💌#loved answering this one!#book recommendations #the borgias #biography #historical drama #historical fiction #historical figures #renaissance #house of borgia #lucrezia borgia #cesare borgia #juan borgia #rodrigo borgia #mario puzo #sarah bradford #text post

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willowbilly · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!

Do you have any recommendations for resources on Inuit names in the mid 19th century? I’m working on a post-canon The Terror fic and I want names for OCs.

Ii, sure thing! I don't know of any Inuit name databases in modern standardized orthography, specifically, but I have some resources!

Most important is to keep dialect, orthography, and the kinship system in mind. If your OCs are Ugřuliŋmiut, Qikiqtarmiut, Natchiliŋmiut, or any other speakers of what may possibly be termed a Nattilingmiutut (sub)dialect, I'd suggest hewing toward phonetically modern Natchiliŋmiutut in the way that I think the book ᐊᒡᓗ | Aglu | The Breathing Hole does for its Inuktut starting from Act One in 1535 onward, resulting in intervocalic [h] rather than [s] and so on, as this way one can more closely rely on available resources that reflect today's modern language. If one uses modern standardized orthography, then try to standardize all the names alike into the same qaliujaaqpait, for example by representing the voiced velar nasal [ŋ] phoneme with either /ŋ/ or /ng/ throughout all names; otherwise, keep period-typical spelling for all the names, and note that you may need to “de-update” names from modern standardized spelling so that they meet the same nonstandard standard. “Aglukkaq” is spelled in modern standardized orthography; “Aglooka” is in period-typical nonstandardized orthography. Modern standardized orthographies for Inuit languages are highly phonemic, meaning that the spelling systems' graphemes more consistently correlate to the languages' phonemes, and usage of modern standardized orthography in the historical setting could imply that the POV character is better able to discern how the language actually sounds. Kinship terms would be usual in place of speaking a relative's name, and people adopted into a community would be given kinship terms or, with a name, the kinship terms that correspond to their namesake. Inuit names are all functionally unisex!

Inuit naming is a brief article by Peter Irniq. He mentions the -nnuaq and -nnuałłuk postbases as the Natchiliŋmiutut ones preferred over other Canadian dialects' -kuluk.

Janet Tamalik McGrath's master's thesis Conversations with Nattilingmiut elders on conflict and change: Naalattiarahuarnira touches on the kinship system's traditional usage.

I highly recommend going through The Netsilik Eskimos: Social Life and Spiritual Culture by Knud Rasmussen, wherein his census record as many names as he could in his own orthography, influenced by his fluency in Kalaallisut. The name “Orpingalik” from his orthography may be modernized to “Uqpiŋalik;” “Qaqortingneq” to “Qakuqti’niq;” “Uvlúnuaq” to “Uplunnuaq;” “mane·lAq” to “Maniilaq;” “kiɳmiArtɔq” to “Kiŋmiaqtuq;” et cetera.

Modern Inuktut language surnames are all derived from traditional given names, so looking at prominent Inuit figures, and at who is portrayed and credited in media such as on IsumaTV, can yield great results! Though note that some names will be dialect-specific, and many surname spellings predate standardization. Thus, surnames such as Louie Kamookak's and Sammy Kogvik's would be standardized to “Qamukkaaq” and “Qurvik” respectively.

The Natchilingmiut Uqauhingit | Natchilingmiutut Dictionary is indispensable, both for with which to double-check one's spelling, and for the nouns therein that may make for suitable names! Common nouns like tuktu “caribou,” ujarak “rock,” and kuplu “thumb” are all solid choices. If one is feeling daring, one may even combine a verb root with the intransitive indicative mood singular verb ending +ř/tuq (+řuq after vowels, +tuq after consonants) to make a noun participle. Postbases like -nnuaq (noun-to-noun; “the small Noun”) and -’ř/-rřuaq (noun-to-noun; “the big Noun”) may additionally be incorporated so long as one is confident of one's grammatical synthesizing.

To that aim, the sites uqausiit.ca and tusaalanga.ca are really very wonderful, uqausiit being a dictionary, tuhaalaŋa having a glossary with more than a few audio entries, and both holding extremely useful grammar basics on several central Canadian Inuit language varieties that include Natchiliŋmiutut! Other great sites I recommend are inuktitutcomputing.ca (grammar and some Natchiliŋmiutut in the dictionary); inuinnaqtun.ca (closely related language Inuinnaqtun resources); and inupiaqonline.com (Alaskan Iñupiatun language dictionary)! The Inuktitut Magazine archive is available online for free as well!

Everyone should also read Aglu, because I hath saith. One should cry for Aŋu’řuaq, that good bear. (Natchiliŋmiutut translation included!)

Any mistakes herein are mine; if spotted, feel free to please correct! (A variant by the qakuqhi- in the dictionary may be Qakuqhi’niq…and perhaps Qakuqhinniq would furthermore be the better standardization as I am unsure as to whose precise subdialects assimilate the latter [t] in what I presume is the ∓tit- morpheme into /’/ versus /n/, and so on…) I do hope this is helpful!

#the terror amc #linguistics #inuit languages #languages #inuktitut #natchiliŋmiutut #my posts #answered asks #asks #or no; maybe it should be qakuqtinniq as the standard because otherwise #where is the phoneme that knud was hearing at the end of qakuqhi- i wonder?#i call the netsilik hunter aŋutimmarik #the other shaman: niunnuaq #but there are many names out there! namesake matters more than meaning #names being like inherited souls unto themselves; aspects of which are imparted #breath-soul. soul-soul. name-soul. together complete a human #i really do apologize that among my top replies are “modernize some yourself” but the dictionaries really do help

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 year ago

Text

Endgame: The Book Report

So here it is. It kinda goes off the rails towards the end. That's the problem with having to drink through this: it's very easy to lose your train of thought, so you end up rambling.

As always, the TL;DR first. I'm goign to use headings and subheadings in the report below for easier skimming.

There aren't many new revelations, but there's still a bombshell.

It's not as bad as Finding Freedom but it's still not good.

Scobie definitely holds a grudge for the way he was treated after Finding Freedom published.

The hypocrisy is unreal.

Scobie and the Sussexes don't understand how business works.

An important conversation on race gets lost.

Rage against the machine and media

Not many new revelations, but there's still a bombshell.

There isn't a whole lot that's new. Most of the book (maybe 75%/80%) is things we already know about because they were covered extensively by the media when it happened.

Sources. He never names names, so the whole thing is written based on anonymous sources and it doesn't seem reliable. Not to mention, some of the sources read like it might be the same person, but Scobie is treating them as different people so it looks like he has a ton of sources. It suggests, to me, that he doesn't have the kind of access he claims to (which is probably true. There was a leak a couple months ago by one of the royal reporters that Scobie once called them begging for contacts and sources because no one was talking to him) and he's scrambling to cover it up.

Piers Morgan. Scobie confirms that Piers is close to Camilla. They grew up near each other and have fond memories of their hometown that they’ve connected over. There’s a 10-year age gap between them so it’s more like they have people/experiences in common than they played together. Scobie is careful not to say that he thinks Camilla gives information to Piers but he makes it clear that Piers’s loyalty has not gone unrecognized by Camilla.

