#it's not by him I think the illustrator is a woman doctor even but his association does have a drawing of a black woman bit by a mosquito

[envolvenuances]

mentioned Ibe in the previous post so in case anyone doesn't know him he is a doctor who makes medical illustrations showing black people.

and my personal favourite:

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 5 EPISODE 03  || FREE WILL ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The sound came again from the back of the house, somewhat louder; a noise midway between a squeal and a growl.[...] His eyebrows also rose in surprise, and I leaned over his arm to see.

A woman peered out from between two hillocks of goods, looking round suspiciously, like a rat peering out of a garbage dump. She was not particularly ratlike in appearance, being wavy-haired and quite stout, but she blinked at us in the calculating way of vermin, reckoning the threat. “Go away,” she said, evidently concluding that we were not the vanguard of an invading army. “Good morning to ye, ma’am,” Jamie began, “I am James Fraser, of—” “I don’t care who you are,” she replied. “Go away.” “Indeed I will not,” he said firmly. “I must speak with the man o’ the house.” An extraordinary expression crossed her plump face; concern, calculation, and what might have been amusement.

“Must you?” she said. She had a slight lisp; it came out as mutht you? “And who says that you must?” Jamie’s ears were beginning to redden slightly, but he answered calmly enough. “The Governor, madam. I am Colonel James Fraser,” he said, with emphasis, “charged with the raising of militia. All able-bodied men between the ages of sixteen and sixty are called to muster. Will ye fetch Mr. Beardsley, please?” “Mili-ish-ia, is it?” she said, handling the word with care. “Why, who will you be fighting, then?” “With luck, no one. But the call to muster is sent out; I must answer, and so must all able-bodied men within the Treaty Line.” Jamie’s hand tightened on the crosspiece of the inner frame and rattled it experimentally. It was made of flimsy pine sticks, the wood shrunken and badly weathered; he could plainly rip it out of the wall and step through the opening, if he chose to do so. He met her eyes straight on, and smiled pleasantly. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, thinking. “Able-bodied men,” she said at last. “Hmp. Well, we’ve none of those. The bond lad’s run off again, but even if he were here, he’s not able; deaf as that doorpotht, and quite as dumb.” She nodded toward the door in illustration. “If you care to hunt him down, you’re welcome to keep him, though.” It didn’t look as though there would be any hue and cry after Keziah, then. I took a deep breath, in a sigh of relief, but let it out again, swiftly. Jamie wasn’t giving up easily. “Is Mr. Beardsley in the house?” he asked. “I wish to see him.” He gave an experimental tug on the frame, and the dry wood cracked with a sound like a pistol shot. “He’s thcarce fit for company,” she said, and the odd note was back in her voice; wary, but at the same time, filled with something like excitement. “Is he ill?” I asked, leaning over Jamie’s shoulder. “I might be able to help; I’m a doctor.” She shuffled forward a step or two, and peered at me, frowning under a heavy mass of wavy brown hair. She was younger than I’d thought; seen in better light, the heavy face showed no cobweb of age or slackening of flesh. “A doctor?” “My wife’s well-kent as a healer,” Jamie said. “The Indian folk call her White Raven.” “The conjure woman?” Her eyes flew wide in alarm, and she took a step back. Something struck me odd about the woman, and looking at her, I realized what it was. Despite the reek in the house, both the woman’s person and her dress were clean, and her hair was soft and fluffy—not at all the norm at this time of year, when people generally didn’t bathe for several months in the cold weather. “Who are you?” I asked bluntly. “Are you Mrs. Beardsley? Or perhaps Miss Beardsley?” No more than twenty-five, I thought, in spite of the bulk of her swaddled figure. Her shoulders swelled fatly under her shawl, and the width of her hips brushed the barrels she stood between. Evidently trade with the Cherokee was sufficiently profitable to keep Beardsley’s family in adequate food, if not his bond servants. I eyed her with some dislike, but she met my gaze coolly enough. “I am Mrs. Beardthley.”

~ The Fiery Cross

[senka-mesecine]

Can't stop thinking about being the nurse that tended Barnes after he got his face injury. How would he react to being taken care of? 😫 (And of course she would have a little crush on him, I mean com on, how can you not 😳 )

I know this might be impossible but can he be soft? 👀 or at least look at her softly? Once? Maybe? 😆

💟💟💟

The Bandaged Man From Ia Drang.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

@woman-with-no-name

-

-"Over a thousand stitches and a Cranioplasty."-

Doc explains in stride swapping through his result notes fresh from the lab.

-"Hard to believe that he still has a face left."-

-"Will he be alright, doctor?"-

You ask in a hopeful huff, bracing your pace. So much to learn, so little time.

-"Oh, he'll be alright. He'll live."-

The doctor shrugs matter-of-factly, keeping his thick rimmed, bespectacled stare glued to the documents he was diligently swapping through, speaking stoically, like this was merely a fact of life and around these parts, it was. Disfigurement. Bodily trauma. Amputation. The other week, a kid walked out of here with a glass eye. -"He'll have to live with it too."- He adds, looking at you briefly, like he was trying to illustrate what sort of patient profile you'll have to contend with. -"As for the psychological consequences ---"- He trails off, assessing his own words way before he ever uttered them, doing a sharp turn on the corridor and halting in front of his office. The phone was ringing out incessantly from somewhere down the lobby. The squeaking sound of wheels as new patients were being carted in by the minute overtaking the hallway. The VA facility was in chaos. -"Very changing. Highly questionable. For now anyway."- He finishes his train of thoughts, snapping his notebook shut. A likely case of PTSD with this patient, you think. That was the case with almost all of them. -"Administer painkillers, nurse. He might not want it, he might fight it, but do it anyway."- The orders were clear and you nod. While you weren't there for the operation yourself, they said that the guy had a plate installed as a replacement for a missing part of his skull; that they shipped him back here to base for recovery from Japan where they barely, for the lack of a better word, stitched him back together, previously having been shot at least seven times. Genuinely, it was shocking he survived transportation to anywhere altogether. -"Lorazepam if he gets volatile."- The doctor points a finger at you, wiggling it for emphasis. -"Does he get volatile?"- You ask carefully, putting your own bit of emphasis on the word does. While you were ready for anything the last thing you wanted was someone to deck you in the face while you're there attempting to change their sheets. -"Calm so far. Taking it like a champ. Not a peep out of ---"- Distracted, the doctor peeks back into his notes again only for his face to snap back up, towards you. -"Barnes, Robert."- He states quickly and curtly, his hand on the doorknob. The phone has stopped ringing; someone somewhere has answered it.

-"Never seen anything quite like it."-

You here the doctor murmur as he opened the door to his office, crossing the threshold, seating himself at his desk, immediately immersed in his work, talking more to himself than you at that point.

-"But unpredictable complications do happen. And once they do, he'll be fit for Section Eight."-

He adds, finally, mulling over paperwork and files, eyes glued to his desk.

A knot tangles in your stomach.

-

Man was pushing forty and a surplus from the Korean war.

A survivor from the battle at Ia Drang Valley.

His record was so impressive you find yourself reading through like it's a highly engaging novel, thinking it's a genuine shock this man was in one piece as it were. Shot several times. Damaged nerves. Probably Neural damage to boot. Fractured skull. Notwithstanding minor injures that would've been considered major and even life altering to everyone else, but beside such an onslaught on wounds, having torn ligaments, broken ribs or a broken nose almost seemed like a minor thing in comparison to everything else. He doesn't speak either; the Doctor made it clear he could. He didn't lose vital functions in that regard, Robert Barnes simply refused to, until a raggedy shout snaps you out of reveries and you jump to attention. First time you've heard his voice since he was admitted. Somehow, you know it's him. You've heard every patient's voice in this ward a hundred times over, but this one's different. This one's new. Has you running down the hallway, halting next to his bed out of bed, immediately fearing the worst; that his state has worsened and that he was going into shock. -"Medic!"- He's still yelling when you stop above his bed, trying to asses any signs of stress and trauma in his eyes visible through the slits of his bandages, finding him fully aware and cognizant. Awake and aware. You're taken aback. -"Get me a smoke."- He gives you an order and you're stunned for words. Five full months of being verbally nonresponsive and this is what you get out of him. Get me a frigging smoke. You momentarily aren't sure if you should be profoundly endeared, amused or annoyed. -"That isn't allowed in here. You know that."- You asses as calmly as possible, checking his vitals. Pulse fine. Heartbeat regular through the stethoscope. For all intents and purposes, he was good and not in shock, rambling. Fully lucid and cognizant. -"Get me a smoke, girl."- He tries again, this time harsher in intonation, his thick accent which you could immediately pinpoint as something Southern, something Louisiana, the Carolinas, Tennessee or Texas comes through loud and clear.

You relent.

You tended to keep a pack of Marlboros in your pocket, not for yourself, but for all the men here who needed the relief of tobacco but technically couldn't leave the ward to get some themselves. Sometimes it was chewing gums. Sometimes magazines. Sometimes cigarettes. You provided whatever you could off the record. Some of these men would go home without an arm or a leg. Least you could do is get them something to divert them from their suffering. Prevent them from falling into a state of desperation and depression. Suicidal tendencies.

-"Go on! Now light it."-

He shoots you another order once you press the cigarette between his lips, profoundly damaged by scars to the point you imagined just talking to you alone must've been a painful order. You fish the lighter out of your uniform's front pocket, lighting filter in his mouth held together by bandages, watching the tip engulf in a pillar of smoke. -"You reject every attempt to make you more comfortable, flat out refusing to do as much as talk and the first thing you ask for in months is a cigarette."- You quip, not unkindly, but more as a statement of the obvious. His eyes move to look at you and you take that as an omen signifying you needed to clarify yourself further and that you weren't reproaching or preaching morality to him. -"I think it's a good sign, actually. I'm glad for it."- You add, daring to chuckle. Something vaguely entertaining about the mummy smoking a Marlboro, wrapped from the top of his scalp nearly halfway down his chest.

-"And a mirror."-

He interjects, surprise you. Stark blue eyes give you a glare.

-"Excuse me?"-

You question.

Once he gives you further details, you decide to stand your ground.

