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sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog · 2 months

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Hi. I've started writing a semi-weekly TB Newsletter, if you're interested in that kind of thing. Here's the second letter--about public-private partnerships, leprosy, and my forthcoming big announcement about expanding access to tuberculosis care. You'll hear more about that on Thursday. Anyway, here's the newsletter. You can sign up here.

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In advance of the Big Announcement this Thursday, I made a vlogbrothers video today on how we end TB–with the comprehensive care plan often known as S-T-P, which is short for “Search, Treat, and Prevent.” But one thing I didn’t discuss in that video is the downstream benefits of comprehensive TB care.

Once you’ve hired community health workers to screen for TB, it becomes much easier to screen for other illnesses like diabetes, high blood pressure, and non-TB lung issues (especially lung cancer). TB is notoriously a disease of vicious cycles–a disease of malnutrition that makes malnutrition worse, a disease of poverty that makes poverty worse, and so on–but addressing TB can be a story of virtuous cycles: TB survivors become TB advocates, as I’ve seen with my friend Henry in Sierra Leone. More effective TB treatment leads to less stigmatization of the disease, as communities come to see the disease as curable and survivable rather than terrifying and deadly. And better access to TB care leads to a stronger overall healthcare system, because more community health workers are better connected to more primary healthcare clinics, which allows communities to better address all kinds of health problems.

—

Mycobacterium tuberculosis is not the only bacteria of its family that causes a lot of human suffering; there is a closely related species called mycobacterium leprae that causes the disease known as Hansen's Disease, or more commonly leprosy. There are still around 200,000 cases of leprosy diagnosed each year around the world, and while the disease is curable, it also remains–especially if not caught and treated early–a significant driver of suffering and disability in our world.

There are many connections between TB and leprosy: Not only are the bacteria that cause these illnesses very similar, but patients have often expressed similarities in experience. TB patients who were encouraged or forced to live in sanitariums often compared themselves to lepers. One disheartening parallel between the diseases is that in both cases, those living with these illnesses are often abandoned by their families and must make new social connections within the new community of “leper” or “consumptive.” Also, both Hansen’s Disease and TB continue to exist largely because of systemic failures rather than due to a lack of knowledge or technology.

—

I really recommend Dr. Salmaan Keshavjee’s TED talk about how we ended TB in the U.S., and how we can end it using the same strategy around the world.

—

Last link from me today: I’ve been thinking a lot about the complex intersection between public and private investment (for reasons that will be clear on Thursday!) and I keep coming back to one infographic in an excellent paper (https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0256883) about the public money that was poured into the creation of the GeneXpert Machine, which can quickly and accurately test for TB. The GeneXpert machine has created a lot of profit for Danaher’s shareholders, and it has also created some societal benefit, but it could create a lot more societal benefit if it created less profit for Danaher’s shareholders. This tension seems to me one of the defining features of 21st century life. Anyway, here is the infographic:

That’s the money–over $250,000,000 of it–that came from taxpayers (mostly in the U.S. and Europe) to fund the creation of the GeneXpert Machine. And yet, this tech largely funded by the public is controlled entirely by private enterprise. I’m troubled by that model of value allocation, even if I still believe that private money and private enterprise have important roles to play in fueling innovation. But taking a quarter billion dollars of public money and then claiming total ownership over a technology, and using that ownership to deny the technology to the world’s poorest people, seems like a deeply flawed system of resource distribution to me.

I’ll see you on Thursday. I’m nervous and excited.

DFTBA,

John

#tuberculosis #it's so funny how this became my job #not like my paying job but the one i do and think about all the time #like of all things #it was this #this is my hobby #anyway #beats jkr's horrible fucking hobby anyday

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 2 months

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Lightweight: Hazbin Hotel

Vaggie: (enters the new hotel after an arms meeting with Carmilla Carmine) Ugh.... I need a-

Angel: (pops up out of nowhere and holds up a cocktail) Drink?

Vaggie: ..... (Takes the drink, secretly appreciative) That was... oddly fast.

Angel: Not really. This was Charlie's, but Husk had to cut her off.

Vaggie: (sputters) I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!

Angel: (giggling like an imp before grabbing Vaggie's hand and dragging her down to the bar) You gotta come see this!

Charlie: (demon mode, suit coat missing and her shirt mostly unbuttoned, bowtie undone, snarling and flexing her claws at a mirror like a puppy seeing its reflection for the first time)

Vaggie: Uh.... What?

Angel: Watch this. (To Charlie) How's putting that homewrecking bitch into submission going, Toots?!

Charlie: (turns to Angel with an excited, fang filled smile) I think I got this bitch on the ropes! *gasp* Hi, Vaggie!!!

Husker: Oh, this is gonna be good.

Charlie: (eyes shift towards the mirror and fire spews from her body as she turns her full attention to her reflection with a growl) Now, you listen here, you cum guzzling bitch.

Vaggie: (gasps and covers her mouth)

Charlie: Vaggie is MY girlfriend! Mine! I'm the one who crawls into bed with her at night. I'm the one who gets to give her kisses every day. And I'M the one who got to wear her thighs as earrings on Thursday night!!!

Angel: (howls with laughter)

Vaggie: (zips to Charlie and firmly grabs her arms) Okay! That's enough of that. It's time to get you to bed, little missy.

Charlie: (melts at Vaggie's touch) Okay, babe. I love you so much. (Glances back at the mirror as she's led away and snarls) You got lucky this time.

