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struwwelzeter · 4 years

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Sonne Making of Liveblog

Before I liked Rammstein I somehow always blended the Rosenrot and the Sonne Video into one thing, I don’t know why, I know it makes no sense, but I still have thise weird memory of that Rosenrot/Sonne mashup in my head, like there is another Rammstein video out there that I can’t watch anymore and it’s a little upsetting.

“Dit hat gar nich gepasst und dit fandn wer dann ganz gut”

- Paul “Abosulte Chaos” Landers at his best, I mean don’t you just love him.

The way Till negates Americas influence on the album with that heartbreaker smile before she even stops talking and Flakes “I hope not” melt my heart. Flake, you hammer and sickle swinging commie, I love you so much.

Schneider is a full on bastard in this and I don’t know how I feel about that.

You know they are all like “the Mutter drama never happened” in this and it’s very questionable, but with Flake I genuinly can’t tell if he’s just bullshitting or of he just kinda checked out and went intentionally oblivious.

Olli talking is nice and he actually stutters a bit?! Very cute.

@theelliottsmiths Till does indeed say Glück auf. If I’m not totally mistaken that’s an old traditional miners greating. I’m not from a mining area and noone here says that but I think so?

Richard is very awkward in this entire segment and I don’t know why, idk but he doesn’t seem like himself? That sing-songing speaking he does there is weird.

I really think alot about how they’re quite a bit older than the average music success story, and how it must play such a role in them making all of this work? The calm Schneider has there, like no, we can’t stress about this is such a 30+ thing, I’m serious, and being young is so overrated.

Oh interesting, they did 16 fps for this. It’s like the opposite of that things where you speed up the sound and then slow down the picture to make it look smooth, and that makes so much sense for dwarfish miner scenes? Now I must watch the video again.

Oh wow. I haven’t watched this for some time and god, it’s baby Joern, I love him!!!

Ok, so I have a massive pet peeve with this video and it’s this: Snow White’s dress. So they put all that effort into the set design, make the dwarves miners which is perfect, Joern is all obsessed with Lord of the Rings level details (it was that time when that movie wrote new standards for historic and fantastic movies), and they just put her ... in that?! It looks like a cheap thing you can buy for carneval and is too Disney and. You have an entire world of beautiful traditional livery to draw upon and you put her in that? What about the snow white drawings by Arthur Rakham for exemple?! There’s just so much better things to draw from than that horrible disney version.

Speaking of Lord of the Rings, the most frequent sentence (probably) used by Tolkien scholars is “suspension of disbelief” which means that the world building is done in a way that is believable because it’s so consistent. Think the Witcher saying Fuck and you wondering if they said that in medieval times (they did, but I digress). You don’t want those moments. You want to stay in the story, and the way the Snow White costume just lacks in quality and detail compared to the dwarves is just. Very bad. Sorry, baby Joern. I still love you.

It’s astonishing to me how Paul just spends several decades laughing about jokes about his size. They still do it, like in Radio. You are a better man than me Paul, because I got tired of those 15 years ago.

They’re all intoxicated or? I can’t forget the story about how they slept there, went to the airport afterwards to fly to ... was it Australia?! and ruined the plane seats with the remaining soot make up. Nasty Punks, all of them, can I marry them please.

I have no comment on the Flake bit. Sorry.

Ok, so is the rumor that the boxer was one of the Klitschkos valid or was that just a rumor because it’s the only boxers germans know?!

Till is so adorable in this, it’s unreal.

Paul and numbers is worth an entire RANT, it makes him such an unreliable narrator.

I agree that it’s the perfect story for the song, which makes me even sadder they went for the disney version looks wise. It’s just. Blasphemy.

It’s such an interesting reading of that entire story, I need to ask my mum about other interpretations, or how that is usually interpreted (she’s a fairytale nerd).

Paul 🙄 I roll my eyes at him, because the way he is here just. It’s just what he’s like but he can honestly drive peace and wuiet loving people up the wall, can’t he.

Paul, you know why you are getting spanked and that innocent act is not going to save you my darling.

Safety concerned Till is so, so, so lovable I just want to hug him and tell him to go back to his kleptomania, it’s all gonna work out love.

Joern has watched the LOTR making of as many times as I have, I can just tell.

Another Jackson movie thing: They used to let Barrie Osborne, the LOTR producer from New Line Cinema’s side play with a camera and asked him to shoot some scenes and the making of so he wouldn’t get in the way of the new zealanders, and occupying Paul with the making of team reminds me of that, good strategy.

“Werkzeugausgabe Lindemann” - something tells me that’s the story of his life.

Ugh. I admire Joerns patience. It does not have to be logical, the mood just has to be right, damn it let the man do his job.

Him saying “Rasselbande” is the most apt and perfect description of this band ever. Rasselstein. Love it. You could losely translate that with something like “little rascal gang” - but it’s not really translatable other than with something you call a bunch of rowdy kids.

Ok so that Rich’s thing is songwriting isn’t news but I am surprised Till says he likes recording, I would have assumed it’s a high pressure situation for him, but then again, “he likes to work hard”, so.

Same about Olli. Introversion personified likes to stand infront of too many people, ok.

