#milkmaid magazine

[guineverescastle]

[lol-im-done]

First Lady of Panem

Pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When your family arrived to the Capitol from District Ten to secure their place as one of the most prominent and wealthy families of Panem you could have never dreamed fate would lead you into the arms of Coriolanus Snow. Falling in love was easy, watching him become President and becoming First Lady of Panem at his side would test your limits. Panem's history would forever be changed by this union.

AO3 Link

Author's Note: TW & Tags will be updated as each chapter comes out, first chapter is just to set up the story & characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Sky Blue Eyes

Those bluebonnets how sweetly they grow

For all the wide prairies they're scattered like snow

They make all the meadows as blue as the skies

Reminding me of my darlings blue eyes

The cow-filled prairies shifted to mountains signaling the train's entrance into District Two as you hummed to the tune of an old song from before Panem’s creation. The sprawling grass sea of District Ten, of your home, disappeared in the distance as you made your way to the heart of Panem. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?”

Lifting your head from the rattling window you turned to see your mother looking at you with soft concern. 

“Sorry Mama, what were you asking?”

Her hand smoothed over your younger sister Mellona’s curls, making her nuzzle deeper into her side. “I was asking if you were hungry so I could order lunch.”

“That would be nice Mama. Thank you.” 

“Alright, call for Agnes if you need anything she’s in the next car,” your mother stands, lays a snoozing Mellona down, before making her way to the dining car. 

“Homesick already?” Victoriosa, the eldest, asks from the chaise never taking her eyes off the magazine in her hands. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“We always knew we’d have to move to the Capitol.”

“Why now? I thought at least another year or two,” you asked, sinking into the plush leather seat. Victoriosa pauses, looks up at you and for an instant you can see your father’s intense expression staring back at you. 

“Papa wants to finally establish himself as a prominent figure in the Capitol. He needs Capitol support if he is to fully absorb the rest of the ranches, you know that,” she states. “This is also our opportunity to reach our full potential, choose our own paths. Once you finish your career you can always return to Ten if you wish but that would be a waste,” she returns to flipping through her magazine.

“Silva, what do you think?” you turn to your only brother who is seated next to you. 

He gives a short shrug. “I don’t mind it much as long as I can continue my research,” Silva sighs from behind his thick textbook. 

Victoriosa tilts her lithe neck backwards, “Yawnnnnn.” A snort leaves your lips and you’re grateful your mother isn’t nearby to reprimand you for your ‘unladylike’ behavior. 

“Biodiversity is the pinnacle of our success as cattle breeders!” Silva scowls. 

“I thought you’d be missing a certain milkmaid Carpathia,” Victoriosa smirks and a wild blush spreads under Silva’s glasses.  

“Oh like you’ll be missing your ranch hand Bronco,” Silva snaps back.

“There’s always summertime. Plenty of time to catch up,” Victoriosa grins like the cat who got the cream. The three of you burst into a fit of giggles right as Mellona groggily rouses from her nap. 

“Are we there yet?” 

Another burst of laughter fills the private train car. 

It would only take a few more hours before you arrived at the Capitol train station, nightfall falling over the city. Unlike District Ten, not all the stars were visible, the Capitol’s bright lights polluting the sky. Peacekeepers were already stationed to help move all the luggage into the waiting line of cars. Driving through the streets towards your new home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the statues in the squares and the towering buildings. Most of all you were excited to finally see your father, it had been almost a month since you had seen him last. 

“Papa!” 

All of you crashed into Alicio Lupus’ awaiting arms, his rumbling chuckle bouncing off the high marble ceilings of the penthouse. Refugio joins in on the hug with teary eyes, reaching up to press a kiss on her beloved husband’s cheek.

“Welcome home my darlings,” he squeezes you all tighter. Any fear you held disappeared in an instant, as long as you had your family by your side, all would be well. 

The first few weeks in the Capitol had been a whirlwind- meeting other Capitol families for dinner, registration for coveted internships and school courses, and endless shopping trips to assure your home and wardrobes were up to Capitol standards. Refugio Lupus wanted only the best for her children, which included constantly coaching you all to leave behind the District Ten accent that made certain words in your vocabulary drawl. 

After dinner one day you thought you had finally caught a moment of peace before a knock at your door startled you from your book. Agnes, your family's nanny, rolled in a rack of dresses with Victoriosa in tow. Victoriosa was already dressed in a sleek blood red dress with a mink shawl wrapped around her shoulders. 

“What’s all this?”

“We’ve been invited to a soirée to commemorate the end of the 13th Hunger Games. Papa thinks it’s a good chance to introduce us to others in the Capitol’s high society,” Victoriosa swept her arm towards the rack of glittering and ruffled dresses. Nerves made your stomach churn, mouth turning downwards into a frown as you remembered people’s faces this past week when it was revealed you had recently arrived from District Ten. Most look startled before looking at you like you were some exotic bird at the zoo. 

“They’ll never accept us.”

A prideful look crossed her face, so similar to your father’s. No wonder your mother said they were cut from the same stone. “They will once we show them we are as refined as they are. As long as you lose that accent of yours you’ll blend in like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she grinned, canines glinting in the light of the chandelier. Rolling your eyes you step over to the rack, feeling the fabrics under your fingers. Stopping at a silver dress, the sequins twinkled like stars entrancing you. Agnes helped dress you before getting to work on sweeping your hair up into a fashionable updo. You waved away the highly pigmented makeup, not ready to delve into that side of Capitol fashion quite yet. 

“Remember you’re a Lupus. We’re wolves among sheep,” Victoriosa pinches your cheek. The usual calluses that adorned her hands were gone, chemical treatments making them a long forgotten memory. 

Wolves among sheep. 

Victoriosa’s words replay through your head like a mantra as you step into the grand ballroom behind her and your father. Thankfully your sister was a gifted extrovert, introducing you to the friends she had already made. Soon you found yourself surrounded by members of the new Gamemaker class, a glass of posca in your hand. It took some time but slowly your shoulders loosened and your smile widened, confidence making you stand a bit taller. 

Across the ballroom, Coriolanus Snow was repeating his own mantra to himself- Snow always lands on top. A reminder that showing up for another Capitol soirée wasn’t simply a waste of time but another way to show all these sycophants how high he had made it. Now heir to the Plinth fortune he was dressed impeccably. Tigris had helped style him, no more handmade shirts, and the final touch- Grandma’am’s rose pinned to his lapel. Like at most parties he was surrounded by his former classmates who were all desperate to remain in his inner circle- he was an esteemed Gamemaker after all. A glimmer in the distance caught his eye, distracting him from the meaningless chatter before him. He recognized the group as intern Gamemakers but not the young woman, fresh faced and glowing in the candlelight. 

“Who is that?” Coriolanus feigned nonchalance as he tilted his head towards her. 

Festus Creed followed his gaze, “Don’t you know?” 

“How could he know? The Lupus Family only recently decided to establish here in the Capitol,” Pup Harrington said in between bites of hors d'oeuvres. The name rang a bell, stories and information from his various connections coming to mind. 

“I believe that’s (Y/N) Lupus. I saw her the other day with her father, Alicio Lupus, at my mother’s bank” Livia Cardew said, inching closer to Coriolanus. “They practically own all the ranches in District Ten, Alicio Lupus’ brother is the Mayor of the District,” Livia whispered, lips coming close to his ear. Festus and Pup exchange an eye roll at her shamelessness and Coriolanus resisted the urge to shrug her off. Offending a Cardew would never bode well.  

“She’s district, probably going back and forth from Ten to the Capitol like one of her family’s pigs,” Livia giggled, but it sounded like grating metal in Coriolanus’ ears. 

“Don’t forget cows! Oh Panem, I dream about those steaks-,” Pup practically salivated. 

“Imagine living all your life in that District, like poor Sejanus,” Festus tutted. Coriolanus immediately bristled at the mention of Sejanus, his icy blue eyes darkening like an impending storm. Festus must have realized his mistake because his eyes widened, apology on the tip of his tongue before Coriolanus cut him off. 

“I should go make her acquaintance then,” he announces, ignoring Livia’s scowl. It was an opportune moment he thought as you now stood by the bar alone. Perhaps you would be desperate enough to try and get in his good graces, and offer to introduce him to your father. Coriolanus would be a fool not to recognize the Lupus family’s wealth and influence, they kept the Districts fed and the Capitol fat. Any potential relationship he could make was more support he could need when he would take a position in the Government. 

As you took another swig of posca, you thought you had managed to escape more social interactions for the night until a voice made you jump. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus Snow. Welcome to the Capitol.”

Turning around you looked up at the man’s captivating eyes, as blue as the sky back home. His pink lips curled slightly at the ends as if he was holding in a secret. Blonde hair pushed back in a neat fashion, accentuating his cheekbones. For a moment you were speechless. Remembering yourself, you gave him your name but you had a feeling he already knew it. 

“Pleasure to meet you Coriolanus Snow.”

His stomach swooped. Coriolanus swore he heard a familiar lilt in your voice, but it was not as strong as Lucy Gray’s and those in District Twelve. No, yours was smoother and made your pronunciation of his name sound like it was dipped in warm honey. 

“How are you finding the Capitol?”, he forces himself to ask, to ignore those dangerous thoughts. 

“It's something...definitely not like back home,” you look around at the extravagant decor. 

“Ah yes, District Ten. I’ve never made my way there but I’ve heard wonderful things,” the lie flows smoothly past his lips. “How grateful you must feel to finally be brought to us.” 

