#Dr. Paul Richards
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The Aid: Chapter 4- One Step Closer
TW & CW: non-con nudity (nonsexual), dub-con/non-con touching (nonsexual), clothing dressing (nonsexual), mention of past non-con, pet/slave fic with general dehumanization that goes along with it (nothing severe), deliciously delirious drugged Whumee, Whumpee awakening from a coma, aftermath of torture and starvation, underweight and malnourished Whumpee, probably medical malpractice, med whumpy(?), Care-Whumper (this is the closest we are getting to a “Caretaker” for a LONG time, and Dr. Paul is no saint), asexual-spectrum Whumpee who doesn’t know he’s ace-spec yet and subsequently has negative self-talk and throws himself a pity-party because of it (this is part of the character journey, alright?), Caretaker turned Whumpee, general sad + angsty Whumpee energy, Wyatt Sullivan (Whumper) being a bully (expected), Whumpee being called "boy" when he's a grown ass man, bad jokes as a coping mechanism from Whumpee
IDK if this needs to be a warning or not, but Whumpee is currently non-verbal from being drugged and having trauma (brain trauma from the coma mixed with general trauma-trauma), but there’s quite a bit of internal dialog, and we are in his POV!
Word count: 3645
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‘Maybe if I’m a good enough boy, I’ll get a treat after this,’ The Aid jokingly thought, desperate to find an ounce of humor to cling to.
If he couldn’t laugh, he’d surely cry.
And he was tired of crying.
With gloved hands, Dr. Paul carefully removed The Aid’s IV and feeding tubes, talking him through the process as he worked, intended to keep him as calm and present in the moment as possible. Wyatt Sullivan returned with a full glass of water—per Dr. Paul’s request—which the Doctor took from him before shooing him away, tasking him to warm The Aid a bowl of soup.
“I saved the worst for last, but it’ll be quick, I promise,” Dr. Paul said in a chipper tone. He fondled and stuck a syringe into something at the foot of the bed for a minute before lifting the bottom of the comforter and sheet that covered The Aid.
“Full disclosure, you’re naked under here, but after I remove the catheter, I’ll make you decent so you don’t have to trot around bare-assed.”
The Aid felt his heart skip a beat and his body temperature quickly rise from utter humiliation.
‘Great.’ A shiver of unease washed over him as the thought of another grown man dressing him filled him with inept self-consciousness. He felt foolish for feeling this way, as Dr. Paul had seen more parts of him than anyone else—all parts, in fact, many times.
‘At least Dr. Paul offered; at least it isn’t Wyatt—not like that asshole ever would do anything remotely helpful.’
He glanced down to see Dr. Paul hoist up the covers to his right knee before he forced himself to look away, not trusting himself not to jerk away from perturbed anticipation. The Doctor stuck his arm under the blanket, placing his hand on The Aid’s inner mid-thigh, unclipping the catheter from the adhesive tubing holder, and gently peeling it off his leg.
“This won’t hurt. I mean, even if it did, you wouldn’t feel it with the meds you’re on. Just take a deep breath and try to relax,” Dr. Paul directed, giving The Aid a moment to prepare. He sucked in a quick breath and held it in as he anxiously kneaded the blanket, fingernails digging into the soft filling of the comforter like small animals burrowing into freshly plowed Earth.
The Doctor hoisted the bedding further and quickly peeked below as his arm completely disappeared between The Aid’s legs.
‘I look like a mother about to give birth.’
Although he couldn’t feel much of what was happening and Dr. Paul worked diligently, his face turned bright pink from embarrassment. He fought his knee-jerk reaction of clamping his legs shut, knowing that would only prolong the process and demoralize him even further. He lightly felt the strange sensation of the tube pulled from his urethra, along with Dr. Paul’s index finger and thumb holding his sex steady as the catheter was fished out from inside him.
He wanted to fucking scream.
“You’re okay, almost there…Just a couple more seconds,” Dr. Paul hushed, observing The Aid’s legs shaking, stiffened body, and tightly-twisted red face.
“All done!” The Doctor pulled the blanket back down over his feet while holding the catheter out in front of him, placing the tubing and foley bag that was secured to the foot of the bed in a small trash can.
The Aid sharply exhaled the breath he held in between clenched teeth as a few tears escaped his eyes. He tried to force the memory of the experience out of his mind alongside his expulsion of breath before filling his lungs with a steadied, deep inhale.
‘Deep breath in…deep breath out…Repeat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.’
He couldn’t help but feel violated and further stripped of agency. Who was he kidding, what agency did he have left at this point?
He knew the Doctor was only doing his job, and it was a simple medical device removal procedure; that wasn’t what bothered him, although he couldn't shake the feeling of being molested. What really ate at him was the fact that he viewed himself as a pathetic loser because, through his own avoidant tendencies, he inadvertently put himself in a situation where the only people who touched him were doing it out of a sadistic urge or in a medical setting—usually to fix damage from said sadistic urge.
He felt stupid for being triggered by something as simple as a formal routine, but his distraught feelings overpowered his rationality, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. He didn’t care if he was being overly emotional about it; he had to allow himself to grieve the life he lost on top of all the pain and torment he went through. If he still had an ego, he was sure it was just as broken and bruised as his body.