Or maybe it’s just the thing Flake describes, so he just got out if the studio and is sick of it, that makes a lot of sense actually.

God Richard in this segment is just. He breaks my heart, he cares so much about it.

I wonder if they were so positive at this point because they got through this album and thought they learned alot, but if I’m not totally mistaken there were still so much tension on the tour that followed that and it just. Makes me sad they didn’t see it coming, glad they’re still here ...

Look at them laughing their asses off!!

Oh no, a Paul metaphor. It’s a thing right, they’re simultaneously really bad and very genius.

God Richard. 🥺 please don’t be that way?Same, ok. Big, fat same.

20 years, damn. And they’re still here.

Ende gut, alles gut. (He’s so cute.)

youtube

#struwwel liveblogs #rasselbande #Youtube

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everythingirl44 · 4 years

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What about 19 + 47 + 75 (for Staticquake) for the tropes mashup game!

19 = Summer Camp AU, 47 = Not a Date, 75 = Bed Sharing

Great minds think alike because I almost submitted this prompt minus the Not a Date. When I think of summer camp I imagine the counselors and kids in the woods with the cabins. My interpretation is probably a bit off, but I did my best. I now realize that this is LONG, but I needed to get the details before I could add the requests. I hope you like it, Lily!

Daisy woke up bright and early with a smile on her face. Today was the first day where she would be a counselor at her parents summer camp. Coulson and May started the Shield Summer Camp before they adopted Daisy. Every summer she would go there with them spending her time with the older kids. The camp accepted ages seven through thirteen for seven weeks of fun. Daisy decided to spend the summer before college working at the camp. She was dragging along her two best friends Jemma and Fitz. Daisy could hear her dad yelling from downstairs that they needed to leave. She really should have packed last night. This time it was her mom yelling for her to hurry up. She started frantically throwing clothes into her duffle bag. She ran down the stairs to see Jemma and Fitz waiting.

“Finally! Though we were never going to leave.” Jemma said once, seeing Daisy at the stairs. The three of them loaded up the car waiting for Coulson and May. They made sure the house was locked before taking off. Abandoning the city and heading for the woods. It was about a four, five-hour drive so they would arrive before noon. The staff came in yesterday to start setting up before the kids arrived tomorrow. Daisy had her headphones in the entire ride. Sitting in the backseat listening to Jemman and Fitz argue about science wasn’t what she was looking forward to.

“Okay kids, listen up!” Coulson yelled, grabbing their attention. Daisy started to argue that they weren’t kids anymore. That argument stopped once she saw the sign, indicating they were approaching the camp. They drove past the cabins and cafeteria to the staff cabins.

“How exciting! Aren’t you excited Fitz? We get to help lead the science program this year.” Jemma said, pulling her bag out of the trunk.

“Yes, yes very exciting.” He mumbled trying to pull his bag out. May pushed him aside, unloading the bag on top before tossing him on the floor.

“You three have ten minuted to get your stuff in the cabin. Then head over to the cafeteria so we can hand out the rest of the assignments.” May said as she and Coulson got back into the car. They had to drive to their cabin to park the car. Not wanting the three teens to take it out on a joy ride.

“Jemma you’re bunking with me, Elena, and Bobbi, she already grabbed a cabin. Fitz, Hunter, and Mack are in cabin twelve! See you at the cafeteria!” Daisy said hooking her arm around Jemma’s and dragging her away. The two ran to their cabin while Fitz had to walk down the road. Daisy opened the door, quickly claiming a bed before Jemma. Bobbi and Elena already unpacked since they came in yesterday. They exchanged hellos and started walking towards the cafeteria. They talked about Daisy and Jemma attending college. Elena was one year older than them. Bobbi was two years older than the two. Jemma was probably more excited than Daisy. Jemma and Fitz were going to the same school for technology and medicine. Daisy was staying local and going to the state college for computer science. The girls arrived before Mack, Hunter, and Fitz.

“I wonder who else got stuck with them.” Bobbi said leaning against one of the tables. Daisy started laughing, knowing Fitz and Hunter could get into some trouble. Jemma pointed out that they were walking over. They tried peeking to see who the other counselor was. Elena and Mack were already there, along with the rest of the staff.

“Daisy, didn’t your parents say who else was working?” Jemma asked, turning back to her. She shook her head and watched the door carefully.

“You can’t be serious.” She said under her breath seeing the infamous Lincoln Campbell walk through the doors. Daisy’s known Lincoln since they were kids. She didn’t exactly hate him, she despised him. With her luck, she had almost every class with him since elementary school.

“Okay, now that everyone is here. Let’s hand out some assignments! Fitz and Mack, you two are doing the engineering. Jemma and Lincoln volunteered to show the kids some science. Bobbi, May, and Hunter are doing the sports and physical activities. Elena, Daisy arts and crafts, but Daisy don’t forget you have a small group interested in computers.” Coulson continued to remind everyone of their assignments. Going through the schedule for room checks and night patrols. When Daisy was younger they would sneak out and start prank wars with other cabins. Kids still did it which is why they had to enforce the night schedule more.

