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karahalloway · 2 months

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 17 - News Flash

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper and the Beaumonts get on a plane to Italy… but they are not riding solo

Word Count: 4,500

Rating/Warnings: M (using the Lord's name in vain, shocking revelations, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: And… we’re back! I know this is a bit delayed, thanks to my new Heaven’s Secret distraction, but I am hoping to refocus myself on this continuously neglected series again for the next few weeks/months so we can make some headway towards wrapping it up. Also, I know we all miss him, and he hasn’t had as much page time as we all (Harper included!) probably want, but I promise that after this chapter there will be a lot more Drake again 🥃

A/N2: Astute readers will probably notice that there is nary a train in sight (in this chapter, or any future ones). This is deliberate because (i) I never understood why PB went in that direction in canon (is a travelling boutique really that important?!), and (ii) trains don’t make sense from a security point of view anyway (apparently the UK’s Royalty and Specialist Protection — which provides close protection to the royal family — used to hate it when Elizabeth II travelled by train, because it was always a massive headache to ensure her safety as trains travel on a fixed route and schedule, with no opportunities for diversion or evasion of things go to pot). So… planes it is ✈️

A/N3: Finally, another special shoutout to @thegreentwin for giving me the inspiration to have a crack at creating the tabloid cover page featured in this chapter. If you have not read The Rebel Prince, please do so! It is cute, funny, insightful and the gossip magazine covers that accompany several of the chapters are something else!

Chapter 17 - News Flash

"I thought we're going to Italy..." I remark the next morning as we pull to a stop on the tarmac of a secluded private airfield.

"We are," confirms Bertrand, jamming a fedora onto his head to protect against the ferocity of the morning sun... and hide the brutal sunburn he managed to acquire as a result of spending the entirety of yesterday's Festival outdoors without any SPF protection.

"Then what's with the literal mountain of luggage?" I ask as we step out of our customary limo.

Bertrand fixes me with a red-faced glare over the roof of the vehicle. "Have you learnt nothing from the social season?"

I throw him a deadpan look. "You mean apart from the fact that you insist on packing everything, including the kitchen sink?"

Maxwell's snort drifts up from the backseat.

The elder Beaumont is not impressed with my clapback. "The engagement tour will be one high-profile event after the other, which means that we will have neither the time nor the opportunity to engage in slap-dash shopping sprees. Not only would such proletarian behaviour be rude, but it would be misguided as well, given that we need to ensure that for each event we abide not just by the formal dress code indicated on the invitation, but also that we do not clash with, or indeed overshadow the hosts — or the King and future Queen, for that matter! — in terms of style and colour, all while being thoughtful in ensuring that we incorporate elements from both local and Cordonian designers to visually showcase the strength of the bonds that knit our respective nations together. On top of all that, it is imperative that we—"

"How the heck is anyone expected to pull all that off?" I blurt in disbelief.

"Through careful planning and coordination," Bertrand declares as he comes to join Maxwell and me on the other side of the limo. "Which is why I have taken the liberty of pre-selecting each outfit for each event of the tour, in consultation with the Palace's Master of the Robes."

My mouth drops. "You... Put a wardrobe together? For me?"

"Yes," comes the diffident affirmation. "Given that all eyes — not just those of our fellow Cordonians, but of our host nations' — will be on us constantly, we cannot afford any fashion faux pas."

I stare at my former sponsor mutely, mouth opening and closing like a dumbfounded goldfish.

Maxwell attempts to diffuse my slap-faced reaction with a jovial grin. "Bertrand used to lay my clothes out for me all the time when we were younger. I know he doesn't look it, but he has excellent—"

I shove an accusatory finger out. "He tried to foist me into a Medieval cosplay dress! That is the exact opposite of excellent taste!"

The elder Beaumont bristles. "It was hardly—"

"And how the hell did you afford all of this anyway?" I interject, throwing my arm out towards the carefully stacked Eiffel Tower of suitcases. "Because last time I checked, you were flat broke!"

Bertrand's already ruddy complexion darkens further. "There is no need for you to concern yourself with—"

"How?!"

After the way Maxwell had tried to sell covert photos and Christian and me from New York to the press in a bid to make bank, I am not willing to take any kind of half-baked deflection when it comes to the Beaumonts and money. I've been used one too many times for someone else's gain, so my trust is virtually non-existent at this point.

Bertrand swallows thickly as he averts his eyes. "I... I may have made recourse to an old sewing machine I found in the attic..."

My eyes just about pop out of my head. "You what?!"

I'd expected any one of six million other explanations — he'd sold the vineyard... remortgaged Ramsford... auctioned off every last chair and curtain from the manor... Even offered his soul to the literal Devil...

But using a sewing machine...? To make actual clothes...?

I had obviously caught the sun yesterday as well, and am now suffering from heat stroke...

"Bertrand has always been interested in fashion," explains Maxwell with a perfectly straight face. "He even wanted to enroll at the world-renowned Istituto Marangoni International in Milan to study Fashion Design. But then our father took unexpectedly ill, and—"

"Yes, yes..." interjects Bertrand with an embarrassed wave of his hand. "No need to revisit broken dreams and unfulfilled promises. The point is that I made the best use of what meagre funds and resources we had at our disposal to curate a serviceable selection of outfits for each of us. With a little help from Maxwell, of course."

"I was the mannequin," he declares proudly. "I admit, I got poked a few times in the line of duty, but it was worth it. Bertrand did a stellar job – you're going to love what he made for you."

"I... I don't know what to say..." I admit faintly.

And here I'd been thinking that Bertrand's closet Harry Potter obsession had been a big reveal...

"Yes... Well..." Bertrand clears his throat uncomfortably. "We each have our unique talents. Speaking of... I trust you have been practicing your Italian?"

I frown. "My what?"

"You were supposed to give her lessons!" cries Bertrand, smacking his brother over the back of the head.

Maxwell's retro '60s sunglasses fly off his face. "My Prada’s...!"

"What about French?" Bertrand demands, rounding on me with all the intensity of a furious tomato on the verge of exploding.

"Allard and Schweitzer have been teaching—"

"Some initiative at last!" exclaims Bertrand, throwing his hands up in the air in deliverance. "Good — you'll have some semblance of a basis, then. However, while both languages share a common root — that being Latin — and a border, as a result of roughly fifteen centuries of historical and linguistic divergence, Italian has become markedly different from its Gallic cousin, so we will have our work cut out in making you even semi-proficient by the time we land in Rome. So, I hope you brought pen and paper with you."

My shoulders slump as I watch Bertrand stride off towards the waiting plane. "Great..."

There goes the next hour and a half of my life...

"I knew I had forgotten something..." admits Maxwell, rubbing the back of his head as he retrieves his sunglasses from the tarmac. "But I thought it was just my second favourite pair of boxers."

"It's fine..." I assure wearily him as I begin my own trudge towards the jet. "It wouldn't be a true Beaumont travel experience without a droning Bertrand lecture..."

Though I guess it could be worse. I could be stuck on the royal jet with Christian and Madeleine. Which — after what happened yesterday — would be like staging an aristocratic rendition of Squid Game... 20,000 feet in the air. So, on that basis, I'll willingly subject myself to Bertrand's monologuing any day of the week, if it means I can—

"And there she is..." remarks a familiar, though very much unexpected voice as I step onto the plane. "The woman of the hour."

Jerking my head to the right, my eyes land on Olivia, lounging on one of the cream-coloured leather seats, her killer spike stiletto boots dangling over the armrest as she casually peruses a broadsheet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in disbelief.

Olivia lowers the paper to meet my eye with a quirked brow. "You mean, on my own aircraft?"

I cast a glance in Bertrand's direction as I make my way down the gangway. "Guess your meagre funds and resources didn't extend to sourcing jet fuel?"

Bertrand coughs evasively as he stores his briefcase in the overhead locker. "Since we are all heading in the same direction anyway, Lady Oliva was kind enough to—"

"Shut it, Beaumont," Olivia snaps. "I am doing this as a personal favour, not an act of charity. As Lord knows that I wouldn't normally tolerate sharing recycled air with this many people in a confined space. So, if you want to stay on this plane, you will save the histrionics for the Italian President."

Bertrand promptly clamps his mouth shut to sink into his seat without another word.

"Wow..." I say, settling in across from Olivia. "He must've been really desperate to come to you for help... No offence."

"None taken," she replies with a breezy shrug as she flips the broadsheet closed and nods to the cabin attendant. "Because the request didn't come from the Beaumonts."