Coriolanus would never miss a chance at making anyone District born feel inferior, all the posca he had been drinking making him loose lipped tonight. Indignation made your hands tingle, but you took a deep breath and clenched the glass tighter in your hands to ground you. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t assigned there as a Peacekeeper. I suppose wherever the songbird called from you followed,” you replied, taking a demure sip from your glass, relishing in the way his jaw tensed. You knew who he was, his story with Lucy Gray Baird. Victoriosa had heard it all from a friend and had no qualms in passing the gossip down to you. If he was going to throw thinly veiled insults you’d have to show him you wouldn’t take them lying down. 

“There’s that famous Lupus bite I’ve heard about,” he grins, taking a step closer to you. The scent of roses fills your nose, the sudden proximity to him making a blush rise up your neck. His hand reached out, moving to push a piece of hair behind your ear but the moment was broken when Victoriosa called out for you, pointing to your father who was making his way out the doors. 

“If you’ll excuse me it’s time for me to get home. I’m sure our paths will cross again,” you murmured softly, dipping your head in farewell. Coriolanus stepped back with a slight bow, eyes never straying from your figure as you sauntered away. Oh yes, like two stars crossing in the night sky, you would meet again. Coriolanus would make sure of it. 

[coqxettee]

Coquette Spring

Romanticizing my Spring 🌸

Spring has been so peaceful so far. I spend my mornings reading, doing yoga, journaling in bed and eating a light breakfast whilst looking out my cottage window at the birds and wildlife that come into my garden ♡

Only wearing the sweetest of colors for my cotton candy aura, baby pinks and blue’s that radiate Spring time. Pink gingham, denim shorts, floral dresses, milkmaid dresses and jelly sandals with frilly socks to give into my inner child ♡

Wearing my baby pink, heart shaped sunglasses now the sun is making it’s way here ♡

Coating myself in sugary, vanilla, floral body sprays and perfumes for Spring. Marc Jacob’s Daisy & Miss Dior ♡

Watching cartoons or reading fairytales in the garden, and imagining what life would be like if I was whisked away into the fairy stories I read about ♡

Walking up to the local shop and listen to “Lana del rey” to stock up on lollipops and bubblegum, the perfect sweets for this time of year ♡

Picking out a cute outfit to go to the market. The markets are on every weekend and I love when the sun is shining and I can find a quiet spot under a tree at the market, to read or write in my diary ♡

Baking heart shaped cookies, or cakes with sugary-sweet icing for my family to enjoy, whilst listening to vintage music in the kitchen, and wearing a sweet little apron. All the pastel baking utensils too! Ahhhh! ♡

Collecting heart shaped plates, mugs and cups, pretty picture frames and vintage things to adorn my country kitchen with ♡

Hanging out my nightgowns and pretty Spring dresses in the garden to dry, makes my country cottage garden even more beautiful ♡

Eating strawberries and cream lollipops whilst flicking through my vintage magazines on my bed, and swooning over all the handsome actors in them ♡

Long Spring evening walks, then coming home in the garden and making flower crowns and daisy chains ♡

Trips to the garden centre on sunny days, wearing a cute outfit and taking my tote bag, drinking lemonade in the cute cafe and having girly, gossip chats with my mum. Looking at all the cottage core accessories in the gift shop and going to the indoor market afterwards to buy fresh fruit and Vegetables ♡

Light Spring meals of fruits and vegetables that I’ve picked out at the garden centre that day ♡

Coming home in the evening to watch “Bridgerton” and play board games with my family ♡

Eating ice lolly’s on particularly sunny days and writing in my journal at my vanity ♡

Wearing coconut body lotion and rose scented hand cream to stay the sweetest girl in town ♡

Buying fresh bunches of flowers to put in my cottage and in my bedroom, so everywhere smells sweet and delightful ♡

Splashing in puddles on really rainy days, dancing in the rain with my pink raincoat and catching raindrops on my tongue ♡

Running about the garden in my pink milkmaid dress, going to the local farm to see the alpacas and chickens ♡

Feeling like a Spring woodland fairy, trying to spot wild deer and bunny’s in my local wood ♡

Having Picnics and Tea Party’s with extra special treats. Sugary biscuits and fruity tea’s to feel like Marie Antoinette ♡

Pretty baby pink or yellow manicure. Light colored nails for this time of year ♡

Painting watercolors and doing Spring crafts as the nights draw out and the days get longer ♡

Fuzzy socks, warm cups of tea and Disney movies in the evenings. Bambi, Cinderella and Sleeping beauty ♡

Collecting Sylvanian families to put in my little doll house in my bedroom. I’m growing my collection hehe ♡

[pumpkinsy0]

twttin characters (and rusty james from rumble fish lol) in my early 2000s au :3

cathy: im gonna tell yall RIGHT now, she goes by “cat”, i cannot explain it to u but she just DOES to me, nobody rlly knows her as cathy shes just,,,cat, shes that kind of girl that always has a camera in her hand just taking pics of whatever and she posts it on flickr, she loves photography, shes always wearing those milkmaid tops or big sweaters with bell bottom jeans, and her hair is short, think of those teen movies w that “down to earth pretty chill w her walkman” girl and thats her, she was prolly watching those mlp tribute vids on her family computer, she thinks its cute, she loves collecting pins n stuff, she loves friends (the show)

m&m: gonna b so honest w u, m&m just seems so timeless to me i dont rlly have much to say for him bc i think he’d act the exact same way no matter the time period, BUT some things i can add is that he really likes the teenage mutant ninja turtles and loves comic books so theres that, hes a bit of a collector of just about anything and so cathy takes pics of his room a lot and post it on flickr so theres that, he’d be in the family computer quite a bit and since in the early 2000s barely any adult knew how to use the computer he was just on there goin crazy in chatrooms on some odd ass forum talking about figurines or somethin, god bless his soul, always has cathy’s walkman and gameboy she never gets to use them but its ok, she lives her bro, he loves pokemon and has a card collection in his binder

mark: he makes fun of ppl who use the internet (in the early 2000s the internet was seen as a more of a niche interest and it was associated with like geeks/nerds n stuff) and video games (cough cough m&m cough), literally all he watches is adult swim if not, he loves wwe, that guy whos always in a skatepark despite never??? skating???? he just has a bit of friends there and hangs out w them a but, BUT he does have a bike he uses as transportation and can actually do some pretty cool tricks like my god i cant even hate, has 1 snapback hat he wears religiously, has a bunch of posters of half naked women on his side of the room

bryon: he has so many things from abercrombie and fitch, hollister, american eagle, hes THAT guy good lord, he would be a bit into basketball, i could see that, watches myv just to be judgey but also bc pretty girls on tv, watches jackass w mark, has a playstation 1 he just NEVER touches, has THE SMALLEST interest in video games like halo and grand theft auto, action movies are his thing, if u wanna see an action movie hes the guy

rusty james: thinks hes sooooo grown for watching adult swim, he and “thinks its for losers”, hes that guy thats into bmx sports, steals a ton of magazines on it, HATES boy bands but is like “if i was in one the girls would LOVE me”

[unhonestlymirror]

At the end of the USSR, in 1989, the first official exhibition of erotic photography, "Flowers in Flower", was held in moscow. Its author, Lithuanian artist and photographer Rimantas Dichavičius, recalls how his “flowers” ​​broke through the concrete of soviet morality and hypocrisy, and why his exhibition never returned to Lithuania.

When the album "Flowers in flower" was released in 1987, it was so popular that Dichavičius was given only three copies. He left one at home and took the other two to America. For the first time in 50 years of his life, the artist was allowed to travel abroad. He gave one book to the USA as a gift and brought the other back. “When I arrived in moscow, they took it away from me at Sheremetyevo. I tried to explain that it was my book, that I was its author. The customs officer ran with my book to his superior. And he said: “Yes, yes, it’s him, I was at his exhibition, everything is fine, let him go,” recalls Dichavicius."

As a little boy, Rimantas Dichavičius and his parents were exiled to Siberia along with thousands of Lithuanians during Stalin's time. Having lost his mother and ended up in a special institution for children of "enemies of the soviet people", Rimantas did not become embittered, on the contrary, he sought and seeks beauty in everything and everyone: "Today we must save beauty itself, it is not in demand. We must cherish it, we must pass it on to others. That is when beauty begins to save. This ideal is scattered in people."

"The exhibition was born from the album of the same name. Dichavicius, together with his second wife Valerija, collected it from photographs of nudes and nature, taken over many years of creativity. Working with photography, the artist tried to capture not only the beauty of the female body. His archive - over 275 thousand negatives - are unique and full of lyrics shots of the post-war Lithuanian village, cemeteries, monuments and architecture, and even just stones and trees.

It was difficult to work with photography in the USSR. It was impossible to get Western film, and the soviet one was of poor quality. Rimantas had tens of thousands of rejected pictures. But the main thing is what to shoot. Dichavicius was detained at least twenty times for shooting “inappropriate” (by soviet standards) nature. Once, he was kept in jail for a day for filming a grandmother and grandson near Šalčininkai. Against the backdrop of the Prague events of 1968, local police officers suspected him of spying for America: "Vilis is driving, stops, a guy gets out: "What are you filming here? Why are you filming a dirty old woman, a house with a leaky roof, a boy on a dusty road... For what purpose, you faggots, are filming?"

However, even more dangerous, according to Rimantas, was photographing girls on the Lithuanian coast, in the Palanga area. There, soviet border guards had to search every square meter. “I was detained by soldiers, forced to peel potatoes. I had to argue with their superiors, explaining that I was an artist, that I had come to the sea and was taking pictures. To which the superior said: the soldiers are looking at you, and they should be looking at Sweden. Maybe an enemy ship is sailing by, and you are lying around in the sand with women,” the photographer recalls. "And then he says: "Okay then... Print me one beautiful girl as a gift, and I will let you go."

