barnabusthebarmyballetschool

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Rotten Holiday by takearisk

Rotten holiday, Valentine’s Day. First of all, the colors: garish pinks and in-your-face reds that have no business being that bright. Secondly, the décor: explosions of hearts, and cherubs, and flowers. Good god, the flowers. There was no way Professor Sprout needed to grow that many bouquets and blossoms except for the express need to annoy him. Thirdly, the giggling. Harry had started taking secret passageways completely out of the way of his classes just to avoid the titter from various groups that seemed hell bent on forcing him into some form of self-disfigurement. Mainly, the urge to shove his quill, pointy end first, straight into his forehead to put himself out of his misery. But fourthly, the couples. What on earth could be so special about the first two weeks in February that every pair of boyfriend and girlfriend had to parade through the halls hand in hand. Or more nauseatingly, hide down deserted corridors locked mouth to mouth. In short, Harry was damn near convinced that everyone in the school had lost their minds.

read on ao3

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You wrote about murder?? Murder is illegal?? You wrote about this dude killing someone and you didn’t even say ‘murder is bad’ at the start of the book, wht wtf, wtf is wrong with you? I can’t believe you condone murder, I can’t believe you’re pro murber, oh my fucking God don'ttalk to me when ou literally kill people, freak. I’m calling the cops, what the fuck, I’m shaking and crying.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

This is definitely the strangest portrait request I have had so far, but I feel like I captured Beaker's essential essence.

Prints and merch (because you know you want this on a t-shirt):

Redbubble - Teepublic

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

What Movie Did The Groundhog Day Plot Best?

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

This is great! I had a quick look on the Wikipedia lists (A-K, L-Z) and one that made me laugh was sideburns!

Yep. Can easily see why he lent his surname to the Victorian facial hair craze

From the blog of K. J. Charles dated 19th April 2024, copy-pasted for Tumblr history nerds and historical fiction writers.

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Eponymosity!

A quickie blog post today, inspired by Benjamin Dreyer’s entertaining rant on the distinction between eponymous and titular (it’s in footnote 1 for a clearer explanation than I am inclined/able to provide), and also by the fact that one of these sneaky little bastards nearly got me in a recent book.

So. An eponym is simply a word taken from a person’s name. Obamacare is an eponym, so is Reaganomics. If you hoover your carpets, the verb comes from the eponymous brand of vacuum cleaner. (We do not use the capital letter, no matter what the Hoover corporation may think: that ship has sailed, as demonstrated by the fact that I hoover with a Dyson.)

If you write historical novels, eponyms are one of those damn things. They tend to be extremely and usefully specific in meaning, but they are also extremely specific in dates, meaning you can’t rely on the old “well it was probably around for decades before it made it into the dictionary” line.

Here for your advisory is an incomplete list of eponyms that may trip you up, depending on period.

Boycott: The name comes from 1880 (Ireland, Charles Boycott, a shitty land agent who was socially and economically ostracised). The practice is older: there was a widespread boycott in the UK of slavery-produced sugar starting in 1791, during which sales plummeted by something like 40%. It is totally historically plausible to have a consumer or personal boycott in your Georgian or Regency novel, but you can’t call it a boycott for several decades more.

Chauvinist: Named for a French vaudeville character. Meaning ‘blinkered nationalist’ it dates from 1840; you can’t use it for a male pig until 1960.

Fedora: The hat beloved of men who spend too long on the internet getting angry about Star Wars sequels actually used to be a symbol of female liberation and cross dressing. Comes from the 1887 play Fédora starring Sarah Bernhardt.

Fuchsia: You will be able to spell this if you remember it’s an eponym for Mr Fuchs. The flowers are so named in the UK in the 1750s, the colour not till the 1920s. Do not put your Regency heroine in fuchsia, is what I mean.

Maverick: Supposedly from a US cattle owner, Samuel Maverick, who let his calves run wild. 1880s US at the very earliest, more probably 1930s. Yes, that is irritating.

Mesmeric: He may have compelling eyes but they ain’t mesmeric before the 1860s. The hypnotist Mesmer flourished in the late 1700s, giving us mesmerism (hypnosis); mesmerise wasn’t a verb till the end of the Regency, and even then it still meant ‘to put into a hypnotic trance’.

