#messrs writes

[messrsbyler]

imagine not even mike notices this. he just knows he feels uncomfortable whenever a camera is pointing at him, too exposed and seen, with that face people compare with a frog and his too long limbs and his freckles and just about everything he doesn’t like about himself. so, mike doesn’t smile. it’s just something that happens, something he doesn’t plan or notice.

so imagine his surprise when one day the entire party is going through old pictures and while mike is trying to stomach his discomfort max pipes up and stares at him with her too bright blue eyes.

“geez, wheeler. you really don’t like the camera, do you?” she mocks and mike flips her, though that only makes max smile more because of course it does. “how can you be frowning in each one of these?”

lucas snorts next to her staring at the picture his girlfriend is holding. “yeah, mike doesn’t like to smile in pictures.”

“he’s smiling in this one.” el mumbles and shows the rest her discovery.

mike’s face grows hotter and she wiggles on his spot in the floor, trying to make himself smaller. his shoulder knocks will’s and will knocks back. when mike lifts his gaze at him, will is smiling in that way that means ‘don’t worry about them’.

“wait, really?” it is dustin who lurches at el who yelps. a second later dustin is holding the pic and staring at it with wide eyes. “holly shit, you are right! mike is smiling here!”

“you are a bunch of assholes,” mike huffs with a frown. “it’s not like i never smile?”

he’s ignored completely.

“wait! he’s smiling in this one too!”

“and this one!”

“found another one!”

“hey! why are you only smiling in the pics you have with will only?” dustin shoots him a judging look. “not cool, man. way to play your favouritism.”

mike scowls and his face burns again. he’s suddenly hyper aware of will’s presence next to him, in how his body is slightly leaning onto him, with their knees brushing and his cologne lingering around mike’s space. he gulps and focuses on not staring at will.

“that’s not true!”

“but it is,” max says, showing him the pictures and yes, it might be true. “literally, you only smile when will is also in the picture. what’s with that?”

“i- well, i don’t- how would i know?!” if mike lifts his voice it’s only because he can barely hear himself above the drumming of his heart. hell, is it getting hot down here?

“dude, why are you so red?” lucas laughs.

“i’m not red!” mike quips back immediately.

“i didn’t mean you, idiot.” lucas rolls his eyes. “i meant will. but now that you mention it, you are red too.”

mike can’t help it, he whips his eyes to will and sees a lovely shade of red resting on his cheeks and neck. it is noticeable even in his slightly tanned skin, and even while will isn’t looking back at him, mike can tell the blush makes his hazel eyes a bit brighter. he… he has no idea how he knows that but that will be for future him to unpack.

“just-“ mike picks the skin around his nail and sighs. “just shut up and stop staring at my pictures, okay?”

“boring,” dustin says.

“yeah, yeah.”

once the rest is distracted with something else, now turning their attention to lucas weird and over the top posts, mike nips his lip and hesitantly knocks his shoulder with will’s.

one second, two seconds, three-

will knocks back.

mike smiles, though his heart keeps beating too fast and loud for his liking.

“mike wheeler never smiles for pictures”

interesting

very interesting…

[messrmoonyy]

Shocking discovery that I do in fact have to write my fic and it won’t just manifest out of my head. Crying and throwing up

[terresdebrume]

Literally written on my phone on the ferry crossing for my day trip

"I believe I have something that should pique your interest," Mr. Payne says the day after he made Crystal's bedroom.

The Agency is in its fencing configuration when he comes in, the desk and bookshelves replaced with empty floorboards, a near obnoxious array of weapons, and three dummies that can be set to attack for a more immersive experience. Crystal is not allowed to set them off yet, mostly because they'd probably send her on her ass in seconds and the room is not ready for her to try using magic, anyway.

Mr. Payne takes all of that in, gaze flitting to his partner's state of undress, and frowns.

"Again?"

"You were out!" Crystal protests, panting for breath. "Charles agreed to show me how to use a mace!"

She waves her pretend weapon, a stick of wood with a round sandbag at one end, and feels herself smile for the first time in what feels like forever. Charles found her throwing the broken plates she bought yesterday at the ground earlier, and while he showed no sign of being annoyed at the destruction he also made it very clear breaking shit was not how she should relieve her stress. Honestly, Crystal didn't believe him at first, but he was right: bashing shit is more rewarding if you have to put your whole body into it.

"Oh," says Mr. Payne, hand on his hip, "I see we've progressed to a first name basis."

"Didn't seem right to have her call me Mr. Rowland while she was trying to cave my skull in, did it?" Mr. Rowland replies with a chuckle.

He's already undoing the buckles on his shield, which Crystal assumes means they're done. She's feeling better than earlier, so it makes sense. Goal accomplished and all. Still, she'd have been happy to keep whaling on Charles' shield, loud bongs echoing around them with each hit, for another hour at least.

But, oh, well, if her teacher's going to grab one of the linens on the wall and start moping himself up, Crystal should probably do the same. There's a moment of silence as she and Charles get the worst of the sweat off them—Charles, clad in a sleeveless shirt obviously meant for training in, gets more of it off, the lucky bastard—and then Mr. Payne clears his throat and starts talking again:

"I'm sure she took to it splendidly," he says, barely glancing at Crystal. "The mace is a very brash weapon."

"Hey!"

"However," Mr. Payne continues, ignoring her, "if these sessions of yours are to become a regular instance, we will need to agree on some kind of schedule. I do need the study to work."

"Isn't that kind of inconvenient?" Crystal asks. "Summoning each room in the same space?"

"It's worked for us so far," Charles says, lifting the bottom of his tunic so he can get some of the sweat off his abs, "but if you're going to stay it might be easier to separate the rooms altogether."

Mr. Payne, predictably, splutters a bunch of rude things about the temporal nature of Crystal's stay at the agency. It is, as it turns out, easier to ignore it now that he's built an entire bedroom for her.

"Anyway," Charles says when Mr. Payne is done, brushing the rant aside with an amused smile, "what were you saying about piquing our interest?"

[kaijuno]

In 2006 a high school English teacher asked students to write to a famous author and ask for advice. Kurt Vonnegut was the only one to respond - and his response is magnificent:

“Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta:

I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don’t make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.

What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.

Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you’re Count Dracula.

Here’s an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don’t do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. Don’t show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?

Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash receptacals. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what’s inside you, and you have made your soul grow.

God bless you all!" ~Kurt Vonnegut

[estrellami-1]

Pay the Price

Here you go, you insatiable little shits. Love ya. I’m gonna try to update every Sunday, at least until I run out of prewritten parts. Taglist is CLOSED (bc y’all are feral ❤️) so if you’re new and want to follow along, “#pay the price fic” is the fic tag and “#starambles” is my writing tag. Subscribe to whichever you want!