Despite the harsh soviet morality, the girls themselves rarely refused Dichavičius a photo shoot. In total, he persuaded 141 girls, only three refused. One of them had just had her appendix removed, and the other came to the artist 40 years later in tears – she really regretted that she had refused to be photographed in her youth.

Taking a photo is one thing - and it’s quite another to explain why you don’t want to photograph piggeries and milkmaids. And it’s even more difficult to get erotica into a magazine or an exhibition. In the USSR, where it was officially stated that there was no sex, there could be no erotica either. In the press, which was only state-owned, especially. This taboo was periodically violated by the Lithuanian, Kaunas, magazine “Nemunas” (“Neman”). Back in the 1970s, the publication began publishing non-standard texts and poetry. Once, it “let through” a photograph of a naked girl. This caused a scandal, but the editors decided not to stop there – two or three times a year, the magazine would feature “nudity”: “These magazines were sent by relatives to guys who served in the army all over the Union. And the army was surprised: is it really possible that “such things” are printed in the USSR?! In Lithuania it is allowed, but not in other republics? The echo reached from all corners of the USSR.”

The album “Flowers in flower” ​​compiled by Rimantas and his wife Valerija lay in a box for several years. Until the director of the experimental printing house Genrikh Vysotsky came to Vilnius from moscow. It was 1987, already "perestroika", a little more freedom, but censorship was still strict. Vysotsky, who was originally from Vilnius, went around to all the publishing houses in search of an “interesting album.” He explained that he had received the latest Japanese two-color offset printing press and wanted to publish something unusual. He was offered Dichavičius’s album. Vysotsky looked at it and was inspired, took the folder, went to moscow, and a week later summoned Dichavičius to the capital.

“I have two pieces of news for you: good and bad. Everyone likes the book, but no one dares to give it the go-ahead. Everyone says, ‘move on.’ It turns out we’re going to storm the kremlin wall,” Dichavicius recalls Vysotsky’s words.

They managed to take the wall – the album was brought to Mikhail Gorbachev for approval. According to the photographer, he looked at it and said: “Beautiful girls, not vulgar at all, even romantic and poetic. Marx also said that what is human is not alien to us. Why not? This is a hackneyed theme in the world, and we, like barbarians, are here in armor. He waved his hand and said: "Let it be." Five minutes later, Vysotsky and Dichavičius got the necessary stamp, and they rushed to the printing house.

There was less than a week left until the International Book Fair, and they managed to print the first edition of 10 thousand copies for it – they printed around the clock. The album, still smelling of printing ink, decorated the Lithuanian stand. The cover was nothing special, just a portrait of a girl. One comes up, opens the album, looks and shudders - there are many beauties in Eva's clothes inside, - says Dichavičius. - And something incredible began. Everyone swam to our stand, hundreds of people. They broke the stand! They decided to close it, surround it with stools, and began inviting potential customers one by one. The Chinese came and were endlessly surprised: how could the "big brother" publish such a book! They asked to print two million copies. We said that this was a lot. To which they replied: "Well, at least a million - for a narrow circle of specialists."

The album blew up soviet reality. It was reprinted several times. But Dichavičius did not receive any royalties from the new multi-thousand print runs (they said that all-Union fame was enough), nor any author's copies: "For me, this was a big blow. It was terribly offensive. Human dignity disappeared in an instant. And why? The book officially cost 18 rubles. But it is nowhere to be found. People paid up to 200 rubles for it – two salaries at that time. Many people brought a set to russia as a gift – Lithuanian vodka “Dainava”, smoked eel and “Flowers in flower”. And all the doors opened! And you – a poor author, you are not entitled to anything”.

How did a Lithuanian album with erotica suddenly come to light in this soviet swamp, where an artist was not allowed to photograph what he wanted, or to wish for money, or to show normal human feelings? Rimantas Dichavičius believes that by the mid-1980s people were tired of being robots in a soulless and hypocritical and false soviet system: "My photographs expressed normal human feelings. But for a soviet person this could not be the norm, – reasons Dichavičius. "You had to follow the party, go without blinking, to communism. And love is the most sacred feeling, and you give it to the woman, your beloved. But in the USSR, you had to love the party and the people first. And this theater drowned out normal feelings in people. You can't confess your love to anyone except the Leader hanging on the wall."

After the album's enormous success, Dichavičius was offered to hold an exhibition in moscow at the Photo Center of the Union of Journalists. It was opened by the Chairman of the Union of Artists Andrei Vasnetsov. Chief editors of major newspapers, the US Ambassador to the USSR Jack Metlock and other diplomats came.A report from the opening of the exhibition was shown on TV - and the people came: "There was such an influx of people! The first came, then more followed them, then thousands of people were standing and pressing forward. Under the pressure of the queue, the first entered the buildings, breaking glass and doors. They called the police - it was useless. They shot into the air, but the crowd continued to press. Then they called the mounted police. People were scared of the horses, the entrance was blocked. Fortunately, there were no casualties, but there were scratches and dents. They spent a couple of days restoring the entrance and made zigzags of barriers in front of it to organize a queue. And the exhibition hung for five and a half months."

Usually, photo exhibitions of one author were displayed for no more than a week. But Dichavičius' exhibition attracted crowds - 20 thousand people a day - and brought in a large income - a ruble from each visitor. However, the author was again denied a fee. And according to Dichavičius's own calculations, it came to no less than a million rubles. The artist again had to storm the high offices - this time together with the director of the photo center, Valery Nikiforov. But the official who received them was adamant: "He came up to me, poked me in the chest with his fist and said: "Citizen Dichavičius, are you a Soviet man? Soviet people are people with ideas! And you, scoundrel, came here to beg for money! We made you world famous, and now you dare to ask for money?! Get out of here!"

The most interesting thing began later. After this conversation, Dichavičius decided to close the exhibition. The photographs were removed in the evening of the same day, and in the morning he was supposed to take all the pictures. But they were not there. The works were taken from the photo center by unknown persons, and Dichavičius himself was told: if you want to stay alive, forget about this exhibition and go home. And the exhibition began to live its own life - the author learned about its fate from the stories of his friends.

One of them came to Dichavičius from Tbilisi with a gunshot wound to the leg and with an accusation: naked beauties almost cost him his life. His friend miraculously got to the exhibition when they were already preparing to take it to another city. "I was walking around the exhibition, and after me, five to seven minutes later, other guys came, - Dichavičius recounts the words of his friend. - They were told: it's closed. And they brazenly: "We will open it, then." They come in, and the leader calls the main one and says: "It was your exhibition, and now it will be mine. Now I will travel with it around the Union." The gangster brawl ended with gunfire into the ceiling, and the artist's friend was wounded by a ricochet.

Another time, news about the exhibition “Flowers in flower” ​​came from Leningrad. Dichavičius decided to go and see it himself. He arrived, saw a long line, but was not afraid and decided to stand in it and listen to what thoughts people had when they went to the exhibition. He did not buy a ticket but asked directly: “Maybe the author doesn’t need one?” The ticket seller and the controller were confused, they decided that a madman had come, but they still called the elders. Dichavičius was taken backstage, asked to show his documents and asked why he had come. The photographer honestly admitted that he wanted to see his exhibition and find out how it ended up there. They answered him: “We didn’t get it from you and we won’t report to you. And who we got it from is none of your business.” The elder ordered Dichavičius to be put on the next flight to Vilnius and threatened to kill him if he did not fly away: wrap him in a carpet and throw him into the Neva. Already at the plane's steps, the bandit who saw him off repeated the threat: "If you look for the truth at home, we will find you there too." Dichavičius returned home, told his wife and friends about his adventures and decided not to search for the exhibition anymore.

Rimantas Dichavičius never saw his legendary exhibition again. Although news about it came from different cities all over the USSR. Today, 35 years later, Rimantas Dikhavicius recalls this criminal story with philosophical calm and a smile: "The power of art and female beauty won!"

Source: Delfi.lt

[vague-humanoid]

Hannah doesn’t have to call herself a tradwife because she already is one. As such, Ballerina Farm has become the lodestar for those still aspiring to establish an aesthetically pleasing—and, ideally, monetized—pastoral existence. Most of her acolytes are less subtle about their politics, which they assume Hannah shares. In 2021, Morgan Zegers, the founder of the Turning Point USA-affiliated group Young Americans Against Socialism, said that Ballerina Farm gives her “DAILY inspiration on how to live out my values as a Conservative.” On her podcast, Zegers, who recently got engaged and does not have any children, gives “young unmarried women who dream of becoming a traditional wife and stay-at-home mom one day” advice on how to “become an asset for your future family.”

She is far from the only tradwife-in-training who has been inspired by Ballerina Farm. Take Gwen the Milkmaid, a Canadian “ASMRtist” and wellness-influencer-turned-tradposter. “Pov: you used to be a pro-abortion, anti-marriage, lesbian ‘feminist,’” reads the caption on a TikTok post of her rehydrating sourdough starter, “but now you’re getting married to your fav man on earth, love serving him, and can’t wait to make babies.” Like Hannah, Gwen is blonde, posts videos of herself cooking and frolicking in prairie dresses, and emphasizes the difference between her old life and the new one she has built for herself—or, rather, the life she hopes to have built, someday. In one video, Gwen asks God “why I don’t have a fifty-acre farm, seven children, forty chickens and five jersey cows yet.” Lacking a multimillionaire father-in-law, or a dairy cow of her own, she’s forced to churn store-bought cream into homemade butter. Gwen’s videos turn the subtext of Ballerina Farm’s videos into text, as if to compensate for the ranch she lacks: Gwen is proudly antigovernment, antivaccine, and anti-birth control.