The Bee, The Wasp, and The Fly. Harry's villains in Spare, which he nicknamed so he wouldn't be sued could speak more openly about them. I remember a lot of guessing about who these were but I can't recall if anyone confirmed their names. Well, Scobie does.

The Bee is Edward Young, whom Harry hates because “Young abused his gatekeeping power, gaslighting him when it came to passing along important messages about his lawsuits to the media, and then prohibiting access to his grandmother when Harry needed her the most, all under the guise of ‘protecting the sovereign’.” Harry and Scobie also believe that Young truly loathed Meghan and “was slow to help find patronages and active roles” for her after the wedding. “Sources say he ‘dithered’ for eight months before nudging Queen Elizabeth II to appoint Meghan as the royal patron for the National Theatre.” (So Meghan is incapable of doing her own work to find suitable charities and patronages? So much for hitting the ground running like she claimed.)

The Wasp is Clive Alderton. He's Charles's crony.

The Fly is Simon Case, whom Harry sees as the cause for his and William’s relationship breaking. In Harry’s perspective, Case made moves that prioritized William’s role as heir without consideration for Harry. Some of Case’s actions felt like they were made to promote William at Harry’s expense (for instance, Harry believes Case pushed British media to attack the Sussexes over their travel by private flight and organized the Cambridges’ commercial Flybe flight to Balmoral with the express purpose of being able to tip off the press).

Rota System. Scobie describes how the rota works. It is the most complete explanation of how the rota works that I can recall reading in royal books and I can't see them being very happy he pulled the curtain back. (More on this in the 'Media' section further down.)

Courtiers - Scobie explains that in the palace lexicon, a courtier is “a press official or private secretary who manages and offers advice to working royals, strategizes engagements, and releases information.” These are Diana’s “men in gray suits.”

The bombshell - Scobie implies that Harry accused Christian Jones of either hacking his and Meghan’s phones/office(s) and feeding information to Dan Wootton at The Sun or facilitating access for Wootton/The Sun to hack their phones/offices, leading to Wootton’s Megxit scoops.

Scobie doesn’t say that specifically and he’s careful to paint Harry with sympathy but it’s there between the lines. After describing what happened, Scobie writes that Harry was surprised by the Palace’s response, that they were angry at him, not Jones, and that they had arranged a lawyer for Jones (which is, to me, the first subtle hint that Harry wasn’t just complaining and had actually made some kind of accusation). Scobie goes further to say that the Palace interpreted Harry’s complaints as a threat to sue so they lowered the boom and then Harry realized how badly he fucked up so he did the classic “you’re overreacting, that’s not what I said.”

The timeline is a little unclear but from Scobie’s writing, Harry’s “report” to higher authorities of his concerns about Jones and The Sun happened in April 2020 after “starting” in January 2020 at the Sandringham Summit when Harry apparently spoke to William about this. Now, this is where I get a little “be fucking for real.” Let’s be clear: the Megxit statement was Harry announcing his intent to quit and the Sandringham Summit was the BRF saying “we accept your resignation, your last day is X” (which ended up being March 9th, the Commonwealth Service). Which means that by the time April rolled around and Harry made this “report,” he was no longer an employee of the firm; he was, for all intent and purpose, a disgruntled ex-employee with a grudge. Of course the Palace is going to come down hard on him, because they’re going to protect the person who is still there working for them.

Harry (and Scobie) seem to believe that this “report” of his concerns with The Sun is directly connected to the palace’s decision in July 2020 to cut off all the financial support he and Meghan were still getting from the Crown, including the official private security that Charles was paying for. (This is the second subtle hint that his “report” was actually some kind of accusation or threat.) Maybe there is a correlation, maybe there isn’t. But at the end of the day, Harry fucked around and Harry found out.

(Christian Jones comes up again in the Media section.)

It's not as bad as Finding Freedom, but it's still not good.

Finding Freedom. One of the things everyone roasted Scobie on was all the merching, name-dropping and brand promotion that was in Finding Freedom. He must have learned his lesson because there’s very little of this. In that regard, Endgame isn’t as obnoxious to read.

The Crown. Scobie mentions The Crown a few times and talks about a couple of plot points. It only happens three or four times, but it’s a definite clue that his audience is the casual royal watcher here only for the drama. It’s hard to take him (or anyone, really) serious when he’s compelled to base the veracity of something happening on whether, or how, The Crown covered it.

Editing and fact-checking. The editing (grammar, punctuation, etc.) isn’t as bad as in Spare, but Scobie and his team definitely have some mistakes. Someone on that team doesn’t know how to write a list, so there’s a lot of strange clauses and phrases.

With the fact-checking, there are a few glaring errors that close followers/watchers of the royal family will pick up. The most egregious one is this sentence:

During a conversation just hours after the September 19, 2022, funeral of Prince Philip, Harry confronted his father and brother about why nothing was done on Meghan’s behalf.

Philip’s funeral was April 17, 2021, and we know there was a Harry-Charles-William confrontation afterwards. The Queen’s funeral was September 19, 2022, and no one reported a Harry-Charles-William confrontation afterwards, so I don’t think it happened there. (Also William wasn’t talking to Harry by September 2022 - Scobie makes it painfully clear that William was both refusing to see Harry and refusing to take his calls.)

However, if you google Prince Philip’s funeral, you get this:

The truth is that Philip’s funeral was on April 17, 2021. But Philip wasn’t actually buried (i.e., placed in his final resting place) then. That had to wait until The Queen’s funeral, and it was widely announced at the time that he would wait. The Queen and Prince Philip were both interred together on the evening of September 19, 2022, in a private family-only service.

So that’s some very lazy fact-checking. It's Internet 101: Verify, verify, verify.

Other similar instances:

Scobie’s description of The Queen’s return home to London: "Five days into the ten-day period of national mourning, King Charles and Camilla, Queen Consort, received the coffin at RAF Northolt, on the western outskirts of London. It was there the royal family handed over her body to the public she served--Her Majesty then lay in state until the day of her funeral." (Charles and Camilla weren’t at RAF Northolt. They received the coffin at Buckingham Palace - remember, Scobie? When you got the only photograph of the moment because Meghan tipped you off?, and the family didn’t “hand over” The Queen until the following day, Day Six.) (Here’s the livestream from RAF Northolt; go to 25:07 for a view of the receiving party).

Scobie writes that Sara Latham was working for the Sussexes in Summer 2018, but she wasn’t hired until March 2019. (The specific quote is in the Meghan’s Lapdog section below.)

Scobie writes that William “automatically became the Prince of Wales--the Duke of Cornwall in England and the Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew in Scotland” on the Queen’s death and Charles’s accession. William got the Duke of Cornwall and the rest on Charles’s accession. Charles had to bestow Prince of Wales on him.

