#sorry tolkein

[sue-nightbird-xx]

on his knees begging for forgiveness

[vypersketches]

i think he should have had antlers

[elainiisms]

[thoughts-of-caly]

ok not to give what should be an ice cold take but i’m pretty sure the script actually says “none of woman born shall harm macbeth” not “no man.” so actually macbeth (the character) is just sexist and assumed a woman would never attempt to kill him. not that it would have mattered because if she was born of woman she’s screwed too

[lucigoo]

Mahal, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

NEW DIS CENTRIC FIC

Canon compliant, I'm sorry Dis 😭 (mind the tags)

Mahal, Why Have you Forsaken Me?

As always a snippet:

Her world was darker than the bottom of a chasm because their lights had been snuffed out. They had been taken from here and here she stood in an empty bedroom filled with nothing but memories. Memories that she was the only one left to remember. No one else would remember watching the first time Fili tried to sing the lullaby that Dis’ own amad had passed down to her as she cradled the baby as carefully as he could in his little arms. No one else would know of the time Kili had learnt to whittle (terribly) so he could gift his first creation to Fili. No one else would know of the song, the laughter, the love that had filled this now lifeless home. No one else but her.

[lorepossum]

Look I’ve heard a lot of talk about people being annoyed at the changes between WoT book and show and I get that.

But also at least I like most of these people 10x more post Ep 1 of the show than I do after listening to 10 hours of the Eye of the World. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[something-pithy]

Notes and an Update: What's in a Name?

Chapter 16 of an echo, a stain features Astarion doing what he does best -- feeling terror, spiraling and at the very least contemplating terrible choices as a result. lol.

SPOILERS FOR ACT 2 OF BG3 BELOW

Those of you who are mostly caught up on an echo, a stain know I love me a flashback (and now the rest of y'all know, too lol). There are two in this new chapter, one of which is set in the Shadow-Cursed lands after Astarion has confessed his initial intentions toward and current feelings/desires for Tav to Tav (post-Orthon confession). As a result of that conversation, they've put a pin in the sexual aspects of their relationship, but are still together romantically. Then, the Araj Moment happens (spoiler alert: nobody bit that heifer), Thaniel is reunited with Oliver, Halsin's... admiration of Tav is becoming more apparent, and Astarion is... yes! Spiraling!

I think that flashback speaks for itself, and I'll let y'all get what you will from when / where in the story it appears.

The OTHER flashback, which is much more brief, is about this Tav's name. Now, I'm not trying to make any secret of the fact that the Tav in this story and I have a lot in common in terms of ethnic backgrounds when you remove the high fantasy fake world element from Tav's lol. FIRST I want to say, I don't give a fuck. There is no shame in my game. Nobody comes for George R.R. Martin or Robert Jordan or J.R.R. (the Rs are for REALLY RACIST) Tolkein (don't @ me -- or do, go ahead and send me an ask if you really want to know my feels on that one looool) for writing about characters whose ethnic and cultural backgrounds are Western European / British.

Second of all, maybe I'm being unnecessarily defensive because I'm an old head who came up in a time when writing a self-insert character was like THE VERY WORST POSSIBLE THING YOU COULD DO AS A WRITER, but once again I don't give a fuck.

The lived experiences of ethnic minorities, people of mixed ethnic and cultural heritage (not fucking half-elves who most of the time are just people of the Caucasian persuasion with pointy ears and shorter lifespans than regular elves), first generation children of immigrants, and all manner of permutations of non-white, non-Western "others" are in extremely short supply in all forms of media / popular narratives in the Western world (shit honestly, it ain't just the West but that's another struggle for another day). This is especially true, from what I've experienced as a lifelong nerdalerd, in speculative fiction.

So yeah, I conceived my Tav as a mixed-race (kind of, she's all high elf, but mixed sun, moon, and sea because she's a motherfucking unicorn, come at me bro looool -- no, there are other reasons too but also she's a unicorn lol), mixed-ethnic-and-cultural-heritage person whose life choices are NOT aligned with a lot of the conventions and values of the cultures in which she was raised.

Because that story and perspective is wildly underrepresented in literature, mass media, speculative fiction, and fan fiction.