Angel: (waits until they're put of earshot) Please tell me someone got a video of her shadow boxing herself for thinking horny thoughts about Ol' Featherduster.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #husker #drunk charlie #hazbin hotel crack #incorrect hazbin hotel quotes #chaggie #charlie seems like she would be a lightweight #possessive charlie #demon charlie #puppy charlie

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mothdruid · 5 months

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The Physics of Love - Part Four

series masterlist | part two | part three| part five

pairing.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader (nickname Nova)

word count.

1.6k

warnings.

this content is meant for those who are 18 and older, 18+ content, mdni, smut, fingering, dry humping, swearing, almost getting caught.

authors note.

i wrote this because i need them to do something. i know that college students are horny (i am one, trust me) so i figured that they would both be a touch too busy but would try to have small moments together that were hot and heavy. tbh, this chapter doesn't have a lot to do with plot, so you could skip it if you didn't want to read smut

The texts between the two of you became more frequent. A lot more frequent. Good morning and goodnight texts were now the start and end to both of your days. You two were spending a lot more time together, time that wasn’t just your tutoring sessions. The two of you made it a habit to get coffee before your morning class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You had made it a habit of bringing him a snack during his research periods, even though he told you you didn’t have to.

“You didn’t need to do this, Nova,” Bob said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled at the nickname, something about the nickname he had started to call you. He only started calling you it out loud after you saw a text from Mickey on his phone pop up. That’s when Bob finally explained that was the code name Mickey gave you. Something about how you were new and exciting, just like a Nova in the night sky.

“Well, I had time in between classes, so I figured I’d stop by and bring you a snack.” It was starting to become apparent that you always had ‘time between classes’ to bring him a snack.

“It’s almost like you like me or something,” Bob joked.

“Nope, not at all,” you joked back.

Bob wrapped an arm around you, giving you a side hug. You wrapped your arms around his midsection lightly, looking at the table all of his research was on. It looked like a foreign language you had taken only one semester of, some of it making sense and some of it not.

“Gross,” you whispered, looking at the papers with a grimace.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” Bob whispered back. He placed the small bag of snacks you brought on the table, covering some of the papers up.

“How much longer do you have?” You asked.

As a grad student Bob didn’t really have specific hours for ‘class’. He didn’t really have an actual ‘class’. Yeah, Professor Coleman would come in and supervise him most of the time, assist him with research and projects. But for the most part Bob was on his own, running theoretical equations and talking with other grad students about their research. It seemed isolating and boring to you. Made you glad you wouldn’t have to do grad school for your degree.

“Maybe an hour or two, I’m waiting for Coleman to stop by and cross check something for me.”

“Ah,” you responded with.

There was a moment of silence before you two looked at each other.

“Do you know when he is going to be here?” You weren’t heavily implying anything, but you were implying something.

“He told me he’d be here at about 3:45.”

The both of you looked up at the clock. 3:15.

With that the two of you were all over each other. Bob had you backed up to the table all of his stuff was on, lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands were on your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, one hand on the back of his neck while the other rested on his shoulder. The frames of his glasses were pressing against the side of your nose, going slightly askew on his face.

This had been a common theme for the past few weeks. Well, two weeks to be exact. It had been two weeks since your date, and two weeks of never being able to go the whole way. It wasn’t because neither of you wanted to, because you definitely did. It was just proving to be harder than you initially thought. Between your two roommates, and Bob living with Mickey, it felt near impossible. Bob didn’t want your first time to be with someone else present, and neither did you. But the making out and dry humping was starting to get old.

You could feel Bob getting hard through his jeans, making you moan into his mouth. He groaned when he heard your sound, rocking against you a little harder. There was a slew of sounds coming from you, soft and needy. The groans coming from Bob were going straight to your cunt. Lips were moving to your jaw, trailing down to your neck while slotting a leg between yours.

Soft locks threaded through your fingers, which earned you a soft whine when you tugged them. You started grinding onto his thigh, moaning at the pressure you were receiving. One of Bob’s hand moved to your ass for a squeeze. With one hand on your waist and the other on your ass he started guiding you along his thigh. His kisses on your neck stopped, only for him to rest his head against your temple. His hot breath started fanning over your face.

“Ah fuck,” Bob groaned.

His glasses were digging into the peak of your cheekbone. You tugged his hair again and fisted the back of his shirt. You felt the pleasure mounting in your abdomen, urging you to rock against his thigh with more vigor. The way his cock was digging into your hip was helping encourage you. You whimpered his name, which pulled a groan from him.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Bob said, “feel you around me.”

“Please,” you whimpered.

The two of you knew damn well that this was dangerous, something that should not be tested. Fucking on campus was a one way ticket to trouble. But that was barely on your minds at this point. All Bob could think about was getting you wrapped around him. Feeling your heat consuming him, welcoming him in. Bob craved it so badly, but he knew that now wasn’t the time or place to fuck you for the first time.

Without warning the pressure of Bob’s thigh was gone. His hands moved to your waist and gripped you tight, turning you around to face the table. His hands moved to the front of your jeans, undoing the button. A moan escaped you when his hand slipped down the front of your jeans and panties. He was resting his head on the area behind your ear, every breath and groan being loud and clear to you now.

“This okay?” Bob asked while he slipped two fingers onto your clit.

The circling of your clit was making it hard to speak, your brain focusing only on his motions. You nodded and moaned is response, rolling your hips back against his crotch. Your hands were gripping the table tightly, not wanting to fall if your legs gave out from pleasure. Bob was nestling his face into the side of your head and neck, taking in your scent while covering your in his hot breath.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Bob whimpered as he rolled hips hips into your ass.

“All yours,” you whined.

Bob was practically hunched over you now. The weight of his chest pressed into your back, finger working your clit. His lips had latched onto the small spot under your ear lobe, sucking and licking the spot tenderly. Bob kept rutting his hips into your ass, the rhythm more feverish. It was all becoming too much for the both of you.