The second instance of fact-checking that jumps out is Scobie’s own fact-checking on misinformation about Harry and Meghan, yet he perpetuates it against other members of the royal family. Here’s an example. Scobie discusses how News of the World published stories about Harry's drug use as a teenager but then goes on to say:

While Harry has admitted to spending many nights at Highgrove getting high and drunkenly falling into trouble at a local pub in Wiltshire, the story failed to mention that this rebellious time in his life was partly the result of Charles leaving him alone at his country mansion for a majority of the summer in 2002.

But then Scobie gives only partial stories for other royals, conveniently leaving out the pieces that nullify his argument:

It's impossible to forget the time Kensington Palace issued an official statement in defense of Kate after a plastic surgeon had suggested to a newspaper that she, then the Duchess of Cambridge, had 'baby Botox' injections to reduce wrinkles.

and

And who can forget when [Edward and Sophie] was sent to Antigua and Barbados, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, and Saint Lucia just one month after William and Kate's flop Caribbean tour?

and

“There is even a rumor (one that, surprisingly, sources have confirmed) that Charles likes to have someone squeeze exactly one inch of toothpaste onto his toothbrush for him ahead of his bedtime routine.”

The truth is that KP only took action about Kate's baby Botox claims because the surgeon was using her image to promote his practice. And the way Scobie describes the then-Wessex tour of the Caribbean, he means for us to think it was an apology tour after the terribly-received Cambridge tour, but that is not at all the case: the Cambridge tour and the Wessex tour were both announced on the same day, in the same press release. And yes, Charles did once have someone toothpaste his toothbrush, but only when he had a broken arm/wrist and couldn’t do it himself.

Citations. Let me ask you a quick question first. When you read a nonfiction book like this, you expect the author to cite their sources in the text, right? You want the footnotes and the endnotes so you can look up where things are coming from, right? Well, not Scobie! He lumps his sources and citations together in a “credits” section at the end of the book. If you want to know what a source says or which article he’s referencing, good luck. For me, this is terrible practice because it obscures and obfuscates the strength of his work. It calls a lot of questions about the accuracy of his reporting that he can’t properly attribute his quotes, sources, or reference materials and makes the possibility that his entire book is the same handful of anonymous sources more likely.

Strange interludes. Throughout the book, there are strange interludes of, well, history lessons. There are sections on Charles II and William IV, sections about Hamlet and Beckett, and Scobie even discusses Lucy Worlsey’s book on Georgian courtiers (YOU KEEP LUCY WORLSEY OUT OF YOUR MOUTH **Will Smith slap**). I see what he’s doing - he’s trying to connect the issues in the modern House of Windsor with other periods of institutional stability - but it doesn’t really work. It’s awkward. In some places it works better than others, like the piece about Worlsey’s courtiers goes easily with Scobie’s discussion of Charles’s courtiers. But to bring up William IV only to point out how Charles is older than him? It’s clunky.

What exactly is this book? I don’t know. Sometimes it’s a cultural interpretation of the modern House of Windsor in the new Carolean age through the lens of media relations.

Sometimes it’s Scobie’s memoir. He puts himself in the middle of these stories a lot, to the point where it’s like 50% his personal recollection and 50% commentary. We get it, man. You have a fabulous job with access to the kinds of people and events the rest of us can only dream about it. But it’s not about you. It’s about the people around you. Take yourself out of it.

Sometimes it’s an investigative journalism-like expose. It reminds me a lot of the works by the muckrakers, who were working hard to expose corruption and implement reform. There are sections of the book that feels preachy, where Scobie is writing about his ideas for how the palace’s relationship with the media need to change or how their stance on race relations could modernize, and when it’s not accepted or taken seriously, you can feel his anger seeping off the page that no one’s listening to him.

And sometimes it reads as if it’s been ghostwritten by Meghan and Harry themselves. There are some stories, some quotes, some details–especially post-Megxit–that could only come from them, or people very close to them in California. And you know, given how intensely private Harry and Meghan are, they absolutely consented to those stories being part of Scobie’s book. Scobie tries hard to cover those tracks but it leaks through. Here are some of those quotes/sections:

The next morning, after a further Palace update warned that her doctors were 'concerned for Her Majesty's health and have recommended she remain under medical supervision,’ an insider messaged me to say, 'It's not looking good.' For a multitude of reasons, I hoped the warning would turn out to be false. Arriving at ABC News' offices that Thursday afternoon, I received a text from someone very close to the family. As I caught my breath in the elevator of the Disney-owned building, 'A Spoonful of Sugar' was playing quietly in the background, making a surreal moment even more so. 'Please don't say anything yet, but I think it's happened,' they wrote. I responded with a follow-up, checking that I understood their message correctly. No doubt trying to get confirmation of their own, the source--someone whose word I had come to trust over recent years--didn't reply.

and

[Princess Michael] later apologized for the indiscretion (though never directly to Meghan), but according to sources, the princess still shrugs and wrinkles her lip when the subject comes up. 'I don't think she particularly cared,' a senior royal source told me.

(how would Scobie know she never apologized directly to Meghan?)

and

As the morning sun rises over Santa Barbara, bathing the steep Santa Ynez Mountains, and the Pacific Ocean sparkles with California's trademark glow, the sprawling Sussex compound in the wealthy enclave of Montecito is already popping. With Meghan already preparing a family breakfast in the kitchen, Prince Harry is busy getting the couple's children, Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet, ready for nursery school and toddler playgroup, respectively. Despite the staff on hand to help during the daytime, when Harry and Meghan shift into work mode, the Sussexes keep their mornings as time 'for the family only,' said a source--no staff.

and

The Sussexes' team received correspondence from Buckingham Palace's Keeper of the Privy Purse Sir Michael John Stevens, who informed Harry and Meghan that, as they were no longer working royals or based in Britain, they needed to give up the keys to their royal rental, Frogmore Cottage. Although there were reports to the contrary some months later, I spoke to a source close to the couple on the day they were informed, and there was a clear feeling of shock and disappointment as the news sunk in.

Kate. How Scobie writes of Kate reveals that he may not be as close to the Waleses as he claims:

And now, like Diana, she, too, is the Princess of Wales. It’s a title that carries a huge and extremely important legacy, but sources close to the royal (who, for those wondering, ‘is just as happy being called Kate as she is Catherine’) say she is surprisingly ‘unfazed’ by her new destination.

I’m specifically talking about why he calls her Kate versus Catherine. (And I have issues with “surprisingly ‘unfazed’” too.) Yes, everyone knows that at one point, she was called Kate. But it’s been made very clear that she prefers to be called Catherine. She introduces herself as Catherine. William and the family calls her Catherine. She signs her letters, cards, and tweets as Catherine. She asked her own friends and her own family to call her Catherine. Nobody calls her Kate except the public, and I feel pretty confident in saying that the “call me Kate or Catherine” message was explicitly intended for the general public, because she isn’t going to be all ‘ahem, my name is CATHERINE’ to fourteen-year-old Jennifer who’s so excited to see her, and the press decided to lump themselves into that category because their SEO is tied to ‘Kate.’

But what I’ve noticed is that people in the traditional press are starting to call her Catherine, especially those that write books. The shift seems to have begun when The Queen passed and Kate became The Princess of Wales.