Fleeting parts of him wished he had succumbed to horny teenage sexcapades just so he could dig up a single good memory of an intimate connection that didn’t leave him a sobbing mess afterward. But looking back, even in his supposed “sexual peak” (that he never went through), he harbored no such desires—well, save the fragmented memories of a single budding spark with a male cheerleader that he quickly snuffed out and fled from in a last-ditch attempt to save them both from eventual embarrassment and hurt feelings.
But that was a lifetime ago.
He didn’t know why he had always avoided deeper romantic connections, but he found them off-putting and thought himself incapable of possessing any feelings beyond a familial or platonic bond.
His disinterest in amorous relations didn’t use to bother him, but now it did.
He would cry-laugh about the irony of his situation when left alone for long periods; he’d spent days reeling about it, stuck in a mental loop while secluded in the basement—an intimately incapable 24-year-old forced to be a punching bag and fuck puppet for a sick pervert who found pleasure from his immense suffering.
He accepted that life wasn’t fair, but did it have to be so goddamn cruel?
******
Dr. Paul’s latex gloves snapped as he peeled them off his fingers. He disposed of the gloves and applied a dab of sand sanitizer, working it vigorously into his palms- the pungent alcoholic stench burned The Aid’s nose and caused a stir of harrowing memories to resurface that came through in broken fragments. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the details and lock them back up in the recesses of his mind’s “Do Not Enter” section.
‘How many things have this abominable fuckass Wyatt ruined and taken from me? Triggered by hand sanitizer? Embarrassing. Maybe it's best I stay here till I die.’
The Aid felt Dr. Paul’s hand tunnel between his lower back and the bed; the Doctor’s other hand securely grabbed his left forearm—the only side of his upper half that remained unmangled.
“I know you’re high as a kite, and you’re out of it, but I’m going to sit you up, okay? We’ll take it nice and slow, up and at ‘em.” Dr. Paul pulled him up with expert caution to a sitting position, still holding him up as his damaged body adjusted to the movement and change of elevation.
The Aid groaned, not from pain, but from the dizzying head rush that momentarily filled his vision with small, trailing stars that reminded him of tiny fireworks. Everything felt off and wrong. The world seemed surreal, as if an obnoxious bright tint was added to it, and he was looking through a high-contrast photo filter.
“Do you feel anything? Are you in any pain?”
The Aid perfunctorily shook his head, his eyes wandering around the room in a daze.
Dr. Paul released the hand from his back, waiting a moment to ensure he could keep himself upright before grabbing the cup of water from the nightstand and holding it out in front of him. The water seemed to sparkle in the clear glass, and he reveled in the small, idyllic moment of his first drink from a cup—not a bowl—since his demotion from house pet to basement troll.
He wrapped his fingers around the glass and carefully took it from Dr. Paul. He brought the rim to his mouth and took a sip.
‘This is the best goddamn water I’ve ever had.’
The liquid was cool and crisp; it didn’t taste dusty and metallic like the water he had grown accustomed to. He never realized how water could have such flavor to it. He took another magnificent sip. Realizing how thirsty he was, combined with the uncertainty of when he’d get fresh water again, he continued gulping it down, savoring every drop.
“Alright…Alright. Okay, that’s enough.” Dr. Paul took the cup from him—still halfway full. “Gotta take it easy, okay? Can’t go chugging water right now; you can have some more in a minute if you’re still thirsty.”
The Aid slumped in defeat, feeling like a small child being berated after being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Dr. Paul walked to the other side of the room to rummage through The Aid’s dresser, then disappeared into the small walk-in closet for a moment before returning to The Aid’s bedside with garments folded over his arm. He placed the clothes on the bed, leaving all but a pair of boxers in hand, and spun The Aid to the side so his legs were hanging off the mattress—still keeping his lower half covered under the blanket.
Dr. Paul bent over, pulled the boxers over his ankles, worked them around the curve of his bent, scabbed knees, and shimmied them up around his bony hips, the elastic waistband snapping around his waist.
‘This is what Madame Eleanor must have felt like…’
He reflected on his former Master’s last year of life when she needed the most assistance with things. He dressed and changed her multiple times a day without much thought, but never considered the mix of emotions of the person on the receiving end of help. Maybe she made peace with it; an elderly woman dying a slow death from cancer surely didn’t struggle with needing support as much as he did as a mid-20-something-year-old man who was supposed to be the pinnacle of health, right?
Some strange part of him felt a pang of misplaced guilt for not being a better version of himself, although he knew it was out of his control—he didn’t shackle himself, starve himself, and maim himself for months; it was done to him.
Dr. Paul continued dressing The Aid, slipping a pair of socks on his feet as he informed him of his sprained, lightly wrapped left ankle, which he was to stay off of for the next couple of weeks. Dr. Paul assured him that he told Sullivan that he was on bed rest and that his Master wasn’t to lay anything but a helping hand on him.
‘We’ll see how that goes. That creep can’t get his grubby ass hands off me.’
Next, Dr. Paul pulled on a pair of baggy sweats, tying the drawstring as tight as it would allow, then carefully fed his arms through a black zip-up hoodie, taking extra precaution with his right side.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Dr. Paul asked over the low whir of the zipper gliding up to his chest.
