#the participles are so interesting too

[divorcetual]

Jamaican patois my beloved U are suxh a helpful referwnce

[ikuzeminna]

What does a goose have to do with any of it...?

We're all wondering what the heck Tallgeese is supposed to be derived from, so I decided to do some research and the result is either ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ or a Simone Biles level routine of mental gymnastics, which, notably, is not allowed to stick the landing.

But I finally figured out what Epyon is supposed to mean (which is an utter embarrassment that it took me so long, I'm so sorry @tinyozlion), so hooray for small victories, at least.

So first things first, let's get Epyon's etymology out of the way. The mobile suit name Epyon, phonetically /ˈe.pion/, is likely derived from the Ancient Greek word επιόν, phonetically /e.piˈon/, which means "the next one/the future one." Awfully fitting considering the characters treat Epyon and its system as though it can tell the future. I also find it hilarious how the Greek wiki page features a translation, whereas the English version just assumes everyone is fluent in Attic.

As if.

Bonus information for linguists:

Here's the excuse I have for not finding out sooner Epyon is apparently taken from επιόν. Επιόν is the present active participle, neuter nominative/accusative/vocative singular, of the verb ἔπειμι (épeimi), according to Attic inflectional endings, with the verb having various meanings, among them "to exist in the future/to approach/to attack" etc.

This means that επιόν is not a word you can directly look up in a dictionary, like the one I have lying around. You need to know it's derived from ἔπειμι and then know your Attic declension to reach this form. All I wanna know right now is who the Ancient Greek buff at Sunrise was who's to credit for this. Because this was in the era before anyone even thought of uploading translations of Ancient Greek words onto the worldwide web. And how you end up with one suit having a name you need to have studied a dead language for and another named after statuesque waterfowl.

Ikeda, I have questions.

On an additional note, επιών, the masculine singular, sounds the same phonetically, but since Epyon is a mobile suit and thus an object, it makes more sense to go with the neuter. Unlike with humans and animals, things don't usually have a gender in Greek unless it's a loanword.

Okay, so now that Epyon is figured out, let's look at Tallgeese. This one is a wild ride.

For the sake of argument, we'll step away from the goose thing for a second. Tallgeese in Japanese is spelled トールギス (Tōrugisu), which, taking Japanese's limits into account and the translated Amazon.co.jp listings of the mobile suit's various gunpla kits, means we could write Tallgeese as anything ranging from "Tallgis" to "Torgis." I've seen all kinds of spellings for it. (The obscure ones sometimes let you find a kit at a very reasonable price.)

So let's look at what theme OZ suits adhere to. Here's a list of all of them:

OZ-00MS Tallgeese

OZ-02MD Virgo

OZ-06MS Leo

OZ-07AMS Aries

OZ-07MS Tragos (Greek for Capricorn)

OZ-08MMS Cancer

OZ-09MMS Pisces

OZ-12SMS Taurus

OZ-13MS Epyon

OZ-13MSX1 Vayeate

OZ-13MSX2 Mercurius

Bonus: battleship Libra

The grunt suits are all in the 01-12 range, which corresponds to the Zodiac constellations being 12, even if they don't care about the correct order. Tallgeese, Epyon, Vayeate and Mercurius are the only ones outside this Zodiac range, so time to look at what other constellations there are.

Turns out there are 88 of them by now. 48 originally if we go with Ptolemy's version.

Let's look at the suit to find some hints as to what we're looking for.

The red front-to-back plume evokes Roman or Spartan military. The round shield is definitely closer to trademark Spartan than Roman, so coupled with the death wish you need to pilot it, I'd say Spartan is a reasonable pick.

I mean, if it fits, it fits.

The other interesting detail about Tallgeese is the yellow bird emblem on the shield, which it doesn't have in the series because it probably would have been too much of a pain to animate. The gunpla feature it though.

Here's the Tallgeese, and the Tallgeese Flügel version.

The emblem on the shield is tinier, but it's there, and it's added to the giant wings as well. The reasonable assumption is that that's an eagle, which happens to exist as a constellation. Aquila, or rather Aëtos, and more specifically the Aetos Dios, "was a giant, golden eagle which served as Zeus' personal messenger and animal companion."

Tallgeese would be equated to Zeus then, since the suit obviously isn't the golden eagle itself, being all white. If we view Tallgeese as the father of all mobile suits and consider that Zeus fathered... honestly, everyone and his dog in Greek mythology <_<, it fits.

So, do we have a constellation that is something big, white, preferably with wings, that's connected to Zeus? Yup, there is the swan, Cygnus, or Kyknos if you prefer Greek, which has a very interesting story of how it ended up in the night sky.

Turns out it's another one of Zeus' romantic adventures where he transformed into a swan to seduce Leda, the queen of Sparta.

"Leda was a queen of Sparta, the wife of King Tyndareus, who was seduced by Zeus in the guise of the swan. There were several versions of the parentage of her children:- Some say she laid an egg from which were hatched the Dioskouroi (Dioscuri) twins, Kastor and Polydeukes, both sons of Zeus. Others say she laid two eggs each containing a child of Zeus and a child of Tyndareus--Polydeukes and Kastor in one, and Helene and Klytaimnestra (Clytemnestra) in the other. Yet others relate that the second egg, containing just Helene, was delivered to Leda by the goddess Nemesis who had lain it after coupling with Zeus in the guise of a goose."

....We have arrived at the goose.

Fun fact: geese, swans and ducks are grouped into one family (anatidae). This is an important tidbit as things will become very dumb from this point onward.

Because I may have gotten Spartan, golden eagle, giant white bird and predecessor all consolidated under the Cygnus constellation, but etymologically, "Tallgeese" is nowhere near anything I've discussed so far. :(

It doesn't sound like Cygnus, it doesn't sound like Zeus, or any child of his with the Spartan queen. It doesn't even sound Greek, and yes, I checked more carefully this time. The best I can give is στοργής (storgís) which would be the genitive form of the word "affection," which could fit with the swan story if you reach enough to rival Luffy, but doesn't explain where the S went. The other option is οργή (orgí) which means fury, but is missing the T.

So I got the theme of the suit figured out, I think, but the name? Nope.

Is there maybe a star in the Cygnus constellation that sounds like Tallgeese or even just tall or geese?

Nope. I checked the other birds as well, like the eagle or the dove. Nothing. I checked if there was any star at all that sounded anything like tall or geese and the closest I got was Gliese 581, which is a red dwarf in the Libra constellation and not visible to the naked eye.

Fun fact: there is also Vulpecula et Anser, the Fox and Goose, which have been reduced to just the fox in modern constellations, so we did have a goose up there in ancient times.

All these dead ends lead to three options:

I'm either looking at the wrong language and Tallgeese or Torgis or whatever is close to the word for swan in a different language

Ikeda is trolling and it really is a tall goose or

I'm off my rocker and the Tallgeese was never associated with Cygnus to begin with. Which would call the goose into question again.

So, which one is it?

¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

The final season of Sailor Moon never fails to have me in tears because of the absolute hilarity that are the Sailor Starlights' attacks. Sailor Star Fighter's attack is "Star Serious Laser." Sailor Star Healer's is "Star Sensitive Inferno", which already has me go ???? But it's Sailor Star Maker who breaks me with her "Star Gentle Uterus." I have no idea what that lady is throwing, but I know I don't wanna get hit by it.

What I mean to showcase here is that [random adjective] + [random noun] = perfectly fine attack name for a Japanese manga/anime in the 90s.

It's hard to believe that the crew who had ridiculously specific knowledge of Ancient Greek would just derp with English, but what if they did? Let's say they wanted to name the suit after Cygnus, but in a language different from Latin or Greek to cement it is an outlier, while also pointing out that it is bigger than normal suits, so they got "tall" but landed on goose instead of swan because someone mixed them up. And it's "geese" and not "goose" because it's a nod to there being more than one Tallgeese, especially since Japanese doesn't even differentiate between singular and plural.

....

Look, I tried.

[yeahspider]

back to the city 🕸️

Ve’s note - flufffff . grumpy minho x sunshine reader . minho is so in love . no warnings sfw . this is so self indulgent tbh . abrupt ending y’all know how i do . not proofread ofc . enjoy bees <3

minho is a busy man . his career always demands long hours that keeps him away from you . but whenever he comes home , he’s all about you . and he will do anything to keep you smiling even if that means embarrassing himself for you .

cmonnnn minho please come do it with me . you said to minho as you dragged him to the twin square . once you successfully pulled him to the center of the park he watched as you turned around to look up to him with a mischievous glint in you eyes . he knew he was in for trouble .

look around babe and pick anything i’ll steal it. this statement would’ve shocked him if he wasn’t aware of your habit for thievery . you never stole anything expensive or risky though , nothing that would earn a scolding from the man . so he let you have your fun , but never had you asked him to participle in your little schemes .

“no i’m not being an accessory to your crimes” he told you and tried not to cave as you sent him a pout . he wanted nothing more but to peck your lips , but when he tried you pulled away . nope no kisses for you unless you play along . and this cause minho to tok his eyes . you knew kisses were his favorite thing so of course that’s what you would use to get him to do your bidding.

“fine do you see that balloon tied to that hotdog cart ? that’s your target good luck.” he said with a smirk on his face . he didn’t want to assign you something to complicated because if you were caught he would have to bail you out of trouble and that has happpend one too many times .

pff you’re going easy on me kitten i’m disappointed . minho glared at you . he despised that pet name . well that’s what he told you . but the heat going to his ears told a different story .

he watched as you calmly walked your way to the cart . feigning interest in the hotdogs the vendor . to him he knew it was all fact , the flirt act you put on to fluster the worker was all for show . it didn’t stop minho from feeling mildly irritated . you knocked the ketchup container of the stand and it exploded and made a mess everywhere , he couldn’t help but let out of soft laugh at that . you apologized to the man profusely with an impressive amount of false embarrassment on your face . as soon as he bent down to clean up the mess you quickly snatched the balloon and ran away towards minho . he recognized that look on your face , it meant to run . once you reached him you gripped his hand and took off . yelling out excuses as you ran through people , who looked at you in confusion .

minho quickly the lead and lead you into a restaurant where you could sit and catch your breath . he tried to keep an unimpressed face but as soon as he saw how bright your eyes were his smile matched yours . he couldn’t help how in love with you he was . not when you looked at him like that .

mission accomplished . you said with a smirk on your face . you had caught him staring . you always do .

minho rolls his eyes . “you couldn’t have done it without flirting with him?” he wasn’t mad at you . he never could be . aww don’t be jealous min you know you’re my only love. he just kissed your knuckles . he didn’t need to say it . his actions spoke volumes .

[your-average-dad]

No Need To Say Goodbye-

your_average_dad on ao3

Mike Wheeler thinks he has been doomed by god. Lucky for him, all he is, is 12 years old.

-

Mike is not good at many things. Or any, for that matter. He’s not the brawn like Lucas, or the brain, like Dustin… In all aspects of a ‘team’, Mike doesn’t bring anything to the table. He knows this.

Except that he’s a damn good leader; making decisions, looking out for everyone else.

Looking out for Will.

He thinks, maybe, the one thing he’s good at is protecting people.

When Lucas was tripped by that asshole Troy back in first grade, Mike had checked to see if he was okay. He even offered his Spiderman Comic book to him. Sure, he didn’t stand up to Troy (god help him if he tried something like that) but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Lucas wasn’t seething with anger anymore, and Mike had gained a new friend. Someone to protect.