Part 2

“Ed, phone!” Wayne calls, and he scrambles from where he’s on his bed, writing lyrics.

“Coming!” He yelps, barely not running into a wall.

He takes the phone and vaguely recognizes the voice on the other end. He figures it’s someone at school, but can’t quite place it until the end of their conversation.

“Y’know Loch Nora?”

He scoffs. “Doesn’t everybody?” He asks, derision clear in his voice. Only the richest of the rich for their little podunk town, the who’s-who of Bumfuck, Indiana, live in Loch Nora.

“Last house on the right. Twenty minutes. See you then, Munson.”

Then the absolute asshole—because of course Eddie knows who it is now—hangs up.

Steve Harrington. The golden boy of Hawkins High.

Except that’s not the case anymore, is it? He thinks about the past year. He fell from the top of the totem pole like a rock, doing a perfect fucking swan dive all the way to the bottom, then standing up and brushing off his shoulders like it didn’t even matter to him.

And what had he said- babysit? The Hellfire freshmen? Yeah; Eddie definitely needs more context.

He grabs his keys, jams his feet into his shoes, and takes off.

He gets to the Harrington house (can it be called a house if it fits five of Eddie’s trailers? Or would that be classified as a mansion?) not much later, bounds up the steps, and knocks confidently on the door.

Steve Harrington—the man, the myth, the legend, the enigma—has some explaining to do.

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[ladykailitha]

Fucking hell, Tumblr!

Seriously this is such a fucking problem and every time I think I have the tagging sorted so people see my works, Tumblr comes along and fucks with something so that people don't see them.

Yesterday's chapter of Not All That Glitters is Gold isn't even showing up in my #ladykailitha writes tag at all. Actually none of the story is. And I'm betting I know the why on that one. The whole sex worker aspect of it all. (God, I hate purity culture so fucking bad.)

But a lot of my most recent posts for longer stories is barely hitting 80 notes when previous chapters did at least 140+.

Well Met By Moonlight and Never Hold Back Your Step (Werewolf Steve and Boy w/a Bat respectively) in particular are hardest hit. The majority of the people liking and reblogging aren't those being tagged, they're people who have seen it on their dash or even the steddie tag and liked.

So I guess this is my check in with you all:

Are you seeing my stories when I tag you? When I tag #ladykailtiha writes?

Is it when I post that makes it so hard to interact with? I post 10am EST if that's not a good time, let me know and I'll change it.

I thought it was because I was posting so often but my last two standalone stories both hit over 400 notes. Both The Rockstar and the Teacher and Musical Genius Steve did high numbers fast.

So is it posting fatigue? Am I posting too much, too fast? Are you just tired of the stories I'm writing?

This isn't a "YOU HAVE TO INTERACT WITH MY STORIES BY REBLOGGING AND COMMENTING ROARRRR!!!" post. I'm just seeing a huge drop in numbers for a lot of people honestly. Even the insanely popular steddie writers aren't getting the numbers they used to get (I stalk the steddie tag, so sue me).

So what's scaring people off? It is just a busy time for people? Help an anxious writer out here.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

[literaryvein-reblogs]

The Censorship of Books by Virginia Woolf

An essay published in the journal "Nineteenth Century and After" (April 1929) as part of a symposium on censorship.

As the law stands at present, a police magistrate has the right to destroy as obscene any book which he thinks likely to corrupt the mind of any reader who is liable to be corrupted.

If it is advisable to entrust anyone with such power – of which I am doubtful – obviously the time has come when the nature of what is corrupting and thus destroyable must be more clearly defined.

Nor is it difficult to suggest what lines that definition should follow.

There can be no doubt that books fall, in respect of indecency, into two classes.

There are books written, published and sold with the object of causing pleasure or corruption by means of their indecency.

There is no difficulty in finding where they are to be bought, nor in buying them when found.

There are others whose indecency is not the object of the book, but incidental to some other purpose – scientific, social, aesthetic – on the writer’s part.

The police magistrate’s power should be definitely limited to the suppression of books which are sold as pornography to people who seek out and enjoy pornography.

The others should be left alone.

Any man or woman of average intelligence and culture knows the difference between the two kinds of book and has no difficulty in distinguishing one from the other. 

No can any reasonable person doubt, after watching the law as it stands at work, that it causes more harm than it prevents.

The average citizen is nowadays certainly a reader and quite frequently a writer.

In both capacities he is injured, annoyed, and possibly corrupted, by the censorship as exercised at present.

Nothing can be more insulting to his intelligence and exciting to his curiosity than to be told there is a book that he must not read because in the opinion of somebody else it would corrupt him to do so.

As was amply proved last autumn [Woolf is referring to the suppression of Radclyffe Hall’s novel, The Well of Loneliness, in 1928.], prohibition often serves only to stimulate the appetite.

Discussion is roused where there would have been indifference; knowledge is sought where there would have been ignorance.

The vice in question becomes a topic of conversation, and young people are made to think it attractive because it is fashionable and forbidden. 

Even more serious is the effect upon the writer.

The police magistrate's opinion is so incalculable – he lets pass so much that seems noxious and pounces upon so much that seems innocent – that even the writer whose record is hitherto unblemished is uncertain what may or may not be judged obscene, and hesitates in fear and suspicion.

What he is about to write may seem to him perfectly innocent – it may be essential to his book; yet, he has to ask himself, what will the police magistrate say?

And not only what will the police magistrate say, but what will the printer say and what will the publishers say?

For both printer and publisher will be trying, uneasily and anxiously, to anticipate the verdict of the police magistrate and will naturally bring pressure to bear upon the writer to put them beyond the reach of the law.

He will be asked to weaken, to soften, to omit.

Such hesitation and suspense are fatal to freedom of mind, and freedom of mind is essential to good literature.

Moreover, if modern books become so insipid, so blameless, so full of blank spaces and evasions that we cannot read them, we shall be driven to read the classics, where obscenity abounds. 

For these reasons I think it desirable that the law should distinguish clearly between books that are written or sold for pornographic purposes and books whose obscenity is an incidental part of them – between Aristotle’s works as they are sold in the rubber goods shops, that is to say, and Aristotle's works as they are sold in the shops of Messrs Hatchard and Bumpus. [Respectable bookshops in central London].

Source

Virginia Woolf: On Words

[earlgraytay]

I'm looking at the Thompson index of folklore tropes because I'm writing more fairy tales for a client, and so many of the ones that are about knowing your place are things we've done.