My head snaps up in surprise. "Then who?"

She regards me for a long moment, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she lets out a resigned exhale. "Drake."

My jaw hits the floor. "What!"

Olivia scrunches her mouth up ruefully. "He twisted my arm into agreeing to look out for you while he's off playing desert soldier."

I stare at her. "How in the world did he—?"

Maxwell thrusts his head 'round the back of Olivia's seat. "Drake's playing video games! Instead of coming to Italy?”

The Duchess of Lythikos shoves the intruding face away with the palm of her hand. "No, you imbecile! Drake's gone to Dubai." Glancing at me she adds, "I presume they know?"

"They do now," I concede with a sigh.

Thanks to the slew of quick-fire developments at yesterday's Festival, followed by the rabid packing to get ourselves ready for the international leg of the tour, I haven't had a chance to bring the Beaumonts up to speed with everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours.

But they're bound to find out about Drake's last-minute side-trip at some point, so this is as good a time as any to level with them.

Maxwell’s mouth drops with an aghast look. "But I didn't hit him that hard!"

Olivia quirks a brow at me.

"Long story, don't ask," I tell her wearily. Glancing up at Maxwell, I add, "He's gone after Tariq. Bastien found him hiding out on some rich cousin's yacht out in the bay."

"Oh." Maxwell scratches his head abashedly. "That makes more sense..."

"How do you put up with these two?" asks Olivia with a shake of her head as Maxwell sinks back into his seat.

I give her a shrug. "They have a weird way of growing on you..."

"Like some deadly fungus..." she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

"I heard that!" objects Maxwell from behind her.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't eavesdrop, then!" she throws over her shoulder snidely. Turning back to me, she adds, "And speaking of funguses, you can remind your boyfriend when he gets back that you both owe me. Big time."

My gaze darts to hers. "I— We're not—"

"Thank you for confirming it," she interjects with a sly smile. "But also, I'm not an idiot. It's obvious to anyone with a set of eyes that the fool is in love with you... and you with him. It's all quite disgusting, really..."

I feel my cheeks redden. "So, why help us, then?"

She heaves a low breath. "Because you stuck your neck out for me when you didn't have to. Despite everything I did to try and undermine you during the season. And because we have a common enemy."

She tosses the broadsheet that she'd been reading over to me.

Catching the copy of the Cordonia Sun before it has a chance to slide off the table between us, I glance down...

...and my heart sinks as I take in the unflattering picture of myself seemingly facing off against Madeleine under the sensationalist headline.

I shove the paper angrily away. "Hey. I didn't start it..."

"And yet you somehow always manage to find yourself in the middle of it, don't you?" she counters with an arched brow as the jet revs its engines for take-off. "The half-nude pictures... The Beaumonts' financial troubles... The speculations about the real reason Christian gave you a duchy... I mean, even the Duchess of Sussex would have a hard time competing with you when it comes to front-page scandals."

"And you think Madeleine is behind it all?" I ask tightly, indicating the tabloid.

"She would certainly have a lot to gain from waging a targeted media campaign against you," Olivia affirms. "She isn't married to Christian yet, and after what happened with Leo, she no doubt feels threatened by your continued presence at court. So, discrediting your integrity in the eyes of the Council would help her ensure that Christian can never formally pick you over her to become Queen."

"Because she doesn't know I turned him down..." I grumble dejectedly as the plane pulls into the air.

"And certainly would not believe you if you told her, either," she adds. "But she is not the only one with something to lose."

I sit up straighter. "You mean there are other suspects?"

"Yes," she nods. "Namely Godfrey and the Queen Mother."

Bertrand erupts from his seat at the mention of the two names. "That is an outrageous accusation! The Queen Mother would never—!"

"Madeleine is her niece," counters Olivia flatly. "Given that she has no children of her own, she practically treats that golden-haired harpy as if she is her heir. And since she was the one who brokered the original marriage contract between Leo and Madeleine, she clearly doesn't want all that work going to waste."

I frown. "But if everything was in place already, why have a social season at all? Why not just sub out Leo's name for Christian's in the contract?"

"To give Christian the illusion of choice."

My jaw drops. "You're not serious..."

"It would have been in poor taste to simply swap one prince out for another," Olivia advises. "Leo hadn't died... merely abdicated. But that decision nevertheless rocked the kingdom to its core."

"It's true," supplies Maxwell, leaning around with a mouth full of jelly worms. "The headlines were vicious."

"So..." I muse with a frown. "The Palace needed a distraction?"

"Yes," Oliva affirms seriously. "To draw attention away from Constantine's failing health."

"Wait," I cut in. "Constantine is dying?"

Olivia nods. "Prostate cancer. By all estimates, he has less than a year to live."

"Oh, my God..." I gasp, hand flying to my mouth. "No wonder Christian didn't want to talk about it..."

"The Palace is under strict instructions to keep the whole thing tightly under wraps..." she explains. "At least until after the coronation and wedding are both out of the way. They don't want the news to overshadow the first few critical months of Christian's rule."

"So, how did you find out?" I query.

She cuts her eyes over at me. "Like I said at the Masquerade Ball... Christian and I share a special connection. There are no secrets between us. Also – look at who you're talking to. I have files on each of the suitors from the social season. You seriously think I wouldn't know about something as vital to the functioning of the kingdom as the state of the King Father's health?"

"I guess not..." I concede, still trying to process this bombshell. "But how does giving Christian an illusion of a choice during the social season help cover up Constantine's cancer?"

"In the wake of Leo's abdication, support for the Rys family fell to an all-time low. The press started to question Constantine's policies, and the direction that the kingdom has been heading over the past few decades, implying that the country's current trajectory was unsustainable... and uncorrectable."

"I remember reading something about that on the flight from New York..." I recall. "There were suggestions that Leo abdicated because he didn't believe in the future of the monarchy."

"Which wasn't the case at all," she cautions. "But the Palace was worried that such intense media scrutiny would unearth evidence of Constantine's ill health... which would in turn intensify the calls from the republican factions of the country to abolish the system of hereditary rule completely. So, in a desperate bid to reunite the people behind a common cause, and shore up support for the monarchy, the Palace decided run the season again."

"But why?" I ask, still not seeing the connection.

"To charm the country with the fairytale of a royal romance," denotes Olivia sourly. "Because people apparently go ga-ga for that shite..."

Bertrand narrowly avoids choking in his seat across the aisle. "That is a crude and absolutely salacious interpretation of—!"

I whirl across the aisle. "Wait. You knew about this?"

Bertrand folds his arms across his chest. "I am a serving member of the Council. Of course I knew about the Palace's decision to run the social season again. But to suggest that it was all done simply for the sake of—"

"God, you're thick..." interjects Olivia.

Bertrand blanches. "I beg your pardon?!"

"You've been at court long enough to know that the truth is never the whole truth — there is always some hidden purpose or ulterior motive."

"But to suggest that—"

"The Palace needed a believable story — one that could capture the public's imagination — while still serving the needs of the kingdom," Olivia states. "A story of duty and love."

"Between Christian and Madeleine?" I ask sceptically. "But they don't even like each other."

"So?" scoffs Olivia. "The aim was to sell the lie to the populace. Everything else is inconsequential. And can be made to fit the narrative."

"But if you knew all this," I counter, "why did you join the competition?"

"I joined exactly because I knew the season was a sham," she replies heatedly. "To give Christian a genuine choice... not just the one that everyone else was determined to steer him towards."

"Because you love him..."

Olivia nods tightly. "Yes. And I knew it was a long shot. But even if he wouldn't end up being able to choose me — Regina would've made sure to stack the Council votes in her favour — at least I could be there to support him... as a friend."

I feel my heart go out to her, knowing from personal experience how difficult it is to be in a situation where you desperately want to be with someone, but can't because of circumstances that are outside of your control.

"But then, of course..." adds Olivia, once again with her customary breeziness, "you show up from out of nowhere with your hideous accent and relatable backstory—"

"Hey!"

"—and the whole country — Christian included — loses their collective minds. With the result that Regina's plan to make her niece Queen begins to unravel at the seams."

"Which is why she decided to set me up..." I surmise heavily as the jet levels off.

It's been fairly obvious from the start that I'm not Regina's favourite person... But the knowledge that she'd go to such lengths to publicly blacklist me? That's just inexcusable.

"You have no proof of that!" objects Bertrand, butting in again.

"Not directly, no," Olivia admits. "But all the evidence we have to date fits. The money Tariq received for his involvement came from a numbered account located in Switzerland. The blackmail letters distributed at the Coronation Ball were printed on Palace stationery. And as far as motives go, the Queen Mother would have more reason than most to influence the outcome of the social season."