White hot pleasure washed over you, whines and moans falling from your mouth. Bob’s free hand snapped up to your mouth, muffling the noises that were coming from you. His fingers on your clit didn’t stop, only slowed but continued to work you through your orgasm. You felt Bob’s hips start to stutter against your ass and groan into your skin, signaling one thing.

The two of you slowly stopped your motions, Bob’s fingers and hips stopping. Your palms were flat on the table, trying to keep you standing straight up. These stolen moments between the two of you were some of the best you’d ever had. Honestly, they had slowly crept there way to the top of your college career thus far.

Bob was resting his head against your shoulder, trying to collect himself. He wished dearly the the two of you weren’t in the research lab. The idea of cuddling you in a bed, his or yours, was on the forefront of his mind. Being able to provide all the aftercare you deserved, not just a quick orgasm then rushed collecting of yourselves. He was still reeling slightly from his own orgasm, shocked he had come just from rutting against you.

“Hey,” you whispered. Your rested your head onto his, creating some form of cuddling.

“Hey,” Bob looked up at you with so much love in his heart.

He had never met someone who had captivated him as much as you did. You were truly a nova in his life. New, exciting, and bright. He was more than ready to be the white dwarf to your red super giant. Creating a runaway fusion of love, something that scientists would try to study for years. Wondering the exact make up of it all.

Bob pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, which earned a smile from you. Only a handful of seconds had passed by before you heard the door open. The both of you started to scramble. You quickly faced away from the door, buttoning your jeans quickly. Bob was finger combing his hair and adjusting his glasses, now wondering when he would be able to get to the bathroom to clean himself up.

“I’m going to act like nothing happened, okay?” Professor Coleman stated.

The both of you nodded your head, agreeing with him. With that you excused yourself, wanting to escape the awkward situation quickly. Professor Coleman gave you a smile and wave, telling you he would see you tomorrow in class, which you didn’t really wanted to be reminded about right now. Bob pressed a quickly kiss to your temple, promising that he would text you when he was done.

starboy: I can’t believe that Hondo almost came in.

Nova: you’re telling me! but he probably feels responsible, since he set us up

starboy: Maybe.

starboy: Do you have any plans for Saturday night?

tags:

@wkndwlff

@thedroneranger

@callsign-sprout

@redbarn1995

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd smut #tutor!bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x afab!reader #bob and nova #the physics of love

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 1 month

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Shovel talk

It was rather obvious that your child attracted weirdos. It was sadly a truth you had come to terms with. Iruma just had that magnetic charisma that drew people to him.

Now, just because you had come to terms with it did not mean you were turning a blind eye. Hell no! The netherworld was full of too many psycho's.

And while you couldn't constantly monitor your child 24/7. Despite some demons' attempts, **cough** Sullivan, Opera, Alice and Clara.**cough** You at least knew he needed to make his own choices without pressure.

Although...that didn't stop you from weeding out those with questionable intentions. That was a rather nice way of putting it. All things considered.

It was so cute how many students got frightened. All it took was a few well placed words. They'd run away crying after that.

But for the more persistent bunch.... it took more. More than just words. Actions were also necessary at that point.

So you may have asked for a little assistance from Balam. Nothing physical! You would never ask him to harm a student!

But his vines were certainly helpful in keeping them in place. After all, you'd rather not wrestle and chat at the same time. His bloodline ability was also useful.

Because it assured the young demons in question that you weren't a liar. That everything you said you'd do would happen. Not threats, promises.

So this is where you found yourself on a lazy Thursday afternoon. Classes had just ended, and no one was nearby to hear the conversation. You stared at the stubborn imp bound to the chair across from you.

"Balam." "Yes?" The nervous teacher stood behind you. Not that the student mood tell his teacher was nervous. It was just another intimidation tactic you utilized.

"Please be my lie detector for this conversation." The professor nods. The student straightened up. Obviously, thinking they were about to be interrogated.

How quaint, you really didn't give two shits about the brat on the chair. The less you knew about the creep, the better in your opinion. "Opera's cooking is the best." "Truth." "I'm really eight feet tall." "Lie."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs. "Perfect! Now that we've established that Balam-Sensei's magic is working, let's get started."

"I am not pleased with your behavior towards my son." Your words flat and to the point. "Truth," Balam says quietly behind you.

"What makes you think you have the right to stalk him and his friends? Or to try and drop random gifts in his locker?" You hold up a bag with questionable sweets.

"I... i..." They stutter. "Did you put a love potion in these? Yes or no?" You asked firmly. "N-no i-" "Lies," Balam rumbled.

His eyes narrowed, and he gripped the back of your chair. You could tell he was upset. Not that you could blame him.

Love potions on school property were made under careful supervision. Even then it wouldn't cause more than puppy love. This, however... was stronger.

"I'm not going to waste my breath asking where you got this. I'm sure the other teachers will be happy to squeeze the information out of you. " The gargoyle looms behind you a dark look on his face.

The student trembles as the vines tighten around him. "My concern is that you tried to use this on my precious baby." You toss the bag up, allowing Balam to collect it as evidence.

They pale drastically as you raise your gaze to meet theirs. "That doesn't settle well with me, you see." Your tone sends shivers down your listeners' spine.

"See, I was going to go easy on you for the stalking, Iruma has too many of those to count at this point." You sigh. "But you had to be stupid and want more."

You lean forward, keeping eye contact. "Do you know what I do to little imps like you?" You ask lowly. They frantically shake their head.

You hold up your hand, and Balam drops a tool into your palm. You hold it out in front of you. Allowing them to see. A large shovel.