"Don't try to measure the height of the heavens"- we've done it. it's called the Karman line, it's about 62 miles, and past that "height" has no meaning anymore

"Don't try to measure the depth of the ocean"- we've done it. at its deepest it's about 7 miles.

"Don't try to fly"- Messrs. Wright would like to have a word with you.

and the sad thing is, so many people still live by this kind of folktale-rule, and more like them. "don't try to be too wise", "don't try to be too happy", "don't stick up for yourself", "don't try to change your body to be something that feels good" - all morals of commonly told folktales on this index.

people are intemperately wise and good and happy and are fine. people stick up for themselves every day and are fine. people change and grow in ways that feel good every day, and will keep doing it until the end of the world.

these rules are all just as wrong as "don't measure the height of the heaven" and "don't measure the depth of the ocean".

every time you talk about icarus, you should remember orville and wilbur, too.

[beautifulchris]

mischief managed

pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

wc: 3,2k

featuring: lee minho, kim seungmin, sf9’s chani, nct’s jaemin

summary: jisung tries to break every single rule with you

genres: hogwarts!au, partners-in-crime!au, ravenclaw!jisung, slytherin!reader, fluff, comedy

warnings: swearing

notes: I wanna apologize to jaemin for doing him so dirty, my baby doesn’t deserve this sdjkfqlk feedback is always appreciated! moodboard made by me, pictures found on the internet. reposting works from my old blog

order of writing: chan - jisung - minho - hyunjin - jeongin - seungmin - changbin - felix

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland

tag list: @badwithten @raethethey send ask/dm/comment to be added!

On the King’s Cross train station on your very first day, you almost missed the train because your dad absolutely wanted to take the best pic of his precious kid going to the mythic Hogwarts school. So you ended up in an almost empty compartment. The other compartments around were full and there was just this boy alone.

“Hey, can I sit here?” You probably startled him because he looked up at you with wild eyes but instantly smiled at your sight.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What are you doing all alone?” you asked as you sat in front of him.

He shrugged. “Looking at my chocolate frog cards collection.”

“Wow, nice. Can I see?”

He handed them to you, “Yes, of course. I’m Jisung by the way.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Since that day, you were inseparable and soon became partners-in-crime. Being put in different houses didn’t stop you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

After learning Alohomora in charms class, you wandered in the castle to find a forbidden office to open and what better one than the caretaker’s where a whole lot of interesting things were stored?

There, you found a few dungbombs that Jisung instantly took, confiscated brooms and chains. A lot of perfectly polished chains hung on the walls.

“I understand why he doesn’t stay here often,” you snorted and returned to your inspection. In a dusty cabinet named ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’, you found an old piece of blank parchment. It was mysteriously well conserved taking into account where it was so you put it in your pocket. Further inspection will be done to know how a simple parchment could be ‘highly dangerous’.

“I’m kinda disappointed. Sure we’ll use the dungbombs wisely but I thought there were more interesting treasures.”

“Don’t be so down yet Ji, I found a mystery to resolve. Let’s go before we get caught.”

Fortunately, you didn’t get caught. You both went to your common room, being a quiet place with almost no students at this hour. You showed Jisung the parchment and counted on his intelligence and logic to figure out how it worked. After a few minutes, he looked up at you and smirked.

“I feel like it’s in good hands now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he put his wand out of his pocket and pointed it to the parchment.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he simply said. You were going to question him when the parchment caught your eye. Ink was spreading on the paper and soon you could read:

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present…”

“The Marauder’s Map,” Jisung whispered with stars in his eyes.

“What is this? Open it!”

Jisung did as told and both of you were dumbfounded by what you discovered. A map of the whole school, including the secret passages that are hidden within its walls and the location of every person in the grounds, portrayed by a dot. This map, a true masterpiece, within your hands was a disaster for everyone else.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

Three years later, you knew everything you could possibly have learned about the school. Neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin could win the house cup as long as you both were in Hogwarts. No matter the amount of effort Seungmin, Changbin and Minho would make to earn points, they could never make up for your wickedness. You did earn points sometimes in classes when you answered correctly to a teacher’s question and you weren’t the only one to lose points either so you didn’t feel so bad. You did lose more points than you earned but shhh. Let's not talk about that.

One day, on your way to the lake after lunch, Gryffindor Jaemin called your name so you stopped in your tracks and waited for him to join you.

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to study with me after class? For transfiguration.”

Uh. Jaemin has never been your friend and the most he ever said to you before now was “Get out of my way, filthy Slytherin.” the second day of your first year. Therefore you were startled, to say the least. Plus you wanted to study with Jisung, not some acquaintance you never talked to and weren’t interested in.

“Not really, I already have plans for tonight. Thank you for the offer though.”

You tried to sound as nice as you could but without much convection and left before he could reply. A few meters away, Jisung saw the whole scene and wondered what you had told him because he looked displeased. He joined you and you smiled at him before intertwining fingers.

The next day, Jisung and you were sunbathing with a nice autumn breeze on a bench in the courtyard when someone came in front of you, preventing the sun from warming your face. You opened your eyes and were met with Jaemin and a few of his friends.

“Can you move please?” you politely demanded, since you didn’t want to start anything.

“Are you dating him?” he asked, pointing at your best friend.

“No?”

“Then why did you reject my date proposal?”

Oh my god. Really? You were going to put him in place but Jisung’s mocking laugh stopped you.

“Really dude? You want to do this here?”

“I don’t think you’re in the conversation.” Jaemin’s glare didn’t please you.

“Should’ve asked to talk to Y/N in person then instead of creating unnecessary drama.”

Jaemin looked like he was going to throw hands so you spoke before it went too far.

“Guys, let’s stay civil here. I rejected you cause I’m not interested in you, there's no other motive. Now can you let us be?” His friends laughed at him and you could swear you heard one of them say something about a bet.

“Wait, asking Y/N out on a date was a bet?”

“And what about it?” Jaemin said cockily. Jisung was fuming and you were disgusted by the boy.

“Can’t you respect people? No one deserves to be a bet’s victim. You guys suck.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you’re the type of guy who hides when it comes to fight.”

“Try me.” You knew by his glare that he wasn’t playing anymore. Jaemin was smirking but not for long.

“Let’s duel.”

Jisung was so fast to put his wand out, it surprised Jaemin. You tried to stop them but it was useless because their pride was at stake.

Before you could blink, Jaemin ended up mouthless and you heard a woman screaming but you didn’t listen, being amazed by the spell’s effect. Jisung took your hand and ran through the corridors, hearing the professor yelling she would remove twenty points from his house.

You managed to catch your breath while Jisung was answering an easy riddle —for him— to enter the Ravenclaw common room.

“I can’t believe you really did it.”