“Daisy and Lincoln, you two have the first week of night checks.” Coulson quickly said before moving on. Daisy was in absolute shock that her dad put them together. She could hear Jemma and Bobbi laughing, knowing fully well that Lincoln and Daisy did NOT like each other. Coulson dismissed the group and told them to finish setting everything up for tomorrow.

“It will be okay Daisy. It’s just seven nights, checking the rooms and staying out two hours after curfew with Lincoln.” Bobbi said patting Daisy on the back. She walked over to May and Hunter, probably heading off to set up the archery targets. Jemma gave her a small speech that they were adults now and should put what happened when they were kids aside. Lincoln and Fitz walked over, Daisy wanted to slap that smile right off of Lincoln’s face.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow night? It’s a date?” Lincoln said teasingly, giving her that annoying smirk. Jemma quickly grabbed Fitz and left the building, not wanting to stick around.

“It’s not a date Lincoln, we have to do this.” God, he was already annoying her. You’d think after twelve years he’d take a hint.

“Sounds like a date!” He shouted as he turned to walk away. Daisy was so heated she couldn’t think of a witty comeback. Racking her brain for something to say before he was out of earshot.

“It’s not!” That was the best she could come up with. Letting out an aggravated sigh she made her way to help Elena. Which is what she should have been doing. Daisy's sour mood continued as she and Elena were cleaning up the crafts room. While Elena was counting the supplies Daisy was sweeping the floor. She may or may not have spilled glitter on it. There was a knock on the wall that drew both of their attention. Mack asked if he could steal Elena for a bit. Daisy didn't really care, she could finish inventory. She watched as they ran off, Fitz and Jemma were also with them. Part of Daisy was jealous that all her friends had stable relationships. Her past two didn’t end well. Breaking her own thoughts she went to finish taking inventory. Be real the glitter was not going to get off the floor.

Now it was later in the day, everyone was in the cafeteria eating dinner. Their source of amusement was Fitz and Jemma arguing over what they were going to teach the kids. Every one and a while Lincoln would enter the conversation, applying this knowledge on the subject. Daisy started talking with Lincoln's little sister who was attending the camp. Even though Daisy had a bad relationship with Lincoln, she enjoyed talking to his sister. Turns out Amanda had an interest in computers, which Daisy was very excited about. Halfway through their conversation, Daisy felt a kick against her shin. Looking across the table she knew it came from Lincoln. Two could play at that game. Continuing her conversation, Daisy proceeds to kick him back. One turned into two, then became a full out game of footies. This time when she went in for the attack, Lincoln moved his leg causing her to slam her knee into the table. Everyone turned to the two at the end on the table. Lincoln was trying to stifle a laugh, this caused Daisy to start laughing. This only made the rest of the group concerned. Daisy and Lincoln getting along? Not possible.

The next day went smoothly for everyone. Not much happened on the first day of camp. They were assigned bunks and then wandered around the camp, getting the lay of the land. Daisy was transporting a box filled with parts for Fitz and Mack’s class. She walked past the lake seeing some of the kids swimming back to the shore. She balanced the box in one hand, taking her phone out to look at the time. Daisy let out a groan, she had to do night duty with Lincoln.

“Fitz, what is in this box?” Once Daisy got to the cabin she was quick to put that heavy box down. Fitz started looking through it, making sure everything was there and not broken.

“Some supplies, we are having the kids build robots. So, night duty with Lincoln?” All she could do was glare at him. The last thing she wanted to do or talk about was having to spend two hours with Lincoln for the next week.

“Please Fitz don’t remind me. I can’t stand him, for instance, this morning he switched the salt and sugar. I ended up putting salt in my coffee.” Daisy thought they finally outgrew the prank wars. They would start harmless until they started accidentally pulling others in. One time Lincoln set up a water bucket over the girls’ cabin with the intention of getting Daisy. Instead, Bobbi was the one out the door first and ended up with a cold morning shower. Coulson and may once had to pull them aside, that was the most awkward conversation. Looking at the clock she had to meet Lincoln in the courtyard to start the first rounds. Curfew was at nine because the sun had gone down.

“Finally, you’re twenty minutes late.” Daisy wasn’t surprised at Lincoln's comment on her being late. Besides she made sure he knew she was only three minutes late. Daisy just wanted to get this over with. There were forty-two cabins, each with five or six kids. They had to spend the next two hours checking each cabin and walking around making sure kids weren’t sneaking out. They started with the seven-year-old cabin. Daisy would poke her head into the girls’ cabins telling them lights out if they weren’t already. Lincoln would go into the boys’ cabins doing the same thing. The next set of cabins they went to Daisy turned around to see Lincoln was gone. The light in the boys cabin was out so maybe he went ahead? She started walking to the next set of cabins. While walking she heard a creaking sound coming from the trees. Turning her flashlight to the trees she fully expected to see a kid sneaking out. Nothing was there and she chalked it up to a bird or small animal. She turned back to the trail, but before she could take a step forward a figure popped out of the bushes. Daisy let out a short scream before a hand was clapped over her mouth. She shoved Lincoln off of her flashing the light in his eyes.