"I cannot believe I am hearing this...!" decries Bertrand with a shake of his head. "The implications alone would be—"

"Ruinous to the Rys family," confirms Olivia. "I am aware. Which is why we must tread carefully in order to avoid tarring Christian with any of this. The monarchy would not survive the ensuing scandal."

"What about this other guy?" I ask. "Godfrey? How does he fit into this?"

Olivia throws her hands up. "Lord, you're more clueless than him!"

"Excuse me for not knowing every single Cordonian nobleman by name," I snark back. "I've only been a duchess for a day..."

"I'll send you my files," Olivia huffs wearily. "All two hundred of them."

My eyes widen. "There's two hundred—?"

"There's more, but those are the important ones," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And if you want to be an effective duchess, I suggest you study up because you need to have the entire contents of those dossiers memorised and ready to deploy in any given conversation."

"Sweet Jesus..." I gasp faintly, making recourse to Drake's favourite invective, as it certainly fit the magnitude of the task Olivia has just dumped on me.

"You didn't grow up in this world, so you have a lot of catching up to do," Olivia shrugs unabashedly.

"Yeah, I'm very much aware of that..." I concede dryly, rubbing my temples. "So, who is this Godfrey?"

"The Third Earl of Huntford, and Duke jure uxoris of Krona."

My brows furrow in recollection. "Krona... Does that mean he's—?"

"He's Madeleine's dad," supplies Maxwell, popping his head into the aisle again, this time in the company of a CapriSun juice pouch.

My eyes widen. "The man at the garden party! But what does he have against me? I've never even met him!"

"The fact that you are still here..." offers Olivia blandly. "Competing against his daughter for the attentions of the King."

"It's not exactly a competition," I scoff. "I'm not trying to steal him away from her."

"Except that isn't how the press is portraying it," counters Olivia pointedly, tapping the front page of the Sun.

I open my mouth again, but quickly shut it, realising that Olivia is right. As regardless of my personal reasons for being back at court — as the Royal Consort, no less! — the view from the outside presents very differently. And given that Madeleine herself clearly feels threatened by my continued presence at Christian's side, it's no small jump to imagine that her father — who, based on what I saw at the garden party a few days ago, is just as power-hungry and image-conscious as his daughter — would also feel the same.

"Crap..." I huff, falling back into my seat dejectedly.

"Not the most elegant of phrasing," muses Olivia. "But certainly succinct."

"What am I going to do?" I ask morosely, starting up at the cabin's air vents.

"Help me gather as much proof as we can during the course of the tour," Olivia instructs. "So we can narrow down our suspect list... or indict all three of them. In either case, we will be more effective if we work together."

"That plan is akin to sedition!" cries Bertrand, clearly aghast by the very suggestion. "Bordering on treason! All of us are in enough hot water already without—"

"Which is why it is imperative that no word of anything that we have just discussed leaves this aircraft," declares Olivia with a steely look. "Or I will personally hunt you down and turn your face inside out."

I gulp at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "What... What about the staff? Can you trust them?"

"They are all Lythikosians," Olivia states. "Who have sworn blood-oaths to House Nevrakis. They would never dare betray me."

"Good to know..." I admit, watching the cabin attendant re-appeared with a selection of drinks, and wondering if underneath her uniform she is as armed to the teeth as Olivia supposedly is.

"I presume the same goes for your beefcakes?" asks Olivia, nodding her chin towards the back where Allard and Schweitzer have taken up residence for the duration of the flight.

"Yes," I confirm. "I trust them with my life."

She dips her head in approval. "Good. So, as first order of business, I suggest—"

"Can we tell Hana?" interjects Maxwell, bobbing up from behind Olivia again. "She's helping us, too!"

Olivia heaves a breath. "Yes, fine. But—"

I hold up a hand. "And Drake will probably want t—"

"Yes, fine!" she snaps irately. "Anyone else? Your maternal grandmother, perhaps?"

I bite my bottom lip as I peek up at her. "Do we tell Christian?"

Olivia holds my gaze for a long moment. "No. Not until we have concrete proof. One way or another. He has enough crises to manage right now without lumbering him with a major constitutional one as well."

I nod in understanding. The mere suggestion that his godmother and future father-in-law have been conspiring to put Madeleine on the throne (potentially with his fiancée's own buy-in!) would be soul-destroying. Which is why we need to find that smoking gun — ideally several — before we present our accusations.

"Not sure if it will be of any help at all," I say, "but Ana de Luca managed dig up some information on the freelance photographer Tariq was working with on the day of the Jamboree."

"Did you bribe her with another exclusive?" chaffs Olivia dryly.

"We'll need someone to help us set the record straight," I affirm. My shoulders slump suddenly. "But I gave the flash-drive to Drake."

"Which he gave to me," smirks Olivia, pulling the device from the pocket of her jacket.

I gape at the piece of plastic in her hand. "Drake really trusts you, huh?"

"More than most," she shrugs coyly, flipping the drive over to me.

I catch it with both hands. "We should review whatever is on here. Who knows? Maybe the photographer is part of the press corps covering the tour."

"I have my laptop with me," Maxwell offers. "I was going to use it to mix some tunes, but—"

"You'll only get one chance to unravel a high-stakes aristo racket!" I quip, dangling the drive between my fingers.

"God, your incessant American optimism is stomach-turning..." Olivia groans. "And you've clearly spent too much time with Walker."

"Hey," I hit back. "This is the best lead we've gotten yet. We shouldn't discount it. This photographer could be key to linking Regina and/or Godfrey to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season."

"Assuming you can find them..." counters Olivia. "And get them to talk."

I meet her eye with a level look. "Good thing that's your area of expertise, isn't it, Duchess?"

The corner of her mouth lifts craftily.

"But what about Harper's Italian!" disparages Bertrand. "We'll be landing in less than an hour, and she still doesn't know the proper way to greet the President in his native tongue without insulting him!"

I swallow a groan. "Do I really need t—?"

"Being able to carry a conversation with the Head of State in Italian will go a long way in demonstrating to both the public and the press that you are serious about your new role as Duchess of Valtoria," he advises frankly. "And will score you some much-needed diplomatic points with our hosts as well."

"Guess we have our work cut out for us, then," I accede with a sigh. "Any chance for some coffee?"

"Turkish, Irish, or Sicilian?" asks Olivia.

"Which is closest to a latte?"

"Probably the Sicilian," she advises. "If you make it into a granita di caffe."

"I'm feeling Italian already!" I gibe in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

Bertrand groans loudly from his seat. "Oh, Dio..."

The story continues in Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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houseofbrat · 19 days

Text

Timeline of events, Part 1

22 DECEMBER 2023: Rebecca English and Camilla Tominey & Hannah Furness post stories regarding Will & Kate making an official visit to Italy but won’t visit the Pope.

25 DECEMBER 2023: Kate attends the Christmas Day service in Sandringham with the BRF, including George, Charlotte, & Louis.

28 DECEMBER 2023: Convoy spotted heading in the direction of King Edward VII's hospital at 20:30 on twitter.

29 DECEMBER 2023: Kensington Palace posts 2023 montage on instagram and twitter.

09 JANUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace posts tweet wishing Kate a Happy Birthday.

William uses Kensington Palace twitter to acknowledge the passing of JPR Williams.

10 JANUARY 2024: Russell Myers has an “exclusive” regarding Will & Kate’s military trip to Europe in February 2024.

11 JANUARY 2024: William travels to hand out CBEs to Rob Burrow and Kevin Sinfield.

16 JANUARY 2024: Kate is (allegedly) admitted to The London Clinic on this day.

17 JANUARY 2024: KP announces Kate had successful “planned abdominal surgery” the day prior.

Buckingham Palace announces King Charles will be treated for a “benign prostate condition.”

18 JANUARY 2024: William is photographed leaving The London Clinic.

20 JANUARY 2024: Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says that Kate was hospitalized on 28 December 2023.

Roya Nikkhah reported that Kate’s 30 charities & patronages were not notified until one week before her surgery regarding future engagements.

24 JANUARY 2024: People magazine: “Within their broader circle of family friends, there had been no indication that anything was wrong, and the carefully guarded news about Kate’s situation came as a surprise even to those who work closely with the royal family, PEOPLE understands.”

The Mirror published a story saying “The Princess of Wales "could be your best friend one minute” and “your worst enemy” the next, according to a royal expert.“

Later changed to be a story about Prince Harry.