So for Scobie to happily call her Kate and justify it with ‘well she said it’s OK!’ when she very clearly prefers Catherine makes him more uncredible. He can call Meghan by her preferred name. Why can’t he call Kate ‘Catherine’ because she prefers it?

(As for “surprisingly unfazed” - listen. The woman took William back seventeen years ago KNOWING that this was her future. That’s 4 years “pre-engaged” and almost 13 years of marriage, and you’re telling me you’re shocked, just SHOCKED, that she was prepared to be the Princess of Wales? Scobie, please.)

Scobie holds a HUGE grudge about the way he was treated after Finding Freedom.

He’s not Meghan’s lapdog! Much of the criticism Scobie endured from Finding Freedom were allegations of how close he was to Meghan. He denies, denies, denies all through Endgame, and those statements are dripping with scorn and derision. He absolutely hates that people don’t take him seriously because of a perceived connection to Meghan:

The papers would often refer to me, incorrectly, as Harry and Meghan's 'pal,' another lie largely created to delegitimize the details I was sharing from sources close to the couple that often went against narratives that tabloids were reporting.

He goes to great lengths to tell us and make sure we know that he is not close with Harry and Meghan, that he is close to their communication aides/staff. That may or may not be true, but it certainly does not help his case when he keeps saying things like:

During the peak of [Meghan's racism on-slaught and Scobie's social media pile-on] in late summer 2018, I received a call that I thought was from the couple's head of communications at the time, Sara Latham. We had been texting back and forth about an upcoming royal engagement. 'Hi, Omid!' a female voice chirped. It was different to Latham's northwestern American accent. 'It's Meghan.' I put my iced coffee down, not quite sure if the call was a prank. 'We saw your name keep coming up on the phone...and I just wanted to say high, see how you're doing.' Sara had mentioned to her that I was dealing with my own online harassment and threats.

and

When the couple left their children in California with Meghan's mother, Doria Ragland, and a nanny to visit the United Kingdom and Germany for five days of engagements in September 2022, neither knew that the quick-fire trip would result in a two-week return to royal drama. Neither did I. During this visit, I joined some of their engagements and watched as Meghan gave a speech to teenagers and young adults at the One Young World summit in Manchester.

and

That summer, Christian Jones--who remained at Kensington Palace to oversee all the Cambridges' media efforts--messaged me out of the blue to say it would no longer be appropriate to socialize. Another aide later told me that William had requested this. As we approached 2020, I felt the growing strains on my working relationship with Kensington Palace, who were also much more guarded when it came to their own communication with the Sussex team at Buckingham Palace. I was still invited to the private briefings and announcements but, two months after returning from an October tour with the Sussexes in southern Africa, one of William's aides revealed that William felt 'uncomfortable' with my relationship with the Sussex team.

He’s so close to the Sussexes that Meghan has personally spoken to him, that he was invited to cover their fauxyal tour in September 2022, and William himself is uncomfortable with the access he has to Harry and Meghan. And he doesn’t see how or why people may think he’s in Meghan’s pocket?

It’s very clear that Scobie thinks of himself to be a consummate journalism professional, a neutral third-party whose only loyalty is to truth and fact. According to himself, he can report a Cambridge/Wales versus Sussex issue fairly, accurately, and evenly, but the way he describes certain events taking place tells us that part of his dislike for William is because William never gave Scobie the opportunity to prove it; William, or William’s team, saw Scobie getting closer to the Sussexes and nipped his “both sides of the fence” strategy in the bud. This, I suspect, is why he’s so offended when people accuse him of being close to Meghan and Harry - because by being so closely linked to the Sussexes, he lost preferential treatment from the Cambridges and that absolutely reflects poorly on him.

Lost access. Scobie is very transparent and very clear that he lost sources and access to Kensington Palace several times because of his “loyalty” to the Sussexes, most especially after Finding Freedom published:

Owing to a unique pool of sources and a refusal to follow the crowd, I quickly became a trusted confidante for many in and around the younger family--a true insider. But all that changed in late 2020 after the publication of my first book, Finding Freedom, about Harry and Meghan's whirlwind journey in, and out of, the House of Windsor...The fear of damaging revelations scared the family and angered powerful Palace operatives, and it also put a mark on my back...I'm still in the mix, but let's just say I'm no longer the journalist who some in the family, or the more royalist-leaning correspondents, are thrilled to see at engagements. Having moved away from playing the Palace game of give-and-take to maintain access, I am now a perceived source of trouble for the institution.

While he’s mostly bitter that Finding Freedom cost him sources and affiliation, he also sees it as a badge of honor, arrogantly boasting:

I am now a perceived source of trouble for the institution. Why? Because I know--and share--too much. For four years, some of the most damaging in Windsor history, I witnessed the full scope of the deceptions, malice, and defensive posturing of an unstable family business and an institution in decline. I saw how far they would go to save their own skin, the deep corrosion at the heart of the royal establishment, and I've witnessed the human damage done because of it."

and

Parts of this book will burn my bridges for good. But to tell the full story, there’s no holding back. Not anymore. We’re in the endgame. (Isn’t this the same speech Ironman gives in Avengers: Endgame?)

The hypocrisy is unreal.

Overly sympathetic to the Sussexes. We all knew that Endgame would be clearly biased in favor of the Sussexes since that’s where Scobie has drawn battle lines, but the extent to which he gives Harry grace and sympathy is beyond astounding and, at times, beggars belief.

For instance, one of the constant lines throughout the book is how frequently Harry keeps trying to reach out to Charles and William to have “conversations.” In Scobie’s world, Harry is completely absolved of anything he may or may not have done to upset Charles and anger William, that the lack of relationship between Charles/William and Harry is completely on Charles and William because Harry is always communicating, always reaching out, always wants to talk, always available for a call. Scobie makes it clear that Harry (and Meghan) expect apologies and accountability. But where is Harry and Meghan taking accountability and making apologies for what they did? There’s a fundamental inability for any of them on “Team Sussex” to realize that if they truly desire a conversation and apologies, then they need to apologize first; doing so would make it clear to Charles and William that they’re serious about resolving these issues.

Except I think they know that. The way Scobie phrases some of this seems to hint that the Sussexes know being able to have this conversation means they need to take accountability for their own behavior/actions and apologize to Charles and William. But they won’t because they thrive on the attention and drama that making these demands every quarter brings them. It’s the only way they have been able to reliably and consistently stay in the news.

And one of the more infuriating comments Scobie makes is this one:

One is left to wonder if William of Anglesey or William the air ambulance pilot would have left his sibling out in the cold in the same way.

Why is the broken brotherhood all on William? Why is it exclusively related to William coming to terms with his status in the family? Why isn’t there equal accountability on Harry, who takes such pride and ownership in being a soldier, who’s talked about the guilt of having to leave my guys behind? If William of Anglesey or William the Air Ambulance Pilot wouldn’t leave Harry out in the cold, then Scobie needs to equally ask: Would Captain Harry Wales have abandoned his brother and left him behind?