So here we are. loooool

Having said all that, I got a comment from my fucking delightful beta and queen of my soul, Komo, asking about the naming conventions I reference in this chapter (or their real-world analogues).

So for the notes part of this episode of "Notes and an Update," I'm going to quote part of the comment she left on AO3 about the story and my response, which adheres to my policy of "why say it in five words if you can say it in EIGHT MILLION." Let me know what you think!

NAMING CONVENTIONS IN AEAS

(FROM THE COMMENTS SECTION OF AN ECHO, A STAIN CHAPTER 16:)

Komo wrote:

I have so many questions about naming conventions, both from the corner of the world that Tav’s family hails from and BG proper. Like, in American and Japanese culture, women take their husband’s last names when heterosexual couples get married. In the States, there are exceptions to this rule, of course, with some women hyphenating. In China, women do not change their last names, but kids are almost always named after the father’s side (the old one child policy may have affected this, but the top 100 most common surnames make up 85% of the population anyways). If Tav and Astarion do end up together, would names be a thing they’d have to navigate? Astarion is such a possessive little yandere after all.

I wrote:

OK so this Tav's ethnic and cultural background, as we know, is mixed

(I'm not even getting into her racial background I just can't with fucking elvish loool and her families on both sides are far-enough removed from immersion in elven culture where I'm like LOOOOOOOOOOOOOL SEE YOU LATER TOLKEIN).

On her father's side, she's Zakharan / DnD-analogue MENA (Middle Eastern North African, with apologies to Said for the orientalism of the term Middle Eastern).

On her mother's side, Amnian / New Amnian / DnD-analogue Latina but -- oh lordt OK without getting into the complexities of codified colonial Spanish racism and colorism, that identity is complicated. Through a combination of executive decision-making about elves and race and how they interact with culture on the material plane (aka not in the Feywild) AND really leaning into the idea of cultural analogues in Toril / the Forgotten Realms, her Latina-analogue ethnicity comprises a mix of indigenous and colonizer racial/ethnic heritage.

(I also can't with how fucking convoluted figuring this out was, is, has been, will forever be looool.)

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, for the sake of brevity (looooooooooooooooool), we'll say Tav's full name results from the combination of her parents' names using Amnian/New Amnian (Spanish) naming conventions, BUT that means her full name (which is not even as long as it could be but is LONG) incorporates both Arabic naming conventions AND Spanish naming conventions that result in impressively / annoyingly long names loool.

In modern Spain, at least, when women marry, some don't even take their husband's name. But the kids' names are composites of parents' family names.

A Spanish child takes the surnames of both their father and mother. The structure is usually [father's surname] y [mother's surname] (though in modern Spain and Spanish-speaking countries a lot of people no longer use the "y"), but the main surname would be the father's surname. So for example, someone's full last name might be Juana Garcia y Martinez or Juana Garcia Martinez, but she might just go by Juana Garcia.

ALSO, especially for children of families of some kind of note / nobility when the dad's family was not as well-known as the mother's, this would include the composite names of both parents.

So Juana's name might be Juana [Garcia de Manzanilla (dad's composite surname)] y [Martinez de Hierro (mom's composite surname)].

So Juana Garcia de Manzanilla y Martinez de Hierro. And like, when people get real into it this can go back generations. Like, I don't even remember my mom's whole-ass name. looool.

NOW, Arabic names are composites, too, but incorporate the father's first name, the grandfather's first name, then the family name -- back in the day, they'd link these things with words that indicated the relationships. So for example, if Yemina's dad is Yusuf and HIS dad is Muhammad and their family name is Rashid, Yemina's name would then be Yemina bint/bin (daughter of) Yusuf ibn (son of) Muhammad al-(of the family) Rashid.

So Yemina bin Yusuf ibn Muhammad al-Rashid.

OK SO THERE'S ANOTHER COMPLICATION (aren't you glad you asked this question loooooooooooooooooooool): with regard to Spanish naming conventions, apparently this patrilineal thing hasn't always been the case and only came to be the norm around the mid-1700s. Before that, surname transmission was often matrilineal.

(This comes into play here because the year in BG3 is like, idk, 1492-98 or something? I forget whatever who cares it's before the mid-1700s and I'm just making it vaguely and very much not perfectly analogous with the time / calendar of the Western world because I don't have the bandwidth for anything else loooooooooool).