“He challenged me! You know I can’t say no to that,” Jisung sighed.

“I know. That was brilliant, by the way.” You sat on one of the comfortable chairs like you lived there —it wasn’t totally false— and you were followed by your partner-in-crime.

“Thanks! I practiced this one a lot, I couldn’t wait to use it for real.”

“I hope you didn’t do anything foolish,” said a voice behind you.

“Oh, Seungmin! I didn’t see you there.” Jisung turned around and smiled. Seungmin was reading a book in a blue armchair. He closed it and gave his attention to his friends. “I hope you’re not hoping too hard.”

“How much?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s innocent act didn’t work since the second time he used it but he was still trying three years later.

“Twenty,” you answered. Seungmin gave Jisung a look and he shrugged.

“It was fun and I don’t regret it.” He folded his arms and pouted like a grounded kid.

“Of course you don’t,” Seungmin loudly exhaled.

“You’ll make it up for it, won’t you?”

Seungmin sighed deeply. He felt like he had to work twice as hard to win back the points Jisung made their house lose but it was never enough. “I always do, but don’t you think you should calm down a bit?”

“Absolutely not. There’s still a lot of rules Y/N and I haven't broken yet, so many adventures and exciting moments to live.” Jisung smiled widely at you while Seungmin implored you with his eyes to stop him. Your gaze went from one to another without really knowing what to say and before you could, someone sat next to Jisung and typed on the table.

“What mischief are you going to commit today pals?” It was Chani, one of the chasers of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and a fellow 4th year.

“Hey Chani! Already done, Jaemin asked for a duel and I used Oscausi on him.”

“Oh I don’t know th-” Chani started.

“OSCAUSI? Jisung, are you crazy?” Seungmin got up so fast he startled everyone, including others around him.

“Don’t worry, he got his mouth back,” Jisung waved his hand with indifference, Jaemin deserved it after all. “Eventually.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, really.” Jisung and Chani just laughed at that and Jaemin unofficially became your target for a lot of future mischief.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“I haven’t lost any points in days, maybe I should start to pay attention in arithmancy class.”

It was this time of the year where the air was so cold you just stayed in your or Jisung’s common room and studied to prevent boredom.

Jisung pulled his robe hood over his head and gently slapped you in the back of the head. “Transfigure this quill into a rat and put it onto Jaemin’s head.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s a funnier idea.”

You lost ten points for it but you found it so fun you were back on track until the next cold day.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

You always loved the Ravenclaw common room. You didn’t dislike the Slytherin one, but it was cold and unfriendly when you weren’t a Slytherin yourself. Plus you loved warm places. What you liked the most about the Ravenclaw common room was the domed ceiling painted with stars. You could literally watch it for hours until having to go to your own dorm to sleep. If you weren’t friends with Jisung, you probably would never have been able to lose yourself in the stars because you weren’t that close with Seungmin or Chani and you didn’t really know any other Ravenclaws.

You were currently lying down on one of the couches, your head on Jisung’s lap, helping each other revise (yes, it happens!) for the history of magic test about the goblin rebellions you would have the next day, more concentrated on the stars than the subject. It was calming and it helped you stress less about the tests.

“Where’s Muffin?” you asked out of nowhere.

It made Jisung flinch but when didn't he? Just like she knew her name, she appeared next to you, purring loudly. You put her on your belly and patted her head lovingly.

“Don’t forget she’s my cat,” whined Jisung as he closed his book and put it on the coffee table next to the couch.

You smirked. “Don’t be jealous cause she loves me more.”

The elegant Siberian cat got up and rubbed herself against your best friend’s chest, waving her tail on your face.

“You were saying?”

You rolled your eyes and opened your transfiguration book which was on the floor. It was going to be a long night and you’ll probably have to go back to your dorm after curfew. Bless the marauder’s map in those moments.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin was coming up and Jisung had to practice more than usual as the seeker. He was going to play against Changbin after all. They both were really good so you wondered who would win the match. Gryffindor had won the first match against Slytherin and Ravenclaw won the one against Hufflepuff thanks to Jisung’s agility and speed.

You always followed Jisung at his training, it was the only moments he wasn’t trying to break the rules. He was pretty serious about Quidditch actually, even if after each training since your 3rd year, you went to drink a mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with Chani. It was like tradition.

The day of the match, you cheered on your team and your friends, so basically both teams. The competitive mindset of the two seekers could be felt from afar, everybody knew the match was going to be intense. At the end, the score was 350-200 for Slytherin, because Yugyeom, one of the Slytherin beaters, sent a bludger on Jisung’s broom, causing him to spin around and allowing Changbin to catch the golden snitch. It was a good game and Jisung didn’t fall so it was a double win.

Of course you would say that cause you're a Slytherin.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Ravenclaws shared the defence against the dark arts class with Slytherins so, naturally, Jisung and you were seated together.

“Hello everyone! Today’s lesson is about acromentulas.” As the professor proceeded with his lecture, you felt your strong partner-in-crime shiver in his seat. You looked at him and were surprised by how much he looked terrified of acromentulas, not that you could blame him, these giant spiders were scary as hell.

“You okay there, bro?” He didn’t answer and was so pale you thought he was going to faint. You tried to comfort him but he was frozen.

The professor, not giving a care about what was happening in front of his face, decided to show some photos of acromentulas and as if it didn’t trigger Jisung enough, he eventually showed a real one in a big cage. From what you’ve seen in your books, it was nearly a teen so it wasn’t that big compared to his adult size but it was still big enough to scare the hell out of Jisung. He literally fell off his chair and the sound made the professor pay attention.

“Jisung? What happened?”

“He’s really scared of acromentulas, sir. Can you please put it away?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

While the professor finally put it away, you helped Jisung sit back.

“You okay?”

“Not really. That shit’s so grim.”

“I know, take deep breaths. It’s gone, everything’s alright.”

His breathing was unsteady for a few moments but he quickly got his composure back.

“I’m sorry Jisung, didn’t mean to frighten you. Class’ dismissed. Except you, Jisung.”

Everyone left except Seungmin, who checked on his friend, Jisung and you.

The professor went to his office and came back with chocolate.

“Here, eat this, you’ll feel better. I didn’t know it was this horrifying for you.”

He accepted the chocolate and ate it slowly. “It’s okay, you couldn’t know. Arachnophobia isn’t cool.”

“I won’t show any spider in this class from now on, I promise.”

“Thank you sir.”

“You can go now, drink water and rest.”

As you left class, Jisung whispered in your ear. “I don’t need water, I need a good butterbeer.”