-"I can't get you a mirror. Sorry."-

You explain, apologetically; last thing you needed was for him to smash it and use the shards to cut himself. Self-harm. Or worse. The Doc's words about Section Eight come to mind as a warning, looming over your head like a dark cloud. -"Not before your scheduled check up with the doctor. He'll remove your bandages himself. Give his assessment then."- You say, not liking his silence, feeling the need to say things and enlighten the situation to him purely break the tension. Truth of the matter was, the state of Barnes's face was grizzly and you didn't want you to see it before it was time for him to see it. You were already majorly breaching protocol and breaking authorization by supplying him with tobacco in the first place. -"Y'all little girls carry around those compact mirrors in your pockets. I know you do too. In fact, you have one on ya right now."- You remarks and your breath hitches in your throat. How did he know that? Sure, he could possibly tell by the dent in your uniform's pocket seamlessly reflecting a vaguely round shape on the surface to any outside observer, but that's way too big of a guess to be just a guess. You supposed these Marines had their ways, causing you to unwittingly hand him a tiny compact mirror that appeared so tiny and fragile in his otherwise scarred hands as he unhinged the lid. You freeze up, paralyzed when he starts fidgeting with his bandages, pulling them apart to check what's underneath; this has never happened to you in your medical history so far --- so being as stiff as a rock to the degree you couldn't even move to even consider giving him a tranquilizing shot. The layers of pure white gauze reveal a zig-zag pattern of scarring running from a nearly mangled left side and disappearing somewhere beneath the embrace of the bandages still left unmoved and unloosened. -"It doesn't look bad."- You manage, finding your own voice shaking as you observed, reaching for the mirror so he couldn't be inspired to be curious any more than he already was. Unbidden, Barnes's fingers coil around yours and he squeezes, hard. Hard enough to cause you gasp. Lorazepam if he gets volatile --- the doctor's words ring out in your mind like a bell.

-"S'that mean you'd want one yourself? Or your own pretty face?"-

He practically growls, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Shockingly blue.

You gulp nervously, feeling he deserved honesty. That he was too smart to be swayed by empty platitudes. Was easy to comfort him, you figured, and throw around sagely advice when you weren't the one with your physical description altered for life.

-"No, sir."-

You confess and only then does Barnes relent and let go of your hand.

Cigarette still lit in his mouth in a flurry of messy bandages hanging off his face.

-

He's done nothing in the months after that.

Nothing but look at himself in the mirror.

It's become a regular routine ever since the Doctor officially removed his bandages and the layers of gauze protecting Barnes's skin became thinner and thinner with each passing week; he's been through a Psychological evaluation that stated this was a coping mechanism. That Barnes forced himself to, as he called it, accept the reality of things. That he wasn't going to run from what he looked like now. That he's going to face it head on and get used to it like someone gets used to a new skin. You don't know why on earth you memorized the notes of someone's psych-check, but you supposed you did, finding something oddly admirable in that. Most patients here tended to loose their minds over far smaller injures and here Barnes was, ever the stoic. Even the pain-killers. He tended to reject them whenever he could even though you could tell he was in unbelievable pain, having a bullet practically removed from his cheek and his skull. How he endured you couldn't comprehend. -"You know ---"- You address him on one occasion, feeling you had to, a twinge of regret haunting you for being a little too bluntly honest last you told him that if you had a choice in the matter you wouldn't want you have a scar like his. He was far too mentally unbalanced then to hear those words and you've made a bad call. -"This might sound weird, Mr. Barnes, but it doesn't look as terrible as you think, considering the circumstances and the severity of the injury."- You trail off and the speak up, careful in your delivery. Now that you saw him whole, nose and eyes and mouth and hair and cheekbones, you could assess shockingly enough that he was one of the rare few men with an injury like that who looked...well...handsome. You allow the complement you've been mulling over for weeks slip through the precipice of your mouth freely. Without censorship. -"God blessed you with such exemplary features it's hard to mar them."- You say, watching Barnes turn from the open infirmary window where he was having a smoke, looking at you head on. You figured you deliberately used so much purple prose because it felt like a shield against him; was hard to just say you're a handsome man. Handsomest I've ever seen. In spite of everything. -"You're speakin' in tongues like a preacher, girl. Give it to me straight an' simple and cut the bullshit."- In spite of the profanity and him cocking his head to the side tauntingly, you interacted with him frequently enough to know he was joking and teasing you for your delivery riddled with fancy epithets, like you were beating around the bush and avoid the point.

You're caught.

You decide to be upfront.

-"You're so good looking nothing can really ruin it."-

You say, openly. Was pure honesty too.

-"'S that part of your bed-side manner? Makin' rounds? Lyin' to these sorry cocksuckers 'round here to raise their morale?"-

He leans towards you like he was measuring you in ways you couldn't understand, testing if you if you'd pull back your statement or not.

-"No."-

You stand your ground, firmly. You'd almost dare say the scar, still red and angry around the edges managed to do the miraculous job of enhancing him, if that was at all possible.

-"I really mean it."-

You add.

-"You sayin' that 'bout me then? You find me easy on the eyes, ma'am?"-

Barnes's voice comes through as a deep rumble, his eyes never matching the severity of his tone yet something in his gaze --- there was undeniable softness there.

-"I do."-

You smile into your own chin, feeling the blood rushing into your cheeks.

[houseofbrat]

They should have never let Catherine take the blame for the photo altering. Even if she did alter it herself, it only adds to everyone’s suspicion. I think she felt the need to put a photo out quickly and it backfired. Why didn’t the RP cover for her photo blunder?

Right. Literally anything would’ve been better than her of all people personally taking the fall for this! William would’ve been better, a random, unnamed intern would’ve been better, one of the kids fucking with the computer lmao idk. Just such a strange strange tweet to send out.

Someone should call KP and tell them we’re on mega thread #4 over here and we can’t have our mods getting sick from the “stress and fallout”, so just trot her out for a second or an audio message or even just a true statement sans doctored photos. And if she’s too unwell for that well gee maybe a smidge of transparency would gain them public support back . Nobody wants her medical info , just them to stop acting shady and disrespectful.  She can have her privacy and also stop the shiftiness and theatrics.  Unlike Reddit mods, the BRF gets paid. 

I think Kate is refusing to play ball. It's entirely possible she's had setbacks in her recovery or drew a line in the sand and said "I'm out until x/y/z date, so quit pushing," but this is a woman who's been in the public eye for 20 years. She knows how the media vultures and gossip mill operate. The speculation has now turned dark. We're getting everything from she's passed and they're covering it up, to she was injured in an 'incident.' Papers are running articles on William's rage issues. Kate could easily clear this up but she's choosing not to. It leads me to believe she's pissed at her husband and is enjoying watching him squirm. 

Just found out my best friend has independently fallen down the rabbit hole—which just illustrates how out of control this has gotten.

we’re both thinking it’s just a series of ‘own goals’ but are seriously hoping Catherine makes an appearance at Easter. If not, I think KP will have to make yet another announcement, and given how inept they’ve been, it’ll probably just make things even worse.

I’m just hoping she’s chilling with her kiddos, and is either not paying attention to the whole debacle or is highly amused by the shenanigans.

I would think that she is making an appearance at Easter but then wonder why KP wanted it to be known that she isn’t confirmed the attend Trooping of the Colour? Which was stupid on their part tbh

Princess Diana’s former private secretary on the matter from a CNN interview.

He’s kinda repetitious but still clear enough. He comes out critical of William for poor communications. Williams’s office created the vacuum of information which fueled the interest which fueled the out sized interest and the conspiracy theories.)

They definitely mishandled this situation. Supposedly Prince William just got a new private secretary. Hopefully they get a proper PR team again soon. While I’m not on team conspiracy theories and believe what has happened is exactly what we heard (Catherine had major surgery and is now recovering), they were way in over their heads in how they handled this.

Crazily, her secretary, Patrick Jephson, was my neighbor 8 years ago, super nice and very genuine guy. I definitely put stock in his POV.

This has been extremely poorly managed by KP. They’ve done irreparable harm to their image. The pressure they are now under for the next step/stage/messaging is immense. This is a defining moment for the royal family. Charles is not well, to what extent is not known. Kate is MIA and now three very questionable ‘proof of life’ photos have been released. The state of Will and Kate’s marriage is under a serious spotlight. It’s an information black hole. VERY rocky overall.

Charles and Kate are unwell. That is all. Kate is obsessed with her looks and image and she doesn’t want to be pictured looking anything but perfect that’s all. She will be back once she is looking like her old self. I honestly don’t believe the marriage in trouble stuff. Kate will never leave William that too so close to becoming the Queen? No chance.

Is it possible, in light of everything that has occurred so far, that Charles is letting Will have enough rope so Charles can use this PR disaster as his excuse to shutdown Kensington Palace office so everyone falls under his office at BP? Get rid of Will's staff and his vanity projects so he has to get on with the everyday drudgery that being a royal entails? It's not just film premieres and photo ops. It's hands on in the community at events with little or no fanfare. Service rather than PR grandstanding.

With no more competing offices, Charles can have his people oversee everything. That at least might get some consistency.

I kind of doubt it. William has the duchy money now. He can spend it however he wants.

I believe the most significant thing is that - at the very beginning of this whole story- the surgery wasn’t planned at all… she had the agenda full of duties, included a trip to Italy…  The narrative from the Palace was inconsistent from the first day. 

Reposting, because I think my comment got removed.

My takeaway from all the conspiracy theories floating around out there is that no matter what the truth is, look at what the main themes have become. Essentially, there are several theories about Will's behaviour and being a less than stellar husband. Also, the feeling that KP cannot be trusted. No matter what the truth is, the fact that these are the themes that have emerged is interesting.

William has based his entire reputation on being a nice protective family man. He doesn’t really have any other accomplishments or character traits that the public cares about. He put all his eggs were in the good dad/husband basket. Somehow, the Harry & Meghan crisis only bolstered that image. Now Stephen Colbert is doing bits about his alleged affairs, and all the normies know about his anger issues. Now personally, I’m the kind of person who thinks where there’s smoke, there’s fire. But even if there aren’t any flames here, Kategate has done some massive damage to Will’s reputation.

KP PR team is giving toxic boymom energy. Anything to protect their precious son.

Is anybody else getting annoyed at all the normies acting like Rose is William’s Camilla? I mean, maybe she is. Maybe they never even slept together. We don’t really know. But the assumption is getting on my nerves. Not every side chick is a Camilla!!

My mum calls my dads best friend (another straight male) his Camilla.

I was filling in my husband about this mess, and his comment was that he thinks maybe the PR team WANTS this drama unfolding because it keeps the royals in the news. Like essentially, "all press is good press." What does this community think? I was inclined to think that as the figurehead of a political state and a future king, Charles and William really can't afford this type of bad press, especially about DV. Obviously, the royal family do bring in money and tourism for the country, and part of that has always been an uneasy relationship with paparazzi and gossip rags, but given that QE II is gone and there are a lot of people who find them irrelevant and an unfair state subsidy, I think this would be a terrible PR move. Thoughts? Could their PR team be milking this?

Their PR team are likely pulling their hair out. "All press is good press" applies to celebrities who need to keep their names front and center to remain celebrities. The Palaces never want bad press. I think the issue is that William is incredibly stubborn and won't listen to their advice.

I've never been the type of girl to need closure when things come to an end, but if the season finale to this saga doesn’t answer every single question and include some bombshells I’d never even consider, I’m going to cry.