‘Consider me your living Ken doll. I can even beg on my knees like Barbie.’
The Doctor retrieved an arm sling from his grab-bag of medical equipment, looped it around The Aid’s left shoulder, and adjusted it to securely hold his right arm. Then, without warning, Dr. Paul abruptly pulled him up by his left hand to stand. His body was stiff as a board, his knees locked, and muscles pulled tight. He stumbled, wobbling with all his weight on his right foot—which wasn’t much, but just enough to throw him off balance.
A distraught whine escaped him as he hopelessly felt another head rush come on and desperately clutched onto Dr. Paul for support.
Panting, he slouched into the taller man’s chest, trying to work up the strength to hold himself up on his own. He felt like a newborn fawn taking its first steps on frail legs minutes after birth.
The hardwood oak floor beneath his socked feet was nice and smooth—he hoped he wouldn’t slip on it. Falling on it would guarantee more damage dealt…although that would mean more bed rest, which meant more time away from Sullivan’s beatings.
“Here we go!” Dr. Paul shoved a walking crutch under his left armpit (‘Where the hell did this come from?’) as he wrapped an arm around him to bear some of his weight, allowing him to acquaint himself with his temporary walking device.
‘An aide for The Aid—a match forged by the heavens and prophesied in the stars, or a cruel joke? You decide.’
“Perfect height! Alright, we’ll just take a stroll to the other side of the room and head back, then I’ll get outta your hair, alright? You’ve been doing so good—”
“That’s what I like to hear! My boy’s a champ; he always bounces back.”
The Aid and Dr. Paul's necks craned simultaneously to the left, watching Wyatt stroll into the room and gesture at a bowl of steamy soup in hand, then placing it—and a spoon—on the dresser.
‘Looks like he’s trying to win points with the Doctor by pretending to be civilized by ‘allowing’ me to eat with silverware; what an occasion. If only I was allowed a camera to document this momentous event.’
“Don’t stop on my account,” Sullivan simpered, sitting on the corner of the bed, twisting around to watch them. He eyed The Aid excitedly, half expecting him to fail and become a blubbering, broken heap on the floor in mere seconds.
‘Stop fucking looking at me with that shit-eating grin.’
“Com’mon,” Dr. Paul coaxed, loosening his grip around The Aid and slowly stepping backward, encouraging him to follow. He took a small, hesitant step forward, supporting himself with the crutch. He felt the woosh of his clothes sway with his jolted, ungraceful step, indicating how much weight he lost during his time in isolation.
“Beautiful,” the Doctor encouraged, guiding him to take another step.
“Speaking of hair, he got a wash and a beard trim last week, then a sponge bath a couple days ago. But I’m sure he’d appreciate a warm shower.” Dr. Paul glanced over at Sullivan.
“Think you can manage to keep an eye on him? I'm not saying you need to bathe him; just monitor him and make sure he doesn’t run the water too hot. I recommend sitting him in a chair so he isn’t standing the whole time; he’ll be woozy for a while. One of the side effects of these meds is heat sensitivity and an increased risk of heat stroke, so just make sure you don’t lock him in the car on a hot day with the windows rolled up. I’ll go over meds with you while he’s eating.”
“Ow-wa Doc! Was that a dog joke you just threw in there?” Sullivan whooped amusedly.
“Just making sure you’re paying attention,” Dr. Paul chuckled.
‘Call me Scooby because I can’t fucking Doo this anymore.’
“Sure you don’t want me to scrub his back too? Scratch him behind the ears? Towel dry him and put a pretty bow on him?” Sullivan teased.
‘Don’t threaten me with a good time. If only you would treat me like the show dog I was born to become.’
“Only if you feel so inclined to. But maybe you can pretty him up and get him a haircut and a shave? I’m sure he’d like that. Your mother always kept him groomed, and he looked happier that way. Plus, it brings out his boyish charm, don’t ya think?” Dr. Paul playfully tousled The Aid’s shaggy, grown-out chocolate brown hair that hung past his ears and covered the nape of his neck.
They reached the opposing wall and began their trek back to the bed, the Doctor still guiding him, walking backward like a parent teaching their infant how to walk. From this vantage point, The Aid could see the heap of medical devices stationed on the right side of his bed that mimicked a hospital room.
“Hm, I dunno, I think I like the shaggy dog look on him,” Sullivan said tongue-in-cheek, knowing damn well The Aid didn’t like looking unkempt.
“Looks like a sad little stray puppy, doesn’t he? Well, minus the collar—oh wait—” Sullivan stood abruptly and pulled something from his back pocket. “Now we can complete the look!” He pinched the metal D-ring in between his fingers as The Aid’s dark green leather collar dramatically uncurled, springing out and forward.
The Aid glared at Sullivan with daggers in his eyes, disgusted by the presence of the collar. Just because the physical assaults were off-limits momentarily, it didn’t mean that Sullivan would stop tormenting him in whatever other way he could. The man had the same energy as a brutish school bully who deliberately picked on smaller kids just because he was bigger than them.
“Wyatt, play nice. Don’t tease him; put that thing away,” Dr. Paul chided, irritated by Sullivan’s blatant callousness.