Sadistic: Marquis de Sade, as you already know, but NB that sadist/sadistic aren’t in general use till the 1890s or so when sexology got going, along with masochism (also an eponym).

Sandwich: 1762 since you ask.

Silhouette: The outline picture is named for French finance minister Etienne de Silhouette. Used in France from 1760. However, despite there being a craze for silhouettes in England, the actual word didn’t come here till the mid 1820s, which is sodding annoying if your novel about a silhouette cutter happens to be set in 1819 I’M JUST SAYING.

Sweet Fanny Adams: This UK usage originally referring to something no good, now often used as an alternative to ‘sweet FA/fuck all’, came in from 1869 and cannot be used before 1867. You really don’t want to know where it comes from but here if you must (be warned, it’s genuinely grim). (My note: tw for CSA and child murder.)

Thug: Originally from India. Used to describe the Thuggee (as Brits then called it) sect from 1810. Didn’t become generalised to all violent lowlifes till 1839. You can’t be assaulted by thugs in a Regency unless they are actually Thugs.

Trilby: Another hat your Regency gentleman can’t wear. Comes from George du Maurier’s mega hit Trilby published 1894, which also gave us svengali (the name of the baddie in the book).

Feel free to add to this in the comments, there’s always something!

Death in the Spires, my Oxford-set historical murder mystery, is out now. The silhouette book, The Duke at Hazard, publishes in July.

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End c+p.

KJ Charles is one of my absolute favourite writers in the world and the contemporary star in the crown of the MM historical romance genre. Her blog is also worthy of following because she reads incredibly widely and diversely and posts book recommendations as well as good advice about writing.

Re: Dreyer's rant, I am absolutely a prescriptivist, and if you use the word "nonplussed" in that unholy way I'm blocking you. We colonized folk of the former Raj didn't learn the intricacies of this cussed language for you to change meanings on a dime because you couldn't be bothered to crack open a dictionary.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

@pscentral​ event 03: team colours

The Martian (2015)

So…I’ve still gotta figure out how to grow three years worth of food. Here. On a planet where nothing grows. Luckily, I’m a botanist.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

Nosferatu v Dracula Daily

Finally saw Nosferatu and plot wise it's so similar to Dracula yet *not* in all the wrong places!

Sat (alone) in the cinema and every character got renamed from their OG counterpart, but c'mon...

They are clearly My Good Friend Jonathan & Mina the Train Fiend Harker. I don't care that this film is set 60 years too early. Give that girl a typewriter!

A young and upcoming solictor's clerk is sent to a foreign country to handle the property sale to an old Count. After the locals try to warn him from going, he ends up trapped & tortured in the castle but managed to escape. There's even wolves to do the Counts bidding!

I know it was suppose to be a horror movie, but because of Dracula Daily I found myself laughing at key moments from the book that had been adapted (to varying levels of success), and most often anticipating certain characters or events. When the ship crashed into the harbour I felt like cheering!

Where this film (and all other Dracula movies let's be honest) messed up is making it a romantic thing between our heroine and the vampire. This film made it weirdly sexual for no other reason than <hehe boobies>

I didn't mind that they changed the time period to the 1830s, or the setting to Germany. And as much as I missed our favourite cowboy, I wasn't even mad that Quincey Morris wasn't there shooting up the silver screen. What did annoy me was the ending.

Not to get all spoliery, but the only good thing about the last 3rd of this movie is Willem Defoe as Van Helsing Von Franz. I did adore the Scooby Gang carriage scene, but otherwise I felt frustrated as the characters all started acting against type and the direction choices became questionable.

I could rant say more, but this has already gone on too long.