You both chuckled and, after saying bye to Seungmin who certainly left to go to the library to do his homework, went to the Three Broomsticks using the secret passage beneath the one-eyed statue by the stairs of your last class to drink one or two mugs of butterbeer.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Two months before the end of the year, Jisung had the baddest yet boldest idea so far. It was remarkable how he never failed to impress you.

“I’m going to use this potion on Jaemin, he’ll definitely leave you alone after that.”

“He left me alone after I put a rat onto his head but suit yourself, bro.”

You were hiding behind stairs on the third floor, waiting for Jaemin to walk down. Jisung was holding his flask tight in his hand. When you heard people talking, you discreetly looked up and saw Jaemin. Jisung didn’t hesitate and before you could react, his flask was emptied on Jaemin’s head. His hair slowly stood on end but it wasn’t all, it also turned into candy apple red. He somehow added Colovaria to the hair-rising potion and you were about to congratulate him when you got a glimpse of Minho upstairs.

Jaemin left, horrified, to the nearest bathroom to see the damage while Minho was casually walking down the stairs. Jisung lost his smile when he saw him and swallowed hard. Once arrived at your height, he opened his mouth.

“Rules are put in place to prevent hundreds of magically gifted hormonal hazards from accidentally turning themselves into sharks or losing an eye, or provoking the wrath of a giant spider, or blowing themselves up, or whatever. But here you are, trying to break every single one of them.” You almost felt relieved he didn’t scream at you.

“Look, I’m stupid, okay? And stupid people do stupid things. That’s a fact.”

You could have laughed at his excuse if Minho wasn’t staring at both of you like he was about to end you. He wasn’t generally scary but he was a prefect so when you did something wrong… well, let’s say you better not be seen by him.

“Do you use this lame excuse every time you do shit?”

“My other excuse is that it was Y/N’s idea but no one buys it.”

You looked at him in disbelief. Of course no one bought it, you were more like his sidekick than the mastermind.

“Not surprising. Anyway, fifteen points from Ravenclaw. I would have taken twenty but adding a transfiguration spell to a potion was really clever.”

He asked Jisung for a favor, talking privately in the nearest classroom for a few minutes. Then Minho left and Jisung came back to you with a big smile and you high-fived him. The Marauders Map usually prevented incidents like this and he wasn’t near this place when you last checked the Map. Minho literally came out of nowhere.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

On a fine and warm day, as Jisung and you successfully pranked Jaemin for the umpteenth time that year, he turned to you still laughing.

“You know what’s the strength of a duet? It’s to be two.”

“Thank you for your encouraging words. I now know you need me,” you winked.

The laughter slowly died down and the atmosphere became somehow serious. He sat on a bench and you joined him.

“Are you kidding? I’ll always need you.”

“Always? Sounds like a really long time,” you chuckled, more to tease him and put aside the fact that you need him just as much.

“Just wishing we’ll stay together forever,” he blurted out, his eyes concentrating on his shoes.

“You’re sweet. I would love that too.”

He lifted his head and looked you in the eye.

“Really? No need for the Imperius Curse then?” You blinked a few times, about to smack him when he smiled wildly. “Just kidding, I would never.”

“Anyway, go train for the match against Gryffindor, wouldn’t want Mark to catch the snitch before you, would you?”

“Won’t happen.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please let me know <3 and here's the masterlist!

[marvel-rhapsody]

Reunited | post Azkaban! Sirius Black x fem!reader

PostAzkaban!Sirius Black x fem!professor!reader

Warnings: reader was a gryffindor in school, horrid writing but I tried, set during POA, unedited so mistakes are mine

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: I've read some one shots with similar concepts like this one and wanted to try to write one myself.

✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

After graduating from Hogwarts some time ago, you never thought you would be back as a teacher. But when Albus Dumbledore comes to you personally and asks you to be the new Muggle Studies professor, you just can't say no.

Growing up as a half-blood, your father being a muggle and your mother being a witch, Muggle Studies was a breeze for you. Teaching it has also been a fairly easy task.

It's now your seventh year teaching at Hogwarts, and it feels like your whole world is crashing. News of Sirius Black's, your "technical" husband, escape from Azkaban is roaming throughout campus, and it feels like the walls are closing in on you. No one knows that you're married to him, though. You decided when you took the job to use your maiden name to stop any potential questions.

And, coincidentally, Remus Lupin is at school this year, too. The two of you have spent many days and nights reminiscing over your time at Hogwarts. He was truly your best friend all those years ago. After Lily and James died, with Sirius in prison and Peter dead, you and Remus fell out of touch. It was too hard for both of you to come to terms with what happened that night.

✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

Now, a couple months into the school year, Sirius Black has broken into the school and into Gryffindor tower. No one exactly knows what he's looking for. But Dumbledore and McGonagall have their suspicions.

You and Remus are now sitting in Dumbledore's office, waiting for one of them to tell you what is happening.

"We believe that Mr. Black is after Harry Potter..." Minerva says.

"That ridiculous, Minnie!" You shout. "Why would he want Harry?"

"To finish what Voldemort couldn't," Albus replies.

You scoff. "He would never. James was a brother to him, and I don't know what really happened with Peter. But I know, for a fact, that Sirius would never hurt Harry."

"Do we really know that, (y/n)?" Remus asks.

"I do, Remus."

With that, you leave the office to head back to your sleeping chambers to be alone. Classes are over for the day, and you just want to relax and get away from the chaos of the school term.

You lie awake for most of the night. Sleep would not come easily.

You cannot stop thinking about Sirius and what he was looking for in Gryffindor tower. It was Halloween night, so he must've known that the students would not be in the common room or their dorms. If he was really going after Harry, why would he choose that night, where no student would be able to spot him?

✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

It's close to the end of the school year, summer holiday just creeping around the corner. No signs of Sirius Black have been found in quite a while.

You and Remus are on good terms again after that meeting with Albus. The two of you are wandering around the castle together, as are a couple other professors, for a night watch.

You are walking around a corner when your hear Snape's dark voice coming from the hall.

"Read it," he says.

A new voice appears, belonging to Harry Potter. "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs offer their compliments to Professor Snape and..."

His voice now sounds so distant to you. Hearing those names brings back so many memories. Before you know it, you're standing with Lupin in front of Snape and Harry.

"A Zonko product, it seems..." Lupin says, a knowing look on his face. "I'll take it, since it is my area of expertise, as you said."

He pulls you along with him, beckoning Harry to follow. The three of you end up in his office.

"I'm honestly astounded that you didn't turn this in. If this were to turn up in the hands of Sirius Black, he could have used this as a way into the castle!" Lupin sounds furious, but you know it's only because he fears for the safety of the students.