In this Tav's case, her mom ditched her dad and the kids were young enough at the time that she was able to, as a sign of DEEP FUCKING DISRESPECT TO HIM loooool, change their names to MATRILINEAL AMNIAN-STYLE COMPOSITE SURNAMES LOOOOOOOOOOOOL

(So for a while Tav's government name was Zeneida Nqa Tavares de la Torre de López Jimenez y bin Harun ibn Ishaq al-Jazairi loooool)

I mean this was like looooooooooooooool FUCKING PROFOUNDLY SCANDALOUSLY DISRESPECTFUL FOR HER TO DO TO A ZAKHARAN MAN especially one of SOME NOTE WHO WAS SELF-MADE

That shit was mad personal and a level of petty that mere mortals can only aspire to it was so deep

But TAV'S MOM DOES NOT PLAY

(Now, could she have just cut Tav's father's name out entirely? Sure, but 1) THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS NOT GETTING OUT OF CLAIMING THESE KIDS / PAYING CHILD SUPPORT esp if he ever got married again HER KIDS ARE THE FUCKING HEIRS AND HE AIN'T GON FORGET IT and 2) (possibly more importantly) FUCK HIS COUCH, PEOPLE ARE GONNA KNOW HE FUCKED AROUND AND FOUND OUT)

Even though he's deadass like "lol wtfever I don't give a fuck, I know what their real legal names are" and also this resulted in a protracted, multinational legal battle that was never actually resolved until each kid reached the age of majority and decided what their own legal name would be.

Ahem, anyway as a consequence of all this, Tav's full-ass, whole-ass, government name is:

Zeneida (first given name)

Nqa (middle given name)

bin Harun ibn Ishaq al-Jazairi (full Arabic/"Midani" patrilineal surname)

y (conjunction [means 'and'])

Tavares de la Torre de López Jimenez (mother's full surname)

So: Zeneida Nqa bin Harun ibn Ishaq al-Jazairi y Tavares de la Torre de López Jimenez

But as we know, she just goes by Zeneida Tavares, and she wasn't lying when she said on most docs it's just "Zeneida Nqa Jazairi Tavares."

Second...

tl;dr: Tavvy for short. Ms. Tavares if you nasty.

ALSO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

If Tav and Astarion do end up together, Astarion better adjust them expectations, bc after all the drama that's existed around her name, he gonna have a hard time getting her to change it looool

Not to mention, she has a career based in part on people knowing who she is so... loooool

SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO IF THE STARS AND PLANETS EVER ALIGN FOR THEM / THEY EVER GET THEIR HEADS OUT OF ASSES

[bauliya]

u ever see a post and feel it bones it's in response to your own post

[local-redhead-bookworm]

The things I wind up researching to write a HOTD one-shot

[22degreehalo]

I wish so fucking much I had just enjoyed LOTR when I read it. I've tried so so so many times to get into the fandom and I just can't.

me when I got the Harry Potter autism instead of the LOTR autism ig.

[sue-nightbird-xx]

Lindír, my baby boy

[not-so-legendary-legendarium]

You need the sequel... :3

I have him on my desk. Every time I'm angry i shake him (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

If you know the reference I'm sorry

[olailamajnoon]

Dick: I have a poor memory. My GPA must have dropped a whole point because of my poor head for facts.

Bruce: what the heck are you talking about.

Dick, mournfully: oh you don't know? That's fine. It's fine. That you don't remember the third worst thing that happened in my life.

Bruce: I'm confused. What on God's green earth are you rambling about?

Dick: you don't remember?

Bruce: oh for Christ's sake. Your memory's fine. Better than fine, I'd say.

Dick: Then why, WHY on earth did I, in my English SATs, write that J.R.R. Tolkein wrote a Lord of the Rings prequel book following the story of Frodo's uncle, a hobbit named Bimbo Baggins?

Bruce: *trying to contain his mirth* ...

Bruce: Anyone could have made that mistake.

Dick: *looking mournful* But I'm not just anyone. I'm your — I'm the OG Robin! That sentence was my life's second biggest failure.