25 JANUARY 2024: Matt Wilkinson & Harry Goodwin of The Sun report that William has visited Kate in the hospital every day while George, Charlotte, & Louis see their mom, Kate, via FaceTime.

26 JANUARY 2024: King Charles visited Kate while she was in The London Clinic after he was admitted for his BPH procedure. Queen Camilla visits The King in the hospital.

27 JANUARY 2024: Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

28 JANUARY 2024: Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says Kate is in a coma.

29 JANUARY 2024: Kate leaves The London Clinic but is not photographed leaving. William is not photographed at The London Clinic. Kate’s personal assistant is photographed driving away from The London Clinic with a large bouquet in the passenger’s seat.

Statement issued by Kensington Palace.

King Charles is discharged from The London Clinic.

01 FEBRUARY 2024: Kate Mansey & Simon Hunter of The Times report that an unnamed Kensington Palace spokesperson deny Concha Calleja’s claim that Kate is in a coma.

02 FEBRUARY 2024: Concha Calleja stands by her "coma” story.

05 FEBRUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace announces that King Charles has cancer, the specific diagnosis has not been revealed as of today.

James Sweetnam & Matt Jackson of Express quote an “expert” that says Kate could take up to nine months to recover.

06 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla photographed leaving Clarence House.

07 FEBRUARY 2024: Prince Harry flies to UK to see King Charles.

James Middleton shares a video of his family in the Alps on instagram.

Prince William does his first engagement, an investiture, since Kate’s announced hospitalization.

William attends the London Air Ambulance Charity gala with Tom Cruise. “I’d like to take this opportunity to say thank you, also, for the kind messages of support for Catherine and for my father, especially in recent days. It means a great deal to us all.”

09 FEBRUARY 2024: Richard Eden reports Will & Kate and kids travel to Anmer Hall in Sandringham for half-term break.

10 FEBRUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace posts a thank-you message from King Charles.

11 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla are photographed attending church in Sandringham. No photos of Will, Kate, or their children attending church.

13 FEBRUARY 2024: Photos of Pippa (Middleton) Matthews vacationing with her husband, James, and children in St. Barts hit the Daily Mail.

King Charles & Queen Camilla arrive back in London at Clarence House.

16 FEBRUARY 2024: Writer Gareth Russell posts on Facebook that Kate has been seen outside at Sandringham, and no one took a picture.

17 FEBRUARY 2024: Richard Eden on twitter regarding school visit by Will & Kate with George.

18 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla attend church in Sandringham.

Prince William attends the BAFTAs.

19 FEBRUARY 2024: School begins again at Lambrook for George, Charlotte, and Louis.

20 FEBRUARY 2024: William, The Prince of Wales, releases a statement regarding Gaza and the Middle East.

21 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles meets with Prime Minister Rishi Sunak at Buckingham Palace.

Photo exclusive of Pippa and her children in St Barts for the Daily Mail.

23 FEBRUARY 2024: Video of King Charles reading get-well cards from well wishers released.

27 FEBRUARY 2024: William pulls out of King Constantine II of Greece’s service of thanksgiving at Windsor.

Buckingham Palace announces the death of Thomas Kingston, husband of Lady Gabriella Windsor. William’s absence was not related.

28 FEBRUARY 2024: A Kensington Palace spokesperson addresses the “wild conspiracy theories” about Kate in a statement to The Sun: “We were very clear from the outset that the Princess of Wales was out until after Easter and Kensington Palace would only be providing updates when something was significant.”

29 FEBRUARY 2024: Page Six: Kate Middleton’s team is speaking out in light of the conspiracy theories swirling about the Princess of Wales’ whereabouts following her abdominal surgery in January.

“Kensington Palace made it clear in January the timelines of the princess’ recovery and we’d only be providing significant updates,” her rep tells Page Six exclusively. “That guidance stands.”

The flak reiterates that Middleton, 42, is “doing well.”

ET Online: Earlier this week when it was revealed William would be missing his godfather’s memorial service, the Palace told ET that Kate, who underwent abdominal surgery in January, continues to be “doing well.” But with the speculation only intensifying, the Palace released another statement to ET on Thursday.

“We gave guidance two days ago that the Princess of Wales continues to be doing well,” the statement reads. “As we have been clear since our initial statement in January, we shall not be providing a running commentary or providing daily updates.”

Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast: A former royal staffer who still has friends and contacts inside the palace said, “Anyone who expects the palace to suddenly start giving lengthy updates on Kate will be disappointed. The principal aim of her being sequestered is to guard her privacy. I’m sure the press hate it because it is working. There is a really, really small bubble of people who know exactly what is going on.”

Prince William visited a central London synagogue, where Kate had been scheduled to visit on Holocaust Remembrance Day (27 Jan 2024).

Jan Moir on Prince William: One day soon he will be the head of the nation, a focus for national identity, unity and pride. So maybe he should stop behaving like a celebrity flake and reign in that impervious attitude along with his indulgent fondness for obsessive secrecy. If this is a sign of what is to come when he ascends the throne, it is very worrying one.

Tom Bower says Kate’s condition is more serious than has been reported previously.

(update from previous timeline here)

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srorgana1 · 5 months

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Picture Perfect

Rock Star Kylo Ren/Reader

Warnings: Expecit Sexual Content, Marriage, HEA 🥰

Epilogue to Into The Reverb, requested by the lovely @ladyzimmerman

“Hold on Kylo” Patrice says, powdering his forehead and cheeks lightly “there ya go.” You look between them confused. What is happening? Kylo seems to sense it, side eyeing you. “Don’t worry baby girl it’s a surprise” he says as Patrice fixes his collar, exposing more of his tattoos.

Your lip quivers as you bite it. You have no real reason to be anxious but yet, yay anxiety. You try to stave off the incoming invasion of irrational thoughts. Should you be doing this? Is it too soon? Yes, the single is a hit on YouTube but is it really enough to warrant having an interview and photoshoot with Revolver Magazine? You didn’t honestly think so but the studio felt otherwise.

“Hey Y/N” a feminine voice says, rudely but thankfully interrupting your impending spiral. You look up to see your stylist for today looking at you, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised and blush brush in her hand. Your cheeks heat up instantly. “Sorry Patrice, what did you say?” you say, hoping she won’t judge you too much.

She chuckles, giving you a soft smile as she puts down her brush. “I said you are done and wanted your opinion on it but obviously you have other things on your mind.” “Is it that obvious?” you mumble as you look down at your newly manicured hands clutching your phone. The dark wine colored stiletto nails make your hands look like they don't belong to you.

“Babe, it's okay. This is a celebration of you and your achievements. No one is here to bring you down” she says softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You know what I see? I see a hot badass bitch who stood up to the industry, gave it a big fuck you and then turned it on it’s head for the better, all the while snagging the hottest man in the scene.” You feel your blush deepen at her multiple compliments.

You know she is right. The lawsuit against First Order Records and the residual fallout did revolutionize the music industry. It exposed the over control the big corporate labels had over their artists and how they were unfairly compensated for their hard work. Many artists took the opportunity to jump ship and sign on with smaller studios where they had more freedom and control of their art. Fans were divided, but most of them loved that their favorite artists had a say now.

D'Kar had been growing by leaps and bounds, opening two new studios in Miami and New York. You had gone and helped Chewie get the Miami office off the ground, signing up and coming artists at every turn. You really enjoyed talking with them, learning about their unique viewpoints on music. It was fascinating.

The Knights of Ren continued to be successful as well, winning best new album at the Billboard Music Awards and Heavy Music Awards. You traveled with them to the UK for the awards show, smiling like a fool when they performed Never Giving Up live. The media presence was intense, requesting interviews but you declined stating you were there to support them.

When you returned back home, Kylo quickly asked you to move in with him. He didn’t make it a huge deal, just saying there was no point in being apart. You accepted and offered Rae your place, knowing it was bigger than her current place and would be the perfect spot for her to raise Kayla. You and Kylo took your time and ultimately made his place a home, a perfect mix of the two of you.

You continue to be KOR’s senior producer, assisting them in developing new ideas and music. Their newest album is due for release in March but their newest single, a collab with Horizons and AntiChri$t, a dark trap/Hip-Hop artist from Echo Station Records, was currently blowing up the charts. You loved watching Kylo work, always amazed at how he weaves himself into each note.