“Are you crazy! You scared the shit out of me!” She screamed in a hushed voice. He was hunched over laughing at her frightened state. Rolling her eyes she started for the next set of cabins with him hot on her trails. He kept saying how he didn’t think she would get scared. He was preaching to the choir, Daisy could care less. Halfway through the checks, Daisy was regretting not bringing a jacket.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re shaking, if this is because I scared you I really didn’t mean any harm.” Lincoln seemed genuinely concerned and that was something Daisy had never gotten. They had the same friend group and saw each other every day at school, but they didn’t participate in friendly conversation. Daisy was a little take back by this, quickly brushing it off. She said she was fine and they kept walking. The later it got, the colder it was supposed to be summer for God sake! She wasn’t paying attention and tripped over her own feet. Lincoln grabbed her arm before she could hit the ground.

“Daisy you’re freezing!” Once she was upright he quickly pulled his hand away from her. Insisting she was fine, they continued walking. He couldn’t help but notice how she was still shaking. Protesting again on how she was obviously cold, she snapped back at him that she was, again, FINE.

“You say you’re fine, but you’re obviously cold!”

“Why are we even having this conversation? Why do you care?”

“You know what? I don’t! Go fucking freeze then, I don’t care!” Lincoln threw his arms up in defeat, stomping away from Daisy and to the next cabin. She shivered her way to her cabin seeing the light was off. She used her flash to glance into the window seeing the girls asleep. She was determined to go ahead of Lincoln so she could avoid talking to him. Daisy could hear his footsteps running up behind her. What she wasn’t prepared for was the feeling of a heavy and very, very warm jacket being placed on her shoulders. Immediately she wrapped the jacket further around herself, taking in the warmth. She looked over at Lincoln to see he had given her his jacket. Lincoln had no intention of arguing over the jacket. Daisy wasn’t going to say anything about it either. He still had a long sleeve shirt, while she had a tee-shirt on. Just seven more cabins then Daisy could go back to her warm bed.

The next day Daisy and Elena were cleaning up the mess the kids left in the crafts room. Daisy slept in missing breakfast, so she was very excited for lunch. The two made their way to the cafeteria, seeing Jemma and Hunter walking over as well. The pairs met up and started chatting about the first official day of camp.

“Daisy? Where did you get that jacket?” Hunter was the one to change the subject, eyeing the jacket. Trying to keep her composure, now remembering that is was Lincolns jacket. She never gave it back to him the night before and she wasn’t going to admit she kinda loved the jacket. They parted ways once it was eleven, both tired and annoyed with the other.

“Just a jacket from Goodwill.” Was her response, which wasn’t good enough for Hunter. He continued to provide, hinting that he definitely knew who was the owner of the jacket. Bobbis perfect time saved Daisy from the interrogation. The cafeteria was loud and crowded with the kids. During the conversations at the Lincoln asked if anyone wanted to go with him and some of the older kids onto the lake. Several no’s could be heard in the group. Each had an explanation as to why, but he had to point out Daisy’s.

“I’m teaching a computer class after lunch.” Was her answer to why she wasn’t going to the lake. Lincoln only rolled his eyes, there were nine kids in the class, which was small. Daisy caught the eye roll, which started another squabble between them. Ending with both of them leaving the table angry with the other. One the way out she made sure to throw the jacket straight at his head.

This time she brought her own jacket, it wasn’t as nice as his, but she was not going to admit that. They went through the cabins a lot quicker than last time. While they wanted to go back to their cabins, they had to stay until eleven. Once Daisy did get back to the cabin she saw Jemma, Bobbi and Elena were still up. They didn’t even ask about it, but Daisy spent almost two hours ranting about Lincoln.

The following morning the boy and girls, minus Daisy and Lincoln, met up. They knew the two were probably going to sleep in again. It was the perfect time to hatch a plan.

“I’m tired of hearing about Daisy at one in the morning. Although I did like knowing I was right about her having his jacket.” The minute Hunter said, everyone knew what had to go down. No matter what, Daisy and Lincoln HAD to become friends, or more, by the end of the week. For the sole purpose of they couldn’t hear them complain about the other anymore. Jemma would ask Daisy to drop things off at the cabin she worked in. Fitz would ask Lincoln to see if Jemma was there on his way to the lake. They tried locking them in the room, but Daisy had a master key. That’s how they dragged Amanda into the plan. They were shocked when she was all for it.

That night Amanda snuck out of her cabin. Daisy and Lincoln caught her quick and dragged her back to her cabin. She could see Lincoln was disappointed, but it would be worth it if this worked. During her apology she started to cry, causing Daisy to give her a hug. That was her opportunity to get Daisy’s keys. Jemma and Fitz convinced the two that it would get hot tonight for some scientific reason that Daisy and Lincoln didn’t understand. Now they were both cold and wandering around in the dark. Mack changed the batteries in the flashlights, they died quickly. Hunter and Bobbi knew there was a counselor cabin close to the kids’ cabins that wasn’t used unless kids were sick. They knew the heater worked and there was a bed inside. Hunter turned on the power and Bobbi had Elena stand in the cabin until the two noticed. She was quick to get out of there without them noticing. They walked in confused, the power was on and Lincoln swore he saw someone in there.