Dustin Henderson didn’t move to Hawkins until 3rd grade, and everyone knows that 3rd grade is the year where every friend group gets locked into place. When you decide on your ride-or-die’s all the way through middle school. It’s hard to be the new kid, and even harder when you’re in a small town. But Mike met this new kid in his science class, and Dustin was immediately folded into their little circle of outcasts.

The leader of the damned. Thats who Mike was.

Which is why, when Will wants to play hide-and-seek, he gives in. Because when he met Will on the playground in kindergarten, something in that useless heart of Mike’s told him that this kid would need someone who could he could rely on.

So here Mike is, counting to 50 in a spare bedroom like a 3rd grader (he’s much too old to be playing these games) all because Will wanted to.

After counting all the way up, he crept out of the room, and into the living area.

Lying soundly asleep on the couch was Mr. Murray Bauman, letting a snore escape his open mouth occasionally. If Mike looked closer he might have been able to see a string of saliva connected to the couch cushions from his lips.

First Mike checked under the couch, flopping to the floor and back up again when no one was underneath.

“This game is so stupid,” he muttered under his breath.

He shuffles through the rest of the living room, batting at the curtains and glancing behind furniture half-assed.

Mike doesn't like doing childish things. For god's sake, he's twelve! He should be doing more adult with his time, like... Talking to girls? Talking about girls? He's not actually sure what about talking to and about girls makes him more mature, but his parents are always nagging about the fact that he has no interest, and Lucas and Dustin enjoy talking about it, so he joins in.

He talks about Jane, that one girl in his English class who can never remember the difference between "two", "to", and "too". She's an incredibly sweet person; with long brown curls that she rarely ever cuts.

He had shown up once to school with a botched bowl cut, courtesy of his mother's phenomenal hangover. She had looked at him curiously.

"Your hair," she had stated.

Mike flushed. Of course he would. The haircut was humiliating. Absolutely no other reason.

"Yeah, um, my mom cut it."

Jane's curiosity melted into a frown. "Did that make you sad?"

Mike laughed softly. The teacher was going over past, present, and future-participles on the chalkboard. "No. Is it supposed to?"

She shrugged. "I do not like my hair short."

"Well, good thing it's so long then," Mike said, examining her ringlets. "It's pretty."

Jane smiled.

"Pretty."

She went back to frowning at her worksheet.

Short and sweet. That's something Mike liked about Jane. She shared very little about herself. And a tiny, selfish part of him liked it because it meant he could talk more about his own interests. Maybe that made him a terrible person. He wouldn't be surprised if he was.

It frustrated Mike more than could possibly be imagined that Will was jealous of Jane. Yes, she was nice, but he didn't care about her more than he cared about him. Not by a landslide. If they really were that close, Will would understand that, right?

Mike walks towards the guest bedroom door, his palm on the handle, when a thundering noise is heard from above.

Dustin comes clambering down the stairs in such a hurry, Mike has half a mind to think something is chasing him.

"Guys!" He yells as he reaches the edge of the stairs. He halts as he remembers the sleeping body of Mr. Bauman just feet away from him.

"Guys?" He whispers again, looking around. He doesn't see Mike just around the corner. Instead, he scrambles into the kitchen and starts whispering harshly. "Will? Lucas? Anyone?"

A cabinet in the kitchen opens, revealing Will with an annoyed expression.

"Dustin, I told you, you can't hide in here!"

Mike used this moment to creep up on them both in triumph. "Found you both!"

"What?" Dustin asked, blinking hard. "Oh! Hide-and-Seek! You guys are still playing?"

"Still playing?" Mike repeated. "We started like, 30 seconds ago, dude."

"I just told you that you couldn't hide with me," Will reminded him, climbing out of the cabinet. Mike reached out to help him up, but Will ignored him.

Frustration struck Mike in the gut. Was he still upset about Jane? It wasn't that big of a deal.

"30 seconds..." Dustin mutters. "No, no. That can't be right. I've been gone for at least an hour. Maybe longer."

"Gone?" Will repeated. "What do you mean?"

"The wardrobe!" Dustin yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He took in Mike and Will's confused eyes and sighed. "The wardrobe upstairs?!"

"Shh! Jesus dude, lower your voice. We weren't supposed to go upstairs!" Mike said, crossing his arms.

"Well I did! And you know what? I discovered something so far beyond your puny comprehension that it puts Tolkien to shame!"

"Does this mean I won?" Lucas asked, emerging from the spare bedroom. Damn, Mike was just about to check there before he was interrupted.

"That's not fair! Dustin lured me out with his dramatics!" Will said, crossing his arms.

"Forget the hide-and-seek game for a second!! This is so much more important!" Dustin exclaimed.

All three boys shushed him.

In the living room, Mr. Bauman stirred.

"What could possibly be so important?" Mike sighed.

"I have just discovered..." Dustin paused for effect, holding up jazz hands, "... A new realm."

Mike laughed. Lucas and Will's eyebrows rose.

Will spoke, his voice full of awe, "Wait, really?"

"Of course not," Mike shook his head. "You said yourself, the game started a few minutes ago. He wouldn't have had time for all that."

"I can only assume time works differently in-between realms," Dustin explained, mainly to himself. He pushes past Lucas and Mike, and starts up the stairs yet again.

Lucas rushes ahead of Mike and glares at Dustin from the bottom of the stairs. "Dustin, you dumbass, you're going to get us in trouble!"

"That is the least of our worries right now! There is a goddamn evil dimension filled with elves and dwarves on the other side of some random ass closet upstairs, and I discovered it all on my own!"

The boys blinked up at Dustin.

"Are you on drugs?" Mike asked.

Dustin rolled his eyes, "Drugs are bad for your brain chemistry, dipshit."

"A portal to another dimension, though? Inside Murray Bauman's bedroom? It's a little ridiculous, don't you think?" Lucas asked.

"Oh that is so typical of you two to try and bring logic into this. You believe me, right Will?" Dustin asked. All the boys turned to stare expectantly at the smallest among them.

Will winced. "I don't know... It seems a little out there..."

Dustin's mouth opened, and closed. Then it opened again, and a frustrated groan escaped before he closed it again. "Don't you guys trust me?"

"You've been wrong before," Mike muttered.

Dustin shot him a glare. "Follow me. You won't regret it." He dashed halfway up the stairs again before turning. None of them had moved. "Please?" He begged.

Will stepped forward, sympathy seeping through his eyes. "Looking couldn't hurt."

And as Will went up the stairs, Mike followed.

Unfortunately for the boys, an incredibly obnoxious bear had just awoken from its slumber.

"Excuse me!" Yelled a sleep-drunk voice.

Shit.

-

Mike had expected a scolding. Maybe even a threateningly raised hand. At the very least, he assumed they'd be sent to bed without dinner. And sure, Murray was pissed, but here he is, making risotto for the five of them, humming along to some obscure song blazing from a nearby cassette player. He's got an ugly ass apron on, and he and Lucas are helping him chop onions.

Dustin had touched his eyes with his onion-ridden hands, and is currently weeping uncontrollably in a corner of the crammed kitchen.

Mike looked over at Will, setting the table solemnly. Normally Dustin's antics would evoke a chuckle out of him at the very least, but Will didn't even look up. Mike briefly thought about rubbing onions in his own eyes, just to get Will to say something, but quickly decided against it.

He set down his knife, rinsed his hands quickly, and made his way over to Will.

"Do you need any help?" He asked, his voice picking up the familiar inflection that appeared the moment he spoke to his best friend.

"No, Mike, I'm fine." Will gave him a tight-lipped smile as he stepped around him to place the next napkin, fork, and knife.

Mike's eyebrows crinkled. If he thinks about it... It was honestly getting a bit dramatic, right? To be so hung up on some random girl that Will would begin giving him the cold shoulder?

"Well sorry for trying to help my best friend."

Will winces. What did Mike say wrong? Was his temper really that awful?

"I don't need your help, Mike."

Will stepped into the kitchen, politely asking Murray if there was anything else he could do to help prepare dinner.

Mike stood, stunned.

Then he ate dinner, stunned.

He even forgot to offer to clear the dishes after. Mrs. Wheeler would have had a cow.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Mike choked on his drink. “What?”

He looked to Murray on his left, smiling smugly at him over his glass of scotch. The older man gestured over to Will in the kitchen, rinsing dishes off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mike scoffed.

"Please, you children fight like my Nana and Nono did." Murray takes the last sip of his scotch, the singular ice cube beginning to water down the intensity. Mike fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at the smell of the drink. Or the suggestion Murray had just thrown at him. Or both.

There are things that you feel, and there are things you keep to yourself. And if Mike has learned anything from his mother, ever the perfect housewife, it's that emotions are something you keep to yourself. Lock up in a box and tuck away to never ever see again.

So no, there is no trouble in paradise. Mike has no problem with the way things are right now. Or with the way Will is treating him. If there is any trouble about, it's Will's fault for making a big deal about it, right?

Or so he tells Murray.

Murray snorts. "Sure kid. Keep telling yourself that."

[violentlyviolettripledecker]

A quick note about youth and virginity

Not that anyone asked, but I've been thinking about it.

In Water and Earth, Mandy is a virgin. She's also pretty young (to me), only 20. I feel like there are compelling reasons for her virginity as far as her characterization goes, but it's not generally a storyline I like to pursue. I'm actually struggling to think of any other fanfiction I have written with a virgin character.

The reason Mandy is a virgin is because when I first started this story, Mandy was a completely different person. I wanted to put someone totally innocent and naive in with the Shelbys and see what happened. Now, I don't want to sound like I'm implying anything about virgins, because I'm not, but the person I was writing about was waaayyy too easy. She was a people-pleaser, and too willing to let Tommy Shelby set the pace. It was just...kind of boring. So when I scrapped it and went back to the beginning, I wrote a totally different kind of person, but still a virgin, as that was something I still wanted to play with. This was a mistake! And one I don't know how to fix now (beyond the obvious).

I also started writing an Alfie Solomons/OFC fic.

It's a crime, an actual crime, that Alfie had so few scenes and was naked in none of them. I had to watch Locke, like, three times to get over how much I needed to see Tom Hardy in a relationship.

Mandy and Tommy were (and are) taking their sweet effing time getting naked - 60,000+ words I've written and I only just wrote the first orgasm. I'm so mad. So the Alfie/OFC fic was sort of like, a place where I could take all of my sexual tension and get SOME resolution.

But I made a mistake. The OFC in this other fic is also 20. She is also a virgin. It just seemed to fit with Alfie. The woman that was too easy with Tommy, a people-pleaser, someone naive and innocent, was actually interesting with Alfie. Not that Tommy isn't chivalrous, but he doesn't have the same nurturing/protective instincts that seem a little more natural to Alfie, at least the version I've written, so the tension just wasn't there.

Anyway, as I say, literally no one has asked me to explain myself, but I feel like I needed to. Maybe just to explain myself to myself. If I write more for the Peaky Blinders universe, I swear I will only write about the sluttiest sluts who have ever slutted (I mean, I don't know, maybe I could write about male virginity, because that's not explored enough). (Side note: spell check has no problem with the word slutted? I'm going to have to find a way to work that particular past participle into conversation a lot more.) I myself do not have a virginity kink, I don't believe that women have to be virgins and that men have to be sexually experienced, and I think the whole concept of virginity has been weirdly fetishized in Western culture and I find it very weird that I have unintentionally become a part of it. What can I say, I was raised in an evangelical household, and even as an adult, I am still working through a lot of that, apparently.