TL;DR, Nosferatu has some good nods to the original Dracula novel, but in trying to be *different* it just feels like more of the same slop Hollywood keeps churning out.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

i present to yall my absolute masterpiece

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

literally said STAB ME to the poor volunteer who administer covid jabs

As someone who works with social history for a living, I feel like I’m the aggressive opposite of an anti-vaxxer

I fucking LOVE vaccines, friends. Give me the science stab. I’m so ready. it’s a beautiful day to not die of a Bajillion and one diseases that carried off like half the population before they had even reached age 10, and a significant portion before they made it to old age, 150 years ago

I go to the old cemetery. I see the vast numbers of infant and child and young adult graves. And then I go to my doctor and get injected with Potion of Fuck That Noise. This is beautiful and miraculous and I do not remotely understand how some people can reject it – not just for themselves, but for their children

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

The Matrix (1999) The Matrix Reloaded (2003) The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

A few months ago I dislocated my kneecap, but I was wearing a knee brace* so it didn't fully pop out. The brace did it's job in so much as it didn't allow my kneecap to fully dislocate, but not enough to stop my knee from misaligning.

Ha! maybe it disaligned instead, or I could just say I misloacted it.

fascinated by how "dislocate" seems to be a word used almost exclusively to refer to the misalignment of bodies, or parts of the body, from their proper place. it's distinctly anatomical. you don't say "i dislocated my keys" for instance, even though that's technically a correct and coherent sentence.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

He was as tall as he was tall, and his eyes were the color they were. To describe his hair one would say that he had some. His face had all the features you'd expect, and none of the ones you wouldn't. "There he is," people would often say of him, but only when he was there. And they were right.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

I was like, "I'm not gonna change a word of this script. This is a perfect script. I'm not gonna ruin this movie with my thoughts." But then, on every camera take, Jon our wonderful director was like, "Now do one just for fun. Now do one just you. Like, just something that you would say, off the cuff and ad-lib." And I was like, "Okay, if you want." And then, this man pulled a fast one on me. He used every single ad-lib.

Bowen Yang as Pfannee — WICKED (2024) dir. Jon M. Chu

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

for the prompt. 60: truth serum with Hinny

When the office sent Harry home after a particularly grueling test, he fully intended to go to bed and rest, just as he’d been instructed.

And to be fair—if he was being honest, which he had little choice about at the moment—he did go to bed and rest.

He just didn’t end up in his bed.

As he climbed the creaky stairs of the Burrow, the open door on the first landing caught his eye. The bright warmth and comfort of the small room seemed far more inviting than Bill’s old room upstairs. Without much thought, Harry stepped inside.

He wrapped himself in the homemade quilt and buried his face into the soft pillow, the faint scent of the orchard still lingering on the yellow flower print case.

A voice startled him from the doorway.

“What are you doing in here? Aren’t you supposed to be at training?”

“They sent me home.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “You messed up that badly?”

 “I was a little too good, actually.”

Harry heard Ginny snort as she stepped into the room. She shut the door behind her and crossed to the bed. A moment later, he felt the mattress dip as she sat beside him.

“Why are you in my bed, though?”

Harry turned over onto his back, squinting at her blazing gaze. “I like your bed better.”

Ginny’s blurry face tilted, clearly smiling. She leaned across him to reach the bedside table, grabbed his glasses, and slid them onto his face. His world came into sharp focus.

“Are you going to sleep here when I head back to Hogwarts next week?”

“Probably,” Harry replied without hesitation, deadpan.

He sat up, leaning back against the headboard, and pulled Ginny into his arms.

“It’s not that great of a bed,” Ginny said, her head resting on his chest. “Why do you like it so much?”

Harry inhaled deeply, his face brushing her hair. “Because it smells like you.”

Ginny smiled softly and began to toy with his fingers. “What kind of test did you do today?”

“Interrogation training. How to withstand different magical interrogation techniques. Neville and Ron didn’t last long.”

“But you did well?”

“Made it through multiple rounds,” Harry said, sounding equal parts proud and tired. “They had to keep brewing stronger truth potions until I finally couldn’t fight it off anymore.”

Ginny frowned. “Bit dangerous sending you home, then. What if someone asked you about top-secret Ministry stuff?”

“Well, good thing I promised—honestly and sincerely—to go straight to my bed and sleep it off,” Harry said.

Her frown deepened. “But then you lied. You went to my bed, not yours.”

Harry shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “Like I said, I like this bed better.”