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#Also me: LET ME CITE MY SOURCES -
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while source hunting i found "Determined Raptures": St. Sebastian and the Victorian Discourse of Decadence by Richard A. Kaye which i think is about what i was talking about a few months ago abt st sebastian always being drawn sexually, but it goes into why which is cool
link to me going on abt st sebastian always being so erotic that is mostly for me because i keep losing it and i need a link or else it will be lost forever
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quincybf · 1 year
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franz kafka - the metamorphosis / gege akutami - jujutsu kaisen / virginia woolf - jacob's room / felix pollak - the diary of anaïs nin volume five 1947-1955 / laurie halse anderson - wintergirls / vi khi nao - fish in exile / anis mojgani - here am i
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nereb-and-dungalef · 1 year
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man why is it when historical figures are being sexist it's bc they were a product of their time but when they acknowledge womens' rights they're being ahead of their time. as if there were no historical societies in which women just... had rights
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fantasy-costco · 1 year
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I think if a tumblr user says anything about history they should include Chicago style citations in the post. This is also true for other areas of study but I don't really know much about those so I only get filled with a blind rage when history posts are wrong. So that's what we need to fix first. For me.
#This is also true of my own posts and it's literally why#I try to only put history stuff in the tags instead of in proper posts#(so if I am wrong misinformation doesn't spread) and when I do I try to cite where I hot my information from#As best I can without doxing myself#Ie most of my information about maritime history comes from my job not classes so I only say 'I work at a history museum'#Not the specific museum I got that information from because that's not safe imo#Otherwise I'll say 'I got this from class' or 'I got this from a research projim working on' or a documentary or a book or etc etc#And if I say something like that you can always send an ask or a dm and I'll give you my sources!#But I don't include that stuff in actual posts because I'm at a weird point in my education#Where I'm technically trusted as a source of information for some people (working at the museum) but I still don't have my bachelors let#Alone the masters so I really don't feel comfortable positioning myself as an expert because I'm certainly not one#Which is why it makes me so frustrated when people who obviously have way less training than me (which is difficult! Like I said I won't#Even finish undergrad until this spring!) position themselves as experts and then just fucking#Lie about a field I care deeply about#Like on top of everything else I'm going into public history so it's about to be my job to clean up your mess. What the hell dude#This isn't about any specific post or person just the general trend of misinformation on this site#There is worse misinformation I know but I also truly believe that know history is necessary to making informed decisions about the present#And when you're mistaken about history or even worse completely rewriting it... That's bad#General rule of thumb if a history 'fact' 100%#Reflects your world view with no issues it's probably propaganda or at least not the whole story. With very few exceptions.#To quote Oscar Wilde 'the truth is rarely pure and never simple'#I made a lot of typos here don't worry about it. You get it.
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badassbutterfly1987 · 2 months
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(ID: A man wearing a loose pale uniform with light blue trim, possibly of East Asian design. He is looking off to the side with a look of worry. The silk belt around his waist is a darker shade of blue. End ID.)
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i like the idea of Holland changing his fashion a bit when he's king. While his original uniform is tied to his time serving Vortalis, it's also linked to his forced service under the Danes. So a new style for a fresh start.
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bmpmp3 · 6 months
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ouuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh footnotes my lover (makes out ^1
with the footnote
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orchidbreezefc · 7 days
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ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.
161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.
imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.
maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.
on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.
and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"
if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?
when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.
also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?
it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.
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paraicelife · 2 years
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No period for 3 months after abortion. Is it normal?
When should you worry about missing your period?
Rest assured, if you have not had your period this month or even longer, there is no danger. There are many different reasons why you may not have your period for a while: some are well known, others are more surprising.
Is it normal not to have your period for a month?
Did your period not start on the expected date or on the following days? Or have you even missed your period for 2 months or more? It's time to understand what's going on in your cycle. The first explanation, of course, is the beginning of a pregnancy. You can buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy to find out for sure. If you have no period and the test is negative, here are some other possible causes.
No period after pregnancy
After giving birth, it is normal to have an absence of periods for some time. On average, they return 6 to 8 weeks after the birth, sometimes much later if you are breastfeeding.
The absence of menstruation lasts for the same length of time after a miscarriage.
After a medically induced abortion, the absence of menstruation also lasts for one and a half or two months, but as contraception is usually started immediately after the abortion, the menstruation does not reappear.