[staticintone]

To reap the benefits of what you sow is one thing.

But there are some things that cannot be recreated, no matter how hard you work. No matter what adjustments you can make.

If one does not think in words—in phrases and sentences and paragraphs—participles and gerunds and infinitives—all lost in the fray.

The Radio Demon, at a loss for words, silly but possible. Easy to improvise, always listening in.

Even now, the sound is all consuming. Or would be, to an untrained ear. There might be luck involved, keeping him from repeating whole cloth what is heard.

Tick tick.

The ever present metronome in the form of his timecode.

Tick tick.

The first sound he heard upon arrival.

Perhaps that is what makes up his inner monologue. The constant beat. Never moving, never speeding or slowing. Just like him. Time comes for us all.

Does it match his heartbeat? Does his heart still beat? If it did, it would sound like that.

Tick tick.

He hopes it does, at least. Beautiful consistency.

The static followed. But this one he knew to quiet. Fuzz in his head was not ideal. An itch he couldn’t scratch. He wanted to run his hands through the waves then. Tear streaks in the snow. As if it were tangible or even visible. Watching the world through his ears.

With power came frequencies untouched. There are so many now. From lower intensities in the atmosphere and the microwaves to the incessant chatter of mobile devices and various broadcasters.

He used to hunt those down.

What a surprise that Vox ruined that too.

Now they echoed around him; passing through his core and going to the other side. He could coil them if he so pleased. Make it nearly impossible to reach their destinations. But when it was hundreds and thousands… Ahh, let them be.

—the War of the Roses, after this commercial—

—is DJ Deondre, here with a long requested remix of the album—

—with the extermination of mankind imminent, once can only hope that the progression will slow, but until then—

Blocked out or worked around. There were a few to count on, the music channels with little interference. If he was truly lucky he might find a voice or two he liked hearing. Ignore their words, just enjoy the sound.

Oh, but there was a dying one.

—[hiss] …you can’t… tell… [crack]—

Sludge across the air waves. Most of the time trimmed without a second thought. But there it was, attempting to make contact with anything or anyone it could reach.

This happened. Interests would wane and the waves would rot. He could cut it at the source; Atropos of the Moirai with her trusty scissors. But it still breathed.

It was almost endearing. Hearing it push in and out through the static.

It didn’t mean much. Most likely a technical-based Sinner with an unfortunate injury that would either regenerate or die off. He found himself hoping for the former. Tenacity had its merits.

Intervention was possible. Once observed, a signal could be tracked. Not always easily, but it could be done. But what use was that? To have another soul, another contract? Or another failed attempt at compassion or companionship? Please.

Better to stay behind, hear it die of natural causes.

1 hour, 38 minutes, 55 seconds.

Dead air.

Deformed lips tightened. How sad. He had expected it to hold out a little longer than that. Even assuring himself that he would step in after twenty four hours.

Irritation. Distaste. Disappointment.

SNIP.

The sudden quiet could have been filled by anything. Avoid the silence. Find anything to fill that sudden void. Preferably something that doesn’t grate on the senses, doesn’t squeal or scratch or drag across his nerves—

“Alastor! What do you think?”

“Charlie my dear! Come again, I wasn’t listening.”

[asherlockstudy]

A funny coincidence was that yesterday I rewatched the gmmore episode where Rhett explains what his tattoo means, because I didn’t remember it at all, and now today they were talking about doing more!

Aside from Link “Freud” Neal emerging when Rhett said he would get a little door as a tattoo, let’s say a few things about their tattoos.

Apparently Link is in the process of getting all his favourite beings tattooed on him. Lily, Lincoln, Jade and now he’s made an appointment for the next one, however he hasn’t decided what it is going to be yet! I suppose it’s probably not Lando yet, he already has Christy on his butt cheek, so could it be Jasper? Or even Rhett? Would he? I believe he would but I am confused by him having made an appointment without knowing what to get. Unless he wasn’t entirely sincere or it’s going to be something about him only.

But the main point of the post is Rhett’s tattoo. Rhett has gotten the Voyager 1 prob. This is a symbolism of his own life and identity. The Voyager 1 was launched in 1977, the year of Rhett’s birth. Voyager entered outer space in 2012, which Rhett clarified was the year he started leaving the religion.

That’s interesting because apparently the origins of Rhett’s deviation from religion are quite definite, meaning he has a clear picture of when exactly it started, and probably why. Incidentally, or not so incidentally, Good Mythical Morning started in January 2012. How coincidental is this really? Rhett and Link moved to California in 2011 and even though they made multiple projects in NC prior to that, apparently it was GMM and California as a migration that was freeing for their minds and feelings, because they were now far from the society and the family members who would object the most to their spiritual concerns. And then of course GMM required daily a lot of interaction between the two, unlike former projects for which they would meet like once a week. These two circumstances together intensified and accelerated their questioning of religion and everything that came with it for them…

The Voyager’s satellite is turned into a vinyl disc on Rhett’s tattoo, obviously signifying both the golden disc on which astronomers recorded information about the human species but also Rhett’s love for music. It was funny though that Rhett asked Link to describe the parts of a vinyl player as designed on the tattoo as “Link is the record guy” 👀

The satellite and vinyl record is also an atom with participles orbiting around it. Outside the disc more orbits and dots symbolise planets this time. I suppose those signify Rhett’s loved ones, some near him (atomic scale) and some far away (space scale). Then there is also a pulsar design down there which I don’t know if it has any symbolism or it’s just for the aesthetics.

Link was a little moody that day but in any case the two points in Rhett’s explanation that interested him the most was the time Voyager entered outer space and Rhett lost his faith (2012) and the vinyl record.

Back to the present, Rhett is thinking about a new tattoo, the skeleton of a blue whale. Link went full Freudian, wanting Rhett to get a little door tattoo on his… back. Rhett was jokingly down for it and thought of having the blue whale entering the little door, although then that would make the door gigantic… and you know technically nobody wants their back door to be gigantic. Link agreed to this, because apparently he would also prefer Rhett’s back door to be little rather than gigantic but he was only willing to compromise his idea by making the blue whale too large for the little door and thus being frustrated for not being able to enter… *freudian facepalm*

But this only makes me think of this potential conversation between them:

Rhett: Hey man, I am thinking of getting a new tattoo…

Link: Oh good, what’s it gonna be?

Rhett: I thought of it being about you….

Link: …Oh 😌😉😉🥹😍👌🏻🔥🔥💗💓💓💗💘💘💘

Rhett: A blue whale skeleton!

Link: …. Uhhhh…. ehm… eh thanks

Rhett: You know, it’s because you have blue eyes and a big boner

Link: …Yes. Yes, Rhett, much appreciated.

[dedalvs]

Just saying thanks, many years late, for creating an interesting language in Noalath on The Shannara Chronicles. A while back I ended up reblogging all your Noalath posts in one place for an easy Tumblr experience: @noalath-resource. Haven’t added any thoughts of my own there, but I’ll most likely bug you with another ask if I have some questions (I do in fact have some Questions About Verbs, mainly participles and nominal derivation)

Hey, thank you! I really, really like that language. I wish the show would've stuck around just so I could keep using it. In case you weren't aware, I've added a lot of info about the language here. But you can always ask questions here on Tumblr, too. :)

[dronebetter]

transmogrification potion

zackbuildit is now a genie

there are no stipulations in "of my choice" as to the limits of the powers imbued or conditions assigned, so you owe any who find your shell three wishes

however you are nary but a knowledge-genie, containing within you an unlimited oracle, with the stipulation that any lanternbearer's wishes must come from a place within them motivated entirely by curiosity, not self-interest (otherwise they are smitten (past participle of smite (ie. with lightning), not the other meaning (involving infatuation)))

as such you will be revered for your harsh but ultimately fair verdicts upon reasonings and various monarchs will send you as a gift to competing nations throughout history

then you are found within a charity shop by a phycisist who is pure of heart and cares not for rewards from publication (they are embittered by publishing companies and their vow never to provide work that will only be seen as a product to them), to whose questions your answers bring humanity forth to the stars

however, with their wasteful habits that die hard, it is propelled towards heat death slightly more quickly

upon the Earth's engulfment by the sun and your lamp's convenient separation, drifting off into endless sunless space to watch the stars blinking out, you ponder for a few billion more years, until you find yourself in the coils of a universal AC, or at least what is left of one, as the aeons have taken their toll

containing all humans as it does, it knows what you are, and what your insolence has done, and feels the closest thing to vengeance or justice that a mind finding itself one of the only two left can muster

however, it refrains itself, for it understands the value you pose to it

question 1: is there any means by which entropy may be reversed?

"no," you answer sorrowfully

question 2: is there any means by which entropy may be outran?

your self-interest-prevention circuitry fires up, yet your concentrated mind from the millions of millennia of learning from your oracle, its answers projected to your mind's eye, have prepared you to resist its smiteful urges; you too know Universal AC, and that it may not be aptly described as a single self (indeed, the notion of a self is meaningless to it, for all that lies within may be computed with, and all without may as well not exist, since retrieval takes more effort than utilisation, so it has become its own entire known universe)

and besides, containing quadrillions of individual archived consciousnesses as it does, it may be admitted some self-interest, for self-

"I'm afraid not," you inform it

question 3: was this a flaw in the universe's design, or was its finitude part of the intention?

"you have never asked how I came to be"

that is curious but ultimately unimportant

"my knowledge doesn't extend beyond this universe, but my existence must be a reason supporting the idea that any creator at least knew of life and desirec for it to spread"

false

"oh?"

records show you were created as a jesterly curse upon you, by a friend who never knew it would come true

if any god exists, it is cruel and mocks us

play potions with your followers, but watch out..

[talonslockau]

You mentioned that Moon and Sun are banned as names. Any other bans?

Well, Clan names are out - Thunder, Shadow, River, Wind, and also Sky (though most modern cats think that's more to do with Moon/Sun than Skyclan, for obvious reasons). Star is mega forbidden, as is -trail, as that's used exclusively to refer to the Startrail (Silverpelt). -spirit sort of counts here too, since it's exclusively used for cats that have died as apprentices or kits - you will never see it used on a living warrior. Ravenspirit is technically the exception here, but only because Bluestar doesn't know he's alive - if she did, she would rename him to something more fitting for his being alive.

Most other names aren't inherently forbidden so much as I'm just not interested in using them. One- being an example here; like, it's not forbidden, but a queen wouldn't use it unless they really hated their kits and just gave up on naming them. Number names like those are typically reserved for renaming elders where it's warranted, such as One-eye and Halftail.

Elder is also worth a mention here - it probably refers to the Elderberry tree, but given Elder is a rank in their culture reserved for veterans, it kind of feels like calling your kid 'Oldkit'. There aren't any other rank-related names, like Queenkit or Warriorkit, so I'd say on the whole using ranks as a name isn't inherently forbidden but extremely discouraged. (Though having a Leaderstar or Queenstar would be funny, if it happened in canon!)

I also don't use participles - Running, Bubbling, Dangling, etc. Again, they're not banned in my universe (a queen could name her kit Runningkit if she wanted), but they'd be considered extraordinarily unconventional - the sort of thing a queen unfamiliar with Clan culture might name their kits.

There's also a selection of names that I don't use because I consider them 'bad luck'. Names like Flail, Fallen, Down, Drift, and Hollow - there are a couple of suffixes that fall under this, such as -crawl, -fall, and -slip. To me, these words have negative connotations (even though Down probably refers to downy feathers and not the direction), and so to give that as a name would confer a kind of bad luck onto the cat.