Sullivan challenged The Aid’s glare with a smug smile, placing the collar on the dresser, deliberately positioning it on the edge closest to him so he would see it clearly when lying in bed. This served as a warning, a constant reminder of The Aid’s place, how he was owned and thought of as nothing more than an exotic pet to be tamed and used.
Once they reached the bedside, Dr. Paul took the crutch from under The Aid’s armpit and eased him down on the bed, resting the crutch on the nightstand and grabbing the glass of water.
“Want to finish this?”
‘Is water wet?’
The Aid eagerly seized the glass and greedily drank the rest like it was the last cup of water he would ever get to drink.
“Your first urination after the catheter removal may sting a little, but it shouldn’t be more than a little. There may also be a small amount of blood in your urine, but again, it shouldn’t be more than a small amount. If you have any issues down there, tell Wya—Master Sullivan, okay?” Dr. Paul looked expectantly at Wyatt to confirm that he would be receptive to possible future conversations involving The Aid’s urinary health.
“What am I supposed to do about it?” Sullivan asked dumbly. Dr. Paul eyed him confoundedly.
“…You call me, and I come to check on him and make sure he doesn’t have a UTI. If he has any issues, call me, and I’ll check to ensure he isn’t developing more problems. He’s been okay so far despite everything, and I’d like to keep it that way. But, if you haven’t noticed, he’s rather fragile right now; a gust of wind could knock him over.”
“Could have just said that.” Sullivan threw his arms up in the air. Dr Paul sighed, taking the cup from The Aid and propping him up against the bed’s headboard. He brought forth a medium-sized metal tray, unfolded its tucked-in legs, and placed it over The Aid’s lap. This time, Sullivan was smart enough to take the hint of placing the bowl of soup on it.
“You’re welcome.” Sullivan stood, waiting for a meek “Thank you, Master” from his slave.
The Aid stared bleakly into the bowl of soup, unsure how much he’d be able to eat because, despite being starved, he didn’t feel ravenous—he didn’t feel hungry at all. Sullivan scoffed at The Aid’s silence—what he took as an act of defiance.
He’d let it slide, just this once.
He promptly joined Dr. Paul to discuss medication times and dosages.
The older men’s voices faded to indistinctive background chatter in The Aid’s ears. He stared into the soup, fumbled the spoon, and stirred the contents around, trying to muster the strength to feed himself. Somehow, this felt like more of an impossible feat to overcome than hobbling around the room.
He only managed a few spoonfuls of broth. He nibbled on a chopped carrot, but it felt foreign in his mouth, and he struggled to swallow it.
He was suddenly hit with an unmistakable twinge of dread. His life felt bleak and meaningless; he had no hope for the future—the drugs seemed to only amplify his negative feelings.
‘Hope I get some fast-acting anti-depressants, if there is such a thing…’
How many more times would he be beaten nearly to death, or to death, just to be nursed back to health for the process to repeat itself? He couldn’t do this again, not after the basement. He lost part of himself in that dungeon that he’d never get back, the remnants forever lost in the pitch shadows. He found his demons down there; they coalesced with a single mission of ripping him to shreds and flaying him open for his human monster to feed on. The demons and devil-man volleyed him back and forth until nothing was left but a shell of a young man who’d lost everything and abandoned his will to live.
He knew no peace, no happiness; nothing but desperation and horror filled his mind and heart.
He stared helplessly into the bowl of soup as his mind dragged him down the hall of horrors, making him relive the torment.
He couldn’t even enjoy his first hot meal in four months.
‘I survived death…But now what?’
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Tag list: @sacredwrath
If ya wanna be added to or removed from the tag list, just let me know! Leave a comment or message me :)
#The Aid#wyatt sullivan#Dr. Paul Richards#Generic Writez#creepy whumper#intimate whumper#sadistic whumper#tw mentions of noncon#tw ptsd#med whump?#traumatized whumpee#tw nudity#noncon drugging#disoriented#drugged whupee#whump fic#oc whump#oc whump fic#dubious consent#dub con#dub con touching#pet whump#slavefic#torture aftermath#caretaker turned whumpee#carewhumper#ace whumpee#ace characters#tw coma#tw starvation
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Speed-running Doctor Who - The Eighth Doctor and Other Non-Series Doctors
A quick and dirty guide for those who want to get into the show, but don't want to watch everything from the beginning.
The Eighth Doctor
Plot Important Episodes
Entrances, Exits, Enemies, Lore Drops, and Character Development
The Enemy Within - The Doctor Who TV Movie (The Eighth Doctor's introduction)
The Night of the Doctor - Minisode (The Eighth Doctor regenerates)
Bonus
Not actual episodes but things you might want to watch anyways
Shada - Webcast (one of the many animated versions of Shada, but this one stars the Eighth Doctor instead of the Fourth)
The War Doctor
Plot Important Episodes
Entrances, Exits, Enemies, Lore Drops, and Character Development
Scream of the Shalka - Animated Mini-Series (this story features what may or may not be a young War Doctor. It also features Derek Jacobi as the Master for the first time)
Day of the Doctor - 50th Anniversary Special (The War Doctor's proper introduction and his only official episode)
Bonus
Not actual episodes but things you might want to watch anyways
The Curse of Fatal Death - Minisode (a Doctor Who parody made for charity that, at the time, was treated as an actual episode but is no longer considered canon. Worth a watch just to see how much the short predicted the New Series)
Alternate Universe Doctor
Back in the 60s, Doctor Who got two theatrical film adaptations staring Peter Cushing. There's much debate over where he fits in the continuity of the show, if at all, but he literally has more screen time than either McGann or Hurt so there's no reason not to include him.