“She deserves her privacy, though!” Shut up, we’re all here for the same reason.

I just find it hilarious that the most interesting thing Kate has ever done in her life is disappear.

The whole ''she went shopping and we saw it, trust me bro'' thing is bad for them any way you look at it.

Either she wasn't really seen shopping and the story was completely fabricated with colaboration from the media, which would be pretty sinister and in line with everything else we've been getting lately, and at the least it would be a very North Korean-esque way of deceiving the public.

or

She actually did went shopping, was in ''public'' no matter how limited and controlled the public was, which means that she's physically capable + her face isn't bad or disfigured or whatever, as some people have suggested. Which portrays her as very irresponsible and weirdly uninterested in keeping up her image and popularity. Amidst all those very damaging rumors that could directly influence and traumatize even her children (forget about adults and public), she has time and will for shopping but not for a 10 second video, which is everything needed to dispell all the rumors once and for all?

All in all, terrible PR one way or another. The clusterfuck continues.

Do they actually think it’s a good look that she went shopping on St Paddy’s Day? She’s involved with the Irish guards and cancelled her appearance at their annual event… so she can’t work but she can pop out to the shops with Willy? Sure, Jan. Just fuck the Irish guards then right?! I mean, not that I remotely believe she went shopping. But another terrible PR bungle. These KP PR people are fucking idiots and I don’t understand why they still have jobs when they’re so clearly incompetent.

Even if she wasn't capable of attending a quick video message expressing her good wishes for the Irish guards etc etc would have worked wonders in terms of restoring good feeling towards them from the public and simultaneously would have quieted the conspiracy theorists. I don't buy she wasn't well enough to do a simple 1 minute video but was perfectly happy with a trip to the shops and watching sports with the kids where she would have been seen and possibly photographed. My personal view is that the trip to the shop didn't happen. There's no way that there's not a SINGLE snap taken on a mobile phone that's made it's way to social media.

I'm continually amazed at how badly the Waleses are botching all of this.

To be clear, I've been a royal watcher since they got engaged in 2010, and I'd definitely fall into more into the "fan" camp than not.

I've thought the conspiracy theories about all of this are nonsense. And even now after "Photogate", I STILL think they're nonsense and that what is happening is what they said - Catherine had serious surgery and needs time to recover.

But the artificially constructed Mother's Day photo is such a huge unforced error, made worse by Catherine then taking the fall for it.

Catherine's clearly not ready to show her actual face as it looks right now, and that's fine.

But then don't fake a picture! Post a quick video of William and the kids making breakfast in bed for Catherine for Mother's Day, or making cards or something. It'd still have the conspiracy theorists buzzing about why we're not seeing her, but it'd have been SO much better received by the general public than what they did.

She's absolutely entitled to her privacy, especially while she recovers. But the deal that the Royal Family has had with the press for decades now is that they get privacy most of the time in exchange for occasional, official, REAL pictures. It's clueless at best - and outright deceptive at worst - to do something like this and think no one will notice or care.

With the farmer’s market story, I’m even more convinced that Kate’s story is a red herring and there is something else happening they don’t want people to notice or know about.

This is still so odd. Either something is up (and I have no knowledge and make no inferences as to what or why) or a lot of people are profoundly bad at their jobs. Ok, the photoshop happens. Then they lie about it, even when they are trying to apologize for it. Why not put out a quick official and genuine photo of just her. If she isn't ready for camera's yet, put out a voice recorded statement saying, "I appreciate everyone's interest in my well being. Rest assured I am recovering well and I look forward to returning to my royal duties as soon as I am able". They could so easily kill all of this speculation and non-sense if things are as they say they are (she is taking car rides and shopping and up out and about). It would literally take 1 hour of her time at most, and instead KP's continued silence invites more speculation. You know what happens in physics why you make a vacuum? It gets filled. The same happens in the media/press. So again I say, either something is up (and I have no grounds with which to speculate what it might be) or this is the absolute worst PR advice and self-made crisis in recent memory.

Edit: Grammar

I joked about this in one of the earlier megathreads, but what if the *plot twist* in all of this is that Kate handles her own PR. I just remember when they got married how one of the little factoids that came out was that Kate did her own makeup for the wedding day. Like, royals! They're just like us!

Can someone answer why Royal Rota media are publishing these pics if there is a deal that they don't publish unauthorized photographs or was this a planned pap walk LOL? Is there a thread somewhere talking about this. I was listening to the Times (UK) Radio on YouTube today and the Assistant Editor for the paper (Kate Mansey) was unfairly criticizing listeners as strange people who are conspiracy theorists and says there isn't a pact or agreement that the family has with the media...yeah right LOL (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIKUvQB2Z_M). Have these people read about the Royal Rota and the unprecedented-in-the-modern-era pacts the royal family has made with the British media.

If the British media are posting it its because they got the ok to do so.

Their PR team needs to pick a lane. On one hand they're selling that Kate is healthy enough to be out and about twice in one weekend, walking around a farmer's market, watching her kids play sports, but on the other she's unwell to the point she had to fake a Mother's Day pic and pull out of an event in June? Which is it? Their messaging is all over the place. 

I hope that if we all take away one thing from this whole ordeal its that no matter how bad at your job you might think you are, you're still probably doing better than the KP PR team over the last couple of weeks so give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done and don't be so harsh on yourself.

what gets me and i know royal fans will call me a conspiracy theorist is that it's kinda obvious there's a story here. the impact or actual matter of it isn't what i'm questioning, but the motivation behind so many blunders. i am a writer/journalist and this entire story feels weirdly on edge of being something, anything.

like yes, let's presume kp was truthful from the beginning and she had abdominal surgery that took too long to recover from. great, but why throw her under the bus? or if all of this is a distraction, overplayed to the nines, what for? 

i am sure any tea is probably regular people tea to the max, like relationship dynamics, family stuff and whatnot. it's not like i believed she was killed and it was hidden, but usually when there's smoke there's fire and i'm curious about what fire, you know? 

i would love to be a fly on the wall and know what they disagree about, their relationship with staff and other royals. 

i find kate stylish and their wedding hype was charming, if a little gauche. i am against royals in general, not specifically them, but they could be great philanthropists if they wanted. 

the thing with Kate's personality (in public) is that it's nonexistent? i suppose that's the ideal, princess-like behavior that's expected from her. but i do wonder what happens behind the scenes with that. how curated it is x how many other blunders happened before.

The story seems to be that Will and Kate are going to find it much, much harder to be the center of the slimmed down monarchy than they realized.  Though if it turned out that they’d never really thought about how that was going to work on practice, I would believe you.  There aren’t as many working royals so the attention is on them, whether they want it to be or not.  The disappearing and the stonewalling isn’t super unusual for Will and Kate, though not previously to this extent, but we’ll see if they make any changes moving forward.  Judging from how this debacle has dragged on, I am guessing they won’t.

Well, I for one am very impressed by Kate's ability to emerge from her grueling 3 month surgical recovery looking like a radiant, bouncy 25 year old yoga instructor who doesn't have a care in the world.

[doctorstrangereview]

0066: Doctor Strange #171

Cover Date: August 1968 On-Sale Date: May 2, 1968

This issue we enjoy what is to be Dan Adkins final outing as Doc artist in residence. Next month the soon-to-be legendary Gene Colan will take over introducing a true bat-crap crazy surrealist style. Dan's final ride is wild, however. The story takes Doc to numerous mind-blowing scenes.

Doc is finally returning home after numerous adventures in Tibet, the Dark Dimension, Stonehenge, the Planets Perilous, wherever the heck Yandroth was and the dream dimension. While The Ancient One's pad is probably a nice place to stay, there's no place like home. Doc flies to his home carefully avoiding any onlookers. I'm guessing he hasn't learned those invisibility spells yet. Sadly Dan isn't any better than Marie Severin at depicting the exterior of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Wong answers the door to let his master in. Doc isn't actually rude to the faithful retainer, but he isn't exactly nice either. Turns out he's got other things on his mind. Yup, The Ancient One gave Doc a secret little spell to read which may help him locate Clea. No wonder he's in such a hurry.

Mr. Adkins uses this as an excuse to draw another full page, real estate chewing panel. This one has more plot advancement than usual and he even gets to include a sinister robe-wearing dude.

While this event isn't directly tied into a near-future story arc, said arc will involve Satannish. Coincidence? I think not. He bids the sinister robe-wearing dude to show him where Clea is, which he does. Then he asks to send him to her and he's like "Not happening, dude! You're on your own now."

Doc reveals that The Ancient One told him that he needed to rescue Clea with a woman with whom he's had a previous mystic rapport. Yeah, that's what they called it in those days. Conveniently this means we get to drag Victoria Bentley back into the plot. Poor Vicky hasn't been seen since the last issue of Strange Tales. It turns out he must have dropped her back at her swanky English castle on the way home. Doc sends a mystic summons to Ms. Bentley interrupting a sexy party she happens to be throwing. After oodles of trauma inducing events, she gets right back into the swing of things. What a resilient woman she is! (For now.)

After receiving the Aquaman-like summons, Vicky excuses herself (somewhat rudely) to another room to be alone. A portal appears. She and her delightful mini-dress jump on through without hesitation.

Vicky arrives at the Sanctum where Doc immediately apologizes for ruining her sexy party and going into an overlong and poetic explanation of the danger he's about to put her in. Then he explains about Clea which Adkins draws in detail. Oddly enough, rather than swiping Ms. Severin's original drawings he has actually redrawn them in tribute.

All things considered, it wouldn't have been unreasonable to use Ms. Severin's art. I applaud Mr. Adkins for his effort in illustrating this tribute. Vicky is secretly jealous of Clea, but the hots she's got for Doc know no bounds and she accepts the mission without hesitation. For the second time in a few minutes, Vicky steps through a mysterious portal floating in the air. She and Doc are in a truly bizarre place.

A sphere approaches the sphere. Doc warns that it's evil. Vicky doesn't take the master magician who just transported her to this place seriously and gets absorbed into it. Doc has no choice to follow and inside the sphere is yet another world. Of course, Adkins give us a wild two page spread of this. I think this may be Mr. Adkins most famous image.

Odd things happen. He thinks about using his amulet and suddenly he is surrounded by eyes. Next, he's blinded by shafts of light. He casts a giant shield of darkness to protect him and flies around some more. He eventually finds his way to Vicky, or so he thinks. Vicky is floating on a platform in space when Doc says they must go on. Suddenly, Vicki is like "Nah. I'm a bit too frightened. Just leave me here and pick me up on the way back once you've rescued Clea."

Doc's like "Uh, okay." He casts a shield around her while thinking "This don't seem right." The woman who just jumped through two portals within a couple of minutes and approached a giant throbbing sphere against Doc's warning is suddenly afraid. Yeah, something's up.