Bias against William and Kate. We also knew that Endgame would be a smear job against William and Kate. Scobie doesn’t let us down. He delights in pointing out how awful William is to be thinking about a future without Charles (forgetting that Charles did the same thing to The Queen, and also when The Queen was much younger than Charles is now). He’s thrilled to paint William as a ruthless bully in the way he manages his staff and how his staff is equally ruthless in the way they engage/interact with other staffs, especially in communications and media relations.

What surprised me is that Scobie isn’t as venomous as he usually is in his coverage of her, which often is rooted in the relationship between Kate and Meghan. He does get his digs in, don’t get me wrong:

He calls her workshy and lazy without saying the words directly: “Where other senior royals are out and about several times a week…Kate has long maintained a smaller work schedule that helped her check off the required royal boxes while saving time for her roles as a mother and wife.”

He reinforces the “Carole is the master schemer” rumor: “Carole saw that the pretty and grounded Kate was ready to carry the family name further to the top…The Middleton strategy involved more than just aristocratic affectation–Carole calculatingly placed Kate right at the center of young Prince William’s world….Carole set things up, and Kate took it the rest of the way.”

He mentions the “plastic princess designed to breed” article.

He says that Kate’s Hold Still project was the same thing as Meghan’s Hubb Community cookbook. (On the surface they are similar, yes, but Meghan slapped her name on the cookbook and took credit for everything whereas Kate was involved with the Hold Still book from Day One with the initial contest and took credit only for the actual introduction she wrote, letting the community own the actual content.)

He brings up the unfriendliness with Meghan: “She spent more time talking about Meghan than talking to her…Kate has jokingly shivered when Meghan’s name has come up around her”.

And of course, it's not a smear job until the Rose rumors are addressed. Don't worry. They're here too.

There’s plenty more where this comes from, but Scobie’s overall portrayal of Kate is that he sees her as a victim to the palace machinery who survived on the basis of being willing to submit fully to the “palace personality makeover.” She has succeeded where Meghan, Diana, and Sarah failed because she was willing to be trained (why, Scobie claims, The Queen liked her) and she had William’s protection to keep the monarchy from corrupting her. It’s an interesting spin that I didn’t expect from Scobie, but he takes it too far with a metaphor that the Palace has stifled her individuality:

"Here's the thing about [the weeping blue cedar Kate planted at an event in 2019]: It's naturally slow-growing and requires adequate space for its sculptural branches and cascading needles. But if there is too much pruning, or the space around it is too restricted, the tree ends up taking on an odd shape and loses the character that made it so special in the first place."

Because in blaming it all on the Palace, Scobie conveniently leaves out any accountability for himself or the press in the way they treated, and have, at times, mocked Kate, such as:

Some journalists who have been approached by publishers to author biographies about the Princess of Wales have turned down the chance. 'I'd barely be able to do a chapter, let alone an entire book,' one joked to me. (Even so, a Kate book would sell like gangbusters. Missed opportunity if you ask me.)

and

[M]ainstream coverage of Kate in the British papers is overwhelmingly positive, often bordering on infantilizing the princess, with articles marveling at her ability to perform the simplest of tasks (think enthusiastic reporting about kicking a soccer ball or flipping a pancake or how amazing it is that she can assume a perfect 'princess pose' in photographs).

Scobie seems unable to realize that the reason Kate has retreated “further into” the palace machinery is because the press keeps pushing her into it. She has kept her individuality and her personality and her “Kate”-ness, but it’s reserved only for those close to her and only for the general public that genuinely cares for her. The “palace persona” that Scobie sees her in is the elevated version of herself she presents to the press. And why wouldn't she let them see who she really is? They mock her and belittle her any chance they get!

The hypocrisy, overall. It’s just exhausting. Scobie plays everyone against each other, sometimes even contradicting his own stories.

We can be ageist but not racist - discriminating against Lady Susan Hussey is okay because she’s eighty years old and that disqualifies her from public service.

It’s okay for Harry to complain but not William or Charles.

It’s okay for people to not know who the Earl and Countess of Wessex are but everyone in the whole damn world must know who Oprah is.

It’s okay for Charles to plan his future but not William.

It’s okay for Charles to own six properties but William can’t have three.

It’s okay for Harry to use the media to settle grievances, but not Charles.

It’s okay for Charles to show leadership, but not William.

It’s okay for the Dutch royals to let scholarly research on their role in the slave trade determine how, where, and when they apologize for their colonialism but the BRF needs to apologize and make reparations immediately.

It’s okay for Meghan to have help at home and prioritize family time, but not Kate.

It’s okay for Harry to cash in on Diana’s memory but not anyone else, and certainly not William.

It’s okay for the Queen to take lots of time off because she works a lot but not Kate, who doesn’t work because she has children. (Is raising children not work?)

It’s okay for the Queen to avoid talking to the media, but not Kate.

It’s okay for the Sussexes to have preferred reporters but not the Cambridges/Waleses.

It’s okay to tackle misinformation about Harry, not anyone else.

It’s okay for Charles to upstage the Queen/his parent but not for William to upstage the King/his parent.

It’s okay for Harry to blindside his family announcing things to the media first, but not anyone else.

Scobie and the Sussexes have no idea how actual business works.

So many times I thought “tell me you don’t know about the corporate world without telling me you don’t know about the corporate world.”

The biggest giveaway that they have no idea how businesses operate is this mutually-held idea that change must be immediate and must begin as soon as someone thinks of it. There’s no regard for policy, no regard for process, no regard for procedures, no regard for research, no regard for any kind of preparation to make it a lasting, effective success.

Here’s an example, from Scobie:

But it would be hasty to unreservedly believe that real change is on the horizon for the wider royal establishments just yet. In 2023, it was reported that 9.7 percent of employees in Buckingham Palace were from ethnic minority backgrounds (up from 9.6 percent the previous year) and Kensington Palace employed 16.3 percent (up from 13.6 percent). The numbers appear to be ticking up in the right direction, but a closer look at the senior staffers around royal family members reveal a predominantly white lineup (exclusively, in the case of communications team members and private secretaries at William and Kate's household). It depressingly shows that the majority of non-white employees are at junior levels or working in more service industry-type positions.

This reads like Scobie’s expectation is for the Palace to fire their existing teams and replace them exclusively with diversity hires - but even that isn’t an effective solution because everyone would just scream “it doesn’t mean anything! It’s just for the PR!” The kind of institutional change Scobie is demanding actually takes a lot of time to implement, more than the few days he thinks it should. They have to wait for vacancies to open up or, if they’re going to create a new position, then it’s even more complicated:

Where in your budget is the money coming from to be able to pay the new person their salary and benefits? What project isn’t going to happen? What program is going to get canceled?

What exactly are they going to do? If you’re taking X duties from Jane, then what is Jane going to do now?

Where are they going to sit? What kind of technology do they need? What kind of resources, access, passwords, keys?

What’s the priority for this staffing need? What aren’t you going to do because you’re going to do this hire instead? What position isn’t going to get filled? What project isn’t going to get done?