My personal favorite fan theory is that he is a 10.2 Meta-Crisis Doctor grown old. It explains why he's human, why his last name is actually Who, why he had to build his tardis in his backyard, where his two granddaughters and niece come from, why they're named after past companions and family, why Ian and Wilf have alternate universe version of themselves, and why the Doctor is seemingly repeating his past adventures all over again.
Plot Important Episodes
Entrances, Exits, Enemies, Lore Drops, and Character Development
Dr. Who and the Daleks - Movie (first story featuring Peter Cushing's Doctor)
Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. - Movie (Final story featuring Peter Cushing's Doctor)
Bonus
Not actual episodes but things you might want to watch anyways
At the Earth's Core - Movie (This has even less to do with the show than the Dalek movies, but Cushing's character here is basically the same as his portrayal of the Doctor and is even called 'Doctor' through out the film. So fans of his Doctor have considered this an unofficial third movie)
(NOTE: THE FUGITIVE DOCTOR WILL BE COVERED DURING THE 13TH ERA BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE ALL OF HER APPEARANCES ARE)
(disclaimer: no spin-offs or extended universe stuff were considered when making this list beyond filmed appearances)
Up Next: The Ninth Doctor
#doctor who#classic who#new who#doctor who movies#dalek movies#war doctor#john hurt#Richard E. Grant#Rowan Atkinson#the master#eighth doctor#paul mcgann#peter cushing#Dr Who#Barbara Who#Susie Who#David#ian chesterton#Princess Dia#Louise#Tom Campbell#Grace#Chang Lee
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Shakespeare Weekend
Continuing our look at The Works of Mr. William Shakespear: in ten volumes published in 1728 by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) and Dr. George Sewell (d. 1726), this week we examine Volume Four and its imprint variation on the title page. Volumes Four, Five, and Nine all include additional booksellers aside from Jacob Tonson (1655-1736).
The imprint for these three volumes reads “Printed for J. Tonson in the Strand; and for J. Darby, A. Bettesworth, and F. Clay, in Trust for Richard, James, and Bethel Wellington”. Richard Wellington Sr. was established in the London book trade during the 1700s, shortly after his death in 1715 his wife Mary assigned his stock of books over to Darby, Bettesworth, and Clay in trust for her three children. How or why Wellington was tied to only volumes four, five, and nine of Pope’s work is unknown to us.
Volume Four contains a group of Shakespearean history plays including King John, King Richard II, King Henry IV Part I, King Henry IV Part II, and King Henry. Similar to Rowe’s earlier collection, scene divisions, stage directions, dramatis personae, and full-page engravings by either French artist Louis Du Guernier (1677-1716) or Englishman Paul Fourdrinier (1698-1758) precede each play.
Pope’s editions of Shakespeare were the first attempted to collate all previous publications. He consulted twenty-seven early quartos restoring passages that had been out of print for almost a century while simultaneously removing about 1,560 lines of material that didn’t appeal to him. Some of those lines were degraded to the bottom of the page with his other editorial notes.
View more Shakespeare Weekend posts.
-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern
#william shakespeare#shakespeare weekend#alexander pope#dr. george sewell#jacob tonson#richard wellington#j. darby#a. bettesworth#f. clay#nicholas rowe#louis du guernier#paul fourdrinier#the works of mr. william shakespear in ten volumes#shakespeare
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unpopular Michael Vey opinions
-Hunt for Jade Dragon is the BEST book out of the series
-Wade's death was weird as hell. Mf had nothing that attached me to him. Should have fleshed out his character a little bit more
-Carl Vey is a bad father and husband and deserves to be fed to electric rats
-Hatch is one of the BEST antagonists that I have ever come across. I see too many writers try to make their antagonists have some sort of redepmtion/backstory to make readers empathize (which is not a bad thing). It's refreshing to see a villain that is pure evil.
-I am REALLY hoping that Jack is not faking joining the Chasqui because I have a feeling that's what Richard Paul Evans is going to do. It would be beyond cool to see someone Michael trusted his life with turn to the other side.
-Sharon Vey deserves the world. She spent years protecting her son son while her stupid husband faked his death and watched on the sidelines.
-Michael also deserves the world. He is too kind and selfless for the world.
-Ostin's character had an awful opening. He shouldn't have been opened up with by being the typical nerd boy fetishizing Asian girls because what the FUCK
-The Final Spark is the WORST book.
-Ian is extremely underrated and I wish we saw more of his personality.
#michael vey#michael vey books#jack vranes#dr. hatch#carl very#sharon vey#richard paul evans#unpopular opinions
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Mr Kruspe and Dr Simi💕.
Richard arrives on stage holding his precious Dr Simi in his hand and carefully places him in his station.