Whatever he thinks, Doc moves on. His next challenge is a armored, fiery skeleton. As is usual for this series, the prototype Ghost Rider is clad in majority green. Doc and Skeletor continue their battle. Doc grows weaker with each spell he casts. The Green Death is about to administer the coup de grace when he suddenly shrinks out of existence. A voice booms out which Doc recognizes and our true villain is revealed at last. It's none other than Dormammu with Vicky and Clea his prisoners. Yup, the Vicky Doc left behind was a fake. Dormie is ready ready to crush Doc when up pops that annoying Next Issue blurb.

Dan goes out with a bang! Once we get past the Earthbound scenes everything goes crazy! Adkins goes all out giving us the most bizarre stuff yet. He gives us an absolutely amazing amount of detail in these panels and is definitely emitting a Ditko level of weird. Roy Thomas' story is a good first installment to this arc. He's been planting seeds to future stories here and there and there aren't any major plot holes to speak of. Roy may use too many explanation points even for this era, but even things like Vicky's sudden change in attitude have a purpose.

I think Roy wrote this as gift for Dan's last hurrah. He definitely went hog wild on the opportunity Roy gave him. He didn't let us down. It's a very good issue!

[lafcadiosadventures]

Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book Two, Chapter XXV:

Just like Merteuil and Valmont conspiring against the couple of innocents they want to seduce, Pompadour and Villepastour meet up to discuss Patrick’s (and by extension Deborah’s) fates

L. Cateret's 1915 Illustration for Les liaisons dangereuses

Pompadour summons Villepastour to “reprimand” him. He declares to be more than happy to receive her sweet punishment. But Pompadour has to immediately cool him off, stressing that, hard to believe as he finds it, she is not into him. (Villepastour is excellent at pr since she thinks she is the exception to confirm the rule)(Pompom is emphatic. She stresses that if it depended on her exclusively, the marques would die in complete abstinence)(she teases since she recieves him -like she does Patrick- during her petit-lever, and while aristocrats recieved many people during their levers and it was meaningless, merely a protocolar thing, I get a sense of her toying with him, showing what he can never have) Since she has mentioned Newton as an example of a celibate man, he claims to not be an expert on the matter, deliberately missing the point she was driving to, to complain about how annoying it is that women now think they can read Newton through what he defines as Voltaire's summaries of his works for the benefit of the ladies. Pompadour seems upset. we get the sense that they’re old “friends” and that they usually tease each other like that. They jokingly hurt eachother, but deep inside they’re both bothered by it.

Borel lets us reconstruct via their dialogue that Pompadour has summoned him via a stern letter, warning him about not harming Patrick. Still, he jokingly (or at least Pompadour ignores him as if it were a joke) asks her for a lettre de cachet. Pomps asks about Patrick, praising him at every opportunity. Villepastour turns her praise into insults (alla Beausteant and Rastignac talking of Delphine at the Opera in Père Goriot) Pompadour realizes he has something against Patrick: “A woman”, replies Villepastour. More 18th c court witticisms ensue, they both insult the one the other is attracted by. There’s -again, ugh- a good line by Villepastour about chastity…. he says he understands the word little, but even so he still understands it more than the virtue that it’s attributed to it. (The french nobles are still the religious and moralistic skeptics)

“Chaste!… Do you understand that word marquis?” “My faith! not very well; however more than virtue which we assign its meaning to.”

(this and all citations translated by @sainteverge )

And now we hop into a Diderotian philosophical dialogue: (nice shakespearean linguistic nihilism too)

“Marquis, believe me, this virtue is but a word.” “Then, madame, if this word designates a virtue which itself is but a word, my poor reason is starting to lose ground; mercy, it’s too much metaphysics!” 

It reminds me -perhaps because I tead it last week-of a moment in the Suite de l’Entretien (the sequel to D’Alembert’s Dream) You all know I love Diderot but this philosophical dialogue/private RPF of his friends comes across as sexist in a very basic way too. maybe he’s being true to who the people depicted were like, I don’t know, but it’s still moderately annoying… He has the woman (mme de l’Epinasse) start a philosophical argument with a man (doctor Bordeu) but as soon as he brings up matters she perceives as pertaining to The Sublime(TM), she claims to be exhausted by the discussion, so the doctor scolds her for tiring so fast of “being a man” and backpedaling to being a woman…. (Diderot is ofc not always sexist which is why i enjoy a lot of his work and life choices, etc) -_- Borel, refreshingly has the man instead of the woman reject the philosophical depth of the conversation to drive back to the point of it.

Anyways, Mme P. marks her territory, Patrick is hers (her protégé) and Villepastour must not harm him. But, he explains, he has to expel him, it’s the law, he killed his wife and therefore has no honour-not so much because he has killed a woman, but because he was found guilty of it. That is Villepastour’s chief concern, we suspect-(the man gets yet another cleverly written line):

“Yes, killed; but kind of how we kill in comedies; since she is the one I am dying for.”

There can be no doubts right now that the Marquis is sure Deborah is in fact who she claims to be. (but ofc this doesn’t matter, since Deborah was alive and in fact present during the trial at Tralee, and nobody payed heed to her testimony, that Patrick hadn’t attempted to murder her after robbing her) Even the performance of Honour Villepastour so adores could be served by his helping Patrick get his sentence pardoned. But of course he wants him out of his way. The law like Sade said is not equal for all, it is a tool of the rich to maintain their power (to prevent power from shifting hands like Vautrin said) here we have a pair of aristocrats completely willing to bend the law to to get what they want. Yes, a pair, because even if Pompadour laughs at the idea of musketeer’s honour (completely contradictory concepts according to her) and tells him that if he acts against Patrick Villepastour will answer with his head, she demands for him to break the law to preserve her favourite (we know Patrick is innocent, she knows it and Villepastour knows it. But this is not relevant, she’d still ask the same if he were guilty) who she says, she might deliver to Villepastour in a few days, or manage his destiny herself….

Patrick is in the hands of Fortune, not a Shakespearian Goddess, but a very tanglible, carnal pair of Aristocrats.

[clementine-kesh]

oh fuck yeah harry kim meta for the win!! if it's alright, can you elaborate on harry being 'as starfleet as they come'? (maybe even comparing him to *picard's* idea of what starfleet is and should be? i think they're interesting individuals to put side by side.) thanks!

hell yeah i’m always down to talk meta! by “as starfleet as they come” i was mostly referring to him being the picture perfect model ensign type. you know, top of his class, did a ton of extracurriculars, someone who was happy and thriving within the system. a system i doubt he ever questioned pre-voyager, either. plus, he’s ambitious and has the skills to match. see: non sequitur, where in the alternate timeline he was less than a year out of the academy and already presenting the first update to starfleet’s shuttles in 50 years. it’s not a stretch to say he’d have worked his way up the ladder pretty quickly were he not trapped on voyager.

but of course starfleet is more than just academic performance or scientific knowledge. it’s about people, seeking out new life and learning from it, and harry’s a great example of someone who embodies that. he’s a character who doesn’t assume things about other people and does his best to meet them at their level. there are two scenes that illustrate this really well, the first is when he and tom are eating dinner and he wants to invite janeway to eat with them and tom thinks it’s a bad idea to which harry’s like well who else is she gonna eat with, and the second is when he expresses interest in seven and tom’s like ew wtf dude she’s a borg and harry retorts with well there’s a woman in there, too. in both cases you have someone making assumptions about someone else and harry pushing back on it by being like no they’re a person just like us and we should do our best to connect with them. see also warhead when harry’s like “we’re not transporting this mysterious ai device on board” and the doctor’s like “but it’s just like me 🥺” and that’s what convinces harry. harry might be an engineer by training but his real superpower lies in diplomacy.

contrast that with picard, who is also a very skilled diplomat, but the key difference is that picard is loyal to institutions and harry is loyal to people. harry’s out there pulling shit like staging a mutiny and violating the temporal prime directive just to save his friends. stuff that goes directly against every rule in starfleet’s book. picard could NEVER. he’s a needs of the many kinda guy whereas harry says fuck that everyone matters!! shit hits the fan and harry will always choose to help people over any perceived moral high ground or sense of duty. maybe if harry hadn’t been thrown into the psychological maelstrom of voyager he would’ve turned out more like picard but thank god he didn’t because let’s be real, he’s way more interesting of a character because he’s a little messed up and has some moral ambiguity to him.

i think picard’s vision of starfleet is very much one that exemplifies a lofty sense of enlightenment, of being the pinnacle of civilization. whereas harry’s is way more about actually helping people no matter who they are. see: picard’s reaction to members of the maquis vs. harry’s. picard gets all high and mighty and pissed about them betraying the federation while harry takes a step back and tries to find common ground. if picard were on voyager he probably would’ve been a lot more like lieutenant carey and bitched about the maquis instead of actually trying to work with. becoming best friends with one? again, picard could NEVER

[caffeineandsociety]

Sexism is genuinely fascinating in how uniquely reversible it is.

Yes, broadly speaking, under a patriarchal system, when all other things are equal, women get the shorter end of the stick. We know this. This shouldn't be controversial or disputable. A white man will be treated by society as Better than a white woman. A man of color will be treated as higher on the hierarchy than a woman of the same race and ethnicity. Between a man and a woman with the same disability, making the same complaints, the man is likely to be taken more seriously - partially because, thanks to "man up" standards, one might assume (correctly or otherwise) that he waited longer to complain, because that often IS the case, but mostly because sexism says that women just love to complain for no reason all the time.

But when all other things are NOT equal?

What if you have an abled woman and a disabled man? Well, then it's a complete toss-up as to which factor "wins" - maybe the misogyny wins, because, psh, come on, women are SUPPOSED to serve men, quit complaining and hop to it, he NEEDS you to completely give up your entire life to bring him things on demand, how ableist can you be to say that maybe he should have a support system that's more than just you if he needs more than one person can reasonably provide, or maybe even actually do the physical therapy his doctor recommended so he can get back to being able to do something for himself once in a while, as his condition SHOULD allow? Other times, the ableism will win out - and when it does, it has its own sexist bent to it. He needs to Man Up and stop whining all the time. He's failing the million dollars test because his lung disease turned rhinovirus or RSV into pneumonia? Oh, waaah, waaah, cry harder about your Man Cold. It often uses feminism as an excuse - no, he's not asking for his actual disability-related needs to be accommodated, he's just being an entitled dude who thinks women exist to bend over backwards for him, because that's ALL men do, right?