Ballerina Farm has also been frequently boosted by Evie Magazine. Billing itself as the conservative answer to Cosmo, Evie publishes articles on everything from “How to Wear Shorts Like a French Girl” to the supposedly rampant child sex trafficking to which the Biden administration has turned a blind eye. In February, they responded to a minor scandal that broke out when details about the Neelemans’ family wealth began circulating on TikTok. The article ends with a full-throated defense of Ballerina Farm. “Our culture has become far too comfortable with criticizing people for being rich,” it reads. “There’s nothing wrong with having money or coming from money. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with using that money to create a beautiful homesteading life that creates useful food, products, and content for people all across the country.” For Evie, the Neelemans’ secret wealth isn’t proof that living off the land is largely inaccessible to the masses but a symbol of the virtuousness of Ballerina Farm’s mission. They have enough money to live glamorously; instead, they choose to live a simple life. That this simple life might be an expensive illusion is never considered.

A month later, the magazine published a treatise on tradwives by Gina Florio, a personal trainer who moonlights as manager to Candace Owens, a conservative commentator whose BLEXIT foundation urged Black people to abandon the Democratic Party. (Owens has also promoted Ballerina Farm on Instagram. Hannah, for her part, reposted the endorsement and later deleted it.) Like Gwen the Milkmaid, Florio is a reformed liberal who wrote for Teen Vogue and PopSugar before she “left the left.” Tradwives, she argues, are superior to “the shrieking, blue-haired protester who wants on-demand abortion and supports the ‘free the nipple’ movement.” She describes Ballerina Farm as the example on which conservative women should model their lives: “The children are blonde and seemingly well-mannered. The father herds cattle in a cowboy hat. And the mother is impossibly beautiful as she milks cows in her overalls, loose braids, and zero makeup.” This is all in contrast to “the average twenty-five-year-old woman” who “lacks basic domestic skills, serially dates multiple men, and loudly opposes manners and decorum.”

To her credit, Florio acknowledges that it’s functionally impossible for most women—even those who want nothing more than to dedicate their entire lives to caring for a husband and children—to fulfill the tradwife ideal. She points out that real wages have stagnated since the 1970s, making it impossible to raise a family on a single income. “We have to really ask ourselves if we want to truly return to tradition,” Florio writes, “or if we want to just fantasize about the perfect trad wife who is both gorgeous and domestic.”

[djohnhopper]

CELEBRATE TALENT: Celebrate with us the work of the writer and poet Donna Pucciani, and 5 fascinating poems revolving around classic art: What Vermeer Knows; The Milkmaid [Vermeer, 1660]; Young Woman with a Water Jug [Vermeer, 1662]; Night Watch, for Rembrandt; Dread. So don't hesitate, go get yourself a copy of issue 24, 21 writers and poets, 46 pieces of original work, over 233 pages, all instantly downloadable planet-wide. Just follow the link: https://payhip.com/b/NLEeQ 100subtexts magazine: diverse voices in one inclusive space.

[comixfanboi77]

Larry and the milkmaid fan made story

 

Chapter 1

 

Larry smoked his cigar in his den. Puffs of smoke filled the air as he was reading his favourite porn magazine.  Playboy,  Hustler and XXX were among his favorites.  Larry was feeling self-confident that he would score with a new girl who recently made her home in his neighborhood. Larry the Supreme Chick Magnet or Fuckable Larry as he is fondly nicknamed, perused the centerfold inside his porn magazine. The centerfold pictured a porn star who made it big time in Las Vegas.  She had double d breasts, vivacious hips, and a butt that begged to be grabbed from behind. Larry felt a throbbing in his pants: he was getting horny again. Larry reached down to his zipper and stroked his cock. He was stroking it as if he was massaging. He wouldn't strike it too much because he had a shower recently. As he was massaging his cock he heard the doorbell ring. Larry got a bit anxious as to who would be ringing his doorbell this early in the morning. He zipped up and got up to open his front door.

 

Larry: Who are you?

Stranger: Oh, I'm the new milkmaid.  I brought you fresh milk this morning.

Larry: Where is my regular milkman?

Milkmaid: Oh, he was laid off. Our milk company did some restructuring recently. We have a new boss too.

Larry: What's your name?

Milkmaid: My name is Harriet. And yours?

Larry: The name is Larry. Just call me Larry.

Milkmaid: Glad to meet you Larry! You are the first guy I've met today!

Larry: Great! Are you free tomorrow night?

Milkmaid: What? Are you asking me on a date?

Larry: Sure, if you are free from work we could go on a date.

Milkmaid: There is a possibility that I might be available.

Larry: Harriet, thank you so much for the fresh milk you delivered.

Milkmaid: What time will you pick me up?

Larry: At 7PM.

Milkmaid: Good! That sounds like a plan.

Larry: You must dress up gorgeous for our date. I can't wait to see you out of your uniform!

Milkmaid: Thank you too, Larry! You are a gentleman!

Larry: See you at 7PM tomorrow night!

Milkmaid: See you there, Larry!

[milkmaidmag]

THE CONSTRUCTION OF TEEN IDENTITY ON-SCREEN: THIRTEEN (2003)

[theillustratedmagazine]

‘To A Milkmaid’, Caroline Wells, Idle Idyls, (New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1900), p. 14

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Peña’s Anatomy — Chapter Four

pairing: doctor au!javier peña x resident!reader

chapter rating: E (semi-public fondling, m/f oral sex, swallowing)

word count: 6.9k

series masterlist

“She’s alive!” You smiled widely as you welcomed Mickey into your apartment the morning after her romp with Michael. She didn’t smile back, her face in a permanent scowl as she plopped down on the sofa. “Didn’t go well, I take it?”

“Would I be here at seven in the morning if it did?” She sighed and covered her face. “I feel like such an idiot!”

“What happened?” You poured her the first bit of your freshly brewed coffee, putting cream and far too much sugar in it, just the way she liked it.

“You were right. The guy’s got a fiancé and a kid on the way. He broke the news to me in the middle of doggy.” You snorted out a laugh at the visual, earning a glare as you handed her the mug before sitting down beside her and taking a sip of your own coffee.

“Sorry, I know it’s not funny but—“

“It’s kind of funny. You can laugh at my pain, I understand.” She chuckled and took a sip before groaning again. “I always do this, you know. You’d think I’d be smarter given the whole surgeon thing but—is that an Albert Einstein book?”

Your eyes followed hers to the coffee table, your lips parting and heart dropping as she picked it up. Knowing that Javier’s name was written right inside the cover, you snatched it from her hands and held it to your chest. Mickey gave you a suspicious chuckle and eyed you down until you began to break.

“Who’s is that? Because I know damn well you’re not reading a book on string theory.” She folded her arms over her chest as you tried to think up a good lie. “Oh! Did you manage to get some at the bar last night?”

“Yes!” You blurted out a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, uh, it was just a casual thing. Kicked him out after. Nothing special.”

“Well, he’s obviously a nerd, so…expected that. You gonna see him again?” Your mind flipped back to the sex you had on this very couch you were sat on, a smile tugging at your lips at the thought of doing it again.

“Uh, don’t know. We’ll see.” You shrugged and cleared your throat, standing up with a stretch. “I was going to go to thrifting this morning. Wanna come along?”

“Sure, a little retail therapy never hurt anybody.” She nodded and followed you into your bedroom to keep you company as you got dressed and put together for the day.

She laid on her stomach across your bed, flipping through one of the magazines you kept on your bedside table, her chin propped up by her elbow.

“Oh, did you get that invitation for the fundraiser gala thing at the hospital next week? Apparently if you sign up to attend, they’ll give you the night off.”

“Are you going?” You asked as you combed mascara through your eyelashes, fingertips wiping away whatever mess you inevitably made.

“A night off full of champagne and mingling with rich philanthropist daddies? Yeah, I think so.” She chuckled and sat up. “Speaking of, Dr. Daddy is the keynote speaker.”

“You gotta stop with the Dr. Daddy thing.” You rolled your eyes and watched through the mirror as your blush formed in real time at just the mention of his existence.

“How did it go with the peds patient? I heard you both lost her yesterday. I’m sorry—“

“Shh, we don’t need to do that emotional thing where we dive deep into our feelings.” You turned around and smiled at her, earning an eye roll. “I’m fine. It sucked but…I’m fine. I’m a doctor, death is going to be a recurring thing in this profession.”

“So don’t you think you should learn how to process these feelings? The doctors who don’t are the ones who get all boozy and incompetent.” You groaned loud and dramatically, tossing your head back. “Okay, okay. But if you start to go dark on me, I will be holding an intervention. Key note speaker: Dr. Javier ‘Daddy’ Peña.”

“I hate you.” You laughed at her and stood up, walking to your closet and grabbing your favorite—and only—dress.

It was a milkmaid style dress that your mother had sewn you for your med-school graduation, red in color and made of eyelet linen. The sweetheart neckline was low, but not so low that it couldn’t be worn in the day time, the short sleeves puffed up around your bicep. You always felt pretty when you wore it, and you felt closer to home—something you never thought you’d have the chance to miss like you did now.

“Look at you! I mildly forgot you were a lady. All those jeans and old henleys.” She teased as you slid on a pair of sandals and held up your middle finger to her. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Try our luck at finding a distraction. We’re both attractive women, why should we be stuck inside moping over men we can’t have?”

“I’m not moping.” You scoffed at her words in an effort to hide the fact that you very much were moping, just on the inside.

“Fine, regardless, you and I need to have some fun. Let loose and all that.” She urged you on with a puppy dog frown and wide eyes, pulling a chuckle out of you.