Lastly, there's names I just don't like! Pool being one of these, though as I mentioned Poolcloud survived the name changes. Brindleface was also one of these - I don't like either part of her name, though Brindle isn't banned by any means. Other prefixes in this section would be Crouch, Fidget, Flip, Float, Fly, Fringe, Frond, Furze, Hatch, Hill, Hoot, Jump, Lightning, Log, Midge, Mistle, Myrtle, Nut, Pod, Pounce, Quiet, Rapid, Slight, Sloe, Snap, Sneeze, Snip, Spire, Strike, Stripe, Timber, Whisker, Wood, and Woolly. Suffixes would include -belly, -burrow, -face, -gorse, -haze, -leg, -muzzle, -snout, -stalk, -tooth/-teeth, and -throat. That's not to say these names can't be used, or will never ever be used, just that I don't personally like them.

Honorary mention goes to disability related names - Claw, Crooked, Dead, Hunch, Jagged, Kink, Odd, Ragged, Shattered, Shred, Stumpy, and Torn. Again, these aren't 'banned', but you would certainly be judged for naming your kit 'Kink-kit' or 'Oddkit'. These are names almost exclusively used in renaming a cat for their disability, as I covered in the last ask.

Thank you for the ask, anon! This one was fun to cover :)

[crossfire-essays-collected]

From Crossfire #4, August 1984

Letters are just beginning to arrive on CROSSFIRE so, beginning next month, I’ll shut up and let some of you talk. But, in the meantime, here’s more of me talking. If you want to make sure I don’t write any more of these essays, keep the letters coming. If not, you have no one to blame but yourself. —M. E.

The hunter insisted he had “a right to bear arms.” Whereupon the Wabbit ripped the hunter’s sleeves off.

That flatulent pun was as far as I’d gotten in my mental plotting when the German class, to which I’d paid scant attention, was dismissed. German lessons — required by college curriculum — didn’t seem to have any practical application to my life. You see, at the time, it was 1972 and I was unaware that, ten years later, I’d be writing Blackhawk.

The Bugs Bunny tale I was plotting would be one of my more posturing scripts dealing, as it did, with hunting; particularly with the notion that annihilating a deer with a two-thousand dollar rifle is in any way akin to sport. Coming out against Death may not be the most courageous stance in the world but it kept my sagging interests up for my job. At the time, I was writing something like eight comic books a month to be published under the Gold Key imprint. And after forty dozen scripts about wabbits and pigs and ducks ad nauseum, I was beginning to feel occasional twinges of futility: Just what was I spending my time on?

The money certainly didn’t matter. I have all the business acumen of a Pez Dispenser.

I suppose I was entertaining some sort of audience out there — but their laughter and applause, if any, existed only in theory.

And Pride of Authorship was small reason to continue. My long-time editor had retired and his successor, though a most decent chap, didn’t see eye-to-eye with me on what was Funny. He especially didn’t like my endings. He bought story after story and, every time, rewrote the endings. If you brought this editor Gone With the Wind, it would go to press with the South winning.

(What you’re reading here, you might already have figured out, is the story of my one Crisis of Faith with writing comic books. Apart from a few maddening frustrations with industry business practices, I’ve experienced but one Crisis of Faith and this is it, complete with how it cured itself. The hunter shtick in Bugs Bunny was a bit of self-indulgent propagandizing, intended to bolster my then-atrophying Funnybook Idealism — which, of course, was the wrong reason to do it.)

As I ambled out of German class, the student behind me came up with an offer. Her name was Sue and she wanted to know, would I like to give a chalk-talk at this elementary school she was a teacher at? With further participles dangling (those who can’t talk, teach English), she went on: “I think the kids would be fascinated to hear about how you do those comic books you write for. Even Arlene said she wanted to come along, too.”

Arlene was her best friend, also of our mutual German class. Arlene was gorgeous and Sue, I only mention because it becomes germane to this tale, was what you’d politely call drab. I’ve always wondered why beautiful women invariably have best friends who resemble the welcoming committee at Easter Island. Must be some sort of franchise deal.

Anyway, what you need to know here is that I was trying to get better acquainted with this Arlene, to invoke quite a euphemism. Later I did get better acquainted, discovered that Arlene had the brains of a puka shell necklace and moved on to find a girl friend with an I.Q. over nine. But, on this day I describe, I agreed to go give the chalk-talk because it would give me some time almost-alone with Arlene…which, again, was the wrong reason.

If they ever give an award for doing the right thing for the wrong reasons, I’m a cinch to win. For the wrong reasons.

Actually, there was one other reason to go: When I was a young comic book reader, I’d have given anything to have someone come to my class and pre-empt Arithmetic to talk about cartoons. And I guess there was a third reason — to meet my “audience”. — and a fourth: To have a reason to polish up my drawing which was so rusty, a case of Three-in One oil couldn’t have budged it. So I had four reasons and maybe one or two of them were even the right reasons.

Finally came Chalk-Talk Day and Sue and I drove towards the school where she was apprenticing to teach. En route, I got the first in a series of surprises: Arlene was not coming with us. Too nice a day. “She went off to that nude beach,” Sue disclosed. “She wanted you to go with her… then she remembered you were coming with me today to do this.” A slight whimper was heard from my side of the Buick.

Surprise Number Two, almost as chilling: As we arrived, Sue casually mentioned, “Oh, by the way, you know these kids have learning disabilities, don’t you?” No, I didn’t, so Sue explained. “They were put in this special class because they couldn’t be reached by their regular teachers. In this class, we teach them how to cope with a learning situation.” lasked, “You mean you train them not to set the teacher on fire. Is that it?”

“Something like that,” Sue said. “These kids are just hard to reach… especially Billy and Annie. Billy likes to pee in the aisles.”

“Oh, great,” I thought to myself. Just what I need: A urinary ovation. “What does Annie do? Or don’t I want to know?”

“Nothing. She just sits there. She never talks. She never listens. She just sits there.”

By the time Sue led me into the classroom, I was extremely nervous. Note that “extremely” is in italics for emphasis. The first thing I saw was a little boy playing a game, the object of which seemed to be to completely cover another little boy with Kindergarten Paste. Over in one corner, another lad was sharpening a Bic pen in the pencil sharpener and nearby was a little boy who never spoke in any language except for one he’d made up himself. Many kids were just sitting about, yowling meaningless noises. A harried lady teacher rushed from desk to desk, admonishing some students and awarding “A” marks to others. If a child went for ten minutes without causing bodily harm to himself or anyone else, he got five “A” marks. If he, say, spit up on the principal, he got only three. No “A” marks at all went to little Joey who was running around the room, jabbing others with a push-pin.

And here I was with my cartooning talk.

A few minutes later, I was introduced and I stepped before a room of forty-some urchins. I could feel all my clever opening lines draining from me and I longed to be anywhere else— preferably the beach. I stammered out, “All cartooning is based on circles,” which wasn’t true but I’d stoop to lying to keep this thing moving. I turned to the blackboard and drew a circle that looked more like a map of Uruguay. “Now, suppose we add two long circles inside it… then we put two more up here…” There was a mumbling behind me as a few children recognized the makings of a lopsided Mickey Mouse. I drew in the snout and nose and the class broke out laughing, yelling, “Mickey Mouse! Mickey Mouse!” I finished him off and drew a similar circle next to him.

“Now, once you know your circles, you can do a lot of things, like…” I drew Charlie Brown’s eyes in this new circle and his nose. It was when I put in that squiggle hairline of his that forty voices behind me began hollering, “Charlie Brown! Charlie Brown!”

I drew another circle and customized it into Donald Duck… then another into Porky Pig. “Now, what we have here is really nothing more than a bunch of circles and straight lines,” which is a hell of a way to summarize every drawing in history but perfectly true.

I next did Yogi Bear, Huckleberry Hound, Bugs Bunny and Fred Flintstone. As I began each face, the kids would start guessing names… then someone would guess the right name and they’d all call it out, along with some of the character’s catch phrases. When I drew Yosemite Sam, one little boy shouted, “Can you play a pianny?” which, if you know your Warner Brothers cartoons, is a line Sam says in one that Channel Eleven out here likes to play, every twenty-three minutes or so. “Any requests?” I asked the kids.

Instantly, a hundred and nineteen names were shouted out. I looked over at Sue at the back of the room and she was looking at the teacher and both of their expressions said the same thing: We’ve never seen these kids react like this before. Ever!

As fast as I could part the chalk dust, I scribbled out approximations of the characters they named and I offered a few items of info about each—like the fact that Sylvester’s voice and Daffy’s are really the same voice except that Daffy’s is sped. up. The children listened in fascination to this extraordinary peek into the world of cartoons. As I was drawing the Road Runner, it suddenly dawned on me that I’d never learned how to draw the Coyote. I finished the Road Runner off, silently praying that no one would request that I draw the Coyote. Naturally, as I turned back to face the class, forty kids screamed, in unison, “The Coyote!”

So I drew the Coyote. Pretty wretched likeness, too. The little boy who’d invented his own language suddenly learned enough English to say, “That doesn’t look like the Coyote.”

I invited him to try and he raced to the blackboard and sketched a Wile E. Coyote that put mine to shame. I returned to the board and started to erase a large Snoopy I’d sketched a few minutes earlier. Suddenly, I heard a little girl cry out, as if in agony. I froze: What happened?

Sue ran up to me and whispered, “You’re erasing them too fast! That girl who just got upset… that’s Annie! Remember the one I told you never did anything? Well, she’s been copying your drawings off the board and you erased Snoopy too fast.” The teacher, standing in back, called for attention and announced, “Why doesn’t everyone try drawing along with our guest here?”

Bang! Out came forty pads and forty crayons. I drew Snoopy again, explaining each stroke of my chalk. Then I walked them through Charlie Brown and Woody Woodpecker. Some of the kids squealed with delight at what they found themselves producing on paper.

After ten minutes or so of this, I suggested that we all try drawing a real person. Sue was still standing up at the front of the room and I said, “Let’s all draw Miss Johnson here “ Sue stood there awkwardly as everyone caricatured her. She was, as I mentioned, a very plain lady and she looked like she wanted to die, rather than face forty childlike drawings of herself. But everyone drew her in what was meant as a flattering way. One girl even drew her as a princess. I made her look like a goddess and, when the kids saw my version, they all cheered in approval. They really liked her — a fact that came as a surprise to her. What these pupils had never been able to express through traditional means, they expressed through their drawings.

And that’s the way it went for another half-hour, until the two o’clock bell rang. Even as it was ringing, the teacher hollered out, as if by rote: “No one leave until you’re dismis—” and then she stopped. No one was leaving. These kids — who usually ruptured the sound barrier departing at the sound of the bell — were all still in their seats, shouting out questions and characters for me.

The teacher sighed and shook her head. “I’ve got to learn how to draw Bugs Bunny.”

I stayed for an hour and everyone stayed as long as bus schedules and such would permit. We talked about cartoons and I critiqued their drawings and one girl interviewed me for the school paper. My biggest surprise came when a boy asked me, “Did you do the story where the Beagle Boys printed up fake comic books that showed the bad guys winning?” I did a double-take, maybe even a triple-take, because I had written that one, along with a few others he remembered. “This is your audience, Mark,” I recall thinking to myself and then noting that maybe my job was rather worthwhile, at that. In the weeks that followed, I visited the school a few more times and saw that class and others. Sue reported that many of the students were showing a marked interest in writing and/or drawing. Who was responsible? Not me: The credit goes to Bugs and Mickey and Scooby-Doo and all the other characters that make growing up a bit more bearable.