Should the palace be hiring more diversely? Yes, absolutely. But it’s going to take time. It’s not going to change very much in one year. But what can change in one year is the recruitment strategy behind hiring, and that’s something that Scobie could actually get answers on. Are they still recruiting from the usual places or have they diversified and branched out? Are they doing blind hiring (where they remove all the personally identifying information like race, gender, name, education)? Are they recruiting from the Commonwealth realms? And this is what someone like Scobie should be asking the BRF to uphold their accountability.

Here’s another example:

Naturally, as paid members of the team, household staff for each of the three offices look out for the royals they represent. This is where 'briefings' get complicated, because while the aides are all working to prop up the Crown, they owe nothing to the family members they don't report to.

Um…does Scobie not know that he’s described every single organization and every single job? Everyone at the company works to support the company but you only owe results to the people you report to. Does he not see this at his own magazines or has he freelanced for so long he doesn’t remember what a “real” job is like?

Family businesses. Harry, Meghan, and Scobie cannot see the firm as a business. They look at and perceive everything through the lens of ‘family.’ This is, probably, the biggest “lightbulb” moment I had in reading Endgame. Harry and Meghan don’t understand, or they don’t care to understand, that there’s a family side to the monarchy and that there’s a business side to the monarchy. Everything they have done, they’ve done through the family side, hoping to leverage their personal relationships for change and action, when it was really a matter for the business side.

And all of their problems with William, with the courtiers, with how things are done, is because they viewed the monarchy as “family first, family always” when everyone else understood, fundamentally, that there’s a time for family and a time for business. And what’s interesting is that William and Kate - forasmuch as they prioritize their own family (scaled back diaries and long breaks overlapping with the kids’ school holidays), they also prioritize the monarchy and the business side of it. They show up when it matters: they do the ceremonies, they do the walkabouts, they do the small talk, they promote the work and the people and the culture of Britain.

Here are some quotes from Scobie illustrating how he, and the Sussexes, think “family only”:

Over time, William increasingly complained about Meghan to aides and family members. He didn't like how opinionated she was, how she spoke to his staff, and how much of her Markle family dramas were in the press. 'William shifted away from acting like a brother and became more like someone only focused [on the Crown]," a source close to the Sussexes said.

and

Charles vanished into the sacred Crown's engulfing orbit, leaving William to face the royal family's new chapter and the institution's increasing demands without his brother close by, the one person in the world who can empathize with all that's in store for him.

and

During the days ahead, Harry and Meghan kept a low profile, praying the press wouldn't turn their attention to them but remain rightfully focused on the loss of a beloved monarch. 'There was an incredible sense of sadness,' said a family source. 'For them, the Queen was one of their last strong links to the family. She always made them feel welcome. Without her...it will never be the same.

And this is in addition to Harry expecting to keep the perks of monarchy as “just” a family member that I mentioned in the “bombshell” section. He really thought he could have his life, “career,” and family fully subsidized by the business profit because he’s the CEO’s son/grandson. He’s so gobsmacked in July 2020 to realize that not everyone sees the monarchy as “family first, family always” that it literally breaks him. All of his lawsuits and all of his fighting since then has been trying to force the BRF to remodel themselves into his vision of “family first, family always” so he can get his perks back without having to work another day in his life.

An important conversation on race gets lost.

I know that race and race relations can be painful to talk about, but this is incredibly important. I don’t want to wade in too deep into it because these are conversations that aren’t easy to have through screens.

The monarchy, the institution, needs to change to be more conscientious of the power dynamics at play between an aristocratic white family who made their money on the backs of labor, land, and servants and a fast-changing world demanding more and more accountability. Charles's endorsement of the research project that the University of Manchester and the Historical Royal Palaces is a good start, as Scobie also recognizes, but there needs to be more and they can't just wipe their hands off when the report gets published saying "We did our piece. What's next?" There needs to be more and I hope there is more.

Scobie makes a lot of good, important points in his discussion (like it's not enough for the BRF to remove offensive pieces of art or contextualize their collections and they can't hold these discussions behind closed doors and that the public/the Commonwealth realms deserve to have a say in what happens next). But he also makes a few points that seem to indicate he doesn’t fully understand just how complicated race relations are, particularly when it comes to their intersection with politics. Scobie seems to think that the royal family, including the monarch (The Queen at the time), should disregard the “don’t get involved in politics” principle on a case-by-case basis to be able to speak out and support communities suffering injustice and inequality. It’s a fine line to tow; at what point is something “worthy” enough of the royal family to speak out? And how is something judged “worthier” than another to warrant royal intervention? And why has the press nominated themselves to judge that line, instead of, you know, the actual public the monarchy serves?

Probably the most disappointing thing about this section is how misplaced it feels in comparison to the overall book and message. 90% of the book is about media relations; Scobie's relationships with communications staffers, the relationship the palace has with the media, the dynamics at play between aides, principals, and the media. And then there’s a chapter on race. It's as misfitting as the chapter on Andrew (which largely just serves only to let Scobie remind everyone of the Epstein affiliations because Charles seems to be sweeping it under the rug). And that is horrific for Scobie to do; the palace's inability, or unwillingness, to recognize their role in a near-global racial disparity should not, cannot, and must not be equivalent to Andrew's scandals.

Purely from an editorial standpoint, this chapter would have been much stronger, much more compelling, and probably more thought-provoking if it was a standalone essay or part of a larger work that specifically examined racial and ethnic diversity in modern institutions of power or modern monarchies. I think Scobie shoots himself in the foot a little if his goal is to have a conversation and introduce reform by burying it in a book about media and communications.

I do hope Scobie considers writing more on this. In fact, I think if he did do a larger and more critical piece about diversity, he might be able to earn back some of the professional credit he’s lost by becoming so closely affiliated with the Sussexes.

Rage against the machine and the media

(It kind of goes off the rails here. Apologies in advance.)

Royal rota system. So there are two rota/pool systems. One is for broadcast/television reporters. One is for the newspaper/print reporters. “Royal rota” as it’s used in the royal-watching community popularly refers to the newspaper pool.

The rota is a system where members take turns reporting back to the larger group all the information (and gossip - Scobie makes it very clear that the royal reporters absolutely engage in gossip as much as we do) from royal engagements where open coverage isn’t possible or when a larger group isn’t necessary (i.e., “boring”). The smaller rota pool is one print reporter, one television camera/broadcaster, a couple of photographers, and someone from the Press Association. This smaller group travels “inside” with the royal while everyone else waits outside in a designated press pen for arrivals and departures.

There are 10 print publications that participate in the rota. Only established British national papers are allowed. There have been occasional exceptions for the London Evening Standard and Hello. No Commonwealth publications, no foreign publications (albeit one exception), and no digital publications/media sites are permitted to join.

The exception to the “no foreign publications” rule is US media. Americans are not officially part of the rota but in about 2010ish, the rota invited two US-based reporters (Scobie and one other person) to unofficially join the rota on a honorary basis. They were given access to the pool reporting notes and could join the rota’s press pen at engagements, which had priority access. This changed in 2017 with Meghan’s arrival, because with Meghan came more US media. The new American reporters complained to the rota’s oversight officials on grounds of fairness (i.e., Scobie and the other guy were getting more information and more access than all the other Americans) and the decision was made to take them off the rota.