“Fine, but I’m going to be napping all afternoon to pre-game.” She agreed to your terms and followed you out of the house with McCartney in tow. Knocking on Rose’s door, it only took a few seconds for her to open it wide with a smile.

“Hey, sweetheart. You off on a date with that hunk from yesterday? What was his name again? Started with a ‘J’…” Your cheeks turned red as Mickey looked over at you with curious eyes.

“Jose.” Rose nodded and you thanked the lord above that she was a bit forgetful when it came to names.

“That’s right. Handsome boy, you should have seen him, Mickey. Tall, dark hair, a dreamboat.” Rose gushed to your friend as you urged McCartney to go inside of the elderly woman’s apartment.

“No dates today, just running some errands. Did you have your grocery list ready for me?” She gasped and nodded, walking over to her kitchen before coming back with a slip of paper and two twenties. You shoved her money out of the way and only accepted the list. “Your money is no good here.”

“Come on, don’t be a brat.”

“Not taking your money, Rosie.” You stood firm in your decision, earning an eye roll from the woman.

“Fine, but I’m bringing over some dinner tonight.” You chuckled and nodded at her compromise. “But make sure you bring that hunk back over. Because if you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him for myself.”

“Oh, I’m not sure he’s man enough for a woman like you, Rose.” You got a genuine laugh out of her, bringing a wide smile to your face before she began to cough. “The bronchitis still hasn’t gone away? I thought I told you to keep me updated if the antibiotics didn’t—“

“You worry too much.” She wheezed and reached into her pocket to grab her inhaler, puffing on it once before sliding it back into her pants. “I’m a tough old horse. If I could make it through the 60’s, I can make it through a little cold. Now go on, and have fun you two! Try not to think about work. When you’re my age, you’re going to wish you spent your days sleeping around and having fun—not stuck inside a cold hospital.”

“Ever the wise woman, aren’t you?” You chuckled and pulled her in for a hug, Mickey doing the same before the two of you left and hopped into Mickey’s tiny sedan.

“Jose, huh?” She smiled over at you as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Jose, mild in bed, popular with old ladies, reads Einstein. Real character that one.”

“Yeah. A real character.”

•••

Javier’s morning had started quicker than he hoped it would after being paged for an incoming trauma around 3 a.m., still half-tipsy from the whiskey he’d indulged in to try and get you off his mind. He took a cold shower and downed a cup of black coffee to finish sobering him up, and by the time he scrubbed in all the alcohol had fully made its way out of his system.

The surgery went successfully, the patient’s condition being much better than the CT made it seem initially. Around six in the morning, Javier was scrubbed out and wandering back to his truck in the parking lot, yawning and desperate for another coffee.

When he pulled into his favorite coffee shop, a local one that was nothing fancy or special, a woman in a red dress caught his eye. He perked up a bit when he realized just who it was.

“Lucky!” He called out from across the parking lot as you walked towards the door with your friend, pedestrians giving him a stare but he really couldn’t have cared less.

“Dr. Peña.” Your tone was formal—of course it was. You apparently weren’t even okay with your closest friend knowing about the nature of your relationship with him, but he tried not to let it sting his ego too much.

“It’s awfully early for the two of you to be up. Isn’t it your day off?” He turned his eyes to Mickey, just to make sure she didn’t catch on to anything.

“I had a bad date so I woke her up to keep me company.” Mickey shrugged and opened the door to the cafe, gesturing for the two to go inside first.

“Ah, with Dr. Russel?” Mickey gave him a shocked look. “Word spreads fast around the hospital.”

“Did you know he was engaged and expecting?” She asked with interest, Javier’s eyes wandering to the back of your head as you faced away from him in line.

“Uh, no. Didn’t think anyone would willingly commit to somebody like him.” She chuckled but he wished it was you he was making laugh instead. “Don’t let it keep you down, kid. There’s plenty of men in this town that aren’t complete assholes.”

“Oh, what, men like yourself?” Javier’s lips parted at her flirty tone, finally noticing your head turn to the side so that you could no-doubt glare at the woman.

“Better men.” He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck as Mickey eyed him, his eyes turning away completely in an effort to thwart her potential feelings towards him. “Lucky, how are you feeling today?”

“Just fine, doctor.” You didn’t move an inch as you replied to him in that dry, polite tone that made him want to roll his eyes and pin you against the wall simultaneously.

Javier listened as you gave your order to the barista, his jaw clenched as he continued to study the back of your head as though if he looked long enough it would unveil all your hidden feelings.

When you and Mickey attempted to pay for your coffees, he stepped in, walking up to the counter where you stood and pulling out a twenty. You glared at him for doing the generous act, but little did you know that he’d hold onto that little bit of eye contact all day long.

•••

“You didn’t have to do that.” You scolded him as he sat with you outside of the cafe, Mickey inside using the restroom.

“I wanted to.” He shrugged and kept his eyes locked on you, your eyes looking everywhere but directly at him.

“You also didn’t have to be so flirty with Mickey.” You mumbled under your breath, unable to keep your jealousy to yourself. Javier chuckled and stretched his leg out under the table to graze against yours, the subtle action bringing a new blush onto your face. It was shameful how little he had to do in order to stir you.

“I wasn’t trying to flirt with her. I thought I did a pretty good job at not flirting, actually. A little praise would be nice.” You chuckled darkly and rolled your eyes at his smugness, finally gracing him with a bit of eye contact.

“If you’re after praise, you’ve come to the wrong woman. I’m only here to make you feel bad.”

“Well…” He weighed his head to the side and looked out at the street. “You usually make me feel pretty good before you make me feel bad, so…it balances out.”

“What are we doing, Javier?” You shook your head and sighed, eyes softening as you focused on him. “I mean, all of this is just twisting the knife. We’re being masochists with all this…extra stuff.”

“I like the extra stuff.” His tone was sincere and almost pleading, his dark eyes darting between yours.

“Don’t you hate it when you get your period right in the middle of the day? At least have the decency to start in the middle of the night so I can prepare myself, you know?” Mickey broke the tension with her return, sitting down in the chair between the two of you.

“Do you, uh, need any meds? I carry some pain killers in my truck if you want any.” Javier offered and his act of kindness made you groan, both pairs of eyes turning to look at you.

“Sorry, just have a headache.” You were a terrible liar, but the two decided not to probe you for more info as Mickey accepted his offer, Javier walking off to his truck to go grab the medicine.

“Isn’t he a dream? Are you sure you don’t want to risk it with him?” You nodded as you kept your eyes down on your coffee cup, an actual headache beginning to form at her quickly developing crush. “Well, would you mind if I took a crack at it?”

“Yes.” You snapped, bringing your eyes to hers. “I mean, it’s not a good idea for either of us to go down that rabbit hole. It’s not allowed for a reason, Mick.”

“Yeah, but…look at him.” Both of your eyes turned to look at Javier as he walked back to the table, the way his hips swayed almost criminal. “Look, if you already called dibs, I’ll back off completely.”

“No. There’s no dibs because I’m not going to risk my job over a man. But you do you.” You lifted your coffee to your lips and tried to swallow your jealousy along with the liquid, Mickey’s eyes lighting up as Javier returned with the meds.

“Were you doing anything this morning, Dr. Peña? We were just about to go to the thrift store.” Mickey leaned in as she began to try her luck with the doctor, your jaw clenching at the sight.

You knew if you told her to back off, she would—she was a good friend—but you telling her to back off would be an admission of your feelings for the man. And the idea of your cutesy feelings for your superior becoming common knowledge far outweighed the jealousy you felt seeing her flirt with Javier. Besides, if Javi was half the man you thought he was, he wouldn’t go fuck your best friend right under your nose. Right?

“I haven’t been to a thrift store in a long time.” He chuckled and turned his eyes to yours. “Lucky, would you mind if I came along?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. It’s a free country.” You shrugged and tried to hide your irritation with a forced smile, Javier chuckling at the sight.

“Alright, I’ll meet you guys over there. Unless you just want to go with me in my truck.” He offered and you opened your mouth to reject him, but Mickey was quicker.

“Sure!” She beamed at him and you had to force yourself not to gag at the sight. Javier nodded and stood up, walking the two of you over to his truck and opening the door.

Mickey climbed in first onto the bench seat, your eyes shooting Javier daggers as you watched him casually glance at her ass. He turned to you and gave you a smile, one that wouldn’t seem suspicious to anyone besides you. As you climbed in, he put his hand on your hip to help you, the warmth of his unexpected touch making your center start to ache for more. As though he could sense it, he shot you a sly wink as he closed the door and walked around to the other side.

Mickey and Javier chatted away the entire drive over to the thrift store, your chin propped up on your elbow, leaning on the door and staring out of the window. You wanted to be anywhere but inside of this living nightmare, your best friend flirting with your crush, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just been inside of you not even twelve ours beforehand.

“Should I keep my eye out for anything in specific?” Javier leaned into your side as he walked with you into the thrift store, Mickey way ahead of you and making a bee-line towards the clothing. His shoulder brushed yours and you shot him a glare. “Come on, I only came to spend some time with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” You spat at him as you grabbed a cart, Javier’s hand resting on the small of your back as you walked backwards into him. “Stop it with the little touches, Javier! We’re in public.”

“We can find somewhere private.” He shrugged and winked at you, his eyes lowering to your cleavage. You scoffed at his proposition and walked off, desperate to cool off the heat in your cheeks from your fluster.

•••

Javier was following you around the store like a lost puppy. Currently, you were stood in the glassware aisle, eyes perusing shelves upon shelves of vases while Mickey tried on her picks in the dressing room. He could care less about the home decor he was examining alongside you, but he would feign interest in anything if it meant getting to be by your side.