"I cover them in honey and bury them in Anthills. I leave their heads above the surface so that I can hear their screams." You trace the shovel idly with one finger. "Truth." Balam stated.

The student was a crying and sobbing mess. Truthfully, you had only had to follow through with your words once. Once was enough truth that all others who heard were terrified.

"But seeing as you've gone against school policy, your teachers are in charge of your punishment." You could see them tremble, unsure of which was worse. You can't help the small smirk.

"I'm sure Kalego-Sensei would love to hear your disregard for the school's strict rules on love potions. And Dali-Sensei, oh! And we certainly can't forget about Marbas-Sensei!"

The sugary sweet tone you used as Balam starts to drag the student away. It's more terrifying than the icy tone from before. It was one that screamed. "You're screwed!"

But that's to be expected. You loved Iruma to bits. Anyone interested in him had to go through you first. It would be over your rotting corpse before anyone with ill intention touched him.

Speaking of which. You lift up your shovel, blocking the spear about to impale you. "Too slow." Some demons just took words too literally.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #reader #iruma suzuki #balam shichirou

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mages-pandoras-box · 23 days

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A letter arrived by mail and was placed on the top of Stolas's correspondences on his desk. It deserved the upmost attention because it was a letter from the Princess of Hell. Dear Prince Stolas, I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I am writing to extend a formal invitation to you for a delightful afternoon tea at your residence. As an esteemed member of Hell's social circle, it would be an honor and pleasure to meet you in person. I am looking forward to engaging conversation, delectable treats, and of course a fine assortment of teas. Please respond with confirmation of a time and date within the next week that would be most ideal for your schedule. Warm regards, Princess Charlie Morningstar

@letsstaytuned

Stolas just looks at the letter for a moment, blinking owlishly (ha) at the paper in his hands.

Not taking another moment, he writes a letter back.

"Princess Morningstar,

What an honor! I accept your invitation with open arms. My palace is always open for you and your family. I am mostly free within the hours of 4pm to 9pm, would Thursday the 15th work for you?

I am also looking forward to getting to know and spend time with you and I hope I can help you with whatever you need.

In high spirits, Prince Stolas Goetia,"

Stolas has an imp mail the letter immediately. As the next few days pass, Stolas can't help but wonder what the Princess of Hell needs from him and whether her visit will only be a social one.

#the owl boy; stolas #letsstaytuned #//finally an excuse to use this icon #//lol

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mywingsareonwheels · 1 year

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OKAY grammatical feelings about Falstaff&Hal and Thursday&Morse

“I know thee not, old man.”

As any gnarled, middle-aged one-time English literature graduate knows, “thee/thou/thy/thine” is the now lost English equivalent of “tu/toi” etc. in French, and other informal+singular second person pronouns in any number of languages. In English we now use “you” for everyone, which was originally the formal and/or plural one.

It’s quite a recent loss, actually. As in, its continuing use in parts of rural Yorkshire etc. was still a thing in living memory. If you’ve ever watched The Last of the Summer Wine you may note that Compo uses “thee/thou” at times. But I digress.

[oh this got a bit long. ;-) Cut for length and spoilers for series 9 of Endeavour. Also content-warning for a bit of fatphobia in a quotation from Henry IV part 2.]

One of the things I find fascinating when reading Shakespeare and his contemporaries is when characters switch between “you” and “thou”. Sometimes it’s desperately moving - that moment when Benedick first uses “thou” for Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing is... fuck. Done right it’s an absolutely fizzing moment even now. That sudden intimacy.

I’m currently making a much more concerted effort to revive my French at the moment, and there was a moment in an episode of Dix Pour Cent I was watching earlier where a character suddenly switched from saying “vous” to “tu” to another character, and I went back to rewatch it with the French subtitles because I was sure I’d heard it, and I had. The English subtitles added a “darling” to give that moment its full impact. It was huge.

So to the Henry IV plays. Hal’s been using “thou” for Falstaff much of the two plays, and vice versa. Strictly speaking as Hal is the heir to the throne and Falstaff is just a knight (and a pretty rubbish one at that) Hal has the right to “thou” him in a higher-status-to-lower kind of a way anyway, but that’s not how he uses it, and Falstaff “thou”ing him, and Hal letting him? It shows the closeness of their friendship and quasi father-and-son relationship, however fraught it frequently is. It’s also worth noting that some of Falstaff’s friends also have been known to use “thou” for Hal (including Pistol).

But we’ve also known since early in Henry IV part 1 and *boy* do we continue to get hints, that once Hal is crowned, he’s going to chuck Falstaff and the others for good.

So here’s the newly-crowned King Henry V (formerly Hal, now King in this text which I just nabbed from the Folger library website) being greeted by Falstaff and Pistol. [NB: This is the bit with the fatphobia I warned for above]

* * * * * * * * *

[Enter the King and his train.] FALSTAFF: God save thy Grace, King Hal, my royal Hal. PISTOL: The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame! FALSTAFF: God save thee, my sweet boy! KING: My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man. CHIEF JUSTICE, to Falstaff: Have you your wits? Know you what ’tis you speak? FALSTAFF, to the King: My king, my Jove, I speak to thee, my heart! KING: I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers. How ill white hairs becomes a fool and jester. I have long dreamt of such a kind of man, So surfeit-swelled, so old, and so profane; But being awaked, I do despise my dream.

* * * * * * * *

And he continues in that vein for about another twenty lines, during which Falstaff’s heart completely breaks.