“Maybe it got left on by accident, it stores medical supplies. Someone probably scrapped their knee or something.” Daisy walked back over to the door only to find it wouldn’t open.

“Lincoln, the door is stuck.” She said trying to push the door open.

“What do you mean the door is stuck?” He asked walking over and trying to get the door open. What does he think she meant? Luckily she had her keys with her. Reaching in her pocket she realized there were no keys.

“I must have dropped them or something.” She said, both of them coming to the conclusion that they were stuck in the cabin.

“At least the heater is working.” He said sitting on the bed. The power going out was completely out of everyone hands. The group didn’t even know the power went out because once Daisy and Lincoln were locked in, they went to bed.

“Had to jinx us, didn’t you? It’s bad enough we’re stuck here, but did I have to be stuck here with you?” Daisy sat down on the other side of the bed, back facing him.

“Okay, camp princess at least I didn’t lose my keys.” Daisy turned around ready with a comeback. Why was he laying down? The question of what are you doing left her mouth. Getting comfortable, they were probably going to be locked in there till morning.

“Could you get up, I want to be warm under the covers.” He said pulling on the blanket. Daisy wanted to protest, but the little heat that was in the room was fading. Lincoln and Daisy were tucked under the covers. There was an unspoken agreement to stay on their side and don’t hog the blanket.

“Why are you breathing so hard?” Lincoln turned his head over, glaring at Daisy’s comment.

“Why are you so annoying?” She sat up, dragging the blanket up with her.

“You are the most stuck up, aggravating, know it all, who has ever walked this Earth!” She shouted at him. He stared at her not moving or saying anything. Daisy got up forgetting that the door was locked and she couldn’t walk away from him.

“The past twelve years you have pushed my buttons. The pranks and the teasing it’s just so annoying! Yet, you have the audacity to say I’m annoying?” Lincoln has never, ever seen Daisy lose her shit. She was overall a very calm person.

“I didn’t- didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You always play it back. Didn’t think there was a problem and if there was why didn’t you say anything?” That was a good question. Why hadn’t she said anything? Was it because she genuinely enjoyed the fun banter between them. How even why they were angry, they were laughing at each other. She went back sitting on the bed, pulling over covers over her lap.

“I’m envious of you. You have your amazing sister and your parents. I love May and Coulson, but they’re not my birth parents. My birth parent didn’t want me and everyone I love will leave eventually.” Part of Daisy felt silly for saying that. She was deflecting her feelings because she still felt like everyone leaves her eventually.

“One, that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Your friends, May and Coulson, they’re never going to leave you. Two, I’m envious of you. You have it all figured out, the college you want to go to, what you’re going to do after. You even get this really cool summer camp.” He said making her laugh. That was the first real conversation they’ve had and it was long overdue. They ended up reminiscing stories of them not getting along.

“No, remember eighth-grade graduation. You tripped me when I was walking back to my seat.” How could Lincoln forget? She slapped him with her award.

“This ones better, we were in high school doing a lab project. We weren’t paying attention and mixed the wrong chemicals.”

“We had to stay and clean up the mess. That was horrible!” She finished for him. After moments of laughter, there was complete silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was nice. Like they were content in each others company.

“I think I know my favorite memory.” Daisy said rolling on her side to look at him. He faced her, raising an eyebrow. Giving her the silent question of which moment.

“This one because losing my keys and this cabin being on, was the best thing that could happen.” She said smiling and Lincoln couldn’t agree more.

“This whole situation made one this very clear.”

“That our rivalry was really us being horrible flirts?” Daisy was worried that ruined the moment, but Lincoln confirmed her sudden revelation. This entire time they really, really like each other. They just let the other get to them so easily that the rivalry out weight the flirting. They much of fallen asleep at some point because they were forced awake by the sun. It did get colder in the night and when the heat finally went away, they ended up cuddling for warmth. The only issue was they were still stuck in the cabin. There was a knock on the window that drew their attention away from the door. Amanda was standing there holding Daisy’s keys. She unlocked the door to show their friends standing there with wide smiles.

“You people are evil! Do you know how cold it got in there!” Daisy screeched at the group.

“You could have at least left the power on.” Lincoln said crossing his arms. Everyone looked at Hunter because he was the one that turned on that cabins circuit.

“She was wearing his sweater! You all really thought locking them in a room was going to make them friends? No, you have to take it one step further. Besides, was I the only one who realized they were flirting?”

#staticquake #tropes mashup #summer camp au #not a date #bed sharing

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apharine · 4 years

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The First Annual Staff Party of the Castle That Never Was

Chapter 1: Rumors and Wagers

Pairing: Reader/Organization XIII

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Rating: M

Read on AO3

Summary: [Reader-insert Seven Minutes in Heaven with Organization XIII] When you woke up, you were expecting a quiet day off from missions, shared with no-one but yourself. But your day off went terribly, almost predictably, wrong, and by that evening, you'd been roped into contributing towards a potluck dinner and playing some mashup of Seven Minutes in Heaven and Spin the Bottle with your Organization XIII colleagues. Kingdom Hearts help you.