Bruce, trying and failing to control his features: I'm sorry, buddy. But on the plus side, that overworked examiner probably never laughed harder at a paper in his life.

Dick: BIMBO Baggins, Bruce!

Bruce, putting his arms around Dick and hugging him: one day I'll tell you, possibly on my death bed, a story that's a hundred times more embarrassing. But I don't want to tell you now. You'll see me through a different lens.

Dick: how bad is it

Bruce: pretty bad. But right now you need to remember that it's perfectly natural to make a mess of your SATs when you had a head injury the night before, saving a baby from her kidnapper.

Dick, looking up in tears: You remember

Bruce: there are things that I can never, ever forget about my first son. Like the fact that he gave his final exams while having a concussion, without a word of complaint.

Dick: you know what, Bruce?

Bruce: what?

Dick, breaking down and crying: I know I don't say it often, but I love youuu

[elevensiesexpert]

Im sorry im sorry who was gonna tell me that BILBO WAS GONNA BE PART OF LOTR. I had to just find this out on my own???

In an early draft of LotR, Tolkien actually had a mysterious hobbit named Trotter join the party, who always wears wooden clogs, and turns out to Bilbo in disguise. (How would no one have noticed it was Bilbo tho lol) Tolkein scrapped the idea and replaced Trotter with Strider.

CAN YOU IMAGINE LOTR BUT THERES NO ARAGORN BUT BILBOS THERE WITH SHOES??

[ladydeath-vanserra]

seeing people compare SJM with Tolkein or GRRM is actually so so funny to me. She is Leagues behind both of them sorry

[starkspondwater]

Not So Bad- Stan Marsh x Reader

Summary-Next up for 7 minutes in heaven is Stan Marsh! You always thought he was just some asshole (or did you) but one little game will change that real quick! (light SMUT)

Others in the series: Butters x

A/n: I do not know how to write for Stan but I tried my best! I also was not sure how to end it. Like at all. I wasn't going to write it tonight either but with everything going on in my country I needed something to keep the anxiety away!

You weren’t sure how Wendy roped you into going to a party, and you sure as hell didn’t know how she pulled you into this dumb ass party game. You didn’t talk much through highschool, running around in different friend groups so you were surprised by the sudden friendship when you both saw each other in your women’s studies course that semester. She was truthfully the only other person in the class that put in effort and through group projects and study sessions you got closer, which she definitely used to her advantage.

You had become a regular at Tolkein’s house as hanging out with his girlfriend gave you that perk, but those were normally kickbacks with a smaller group of people. Tonight, unfortunately, you were faced with a mansion full of people you had only seen in passing. Thank god the man supplied good alcohol.

Sitting in the circle with others, Wendy having cuddled up to her man, you watched as people flitted in and out of the room. From what you had heard from others there appeared to be games being played in random rooms throughout the house, including a game of strip-go-fish (how that was played you weren’t quite sure but the image gave you a laugh). You felt only slightly uncomfortable with your short shorts riding up a little too much and your top a little too clingy as the room grew warm with bodies. You mentally thanked the fireball circulating your system as it kept you from complaining, something Wendy had specifically asked you not to do tonight.

Across the circle, lazily sipping on a half drunk bottle of beer was Stan Marsh, football star, guitar player, and asshole. Well, that was a bit harsh. You hadn’t actually spoken to the boy since elementary school, boys and girls splitting off into their respective groups often, and as you grew to be teenagers you both ended up on entirely different ends of the social ladder. To you he just seemed very full of himself, laughing loudly, palling around too much, and in general just always being there.

Since he and Wendy officially broke things off in 7th grade he had led a string of girlfriends, each popular and pretty. Stereotypical highschool. You didn’t have any beef with the girls, to be clear, your issue was that it all just felt cliche, and living in a small town intensified that feeling. To make matters worse, however, was that you had caught yourself looking at him more and more over the years. In class you would find yourself tracing the lines of his broad shoulders with your eyes, noticing the stubble he had some mornings when he ran in late, and many other things. It was embarrassing, so to stay safe you just kept thinking of him as some jock asshole. 