This is why we see so much bullshit infighting in queer spaces over Who Has It Worse based on gender, when ultimately, when you stop trying to play the oppression olympics, what we have here is an illustration of how thoroughly arbitrary it is. Gay men are treated as more of a threat, because a huge aspect of homophobia is straight men being afraid gay men will treat them the way they treat women - but lesbians are treated as thieves, yanking away something straight men are entitled to. Why does it matter which is "worse" when it gets both groups killed, with significant frequency? Queer spaces have a problem with treating women as a lesser "support class" to men, and it's worth addressing, but not at the cost of downplaying how queer masculinity and maleness is, in fact, treated as some kind of horrible threat, and that constitutes a major chunk of the grounds on which queer people are oppressed. Never mind when trans people come into the picture - society doesn't know what to do with us! Regardless of what direction we're transitioning in, society just treats us as whichever binary gender is more convenient to demonize us at any given moment! In fact, so do exclusionists within the community! And as it turns out - sometimes, it's more convenient to demonize us as men.

But the real proof of where all of this comes from, the most reliable place for the dynamic to be reversed, is when it can be invoked for racism. Show me a white woman butting heads with a man of color, and - while I must disclaim that this is not a 100% hard and fast rule, I might be surprised, because extrapolating society-wide dynamics to EVERY individual interaction is part of how you end up with terf logic - I will almost certainly expect her to pull something in line with a power structure that oppresses him on gendered lines. This is what Karenism was about, before the internet bastardized it into being just a generic name you call any woman who stands up for herself - a Karen is someone who will, simultaneously, pull a "don't you know who I am!?" and "how dare you, you horrible brute, trying to take advantage of a poor defenseless woman like this!?".

A Karen is the kind of person who will call the cops on a Black or brown man minding his own business and say he threatened her.

Note that yes, she will absolutely do this kind of thing to a Black or brown woman, but the dynamic will often be different. I do not mean to erase that. But for the purpose of this post - discussing specific dynamics that reverse the typical "men are higher on the ladder than women" rule - we're specifically examining what happens when, say, a white woman claims a Black man whistled or "leered" at her. What happens then? Maybe he gets shot by the cops. Maybe he gets lynched - sure, that happens less often than it used to now, but anything is only illegal if you get caught. Maybe his life just gets ruined by a whisper campaign. Maybe nothing happens to him, but her story is used to continue the idea that Black and brown men are "bad hombres" who need to be chased out of this country or at least heavily policed to keep them in line. Regardless, there is a very strongly gendered aspect to this - accusations of sexual violence are believed without a second thought when it's a white woman making them against a Black or brown man, and this has a massive body count. We know that false accusations of sexual assault are very few and far between compared to unreported sexual assaults - but we often fail to acknowledge just how many of those false accusations are made up for racist reasons.

Not only that, but I must also briefly call out that I've seen white girls on this very supposedly progressive website claiming that Asian men are "basically women", when they're not calling out all men of Japan for being violent repressive pedophilic perverts.

That's because ultimately, the patriarchal standards that we have are a tool of white supremacy. That's it. That's all there is to it. What they mean and who they apply to can be twisted around at a moment's notice to uphold some other aspect of the system. The "natural strength" that it superficially insists that men innately have can be twisted to become a threat, if it threatens the rest of the system. The supposed "inherent weakness" of women can be twisted around to become a cudgel - upholding the dominance of the Great Male Head of the Household is, under this system, nearly the only thing that wins out over "protecting white women".

It's all white supremacy all the way down.

[novaloo]

Inevitable - part seven - Disaster overture

I know you didn't read part six. Here it is.

Dr Sunshine tried his best to work as usual, but was not very successful. He couldn't concentrate at all, hands shaky, fingers kind of thick. The papers kept slipping away from his grip, and if not for Julie a few units of glassware would be lost. After dropping his notes for the nth time today, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

– FUCK IT! – he yelled in a fit of rage, the frustration in his tone and expression almost tangible. He then took a deep breath, trying to calm down at least a bit. – I-I'm sorry, I... need to clear my mind... – and with that said he stormed out of the lab, then the building.

Sunshine decided to ask Mr Capgras about it. He knew some very interesting trivia, so he may know something about this as well.

Hearing the shopkeeper's bell ring, the antique merchant perked up on his spot behind the desk. Seeing his old friend, his smile widened even more.

– Ah, greetings, Sunshine – Capgras asked. – Is there anything you need from this old man?

– Actually, yes – Dr Sunshine replied. There was the tiniest hint of panic in his voice. – You know a lot of random facts regarding various myths and legends, so I figured out you'd know something about this too...

– And what is "this"? – the merchant motioned for the scientist to grab a stool and sit down with him. He did so.

– So... there are... three women. And they have laced dresses, and appear out of nowhere...

– Hm... Oh, I think I know what you might mean! – Mr Capgras replied as he searched for something in a drawer.

– So what is it?

– They might be the daughters of disaster.

– But what the hell is up with them?

– They are supernatural beings, neither alive, nor dead – he explained as he took out some old illustrations. – There's three of them. Annata, the daughter of change... – he placed the first paper on the desk, on it a picture of the blue lady. – ...Dukkha, the daughter of fate... – on the second one was an illustration of the woman with a third eye tattooed on her forehead. – ...and Annica, the daughter of death – he finally placed the third one down, on it a picture of the black-eyed girl, holding an axe. – No one knows what their presence may mean.

That was it. These mysterious women that disturbed him so much, they were the daughters of disaster. No one may know what their presence might mean for sure, but he had a strong feeling that it's nothing good.

– I... I see... – Dr Sunshine mumbled out.

– I've told you all I know.

– I-I'll be going now... Goodbye, Mr Capgras... – the scientist attempted to sound calm as he walked towards the door, but his body language gave away the anxiety he was feeling.

– Goodbye, doctor.

With a grim attitude, Sunshine returned to the lab. Julie was waiting for him there. He sat down in his chair, gazing off into the void.

– Is everything okay, doctor? – Julie asked.

– Yes, Julie, I... I just need to think alone...

– ...Should I leave?

– If you'd be so nice...

– Should you need anything, I'll be in the lobby – she said and stopped in the doorway to look back at him with a worried expression, before leaving and closing the door.

He couldn't see her look, he didn't face away from the wall for even a second. Having to do this pained him so much, but it was for her own good. The problem is his alone. She doesn't deserve to deal with his burdens.

He had a lot to process, but making any sense of it all seemed almost impossible. For several hours he sat there, alone, in grave silence, thinking.

The sun began to set.

Even then everything seemed so twisted.

– What are you thinking about? All the changes that are about to happen, perhaps? – a familiar voice resounded, carrying that unforgettable tone of melancholy. Annata. When her words reached his ears, his eyes widened slightly in realization, as everything became clear.

He can't run from it forever.

This is his destiny.

This is inevitable.

He got up from his seat and turned around, facing all three daughters and just stared at them blankly for a while.

– ...Why? Why must fate be like this? – he finally asked.

– Because it's like this! – Dukkha snapped at him, losing all composture in a moment. – You needed way too much time to even acknowledge that fate exists, and yet you still doubt it! Isn't my existence enough?! No, for you all it's never enough! Even if I straight-up told you your destiny and what you would do, you wouldn't listen to me! No one ever listens to me! Screw divination, thankless hell of a job!

– There's only one thing everyone's fate has in common, and it is death! – Annica said as she leaned closer to him, her expression seemed to show even more craziness than usual. – Everyone is approaching the very same end, same goes for you, and Julie, and Capgras, and Cotard, and everyone else! Many are nearing this finale right now, and you might just be one of them!

As she listened to the other two daughters, Annata's expression of permanent worry seemed to deepen. They all took a step back, away from him. There was no point in rejecting it any longer. One must accept one's destiny.

The lab was filled with the quiet hum of some scientific machinery. In the center of the room was a man surrounded by three beings, one of them right by his side. This mad scientist was no other than Dr Sunshine. While he stood there, he moved along to the music inside his head and mused, his voice gentle and melodic, mixing with Annata's as one.

"What if the wind caught up with me?

Started to change when I did...

Would I blow out like a light?

Or like a kite, fly away?..."

Every move he made, the daughter of change repeated.

"What if the fear of darkness gave

Way to the fear of color?

Would you live in black and white?

Or rest your eyes through the day?..."

Fear slipped onto her face, as she moved to the side, unable to utter another word. Dr Sunshine gave up on the melodic tone and kept musing.

"And if dreams can come true

What does that say-hey about nightmares?!

I'll stay awake tonight..."

And he finally snapped back at Dukkha, his voice harsher and louder, expression almost mocking.

"Cry my name!

Remind my brain

Of my identity!

Well, I'm not gonna listen

I'm not my volition, I'm-

Shananananananana free will!

Would you blame me for riding this train

Right by my destiny?!

Ah, prove I can crack, ah

Loose from track, ah

Shananananananana free will!"

As he spoke the daughter of fate clenched her teeth. But then she chimed in, her tone more melodic in contrast to Sunshine's.

"Rolling my third eye into the back...

Of my head and squinting through the black!..."

And with a motion of the hand, the third eye on her forehead closed.

"Saw no center, saw not where it lead...

It's times like this that make me wish that

I wish that I were dead

I don't wish I were dead

But somebody's got to go!..."

Then Annica took the lead, a mad smile on her face, eyes wild.

"I wanna make my murder look like a suicide!

But they'll all know, they'll all know

They'll all know that the body's mine!

I wanna go anonymous to identify!

But they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know

They'll all know that the body's mine!"

Sunshine shook his head, trying to stay strong and stand with himself, but it was becoming harder. He continued, keeping his previous timbre.

"Divide by one and find I'm one less than the one I was

So how many people am I?

Now that I keep 'em in my

Shananananananana memory, still I"

As he turned to the mirror of the secondhand vanity, his tone became smoother for just one line, before returning to the previous.

"Check in the mirror to see how I look, I look

Different in different ways!

Ah, you do the math, ah

Who's looking back, ah

Shananananananana that's not me!"

He pointed accusingly to his own reflection, the three daughters of disaster doing the same. Then Dukkha carried on. With every word she spoke and heard, her smile was becoming wilder, the white of her dress filling with all colors in a very chaotic way.

"Carving my initials in the back...

Of my hand in case of losing track!...

I forgot, remember to forgive...

It's times like this that make me wish that

I wish that I could live

I don't wish I could live

But somebody's got to stay!..."

Annica took the lead again, but this time Dr Sunshine joined in, their voices uniting.

"I wanna make my murder look like a suicide!

But they'll all know, they'll all know

They'll all know that the body's mine!

I wanna go anonymous to identify!

But they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know...

All know it's mine!

Ahh!..."

The daughters moved around the lab, each in her own unique way. Seeing such chaos unfold, paired with everything that happened earlier, awakened something in him. Sunshine smiled to himself and returned to the previous, harsh yet melodic scream.

"And if dreams can come true

What does that say about nightmares?!

I'll stay awake toni-i-i-i

Ahh, uh, ahh, uh!

Ahh, uh, ahh, uh!

Ahh, uh, ahh, uh!

Ahh, uh, ahh, uh!

Ahh, uh, ahh, uh!