“Am I supposed to have shit like this in my house? Vases.” He held up an ugly, polka-dot printed vase, watching as your face turned sour at the mere sight of it.

“God, not that specific one, but yes. Most people have decorations in their houses.” Your chuckle eased the constant irritated tone you’d been giving him all morning.

His eyes remained locked on you as you lifted up a clear vase, spinning it in your hand to inspect it for any scratches before you set it down in the cart.

“Maybe you could help me pick out a few things. Show me the ropes.” His body moved to cage you between him and the cart, his bulge pressing against the swell of your behind as his hands found your hips. You shivered at his proximity and pushed back against him to feel him even more, his lips dying to press against the back of your neck.

“Look what I just scored!” Mickey’s voice broke the two of you apart, Javier turning around and clearing his throat as she showed you the dress she found. It was a deep purple and silky gown, and he imagined it would look much better on you than your friend. “Thought it would be perfect for the Gala.”

“It’s gorgeous, Mick. I should probably go find one too.” Javier smiled at the thought of you dressed up in a gown, the smile turning into a grin as his thoughts turned filthier when he imagined taking it off of you at the end of the night. “Hey, Jav. Could you watch the cart while I go check out the dresses?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He turned to you with a soft smile. “You want me to follow you guys? Give you a man’s opinion?”

“A man’s opinion has never been useful to me.” You gave him a smirk as you walked off with your friend. Your confidence never failed to make him blush.

Javier wasn’t used to this sort of back-and-forth with the women he was interested in. They typically weren’t the type to like banter. Though beautiful and decently smart, they tended to be pretty vapid and shallow, the conversations being quite superficial in turn. But with you, talking seemed to be as fun as the physical part of your relationship. You were snide and crass and funny. That’s what did him in the most. You actually made him laugh—something not even his good friends could do.

As he waited for you to come back, his eyes scanned over the wall art at the back of the store. He figured that it would be an easy start in decorating his home—all he had to do was see something and like it. Simple enough.

His eyes locked on an abstract painting of a young woman, her pointed eyes and smirk reminding him instantly of yours. She even wore a similar red dress to the one that you’d been driving him crazy with all morning.

He stood there in front of the piece for a good while contemplating whether or not to get it, but eventually decided that hanging a visual reminder of your existence wouldn’t help at all with the already overwhelming crush he had on you.

“Alright, you ready to go or did you want to keep looking around?” Your voice was like a shot of epinephrine to his heart, perking him up and reviving him. He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the dress you’d picked out, not failing to notice how little fabric the gown seemed to have to it. “Alright, Mick. Let’s check out and go.”

“Good, I’m desperate for a nap.” She grumbled and led the three of you to the registers.

“I have to hurry if I want to catch the bus so I can pick up Rose’s groceries.” Javier’s ears turned hot as he tried to muster the courage to offer you his help.

“I could…take you.” Both pairs of eyes turned to him as the two of you set your things on the counters. “I have to go shopping anyways, so it’s really no trouble.”

“Well, that’s an awfully nice thing for you to do, doc.” Mickey teased with a smirk pointed at her friend, finally seeming to understand that Javier had zero interest in flirting with her.

“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? I could just catch the bus—“

“No, it’s no problem at all.” He hoped his smile wasn’t too hopeful, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit desperate for just a little bit more time with you—this time away from the suspicious eyes of your friend.

“Alright, yeah. Sure.” Your casual shrug and slight smile was all Javier needed to feel like he was on top of the world.

He may have broken the speed limit a few times in an effort to get to Mickey’s parked car at the cafe, his mind swirling with ideas on how to transition this whole grocery trip into something resembling more of a date.

“Alrighty, you two. I’ll see you at the hospital in the morning, Dr. Peña.” Mickey grabbed her bags from the backseat and stuffed them carelessly into her trunk, turning her eyes from Javier’s to yours. “And we’re still on for tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you when I’m ready to go.” Javier bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from asking what the two of you had going on tonight as Mickey climbed into her car and drove off.

•••

“Thank you for offering to drive me. I’m hoping that I can afford a used car before winter rolls around.” You felt the need to make conversation in order to distract yourself from wanting to crawl over the bench seat and pounce on him as he drove you to the grocery store.

“You can borrow the truck anytime. I’ve got, uh, a little Audi I never like to drive around—too flashy. But, if you ever need to get around on your own, I’d happily let you use my baby.” He patted the dashboard before giving you a smirk, your lips parting as you watched his hand rub over the leather.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.” You turned your head to look out of the window, this constant blushed state starting to really irritate you.

“Has McCartney missed me?” You could hear the smirk on his lips.

“No, but Rose sure has. Almost spilled the beans to Mickey earlier.” You turned back to him, watching him shrug.

“That wouldn’t be so bad.” He glanced over at you with another smug grin and you chuckled, shaking your head at him.

“You’re a determined guy, I gotta give you that.” He chuckled and reached over, pinching your chin.

“You look too good today. It’s not fair.” His hand lowered to your throat, then the exposed skin of your chest before slipping underneath the fabric to palm your breast. You whimpered at the feeling of his warm palm against your skin, the public nature of it all making you drip. “Come over here and feel what you do to me.”

You did as he asked, sliding across the bench seat until your thigh was flush against his, your hand sliding up the material of his jeans until you were palming his bulge. You gasped at how hard he was, wanting more than anything to feel his weight on your tongue.

“You want me, bebita?” He asked as he pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot, your head nodding eagerly. “Can you wait until after we’re done shopping?”

“I’d rather not.” He laughed at your honesty before shaking his head.

“You can wait. Come on, let’s go inside.”

“But you’re hard.” You studied his smile before feeling him lean over and kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear.

“I’ve been hard since I saw you at the cafe and no one noticed, I think I’m fine.” As if it was easy, he pulled away and opened his door, holding his hand for you to slide over and get out the same way. You slid out without his help, not needing any more reason to want to drop to your knees for him right in this HEB parking lot. Javier seemingly chuckled at your fluster as you walked ahead of him towards the store. “You okay?”

“Yep. Doing great.”

•••

“Hey, darling. Oh! And my hunk!” Rose greeted the two of you at her door, urging you to come inside and set the groceries down on her counter. “Couldn’t stay away, could ya? Lie to me and tell me it was my beauty that brought you back and not the young woman beside you.”

“It’s all you, Rosie.” He winked at her as he started to put away her groceries, your heart swelling in your chest at how soft he was with the old woman. “Did you want me to leave anything out, sweetheart?”

“Oh, yeah. Leave the chicken out for me, honey.” She wabbled over to the two of you in the kitchen, studying you as you both awkwardly moved around each other to put things away. “Are you staying around for dinner, Jose?”

“Jose? Forget my name already, Rose?” He teased her with a smile, her eyes turning to yours.

“I lied earlier so that you wouldn’t spill the beans to Mickey about Javier.” You filled them both in on the situation.

“Mickey doesn’t even know? How secret is this little affair—wait, it’s not an actual affair, right?” She leaned forward to try and get a look at Javier’s left hand.

“No, not an actual affair.” You chuckled and took a deep breath. “Mickey doesn’t know. No one knows.”

“And how do you feel about that, Javier?” You turned to watch him along with Rose, Javier’s cheeks flushing pink as he grabbed all the plastic bags and packed them into one before moving to put them in the trash.

“Wait, I like to use those for McCartney’s walks.” You grabbed the bags from his hand and brushed your fingers against his, his pink cheeks now red.

“I, uh, I’m just along for the ride, I guess. Letting her call the shots.” He smiled at Rose and walked out of the kitchen, allowing her to take his arm as he walked her to her recliner.

•••

While Javier was helping Rose sit down, he leaned over and whispered to her. “I think I’m warming her up. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Oh, just when I thought I had a chance.” He chuckled at her and placed a kiss to her temple before standing upright and walking back to you. “I’ll bring your dinner by around five, honey. Are you staying, Javier? You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah, he’s staying.” Javier whipped his head over to look at you, your smile casual, but your eyes conveying all the unspoken feelings he so desperately longed to hear. He turned back to Rose with a boyish grin, shrugging as his hands rested on his hips.

“Well, I guess I’m staying.”

•••

The minute you got Javier inside your apartment, you pounced on him. McCartney barked and jumped up to play as Javier picked you up around his waist and carried you into your bedroom, the two of you giggling as you tried to swat him away.

“Come on, Macca. You’re being a total cockblock right now.” You groaned as you were forced to get up and shoo him out of the bedroom, shutting the door to keep him out. When you turned around, Javier was right there, his hands gripping you and pulling you to his body. You moaned as he kissed you, biting your lip as he backed you against the door. “I want to taste you, Javi.”

“Yeah?” He growled against the skin of your neck as he fought the urge to leave a mark. You nodded and slipped your hands down his body until you were palming his erection, his moans spilling right into your ear as he bucked his hips into your touch. “You can have whatever you want, bebita. I’m all yours.”

“For now.” You kissed his cheek before dropping to your knees, looking up at him as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down. His chest lifted and fell as your hands tugged his jeans down his thighs, his cock springing out and hitting your face. You giggled at it, gripping him at his base and tapping his head against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” His eyelids were heavy with lust as he watched you stick out your flattened tongue and lick off the precum, his cock twitching in your grasp. You hummed as you wrapped your lips around him head, releasing him with a pop. He shivered and twitched again, another bead of precum dribbling down his tip.

“So sensitive. Keep this up and I might start thinking you’ve got a thing for me.” You grinned at the effect your words had on him, his moans now falling out against his control. When you put him into your mouth completely and hummed around him he filled your mouth with his unexpected release, his moans now so loud that Rose surely could hear from her spot in the living room next door.