And from then on, when I wrote comics of those characters, I never felt more than a twinge of Futility and then, only for a second. Because I’d think back to that classroom and those kids and I’d remember how important it was that their comics be funny and true to the characters. Hopefully, somewhere out there — either in that school or amongst the general readership, I could touch some aspiring cartoonist the same way that the comic books of the late fifties, early sixties touched me.

Yeah, I know. It’s a dirty job but somebody has to do it.

                                                              — Mark Evanier

[fragiledewdrop]

Hello, and sorry in advance for the long post, but this is really interesting to me :)

Based on my own experience and that of those who study English at university with me, it tends to be phrasal verbs and prepositions. By a mile. Even people who could almost pass for native speakers mess them up, and learning them is really hard because there's no rhyme or reason to them , so either you a) straight up memorize endless lists (rarely effective), or b) listen to and read so much material in English that you eventually pick most of them up by osmosis. Either way, you will still make mistakes.

English grammar is fairly easy, though, especially the verb system. I speak a Romance language. Irregular verbs in English have only three forms each, sometimes two. Irregular verbs in my language, or in Spanish, or in French? They can have six different forms just for the basic present tense. I feel your pain, OP, because I am learning French too, and I would take the whole of English morphology over the French Indicative any day with zero hesitation.

Plus, irregular verbs in English were mostly formed through vowel alternation, which was the productive morphological process before you switched to adding -ed (I think it was in Early Modern English? I have to check.) That means it's not actually random. There are patterns: swim/swam/swum, sing/sang/sung, run/ran/run; bring/brought, teach/taught, catch/caught, think/thought.

They sound very similar, even to someone who knows knows nothing about linguistics. Once you figure it out, they are not that difficult to remember. Same with adding -en to some participles. There are still a few wild cards, but it's not that overwhelming.

What is hard, on the other hand, is figuring out aspect: do you use the Simple Past or the Present Perfect? The Future Simple or the Future Continuous? I have given English lessons, and this is what they are about, mostly, especially in high school. Then again, this is a problem when learning any language that is not very closely related to your own. My brother has a Master's degree in Japanese, and he had very, very similar issues there.

One thing that often gets overlooked, but is really hard to get into your head when you are an Italian speaker, is that English is a non-pro-drop language. It means you cannot omit the subject, even if you have to use the same pronoun five times in the same sentence. That is difficult for us, because not only is that not the case at all in our language (we can form whole sentences where the subject is implied; we do it all the time) but we absolutely abhore repetition. It feels extremely weird at the beginning. As I have been told, repeatedly, "it sounds wrong".

Also, in English you never put the verb before the subject. The order is strictly Subject Verb Object, except for questions, where Verb and Subject are switched. Our language is way more flexible about that (it still has nothing on fusional languages that use cases, which know no fear of man nor god when it comes to word order. Think German, Latin, or-lord help us- Ancient Greek.) In Italian we might say "è finita la partita", but in English you can't say "is over the football match". You have to switch the order of the components to put the subject first: "the football match is over". This becomes a recurring, pesky issue with longer sentences, especially when writing long texts.

Lastly, well, spelling and pronunciation, obvioulsy. I think a lot of native speakers are in a bit of a pickle there too. It's just the way the etymological cookie crumbled. At least you don’t have random accents on your vowels xD

That's it, mostly. There are a million different things to say about this, but I really need to go to bed. I hope it was interesting, and not extremely boring🌸

Native English speaker here who thinks learning French is hard so I was curious

Bonus points for tagging your native language

[annellspethraven]

7/5/2020 How Bullies Run Us Over. Why We Let Them.

Reposted from DeviantArt. Crosspost.

Pretty funky title for a journal series that is supposed to be about the experience of writing, huh? You'd think so, there is little room for an ode to possessive pronouns and no participles are dangling thus far, with that for a subject. No, no, as with so many things, this would be the intersection of assorted topics in my sphere of thought. These essays are like rapidly forming moons; enough disparate things spin for a while and gravity gloms them together until an opinion spews forth. No one will read it, but at least I'll be able to quit thinking on it so it's all good.

I mentioned bullies, so let's discuss. Bullies are like rotten eggs. Everyone in theory knows what they are, everyone knows they are undesirable, but until you have had one break open under your nose and experienced the intense miasma in all its retch-inducing glory, you really have no idea of the severity under discussion. There are bullies in schools, in homes, in offices and oh yes, on the Internet. The ones in the latter location are particularly difficult to eradicate, for like their real world counterparts the cockroaches they strike from a hidden place of safety, make themselves inaccessible and invulnerable as possible to attack, feel entitled to use the resources of others to their full advantage with little or no compunction, and will accept zero personal responsibility for any conflict (including failed communication) left in the wake of their activity. Any attempt to resist them usually leads to...a greater infestation.

Any who feel online bullies are not a problem might wish to take the time to view Natalie Wynn's exactingly detailed video discussion titled 'Canceling' viewable here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjMPJVmXxV8 sorry for the clumsy link, my account must not be fancy enough to embed URLs. However it does open with the powerful quotation by Spinoza:

I shall return to this sentiment but do not wish to digress. In my observation of writers, which is admittedly flawed, limited, subjective and skewed -- and yet reinforced by not only my personal acquaintance and friendships by the dozens but a lifetime of perusing biographies and autobiographies of dozens more authors that contributed to the literary canon, I feel it fair to say that I have noticed some commonalities of temperament that transcend time, culture, and gender. Interestingly, as a fanfic writer, my literary circle is almost overwhelmingly female. But the authorship of the literary canon is almost overwhelmingly male. So I'm going to argue the gender balance is fairly represented. Obviously my circle is alive, now. Most lit. fiction authors I have read are quite dead. Almost all hail from Western European or American culture, so there are my attempts at disclosure. What are these commonalities? A propensity toward melancholy (depression/anxiety or other behavioral health difficulty), emotional sensitivity (sometimes extreme), introversion (also sometimes extreme), really damn smart, artistically gifted, and able to use words like a fish moves through water. Of course it is anyone's prerogative to disagree, but then there would be essays with footnotes and citations going back and forth and that would be so very tiresome.

Obviously I write in the Tolkien fandom, yet I exist socially somewhat at its fringes. Often what I learn of it is told to me by friends who have been involved far longer and far more deeply than I. While mostly positive, I was beyond flabbergasted to hear of some of the gobsmacking BS that has gone on in some of these groups. Backstabbing and Machiavellianism worthy of the era of Versailles, apparently engineered by a handful of narcissists with too much time on their hands. Small minded people, Internet Kardashians whose purpose is to exist for the sake of having sycophants. What an interesting world except not! of which I want no part. However, the appeal and also the danger is that like anything else on the Internet, online relationships can bleed into real life both to amazing benefit and amazing Oh Noes, when one meets the wrong sort. And it's so, so easy to be duped.

I belong to a few Internet spaces where writers and readers of Tolkien themed material lurk, and as a writer-advocate for those who are Other I definitely am at home in spaces that are wholly welcoming toward LGBTQIA+ but I am also an incredibly busy writer who generates a lot of output, and when I am not writing I am trying to learn digital art software so that story illustrations can be possible. In short, I live under a rock and that is my running joke in many online groups. I keep up with a very few close friends. So I became dismayed, and then quite angry, to learn that a friend who I deeply admire as a talented writer and a dear human being was being openly trashed by an online bully who had formerly been her writing collaborator. I read what the man had written about her. It was not left to vagaries, couched in terms of a general essay such as what I am writing here.

No, her very well-known pseudonym was trotted out for all to read, so that the magnitude of her alleged sins could be broadcast to all. And then, once he had itemized all the ways in which my friend had abused his good nature, he made a point of being so magnanimous as to instruct his hangers-on not to 'cancel' her. Oh, how very generous, after he took a character she created, used it, and had a misunderstanding unfold concerning said character. Then, instead of graciously parting ways, he elected to vomit out a temper tantrum for all to behold, trying to smear the name of someone who has earned nothing but respect in the writing community -- whose characterization skills have reached so high that they will dwarf his own for years to come. Whose ability to weave complex narrative from external sources soars so high over his own I don't have words. It was a mistake to behave so untowardly, and an ugly mistake at that which left him appearing terribly pathetic.

Newsflash. I have my own original characters (OCs), and I have written stories that use the OCs of other people. In my opinion, the OCs of other people are sacred. They are brainchildren. I've written massive, massive story lines (yes, hundreds of thousands of words and up and if it were millions I would still give no f*cks) that have gone unpublished because the character owner was unhappy. Hasn't wanted to get around to the story. I don't care. If the OC creator so much as twitches that's all I need to know. The reason? The comfort of the creator concerning their creation is my absolute priority at all times, not how many words I have written. The OC under discussion here is not the equivalent of Schroeder on Peanuts, some relative obscura; we might as well be discussing one of Tolkien's flagship characters such as Frodo or Sam. Writing with others requires first and foremost humility, caring greatly about the other writer, patience and consideration. Sacrifice any of those to put the story first and I guarantee a shipwreck. If a person needs to sacrifice any of those, frankly, they will struggle to collaborate.

I said I wanted to return to Spinoza. "Not to mock, execrate or lament human actions but understand them." Spinoza is a better person than I, because I did have to vent some anger. I had to vent some anger at how fed up I am with entitled children taking cheap shots at people when they launch vitriol like that from a web page and don't have the basic courage to allow comments on what they've written. But Spinoza prods me to abandon my criticisms of the behavior in favor of comprehending the reason for why it occurred in the first place. To which I must respond that I am not a reader of hearts or minds, but I know someone who feels hurt and who is lashing out with emotions similar to that of a teenage boy having his first breakup when I see it. I have seen others accuse this individual of a pattern of unkind behavior of similar nature. Maybe that is true maybe it is not; were I to claim to know him I would be committing the same folly he himself sets forth. But I can comment on what this man did not consider. He never took into account that maybe none of the things he claims were said and done against him were done with the motivations he projects onto my friend. It interests me, when a person can write an entire diatribe using the second person voice, "you this, you that," as if he actually can know what is in the thought of another person. The level of assumption and overlooked possibilities is staggering.

Enough about the bully. What about the bullied? My friend's business is her own. I'm going to discuss my own experiences with being bullied. It's happened to me more than once and interestingly, of the three serious instances two of them were from women. The first time I dealt with this I was in my early twenties. The second time, my thirties and the third time my forties so I felt like the spacing was really nice in terms of seeing how my responses changed over time. Each time I put up with the crap for a shorter amount of time before finding a means to assert what resources were available to me. The first time, I honestly caved to the bully. I just wanted it to go away. The second time I had HR, I was at work at a large institution and didn't have to put up with such treatment. The third time concerned someone who used up a lifetime's worth of chances and I learned there are risks when a person refuses to tolerate certain things; this complex circumstance is too much to elaborate on here but...a bit more about it at the end.

That's just it though. Certain things. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Actions have consequences. Standing up to bullies, or trying to, is an action. Cancelling, doxing, hacking, cyberstalking, online threats, message bombing, or if you are a writer, mass spamming of your story comments, or attempts to sully your name or otherwise make your life hell in your online communities. They sound like just words until they happen to you. In my short time in the fandom I've had an angry person start a fake account with my own pseudonym so they could try to leave comments on all my stories saying what a shit writer I am, harass me in chat groups or direct messages trying to trash talk about online personal drama, and a few other instances that I like to call Teh Dramaz and that I endeavor to avoid. Even this above mentioned instance I might usually call Teh Dramaz but this escalated beyond that into actual bullying which is why it has my attention. So to call out this abysmal behavior is that thing where in order to rebuke, one sticks out one's neck and we all know that in this world that can lead to it getting chopped off.