Ahh, uh, uh!"

And he joined voices with Annica again, as Dukkha and Annata mumbled in the background.

"I wanna make my murder look like a suicide!

Kill me...

Kill me...

But they'll all know, they'll all know

They'll all know that the body's mine!

Kill me...

Kill me...

I wanna go anonymous to identify!

Kill me...

Kill me...

But they'll all know, they'll all know, they'll all know,

They'll all know that the body's MINE!"

All four started screaming alternately, and nothing but a cacophony of desperation could be heard.

"AHH!"

"AHH!"

"AHH, AHH, AHH!"

"AHH!"

"AHH, AHH!"

"Ahhh﹏"

Dr Sunshine held his head in his hands, taking deep, a little erratic breaths. The daughters of disaster seem to have left.

But he wasn't fine anymore.

[mystery-star]

Whumpril 2023 - Day 29 | Punishment 

Pairing: Ben Wade x reader (gender neutral) 

Words: 565 

Warnings: injury, mentions of death 

A/N: Missed a day? Find all Whumpril entries on my Whumpril Masterlist. 

- 

If you were honest, you were almost bored by your father’s speeches by now. They always were about how great he, his plan and their loot was. But his men seemed to adore them or were too scared to pretend they didn’t like it as you could due to your special status. Today, however, you were listening because somehow he didn’t sound pleased and even worse, the person he was mad at was his second in command, Ben. The two of you were courting and of course your father knew and allowed it because he was very proud of his ‘protégé’.  

“What’s wrong?” you asked one of the men as you came closer but weren’t quite able to figure out why he was yelling at Ben about being a good-for-nothing and almost having ruined the heist. 

“Didn’t know?” 

“Know what?” 

“Wade’s let a hostage go. On purpose” 

“Oh” you just said. Well, if said hostage was a woman or a child you could understand him. He was strictly against the idea of hurting either if he could help it, quite unlike your father who killed everyone who got in his way. 

“Always told the boy his morale won’t do him any good. Now he’s got it” one of the men said, spitting to the ground as if to illustrate the words. You swallowed because you were scared what your father would do. It wasn’t rare that he killed someone who disobeyed an order or just got them into danger. Or at least left them for dead. Suddenly, he stopped talking and you couldn’t even wonder what he would do now because he took out his gun and shot your lover in the abdomen. Clutching the wound, Ben went down with a groan. 

“Ben” you shouted, pushing the men beside you out of the way and hurrying next to the man on the ground, gently cupping his face before one of your hands went to his stomach 

“Leave him, (Y/N). Let’s ride” your father decided 

“No” you said subconsciously moving closer to Ben “I won’t leave him here for dead. Not him” you protested. 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you father was fuming, obviously, and you only hoped that didn’t make it worse for Ben. “You’re not actually choosing him over us?” you didn’t reply and tried to get Ben lying down so you could press his jacket over the wound while trying to figure out what you could do. There was no point in trying to get him to a doctor or he might be arrested. If he even made it there in the first place. No, you had to take care of the wound yourself. Your father said something but you didn’t hear it. You were just glad that the men mounted their horses and then actually left. 

“Why’d you do this?” Ben asked with a little grimace. 

“Because I can’t just leave you here. I love you, Ben, and you have no idea what you mean to me” his hand came to your face and he gave you a weak smile. 

“I think I do” 

“Come on, we have to get you fixed up before this gets worse. And then we’ll see what we do” because as you knew both your father and Ben it was unlikely that Ben would be going back to the gang. So the question was more whom you would follow. 

-

Taglist: @woman-with-no-name

Return to the Whumpril Masterlist

[sogno-ao3]

a list of named books in still waters

writing this because it is late and i am going crazy with work and wanted to write this as a diversion--won't include jane eyre and huckleberry finn for spoilery reasons!

--

The Jungle, Upton Sinclair

Ah, the first book we see in Still Waters and one that Mollie wonders if Tommy has read. It is evocative of Tommy's own dirty business; Sinclair writes about the violent and unsanitary meat-packing industry and how the main character is a decent man but his circumstances force him into less-than-moral doings...?

North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell and Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

Contributes to the feeling for Mollie's inexperience with romance--Pride and Prejudice is certainly one of the canonical romance greats, North and South in the third tier...?

The History of the Standard Oil Company, Ida Tarbell

Mostly just to be evocative of Tommy's penchant for empire building, and something that he'd probably read.

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

To be frank, nothing is really going on here... I suppose one can draw parallels between Heathcliff and Tommy, but that would make this romance rather monstrous...? Hate to disappoint, but revenge plots are not the focus of this story.

House of Mirth, Edith Wharton

Nothing of note, except period accuracy.

A Doctor's Education: a Guide to Medical Schools

A book that I made up.

A Doll's House, Henrik Ibsen

I admit, a little too on the nose, but too perfect to resist as a play and its thematic material--Tommy has trapped Mollie in a doll's house; further commentary on how Mollie is circumscribed by her position in society, and whether she can break out of it or not. Further hilarious references when she tries to escape the Shelby family meeting and abandons a child.

The Tempers, William Carlos Williams

Personally, I am a fan of WCW and just about died when I re-read the poem with Grace the cat--and so it was purrfect to include. Another thing I do love about WCW is that many poems can be interpreted from very surface-level to very abstract, from serious to playful--depends on your mood. This dichotomy I also try to illustrate between Tommy and Mollie.

Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad

Can you tell that I hate this book? I'm amazed that it always ends up on the top lists; writing is insipid even without the awful treatment of colonization. Again, a book that inspires differences of opinions between Tommy and Mollie.

Poems, Wilfred Owen

"Written by a war veteran" is how I imagined it was sold in stores, and Tommy just chose it, and then realized he doesn't want to relive any of that, and so neglects to read it, leaving a very chagrined Mollie to pick up the pieces.

The Education of Henry Adams, Henry Adams

Chosen for the themes of growth and change, but most importantly, it was period appropriate.

Agnes Grey, Anne Brontë

An echo to Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre. Also a bildungsroman for a young woman of a lower class.

Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Brontë

Nothing too important except that it's in the Brontë family.

Poems, Emily Brontë

I don't think Emily Brontë ever published a solo book of poetry (she did publish a book with her sisters), but nonetheless, someone aggregated them and when I visited home, I discovered I had a book of her lesser-known poems. I think I had bought this book when I was in my own e-girl era... uh.... anyway, many great poems to give life to Tommy's own e-boy era.

[wolint]

AGAINST THE ODD

AGAINST THE ODDS

Romans 4:18

 

It’s only fitting to speak about the odds stacked against us because of labels and other things. When we attempt tasks on our own, we often fall short, fail, err, or even worse, abandon them entirely? How many of us have embarked on endeavours only to leave them unfinished due to discouragement or fear?

Terah, the father of Abraham, was one such individual. In Genesis 11:31, instead of reaching Canaan, they settled in Haran.

What labels are you struggling against? Whether it's related to race, society, gender, age, or any other category, any label can work against you. Labels misrepresent who you are.

You are far more than what others perceive or recognize in you.

They are not acquainted with your entire self; however, the one who truly knows you affirms that you can accomplish all things through Him who gives you strength.

When people label you, they confine you; and when you accept and acknowledge that label, you limit God.

God promises to never leave you alone. He is present in everything for you, if only you allow Him.

What barriers do you have to overcome? Is it a habit you cannot break? An emotion that overwhelms you? An attitude that distances you from others? A heart filled with doubt and fear.

Whatever it may be, it is under God's dominion. David understood such challenges and confidently proclaimed that with God's assistance, he could defy the odds as stated in Psalm 18:24-30. And So Can You!

Against All Odds! We have all come against some odds in life.

Have you ever experienced the odds against you? It’s not easy when the odds are against you in any field of endeavour.

It’s not easy to succeed when the odds are against us, when we must overcome obstacles, leap over high walls, and swim against the tide. What do you do when the odds are against you?

God has a plan and purpose for everyone declares Jeremiah 29:11, and the enemy would do anything to mess those plans up and throw curves that would stack against us, but we must keep moving by the power and strength of the Holy Ghost to overcome those odds according to Philippians 4:13.

Like Joseph, for whom God had a plan and a purpose. The odds were stacked against him from the get-go, yet he persevered.

Luke 8:43-48 illustrates how long the odds can be against us.  This woman suffered from bleeding for twelve years and, despite spending all she had on doctors, she never gave in to the odds. She had hope.

So many of us must have felt backed up against the wall at some point with no way out but it’s in such situations, that God asks us to not just trust Him but allow Him to lead us as stated in Proverbs 3:5-6. Although a situation like that is truly beyond what we can handle, but it’s never too big for God. In fact, if we could competently handle every odd stacked against us, then the credit would go to us and not to the Lord.  Impossible circumstances teach us an important lesson: to depend on Him and not on ourselves.

We see this clearly with Gideon in Judges 6:14-16, and 7. Gideon was a reluctant warrior who felt inadequate for God’s call: But in obedience, he had rallied 32,000 men to fight against the enemy. However, the Lord reduced the army down to just three hundred men. Humanly speaking, it would be an impossibility to defeat the enemy. But that was precisely God’s point: He alone would achieve the victory and receive the glory when the odds are against us.

We must adopt a new mindset; if we think "I can't," then, we won't. If we think "I can," then we will.

We must allow God to guide us according to Psalm 48:14, when the odds arise, so we can come out strong.

God’s plan and purpose overcome all odds when He puts His plan into action.

PRAYER: Dear Lord, help me to trust and lean on you in all situations and to never allow the odds against me to prevail in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT. PRAYER MIN.

[xtruss]

An Illustration Shows Donald Trump, Mitch McConnell, Nancy Pelosi and Joe Biden Racing with the Aid of Walkers. Art By Barry Blitt

Barry Blitt’s “The Race For Office”! The Artist Discusses Hernias, Walkers, and the Joys of Old Age.

— By Françoise Mouly | September 25, 2023

Is the U.S.—long thought to be the land of new beginnings—in danger of becoming a sclerotic gerontocracy? “In a declining society, the images of an aging leadership can come to embody a general sense of withering and decay,” David Remnick writes in the Comment for the October 2, 2023, issue. “A civic nightmare becomes the caricaturist’s dream.” For the issue’s cover, the cartoonist Barry Blitt portrays the irony and absurdity of the advanced-age politicians currently vying for our top offices. Blitt, who, at sixty-five, is a qualified member of the past-their-prime cohort, also drew from his own experience. As a fellow old duffer (I’m nearly three years older than he is), I called him for a kvetch fest and was rewarded with talk of borrowed walkers, missing teeth, lost hair, and some new belly buttons.

So, what’s up, as the kids say? Is it the knee today or is it the digestion?