“Jesus fucking Christ, that’s never happened to me before. You’re an impressive woman.” He panted as he kept himself propped up with one hand pressed to the door, his body jerking when you continued to suck him dry. He cupped your face and guided you onto your feet, pinning your body against the door and kissing his taste off your lips and tongue. “Your turn, bebita.”

He lowered to his knees in front of you and slid his hands up underneath your dress lifting it over his head and disappearing. “God, this fucking dress.”

You giggled at the sight until you felt his nose nuzzling against your clothed heat, your head falling back against the door. His fingers dipped into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, tossing them carelessly behind him before returning both hands to your thighs. He gripped your flesh as his tongue slid further into your heat, taking his time in exploring you.

“You’re so good at using your mouth.” He smiled against you and it brought a grin to your own face. “Such a big ego, too.”

He curled his finger inside of you just to remind you of how justified his ego was, your thighs trembling under his grip. He slurped up all of your arousal, fingers prodding at your favorite spot inside while he sucked you into his mouth, bringing you over the edge in record time.

“Oh my god!” You held his head through the fabric of your dress and kept him there against you, his tongue working you through your high until it became too much. When you let go of him, he backed away from you, a wicked smile on his face as he stood up and kissed your juices into your mouth, your hands clutching at his shirt to keep him as close as possible.

“Go out with me. On a real date.” He breathed out against your lips as his forehead rested against yours, your head shaking against him. “You want me to beg?”

“No, I don’t want you to beg.” You lifted his head away and stared into his eyes, offering him a blissed out smile to ease the sting of your rejection. “I want you to stay the night.”

“Thought you had plans with Mickey.” His eyes bounced across your features and you pulled him in for another deep kiss that left both of you breathless.

“I’ll cancel.” Your lips moved against his as you spoke, earning a laugh. “I can’t give you a date, but I can give you this. Me and you in my apartment. Where nobody is here to tell on us.”

“Okay, bebita. I’ll take what I can get.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and hummed, gathering the strength to pull away. He zipped himself up as you opened the door for your dog, his happy face waiting right by the door. “McCartney, I think your mom is starting to like me.”

You grinned at the sight of him kneeling down to pet your dog, his words giving you the courage to finally come out and admit that it was true, whether you liked it or not.

“Yeah…I think she is.”

•••

Time passed quickly, the two of you curled up together all afternoon in bed catching up on some much needed sleep. Javier was elated that your walls were beginning to come down, little by little. Just yesterday you were pushing him away, and now here you were wrapped up in his arms fast asleep.

A few soft knocks woke him up, his eyes prying open and head lifting from the pillow to check the time. With a kiss to your shoulder, he stirred you awake.

“Wake up, bebita. Rose is here for dinner.” You grumbled and turned around, hugging him close. He chuckled and kissed your cheek, stroking your hair back. “I’m gonna go let her in while you wake up.”

“Okay,” your sleepy voice very quickly made its way to the top of his favorite sounds. It took all the strength he had to leave you alone in that bed, but he knew he couldn’t keep Rose waiting.

Padding his feet over to the bedroom door, he picked up his jeans and shirt and tugged them on before finally making it to the front door. With a smile, he opened it and welcomed the old woman inside.

“Took an awfully long time to come let me in. Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” She gave him a wink as she handed him the hot glass dish with aluminum foil covering it.

“No, too tired for any of that.” He chuckled and walked the dish over to the kitchen, setting it down before turning to look through your cupboards to find plates and cups.

“The one by the fridge.” You husked out as you groggily stumbled into the kitchen, kissing the top of Rose’s head as she sat at the dining table. Javier smiled at the sight of you in sweats and a tank top, your hair thrown up in a mess of a bun. “What did you make us, Rose?”

“Broccoli and chicken casserole. I hope you like it,” both of you shushed her worry at the same time before exchanging an amused look. “Well aren’t you two cute.”

“Watch out, you’re gonna scare her off.” Javier warned as he brought the plates over to the food and spooned a good helping into each. He delivered the plates with kisses to both of the ladies foreheads, ever the charmer.

“Has she admitted she likes you yet?” Rose asked as she took a bite of the food, earning a glare from you across the table. Javier chuckled and brought over three cups of water before sitting down and taking a bite.

“We’re still working on that.” He gave you a knowing smile from across the table, his foot tapping yours. “What about you, Rose? Any men knocking on your door to give you flowers?”

“I’ve outlived them all.” He chuckled at her dry sense of humor, realizing now why you and her got along so well. “But if you’re offering, I do love a good lily.”

“Not a rose?”

“Don’t be corny, Javier. It’s not a good look on you.” She gave him a once over before rolling her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? You could make a burlap sack look good.”

•••

It felt much too natural having dinner with Javier and Rose, the two trading flirty comments and witty banter like it was their job, bringing a wide grin to your face as you remained silent just to watch them.

It wasn’t only dinner that felt right, it was cleaning up after, sending Rose home with the leftovers, and coming back to curl up on the couch together with McCartney and a movie in the background.

Your lips found his like they belonged there, the two of you in no rush to take things up a notch—perfectly content with just sitting there kissing.

It was like he’d always been around, his scent even reminding you of home in some indescribable and nostalgic way. You found yourself being pulled to him like a magnet, and the more you allowed it, the harder it became to stop yourself.

“Javi?” You pulled away from his kiss breathless, your forehead resting against his.

“Yeah, bebita?” He tipped your head back so that he could look into your eyes.

“If we were to do this…how would we go about it? You know, to make sure no one found out.” You bit your lip and looked back at him with nervousness all over your face. He studied you for a minute before smiling.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before.”

“Secret dating?”

“Dating. Period.” His honesty was appreciated, but didn’t help to ease your worries. “Listen, bebita, I don’t know how we’d do it, but I do know that I want to. I’ve never felt this way…for anybody. I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to have this with you.”

“Even if it means no fancy dates, no flirting with me at work—no special treatment. That’s big for me. I want to earn my surgeries.”

“You have. Every surgery you’ve gotten is because you’ve deserved it.” He pecked your lips and you felt yourself start to let go of your fears. “Whatever it takes, cariño. I told you, I want this.”

“Alright, let’s…let’s try it out.” He grinned from ear to ear and tugged you onto his lap, making you giggle. “But if it gets messy or hard or stops being fun, promise me you’ll let me walk away. And I’ll let you go, too.”

“I promise.”

No matter how irresponsible or reckless it may have been to give into your feelings, you also thought it was reckless to cast them aside. You had so little in your life that made you feel this way, and it felt wrong to push it away just because your employer deemed it inappropriate. You knew what it was, and it wasn’t a power grab or some meaningless fling—Javier felt like home and you were determined to explore that. At whatever cost.

•••

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[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

Visit

This one goes out to   @lottathoughts @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess @momma-vi @jaelynndreamyyy @resident-mercie @macabrecakes @ashiemochi and everyone else who’s been a big inspiration for me to do things like this This came to me last night while sleeping, it’s a fluff/slice-of-life piece I guess. Starring Leon and my OC, Catherine. Timeline is post-4, so you can picture whichever Leon from 4 and beyond you want Rating? Ummm, general audiences I guess, like there’s nothing violent or gory in this, uhhh On a warm spring day, Catherine sat in front of her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her hair. Milkmaid braids, according to the fashion magazine on the dresser. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she was having thoughts of trying out dyeing her hair something other than her natural brown color. She had been eyeing the box of strawberry blonde dye at the store for a while now.

She briefly shut her eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them again. Her reflection stayed the same--grey eyes, olive skin.

It's been a while since she was caught up in that absolutely insane incident in Spain. But she remembered everything just as if happened yesterday--the decaying village, castle and island, the cult, the parasite, being infected along with Leon and Ashley, and the monsters born from carrying said parasite. Thanks to Leon's efforts, she's alive, and herself. Still, she found herself waking up in cold sweats due to vivid nightmares on occasion.

She took off of her pajamas, a cherry-colored short-sleeved shirt and matching pants. Walking to the set of clothes neatly laid out on her bed, she put them on, a white blouse with black buttons, knee-length forest green pencil skirt, white stockings, and finally, a pair of flat black shoes. She checked her reflection again, nodded, grabbed her purse near the door and walked downstairs.

Seeing Leon seated on the living room couch, wearing a navy blue suit and white dress shirt but no tie, mindlessly channel surfing made her crack a small smile.

"Hey. I'm ready to go. Sorry about taking so long," Catherine said to him, scratching her ear.

Leon looked up, pressed the power button on the remote and the television clicked off.

"No worries," he replied, "You said you needed to stop somewhere first?"

"Yeah, the florist, and then we'll go to the cemetery..."

Sitting next to Catherine on the bus, as it chugged along the road, hitting every pothole and bump along the way, made him realize it's been years since he last took public transportation. He looked out the window, watching cars, people and buildings whiz by.

Catherine reached over him and pulled the wire to ring the [stop requested] bell. The bus slowly pulled to a stop, and she motioned for him to follow her. They walked down the street lined with small shops--pharmacy, fruit market, confectionery and at the end stood the flower shop.

"What are you getting?" Leon asked, curious.

"Orange poppies," Catherine said with a smile, "They were his favorite."

She handed the cashier a few bills, turned to Leon and nodded. "It's just a short walk from here."

The two passed row after row of gravestones, before stopping at a large, rose-colored headstone in the second to last row.

"This is the one?" Leon asked.

Catherine nodded her head yes.

MARION STEWART STANLEY BELOVED August 12, 19XX - February 17, 20XX

Catherine laid the bouquet of flowers in front of the stone, placing a hand on the corner.