Nice gesture. For his part, but also from the Mexican audience🙏
📽️Credits to marionyrp ig account
Ciudad del México day 1
#Richard and Dr Simi#rammstein#richard kruspe#paul landers#till lindemann#oliver riedel#christoph schneider#flake lorenz#rammstein 2022
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#each one has their own specific pros and cons#robert is described with a bulldog like temperament and he does have his pistols his frames and a stubborn will#louis moore is the equivalent of a wet little napkin but he’s smart so maybe he can outhink his opponent#mr. rochester has canonically shot someone and tried to choke richard out#post fire he’s lost his fight and cannot see and is down one hand so#M. paul has the power of God AND anime on his side#dr. John…….#jane eyre#villette#shirley#charlotte brontë
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Turn Off "The News".1: Black Power Media on Paul Robeson
Turn Off “The News”.1: Black Power Media on Paul Robeson
I’m starting a new series of posts here to express appreciation for and link to pieces published online by some of my favorite sources of news, information and analysis. The title refers to the difference between these sources and what is conventionally understood as “The News,” ie, mainstream outlets like NPR and the New York Times, CNN or Fox, MSNBC or CBS>NBC<ABC etc., and PBS Newshour as…
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#Black Panther Party#Black Power Media#Dr. Jared Ball#Gerald Horne#Internal colonialism theory#Jay-Z#Kanye West#Kwame Ture#New York Times#NPR#Paul Robeson#Richard Nixon#Snoop Dogg#Socialism
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DR. RICHARD PAUL MUKAMA: Are earbuds and headsets damaging my ears?
DR. RICHARD PAUL MUKAMA: Are earbuds and headsets damaging my ears? #DR.RICHARDPAULMUKAMA:
Hearing disabilities and loss are some of the hardest physio-social challenges being faced globally today.
The ear, is the body part that opens the world to us through sound. It enables us to hear, but often we take it for granted and misuse it. More than just hearing, it also supports the entire body with balancing. Did you know that your hearing can be affected by many things in your…
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#DR. RICHARD PAUL MUKAMA:#Dr. Richard Paul Mukama is a Clinical Operations Manager at C-Care IHK#top
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Fans celebrate the casting of Nichelle Nichols as Uhura as a moment for actors of color, which they should be.
But I also wanted to spotlight the casting of these iconic guest starring characters, seen in episodes of TOS.
Percy Rodriguez was cast as flag officer Commodore Stone, who was Kirk's superior in the chain of command. Stone is one of the officers that presides over Kirk's court martial.
Booker Bradshaw was the original Dr. M'Benga, seen in two episodes of TOS. at the time, M'Benga was Starfleet's first and only medical specialist in Vulcan Physiology, having spent a year's residency on Vulcan.
One of the finest minds in computer technology in the 23rd century, and creator of the duotronic computer, Dr. Richard Daystrom, was played by William Marshall, whose work in Shakespeare, and his roles as Paul Robeson and Frederick Douglass, added to the gravitas of his portrayal.
A flag officer, a specialist in Vulcan medicine, and one of the finest minds in a field of technology, played by actors of color, during the turbulent 1960s.
#star trek#star trek tos#commodore stone#dr m'benga#dr richard daystrom#court martial#a private little war#that which survives#the ultimate computer
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There have been 82 Doctors at this point!
Keep reading line because the list is so damn long.
Main Continuum
(In order of appearance)
Classic Who
First Doctor (William Hartnell 1963 – 1966, Richard Hurdnall 1983, David Bradley 2017, 2022)
Second Doctor (Patrick Troughton 1966 – 1969)
Third Doctor (John Pertwee 1970 – 1974)
Fourth Doctor (Tom Baker 1974 – 1981)
Fifth Doctor (Peter Davidson 1981 – 1984)
Sixth Doctor (Colin Baker 1984 – 1986)
Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy 1987 – 1989)
Eighth Doctor (Paul McGann 1996 movie)
Nu Who
Ninth Doctor (Christopher Eccleston 2005)
Tenth Doctor (David Tennant 2005 – 2010)
Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith 2010 – 2013)
The War Doctor (John Hurt 2013)
Twelfth Doctor (Peter Capaldi 2013 – 2017)
Thirteenth Doctor (Jodie Whittaker 2017 – 2022)
Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant 2023)
Fifteenth Doctor (Ncutu Gatwa 2023 - ?)