Right. I’m sure the readers would love to know what’s ailing me. The knees are both fine, and the digestion is top-notch, thanks for asking. But I think you’ll be thrilled to hear that I recently had five hernias taken care of in one day. When I went in, they thought it was going to be two or three, but afterward the doc couldn’t wait to tell me he found five of them. As I regained consciousness, he was excitedly showing me a diagram of what he’d done.

[Laughs.] That was a good day for hernias.

Well, yes, a good day for a hernia doctor to add to his war stories. It’s not like it used to be, where they’d have to cut you wide open. They do it laparoscopically—I think they go in through your belly button. In any case, now I’ve got some new, extra belly buttons. [Laughs.] Also, it was supposed to be an outpatient procedure, but they kept me overnight—I was a bit of a mess afterward. (Is this really going to be part of the interview? I’d rather talk about bitcoin.) But anyway, this was all a couple of months ago, I’m feeling much better now.

I’m so glad I asked. You wouldn’t have told me otherwise.

I was honestly telling everybody, because it seemed like some kind of record. But then I met someone a couple of weeks ago, a woman at a dinner party, who wasn’t impressed at all. She told me she’d once had seven done in one day! And she wasn’t even old, though it likely happened to her because she had delivered three children.

So not the cause for yours, obviously. What did you do to deserve so many hernias? Were you lifting art work?

No, not art work, but for a while, I was playing gigs in New York City and carrying my electric piano and an amp around. Like an idiot, I used to schlep them on and off of Metro-North trains and into taxis, because I was nervous about driving into town. So I’m sure that’s where I got a few of them.

I knew it had to be for the sake of art.

This wasn’t art, but, yes, it was for the sake of fun.

So other than hernias . . .

Right, what else? I’ve got a lot less hair than I had at the beginning of the pandemic. If you’re going to lose your hair, you want to do it gradually over time, so people see you every day and they get to take it in stride.

[Laughs.] But how would anyone know, since you’re always wearing a hat?

Beware of the times you can’t wear a hat—that’s my motto. But everything else is sort of all right. I mean, I’m missing some teeth, too. [Laughs.] I am missing five teeth. Or maybe it’s six. I’ll do a count after we talk. Only one is conspicuous, in the front. I’ve got to do something about that one.

Why are you losing so many teeth? You just wake up and they fall to the floor?

No, no. I don’t know if you’ve had any root canals, but root canals don’t last forever. Sometimes the shell of the root cracks and gets infected, and they have to pull the tooth. So I’ve had a bunch of those. I have “Montreal teeth.” That’s what they call it. We didn’t have fluoride in our water until much later than most places.

Wow!

Although, it doesn’t seem to be affecting any of my friends or my brother or anybody else I know from Montreal—I’ve just got terrible teeth.

[Laughs.] My dentist is nice and always tells me there’s also a genetic component.

Maybe, but my parents have way more teeth than I do. Actually, I remember being quite young and looking at the gaps between my great-grandfather’s teeth. And now I am my own great-grandfather in that way.

[Laughs.] Are there any other ways that you feel like you’re your own great-grandfather?

Well, my mother has a fancy walker, and I take it for a spin when I’m in Montreal. I have walked around the house with it, you know, preparing myself for the inevitable. It’s just a matter of time. But besides the teeth, the hair, the hernias, and probably a couple of other things, I’m surprisingly fine.

[arkiwii]

I don't really like answering to these posts because everyone can have their opinion, but I want to reply to some of the questioning and confusion here;

I think there's a misunderstanding about "Rhine Lab event" - this event is not only Rhine Lab, there's a reason why it's so huge and important. What Kristen did, it doesn't just affect Rhine Lab or Columbia. It affects Terra as a whole. That night, every Terran looked at the sky.

What makes Arknights and its world building beautiful, to me, is how everything goes together. They're not excluded stories, they're all cogwheels; you move one, the others move. The world lives, what happened to Sami could very well affect Sargon, and that's a huge work to create a world as such. On the surface, we can think each faction and country have their own lore without it affecting anything, but they are all related. It's something that is important to know to understand why this event had so much going on.

It wasn't Rhine Lab's story. It was Terra's story. The story of how a woman teared up the false sky for likely the first time.

The characters relationships are very well explored I believe. We could always say "these characters should interact more", and it will be true for any characters. But for the line of the event, each interaction was really well made, it concluded the story between Saria and Kristen, it concluded Rosmontis's rememberence of her past, it concluded the tension between Saria and Silence, it just basically turned a page for Rhine Lab, and started a new chapter, if not a book.

Silence is the main character, and I believe it was planned so since the very moment Rhine Lab was created, hence why her code in game is RL01, and the Rhine Lab's logo was originally an owl. As someone pointed in the notes; it's a story about the past, the present, and the future. Silence is the characterization of the future, she stepped forward, she dared, and she doesn't look back. While staying realistically human, while saying relatable, while being "just a simple researcher". Saria is the past, she is stuck on her relationship with Kristen, regrets of their time together. She hasn't changed in all those years.

This illustration is the future and the past meeting. Silence looks towards the light, Saria looks in the dark.

They are the main characters. And that's why they both became the new heads of Rhine Lab. It's a story about moving forward, about heading towards a future shaped by your goals and ideals, while acknowledging of the past, and regarding it. Rhine Lab shall never do the same mistakes and cause the same suffering as they did. It's a whole symbolic, a story about duality and trust.

And Ferdinand? His character became so much more interesting than in Dorothy's Vision, where he was just some egocentric guy wishing to take the head of the company for his own interests. Lone Trail made this character so much more than this, still not the most morally good, but one with goals and a point of view you can understand. Maybe it seemed like too much screentime for a character not a lot cares about, but I'm so, so glad they did so, because I started to actually appreciate him.

About the Doctor/Muelsyse... I've read stuff before Lone Trail where people spoke about how Muelsyse was one of those playersexual characters. So naturally I was scared and felt disappointed.

It wasn't the case. Not ONE a bit. I don't really know what makes anyone think there's something even a little bit romantic between these two - there's absolutely not. No, dancing isn't something only romantic partners can do, same as being comfortable with each other, going to shopping together or watching movies.

The relationship between these two characters was one of the most interesting to me. After the entire Preserver lore dump on the Doctor, where this one had to reflect on their own person, face that they don't know who they are, where is their place, with only "Rhodes Island" as their home and reason to go forward, having this Muelsyse and Doctor moment was a delight. Because then, both could bound around not knowing their place. About feeling lonely, set aside. Muelsyse found other elves, just like she dreamt, and yet she couldn't feel home. The Doctor found their kin, and likely replies to some of their questions about who they are, but they couldn't feel any connection neither.

And so, they can be alone together.

In conclusion - well, as one of the biggest Rhine Lab nerds and fans on this hellsite, I was not disappointed one a bit by Lone Trail. I loved each character, even the new ones, Jara appeared only for this event and yet her character was very interesting. I hope we'll get to see more of her, and of Nasti as well. Rosmontis, Ifrit, Muelsyse, Silence, Saria, Kristen, Tin man, Kal'tsit, Doctor, these characters became more than memorable to me thanks to this event.

So yeah, it's what I think of it. I may be bootlicking, I definitely am, but it was so much of the peak of writing to me, the characters and the symbolism were deep and explored, I can hardly think they can do better. The moment I started the first cutscene, I couldn't stop.

Idk about Lone Trail.

It's not generally bad, but for the big Rhine Labs event there sure was a lot of stuff that wasn't Rhine Labs (it could definitely do with a little less Preserver).

Like, I get that they're following up on some of the RL story bits that they've planted in other things, but they probably should have given more time to Kirsten and Saria and just generally explored the pre-established character relationships more.

Also, Silence and, even more so, Ferdinand are main characters for no reason. Why? Genuinely, what was the purpose of giving them that much screen time?

It ended up being an event about legacy and progress that just happens to feature RL, and that seems off to me.

Also, the Doctor and Muelsyse thing is entirely unnecessary, and I want everyone to give them shit for it when they open the event survey. We can't have them doing this again.

[modernwizard]

Why I love the Spymaster #101: He's the Mona Lisa!

Find my full series under the HELP I WUVS HIM tag.

#101: He's the Mona Lisa!

This is it, folks: my 100th entry in the list of reasons I love the Spymaster! [It's coming as #101 because I listed his hair as two separate reasons accidentally. Whoops!]

I talk about the Spymaster's use of classic paintings of modern Western art elsewhere in my list. #61: Playing even more with gender! notes that he substitutes himself in three paintings into the position of women. #79: The Scream! 💔 points out that his use of the painting illustrates his struggles with mental health. #100: His art collection! examines why he turns to famous paintings that are considered classics.

This mini essay looks specifically at why he puts himself in the place of the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci.

I can think of a few reasons:

The subject is considered to be a great beauty. We know that the Spymaster cares about his looks, being a confirmed fashionista [#68]. He also wishes for a constant audience to reassure him that he's fascinating and wonderful. By sticking himself in the place of a woman who has received compliments and attention for her beauty for centuries, he assumes those compliments and attention for himself.

The subject is mysterious. Recently it has been definitively identified as Lisa Gherardini, wife of Frederick del Giocondo, but, before then, speculation ran rampant about who the mystery woman was. The subject's expression, which gives rise to the term "Mona Lisa smile," meaning an unreadable smile, has also been a subject of debate. With his penchant for enigmas and disguises, the Spymaster probably likes taking the place of the subject and becoming an enduring conundrum too.

The subject is beloved, as is the painting. Presumably de Giocondo commissioned da Vinci to paint Gherardini as a way to demonstrate the esteem and affection he had for his wife. Furthermore, the painting itself is beloved, being arguably the most visited, most popular most parodied, and most well-known artwork worldwide. The Spymaster wishes he were that popular. Plus he wants to be beloved too [by the Doctor].

The painting endures. It has lasted for hundreds of years, despite wars and other political upheaval, theft, restoration, and attempted vandalism. You know -- kind of like the Spymaster.

The painting has been used as a canvas for gender-bending. [H/T @sclfmastery the art historian for bringing this to my attention!] In 1919 Dadaist Marcel Duchamp drew a mustache on a postcard of the painting and called the work L.H.O.O.Q., or She Has a Hot Ass in English. [If you read the letters aloud in French, it sounds the same as Elle a chaud au cul.] In 1954 Surrealist artist Salvador Dali painted Self Portrait as the Mona Lisa, blending his features -- particularly the prominent eyes, fanciful facial hair, and hands -- with those of the subject. [See black and white picture below.] By putting himself as Ra-Ra-Rasputin in the painting, the Spymaster joins a long tradition of shocking, absurdist stunts designed to command the public's the Doctor's attention.

@sclfmastery @natalunasans @whovianuncle @timeladyjamie @rowanthestrange

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 1: Who is She?