If you stop or pause taking the pill, the absence of periods...
If you take the pill, the bleeding you have after each pack is not a real period because ovulation is blocked by the hormones. They are therefore rarely heavy and sometimes they simply do not occur, especially if you are taking a micro progestin-only pill. But even if there is no period on the pill, or no period during the pill break, contraception is still normally effective.
Good to know: there is normally always a small amount of bleeding during the week's break between two packs of the oestroprogestogenic pill. If there is amenorrhoea, a pregnancy should be investigated (sometimes due to a missed pill, for example).
After stopping the pill, you may have no periods for a few months. If it lasts longer than 4 or 5 months, do not hesitate to consult a gynaecologist or a midwife: they can prescribe a hormonal treatment so that everything returns to normal.
If you are wearing a hormonal IUD, it is logical that you should not have any periods at all, as the IUD blocks ovulation. There are different dosages for hormonal IUDs, so you may have your period if the dosage is low.
However, if you notice that you have no periods while wearing a copper IUD, this is not normal: take a pregnancy test or consult a doctor or midwife.
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dukeofankh · 3 months
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Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.
I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.
...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"
And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.
MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.
The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.
In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.
The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.
And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.
I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.
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contact-guy · 25 days
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“#I read so many gay Victorian love letters and books to get the tone right lol #Plato‘s symposium reference was THE way to signal you liked men in the late 19th century“ would you mind sharing some of your sources? 👀 I also want to write gay Victorian fanfiction am just naturally curious about the victorians
Omg 1000%, let me cite my sources:
Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteeth Century by Graham Robb - this book is a treasure trove of well researched information. A lot of queer history focuses on men and I really appreciate all the stories about women in this one. It’s 20 years old and by (as far as I can tell) a straight author, so there’s some limitations - a total lack of awareness of bisexuality and trans identity - but I really enjoyed it regardless. There’s also like four pages where he discusses Sherlock Holmes as an iconic gay protagonist that changed my brain.
Fanny and Stella by Neil McKenna - a heavily researched story of two trans femmes in Victorian England, the crossdressing trial that scandalized London, their sisterhood and surrounding community, and the love triangle they were involved in. It’s written in a VERY fun and gossipy way, with a ton of primary sources, and is such a compelling story! This author also wrote a book about Wilde I haven’t read yet.
Gay History and Literature by Ricor Norton - it’s a website, not a book (I can’t find his books except at really high prices!) but it’s an obsessively compiled list of…basically…what it says on the tin. There’s a collection of gay love letters and newspaper clippings that are fascinating to read!
The Portrait of Mr. W. H. by Oscar Wilde, heard of him? This is my favorite Wilde story! It’s about the theory that Shakespeare’s sonnets were written to a young man, and how the desire for proof drives a man to death, and the frustrations and joys of looking for yourself in long-dead writing.
Before Queer Theory: Victorian Aestheticism and the Self by Dustin Friedman - reading this book felt like making my brain lift weights, but it was really interesting - it’s about the Aesthetic movement and how modern queer identity began in the nineteeth century.
Maurice by E. M. Forster (not technically Victorian but close) is a story written in 1913 about gay love (published in 1971 and dedicated to “a happier time” 🥲). It gave me some ideas about how a confession could play out. Plato’s Symposium is used as a pickup line, of course.
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thankskenpenders · 4 months
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Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.
First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.
Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.
The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...
I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.
The why
I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.
Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.
But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)
The what, how, and when
So here's the plan.
Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.
After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.
I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.
I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.
So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?
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saetoru · 2 years
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#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.
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「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced
♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!
♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader
♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)
♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON
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the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline. 
you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?
“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter. 
“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all. 
“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”
shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it. 
“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”
“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”
“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”
“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”
“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA. 
you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—
“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.
you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.
“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”
“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”
“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems. 
“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”
“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”
“okay. love you, you’re the best.”
“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.
it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off. 
and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send. 
and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes. 
“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry. 
the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)
you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone. 
please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email. 
suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.
———————————————
you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again. 
your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself. 
but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.
“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.
“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him. 
you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”
“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”
oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?
you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.
“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”
“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”
“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider. 
“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”
“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off. 
why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much. 
“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”
you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”
you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.
“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”
geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them. 
your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole. 
“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly. 
now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck. 
but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.
he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably. 