Notes: Hey all! I’m the author Apharine over on AO3, but you can call me Kana here on Tumblr! My main blog on Tumblr is all serious stuff and I wanted a place where I can post my fanfics and fandom-related contributions and talk to people about KH, so I’m making this sideblog! I always follow back and will try to be regular in my updates, and might even take requests at some point, too!

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When you walked into the Grey Area after a late breakfast, the rumors were flying more quickly than an Air Soldier Heartless.

“Hey, you might be the last one to have heard,” Axel beamed at you as soon as you stepped in the common space, obviously overjoyed to share the news. With one lanky arm around your shoulders, the redhead navigated you into the center of an absolutely packed Grey Area. It seemed nobody was currently on a mission, which was extremely unusual – you thought you were the only one with today off. What was going on? The couches were jam-packed, and even the standing area around them was full, every Nobody unusually animated and talkative. “Luxord apparently finally got Xemnas to make a wager with him! It - ”

“The Superior would never do such a thing,” Saix’s deep voice interrupted Axel’s eager chatting as the blunette approached, clipboard in hand. “And according to my notes, Axel, you should currently be in Agrabah –”

“Nobody’s going anywhere today, Treasure-Face,” Xigbar drawled from where he sprawled on the couch next to Demyx, who was strumming his sitar and adding to the already clamorous background noise. “Go Berserk on them all if you want, but it’s a battle you’re still going to lose.”

“We have an Organization to run, Number Two,” Saix returned, but Xigbar had already turned around and was chatting with Larxene, who was leaning against the back of the couch.

“I heard Zexion say that they were betting on the outcome of Vexen’s current Replica project,” Demyx said to you conspiratorially. Beside you, Saix’s grip on his clipboard tightened just incrementally.

“They would not –“ Saix began, but was cut off by Marluxia, who had just traded spots with Xaldin on the opposite couch.

“I heard from a rather reliable source that they were betting on which of the recent worlds we’ve acquired would prove to be more strategic for us,” the botanist announced, leaning casually on the armrest of the couch.

“They’re all strategic, and producing many hearts,” Saix interrupted, trying desperately to reassert authority. “Marluxia, you’re supposed to-“

“I heard that they were betting on who could win the trivia night at that bar in Hollow Bastion,” Xigbar laughed, cutting Saix off yet again. You were certain that the Freeshooter was just doing it to piss the Diviner off…and to stir up trouble. Surely Xemnas would never bet on something as frivolous as that – would he?

Xigbar’s comment set off the firestorm that he had intended. Everybody exploded in a downright brouhaha of what they’d heard, what they thought, and why certain theories were a bad or good idea – all at once. Even Lexaeus, normally as silent as Nobodies were known to come, was chattering with Zexion and Vexen in a little huddle. The sheer noise of the Nobodies was startling; hadn’t anybody designed this place with decent acoustics, or did everything echo here?

“Wait, Axel,” you shouted over the cacophony. “I don’t get it. Just because Xemnas made a bet – what’s the big deal?”

“Well, there’s only one outcome when you bet with Luxord,” Axel shouted back over the din, leaning down towards you. “So, naturally, Xemnas lost.”

_____________________

Speculation could only last so long, and eventually, the crowd died out, trailing off to do whatever it was Nobodies did on their collective self-appointed day off. Eventually, you, Demyx, and Axel were the only ones left in the Grey Area with Saix, who was still seething. Demyx didn’t care about the bluenette’s anger; after all, he never cared anyway and would barely have done the mission even on a normal day. Axel and Saix, you knew, were pretty close, so Axel probably didn’t feel nervous even when he was the target of Saix’s irritation. And you – well, this actually was your day off, so what was the Diviner going to do to you?

“It’s pitiable,” Saix growled, “that one little rumor is enough to send our infrastructure crumbling to the ground. We should all be better than this,” he added, casting a sidelong glance at Demyx, who was showing you how to play a C chord on the sitar and really not listening at all.

“Yeah,” Axel said absent-mindedly. “I guess we should be. But, you know, the funny thing is that I think around when Luxord first joined the Organization, he made a wager with me that he could get Xemnas to lose a bet. So, even though it’s been years, I guess I’ve lost that one. I’m honestly kind of nervous about what’s in it for me, now.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Demyx said, letting go of your hand where he’d been positioning it on the neck of his sitar. “You made that bet, too? I did the same thing when Lux first joined!”

“Yeah, me too, when I first joined,” you agreed, a bit taken aback. Soon, all eyes were on Saix.

“I…” he trailed off, and you almost wondered if there wasn’t a touch of a blush rising to his cheeks. You tried to suppress a smile; he took himself so seriously! “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible. You and Axel exchanged a glance, and you knew he was thinking the same thing as you; how many others were there who had been caught up in this? Or was it just the four of you?

A tap on your shoulder made you jump and almost let out a yelp. You twisted around, surprised, terrified of finding Luxord or Xemnas waiting for you. But no, it was just a Dusk, politely handing you a playing card. You frowned and took it, turning it over to reveal its face, as the Dusk went around, politely handing out cards to everyone else in the room before stalking off.

“You have been summoned to Where Nothing Gathers for a lunchtime meeting. Arrive at noon promptly,” you read aloud. There was no signature; there didn’t need to be. Every one of you knew who had distributed these memos.