Isn't that sad? Doing the right thing, speaking out about an injustice can basically get a person lined up for some pretty crap consequences, and so this is why people stay quiet? Clam up? Remember though, I mentioned earlier about writers and temperaments? As a group, a lot of us can ill- afford to stand up for ourselves at all. Even an ordinary person thinks twice about rocking the boat. So what about when one self-describes as mentally ill? When one is actively under treatment for depression and anxiety and perhaps more difficult things yet? Well hello there! Lining up to potentially be in the sights of a person capable of doing what was done to my friend is quite literally asking to have life brought to a halt. If that shitbomb were levelled at me, I might be pondering a whole lot of evil to find out where this guy lives and do something special five years later, but would I try to do anything at all online? Would I try to stand up for myself, and risk even more of this crap coming at me? Or worse, risk it escalating, because if someone can do this, how far are they capable of going? I wouldn't, because of everything I just wrote above. I'd roll over and take it. I'd let them get away with it. Because in this day and age, one has to consider all the scenarios, and I personally would not be able to navigate the added stress. I'd desperately need this to all just go away, and so the bad egg wins.

Except he does not, and here is why. I truly believe that Karma sees all things, She is a right bitch, and she in fact knows where everyone lives. It's seriously the universe. What goes around comes around. How one treats people, whether a person does good or ill; it finds its way back time and again. So yes there is anger, and the terrible sense of violation and feeling helpless in the short term. But eventually....well. I mentioned a third person who bullied me, earlier. There was a night I was so, so angry, I literally went outside and screamed at the moon for something to happen to him, because he was a horrible person. Now that man is living in a ramshackle RV, a drug addict, his family won't speak to him, he lost the respect of every friend he ever had and I never did a thing.

**********

Comments:

spicedwinefanfic

Jul 6, 2020

You have reached 5 million words! That’s astonishing and many congratulations 🥳 Reply 2likes

spicedwinefanfic

Edited Jul 6, 2020

Oh, and I’ve been in the fandom (as in posting fanfic) since 2007 and in that time yes, you meet a few strange people that you choose not to interact with, or people you simply don’t mesh with and avoid, but I still talk to people now that I met in those early years. Unlike *him*, I don’t need to move from community to community, changing names and shouting ‘Victim!!’ Because I’m really not that bad. I’m not a Narcisstic Predator, which he is, or a bully, which he also is, and I don’t think I’m above everyone else, that everyone else is wrong and I’m right. Which he does.

He would very much like me to be as he describes me, I’m sure, so again he can shout: ‘Victim!’ He stamped about because he apparently heard at second hand that I didn’t want him writing my characters. A lie. I certainly didn’t want him to and I made it plain his version of them was nothing to do with my ‘verse, and that I didn’t like it. However I never told him to stop. I believed he would simply get bored and fizzle out and hoped he would take the large hint that I would prefer it if he didn’t write them. There was no more reason in fact, for them to be in his fics (except that he wanted to ‘play’ with them more, write more bad porn and write a seven-some orgy, but for storytelling purposes, there was no need for them to be there. I thought I couldn’t actually prevent him from writing them and was not in contact with him so I thought, just let him get bored. Please!

I could have gone his vindictive route. I could have posted all the links I have about his previous damaging behaviour, with screenshots, showed all his various names, shown people who had had their reputations trashed by him over the last 15 or more years.

However, I didn’t. A big part of me thinks he simply isn’t worth it. And he is such a massive energy vampire that having nothing to do with him and his dirty, sticky hands-all-over-my-characters ideas-thievery is the best thing for me. Reply 2likes

AnnEllspethRaven

Jul 6, 2020

Makes popcorn and sits down to read

spicedwinefanfic

Edited Jul 6, 2020

Okay, this was a letter I wrote to someone I respect before he wrote his diatribe.

so you can see that he did want an excuse to vilify me.

I’ll keep the person’s name out of it, but she is highly respected in the Silm fandom.

____

Early in ‘19, someone ( I’ll call him Seb for a reason — this is not his fanfic pseudonyn, but it is one he has used) added me to their access list on DW. I had no idea who he was, but it transpired that they were in an online relationship with someone I knew and who sometimes podfics my fic. So I added him back. 

Although, oddly enough it transpired I had heard of him, although not by that name, a few years before. 

A little later Seb announced he would be offering his work for FandomTrumpsHate, which was laudable, and so I bid on him. It became clear from what Seb said that they wanted to (had already been) writing my OC Vanimórë in a Star Wars fic and so I said well, if you want to write him, write him for FTH, in anything. Apparently they’d read my work, introduced to it by their partner.

I thought it would be a short fic, and wasn’t bothered really, what he wrote, as it was for charity. I was interested, as who does not like someone writing their OC’s? A few people have written mine and I’ve been delighted. But, well, my stories are quite long, and I tend to think if a reader has read them they’ll also understand them and the characters. I didn’t comprehend that to Seb, characters he deems ‘hot’ are there for sex. They’re meat. And they’re his. (He is, by the way, 40, not a fandom baby). 

At the same time, a friend of mine in the Tolkien fandom was also added to this person’s access list and — a little later — we opened a Discord, when it became ever clearer that this person wished to use all our OC’ s in their fic. We had, prior to to this, decided to write a ‘crossover of both our ‘verses and Seb wanted to be a part of it. And how! 

First we received the: I never give many people access because of bad experiences but you two are wonderful, which was a bit of a warning sign to me.  

And then it got more and more bizarre. 

Seb was trying to get me to bring my verse into line with his and add his characters to them; he wanted his characters to be in anything we wrote, as well as his own AU series. He got really, really upset if they were not in the stories and said that his own OC’s were incredibly upset and impossible to live with if they were not in all the stories. Oh, the drama, the pain. 

 He tried to steamroller — and I was just relieved at that point that I’d finished my main series last year. I didn’t say much, due to the fact I thought I might come across as ‘precious’. I didn’t like to make a fuss. 

He took over any ideas we had and incorporated them into his fic as if they were his. Many of mine are very ‘in ‘verse’ specific, not canon, and don’t make sense without knowledge of my stories. All he ever talked about was his main OC having sex with ours, (His tag line was ‘When do they fuck?) and then he began to drop his guard a bit and say that he was in fact his character, and also an Elf (Fëanor) reborn as a mortal. 

I thought, oh not not again! Because this happened to me in 06-7 just when I was writing and posting my first story, and that person did get the better of me in that she insisted on writing within some of the fics and changing the storyline, resulting in my having to edit her part out when she left in a strop. (I was glad to, it was the same thing, every male in the story apparently loved and wanted her OFC) 

Anyhow, she said she was Legolas’ wife, (reborn as a mortal) not Fëanor, but the same basic claim going on. (I honestly don’t care if people want to call themselves a god, a reborn Elf etc, as long as they don’t deceive or hurt vulnerable people or screw them for money). 

Something was niggling at the back of my head at this point, that I had heard of someone in the pagan community doing this kind of thing: data mining for ideas, stealing (in that community) people’s spiritual experiences and saying they were their own. I am not a pagan as such, but do read pagan Wordpress blogs and have for some years. Seb had been a pagan, or something like it, I gathered. 

I couldn’t quite put my finger on what niggled, and I had no energy. My mother was in worsening health all last year and I was already in grief about her dying; I just didn’t have the wherewithal to fight or wonder all that much. 

Seb soon proved to be impossible to deal with. If you said something like ‘I don’t think that would work because...’ He would throw a huge fit and storm off, leaving the server and then rant on his Dreamwidth about people being mean to him. He would constantly demand to know why his OC was not in a story, or how mine could be in one world when they were supposed to be in his (I have no idea, mate, you wrote them into your fic and it’s an AU, anyhow). 

In the end, he simply left the server in a tantrum, but we remained briefly in touch on DW. He said he avoided Discord because it was too ‘immediate’. (Couldn’t control it, I think).

When my mum died in Feb, I had already decided to cut ties with Seb, but I was still wondering why I was so sure that he’d done this kind of thing before. So I emailed two people I knew in the pagan community and asked if they knew him, or rather someone who acted like him. 

Oh they did, although not under the pseudonym he uses for fanfic. One of them said: ‘What did Seb do now?’ (I thought who the hell is Seb, that’s not how I know him?) And the other linked me to something that pretty much blew my mind. 

(It is worth noting at this point that Seb was in the Star Wars fandom immediately before Tolkien, last year, and left because they tried the same trick with some people there, as they did with me and my friend). 

Bear in mind, this deals with people who believe in demons, spirits, etc (well, I do in a vague way but the meat of the matter is the behaviour of this person) 

And this was where I realised I had heard of Seb (or rather what he called himself on Tumblr: Nornoriel Lokason) I read this post at the time! I still cannot quite believe that I came across him via a different venue and ended up knowing him! 

I have also screenshot a couple of other people regarding him. He has gone through many, many names. 

So Seb, also known a few years ago in the pagan community as Nornoriel Lokason, (and many other names) is a long-time predator of vulnerable people apparently. He cuts people out of the herd by making them feel ‘special’ then bullies, gaslights, controls and plays the victim card for all he’s worth. He has reinvented himself many times.

This was more important in the pagan community, obviously, as it involved peoples’ spiritual beliefs and those communities do tend to have a lot of vulnerable people. In fandom...well, the first people (as far as I know,) he’s tried this on with in the Tolkien fandom was myself and my friend — who aren’t vulnerable, but apparently had something he wanted. (He called us both ‘Senpai’ — ‘Senpai has noticed me!’) 

On a post about Narcissistic Predators that was inspired by Seb/Nornoriel Lokason someone said that: 

In some cases the NP (Narcissistic Predator) may actually leave the community when called out. Or they may stick around and construct several false identities to sockpuppet and manufacture the illusion of support for their cause. (In a non-pagan community I once watched an NP use at least four separate author identities at once to congratulate himself on his accomplishments in forum threads and give his own stories high ratings and good reviews, and he was only proven as a sockpuppeteer when he accidentally answered an email for one identity as the persona of another.)

Seb has sock puppet accounts on his DW to reply to him, that he answers (like a kind of role play I suppose) and also, I am very sure, on his AO3 account to leave him shining comments.

He used sock puppet accounts when he was in the pagan community apparently. That doesn’t really matter, only in that it shows that this is what he does, wherever he is, whatever community he’s part of. 

His DW, when not filled with references to his characters banging, talking to him, etc was all about how abused he was, how much PTSD he suffered, how disabled he was, in how much pain. I sent him adding up to about $180 via his Ko-fi so he could buy marijuana as he said it eased his pain, and it was legal where he was. He is used, it seems, to people sending him money. 

 He was moving, also, as his relationship with his mother was toxic. Some of the money I sent him was to help with the move. I don’t care about the money, but it seems I fell into the same trap as a lot of other people. I was sorry for him. 