It’s usual for Hal/the King to not exactly be on happy form himself. Alex Hassell, in the RSC version with Antony Sher as Falstaff, pretty much delivers those lines as one enormous panic attack. He’s even more immediately devastated than Sher’s Falstaff, who seems to be fending off his misery with denial. Jamie Parker’s Hal in the Globe production with Roger Allam as Falstaff is slightly less broken but not much less; Allam’s Falstaff just fricking falls apart before our eyes.

(Darn actor allusions in Endeavour. [sniffs])

Anyway. This brings me to Morse.

Thursday isn’t Falstaff. Yes, he’s arguably a father figure for Morse, and loves him. And in this moment Morse is at least considering rejecting him once and for all, with good reason. But Falstaff’s a consistently terrible person (not for any of the reasons Hal gives in that desperately painful speech, I more mean things like cheerfully accepting bribes leading to the deaths in battle of impoverished men he was meant to be leading and barely being sorry about it); Thursday is a mostly good but flawed and traumatised person who has made a series of massive fuck-ups under extreme pressure. Rather different.

And Morse and Hal use that phrase “I know thee not old man” so differently. Hal can’t know Falstaff any more and be the king he wants to be. It’s an absolute rejection.

Morse quotes Hal but does so more literally: he doesn’t know Thursday any more. There’s the potential for rejection there, but mostly he’s feeling lost and wants Thursday to help him understand why he did what he did.

Both these pairs part permanently. But with Hal and Falstaff it’s entirely tragic; with Morse and Thursday more bittersweet, as in the end they do part as friends, still clearly loving each other.

But here also is the thing:-

Is Hal saying “I know thee not, old man” just because he has the right in the stupid classist society in which he lives to “thee” an elderly knight in some contempt because he’s the king? Or is he falling back on the habit of using “thee” for him? Or is he expressing an absolute contradiction in terms, deploying the informality of closeness? Of “I don’t know you, friend”.

Morse knows his Shakespeare, and I can’t believe that with his language skills he wouldn’t be aware of what “thee” means. And Morse isn’t Thursday’s boss let alone king, even if they’re no longer inspector and bagman.

So when Morse says “I know thee not, old man”... it’s absolutely that contradiction. Denying and acknowledging understanding and closeness in the same breath. It’s very Morse. It’s very them. Ow.

Oh. Here’s another thought:-

Within the timescale of Shakespeare’s history plays (which are rather more conflated than actual history), Falstaff’s dead within a year, specifically of the broken heart that Hal gives him in the scene I quote above. It’s reported early on in the play Henry V. You know, the one which Falstaff isn’t in, that follows Hal’s later career...

If Morse and Thursday hadn’t made up to the extent that they do... would the same thing have happened to Thursday? Would Morse have accidentally cursed him, really making him his Falstaff? :-/ I mean, if Thursday had been arrested then obviously he would have died soon after one way or another, I think that’s plain for various reasons. But I mean, if Morse had still protected Thursday but they had parted in the heat of the pain and bitterness Morse betrays in that line, without the softening and love that’s apparent in their final scene together? We’re talking about a show that does stray into fantasy at times, after all.

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #fred thursday #endeavour morse & fred thursday #shakespeare #henry iv parts 1 and 2 #henry iv part 1 #henry iv part #hal #falstaff #dix pour cent #grammar #language #much ado about nothing #alex hassell #jamie parker #antony sher #roger allam #shaun evans #darn you russell lewis #singular they predates singular you #singular informal you anyway #i wish to add that one of my least appealing characteristics is how unfairly annoyed i get #when people are doing shakespearean or earlier pastiche and use thee wrongly #it's the equivalent of tu folks #singular and informal singular and informal #don't be thrown by the fact that it's still used in the lord's prayer in some churches today #i believe that using the informal singular for god (at least in christianity) is still pretty standard in multiple languages #but also: the fact that i find it so annoying when people get this wrong really is on me not them ;-)#endeavour spoilers

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astronomodome · 6 days

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Also hey MCC teams coming out thursday/friday….. do you guys think we can get imp and skizz team? I think we can

#I just rembered that they did an interview with scott smajor like a few weeks ago… specifically mentioning him as the MCC guy…………..#anyway I love MCC. mostly just the ones scar is in tho. my streamer 💪💪💪💪💪#skizz pov would also be memorable #mcc #astro speaks

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tomb-of-madeline · 11 months

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an imp entertains a lady with imp magic for imp thursday

#imp thursday

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gatheringfiki · 4 months

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The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, R, Harlequin ‘Verse

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

All Work and No Play

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Fíli stared, deadpan, over the desk at the chief, unwilling to process the orders he’d just been given. Chief Théoden Steelsheen stared back with unwavering stillness, eyes conveying a firmness Fíli wished desperately to sway.

Finally, he decided to try a direct approach, cutting through the stifling silence that had descended within Théoden’s office. “No.”

“It’s not up for negotiation, Durin,” Théoden stated, tone as hard as his expression, “You’ve been hand-picked��”

“Which sounds every shade of strange, doesn’t it?” Fíli tried to argue, but Théoden spoke over him, stressing his words through clenched teeth.

“—by a good friend of the commissioner. They were impressed by your success in the Azog case and requested that you head the transport of a very sensitive artifact.”

Sometimes, Fíli hated that he’d ever been involved in the Azog case at all, even though it had earned him a lot of overdue respect within his department and with higher-ups. While the acknowledgment of his talent as a detective was appreciated, that case had come with more baggage than it was worth.

Fíli slotted a glance to his right, the culprit of his recent misfortune practically vibrating out of his chair with excitement. Kíli grinned from ear to ear, head sweeping back and forth as he looked between Théoden and Fíli.

Fíli scrubbed his hands down his face, letting them fall into his lap before he said, “What’re the parameters?”