Someone barked out laughter, breaking your train of thought and bringing you back to the present. Stan had now leaned forward, a boyish grin on his face as he looked around the circle and spun the bottle. For a second his eyes flicked to you, nearly causing you to choke on the badly mixed drink in your hand. Coughing a bit, you watched as the slender neck of the bottle spun and stopped, pointing  at none other than you.

The girls around you giggled, pushing you up to your feet and towards the closet. You could hear Wendy laughing behind you and if you still had your senses you would’ve yelled something at her, but before you could do so Stan was shoved in behind you. At the movement you nearly fell, only saved by his hands coming up to grab your waist.

“Sorry, dude,” he chuckled, only moving his hands away after a moment.

“It’s alright,” your willed your voice to not shake. Crossing your arms you attempted to make yourself a little smaller, giving you an ounce more room away from the boy next to you. You felt weird and you were sure he could hear the thumping in your chest.

“So, uh, are you like, okay with this?” Stan motioned between the two of you a little nervously.

“Being shoved in a closet?” You mentally cringed. Being a smartass was not going to help you in this situation, but it was all you could muster.

“No, like, kissing and stuff,” he said as if he really believed you didn’t know how this worked. He mistook your dumbfounded look for confusion and continued. “It’s kind of part of the game, y’know?”

“I know what 7 minutes in heaven is, Stan.”  You tried to keep the smart assery out of your voice as you answered him. “I just didn’t think you’d want to. You don’t even know me, dude.”

“Of course I do, Y/N, we’ve been in school together for like, ever. Wait- is this because of what Kenny said?” What?

“...What did Kenny say to me?” You tried to think back to all of your interactions over the years. You honestly didn’t have too much to do with the blond, though occasionally when in the same room you did joke with each other. You could not recall anything he said having to do with Stan.

“Oh that son of a bitch! He lied to get to me- goddammit!” Despite his words you heard no actual malice in his tone. All you were wondering is what Kenny would have told you. It had to have been about you if he was that concerned, right? Thankfully, you did not have to wonder for very long, as Stan broke with your prolonged silence.

“I had mentioned to the guys a few times that I thought you were, like, attractive, y’know? And…” he bit his lip as he hesitated. “I thought the skirt you wore the other week was kind of hot. He kind of kept teasing me about not having the balls to say anything to you.”

You remembered exactly what he was talking about. Your sister had decided on an impromptu makeover one morning, and like the she-devil she was, had shoved you into one of her many short skirts. You had spent the whole day worrying about flashing your ass to the poor student body. Wait- what was that first thing he said?

“Oh,” was all you could get out of your mouth, feeling your cheeks heat up at his admission.

“So…” One hand reached back for your waist and you felt him lightly squeeze, making you jump. “Did you want to…?”

“Um, yeah! Sure.” Jeez, you don’t need to sound too eager. You were still a little weirded out by this whole thing. You were not like the girls Stan usually dated, and you knew nothing would come of this anyway. Then, a little voice in your head spoke up. Fuck it. It’s a party.

With a firm but gentle touch, Stan grabbed you and brought his lips down to your own. Lips melded together in a dance as his tongue lashed forward seeking entrance. You had kissed your fair share of people, though it always felt clumsy and inexperienced. This kiss made you feel like you had drunk far more than you actually had. 

Warmth coursed through your veins, partially from your drinking but mostly from him. His large, rough hands roamed, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Tentatively, you let your hands explore, feeling the wide expanse of his chest through his t-shirt and up to those shoulders you could finally admit distracted you. Eventually, your hands moved up to his dark hair, knocking off the blue beanie on his head.

The second you touched a single strand on his head, he moaned into your mouth. Good to know he likes that you thought. Experimentally, you continued combing your hands along his scalp. A surprised yelp escaped you as Stan gripped your ass, a growl ripping from his throat. Briefly separating from your face he looked at you with hooded eyes. 

“Keep doing that and you’ll end up in trouble.” Your thighs snapped together as the words wound their way around your head. Based on the smirk the boy in front you had, he knew exactly what he was doing.

This was much more than you had bargained for. You figured you’d get at least a drunk makeout sesh in from some guy you wouldn’t care to recall the next day- instead you had Stan Marsh looking at you like that and from the clarity of his words you knew he was not drunk.