And just who made that decision? Who’s in charge of the rota? Drumroll please…

The Daily Mail. Rebecca English, specifically.

But how it comes across in the book is that Scobie believes, bitterly and scornfully, that he was demoted from the rota because of his closeness to the Sussexes, and specifically Meghan. It really isn’t looking good for his denial that he treats Meghan “objectively.” He says that English told him he was pulled from the rota because he had become, largely, an American television news reporter and in classic Sussex whataboutism, Scobie says she “conveniently ignor[ed] my role as royal editor for Harper’s Bazaar.” Well, Scobie, you seem to be conveniently ignoring that Harper’s Bazaar is an American publication which further disqualifies you. That’s quite the entitlement.

The rota is overseen by the News Media Association. They appoint press “captains” - there’s two, one for the everyday and one for overseas tours - who manage assignments, the rotation, and ensures that everyone is getting the reports. Rebecca English has been the captain for thirteen years, which Scobie sees as a “monopoly.” Valentine Low, of The Times, is the overseas tour captain.

And that, to me, sheds a little bit more light on Harry’s vendetta against The Daily Mail. He hates that they “control” the rota and how firmly enmeshed the rota (i.e. The Daily Mail, in Harry’s mind) is with Palace operations. Harry says in Spare (which Scobie helpfully reproduces): “I'd had it with the royal rota, both the individuals and the system, which was more outdated than the horse and cart...It discouraged fair competition, engendered cronyism, and encouraged a small mob of hacks to feel entitled.”

Scobie feels the same way, and while he’s a bit more polite about it, he is equally as bitter:

Restricted access for Commonwealth outlets, digital news organizations, or US publications (the latter being relevant to a newly installed American duchess in the House of Windsor) didn't make much sense to man of us. With the support of two senior Palace aides, I wrote a letter to relevant senior individuals at Buckingham palace about why it was important to have an additional position in the rota--one that could at least be shared by the aforementioned groups. Harry, I was told, was also keen to back the effort. But it quickly hit a dead end. Rather than decide themselves, palace aides called in [Rebecca] English and The Times' royal correspondent Valentine Low, the rota's overseas tour captain (who was admittedly far less bothered about petty politics and mostly attempted to be fair in this less-involved role), for a meeting. English told them that letting 'others' in would be unacceptable. 'To be honest the rota is just a headache none of us want to deal with. It's easier to just leave it as it is,' a senior courtier said with a shrug over coffee with me. Yet another case of institutional fear and blinkered acceptance of the status quo when it comes to the media.

Scobie’s entire focus is on restoring his access to the rota. It’s not unlike Harry’s entire focus of media reform being on positive press coverage.

Speaking of Harry, Scobie immediately drops another revelation, one that directly played into Megxit:

Harry and Meghan, who were having their own conversations about the same issue, were then told that if they wanted to break away from the rota system and give other journalists access to their work, they would have to foot the bill for their own engagements. The list for their reasons to leave was getting longer by the month.

Concern about cronyism, outdated tools because ‘status quo’, and a refusal to modernize are legitimate complaints, absolutely. It would be far more beneficial if the rota system was overhauled completely to reflect today’s diverse media environment. (Not to mention, adding some spots for Commonwealth and realm publications could very well have an impact on the kind of coverage being reported back home.) But once again, Harry’s entitlement leaps off the page here.

He is such a penny-pincher that he couldn’t put up his own money to institute the kind of change he wanted to see. It wasn’t his responsibility, you see. His job is to make demands, but it’s up to everyone else around him to do the actual work, to pay for his ideas, to implement the change he desires. And circling back to the “Harry has no idea how a business works” theme from earlier, this betrays what Harry thinks “business” or “work” is. Harry thinks “work” is just showing up at the appointed time, reading the provided script, sharing a genius idea or two, shaking hands, and returns in 3 months expecting to see 10 years of progress on his genius idea so he can take all the credit. Harry absolutely is not capable of comprehending exactly how much happens behind the scenes to make his idea reality. It’s no wonder why Invictus Games is sinking like the Titanic. It’s no wonder why Archewell has plateaued. No one is interested in buffing up Harry’s ego anymore. No one is interested in implementing his ideas because he refuses to help or contribute.

But you know who does? William. William has an idea or William wants to see a change, William puts his head down and does the work to recruit the people, give direction, and find the funding. When the press start spreading lies or misinformation, William doesn't just sit there and complain at people to protect him. He uses his own resources to fix the problem, which Scobie (and Harry) perceive as the problem: William as heir has more power than Harry does to protect his wife. That's not what's happening. What's happening is that William doesn't take 'no' for an answer and he works the business till he gets what he wants. Harry gets told 'no' and he tries to manipulate the family to get what he wants...but the family can't do anything.

At the end of the day, it has nothing to do with power, or money, or status, or resources, and what William has that Harry doesn't. It’s that the Cambridges/Waleses are willing and able to do the work themselves. They put their money where their mouth is while Harry and Meghan prefer to buy knockoff athletic competitions and ice cream trucks that they can slap their name on and reap glory.

And Harry is so short-sighted. There would have been absolutely zero harm in abandoning the royal rota for one week or one month, paying out of pocket for press coverage with the “specialist media”, “grassroots media organizations and young, emerging journalists” and seeing what happened? If the experiment failed, then that gives him legitimate grounds to complain that the rota blacklisted him and more people would be sympathetic to the cause. But if the experiment was a success? Oh, man, it would’ve been the modern equivalent to Lord Altrincham’s recommendations to The Queen and Harry could have coasted on that for the rest of his life. Well, woulda, coulda, shoulda. Now William will be the one to reform the press when the time comes, all because Harry freaked out at “do it yourself.”

(Which is pretty ironic, if you ask me. He and Meghan are so desperate for this ‘changemaker’ label yet when they were presented with the opportunity to do just that–albeit at their own expense–they bailed. How dare you -- spend my money on other people?! Meghan couldn’t have clutched Diana’s pearls any tighter.)

Palace relationships. I’ve said it in a few other places here, but Scobie’s book is largely about the relationships between the palaces and the media. There’s nothing really new here and it’s mostly an opportunity for Scobie to brag about how close he is to certain people and how much access he has for his reporting.