“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”
“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”
“now—”
“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly. 
something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all. 
maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do. 
“w-what are you implying—”
“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”
“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”
“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”
“i—”
“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?” 
you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely. 
“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor. 
“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap. 
geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been. 
you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too. 
and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands. 
“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.
your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly. 
“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”
you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”
“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine. 
“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice. 
his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings. 
“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly. 
“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”
“sucked your dick?” you grin.
“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk. 
“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.” 
“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit. 
“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”
“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat. 
the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him. 
“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”
your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth. 
“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps. 
you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name. 
the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep. 
“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.” 
for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric. 
“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”
he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move. 
“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.” 
you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.
“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!” 
“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead. 
perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him. 
your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you. 
the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest. 
“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.
“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”
geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic. 
there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans. 
“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”
it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours. 
“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”
he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster. 
“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—” 
his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper. 
your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles. 
“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”
“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”
“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.” 
and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.
instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep. 
“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.
after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.
it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.
you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.
“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.
“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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ms-demeanor · 2 years
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I was once the maid of honor for a friend and the bride and the other bridesmaids turned hanging out with me into a drinking game where everyone had to finish their drink each time I said "studies suggest..." or "I read an article about..."
This was, unfortunately, at least the second group of people to do something along those lines - the editorial team of my literary magazine got into the habit of unanimously saying "studies suggest" each time I let that slip.
Both groups tried strenuously to catch me out and see if I'd been making up the studies or articles in the discussion, but unfortunately for them I had read an article in which studies suggested that source amnesia was a major issue with the spread of misinformation and had rigorously attempted to memorize the sources of all the things I was citing so that there could be no confusion about attempts to obfuscate.
Also this is how normal conversations happen in my family; my dad and I will angrily throw citations at each other about the etymology of a kind of soup.
So I guess what I'm saying is I've been this obnoxious approximately forever and if you don't love me at my adversarial, cranky ranting then you don't deserve me at my adversarial cranky ranting because that's it, that's what I've got.
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curioscurio · 3 months
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Reading a lot of Sherlock Holmes, and trying to draw victorian men accurately will lead you to learning that people wrote on their shirt cuffs often in ink because they were detachable and usually made of extremely starched linen or PAPER. working class men would find them stiff, overly formal, or not worth spending the money on it, but if you were mid to upper class then it was expected that you wear just as much complicated, sillohuete focused shapewear as women. Victorian men also wore corsets, especially military men, to achieve that puffy chest and flat stomach look around the 1820's.
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The male corset fad had died down a little around the turn of the century (1880-early 1900's) as women fought for more comfortable and less oppressive shapewear, and effeminate men ridiculed for wearing the once fashionable and even medically recommended undergarmet. However, the male corset in the 1880's was still fairly popular enough to be advertised by dressmakers!
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(Forgive me not citing my sources at the moment, but these advertisements I believe are dated around 1880 when mens corsets fell out of popular style but were still available and fashionable in certain circles.)
Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that Dr. Watson, being both a medical and military man... probably wouldn't have worn a corset at the time of his deployment around 1880, unfortunately. ( I know, we're all dissappinted.)
Not that he couldn't wear one if he wanted to! But based on ACD cannon, I really feel that he would not be the kind of guy to wear one. Call it speculation, but if I had been deployed and then shot in the shoulder and leg, wearing a corset would be all but torture on my body. Let alone trying to wrestle an injured soldier out of one while trying to stitch him up. Corsets for military men were more of a fashion statement than a medical device; and even then, it was only helpful for orthopedic reasons (back problems mostly).
It was also around that time that the Women's Dress Reform movement began. Despite the Sherlock Holmes novels being ripe with period-typical misogyny, I like to imagine that Watson would side with the women and medical professionals on this one, in that they were often restrictive, unnecessary, and medically harmful in the long run.
Sherlock Holmes, however, absolutely has a large variety of both male and female corsets for various disguises and probably wears them often. This isn't explicitly stated in canon or anything, I just feel it in my heart.
Sorry if this is all over the place or not completely accurate! I went down a rabbit hole but am totally open to any corrections! Also I think the idea of Watson lacing up Holmes and grumbling about corsets is a funny visual lol
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xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 months
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Poisoned out of Love
A giggle followed by shushing sounds had Sirius mentally preparing himself for whatever mess the troublesome duo had made this time. It was a shame that Remus was still out cold from yesterday’s full moon.