_____________________

You and Larxene entered Where Nothing Gathers together, finally having fallen silent from all of your shared speculation. She, too, had made that same bet with Luxord when she joined the Organization. How many others were there? Had Xemnas really lost? Moreover, were you all totally, royally screwed?

“See you,” Larxene said with a small grimace and a shrug of her shoulders before parting ways with you to take her place on her throne.

“See you,” you echoed, sure your face looked as bewildered as hers, though it was oddly reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one confused and a little afraid.

Demyx was the last one to take his place on his throne, somewhat unsurprisingly. The Superior sat and waited for him in stolid, stony silence, his face betraying nothing. For a long moment, it looked like he wasn’t even going to speak.

“So why are we all gathered here today, in Where Nothing Matters?” Xigbar asked to no one in particular, kicking back and looking quite amused with himself.

“Gathers,” Saix growled. “Where Nothing Gathers.” Xigbar only grinned and shrugged; it was obvious to everyone that today was an ideal day for him to stir up some trouble, and he was loving it.

“We are gathered here, at this abrupt hour,” Xemnas spoke, his deep, resounding voice silencing all others. “Because our Number Ten has an announcement to make. You will all follow his every order without exception. Do I make myself clear?”

Around the room, everybody nodded slowly, and all eyes shifted to Luxord on his throne.

“Greetings, colleagues!” He chirped out in his British accent, sounding so cheerful that the sharp contrast to Xemnas’ monotone was startling. “I understand that various rumors are flying around the Castle, and I want to make one thing perfectly clear: whatever you’ve heard, it’s all true. Now,” he grinned, looking out at everyone with a dangerous light in his blue eyes. Your stomach turned; what were you all in for? Never before had Xemnas announced that you were all to follow any orders other than his or Saix’s, and Saix was really just an extension of the Superior, anyway. “I’d like to announce that tonight, at eight o clock, we will be holding our First Annual Staff Party in the Hall of Empty Melodies.” Luxord paused for effect, beaming out at his audience.

“You’re serious?” Marluxia spoke up, interrupting the silence.

“Besides the Superior’s orders,” Xaldin snapped. “I see no reason to attend this Staff Party. It’s frivolous and a distraction to our plans.”

“Well,” Luxord answered cheerily. “The funny thing is, Xaldin, you may recall a bet that we made when I first joined the Organization…” He trailed off for a moment, and the Whirlwind Lancer frowned, slumping in his seat. “I do believe that you’ve lost that bet today. In fact, I do believe you’ve all lost that bet today,” Luxord added. You glanced around the room; Luxord had roped literally everyone in the Organization into this somehow? “And unless you want to encounter the Superior’s anger, or you want to find out how unpleasant it is to break the terms of a contractually-binding bet with me, you will be in the Hall of Empty Melodies at eight tonight. Dress is casual, jeans and a shirt are fine.”

“Hey, Lux,” Xigbar called up, wasting no time. “Is it bring your own beer?”

“Potluck! Potluck!” Demyx started chanting, pumping his fists in the air and obviously thrilled at the idea of a party. You sighed, slumping into your seat the same way that Xaldin had in his. This was going to be a very long day off.

_____________________

Thanks to Demyx, Luxord actually had adopted the potluck idea, and you and Larxene had to go out together to pick some food up, since most of the rest of the kitchen was being dominated by Nobodies who were surprisingly eager to do some cooking. You weren’t thrilled about having to spend the munny, but had to admit, it was kind of fun getting ready for a party with the only other girl in the Organization.

“Which one?” Larxene asked you, holding two tops up. She wasn’t too into the whole casual-dress affair, and was enjoying getting a little dolled up for once. Her fervor for it was infectious, and you had to admit, you were enjoying it just a little, too. “I like the silver one, but then I’ll have to find a different bra, because this one is so dark it’ll just show right through it. But the other top’s cute, too, and I can wear this bra with it, and let’s be real…it’s my best bra. What do you think?”

Before you could open your mouth, a very familiar voice interrupted.

“Definitely the silver one,” Xigbar announced, vanishing through a portal in Larxene’s wall before she could manage to electrocute him – though not for lack of effort on her part.

_____________________

You and Larxene were among the first at the party. Luxord had, of course, already beaten you to the Hall of Empty Melodies, and greeted you both with a one armed hug and peck on the cheek when he saw you.

“Wonderful to see you both, so glad you could make it. Potluck food on the table to the right,” he announced. “Do mingle with the other girls; you’ve likely seen them around some places, Traverse Town, Hollow Bastion, that sort of thing. They’re all good friends of mine, all have lost bets, you’re all in the same boat so do try to be friendly, loves. Vexen! Wonderful to see you…” The Gambler of Fate moved on from you two as you shuffled toward the table to the right, as directed, eyeing whatever-it-was that Vexen had cooked up and was carrying in. It looked gelatinous and very concerning.

The staff party, it turned out, was a lot of fun. Xigbar had brought some beer, Marluxia had brought some liquor, and you were sufficiently tipsy, your voice slightly hoarse from socializing and cheering on various beer pong teams, by the time ten o clock came around.