So when he caught you one evening toying with a song idea, he pushed you to try. You did after much coaxing and through the support of D’Kar and The Knights you released an acoustic song online. It was simple but full of meaning and emotion. Kylo and Vic of course didn’t take no for an answer and played the musical accompaniment on the video as well as the subsequent recording.

You had never been so nervous in your life as you were that day, setting off a severe panic attack. Kylo held you tight, talking you through your breathing exercises. You begged him to call it all off, saying you weren’t ready but he refused. He showered you in loving kisses, telling you how worthy you were and how much you deserved this.

Kylo. Your heart warmed at the thought of him. Your amazing, goofy, sexy but sweet, talented man. You love him so much and you thank the stars every day for him. “Yeah you're right, I know I’m luckier than most” you say, giving her a small smile. She smiles back as she grabs her hairspray.

“If it means anything my Arielle loves your song, she says it's really deep” she says as she spritzes and does her finishing touches. You never expect it to blow up the way it did. It felt good to know your song is touching multiple age groups. It was a perfect example of how music was truly something everyone can enjoy.

“Well if you want I can say hi to her if you want” you offer. “Really?” she says with wide eyes “no no that’s too much. I think just a picture with you will be enough. Are you okay with that?” You smile and look at her through the mirror knowing you two are becoming fast friends. “I think I can swing that”.

A knock on the door pulls both your attention. “Are you decent?” a prim English accent says through the door. You laugh and shake your head. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before” you say as he enters. “Yes, that's what I’m afraid of,” he says, sounding uncomfortable.

You giggle softly at the memory of him catching you and Kylo in your hotel room last month. He had squawked about it being lewd and indecent while Cassian laughed his ass off calling him a hypocritical prude. He must be thinking of the same memory because his cheeks reddened as he huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t” he says, the side of his mouth twitched upward. You give him a smug smile, saluting him through the mirror. “You did great Patrice as always” he says, walking up to the two of you and handing her a stack of bills. “Pleasure as always Huxy” she says as she packs up her bags. You stand, tucking in the front of your shirt as you join them.

Patrice must have told Hux about the photo, motioning to the both of you as he raised up her phone. You wrap your hand around her waist and smile, taking a couple photos with her. “Beautiful” he says as he hands her phone back. She smiles warmly and gives you both another quick side hug before slipping out the door.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” he says as the door clicks shut. “I’m okay, just nervous I guess” you respond, your fingers beginning to fidget. “Don’t be, this is the easy part. You killed the interview, now you just have to stand there and look pretty” he says as he phone buzzes. Easy for him to say, you think as his eyes darken and eyebrows furrow at whatever he reads on the phone.

“Sorry love but I got to go, the assistant will be here in a bit to escort you. You look beautiful and you will kill it” he says quickly as he turns, leaving you alone. You take a breath, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. You wonder what could be so important that would make Hux react like that.

“Fuck I thought he’d never leave” a dark smooth voice from the side, surprising you. You yelp, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. You turn to see Kylo’s head peeking out from the dressing racks, a huge shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Kylo! What the fuck!” you exclaim as you hold a hand to your chest, willing your galloping heart rate to a normal level.

“Sorry baby girl, it was just too perfect” he says, laughing as he ducks his head under the bar, exposing himself at last. You take him in, his fresh white button down and distressed black jeans definitely was not what he was wearing when he dropped you off, but damn did he look good. The soft white cotton fit his broad chest well, the first couple buttons left open to expose his tattoos. You eyes reach his face to notice the hunger in his rapidly dilating eyes. “Hmm” he growls “you look stunning” he says as he takes a step forward, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

The smell of his Tom Ford cologne hits your nose, making you want to melt into him. Damn him. You huff as you school your features, smack him in the chest. “Ow what’s that for?” he says dramatically, suddenly starting to tickle you. You squeal, pushing yourself closer to him to avoid his fingers. “Stop! Stop! Ok Ok!” you giggle “you just scared me is all.” He smiles, his fingers grabbing at your curves as he places a big kiss on the top of your head.

“God I love you” he says, squeezing you lightly as he takes your hand in his. You look up at him and his amber eyes say it all. The amount of love this man has for you still scares you at times. You truly cherish how much he trusts you with his heart. You sigh happily, knowing you will never be alone again.

You look down at the arm wrapped around you, the skin on his wrist still pink and healing. “You know you can cover it up if you want to” you say as your fingers trace one of his newest tattoos. “Why would I do that, beautiful? I got it in honor of the happiest day of my life. If someone doesn’t like well fuck them” he says, kissing your entwined hands. You nod in agreement. It was the happiest day of your life as well.

He holds you close, his cologne and his warm breath on the back of your neck soothing you. You feel him kiss there softly, his facial hair a hard contrast to his plush lips. Your body instantly reacts to his attention, a shot of desire making you shiver. The growl he lets out vibrates through you, further stoking the flames. He grinds his hips against your ass, his cock hardening quickly within its confines.

“Really Kylo? We don’t have time for this” you say, trying to distance yourself from him. Clearly he knows you are literally going to have photographs taken the whole world will see right? His grip tightens, his teeth lightly scraping against your neck. “I need a fix baby” he whispers against your ear, his tip of his tongue tracing the shell.

“We can’t. The assistant..” you gasp, your breath catching as his hand skims over your breasts. “We have ten minutes, I paid him off and I owe Vic a back massage for getting Hux out of here” he says as he spins you around and places you atop the vanity. Your hands slide down his neck as his lips slam into yours, his kisses needy but aggressive. It further ignites your need for him.

His wicked lips torture you, his tongue coaxing moans from you as he shifts your hips up, his fingers working the buttons on your pants. “You have to be quiet for me, baby girl” he says, his fingertips now tracing the top of your underwear. He smiles wickedly as you nod quickly, already desperate for his touch.

He starts kissing your neck, his fingers descending slowly, teasing you further. You gasp as his thick fingers finally reach your pussy. “Fuck me, you’re soaked Y/N” he hisses, his fingers exploring further and pulling your now useless underwear aside. Your grip tightens around his thick muscles as he inserts one finger, pumping slowly.

Damn his fingers. They are always so perfect. He knew from the beginning how to play you to make you delirious for him. You fight to keep your eyes open as the core tightens. “Fuck I love you like this” he growls, slamming two finger inside. He crooks them to hit your g-spot and rubs the heel of his hand against your clit. “Fuck” you whine, your hips shifting more forward.

“Shh, lemme do the work baby. Gotta keep you photoshoot ready. God damn it, this is so fucking hot” he grits out, biting the junction of your neck lightly as resumes his thrusting. You bite your lip to stop your sounds of pleasure. “I feel it baby girl, I feel you winding up. Please baby I need it” he says his voice getting lower and huskier.

Your body responds immediately, your back arching as your orgasm crashes over you. He swallows your moans with his own as you cum all over his fingers. “I love you, I love you” you chant breathlessly, placing your forehead on his as you catch your breath. “I love you more” he responds softly “I’m so fucking lucky.”

“We both are” you say as you take a deep breath, your body clinching as he removes his fingers. “Very true and it’s not just because I get to worship you whenever I want” he says as he licks your arousal off his fingers, his eyes closing in bliss. You fight off another shiver upon watching him. Damn him for being so fucking sexy.

A knock on the door breaks your lust filled bubble. “Kylo?” a shaky voice says “You good?” You look at him as he steps back, offering you his other hand. “One minute” he calls out as you take it, hopping off the vanity and putting yourself back together. You fix a couple flyaways and your mascara, smirking as you see him adjusting himself in the mirror.

“I can take care of that after” you whisper as the door opens, revealing a skittish looking assistant. Kylo places a hand on your lower back, leading you out to the hallway. “I am looking forward to it” he responds, patting your ass lightly. The assistant looks at the two of you nervously. “Lead the way Michael, after the shoot I’ll sign your stuff” Kylo says, running a hand through his hair.

The assistant nods, his face a little less nervous as he leads you both to a large room full of people and equipment. The photographer sits in a directors chair, barking out orders as assistants rush back and forth. Two of them pull you from Kylo and lead you forward to a source of the shouts. “Luke?” one of them says nervously. The orders stop instantly as a pair of blue eyes land on you. “Ms L/N? Pleasure to meet you” a short gray haired man says, offering his hand.

You shake his hand, hoping it’s not too sweaty. “I know you are new at this so here’s the synopsis. We will do pictures standing, on the coach and by the bike. Biggest thing to remember is not to stress, I’m here to lead you through” he says, one hand messing with the camera settings.