Théoden nodded stiffly and launched into the details, “The artifact will be loaded and secured in an unmarked vehicle here.” He said, referring to the precinct car lot, “You’ll come in first thing Thursday—”

“On Christmas Eve?” Fíli interrupted without trying to hide his displeasure.

Théoden leveled him with a Look. “—first thing Thursday,” he continued, stressing each word, “and aim to leave immediately. Bard and Éomer will follow you in Bard’s personal vehicle until you hit the county line.”

Fíli tried to focus on Théoden as he explained the plan from the county line, but Kíli’s leg was bouncing, up down up down up down. Before he knew what he was doing, he smacked a hand down on Kíli’s knee and squeezed, halting the rhythm of Kíli’s leg mid-bounce. He didn’t remove his hand, keeping it braced there as a warning.

One Kíli didn’t seem keen to take seriously.

Théoden droned on, shuffling through files on his desk and plopping one down in front of Fíli for him to take home and memorize.

Kíli started drumming his fingers on the wooden arm of his chair, merrily staring ahead as if he was paying attention to what Théoden was telling him. He wasn’t. The imp couldn’t care less about the procedure they’d have to follow on the job, he was just pleased as punch the chief hadn’t used Fíli to command him to wait in the break room again.

Speaking of which, “If Bard’s on escort duty, who’s riding with me?”

Fíli stubbornly ignored Kíli, beaming as bright as a child at Christmas beside him.

Théoden raised his brows, indicating Fíli should’ve already figured that out. Subtly, he cast his eyes toward—

“Absolutely not.” Fíli pushed his chair back, cutting the air with his arms, “No way!”

Théoden shrugged, helpless and reasonable and so damn infuriating, “Look, Durin, we don’t know the consequences of separating you two yet. So, until we do, this makes the most sense. Do you really think I’d have an escort on you if you weren’t going to be in the company of a civilian?” Théoden frowned, gaze searching Kíli as his head tilted slightly to the side, “Are you a civilian?”

Kíli’s grin somehow brightened further.

“Whatever he is,” Théoden said, turning back to Fíli, “He’s your responsibility. Which makes him our responsibility, until this whole imprinting mess is resolved.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Unless you want me to tell the commissioner you aren’t interested.”

Fíli bit his tongue and clenched his fists. Of course, he didn’t want that; it would be career suicide, and he’d worked his ass off to get where he was. He sloped his gaze toward Kíli, taking Kíli in from under his lashes to be discreet.

He knew Kíli could handle himself. In the two weeks since the tragic incident when Kíli had imprinted and then bonded with Fíli, Kíli had proven himself very adept and resourceful. Although stabbing Lickspittle in the thigh probably shouldn’t have merited Fíli’s admiration as much as it had, Kíli had displayed an aptitude for self-defence Fíli was unaware Harlequins possessed.

From what he’d understood, Harlequins weren’t supposed to do anything unless told to by their Masters. And Fíli sure as shit hadn’t told Kíli to stab Lickspittle with the man’s own letter opener, but that Kíli had.

“You’re sure it’s not too risky?” Fíli asked Théoden, voice laced with varying levels of concern. In part for Kíli’s wellbeing, but mostly because Fíli was way out of his depth when it came to Mastering a Harlequin.

“All you have to do is drive from here to the next city. Once you get there, you just hand the artifact over and that’s it. You leave the vehicle there, take the train home. Simple as pie.”

“You don’t anticipate any trouble?” Fíli had to be sure.

Théoden’s expression softened. “It’s an easy gig, Durin. I wouldn’t put you in a situation I didn’t think you could handle.”

Fíli nodded once and stood. He grabbed the file off Théoden’s desk and thumbed through it quickly.

“Alright.” He agreed. He trusted Théoden’s judgment more than his own most days, why question it now?

-*-

Fíli questioned everything he’d come to know about the chief. Especially his sanity.

“I thought it was supposed to be inconspicuous.” He said, balking at the vehicle that an officer pulled up in front of him where he and Kíli stood in the car lot.

“It’s magnificent.” Kíli squealed, jogging around the front of the cherry-red Volkswagen camper van as soon as it came to a full stop.

“It’s a moving target!”

The officer who’d pulled up in the van stepped out and approached Fíli with a nervous smile. He was young, clearly new—if not to the job, then to the precinct—and had a gentle air about him.

“The artifact is secure, sir,” He told Fíli in a professional manner, posture stiff and unnatural, “Tank is full, and everything’s been looked over twice.”

“Great.” Fíli said, his tone dipping into a flatline when Kíli began honking the horn, “Well,” He tipped his tall, Styrofoam cup of crappy breakroom coffee at the officer, “Best be off, then.”

He walked around to the driver’s side door, opened it, and yanked Kíli out from behind the wheel by the collar. Kíli protested, squirming in Fíli’s grasp until Fíli gave up and hoisted him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

“You either sit here,” He dropped Kíli into the passenger’s seat unceremoniously, “Or you can stay behind.”

“That’s murder, Fíli, I don’t think you’re allowed to do that as an officer of the law.” Kíli countered, pursing his lips. He fixed his position all the same, tucking his legs in and closing the door without much argument.

Fíli rolled his eyes and returned to the driver’s side, slipped into the seat, and carefully maneuvered them out of the car lot after casting a short wave to the officer.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Kíli said, toeing off his shoes and curling up in his seat, leaning into Fíli’s space where he absolutely was not welcome. “A road trip!”

“This isn’t a road trip, Kíli, this is work.” Fíli corrected.

“It’s still further than I’ve been in…” Kíli paused to count on his fingers, “Twenty-seven years.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but Fíli’s heart broke a little at the admission, the understanding of what Kíli was hitting him in the chest. Harlequins only knew what their Masters wanted them to know and, often, that wasn’t much. Used as tools, weapons, objects; they couldn’t go wherever they wanted on a whim, even if it was a leisurely stroll down the block and back.