Some of the liquid courage you had previously poured down your throat sprang forth and you dared to grip his hair, lightly tugging. Immediately you were pressed to the wall as lips hungrily took to your own. Calloused fingers found their way under your shirt with feather light touches against your skin. You felt your shirt ride up as he continued towards your chest.

You were pleasantly surprised that despite how he was kissing you, Stan seemed hesitant. It was as if he was silently asking for permission to keep going, and to you that made him much more attractive. Puffing out your chest a bit into him was permission enough as his hands found their target. You could feel him squeeze a bit, humming at the feeling. He was gentle but commanding, and the combination had your head spinning.

You felt possessed. It wasn’t enough and you wanted closer, you wanted more, and Stan seemed to have the same line of thought as you. Only breaking from you for a split second, he brought your shirt up and over your head before expertly bringing a hand around and unclasping your bra. You fought the urge to cover your chest as he leaned back to gaze at you. Even in the horrible closet lighting you could make out his dilated pupils as he took in the sight in front of him..

With a glance to your face, he brought his head down and clamped his mouth to one of your nipples, his hands gripping your waist to keep you in place. As his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, you gave yourself over to the experience. Allowing your hands to rest on his head and shoulders, your head lolled back.

You could feel your panties growing moist by the second, small whimpers released from your lips mixing in with the sounds he was currently making at your chest. As he rose back up, now paying attention to your exposed neck, your hands instinctively fell downward onto the waistband of his jeans.

Almost immediately you pulled back, growing stiff. Stan, sensing a change, pulled back as well and observed your nervous state. After a moment, a grin broke out onto his handsome features. 

“You alright?” His voice was lightly teasing, but didn’t give off the vibe that he was making fun. You weren’t sure what to say, or maybe you did, but this all felt a little too bold for you. I mean you weren’t even his type for christ’s sake, even if he did admit to finding you attractive. 

Stan, despite common misconceptions, was not dumb. He’d known you for a long time and even though the two of you didn’t really talk for whatever reason he could still clearly read your body language and the little facial expressions you had. He came to the conclusion that he’d have to spell it out for you.

“You do know I like you, right?” you sputtered a bit, causing him to chuckle. “That’s why I was worried about Kenny talking to you. He kept saying if I didn’t have the balls to say anything he might as well as ask you out himself, and I didn’t want that.” 

Almost as if to prove it to you, he took one of your hands and placed it on the zipper of his pants. You could clearly feel how into this, and you, he actually was. His breath grew heavy as you rubbed along the length of him. He was girthy, that much you could tell. Your fingers skimmed his zipper when the door to the closet flew open.

The once muffled sound of the party slammed into the room with you. Stan quickly turned the two of you, shielding your exposed form from those that might be looking in and covering you in shadow. Haphazardly you threw on your bra and shirt, feeling the strap twist uncomfortably as your fingers numbly hooked things together. Your breathing was ragged and you attempted to slow it and create some semblance of calm. Stan, thankfully, stood there patiently and quietly, ignoring the jeers from outside.

Once done you very much intended to do your walk of shame directly out of the party. At least at home you could spiral with the remains of your dignity in peace. As you began to speed walk out you felt a large, warm hand slip into your own. Looking up you saw Stan with a small smile on his face, not even stopping to say anything as the two of you moved toward the exit. 

“What are you doing?” you asked after a beat of silence. The fresh mountain air outside was an immediate relief to the embarrassment you had felt inside the home. Fellow classmates that had already been sitting outside peered at you curiously, causing you to turn away.

“Well, I figured after the whole thing with them opening the door you might not want to continue, but maybe we could grab some slushes and talk for a bit?” He tugged his previously discarded beanie down over his ears. “I could also just drive you home. I just didn’t want to end this so quickly.”

Pleasure unfurled in your belly as you took in his words. Stan really did like you, like he said. You could try to tell yourself all you wanted that he was some asshole but you knew that wasn’t true at all. He was considerate and fun, and maybe you could build something on that. You pretended to ponder for a moment before answering him.

“I suppose a slushie couldn’t hurt. Just no funny business!” you teased as you followed him down the road, stepping in time with him.

“No promises!” he grinned, lightly knocking a hand into yours and intertwining it with his own.

Yeah, he wasn’t so bad after all, you decided.