Chapter 2 Here/ Chapter 3 Here

I guess this is a Switch!Spencer (mainly Sub! Spencer)X reader fan fiction this is my first fan fiction I’ve written since middle school so bare with me and feel free to message me constructive criticism. This will probs be multiple chapters but I just couldn’t get this idea off of my mind so here we go! And yes this season 1/2 Spencer because he is just the cutest!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Plot: Doctor Spencer Reid has heard of little black books, but that pales in comparison to what he has just found in the BAU’s elevator. A sweetly scented notebook filled with salacious journal entries illustrating the writer's sexual fantasies. He doesn’t know what it is about this book but all he can think of is finding its owner.

TLDR: Spencer finds your kinky notebook and uses super sleuth skills to find you.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: Cumming in pants, Hinting at sex, exhibitionism, no panties, Language, General 18+, Hinting at future kinks

Word Count: 2,439 (gah damn)

𝒯𝒪 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝑀 𝐼𝒯 𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒞𝐸𝑅𝒩𝒮:

𝒟𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓀𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈. 𝐼𝒻 𝒾𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝒹, 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹.

As Spencer read these sentences, he paused. Not for the warning of so-called curses, there was no scientific evidence for such things and Spencer knew magic was just science with a trick of the eye, but for the vehement warning making him feel intruding on whoever had left their journal in the elevator.

It had caught his eye as he stepped into the elevator on his way out of the office. As someone who had lost plenty of books in his days roaming the halls of the BAU, he knew how frustrating it was to not know what happened at the end. As he picked it up, he noticed the cover. It was old, bound in aged cherry red leather, yet too small to be more than a pocketbook. He had found your message while searching for a name to return the book to, and simply reading the first page already felt prying.

Alas, one sentence enticed him “If it comes into the right hands, You can find me.” Where his hands the right ones to come into? The probability of that could be found easily by calculating how many people got on and off of this specific elevator that day, no, in the past hour, with the hustle and bustle of people leaving for the day. Spencer could and he would calculate it he wasn’t so distracted by the message and his voracity to solve this mystery.

Tentatively, he flipped the page, finding a handwritten table of contents. This book had obviously been very important to the reader if they had taken the time to write in page numbers, detailed headings, and chapters. The table was nearly full of chapter titles in scrawled cursive lettering. His eyes stopped on the first chapter title. “Male Needs” with shakey lettering. He could tell by your handwriting that you grew more confident in your journaling as the chapters progressed, the hesitations in your strokes growing few and far between.

As he flipped the page once more he had reached the next floor and a large group of people bustled into the elevator. Spencer shied away from them, not just because he had an aversion to contact with strangers and their germs, but because of the sentences, he had read underneath that first chapter “I do not need a man, a man needs me. Yet, when I am with a man, I have needs. Needs that most men can’t fulfill. I need a man that eats pussy like it’s the only way to quench his thirst-“ and with that Spencer slammed the book shut, earning some confused looks from the others on the elevator. He should have heeded the warning because now all he could think about was the fact that this was your nervous entry and as your confidence grew, it was bound to escalate from there. He wasn’t sure if it was his flustered mind or the heat growing deep from inside him that made him feel dirty; not because it scandalized him, but because these were someone’s fantasies and he had intruded in their secrets and soiled them with his mind.

Ding! He had reached the ground floor and that was when he decided to leave it alone. He couldn’t bring it to the lost and found as it would be more likely to end up in the wrong hands there and your secrets would be for someone else to find, not that he even knew who you were.

On his drive home, he tried to think of anything else besides the book. His lunch, Garcia’s new item she added to her collection, how to get back at Derek for putting salt in the sugar container, but his mind kept wandering. It didn’t help that the notebook sat tauntingly on top of his satchel as if saying “Open me, you know you want to. You want to know who I am. You can find me.” There was no way that it had been there for that long as the janitor was on duty today and he had been on the elevator two hours ago on his way to clean the top floor. Since Spencer had left a little later than most people that meant there were multiple elevators full of people who would have noticed. He knew it wasn’t so but part of him felt as if you had left it there specifically for him to find. Like it was made for him. He quickly shook off the thought and went back to who it could be. He wanted to return it without reading any more. You clearly would miss it but he couldn’t imagine you wanted others to know about what lay in those folded corners of your book and your mind.

As he walked up the steps of his complex, he clutched onto the notebook with all of his strength, he feared that he would look down and it would have disappeared, he wanted to keep your deepest secrets safe as if they were his own. He was only able to relinquish his grip when he shut and locked the door to his apartment. He set it on the table as he got prepared for the night. By now he had limited his pool to 54 women who were regularly in and out of the elevator at that time of day which was a cut down in comparison to the 860 roughly women in that building on any given day. But that number still wasn’t small enough. He had to minimize the sample size even further. That was the only reason he reopened to the table of contents, right? Not because of his own morbid curiosity and definitely not because of the heat burning in his stomach.

He looked down at the page numbers, still too nervous to look at the titles, and saw that each entry was a page long consisting of 23 entries and one with a title but no page numbers. Not chapters as he previously thought but entries giving lascivious details into what he had not yet mustered up the courage to read. He was still unable to look at the titles in fear of what he might find. If graphic depictions of female oral sex were displayed under “Male Needs”, what possibly could lie ahead.

For now, he studied the handwriting. Cursive, not often used by many younger women, was often associated with antiquities and traditional values but he noticed something off. There was a very specific curl to certain numbers. Every even number had a specific extra curl or flourish to it and the zeros had a line through it like a “do not enter” sign. This went directly against the hypothesis that you were an older woman that the cursive provided; as many older women who wrote in cursive stuck to the rules even when it came to numbers. She wasn’t old enough to even be Hotch’s age but she appreciated the charm of the past. 'Who is this girl?' Spencer wondered. He was able to narrow it down to about half of his previous lot, excluding the women on his team. He had seen them write enough to know their handwriting inside and out. And while Garcia’s had similar flourishes to yours, she never crossed her zeros.

Spencer knew that he would have to read at least the chapter titles to grasp a better understanding of your handwriting and who you could possibly and as his eyes scanned the page, for the first time in a while he was actually reading slowly; putting all of his focus into each word and what order they were in. Unfortunately, his focus was his downfall. His face became so hot that he felt as if you could see steam coming off of it.

Table of contents:

Male Needs

Praise

Degradation

Mommy

Daddy

Work

Exhibition

Choking

Collars

Breeding

And that was all he could take. Ha couldn’t look at the thirteen and a half more entries, even this much knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t have much experience with women and certainly not enough to understand what all of those words necessarily entailed but he knew that whatever it was keeping his internal fire roaring with heat.

While he hated snooping, he knew he would need more information. He chose the chapter that sounded the most mundane out of all of them, "Work." ‘What was more normal than work.’ he thought, but he was so sorely mistaken.

"Work:

"Before I move on to exhibitionism, I have to talk about work. Yes, I would love to have sex at work where I and my partner are one step away from getting caught, I haven’t done that yet. I want to tell you what I have done. Almost every day I go to work wondering if the others can tell that I’m not wearing underwear.”

His heat spread from his face down until it pooled in his loins and his cock became hard imagining this mystery girl walking the halls of the BAU with a breeze in her skirt, nearly exposing the secret that lied beneath. Had he sat next to you when you were partaking in this activity? What would he have done if your skirt bunched up your thigh as you sat, exposing the tan lines where your underwear should be. Would he be able to see you in your tight work pants with no pantie lines and be the only one who truly knows your secret?

“I kinda want to be caught someday by Him. I wonder what he would do. Would he tell me off for being unprofessional? Would he take me to that storage closet 3 doors past Garcia’s office, just far enough away that he could teach me a lesson for being naughty at work?”

He felt so dirty, inserting himself into the fantasies of a girl which he did not even know that he almost glanced across the use of Him, capital H.i.m. He wanted to indulge in his imagination that in some way or another that the “Him” in question was in fact the man reading this with trembling hands and an impossibly hard cock. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining situations in the storage closet that he regularly used as a reading nook when he needed time away from the others.

He rested his head on the pages of the book, hoping somehow that his dirty thoughts would be transplanted from his head and back into the pages so that he could stop thinking about you. His efforts were thwarted as this action meant that he could spoil himself in your scent that enveloped the book. As if you had wrapped it in the deepest most vulnerable part of you to hide it away from others. You smelled of bergamot, patchouli, and musk but deeper than that, you smelled like sweet, tart berries and honeysuckle in summer. There was something else that he couldn’t put his finger on at first but it was intoxicating all of his senses. It was saccharine, heat, and sex all combined in one. When it clicked, it no longer felt as if his head was pressed against a book but as if his he sat kneeling on the ground with his cheek resting in your inner thigh, your hot sex waiting for his indulgence, “like it's the only way to quench his thirst” echoed in his brain. The scent was your natural pheromones beckoning him closer with the promise of a treat.

And that was it. That was what sent him over the edge. The purest embodiment of your scent had him cumming, hot in his pants.

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You sat down at the edge of your bed after a long day at work; shucking off your work clothes to get as comfy as you could in your PJs as a way to unwind from the day. You went to grab your lip balm from your bag and noticed that the front pocket of your bag had been left open. You instantly panicked, searching everywhere for your little red book. The one that kept the key to your deepest secrets and darkest fantasies. You tore your bag apart, knowing that you had it at the end of your workday because you took it out of your desk drawer and tucked it back into its home in your bag. You cursed your carelessness for not double-checking that you zipped your bag before leaving. With your forgetfulness, you knew it would happen one day but you didn't realize it would be this soon.

There was an odd mix in your heart and your stomach. Part of you felt your heart drop through your ass thinking that it had ended up in the wrong hands, part of you had butterflies thinking about someone knowing the deepest parts of you, intimately in your own words. You had the assurance that your name was nowhere to be seen in the book but you also knew that you worked with people who analyzed people's dark desires for a living. While none of your fantasies involved murder, they were like precious gems that you kept locked away in your heart. You couldn't dare imagine what would happen if it came into His hands. While you were the youngest at the BAU, only by a few months and you weren't even part of the group because you were still tentative, you couldn't put your dirty thoughts into the innocent head of the pretty boy genius. It was almost more worrisome than if SSA Hotchner or Gideon found it and you were fired. The idea of tainting someone so pure...

You had to literally shake your head to clear your thoughts. Imagining His face tinged red in innocence reading through your lewd writing had your head in a tizzy. Imagining Doctor Spencer Reid sifting through the pages with lightning-fast fingers, stroking down the pages of smut as you had imagined him stroking down your thighs so many times before. You decided to bury your head in your pillow, hoping that would calm your mind enough to slip into slumber.

Unfortunately for you both, your efforts would be fruitless and you would both go to sleep unknowingly thinking of each other.

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Chapter 2 Here/ Chapter 3 here

And that's Chapter one. Hope y'all like it. LMK in my messages and all that <3 have a great week!