Pre - Memory Doctors
(Timeless child my beloathed)
Morbius Doctors (Robert Holmes, Graeme Harper, Douglas Camfield, Philip Hinchcliffe, Christopher Baker, Robert Banks Stewart, George Gallaccio and Christopher Barry 1976)
The Other (Sylvester McCoy, 1990)
The Fugitive Doctor (Jo Martin 2020)
The Timeless Child(ren) (TBA, Grace Nettle, Leo Tang, Jac Jones, TBA, Jesse Deyi 2020)
Brendan (Evan McCabe 2020)
Possible Future Doctors
(italicized parts of names are the title of that Doctor's first appearance, if I can't find a better name)
Father of Time (No Actor, 1987)
"Merlin" or The Battlefield Doctor (No actor, 1991)
The Army of Shadows Doctor (No actor, 1991)
"Fred" (No actor, 1993)
The Relic (no actor 1997, 2002)
The Storytelling Doctor (Tom Baker 1999)
The Web of Caves Future Doctor (Mark Gatiss, 1999)
The Blue Angel Future Doctor (No Actor, 1999)
The Curator 1 (Tom Baker, 2013)
The Curator 2 (Collin Baker, 2022)
Pseudo-Doctors
The Watcher (Adrian Gibbs 1981)
The Valyard (Michael Jayston 1986)
The Obverse Eight Doctor (No actor, 1999)
The Metacrisis Doctor (David Tennant 2008)
The DoctorDonna (Catherine Tait 2008)
The Dream Lord (Tony Jones 2010)
The Ganger Doctor (Matt Smith 2011)
The Spriggan (David Tennant 2022)
Alternate Realities
Dalek Films
Dr. Who (Peter Cushing 1965, 1966)
The Inferno Universe
The Leader (Jack Kine, 1970)
Doctor Who and the Daleks in Seven Keys to Doomsday
The Doctor (Trevor Martin 1974)
Previous Doctor (Nocholas Briggs 2008)
The Lenny Henry Show
The Seventh Doctor (Lenny Henry 1986)
What If?
The Eighth Doctor (No actor, 1997)
The Infinity Doctors
The Infinity Doctor (No actor, 1998)
The Curse of Fatal Death
The Doctor (Rowan Atkinsen 1999)
The Quite Handsom Doctor (Richard E Grant 1999)
The Shy Doctor (Jim Briadbent 1999)
The Handsom Doctor (Hugh Grant 1999)
The Female Doctor (Joanna Lumley 1999)
The Chronicles of Doctor Who?
The Doctor (no actor, 2000)
Klein's Story
Johann Schmidt (Paul McGann, 2010)
Father Time
The Emperor (No actor, 2001)
Scream of the Shalka
The 9th Doctor (Richard E Grant 2003)
Doctor Who Unbound
The Doctor (Geoffrey Bayldon 2003)
The Unbound Doctor (David Warner 2003)
The Heartless Doctor (David Collings 2003)
The New Heartless Doctor (Ian Brooker 2003)
Martin Bannister (Derek Jacobi 2003)
The Victorious Valyard (Michael Jayston 2003)
The Previous Doctor (Nicholas Briggs 2003)
The Exile Doctor (Arabella Weir 2003)
The Warrior (Collin Baker 2022)
Gallifrey - Disassembled
Lord Burner (Collin Baker 2011)
Gallifrey - Regenerators
Commentater Theta Sigma (Collin Baker, 2011)
False Negative
The Doctor (No actor, 2017)
The People Made of Smoke
The Sixth Doctor (Dan Starkey, 2020)
Unspecified Doctors
Yeah sometimes they just say "The Doctor" and don't bother specifying...
The Cabinet of Light Doctor (No Actor, 2003)
The Dalek Factor Doctor (No actor, 2004)
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Ari, 19
“I am wearing a vintage John Paul Richard sweater, a Brandy Melville white top, a thrifted DMBM skirt and Dr. Martens with my frilly socks from Amazon. Flowers are from a shop in the Upper West Side. I’ve been super inspired by the 70s lately and am trying to bring that era back alive within my own style.”
Oct 8, 2023 ∙ Upper West Side
#nyc looks#street style#new york#street fashion#style#outfit#fashion#ootd#new york street style#grand bazaar#upper west side
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Shakespeare Weekend
This weekend we return to The works of Mr. William Shakespear: in ten volumes with the fifth volume published in 1728 by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) and Dr. George Sewell (d. 1726) for Jacob Tonson. Volume Five is made up of King Henry VI Part I, King Henry VI Part II, King Henry VI Part III, and King Richard III. The four plays create a tetralogy that covers the entire saga of the Wars of the Roses, a series of 15th century civil wars fought to determine control of the English throne.
King Henry VI Part I enacts the loss of England’s French territories and the political momentum spurring on the Wars of the Roses. Part II delves into King Henry’s failings and the rise of the Duke of York. Part III documents the chaos and horror of war and contains one of the longest soliloquies in all of Shakespeare. The volume ends with King Richard III depicting the violent rise and short reign of King Richard III.
Like Rowe’s earlier collection, scene divisions, stage directions, dramatis personae, and full-page engravings by either French artist Louis Du Guernier (1677-1716) or Englishman Paul Fourdrinier (1698-1758) precede each play.
Pope’s editions of Shakespeare were the first attempted to collate all previous publications. He consulted twenty-seven early quartos restoring passages that had been out of print for almost a century while simultaneously removing about 1,560 lines of material that didn’t appeal to him. Some of those lines were degraded to the bottom of the page with his other editorial notes.
View more Shakespeare Weekend posts.
-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern
#william shakespeare#shakespeare#alexander pope#dr. george sewell#jacob tonson#tetralogy#King Henry VI Part I#King Henry VI Part II#King Henry VI Part III#King Richard III#louis du guernier#paul fourdrinier#shakespeare weekend#engravings
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Vampire Suit (jacket and jeans), 1998
Trench coat, tattoo shirt, belt, chains, bag - Designed by Jean Paul Gaultier
Wallet - Sold at Hot Topic
Boots - Manufactured by Dr. Martens
Ensemble styled by Richard Patrick Anderson
Source: “Gothic to Goth: Romantic Era Fashion & Its Legacy” at the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art
Exhibit Site
Google Arts and Culture Page About Exhibit
Google Arts and Culture Page About Image
#fashion#jean paul gaultier#gothic fashion#fashion photography#fashion history#gothgoth#i went down a rabbit hole trying to see if i could find a fullbody picture of vampire suit#and this is what i found!