“Thanks Luke” you say as you are led in front of the cameras, the assistants hovering as Luke begins barking out orders once again. You try your best to keep your face neutral, not letting the assistants’ stressed energy get to you. “Okay Y/N I think we are good to start” Luke says transferring to the stool next to his chair “take a deep breath for me okay”.

You do so, shaking out your limbs and fixing your shirt once more before getting into position. Arms crossed with a relaxed posture with one hip leaning on the side of the couch. “Perfect” Luke says, camera clicking away. You spot movement behind him, your heart warming to see Kylo standing behind him, a soft look overtaking his features. You smile involuntarily, your nerves lessening when you hear him say “I love you”.

You are led through a couple different positions, both standing and sitting on a black leather couch. They were very professional, with just a hint of sexy. Luke complimented you through it, finally calling for a water break and a background change.

Two assistants rush you, pulling you aside as the couch is removed and replaced by a vintage Harley motorcycle. You smirk at the multiple memories of a very similar one. “Mine’s better that’s for sure” he says as he comes up next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around you. You nudge your hip out to bump his as Patrice fixes your makeup.

He kisses the top of your head, releasing you as Luke calls his name. You watch him wink as he turns and lumbers to the motorcycle, shouting something to Luke. No. No fucking way.

Patrice’s laugh pulls you from your shock at the dramatic turn of events. “What? He didn’t tell you? Figures” she says, trying to compose herself as she fluffs your hair and adjusts your shirt to more off the shoulder look, exposing your collarbone tattoo as you hear camera clicks behind you.

She smiles wide, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “He paid us all to keep this part a secret as a surprise for you. Yes, some are for the magazine, but most are for you two as your wedding photos.” Your eyes widen and begin to water as your jaw goes slack, finally putting it all together.

“Now don’t start that! Don’t make me have to redo my work” she says sternly. You shake your head, laughing at the ridiculousness of all this and how much Kylo fucking loves you. It’s seriously unbelievable. “Hey, you got this, okay babe? Just enjoy the moment” she says, leading you up to your man. You take his awaiting hand, his eyes darkening once more as he takes you in. “Yes Kylo keep that fire” Luke yells “Y/N get closer to him, yes like that.”

You get as close to Kylo as you can, your back to his chest and his arm around your waist. He nuzzles your shoulder in a couple while in others you share soft kisses. “Thank you” you whisper to him when Luke calls for a lighting change. “No need to thank me baby girl. You make me the happiest man on the face of this earth. It’s time the world knows” he says as he kisses you again.

“Alright guys final position” Luke calls out “ okay arms around her Kylo, yep that’s right. Remember left hands exposed and facing out, good perfect” He encircles you, a strong protective shell from the world. You know when you’re here you're safe because your husband will do anything to protect you.

As on cue, Kylo lays his head on your shoulder, his long black hair hiding his face. You feel him leaving kisses on your skin as you turn your head, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head. “Shift your arms down Kylo, yep perfect I can see her tattoo better now” Luke says as the camera rapidly clicks. “I love you Mrs. Y/N L/N-Ren” he whispers into your skin.

See the whole collection including original story:

You can’t help the tears that well up as your fingers caress the raised tattooed roman numerals on his side of his wrist. “Okay perfect guys, now show off the finger tattoos.” Kylo shifts a little bit behind you, raising his head to kiss your check. You hand lays over his, your matching delicate ring finger tattoos and wedding bands facing the camera. “I love you too Mr. Ren” you respond knowing no matter what life gives, you have each other and nothing will never ever break it.

I hope you all enjoyed their HEA, I know I did 🥰❤️ lemme know what you think on here or on A03 ❤️

#adam driver #knights of ren #kylo ren au #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #rockstar! kylo ren #kylo x y/n #kylo fanfic #star wars au #hea #kylo x reader #kylo smut #rockstar au #adamdriver #anxiety disorder #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fluff #Spotify

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isablooo · 5 months

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Since my current comic (Dracula's Guest) is set in the 1890s I couldn't help thinking up an 1890s AU for my Search for Quintessence characters!

info under cut~

So the AU is set in 1890s London

Willow- recently moved from Peru to UK and doesn't really like it here. His family were meant to move to his mum's home in Stockholm but ended up in London (idk how just roll with it) and put off leaving. He works as a gardener but does amateur boxing in his free time - he can fight alright and its extra income! That makes him sound tough but he's honestly a good boy who is just trying to get by.

Assana- shy young girl who's hoping to get into the London School of Medicine for Women. She grew up living along the coast in Whitby (her family are first gen norwegian immigrants) but she moved to London to study. I put her in a classic Victorian sailor outfit since she grew up by the beach!

Orolin- Honestly, I just wanted to draw Orolin as a newspaper boy lol. I think she'd kill that role. But in all seriousness, she's probably be aiming to work as a gardener like Willow! I envision them as neighbours in this AU

Aine- Orthodox Tewahedo nun on a trip to the London with her mother. She's pretty reserved but she's been in the convent since she was small so she's excited to get the chance to travel!

Illuna- French girl who works as a maid for a very rich family - She was employed by them back in Paris but came alongside a lot of the other staff when they moved to London. She loves glamour and loves perusing the latest Parisian fashion magazines that her mistress has shipped in

Ember- rich girl who is the daughter of a politician, often accompanying him on diplomatic visits. She's very sporty so she's almost perpetually in a cycling suit!

#search for quintessence #oc #original character #orolin lành gyldenfeldt #willow merewood #assana fjordland #ember seraphinos #Aïne Alazar #illuna elodie mercier #oc doodles #digital art #1890s AU #myart

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 month

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By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Mar 8, 2024

Today is the fifth anniversary of the publication of Titania McGrath’s acclaimed book Woke: A Guide to Social Justice. I created this intersectional activist and slam poet in order to satirise this new intolerant and authoritarian identity-obsessed religion and its stranglehold on society. Having seen so many posh and entitled activists berating working-class straight white people for their privilege, I could think of no more appropriate reaction than mockery. Even Harry Windsor was at it. And he’s an actual prince.

Five years on, and I cannot decide whether I find it funny or depressing that so many of Titania’s ideas in that book ended up becoming reality. Nothing that Titania was ever able to suggest has not eventually been outdone by real-life activists. It is as though they were reading her book for inspiration.

For instance, in a chapter from Woke entitled “Towards an Intersectional Socialist Utopia”, Titania makes the following observation:

“Capitalism, after all, is a singularly male phenomenon. The ultimate symbol of capitalism, the skyscraper, is nothing more than a giant cock on the horizon, fucking the heavens.”

Sixteen months after the book was published, this article appeared in the Guardian:

Or what about this passage from a chapter in Woke called “White Death”? Here, Titania calls out Hellen Keller for her white privilege:

“Consider, if you will, the example of white American author Helen Keller (1880–1968). Even though she was left deaf and blind following an illness as a baby, she still managed to study for a degree, write twelve books and travel the world to give lectures. This kind of privilege is staggering.”

Compare this with an article that appeared in Time magazine over a year later, in which the author writes:

“However, to some Black disability rights activists, like Anita Cameron, Helen Keller is not radical at all, ‘just another, despite disabilities, privileged white person,’ and yet another example of history telling the story of privileged white Americans.”

And how about this tweet from October 2019, in which Titania had some advice for dog owners:

The subsequent outrage ensured that the tweet went viral. And just a couple of months ago, a leading pet talent agency in the UK called Urban Paws was asking owners whether their cats or dogs identified as “gender neutral” or “non-binary”.

After the backlash, the company claimed that it was a mistake. But the specific addition of a “gender identity” category on an application is hardly the equivalent of a typo.

And what about this article on the website of Vet Help Direct?

And then of course we have PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), the world’s leading animal rights organisation, which posted the following call to arms on Twitter to “end speciesism”:

“Evolve your language. Unlearn how we’ve been taught to think of other animals. They’re NOT an ‘it’ and should never be talked about like objects.”

It’s about time that somebody took a stand for non-binary pigeons.

This is by no means the only example of Titania’s ideas being enacted by woke activists. Here are my top ten examples of when her absurd demands became reality…

On 22 December 2018, Titania called for biological sex to be removed from birth certificates.

On 17 December 2020, the New England Journal of Medicine concurred.

On 1 October 2019, Titania suggested that young women should be encouraged to travel alone in rural Pakistan.

On 12 October 2019, Forbes Magazine concurred.

On 15 October 2018, Titania argued that Winston Churchill was worse than the Nazis.

On 11 February 2021, Churchill College at Cambridge University concurred.

On 19 September 2018, Titania criticised Julie Andrews (aka Mary Poppins) for chimney soot blackface.