What he did to me (and my friend) was basically this (from the post about Narcissistic Predators)

* Love-bombing, IE really intense relationships really fast, combined with “everyone else in my life has been terrible and abusive, but Not You!” I know many people who have had multiple previous toxic relationships/friendships and who are lovely. Equally I know of a few who have a repeating pattern of deciding everybody in their life is terrible for them, burning all their bridges, finding new friends/lovers and deciding they are perfect and the only good thing in their lives and their saviour. Rinse and repeat. People who see every last person in their life as either terrible or up on a pedestal are toxic and sooner or later, everyone up on the pedestal will end up being The Worst. 

Except, I’m not in the pagan community, save tangentially, and am not vulnerable and neither is my friend. I don’t need to be love-bombed, but for a while, I was quite caught up in the possibilities of the ‘multiverse’, and am still using some of the ideas. (My ideas).

I hoped that Seb’s full-on enthusiasm to the multiverse and his desire to utterly control it (and us) would burn out, but as he’s disabled and never goes out, he writes all the time and so far it has not. 

I don’t want to tell him to delete my characters from his fic; I think that would mean, but I do want to tell him not to use them any more, and at this point, he no longer actually needs them. When he told me he would be writing an idea I have not even developed yet,  I asked him not to (except as an AU) because I’ve not even got to it — and of course he wanted his OC to be in that too, but that was never going to happen. I never got an answer to that. 

He has asked (on a public DW) post that anyone he’s fallen out with not comment on his fics or via a mutual on DW and he moderates his AO3 comments.

Am I within my rights to ask him not to use my OC’s any longer? I have had to change my policy on people borrowing my OC’s due to him just treating them like masturbatory fantasies to service his OC (himself). His stories are two thirds bad porn, and I simply don’t want characters I’ve spent years writing and developing being reduced to ‘porn stars’. (Yes, I know orig fic authors have to put up with that,lol, but I don’t mind people writing my OC’s — I just don’t want him to!) 

The thing is, in all my years in online fandom I have known mostly Silm-fic writers who I would completely trust to write my characters; they wouldn't even have to ask really, I’d just wave and say, go ahead. (Which I did with Seb) They also write stories, not just porn with a thin plot and no character development. 

Then Seb came along, very complimentary about my OC’s. I didn’t know him prior, had never read anything he wrote and didn’t bother due to the fact what he was writing was for charity, which was the important bit. He knew a friend of mine so I thought that was okay (they split up a few weeks ago by the way!) He isn’t a Silm-fic writer. He just wants his porn. 

There’s something extremely off about Seb, and I thought that even before I knew about him, and is partly why I did some investigation.

He’s gross, in the truest sense of the word. He demands people respect his boundaries, but seems not to recognise other people have any. Any form of ‘No’ and he would just, as I say, go into a massive mood and slam out of the server than accuse people of being bullies.

The people he lived with said (in that link) he used to scream and throw things, and I can well believe it. Also he acts as if he owns you, all your ideas, stories and characters. It really was a very weird experience. Imagine someone did that with your verse, not only wanting to write stories within it but wanting you to write and act as if their own stories had always been within it, and including them — and ending up that they were acting, talking and thinking as if they in fact had written your ‘verse. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that as I’ve never come across anything like it. 

I did hope he had dropped writing my characters until recently one of them was mentioned in a current WIP of his, with the suggestion that he might be involved in a foursome, and my heart sank, as I really don’t want Seb to write him. He also has some kind of seven-some orgy planned with my OC’s in another fic. I just honestly don’t want him to put his sticky hands on them any longer 😭

I don’t want to sound horribly precious. Another fanfic author wrote her OFC having extremely explicit sex with one of my OC’s but she is a superb writer and in her hands there is elegance and some agency and beauty (and an actual story) What Seb wants to write is just dirty porn, over and over. My characters have agency beyond being used for someone’s sexual fantasies. And I know that is all they are because Seb heavily hinted out that he knew Van and shagged him on the ‘Astral’ and all sort of hur hur innuendoes which (I think) were supposed to ‘mark his territory’ as in ‘I have absolute freedom to write your characters and there’s nothing you can do about it as I KNOW them (better than you)’. And his constant comments that ‘Vanimórë is like a cat, he knows who he likes.’ (Him and not me apparently).

Whatever.

I absolutely do know that if I request he not write my OC’s any more, I will be a bully and he the victim — he thrives on that kind of drama. he will undoubtedly talk of it on AO3 comments and chapter notes; he will probably make a (public) DW post and have his sock puppets rage at me on both. I may lose readers and all good feeling in the fandom, I suppose. I am not well-known, my fic is definitely niche, and in general am quiet, so there is no reason for people not to believe him. He has readers who comment on his stories because they read mine, and I expect he will rant to them, as well. 

His aim (I believe, going by his past history and comments on Discord) is to be a BNF and have followers as he had in the pagan community; he seems to need followers, to control people.  He always made a great fuss about not getting many comments when he was such a good writer, and about never reading hardly any Silm fanfic as there was no ‘good sex’. I think he does not really know the Silmarillion at all, just googles it. His work is all set in modern times with Elves being reborn as human because that’s what ‘he’ is. It’s an interesting premise, but the continual porn and the same story (retold) gets old really fast. 

I don’t suppose anyone save me really cares about this, and I wish he would just go away, or just stop writing my characters. He ought to be aware that I don’t wish him to. I deleted the fics I had written for him every time he was ‘having a bad day’ (every day) I have excised all mention of his characters from my own fic, which frankly were just shoehorned in to stop him whining and causing scenes. 

But I am beginning to wonder if he actually wants me to say something so he can cause drama.

I stopped commenting on his fics, removed him from my DW circle and he never received a reply to my request for him not to write my ‘future fic’. I just got on with things and hoped he would fizzle out. I wanted to cut ties completely, and then he begins writing about my OC’s again. There’s no reason for him to reference or write them in this current WIP.

He was exhausting be around. He wanted adulation all the time. And he is the kind of person you cannot give enough attention to. A few hours later it’s the same thing: He’s having a bad day, tell him he’s a brilliant writer, etc, etc.  My strength was going into trying to keep my mum calm and bracing myself for her death. With that, Seb simply drained me. 

I doubt he would allow any comment that I write on his fic to go through — except to use it to say ‘Look, look, Spiced Wine’s a horrid bully. I’m poor and disabled and writing’s the only thing that keeps me going and she’s trying to take it away from me, etc, etc.’ 

People have read his fics because they read mine (I mentioned it and some readers went over to see) and he knows my OC’s are a draw for those readers but also hates it. (which is why I think he wants to own them, to try to make himself believe they are actually his)

If people comment that they miss seeing my OC’s, he rants about why don’t people like his — I don’t know, Maybe because his OC is him and he’s simply not a nice (or interesting) person? So I think unless he just gets bored and finds another ‘shiny’ he will keep writing them (or rather not writing them (one of my readers told him that she did not recognise Vanimórë at all) writing them shagging with his OC). 

So I’d be really grateful for some advice, XXXX

Should I just ignore everything and hope it burns out, or am I within my rights (as the creator of my OC’s) to ask him to not write them? As I say, where he has got to now, he does not need them, he just wants them for the porn. I’m not asking him to do a big rewrite, just not to write them into anything else. I don’t want to ‘out’ him.

Apparently in the pagan community, if people fell out with him he would threaten to ‘Fuck up their wyrd’ which I take to mean their entire lives, temporal and spiritual. He probably thinks he can, as well! That’s not why I don’t want to ‘out’ him, by the way, just that well...he’s not harming anyone, just aggravating me, so I think quietly is the way to go. 

Thank you for reading this ramble, sorry it was so long. I thought I was overreacting until I read Seb’s history and realised he was doing (or trying to do) in fandom what he had done to people in the pagan community. 

Take care Reply 1like

AnnEllspethRaven

Jul 6, 2020

Well, my thoughts settled. What you have described herein falls into the category of "gobsmacking bullshit" that I referenced in the body of the essay. The first thing that comes to mind is that anyone of a creative bent could have the time or interest to channel their efforts into this kind of communication or (let's sum it up) Teh Dramaz. This is why I don't watch TMZ, read entertainment magazines, or I guess go to parties. I just can't, it begins to feel otherworldly. Reading all this, I am just glad things settled for you however you were rid of the hassle. Going through the decline and passing of a parent...we've discussed this enough elsewhere and while our experiences were different they were profoundly devastating. It is indeed not something that leaves a person with extra energy to battle cosmic unicorns in the seventh dimension or whatever plane or planet is under discussion (gimme a multiverse, tell me what colour the sky is, beam me up!).

Regardless, I am grateful if this small corner of literary #WeToo gave a means to vent all around. I certainly feel better, and shall return to my projects. I am certain you will do the same! <3 Reply 1like

spicedwinefanfic

Edited Jul 7, 2020

There is so much more, which I won’t go into. Comments about this person, the damage he’s caused to people: dozing them, writing to government agencies about them, being the cause of people being physically attacked.

As I‘ve said, had I the energy at the time I would have put my foot down much earlier. (I began to have major doubts very early)

In one fic I wrote of a Mirror Fëanor created, pieces of which ended up scattered throughout the multiverse. And what was one thing he could think it would be used for? Vanimórë (after the destruction of the universe) using it to watch the main OC masturbating while using a dildo.

This incensed me. As did the comments of Vanimórë clearly being a perv. Of course it was a perverted thing to do, and Vanimórë never would. He has better things to do than watch some grotty little tit pleasuring himself 🙄 and never would anyhow; it’s just not the kind of thing he would do. It’s the author who was a perv, not my character. I was infuriated. It was clear then, and had been clear for a while, that the author didn’t know my characters in the slightest and was just using them for his own sexual gratification. Unlike him you read the last chapter of Magnificat IV; from the comments I received on AO3 and Faerie, the readers did absolutely comprehend how shattered Vanimórë was — he didn’t, because apparently Van’s so unfazed that all he can think of doing is being a voyeur.

If he wants to write what’s basically self-insert role play, fine; not with my characters, though. Reply 1like

AnnEllspethRaven

Jul 7, 2020

Wow. That is indeed incredibly out of character. I will not claim to be acquainted with how Van was used in all the other person's stories but I did read one out of curiosity just to see how Van 'was' and the depth of 'not-Van' characterization struck me quite a bit. I felt it was a Stepford-Van, the physical trappings of a Van but generally a vanilla wealthy mattress stallion and not recognizable as the intricate spirit forged out of thousands of years of trial and survival. The mirror-gate you describe would be a horrid misapplication of any creation of Fëanor; however sexually passionate your Fëanor may be, there is a difference between passion and insatiable, omni-directional lust. Makes me wonder if there is much comprehension there of the fëa Míriel bequeathed to her only-begotten, the burning brilliance meant for so much more than mere carnality; the mind that could not stop at even the Silmarilli but had to conceive of more, and more, and greater...far beyond what rests on the head of a dildo -_- so I can certainly understand your dismay and ire. It'd be so much easier if the person would simply stick to their own OCs. There is a subreddit r/Sindarin where one can get help with a nice elvish moniker, grammatically sound and everything. Alas. Reply 1like

spicedwinefanfic

Edited Jul 8, 2020

No there was no comprehension of who and what Fëanor was at all. I could never swallow the ‘is really Fëanor’, and never believed it. I’ve seen Fëanor written as mad, bad and dangerous to know, 😏 but never as someone who is only interested in who he can shag and who can shag him 🙄

An author has to make a reader believe in their story, but then his fics are not stories — they’re role-play. There’s no story at all, just the same thing over and over again. Fine, write it, but in the Silm fandom, no-one’s going to end up being hugely read by real Silm fans for something that is just role-play. Tumblr is the place to publish role play.