Fíli cleared his throat, sparing a quick glance at Kíli, “It’s not like we’re making any stops.”

“Of course not.” Kíli agreed, voice suspiciously light.

“Or checking anything out in the city. Straight there and back.”

“Absolutely.”

“Kee, I’m serious,”

Kíli tucked himself against Fíli as best he could over the console between them, “And I respect you implicitly.”

“Good,” Fíli said, jerking his elbow and shrugging his shoulder as if that would be enough to dislodge Kíli from his side. “Would you—”

“No.” And Kíli promptly lay his head on Fíli’s bicep and closed his eyes.

He was asleep in seconds.

-*-

They made several stops on their way to the drop-off point. One for hot cocoa from a charming, little kiosk in the side of the road, stood at the mouth of a dirt road leading to a farmstead.

The next stop was Santa’s Village, and, really, Fíli should’ve put up more of a fight. But how could he when Kíli gave him those big, mossy cow eyes and pouty pink lips? Fíli blamed the settling of their bond entirely for his dismal lack of resilience. It was etching deeper into his soul and making his soft.

Somehow, Fíli was dragged into a snowball fight with a bunch of terrifying under-tens, all screaming war cries and targeting Fíli at Kíli’s behest. His jeans and hair were drenched from melted snow by the time they climbed back into the van.

Or, as the case was, by the time Fíli had run back to the van, dragging Kíli behind him, away from the eerily strategic and overly aggressive children, Kíli howling with laughter the whole way.

The fact that Fíli’s jeans were uncomfortable to sit in, wet as they were, had prompted a rather interesting turn of events when Kíli suggested he remove them altogether. He didn’t, but Kíli did pop the button on Fíli’s waistband, unzip his fly, and curl a warm hand around him through his boxer-briefs.

This led to a very dangerous game of don’t get us killed where Fíli was forced to drive while Kíli twisted himself over the console and took Fíli into his mouth.

How Fíli allowed that to happen, he also blames on the settling bond between them. Like hormones, the newly established bond between Harlequin and Master wreaks havoc on the Master’s brain chemistry. Or so Kíli said as he educated Fíli between long, sloppy licks of his tongue and swallowing Fíli down to the root.

It was illegal.

It was stupid.

It was fucking glorious, Fíli decided when he exploded down Kíli’s throat, hips jerking in shallow, aborted thrusts.

“You’re a menace.” He panted, cheeks flushed and head cottony, but never once faltering at the wheel.

“Accept it, Fee,” Kíli licked his lips, slow and sensual, “You’re starting to like me.”

Fíli stubbornly kept his eyes on the road.

After all their detours, they made it to the drop-off forty minutes after they were scheduled to arrive. Kíli smirked like a cat who got the cream and unapologetically threw Fíli under the bus, citing him as the reason they were late.

Fíli’s eye twitched.

“You know,” Kíli began after they’d been dismissed. He wrapped his arms around one of Fíli’s and tipped his head so his lips brushed the shell of Fíli’s ear in tickling strokes. “All work and no play,” He nipped Fíli’s lobe, “will make you a dull boy.” Kissed along the column of Fíli’s throat down to his pulse point where he then dragged his teeth and licked his way back up.

Fíli glared ahead, removed his arm from Kíli’s hold, and banded it around Kíli’s waist, corralling Kíli into the nearest dark alleyway to put that wily mouth to better use.

Harlequins really were the worst.

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2023 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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impishtubist · 1 year

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tall Sirius hot takes!!

I don't really think liking tall Sirius is a hot take when plenty of other people agree! (Even though we are sadly outnumbered by the short Sirius crowd.)

But the anon in my inbox has spoken, so we will kick off Hot Take Hour with some tall Sirius thoughts anyway! And also because I said so.

-The man is a tank. I mean, thighs-like-tree-trunks tank. Barrel-chested tank. The man was a Beater for a reason.

-I add an inch to his height every time someone annoys me so he's 6' 5" now but I'll accept him as short as 6' if I must. Nothing shorter than that, though.

-Remus sometimes touches 5' 10". On a good day. By which I mean he nicked some of Sirius's chunky boots and he's really 5' 7" when he's not cheating.

-This has nothing to do with Sirius's height but he's really hairy too. The absolute hairiest. He shaves and by noon he has a full beard again. Hairy chest, hairy arms, hairy belly, hairy legs, let the man be hairy!!

-Sirius could snap Remus in half. Then again, a stiff breeze could snap Remus in half.

-Also Remus isn't attractive. At all. Calling him Some Guy (TM) is pretty generous, really. He's just not much to look at, you know? But Sirius is dumb when he's in love and he thinks Remus is the hottest thing ever. James and Regulus legit thought Sirius was dating some model, the way he went on about Remus, and then they met the guy and were like "um, him?"

-We've definitely lost the plot of this ask but the spirit is there, I think.

-Oh and to reiterate one of my Hot Takes from last night, Sirius is only with Remus 'cause James isn't available.

-ANYWAY TALL SIRIUS SUPREMACY YES

#imp speaks #hot take hour #chaos thursday #chaos friday #hot take night #sirius black

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ensnapemysenses · 2 years

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HELLO can u do schoolboy sev and reader fluff where like he tutors her bc she sucks at school 😃 and then eventually he falls for her and then has a hard time coming to terms with his feelings and eventually gets cold and distant and then reader confronts him and then he confesses and then ACCKKKkk 😩😩 i used she her pronouns for the request but u can do anything eheheh

Learning from Severus

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,289

Masterlist

“I’m sorry, you lost me. Can you please go over kappas again? Aren’t those the red-haired imps?” you question, your quill hesitating on your parchment as you try to jot down some notes as Severus goes through the defense against the dark arts lesson from today. He’s been tutoring you in all your subjects since the beginning of the year. You had noticed he always got good marks in all his classes, and he had noticed your not-so-great marks as well and had offered to tutor you. You had gladly accepted and your grades were improving with his help.