"I didn't think of that..." Harry says. "I should tell you, I don't think that map always works. Because I saw a name on there of someone I know to be dead... Peter Petigrew."

You shake your head. "That's impossible.."

Harry shrugs before saying, "Just saying what I saw. Have a good night, professors."

Once he leaves, you grab the map from Lupin. "If he's right... we can prove that Sirius is innocent, Rem."

"I can't  believe I thought that he could have done this... I'm a terrible friend."

"No, you're not. The evidence against him was critical. You couldn't have known."

"But you did."

"I'm his wife, I always have had faith in him."

✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

A few nights pass when Remus comes running into your office.

"He's here, with Peter."

He doesn't have to say anything else to you, as you're now following him out to the willow, and entering the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack.

Everything starts to happen so fast. Remus gets Harry's wand away from him, and your daughter and Hermione pull Harry off of Sirius.

"Harry, just hear us out..." you say. "You said that Peter was on the map... This map has never lied in all the years I knew about it. Sirius didn't sell your parents out. He tried to save them, but the damage was already done. Peter had told you-know-who already. There was nothing any of us could have done."

"We trusted you..." Harry said. "And you didn't even tell me that the two of you were my godparents! You're his wife, and no one knows. Why should I believe you now?"

Severus shows up now, his wand pointed directly at Sirius. "I should have known that you were helping him. Dumbledore swears that you had nothing to do with his escape and breaking into the castle... but I knew."

You raise your wand at him. "Don't make me do this, Severus."

You pause, giving him a moment to lower his wand. When he doesn't, you yell, "Expelliarmus!"

His wand comes flying towards you as his body flies backwards towards the dusty bed in the corner of the room.

With that, Sirius grabs "Scabbers" out of Ron's hand.

"If we're wrong about this, I'll go back to Azkaban... But if we're right..." Sirius says.

"The right person will be punished for the death of your parents.. our friends," Remus finishes for him.

Peter is here, actually here. And it takes everything in you to stop Sirius from killing him. But Harry seals Peter's fate with one sentence.

"I don't reckon my dad would want to see his best friends become murderers."

Everyone starts to make their way back to the castle, when the clouds part in the sky, the full moon now shining down on the group.

"Get to the castle, now!" you yell to the kids.

Remus's body starts to transform in the moonlight.

✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

You help Harry and Hermione get Ron up to the hospital wing as quickly as you can.

Harry and Hermione try to tell Professor Dumbledore what happened, but he puts a stop to their rambling.

"You know the laws, Miss Granger, you must not be seen. Mister Black is in the topmost cell of the Dark Tower. Maybe more than one innocent life can be spared tonight."

"Of course, sir..." Hermione says, pulling Harry aside.

"I'll lock you in. Mind the time," Dumbledore says before leaving the wing.  

You follow the two students, "I'm coming with you... He's my husband, and I need to be there."

Hermione throws the chain of her necklace around the three of you and turns the charm three times.

It feels like a rush of wind, and then everything stops. You are still standing in the hospital wing, but the sun is still up and Ron is nowhere to be seen.

"Where were we at 7:30?" Hermione asks.

"I don't know... Going to Hagrid's?"

The three of you rush down to Hagrid's house, and Harry stops suddenly upon seeing himself, Ron and Hermione enter from afar.

"How are we here but also there? This is not normal!" Harry exclaims.

Hermione shows him her necklace. "This is how I've been getting to all my classes this year. It's a time-turner. McGonagall gave it to me and the beginning of term."

Before you know it, it's time to go rescue Sirius. You tell the kids to stay hidden as you and Buckbeak fly to the highest tower.

You find Sirius sitting against the wall in the dark cell, and you whip your wand out to break open the locks.

"Let's go, we don't have much time..." you say.

The escape is fast and painless, and you meet Harry and Hermione in the courtyard, away from any potential student gazes that could give your plan away.

"I owe you all... Thank you," Sirius says.

"I want to go with you," Harry tells him.

"One day... but for now, my life will be unpredictable.. Stay here with (y/n) and I'll try to contact you as soon as I can," Sirius pulls Harry into a tight embrace.

When he lets go, Sirius reaches his hand out for you.

Hermione pulls Harry away so the two of you could have some space before Sirius has to leave again.

Sirius rests his hands on either side of your face. "Thank you for believing in me, love. Maybe one day, we'll be together again."

You feel tears start to fall down your cheeks. Sirius is quick to wipe them away.

"Be safe, please."

"I'm going to let some muggles spot me far away from here... Hopefully that will keep the ministry away from the school. I didn't mean for it to be like this..."

You sigh, "I know... I wish I could help you get through all this, but I can't just leave. I am a professor, after all."

Sirius grins. "You'll have to tell me all about it when we reunite again."

[artiststarme]

Utter Chaos

Oof, this may be the dumbest and most chaotic thing I've ever written. I'm writing the second part to the fic where the Party forgot Steve's birthday so stay tuned. Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Robin was his best friend, his ride or die, his Platonic soulmate with a capital P. He knew she still wasn’t comfortable enough  to come out to the Party just as he wasn’t. So when she accidentally made a gay comment that outed herself, of course Steve jumped to focus everyone’s attention on himself. 

Robin was talking to Nancy about the failures of dating or something when it happened. She laughed at Nance’s comment about having crushes on poor choices. 

“Yeah, I had a crush on Vickie until I found out she had a boyfriend.” Robin’s eyes widened as soon as she realized what she said. 

“I mean-“ her panicked eyes whipped over to Steve’s and he knew he had to fix it. 

“How’d you get over it? My crush on Eddie just won’t go away.” He asked, sounding confident and nonchalant but his insides were riling. 

His words caused Eddie to suck in a deep breath of air and start choking. Steve looked at him and patted his back which only seemed to make the choking worse. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Eddie just gave an undignified whimper in response. 

Nancy’s eyes narrowed on Steve, “so what, you’re gay now?”

He felt oddly defensive in the face of her scrutiny and narrowed his eyes in retaliation. “No, I’m half-gay. What’s it to you?”

Robin cut Nancy off from the tirade that was sure to come, “Steve, it’s called bisexual.”

“Yeah, I’m that. I like guys and girls.”

Nancy paled a few shades, “that-that’s a thing?”

“Um yeah, obviously. I didn’t really realize it until I saw Eddie in the boat shed though.”

Eddie’s back tensed under Steve’s hand and he made a muffled shout of frustration and outrage. Steve just gave his shoulder a pat in commiseration. Yeah, he’d been there for months. Welcome to the club, Munson. 