Scobie absolutely hates the team at Kensington Palace and the deeper into the book you read, the more it becomes apparent that he isn’t targeting William and Kate as much as he’s targeting the communications team that works for them. Christian Jones and Jason Knauf, to be more specific. Scobie doesn’t like how readily they appeared to do William’s bidding, how fiercely the palace protected them when Harry (and Scobie, remember, he likes to put himself in the middle of everything) called it out, and how freely they seemed to work the press for amiable coverage of William and Kate:

My proof of Kensington Palace's schemes at work wasn't just in the newspaper coverage. I also had close working relationships with Buckingham Palace aides and people on Harry and Meghan's team. Back in 2019, one of the Sussexes' main communication aides felt strongly that William's staff, led by press secretary Christian Jones, crossed a line with the mental health stories. One of the couple's team called me the moment the 'William's concerns for Harry' front pages dropped. 'It's pretty disgusting that they would pull out the mental health card for this...None of them care for his health,' the aide said. As Harry later shared, 'They were happy to lie to protect my brother. They were never willing to tell the truth to protect us.' This wasn't Christian Jones's first rodeo, and he was just one of many at Kensington Palace who engaged in these tactics. William's private secretary Simon Case and communications secretary-turned-senior-advisor Jason Knauf also shared details with preferred reporters to quell rumors about the broken relationship between the Cambridges and the Sussexes. When William and Kate went to see Harry and Meghan after the birth of Archie, Jones made calls to a Mirror reporter and me to share an exclusive--the couple had just minutes ago stopped by for a special visit. 'It's a great story that shows that the the relationship isn't as bad as everyone makes out,' he said. 'It was really sweet.' What he failed to mention, as I later found out from Sussex sources, was that the couple's lukewarm drive-by lasted less than twenty minutes.

(Also, in what universe do the parents of a newborn baby want visitors and guests to stay for hours on end? Twenty minutes to check in on the new parents, deliver some food or a gift, and give the baby a cuddle sounds like an appropriate amount of time for visitors to be there.)

Scobie further goes on to describe how he thinks it’s hypocritical of William to be so manipulative and treacherous in how he uses the media to improve his reputation, particularly at Harry’s expense, because this is exactly what Charles and Camilla did to him and he had hated it. Scobie’s overall message seems to be that the more power William gets, the less “William” he is and the more “Palace” he becomes (similar to the argument he makes of Kate), and the more “Palace” he becomes, the more ruthless his communications team gets.

I mean, Scobie even goes so far as to say that William has gone so far into the Palace machinery that he's abandoned and discredited his mother in accordance with the preferred script:

The differences in the brothers' statements are stark. Both expressed understandable outrage over Bashir's duplicity and the BBC's moral and professional failures. But while Harry stopped to acknowledge and honor Diana's strengths, despite the whole faisco, William reinforced the counternarrative that his mother was paranoid at the time. While there is no duobt that William's rebuke came from a place of love, sources sexplained he was also keen to toe the company line without any concessions to what his mother said during the interview itself. To write his statement, William turned to a number of aides within the royal household, including former private secretary Simon Case, who had left a month earlier for his new role as cabinet secretary for then prime minister Boris Johnson. He embraced the institution's version that, because Diana was duped, the interview was null and void as a result--even if wha she said was completely in line with what she had previously expressed in Morton's book. By disparaging Bashir's trick and by extension the entire interview, William ended up discrediting a large part of his mother's own story. To make his points, he did not remind the public that his mother was candid and truthful, despite Bashir's dirty work, but, instead, maintaned the royal version that she was emotionally fragile and thus easily manipulated, and therefore her claims are not to be trusted.

Or maybe, Scobie, this is William’s own personal experience and recollection of his own mother. It’s well known that William had a very different relationship with Diana than Harry did, such that he already understood at the tender age of fourteen, just how complicated her life was and how complex a person was. And, t was recently revealed that William did actual work to understand who his mother actually was as a person, warts and all. He spoke with his family and with her friends and came to know Diana The Person, whereas Harry has only entrenched himself in his twelve-year-old “My mummy is better than yours” fantasy.

Both versions of Diana – William’s reality that she was a complicated and complex person and Harry’s reality that she was a beloved idol – can be true. But to dismiss William’s truth as “Palace bullshit” because it doesn’t match the popular narrative as told by Harry is, frankly, poppycock.

Welp, that was a huge train derailment. Getting back to the point: Scobie doesn’t like Jones because of Jones’s relationship with Wootton and his readiness to speak William’s truth at Harry’s expense. (Which is also hypocritical because Scobie spends all of Endgame speaking Harry’s truth at William’s expense.) And Scobie thinks it is unethical for Jones to be openly friendly with Wootton.

But here’s the catch. When he was being interviewed for the job in 2019, Jones disclosed his friendship and working relationship to both Simon Case and William. Yet William still hired him anyway. And with that little nugget, it becomes very clear very quickly what one of Harry’s issues is: he’s butthurt he didn’t get to know of the pre-existing relationship between Jones and Wootton and wasn’t asked to weigh in on whether he should be hired.

Now, for Knauf. Well, I’ll let Scobie tell you himself how much he hates him.

Knauf continued to work in his role as chief executive of William and Kate's foundation for a few more months before stepping down to join the board of the foundation for William's Earthshot Prize. As a loyal aide, he stuck by William through it all, from helping brief the press long after his communications role ended, leading the bullying allegations against Meghan, and joining forces with the Mail in court. Unsurprisingly, a year later, King Charles included him on his list of those to receive the honorable title of lieutenant of the Royal Victorian Order for his 'personal service to the monarchy.' Notably, this high honor is chosen by the royal family and not the government, and it was his pal the Prince of Wales who performed the investiture on May 10, 2023, at Windsor Castle. Knauf--a man who went above and beyond to protect the royal family's relationship with a British tabloid--emerged from this fiasco as a titled hero, the personification of duty above all. His dangerous dalliance with the media in the courtroom is all part of a job description you won't find on his LinkedIn profile and a soon-to-be forgotten footnote in a celebrated career.

Scobie’s angry that Knauf waded in on Meghan’s copyright lawsuit with the Daily Mail. After all, he didn’t have to come forward and there was no official request for his evidence or any palace evidence in her lawsuit. But he did, because “it was [William’s] opportunity to watch the institution strike back after Harry and Meghan went so public with private details about the Firm.”

So everything goes back to the all-powerful William and his newfound power to use the palace’s relationship with friendly press to suppress, control, and humiliate others.

Paradigm Shift. After the discussion on the royal rota, probably the most fascinating part of Scobie’s criticism of the media is something he glosses over: the paradigm shift as a result of the information revolution that changed palace strategies with public relations and communications. In the span of about 50 years, the BRF went from one centralized Palace staff to three companies of Palace staff. They went from one single royal brand using ten newspapers to nine competing royal brands using national newspapers, foreign publications, digital media, and special interest groups and two ghosts (Diana and The Queen) whose legacies shape the 21st century.

I don’t know about you, but I’d rather read that book than 300+ pages of background for Harry’s lawsuits.

Rehabilitating Harry. Scobie reveals the plan for how to rehabilitate Harry if/when the time comes: it's Operation PB, Mark Bolland's creation to rehabilitate Camilla for the public to (eventually) accept her as Charles's Queen.

A parting gift for making it all the way through: my very favorite quote.

Just five years ago, the thought of the Windsors becoming equal citizens without privileged status seemed unreal to most, but now that future doesn't seem as far-fetched. Harry and Meghan have already fled to real life, and, by the looks of it, they're not hurting for either money or status.

You sure about that, Scobie? You sure that Harry and Meghan aren’t hurting of money or status? Harry just flew 20 hours round-trip for a 12-minute meeting with his father to make sure his inheritance was still solid after offending everyone and burning all the bridges.

#brf #endgame #omid scobie

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