“A kappa is a Japanese water demon, you dummy,” Severus chuckles. “They aren’t red-haired! They have a water-filled hollow on their head! You defeat a kappa by making them bow, which causes the water to spill out!”

“Oh! Right! I remember now! Thanks, Sev!” you reply, scratching down his remarks on your notes from class. You two spend another hour in the library going through all the questions you have from your lessons today before saying your goodbyes and heading to supper, promising to meet back in the same spot tomorrow as usual.

The next day, you arrive back at the table in the library that you and Severus usually occupy as he tutors you, except he’s not there. You find it very odd he’s late since he is always early to everything. Ten minutes go by, and he finally shows up. You smile widely at him and pull your books and notes out of your bag.

“Everything okay? You are a little later than usual,” you say, nudging him a bit.

“It’s nothing, (Y/N),” he says, pulling away from your touch. “I just don’t think I can tutor you anymore.”

“Why?” you question, drawing back from him out of confusion. You can’t understand how he can, all of a sudden, decide you aren’t worth his time anymore. You had thought the two of you were becoming friendly, and perhaps you silently wished to be more than just the student he tutors on the side.

“I’ve just been very busy lately,” he mumbles, not looking you in the eye and fidgeting with his hands.

“I understand. We could meet twice a week instead of every day if that’s better. I am really thankful for all the help you’ve given me this year by tutoring me and I really enjoy spending time with you.”

Upon hearing that you enjoy spending time with him Severus blushes and he has to turn his head away so that you can’t see it. Burying his face in a textbook he allows his hair to fall into his face further concealing the red on his cheeks from your view. Surely your words mean that you like spending time with him because he is able to help you get better grades and nothing more. The thought depresses him and he wishes he could tell you how he feels but he’s scared you will look at him differently if he confesses his feelings; as if somehow his confession will make him utterly repulsive to you and you will want absolutely nothing to do with him.

“I suppose that could work,” he mumbles into the pages of his textbook, thinking that if he doesn’t see you as often, maybe his longing to be with you will dissipate. “How about we meet every Tuesday and Thursday from now on?”

“Sounds great, Sev! Just let me know if we need to switch days around again!” you say cheerfully, happy that he has agreed to still spend some of his time with you.

This new arrangement worked for about a month until Severus says your tutoring sessions need to go to once a week. You oblige as you figure he is just busy studying since he is taking a few more classes than you. You had decided not to take on any extra classes this year and your head of house had agreed that decision was in your best interest; so you stuck to the core classes and didn’t add anything extra.

On the last day before the Christmas holiday break, you arrive at your usual tutoring spot in the library to a note left on the table. Puzzled, you pick it up when you see that your name is written on the envelope. Opening it, you read the note written inside:

(Y/N),

I am very sorry for missing our scheduled tutoring appointment today. I have been predisposed elsewhere and had just enough time to leave this note. Since I believe you now have what it takes to pass your classes without my help, we will no longer be meeting for lessons. I apologize to have to inform you in such a manner.

Good luck,

Severus

Hurt and confused by his actions, you decide to catch him after dinner tonight and demand an explanation for his very inappropriate treatment of the situation. He could have at least told you he didn’t want to tutor you anymore in person instead of by a note.

Sneaking around after dinner, you linger by the doors of the Great Hall, keeping an eye and an ear out for Severus. As soon as you see him, you duck behind the doors. You know that if he sees you before you grab him, he will run away and your chance at an explanation will have to wait until you return from holiday. Seizing your chance, as Severus walks by the doors you grab his arm and pull him with you down the hallway where you stop to drag him behind a statue. There, you hold him down by his shoulders as he tries to squirm his way out of your grasp.

“What the hell is this about? You couldn’t just tell me you didn’t want to tutor me anymore!” you sneer, pulling the note out of your pocket and waving it in his face.

“I –” he starts but you interrupt him.

“I don’t want to hear any lame excuses! You better be completely honest with me!”

Severus swallows hard, the combination of being held down by you and the embarrassment of his actions making his face bright red as he tries to come up with an answer for you. All his thoughts keep circling back to the true explanation of why he has been so distant.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. I thought it would be better that I stop tutoring you because…” his voice trails off and he has to force himself to say the next words. “I – I like you.”

His sudden confession causes you to drop your guard and release the hold you have on him. Severus slumps over and does his best to try and hide from you. The best he can do is turn his head and avert his eyes from you.

“Look at me,” you say softly, gently grabbing his chin and turning his head back to you when he doesn’t move. Now, his amber eyes are staring into yours and they widen in surprise at your next words. “I like you too, Sev.”

“Really?” Severus asks. He truly cannot believe your words, surely he is dreaming or he misheard you.

“Yes. I like you a lot,” you giggle. “Though it does kind of suck now we’ve both confessed our feelings and we have to leave for break tomorrow.”

Severus smiles slightly and he grabs your hand in his, leading you out from behind the statue. “There will be plenty of time for me to show you off when we return and I guess I can tutor you in more than just your school subjects now. I'm sure there's a lot you can learn from me," he says with a wink.

#severus snape #snape #snape fic #snape fluff #snape x reader #student snape x student reader #pro snape #snapedom #snape fandom #ensnapemysenses

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