“Are you sure this is the right recipe?” Harry asked, no doubt with his hands on his hips—something he picked up from Remus. “It smells funny.”
“That’s the whole point, Harry,” Draco said with so much sass that it had Sirius snickering behind his hand the closer he got to the kitchen. “Poison is supposed to stink.”
Poison?
“What’s going on here?” Sirius demanded as he rounded the corner and came to a standstill at the sheer disaster that replaced what used to be a clean kitchen.
“Nothing,” they said in unison, innocent eyes blinking up at him. Yeah, that quit working on him years ago.
“That might have been believable if you didn’t have dirt on your chin, Draco. And Harry you have something slimy on an ear.”
Instead of cleaning off themselves, they cleaned each other. Sirius tried to remain strong and firm, but his heart melted when Harry gently wiped Draco’s chin.
When Draco grinned—a front tooth missing—and giggled as he wiped whatever the hell Harry managed to get on his ear, Sirius was pretty sure his heart exploded.
They were too cute.
“What is this I hear about poison?”
As expected, Harry rubbed his shoe into the floor, contrite and already apologetic. Also expected was the way Draco stomped his foot and crossed his arms.
“I’m not sorry!”
“I know you aren’t, Draco. You never are,” Sirius sighed, coming closer to the table. He blinked rapidly when he realized the ‘cauldron’ they used was actually the dog bowl.
“What’s in this?” Sirius wrinkled his nose at the smell. He probably should have asked better questions or scolded them properly like Remus would have, but where was the fun in that?
“Poop.”
“Milk.”
Sirius closed his eyes before placing his head in his hands. “I’m not even going to ask. What possessed you to want to create this monstrosity?”
When Harry opened his mouth, Draco turned to him angrily.
“No, don’t tell him! If you tell him then he won’t let us poison McMillan.”
McMillan? He couldn’t remember what their kid looked like, but as far as he knew McMillan was their classmate in Magical Care for the Youth.
“I’m not going to let you poison McMillan at all.”
Another foot stamp had him huffing a laugh as he debated on whether it would be rude to vanish their ‘potion’.
He knew better, he really did, but he still asked, “And what did McMillan do that deserves a good poisoning?”
“He made Harry cry!” Draco said, hand slamming on the table. “That’s not okay. No one gets to make him cry.”
That little snot nosed brat made Harry cry? How dare he.
“Carry on then.”
Harry and Draco barely began to cheer when a disappointed, “Sirius, really?”
Sirius turned around; hands raised as he tried to think of an excuse.
“Save it,” Remus waved a hand as he made his way to a chair and collapsed down. “I knew something was wrong when those two went quiet. It’s never a good sign.”
Two outraged, “Hey!”
“But Moony, he made Harry cry! My little baby cried!”
“I’m not a baby.”
“Sometimes parents say that,” Draco said solemnly. “My father says that every time I dress up for galas.”
“You are adorable in your dress robes,” Sirius agreed, cringing at the fact that he agreed with Lucius on anything.
“What about me?” Harry pouted. “Am I cute?”
Before they could respond, Draco nodded rapidly, hair falling into his face. “The cutest!”
Harry blushed, twirling a little at the praise. How come he never did that when Sirius praised him?
“Yes, you are both cute,” Remus said, eyes closed and head resting on the table. Sirius ran a hand down his back, rubbing out any knots that he could find. “But not cute enough to get away with poison.”
“Aww, not fair!” Harry pouted.
“If I could cite my sources on why we should be allowed to, can I then poison him?”
Remus lifted his head, brows raised and reluctantly intrigued. “What kind of sources?”
“No,” Sirius laughed, for once feeling like the adult that he pretended to be. “No poisoning him. How about we settle for a strongly worded letter to his parents?”
Draco’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t approve.”
Sirius took a deep breath. Why couldn’t Harry have come home best friends with another child?
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he deadpanned. “Now, let’s clean this up and get ready for our monthly fun day.”
Draco and Harry gasped, rushing around the kitchen to put everything away.
“Ice cream!”
“Pizza!”
“Movie!”
They continued to shout until everything was clean and they dragged Remus to the couch. Every month on the day after the full moon, they all squeezed onto one couch and indulged on all of Remus’ favorite things in an attempt to make him feel better.