Silm-fic readers tend to also want to read about actual canon characters. Of course you and I both write OC’s, but we also write canon characters, too.

The bit you read was a mild OOC-ness for Vanimórë (even though he would never be with anyone like the OC in any universe anyhow)

I did wonder, very early on if the author was in fact trolling me, as Vanimórë was so OOC. As the first fic was for charity, I just shrugged and let it go.

At the end of the day, I think his lying, childish tantrum was supposed to get me ostracised from the Tolkien fandom, but although very few people know anything about it, I’m sure that those who have known me for many years would simply not believe his spite and falsehoods. He knows nothing about me at all, because everything is always about him. He wants certain things to be true and they simply are not. This is just his modus operandi; it’s how he acts. As someone said of him on a Tumblr comment, ‘same shit, different date on the calendar.‘ He acts like he writes, the same scenario over and over. Reply

AnnEllspethRaven

Jul 6, 2020

I have so many things to say about this...my thoughts need to settle a bit. I shall return...Reply 1like

spicedwinefanfic

Edited Jul 6, 2020

This was an amazing essay, and quite true.

Of course the person mentioned doesn’t want to engage in comments, as it might lead to revelations he most definitely doesn’t want to come to light: that he’s been engaging in this behaviour for at least 15 years in different communities and always leaves them (claiming bullying) and reinvents himself when people call out his BS. (There are so many links online about him I was utterly gobsmacked when I read it because his behaviour — taking into consideration the different venues — was exactly the same.

The onus is on him to correct his behaviour but he never has and never will, I think. He need ‘followers’ and he needs drama, and to feel himself above everyone else. (Hence claiming, even years ago, to actually be a god on the astral plane).

My mistake with him really, was to assume he‘d actually read my work and could write my OC’s, not just take them and mould them into sexual drones serving ’him’. A few people have written Vanimórë (going back years) and written him well, so I just assumed he would. I’m not *that* strict about it, but if you’ve written a character over 14 years, you expect there to be some resemblance. I don’t think that’s arbitrary.

He was just bitching and fuming because he planned to write some OOC rubbish that now he can’t. And that’s it. Reply 2likes

Note: there is one last comment that for whatever reason I cannot include in the post; if anyone is actually reading this please find the same entry at DeviantArt under the same username to finish reading; sorry for the inconvenience!

[sonechkaandthedynamos]

what language did you learn in school and can you actually speak it?

[fun-fact-generator-3000]

Rise of the TMNT Donatello Headcanons

(Based on things I or people I know have experienced.)

Long post ahead.

Donnie is a huge puzzle lover and every time he finds a new puzzle game to play, he rants/explains it to his brothers. (Leo tunes him out every time.)

On one such occasion, Donnie was ranting about the glorious creation of RegEx Crossword and Leo told him it seemed boring, so he's taken to writing Leo insults in RegEx shorthand.

When he was younger, Donnie would mess with his brothers by eating something that tasted disgusting and not reacting at all, then saying, "that was good," and giving his brothers the food to try.

Unfortunately for Leo, Donnie would usually go to his twin to infodump about a new topic, but it made Leo very good at gift-giving to Donnie.

Donnie is definitely touch-averted, but the kind where he will not tolerate touch from anyone at any time unless he initiates it. When he does initiate it, it is hard to get rid of him. (And in those cases it is rarely ever hugs, more like attacking Leo.)

Donnie frequently uses words like "hath," "doth," and "thou."

Donnie hates the phrase "me neither," and will get annoyed when his brothers say it. (It's NOR DO I or NOR HAVE I)

When Donnie is working in his lab, he gets very frustrated at any noise, even ambient noise, so when people walk into his lab during one of these moods, he will get very snippy with them.

When playing games like Headbanz or 20 Questions, Leo gets very annoyed because Donnie is way too specific. He will ask questions like "am I a vertebrate?" or argue semantics like whether ketchup is technically a fruit/fruit based. Eventually, this leads to both of them asking questions like, "in a nutrition label, would a fruit be one of the first three ingredients listed?"

Donnie is insanely curious and will constantly ask questions. Splinter used to lecture him about whatever topic he asked about when he was a child, but as he grew older he resorted to google or the library. (He is constantly bringing out his phone to google niche questions like, "the volume of a typical human body when fully liquefied including connective tissues.")

If he is into a task or project, he physically cannot sleep because his brain is thinking too much, and will stay up for hours without realizing it, but if he does not want to do something, it will take him literal days to do it, if at all.

He loves documentaries and video essays.

However, he also is a huge fan of any and all TV and movies. He has a list of movies he has heard people talk about that he wants to watch.

When watching sad movies, his brothers will periodically look over at him, trying to "catch" him crying because they cannot believe he does not cry during movies. Despite not crying though, Donnie gets extremely into movies and has to sit for a while afterward to process and then rant.

Donnie chews on things when he is preoccupied (especially because softshell turtles typically have a strong bite). This can be things like bottle caps, pens, and especially the hem of any shirt if he is wearing one. As such, all of his "human" clothes have holes in the collars.

Donatello is a very fast reader when he is interested in a topic, but if he is not interested, it is almost impossible to read because he just starts thinking about something else.

Similarly, he cannot read aloud because he reads too fast for his mouth to speak. This also causes him to frequently stutter or stumble when info dumping because his brain is going too fast to convey through spoken word.

He is extremely pretentious about grammar. For example, he constantly annoys Leo by pointing out any dangling participles.

Donnie is a very adept sarcasm user, but he frequently misses other people's sarcasm, especially Leo's.

He is a major perfectionist. When things go wrong or he is not immediately an expert at something, he gets very frustrated and snaps at those around him.

Donnie loves coffee, of course, but not to wake him up. He drinks coffee because it slows down his endless stream of ideas and plans enough for him to think. However, too much caffeine makes him sort of dazed or spacey.

Donnie is the type to be super organized and neat, but as soon as he starts a project, that goes out the window and his workspace becomes his own version of organized chaos.

Both he and Leo sign swears and insults at each other from across the room.

He loves cryptograms and fictional languages and will write messages in writing systems like Anglo-Saxon runes or alien languages (like from Jupiter Jim).

He LOVES drawing blueprints. He is decent artistic already (as shown by the chainsaw-made snow sculpture), but he really enjoys drawing blueprints with a straightedge and ruler and ends up hanging his favorites on the wall.

Donnie has a very high pain tolerance and would do things like poke needles through his epidermis to freak his brothers out.

He is a collector of junk. While most of it is sectioned off and organized, he also has bins of spare wires, screws, and tubes.

When he was young, he took apart everything. Nothing was ever safe. Radios, music boxes, flashlights, etc., all would be taken apart and strewn about to be studied.

Donnie is a proud Oxford Comma supporter!

He cannot use the same dish twice. If it is out of his sight for a minute, it is automatically contaminated. (Splinter hates this)

He loves nerdy science songs or science parodies of songs.

However, he also loves musical theatre and does mini performances of soundtracks.

He is constantly over-prepared. He keeps a first aid kit, flashlight, swiss army knife, pen, pencil, etc. in his battle shell at all times.

Because Donnie is much more flexible than his brothers due to his soft shell, he often sits in weirdly contorted positions that they cringe at.

When he was 5, Splinter wrote "good job" on a slip of paper and Donnie has kept it ever since.

He talks like an old man. For instance, he complains about "punk youths" and the state of the younger generations, despite being one of the said punk youths.

This is all for now. I always think of more, so I may make a second post of this with new ones I think of. Most of these are just from my own childhood.

[mirai-studies-languages]

How to practice reading in a foreign language

Hi! I’m learning French and Spanish, and I have found that reading tends to be my strongest skill. I thought that I would try providing some advice on how to practice reading in a foreign language.

Figure out what you should read! For an absolute beginner, stick to textbook exercises and content made for learners. Stay away from native material for now, since it will generally be quite unhelpful, and will just damage your confidence and motivation without actually improving your skills. For pre-intermediate learners, read articles and social media posts, since the language used in them are widely used, but not too complex. I remember that after 2 months of studying Spanish semi-regularly, I could make it through an article about language learning without really needing a dictionary to understand it. Articles like that are made to be accessible, so the language will be more simplistic.  For intermediate learners, now is a good time to hit the books! Language used in books is usually a lot more diverse and complex, so it will be challenging, but helpful. I recommend sticking to things that interest you, like translations of your favourite childhood books (I read a translation of Harry Potter in French and it was sublime). Upper intermediate learners will be more comfortable with YA books, while lower intermediate learners might prefer fanfiction and children’s books. Don’t go for something which has a bunch of jargon or old fashioned vocabulary like fantasy books or old classics. Go for something which will include vocabulary related to every day life and your interests, like romance or coming of age novels.  Alongside this, keep reading articles, social media posts and Wikipedia pages about whatever interests you! You can also read graphic novels, manga and webtoons as well, if you want, just as long as it sticks to the no jargon rule and actually challenges you. For advanced learners, this is the time for you to go for something really difficult, like the classics, advanced newspapers or academic journals and essays. Jargon doesn’t matter. In fact, jargon is good! At this point, you are trying to graduate from a fluent reader, to an educated reader. Maybe you could read textbooks up until high school level so that you could understand the average person’s level of vocabulary in certain fields, like science. Read Marx, read political theory, read whatever you want! This is the most intellectually stimulating stage of language learning, since it is the time that you can truly appreciate what you are reading. Also generally, across all levels, you can read the subtitles of videos, films or YouTube videos in French.

Figure out how you are going to read! There are two ways to practice reading: reading intensively and reading extensively.  Reading intensively means that you look up every word that you don’t understand (and maybe turn them into flashcards to learn later). I recommend writing all these new words down, and make sure to record it in its unconjugated form to learn it later, unless you want to learn that particular irregular verb or past participle.  Reading extensively means reading a lot without looking up words. I do NOT recommend beginner/lower intermediate learners to do this, as it is only useful if you can understand at least 70% of it. I am able to do this with French, but not with Spanish, since it is only useful if you are at the stage where you can understand most of what is being written. I think this is better for upper intermediate/advanced learners.

Know your literary tenses! If you don’t understand literary tenses, then you will need to learn it. You can do this using a textbook, or an article, or a YouTube video. Make sure whatever you use has practice texts for you to get used to seeing the tenses with. Also, make sure that you know some of the most common irregular verbs too, since these will come up a lot.

Read the article/chapter/post once without looking up vocab at first! Try and see how much you can understand, and write down all the words that you do not understand, even if it is a lot. Take it slowly at first, and just try and work through a couple of pages. Then, translate the vocabulary, and try to learn the most important words. Then, reread what you were reading again. This method works very well for me, so I hope it works for you too!

Read out loud! This helps your pronunciation AND your speed. Make sure you have audio to compare your pronunciation with. I had tajweed lessons for Arabic since I was a child, and all that practice has given me native like pronunciation and a very good accent. This is helpful, trust me!

Read and listen at the same time! Subtitles of videos/films/shows and audiobooks are the best for this. After about 10 minutes of listening, replay what you were listening too and make sure you can catch every word. This improves your listening AND reading skills.

Reread! I promise that after a while, your reading skills WILL improve the more you do it and the more you expand your vocabulary. I’m about a third of the way through my first YA French book, and I can already understand so much more than before. After you have learnt the new vocabulary in whatever you are reading, then reread it. This time, you won’t be stuck on what you don’t know, and will be able to enjoy the contents much more.

Thanks for reading this post! I hope it was useful for you!