The rest of the Party was silent. Dustin was staring between him and Eddie in unbridled glee like all of his wishes had come true. Lucas and Max looked unperturbed like they’d known for months which knowing them, they might have. Will looked hopefully ecstatic and El was smiling happily. Mike though, looked pissed. 

“That’s disgusting!” Mike yelled with his lip curled in disgust. 

“Shut the hell up, Mike!” Nancy yelled at her brother. 

Robin, Steve, and Eddie whipped their heads toward her but she just shrugged. “He shouldn’t talk to you guys like that. Plus, I’ve had a crush on Robin for weeks. I just didn’t know it was okay.”

Robin gasped obnoxiously and started hitting Steve’s shoulder over and over again. “Oh my god, oh my god, Steve! Oh my god! Can you believe this? Oh my god, no, does this violate our bro code? Oh no, she broke your heart. Of course you wouldn’t want me dating her.”

Steve just shook his head, “Robs, I just want you to be happy. I don’t mind if you want to date my ex. But if Nance hurts you like she hurt me, I’m gonna go after her and make her regret it.”

“Oh, thanks Steve!” She hugged him and he closed his eyes. At least everything had turned out right in the end. 

He didn’t notice Hopper and Joyce at the top of the stairs. They were both staring into the basement in confusion at what they’d just heard. All Hop could do was look at Joyce in utter befuddlement and mouth “what the fuck just happened?”

She just shrugged her shoulders, how the hell would she know?

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[messrmoonyy]

There is a line between making a reader be more innocent and/or submissive to the character you’re writing them with, and making reader just completely childlike. And some of you are starting to blur it just a bit too much.

You can make your reader be more ‘innocent’ in regards to a burly, ‘bad’ character like Arthur Morgan or Dutch Van Der Linde and not make them behave like a literal child.

It’s really bloody gross.

[terresdebrume]

Continuing this one disjointed long paragraph at a time don't mind me or ask where it's going bc I'm not sure either

The Agency, though nothing but a door on the outside, is actually fairly spacious on the inside. A wide square space oriented around an elaborate desk of dark wood, dark green walls with deep brown wooden panels, and an entire wall covered in bookshelves to the left. Crystal spies several encyclopedias, one shelf dedicated exclusively to a collection called "The Abjurationist's Essentials" and an assortment of little knick knacks ranging from a sending stone in a glass jar to the loveliest pebbles she's ever seen. To the right, an arched window takes up the full width of the wall, afternoon light streaming in even though it was starting to get dark outside. Around the window, both part of it's panel and not, green stained glass forms a narrow field, small birds, rabbits and deers frolicking happily between panels.

The overall impression is professional but not austere, the sort of space you could relax in as well as work. She does a slow circuit of the room, politely ignoring the door leading to another room between two bookshelves, and startles when music notes float into the air. Mr. Rowland, out of his armor, smiles when she finds him with his fingers on one of the lower shelves, the one where the wood is painted blue. Behind him, Mr. Payne has kept his outer robes on, though he did at least remove his gloves.

"Is this where you live?" Crystal asks after she's done taking it in.

It doesn't really look like a house, per se, but it's clearly not just a workplace either.

"More or less," Mr. Payne says, already scanning his shelves for, Crystal presumes, research material.

"We move through the country a lot," Mr. Payne adds, fiddling with a colorful leather ball that makes farting noises whenever it lands back in his hands, "this is more convenient than trying to settle in one place."

"So you haven't had a real home in twenty years?"

"You will learn, young Crystal, that one does not need a house to make a home," Mr. Payne says as he pulls a book out of the shelves and sits himself down at the desk.

His tone is dripping condescension, and Crystal is gearing up to answer in kind when Mr. Rowland offers to give her a tour. It's a blatant attempt a nipping a fight in the bud—Crystal has pretty much seen all there is to see, she's sure—but she's honestly too tired to argue.

[angryschnauzer]

I know this is super random but I didn’t think you were still active!!! I’ve been looking for active mcu/marvel blogs because all the ones I used to follow aren’t active anymore 🫠🫠🫠 do you know of any active marvel/mcu blogs? Writer or non writing blogs??

I live!

Kinda. I haven't been active in Marvel for a few years now, probably mid 2020 i switched over to Henry Cavill fandom, but then a lot of stuff happened from Christmas 2022 meant i had little to no inspiration to be on here. Then in October 2023 my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer and that kind of put an end to anything on here for me. He was given 6-8 months to live. He had brain surgery for removal of the tumour and 6 full weeks of radiotherapy, followed by 6 months of chemotherapy. In June this year he was told there was no regrowth of the tumour, and although he will be monitored for life and it will be a life shortening condition, he was given the thumbs up that life could resume. Anyway, last month i had the first 'day off' from all responsibilities in a solid 9 months. Family, friends, and hubby arranged for everyone to take care of everything, and i took myself off to the cinema for the first time in years, to see Twisters as i loved the original movie. Well, i don't know if its the sudden lift of stress, the fact that the movie was really good, or just the stars all aligning in the right place, but i felt that fun rush of inspiration for fandom again, albeit for a certain messrs Powell and Ramos this time.

Anyway, i have seen a bit of an influx of Marvel on my dash since Deadpool 3 came out, it doesn't interest me but people are more than welcome to reblog or recommend blogs that are active in Marvel from this.

xxx

[fatehbaz]

In the 19th century, British colonists faced several challenges in India, [...] [including] malaria. [...] The imperialists needed an answer to the problem and they found it in quinine. [...] [T]he British promptly embraced quinine, consuming tonnes of it every year by the mid-1800s. [...] Quinine was so bitter that soldiers and officials began mixing the powder with soda and sugar, unwittingly giving birth to “tonic water”. [...] [I]t prompted Winston Churchill to once proclaim, “The gin and tonic has saved more Englishmen’s lives, and minds, than all the doctors in the Empire.” [...] If by some good fortune malaria did not claim them, plague, cholera, dysentery, enteric fever, hepatitis or the unforgiving sun could. Preserving and protecting the body was [...] crucial to the success of the colonial project. As historian EM Collingham aptly summarised in her study, “The British experience of India was intensely physical.”

One way the colonists tried to deal with this challenge was through food and drinks. “The association between food and the maintenance of health was a concern of Anglo-Indian doctors, dieticians and the British authorities throughout the duration of colonial rule [...],” writes Sam Goodman in Unpalatable Truths: Food and Drink as Medicine in Colonial British India. [...]