"Hey Grandpa," she quietly said, standing up. "Sorry for not visiting when I usually do...A lot's happened..."

She felt Leon's hand hold hers, and they exchanged smiles before she looked back down at the stone.

"There's someone I want you to meet."

[elizabethplaid]

start off on a good (daily) note - Jan 1, 2023

Braided my hair into pigtails after my shower last night; rebraided this morning. Gotta figure out where I stashed my bobby pins, so I can have milkmaid braids later. These pigtails are pretty long.

Been wearing my new knit cowl today. Very warm, so I have to take it off before too long. Wish the shoulders were longer, covering more of my shoulders. Maybe I’ll look into capelet patterns. I saw a really simple one that I liked, in a magazine, but it didn’t cover the neck. (It was intended for a summer bridal ensemble.)

Yesterday, I measured Ideal Harmony for socks, mittens, and a hat. Hat is the first goal; easy task. Mittens may be fiddly, because her fingers are curled and splayed. Socks will be if/when I recover from mittens. They might just be leg warmers, since I have her in a body stocking that covers her feet.

[ben-the-hyena]

It's funny how the more we look at it the more the Dastardlys are ACTUALLY seen as handsome or charismatic in universe, the Scoob! Movie didn't pull his new hot looks out of its ass (yes Velma and Daphne call him ugly but they are teen and he looks too much like a dad to Daphne and they hate him lol even Fred is still troubled after having found out he was the hot cop, "mixed feelings"). They have a decent success, even quite impressive in some admirers they could get

The fact Dick the 1st and Dick the 2nd got wives and got laid to have children aside (ESPECIALLY SINCE THAT MAGAZINE DID CONFIRM THAT YES HANNA BARBERA CHARACTERS DO HAVE A SEX LIFE THERE IS NO STORK), Dick the 1st has that milkmaid who was running after Zilly for a whole episode forget about him when seeing Dick and going after him after that, as if there was no doubt he DID have looks, . Dunno if it counts but let's add in the realistic Dastardly and Muttley comics where even if it is a very, VERY different continuity, that Zee has a secret crush on him too (now I wonder if normal Zilly does too). And indeed he doesn't look too bad with normal proportions even if once again he is not truely him and it's a different continuity

Now the fact that Treasure Hunt Dick is Dick the 1st or Dick the 2nd is up to people, but whoever it is (I personally make it Dick the 2nd before he got in the races and was a pilot like his dad first for Fender Bender and the long time old rivalry with Yogi from Yo Yogi), he manages to attract 2 Geishas as well as an opera singer. And even precises he doesn't kiss on the first date in another episode so he does have dates whoever it is. And if Dickie from Yo Yogi is just as ambiguous let's put him here, but it would be fun to imagine Roxie and him ever went somewhere but eh not canon

Anyway Dick the 2nd attracted the most of people, even we put the Treasure Hunt and Yo Yogi personas aside. He almost got married with a girl named Ophelia, and mentions he has an ex ladyfriend who used to call him pussycat (even if I HC it IS Ophelia), "an" ex lady friends so he does have more than once. He attracted an aligator even when she found out he was not an aligator, and we all found out yesterday that Penelope DOES fancy him in secret which means that HE managed to attract the most attractive girl in universe, and yet he doesn't seem to care lmao. In the comics a woman even says she loves his moustache, that must do all the magic (good tastes) And even when he is crossdressed he is being flirted with by 4 guys, so he must be handsome enough to be fuckable even by guys

So people just hate them only for a lack of fashion and for being jerkasses which is valid. But they are seemingly hot in universe

And it is apparent too with dick the 4th who must be even more attractive in universe since just like Scoob!Dick looks good and more proportionate to us !

And Desdemona, despite having a moustache Muttley DID date her for a moment (WHICH IS CREEPY TO KNOW HE FUCKED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE HIS OWNER, WHAT DOES IT MEAN !?)

And then there is the case of Dick the 3rd. Always called ugly by everyone, rejected, slapped and pushed away, Penelope gags at the ideq of being with him and Agent Z says he disgusts her, and he has a huge virgin energy radiating out of him he probably never dated anyone. So why !? Well I would say his dumb fashion choices and haircut and moustache and his depression (and genes) making him older looking (he doesn't seem and act like a middle aged man ag all) and self conscious and non-confident at all no matter how much he denies it ; the show does point out in an episode that as soon as he acts confident and calm and classy with another clothing style he suddenly gains a lot of popularity and charisma, and he DOES look good in a suit, with sideburns and another haircut and sans a moustache all the times we see him with those thoughout the show. And given how Pandora seems to be flirty and how in a cancelled season 3 ep the Duchess gives up on Peter as soon as she sees Dick to run after him, it means that that guy is way too much of a loser on the outside and on the inside to use all his charismagic potential, but that if he did efforts and gain confidence he would have as much success as the others

In short, Dick the 3rd :

[nellygwyn]

Just come across this brilliant late 18th century magazine (that only ran for 3 years - 1772 to 1775 - due to the nature of its content) called The Covent Garden Magazine (not to be confused with the Covent Garden Journal). It appears to be a "lads mag," marketed specifically to young men. It's pornographic ofc, with lots of stories about naughty nuns, engravings showing milkmaids getting it on with parsons, and boys writing in to discuss their favourite sex worker but it also includes 'agony aunt' sections, humour, and information about things young men liked to do in their free time i.e. gambling and the theatre. It even included a free supplementary magazine called Annals of Gaming, which described a new card or party game in each issue. It's truly amazing. What makes it even better is that it is primarily made up of things that young men wrote themselves and sent into the editor.

[sciencespies]

Civil War-Era Vaccination Kits Yield New Clues About History of Smallpox Vaccine

https://sciencespies.com/news/civil-war-era-vaccination-kits-yield-new-clues-about-history-of-smallpox-vaccine/

Civil War-Era Vaccination Kits Yield New Clues About History of Smallpox Vaccine

Robert Hicks, then the director of the Mütter Museum in Philadelphia, was giving a tour to a new employee when he peeked in a drawer and spotted them: five Civil War-era vaccination kits, complete with small knife-like lancets, glass slides and scabs from infected humans.

As Elizabeth Cooney reports for Stat News, Hicks immediately realized he had stumbled onto a historical medical treasure, and sent the kits away for further research. This month, a team of researchers at McMaster University in Canada published a completed study of the kits in Genome Biology, revealing new clues about the murky history of the only infectious disease to be successfully eradicated by humans: smallpox.

Smallpox, caused by the variola virus and one of the deadliest diseases in human history, plagued the world since as far back as the third century B.C., as Katherine J. Wu reported for Smithsonian magazine in 2018. The disease killed nearly a third of the people it infected and often left survivors with severe scarring and hearing or sight loss, according to a McMaster statement.

Over the course of the Civil War, both Confederate and Union troops died in the thousands from a number of diseases, including smallpox. At the time, doctors’ only line of defense against the brutal disease was inoculation, as Kat Eschner reported for Smithsonian magazine in 2017. Using kits like the ones Hicks found, doctors would use pus or other infected materials from people with diseases similar to smallpox and apply them to wounds to build up a person’s immunity to the virus.

As Francesca Giuliani-Hoffman reports for CNN, the McMaster scientists did not find any variola virus in the kits. Remarkably, however, they were able to carefully collect fragments of viral vaccine DNA that had been preserved in the scab materials, tools, tins and leather cases of the vaccination kits for more than 150 years, by soaking the items in chemical solutions. Led by researcher Ana Duggan, the team then reassembled the molecules “like a jigsaw puzzle” and sequenced the DNA of five separate viral vaccination strains, reports Donna Lu for New Scientist.

Most notably, the McMaster team discovered that the five vaccine strains used in the Civil War kits were very different from the vaccines used in the 1970s and ‘80s to eradicate the disease, reports Cooney.

“Our Civil War-era vaccines and the vaccines of the 20th century were all vaccinia virus, however (ours) are not identical to any of those later commercial vaccines,” Duggan tells CNN.

“…Medicine and vaccine development are very different today than they were in the 19th century—but it’s evidence that exploring multiple vaccine sources and strategies all have potential,” she continues.

“An overriding concern about vaccine design is how from an evolutionary standpoint—the vaccine strain must be to the one causing disease in order to prevent illness,” McMaster University explains in the statement. This study shows that Civil War-era doctors were using distantly related viruses to provide smallpox protection.

“This work points to the importance of looking at the diversity of these vaccine strains found out in the wild,” Hendrik Poinar, the director of the McMaster Ancient DNA Centre, adds in the statement. “We don’t know how many could provide cross protection from a wide range of viruses, such as flus or coronaviruses.”

The history of the smallpox vaccine can be traced back to English physician Edward Jenner, as Wu reports. In 1796, Jenner performed highly unethical experiments on an eight-year-old boy, James Phipps, after realizing that milkmaids who had suffered from cowpox, a milder relative of smallpox, were seemingly immune to smallpox.

For much of the following century, inoculation became common practice as a way to fend off the disease. Milder viruses related to smallpox were “grown” and then harvested from chains of infected humans, which often involved using women and enslaved Africans as human incubators for disease, according to Stat.

However, much about early smallpox vaccinations remain a mystery, as Wu reported in 2018. For instance, researchers are still uncertain if the modern smallpox vaccine, known as the vaccinia virus, descended from horses or cows.

Jose Esparza, a virologist specializing in historic smallpox vaccines who was not affiliated with the study, tells STAT that this study, while exciting, leaves many questions about the history of the smallpox vaccine still unanswered. “The mystery of the origin and evolution of the smallpox vaccine remains to be solved,” he says.

#News