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Advice/hard truths for writers?
The best piece of practical advice I know is a classic from Hemingway (qtd. here):
The most important thing I’ve learned about writing is never write too much at a time… Never pump yourself dry. Leave a little for the next day. The main thing is to know when to stop. Don’t wait till you’ve written yourself out. When you’re still going good and you come to an interesting place and you know what’s going to happen next, that’s the time to stop. Then leave it alone and don’t think about it; let your subconscious mind do the work.
Also, especially if you're young, you should read more than you write. If you're serious about writing, you'll want to write more than you read when you get old; you need, then, to lay the important books as your foundation early. I like this passage from Samuel R. Delany's "Some Advice for the Intermediate and Advanced Creative Writing Student" (collected in both Shorter Views and About Writing):
You need to read Balzac, Stendhal, Flaubert, and Zola; you need to read Austen, Thackeray, the Brontes, Dickens, George Eliot, and Hardy; you need to read Hawthorne, Melville, James, Woolf, Joyce, and Faulkner; you need to read Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, Goncherov, Gogol, Bely, Khlebnikov, and Flaubert; you need to read Stephen Crane, Mark Twain, Edward Dahlberg, John Steinbeck, Jean Rhys, Glenway Wescott, John O'Hara, James Gould Cozzens, Angus Wilson, Patrick White, Alexander Trocchi, Iris Murdoch, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Anthony Powell, Vladimir Nabokov; you need to read Nella Larsen, Knut Hamsun, Edwin Demby, Saul Bellow, Lawrence Durrell, John Updike, John Barth, Philip Roth, Coleman Dowell, William Gaddis, William Gass, Marguerite Young, Thomas Pynchon, Paul West, Bertha Harris, Melvin Dixon, Daryll Pinckney, Darryl Ponicsan, and John Keene, Jr.; you need to read Thomas M. Disch, Joanna Russ, Richard Powers, Carroll Maso, Edmund White, Jayne Ann Phillips, Robert Gluck, and Julian Barnes—you need to read them and a whole lot more; you need to read them not so that you will know what they have written about, but so that you can begin to absorb some of the more ambitious models for what the novel can be.
Note: I haven't read every single writer on that list; there are even three I've literally never heard of; I can think of others I'd recommend in place of some he's cited; but still, his general point—that you need to read the major and minor classics—is correct.
The best piece of general advice I know, and not only about writing, comes from Dr. Johnson, The Rambler #63:
The traveller that resolutely follows a rough and winding path, will sooner reach the end of his journey, than he that is always changing his direction, and wastes the hours of day-light in looking for smoother ground and shorter passages.
I've known too many young writers over the years who sabotaged themselves by overthinking and therefore never finishing or sharing their projects; this stems, I assume, from a lack of self-trust or, more grandly, trust in the universe (the Muses, God, etc.). But what professors always tell Ph.D. students about dissertations is also true of novels, stories, poems, plays, comic books, screenplays, etc: There are only two kinds of dissertations—finished and unfinished. Relatedly, this is the age of online—an age when 20th-century institutions are collapsing, and 21st-century ones have not yet been invented. Unless you have serious connections in New York or Iowa, publish your work yourself and don't bother with the gatekeepers.
Other than the above, I find most writing advice useless because over-generalized or else stemming from arbitrary culture-specific or field-specific biases, e.g., Orwell's extremely English and extremely journalistic strictures, not necessarily germane to the non-English or non-journalistic writer. "Don't use adverbs," they always say. Why the hell shouldn't I? It's absurd. "Show, don't tell," they insist. Fine for the aforementioned Orwell and Hemingway, but irrelevant to Edith Wharton and Thomas Mann. Freytag's Pyramid? Spare me. Every new book is a leap in the dark. Your project may be singular; you may need to make your own map as your traverse the unexplored territory.
Hard truths? There's one. I know it's a hard truth because I hesitate even to type it. It will insult our faith in egalitarianism and the rewards of earnest labor. And yet, I suspect the hard truth is this: ineffables like inspiration and genius count for a lot. If they didn't, if application were all it took, then everybody would write works of genius all day long. But even the greatest geniuses usually only got the gift of one or two all-time great work. This doesn't have to be a counsel of despair, though: you can always try to place yourself wherever you think lightning is likeliest to strike. That's what I do, anyway. Good luck!
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Richard Armitage - Filmography 2/X
2002 Sparkhouse - John Standring
2003 Cold Feet, season 5 - Lee Preston
2003 Ultimate Force, season 2 - Capt. Ian Macalwain
2003 Between the Sheets - Paul Andrews
2004 North & South - John Thornton
2005 Frozen - Steven
2005 The Inspector Lynley Mysteries, season 4 - Philip Turner
2005 Malice Aforethought - William Chatford
2005 The Golden Hour - Dr. Alec Track
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