On 28 January 2019, the New York Times concurred.

On 29 April 2019, Titania pointed out that scientists have yet to discover the difference between men and women.

On 24 March 2022, USA Today concurred.

On 22 January 2019, Titania called for the Oscars to prioritise diversity.

On 12 June 2020, the Academy concurred.

On 30 January 2019, Titania accused Laurence Olivier of a hate crime for his performance as Othello.

On 9 October 2021, the University of Michigan concurred.

On 2 May 2020, Titania criticised the NHS for appropriating the LGBTQ rainbow flag.

On 6 May 2020, Forbes Magazine concurred.

On 6 June 2019, Titania demanded an option on social media to mute white males.

On 14 July 2020, Instagram concurred.

On 12 September 2019, Titania argued that scientists cannot possibly know whether ancient skeletons are male or female.

On 18 July 2022, gender activists concurred.

Titania McGrath’s Woke: A Guide to Social Justice is available to buy here. It’s also available on audio book and Kindle.

This ideology has become so deranged that it's not possible not parody it anymore. Anything you propose in jest today, they'll take up in sincerity tomorrow. Which shows how performative, directionless and unserious they are.

The Civil Rights and Gay Rights movements had specific aims: eliminate segregation, ensure all laws are race-neutral, that opportunities and resources are available regardless of race, decriminalization of homosexuality, recognition of same-sex partnerships the same as opposite-sex partnerships, including marriage. They were specific, measurable and could be ticked off as they fell.

Woke idiots have no damn clue what they're after. And all they can show us is the stupidest, most petty, most insane non-issues that telegraph to the world they have no real problems to complain about. Elimination of all skyscrapers? A lawsuit over who owns the rainbow? (Fundamentalist Xians would like to get in on that.)

They're just making this crap up as they go along, fighting for who can be the most offended and screaming about their imaginary hurt feelings to garner attention and control.

Why did we ever pay attention to this lunatics?

#Andrew Doyle #Titania McGrath #parody #feminism #intersectional feminism #parody account #LOL #funny #woke #Poe's law #wokeness #cult of woke #wokeism #wokeness as religion #victimhood #victimhood culture #religion is a mental illness

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 year

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Breadcrumbs and Receipts - Meghan tells on herself about the coronation

TL;DR -- The Sussexes haven’t been officially invited yet but have learned their invitation comes with strings attached that they (but especially Meghan) don’t like, given a recent onslaught of Sussex PR tantrums. I believe this indirectly confirms someone at Buckingham Palace has put steps in place to prevent the Sussexes from going rogue at the coronation like they did at the Platinum Jubilee’s service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Disclaimer: At the end of the day, all that will matter is what Charles wants. And Charles is notorious for promising one thing to the public and then doing the reverse.

On March 1, 2023, Buckingham Palace announced that the Sussexes’ lease on Frogmore Cottage will be terminated in June 2023. Omid Scobie spins this as “[b]arred from access to police security, there’s just one space that meets the Sussexes’ security needs when visiting the UK” and calls this a “cruel eviction.”

On March 4, 2023, Meghan’s PR begins to manifest an apartment in Buckingham Palace for the Sussexes.

On March 5, 2023, Scobie wrote for Harper’s Bazaar that “the couple have ‘recently received’ email correspondence from the monarch’s Buckingham Palace household regarding the [coronation].” He further goes on to say that details will be kept “private” and “a royal aide briefed Britain’s Times of London on Saturday that an invitation had been sent out.”

On March 8, 2023, the Sussexes announced that they were claiming Prince and Princess titles for Archie and Lili in a press release sent to People Magazine announcing Lili’s christening.

On March 9, 2023, Marie Claire (a Sussex-friendly publication) publishes this article, citing the demands for the Sussexes to attend the coronation: 1) official recognition of Archie’s birthday, 2) staying at Frogmore Cottage, 3) balcony appearance, and 4) private security details.

What’s really happened here? The Sussexes haven’t been invited to the coronation. Not yet.

First, the coronation is an official state ceremony (though ”state” seems to be debatable these days). This means that the official invitation would not be issued by email. Save-the-dates, additional details, protocol requirements, travel arrangements, confirmations -- that would be issued by email. Not invitations. Invitations would still be issued in the traditional manner, on paper through the mail (overnight priority express mail, most likely).

Second, no one else has confirmed receipt of invitations. Only the Sussexes. If you look back to royal weddings and even The Queen’s funeral, people were announcing their invitations the moment they arrived. That’s not happening now. The official invitations probably still haven’t gone out but everyone who’s going probably already knows they’re going because they’ve also received correspondence from Buckingham Palace about the event.

Third, why are the Sussexes demanding to stay at Frogmore Cottage when they still hold the lease through June? Scobie (and all of the American Sussex-friendly publications but none of the major British publications) claims that Eugenie now lives at Frogmore Cottage. Why does Eugenie living at Frogmore Cottage preclude Harry and his family from staying with her? Surely the cousins can work it out between themselves, especially if Harry is the tenant through June. So technically Eugenie is staying with the Sussexes, which means that the only person Harry and Meghan need to make demands of is Eugenie. Not Buckingham Palace.

This means there’s something greater at play here. The palace’s “correspondence” at the beginning of the month probably wasn’t the invitation. It was probably instructions that included their lodging or accommodations in London should they attend the coronation. And given the tantrums that have happened since then -- leaking of the “cruel eviction,” implying an invitation, claiming Prince/Princess titles, and the Marie Claire demands -- Harry and Meghan were probably told that they could not stay in Windsor and that alternative arrangements in London were being made for them, probably a hotel or guest rooms at St. James’s Palace (where most everyone who lived at Buckingham moved to for the refurbishment).

Why would Charles do that? Well, because of the fiasco at the Platinum Jubilee.

For the jubilee, the Sussexes stayed at Frogmore Cottage in Windsor, which is about 45 minutes away from central London. For the service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Harry and Meghan were meant to meet with the rest of the extended royal family at Buckingham Palace and take the motorcoach over to the cathedral. They were late, missed the motorcoach, and had security take them directly to the cathedral, which led to Harry and Meghan getting virtually their own procession for the service and ultimately resulted in a late start to the service as then William, Catherine, Charles, and Camilla’s arrival was also delayed.

To put it simply: I think we’re seeing indirect confirmation that Charles is forcing the Sussexes to be more “team players” this time around. Meaning, no private, exclusive motorcade to Westminster Abbey for the coronation - they’re getting lumped in with everyone else like they were at The Queen’s funeral. Whether it’s by carriage, car, or motorcoach, they’re going to be “one of the many” rather than “one of the few.” I think we will see a procession for The King and Queen, a procession for The Prince and Princess of Wales that includes the other working members of the family, and a third procession of the remaining family members. Maybe Harry and Meghan can lead the pack, but I think there will be some kind of visible exclusion of the Sussexes separating them from William and Catherine. Especially since Meghan is still trying to negotiate the terms of their attendance at the coronation through her PR.

#breadcrumbs #receipts #rumors #theories #coronation

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louisupdates · 3 months

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tpimagazine Following the success of his record-breaking Live From London livestream, which reportedly raised over £1m for touring and live events personnel and charitable organisations, Louis Tomlinson and his tight-knit crew have toured the world twice over. This time, visiting sold-out arenas in Europe and the UK with a cleverly networked live production with abstract video and lighting and a ‘no frills’ approach to sound, which guaranteed that every ticket holder experienced the same show, regardless of where they stood, sat, or screamed (more on that later). With close to 80 shows under their belt, TPi visited London’s O2 arena ahead of the production’s penultimate date of 2023.

Production Manager, Craig Sherwood and Tour Manager, Tom Allen’s vendors of choice included: Altour (travel), Beat the Street, BPM SFX, CSE Crosscom, Colour Sound Experiment (lighting, rigging, and video), Hangman UK, Boxcat Studio and Two Suns Creative (video content), LED Creative, Ox Event House (custom light housings), Sarah’s Kitchen, Seven 7 Management (artist management), Solotech (audio), Stardes Trucking, and TANCK (production design and video content) 🗣️

Read the full story in the latest issue of TPi via the 🔗 in bio 👆

📸: Justin De Souza

[TPI magazine posted on Instagram 15.1.2024 about Louis Tomlinson’s FAITH IN THE FUTURE WORLD TOUR. Link to the article here and here.]

#tpi magazine #louis tomlinson #fitfwt technicals #15.1.2024

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homomenhommes · 4 months

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … December 13

1912 – England requires flogging for a second violation of the 1898 law prohibiting Gay solicitation.