“Sirius, you’re my favorite cousin.”
“What do you want, brat?” Sirius narrowed his eyes, hating that his chest puffed out at being Draco’s favorite.
“Can we watch a scary movie?”
“No,” Remus shook his head. “The last time we did that you refused to go home for a solid week. As much as I love you, you don’t live here.”
Draco blushed, face heating up as he admitted, “That’s because Harry is my comfort pillow.”
Sirius saw the way Remus melted at that, and he was right there with him.
“Do we have anything pressing this week?” Remus asked, already giving in much to the enjoyment of Draco and Harry who were jumping up and down.
“No, and I don’t think Narcissa will mind as Lucius has business in France.”
“He doesn’t have business,” Draco argued, nose wrinkling. “Father has no job.”
Sirius snorted, ignoring the elbow in his side from Remus.
“Alright, we can watch a scary movie.”
“And I can stay for two weeks?” Draco asked, innocent eyes that were never innocent blinked up at him.
“One week.” Sirius couldn’t believe that he was negotiating with a child.
“Three weeks.”
Remus laughed, waving away Sirius’ glare as he continued to laugh.
“One and a half,” Sirius countered.
Draco made a considering noise, one finger on his chin as he thought about it. “Deal, but I get to bunk with Harry.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to separate you two.”
“Come on Draco,” Harry pulled on his friend’s hand. “Let’s go get the drinks.”
The sound of excited talking, little giggles and laughter echoed back to them, and it filled Sirius with warmth.
“We’ve got good kids.”
There was a time when he would have argued that they only had one kid, but now there was nothing to it.
They had two kids, and they were pretty perfect if he did say so himself.
Poisoning and all.
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potato-lord-but-not · 2 months
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“There’s something aesthetically pleasing about the word noon. Its palindromic spelling feels appropriate for the middle of the day, when the sun is directly overhead and the hands on the clock are pointed upward in a straight line. It’s even spelled with letters found more or less in the middle of the alphabet.” (“What Time Is…” par. 1)
Perhaps unfortunately for my argument, this article goes on to explain how the word ‘noon’ originally referred to the ninth hour of the day, that of course being 3 o’clock; because the sun and with it the people rose at six. It is derived from the Latin word for ‘ninth’, ‘nonus’. The word’s meaning apparently shifted during the twelfth century, because of the prayers of monastic orders. The second of three daily prayers would occur at noon, and the time of this prayer eventually became earlier, landing at twelve. This is believed to have been so the monks could break their fast sooner. Of course, this is not universally agreed upon and other theories include shifts in seasonal daylit hours, and European Medieval people’s struggles to have accurate timekeeping.
None of my sources suggest that three o’clock was considered the middle of the day at any point in time, therefore I would like to argue that the word noon did not originally refer to the middle of the day, but eventually, when it was given to the time that is more deserving of that title, came to do so. I believe that the denotation “middle of the day” is something that is both scientifically and culturally awarded, and that for whatever reason the people (however unknowingly) creating the Old/Middle English language believed twelve o’clock to be so. If you wish to create your own cultural norms, by all means go ahead, just remember that the word culture refers to a group, so you’ll need to find some people who agree with you. (Which, hey, maybe you already have, maybe most people agree with you and I’m just being pedantic.)
Anyways um hi, sorry about this, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely to send you this, because the idea of doing so was too funny to me to not.  Also, I just discovered that the Oxford English Dictionary website has a pay wall these days and I am DEVASTATED I tell you, devastated. But yeah, I’ll stop, have a good weekend, I love you, I hope your morning spent on public transit hasn’t been too boring.
Works Cited
“Culture Definition & Meaning.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.
“Noon (n.).” Online Etymology Dictionary, www.etymonline.com/word/noon. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.
“What Time Is ‘Noon’?” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/noon-history-ninth-prayer-hour-nones. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.
OFC you’re leaving citations on A TUMBLR ASK OH MY GODDD anyway I do believe I’m starting a cultural shift because everyone I’ve asked so far has NOT said mid-day is noon they’ve ranged from 11-1 to 1-2 (albeit a bit earlier than my 2-3 answer but STILL)
Yknow what fuck it let’s do a poll bb
anyywayyyy everyone say hi to my girlfrienddd give them a nice warm welcome to tumblr <3
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