---

The Medical Gazette, for instance, recommended treating dysentery with a “low diet” comprising thin chicken soup [...]. Botanist-physician George Watt too extolled the virtues of sago. In A Dictionary of the Economic Products of India (1893), he wrote that sago is “easily digestible and wholly destitute of irritating properties” and in demand [...]. For fever, weakness and sundry ailments, beef tea [...] was considered an ideal remedy. And for cholera, The Seamen’s New Medical Guide (1842) prescribed brandy during the worst of the sickness and half a tumbler of mulled wine with toasted bread and castor oil [...]. Ship masters and pantrymen would stock their vessels with foods with known medicinal benefits such as sago, arrowroot, lime juice, desiccated milk and condensed milk (the iconic Anglo Swiss Condensed Milk tins, later known as Milkmaid, enjoyed a permanent spot on British ships).

---

Businessmen too recognised the precarity of life abroad and realised that therein lay a perfect commercial opportunity. By the 19th century, numerous companies had cropped up across Europe, including in England, that would sell food in hermetically sealed tin containers.

One of these was Messrs Brand & Co. Recommended highly in Culinary Jottings for Madras by Colonel Robert Kenney-Herbert, Messrs Brand & Co had several offerings [...]: essence of beef, concentrated beef tea, beef tea jelly, meat lozenges, [...] potted meat, York and game pie, and A1 sauce [...]. Another company, John Moir & Sons, focused mostly on canned soups [...], selling oxtail, turtle, giblet and hare.

---

By the late 19th century such was the popularity of canned foods that rare would be the pantry in a colonial home that didn’t store them along with medical provisions like opium, quinine, chlorodyne and Fowler’s solution (an arsenic compound). [...] As Flora Steele and Grace Gardiner wrote in The Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook, “A good mistress will remember the breadwinner requires blood-forming nourishment, and the children whose constitutions are being built up day by day, sickly or healthy, according to the food given them; and bear in mind the fact that in India, especially, half the comfort of life depends on clean, wholesome, digestible food.”

To assist the British woman in this ostensible duty, there were a number of cookbooks and housekeeping manuals [...]. The Englishwoman in India, for instance, published in 1864 under the pseudonym A Lady Resident, had a whole section with recipes for “infants and invalids”. These included carrot pap cooked into a congee with arrowroot [...] and toast water (well-toasted bread soaked in water). Steele and Gardiner too had a few recipe recommendations [...], including champagne jelly (“most useful in excessive vomiting”) and the dangerous-sounding Cannibal Broth (beef essence), which they said should be consumed with cream [...] to treat extreme debility and typhoid. [...]

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One dish born of this encounter was the pish pash. The pish pash is considered an invention of the colonial cook, who adapted the kedgeree – the colonial cousin of khichdi – into a light nursery food. The famous Hobson-Jobson defined it as “a slop of rice soup with small pieces of meat” [...]. None other than Warren Hastings, the first governor-general of Bengal, gave confirmation of its efficacy when in 1784 he wrote to his wife from the sick bed [...]. There are enough records to show that the imperialists counted marh (starch water from cooked rice) and bael (wood apple) sherbet among their go-to remedies and benefited from the medicinal qualities of chiretta water and ajwain-infused water.

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Text by: Priyadarshini Chatterjee. “How food came to the rescue of the British in India.” Scroll.in (Magazine format). 26 April 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[asbealthgn]

here is the last one!! thank you so much to everyone who has read these it’s been a delight but also i am NEVER posting a fic like this again lmao (this one can be read alone btw!)

Winter 2007

Steve wakes from fitful dreams to an empty bed and briefly panics. Even after twenty years, he’s still haunted by memories of the Upside Down. He still gets worried when he wakes up and can’t see Eddie. 

He pushes back the covers and gets out of bed, feet hitting the cold hardwood floors. He tugs a robe on to combat the cold and then opens the bedroom door. As soon as it’s open, he hears Eddie’s voice singing quietly and he relaxes. Steve pads softly down the hall to the living room. It’s dark, but he can see Eddie by the window, silhouetted by the streetlights. He’s rocking their daughter in his arms.

Steve leans against the entryway and listens to his husband sing in his soft, husky voice. “There’s a place I like to hide, a doorway that I run through in the night. Relax, child, you were there but only didn’t realize and you were scared. It’s a place where you will learn to face your fears, retrace the years, and ride the whims of your mind.”

The floorboard creaks under Steve’s foot as he shifts his weight, and Eddie stops singing. 

“Hey,” he whispers, looking back at Steve. Steve pushes off the wall and moves over to the window to join him, putting one hand at Eddie’s waist and the other on his arm by their daughter’s head. 

“How is she?” Steve asks quietly.

“She’s good,” Eddie murmurs. “She was crying, but she’s her father’s daughter so she went right to sleep when I started singing Queensrÿche.”

“What a good girl.”

Smiling, Eddie turns his head to kiss Steve. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he says, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Take your time,” Steve says. He bends over to press a kiss featherlight to their daughter’s forehead, then kisses Eddie once more before heading back to their bedroom. 

Before he closes the door, he takes one more look at Eddie. He’s started softly singing another song. Steve takes in the sight—his husband and his daughter. There are still nights when he wakes up screaming from nightmares, nights where he’s not sure if he’ll ever see the sun again. But nights like this when he gets to watch his little family that he’s always wanted and didn’t know if he would ever have, he feels so happy he could burst. 

On nights like this, life is beautiful.

(part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21)

taglist: @adashofaroace @spectrum-spectre @girlwhoknewtheoriginoflove @cupc8keblonde @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @leeahpuppet @bidisastersworld @axltheedaddy @crushed-like-an-ant @whimsicalwitchm @hollysimone @awolfnamedaliac @gay-little-bitch @duckyreads @nelotegreitic @henderdads @iamsotiredman @thegingervulcan @mezmatch @stranger-poets-society @official-insanity-c @briceslayed @ohwelsh @lonestarcowpoke @lycriza @bejeweledbaby @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @cnfsd-bisexual @cheeseaddict-12 @wrenisflying @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @ash-a-confused-enby @grtwdsmwhr @edgelordesworld @vecnuthy @lightwoodbanethings @soulminyg @notbatman00 @steve-the-hairrington @lizisodd @artiststarme @queerbeansworld @thegingerrapunzel @ceaselessly-watching @idkwwhatimmdoiing @ashlynjessi @yes-im-your-mom @steddie-there @thefailcollection @beeing-stuupid @anteaterballs @crunchiestdonut @xpaperheartso @messrs-weasley @absentlurker @panicatthediaz @thing-a-ling @bornonthesavage @momotonescreaming @slit-wrist @ironwolf11 @camachameleon @evix-syne666 @hotluncheddie @steddio @desert-fern @rotato-potato @captain-daryn @birondragon @alienace

(once again just reminding you that an extended version of this is being posted on ao3. i have 5 chapters up right now and i’m currently writing chapter 8 :D)