1913 – Sir John Pope-Hennessy (d.1994), was a British art historian and museum director. He was a scholar of Italian Renaissance art. Many of his writings, including the tripartite Introduction to Italian Sculpture and his magnum opus, Donatello: Sculptor, are now considered classics in the field.

Pope-Hennessy was born into an Irish Catholic family in Belgravia, London, to Major-General Richard Pope-Hennessy and Dame Una Pope-Hennessy (née Birch), who was the daughter of Arthur Birch, Lieutenant-Governor of Ceylon. He was the elder of two sons; his younger brother James Pope-Hennessy, also a homosexual, was a writer of note. At Oxford John was introduced by Logan Pearsall Smith (a family friend) to Kenneth Clark, who became a mentor to the young Pope-Hennessy. Upon graduation Pope-Hennessy embarked on what he referred to as his Wanderjahre, travelling in Continental Europe and becoming acquainted with its great art collections, both public and private.

Pope-Hennessy served as the director of the Victoria and Albert Museum between 1967 and 1973, and then as the director of the British Museum from 1974 until 1976. His nickname to staff was "the Pope".

When his homosexual brother James, (1916-1974) was beaten to death by a lover in 1974, Pope-Hennessy left the British Museum after only three years as director. Pope-Hennessy looked for a change in life venue. Initially he withdrew to Tuscany, but was enticed by an offer from the Metropolitan Museum of Art to head its department of European painting, and moved to New York. He combined this curatorial post with a professorship at New York University's Institute of Fine Arts, and enjoyed mixing with the city's high society.

In New York, Pope-Hennessy met Michael Mallon, a young scholar attending Pope-Hennessy's Frick lectures. Pope-Hennessy secured him an internship at the Metropolitan and Mallon became Pope-Hennessy's life partner. The two retired to Florence in 1986.

Pope-Hennessy died in Florence at age 80 from complications from a liver ailment.

Peter Dorey (L) with Ernest Cole

1947 – Peter Dorey (d.2021) was the co-founder of Gay’s the Word, the first bookshop in the UK dedicated to selling books and magazines for the LGBT+ community.

Dorey founded the shop in Bloomsbury, central London, together with Ernest Hole and Jonathan Cutbill, in 1979. Naming the shop after the Ivor Novello musical, the trio aimed to provide a safe space where LGBT+ people could meet and share a love of books, including many titles that were not available elsewhere.

Peter Dorey was born in 1947 in London to Frederick and Irene Dorey and educated at Preston Manor Grammar School in Wembley. Whilst at the University of Leeds he became interested in broadcasting, working for the student radio station on campus. Upon graduating he joined the BBC as a sound engineer, spending more than 20 years at studios in Belfast and Bristol. It was at a meeting of Gay Icebreakers, a social group, that he and his colleagues came up with the idea of a specialist bookshop for the LGBT+ community, with Dorey providing the funding.

During the miners’ strike of 1984-85, the bookstore became the meeting hub for Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM), a group which raised funds for striking coalminers in south Wales. Their story is celebrated in the film Pride (2014), directed by Matthew Warchus.

As the subject of long-term surveillance and institutional homophobia, Gay’s the Word was raided in 1984 by HM Customs and Excise, which claimed that “indecent or obscene” material was being held there. Thousands of pounds of stock was removed by Customs officers whilst Dorey and his colleagues were charged with conspiracy to import indecent books, under the archaic Customs Consolidation Act of 1876.

Questions in parliament from Chris Smith and Frank Dobson and pressure from campaigners forced a review of the case. A crowdfunding campaign raised £55,000, including £3,000 donated by the author Gore Vidal. Smith came out as Britain’s first openly gay MP a few months later. The charges against Dorey and his co-directors were eventually dropped.

Dorey met Timothy Groom in 1985 and they were partners until Groom's death in 2010

1969 – Allen R. Schindler, Jr. (d.1992) was an American Radioman Petty Officer Third Class in the United States Navy who was murdered for being gay. He was killed in a public toilet in Sasebo, Nagasaki, Japan by shipmate Terry M. Helvey, who acted with the aid of an accomplice, Charles Vins, in what Esquire called a "brutal murder". The case became synonymous with the gays in the military debate that had been brewing in the United States culminating in the "Don't ask, don't tell" bill.

Airman Apprentice Terry M. Helvey, who was a member of the ship's weather department (OA Division, Operations Department), stomped Schindler to death in a toilet in a park in Sasebo, Nagasaki. He was left lying on the bathroom floor until the Shore Patrol and the key witness to the incident (Jonathan W.) carried out Schindler's body to the nearby Albuquerque Bridge. Schindler had "at least four fatal injuries to the head, chest, and abdomen," his head was crushed, ribs broken, and his penis cut, and he had "sneaker-tread marks stamped on his forehead and chest" destroying "every organ in his body" leaving behind a "nearly-unrecognizable corpse" that was only identifiable by the tattoo on his arm. Jonathan W. witnessed the murder while using the restroom. He noticed Helvey jumping on Schindler's body while singing, and blood gushing from Schindler's mouth while he tried to breathe. The key witness was requested to explain in detail to the military court what the crime scene looked like, but would not because Schindler's mother and sister were present in the courtroom.During the trial Helvey denied that he killed Schindler because he was gay, stating, "I did not attack him because he was homosexual" but evidence presented by Navy investigator, Kennon F. Privette, from the interrogation of Helvey the day after the murder showed otherwise. "He said he hated homosexuals. He was disgusted by them," Privette said. On killing Schindler, Privette quoted Helvey as saying: "I don't regret it. I'd do it again. ... He deserved it."

After the trial, Helvey was convicted of murder and Douglas J Bradt, a captain who tried to keep the incident quiet was demoted and transferred to Florida. Helvey is now serving a life sentence in the military prison at the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, although by statute, he is granted a clemency hearing every year. Helvey's accomplice, Charles Vins, was allowed to plea bargain as guilty to three lesser offenses, including failure to report a serious crime and to testify truthfully against Terry Helvey, and served a 78-day sentence before receiving a general discharge from the Navy.

The events surrounding Schindler's murder were portrayed in the 1997 TV film Any Mother's Son. In 1998, Any Mother's Son won a GLAAD Media Award for Outstanding Made for TV Movie.

1975 – Lionel Baier, born in Lausanne, is a Swiss film director. He began his career with a short called "Good Enough To Eat" and two docs: one for Swiss television called The Pastor, the other about gay pride in the Valais.

At 28 he released his first feature, a breakout festival hit, Garcon Stupide, about a confused, uneducated, perpetually frisky 20 year-old named Loic who wants more than the quick tricks he turns with older men on the streets of Lausanne. The marketing department tried to sell Baier's follow-up, Stealth, as another gay romp but the character's main preoccupation is coping with the discovery that his family's background is Polish, which leads to a road trip, which leads to a providential hookup.

In 2009, Baier made Another Man about a straight writer who stumbles into a job as a small-town newspaper movie reviewer For something different, the next year Baier shot Low Cost on his cell phone in a month. Low Cost is a 60-minute drama about a 34 year-old who knows when he's going to die. In 2013 he released Great Waves, his first period drama, set in April 1974 during Portugal's Carnation Revolution.

1990 – Anton Hysén is a Swedish footballer who plays in the Swedish third division for Utsiktens BK, which is coached by his father Glenn Hysén. He is a former member of the Swedish national under-17 association football team and was given a trainee contract with BK Häcken from 2007 to 2009,[3] but was hindered by injuries and instead joined Utsiktens BK, for whom he plays in his third season. He was previously a member of Torslanda IK. His older brothers are football players Tobias Hysén (half-brother) and Alexander Hysén. He won the seventh season of Let's Dance, being the first openly gay person to win this competition.

He came out as gay to the Swedish football magazine Offside in March 2011. Daily Mail has described Anton as the "first high-profile Swedish footballer to announce that he is gay" and as the second active professional football player to come out, after English footballer Justin Fashanu in 1990. The BBC called him "a global one-off".

Hysén was profiled on Swedish broadcaster TV4 on March 9, 2011, in a debate show moderated by Lennart Ekdal titled "Can gays play football too?".

He works part-time as a construction worker.

1999 – US Defense Secretary William Cohen ordered a full review of the "Don't ask, don't tell" policy. The policy had recently been criticized for creating a hostile environment.

2002 – The Belgium Senate approves same-sex marriage, making Belgium the second country to do so.

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