“All right everyone,” Luxord called above the din. “Gather round, circle up, come along now.” Slowly, like a herd shuffling into place, the partygoers – yourself included – moved into Luxord’s ascribed position. “Next up, we’ll be playing a game.”

“King’s cup!” Axel shouted.

“No, no,” Luxord grinned with a little chuckle. “Maybe later, though I’m certain some of you will be quite done for the night after that. We’ll be starting with something a bit new, something that we couldn’t have done quite so well if not for the ladies present tonight. Who here has heard of Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

You and Larxene exchanged glances. Oh, God, you thought, and you could see the same look written across her face. Things had been going too well for you all as a group that had lost a bet with Luxord; you should’ve known it couldn’t last.

The game had to be slightly modified, since it turned out that nearly nobody had any small, insignificant trinket to be contributed to pull out of a hat. It was almost embarrassing, watching member after member of the Organization offer either munny, pocket lint, or their weapons to be put into the pool.

Before Luxord attempted to collect from Xemnas, he gave up, redistributing the possessions back to their respective owners (give or take the pocket lint).

“Somebody grab a bottle, I know you’ve all drank more than a few together so far,” he instructed as he struggled to move Saix’s Claymore back to him. Saix, in exchange, gave him the requested bottle, looking extraordinarily nonplussed. “We’ll determine who spins first by having the girls draw cards. The first lady to pull the Ace of Hearts goes first. Let’s see…Larxene, why don’t you start us off?” The Gambler approached your friend, who was seated to your left with a very plain grimace on her face. Luxord didn’t seem to notice or care, offering her a deck of cards fanned out in his hands. With a small, angry groan of frustration in the back of her throat, Larxene drew the card from the far right. You watched closely as your friend turned it over, revealing the Jack of Spades. Her posture and face relaxed as she handed the card back to Luxord.

“Next,” Luxord announced, moving the deck to you. You sighed and shut your eyes, pulling from the deck at random. When you opened them, you found the Ace of Hearts staring back at you.

Just your luck.

Setting your face into as unperturbed an expression as you could muster, you handed the card back to Luxord, who held it up for the group to see. Surprisingly, the group remained silent as you walked toward the center of the circle, where the bottle lay. You took a deep breath and knelt down, giving it a spin – not too hard, but not too gentle, either. The little brown bottle turned around and around, wobbling and wobbling, until finally, it slowed, and when it stopped…

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protoindoeuropean · 4 years

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🌺💘🌷 Get to know your mutuals! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know! They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!🌷💘🌺.

Hvala!!

This seems like a great way to pass that time, now that

1. I am illegaly staying in the dorms(*for anyone that doesn’t know the situation in Slovenia – it’s not actually “illegal,” it’s just that the govt put out an Order for all students to leave the dorms (the only official exceptions are foreign students, those with a permanent residence there and student families) //and it was given out at like 4:30 pm on Sunday, the last day when public transport was still operational (and I didn’t even get the email informing me that we should leave by noon on Monday until midnight lmao; I did know about it through fb and the news tho)// and some of us thought that was bs – esp considering there are people at home that are more at risk of being severely affected (like my grandma, or elderly neighbours) than my one (1) other roommate that remained in the apartment I’m in; also the prospect of staying home for two or more weeks?* not fun … so anyway, the dorm management did give out the order for people to leave, but relied on people adhering to it of their own volition and didn’t actually set out to enforce it, so yesterday the janitor just came in, asked who’s staying in the apartment, said ok when we answered and left without any further comment). So yeah, I’m still here.

*I’ve got wisdom tooth removal scheduled in April anyway, so I’ll be spending some time home then anyway. If it’ll happen at all with everything going on…

Anyhow… on to other (more random) stuff:

2. For some reason I remembered one of my favourite TV characters, Elsbeth Tascioni, today, so now I’m rewatching all the episodes of The Good Wife she’s in.

3. Most people on here don’t follow me long enough – though I was in fact on tumblr then too – to remember/know that during the first year of my studies, I was studying meteorology.

4. I wish I could be pretenious and say that when I’m studying I listen to classical music or sth fancy like that, but in fact the music I listen to is often mashup mixes or remixes of this kind (ever since I first discovered them in 2015). Or the 1 minute of screaming in Twenty One Pilots’ Kitchen Sink (hits just right 😌 ; and it also has a longstanding tradition). Otherwise, normal music too lmao (I just checked and my music folder is nearing 10GB lol).

5. On Saturday, I found another favourite word: rogovíla ‘a forked (and crooked) branch, tree’(to add to osónčje ‘the Solar System; a planetary system’, čár ‘charm; spell; magic’, ròj ‘a swarm’ – rojíti ‘impfv. to swarm’, porodíti–porájati (se) ‘pfv.–impfv. arise {usually in the mind}’, spreletéti–spreletévati ‘pfv.–impfv. to be momentarily filled with {a feeling}, to have the chills’).

#j #about #ask #homoslovenc #gif #not mine #i'll try to do it!

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myloveandlifeinlajolla · 4 years

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I’m really bored so here you guys go!

1. selfie

I never do selfies sorry not sorry. I don’t do them for a number of reasons. Some of the reasons I hope are kinda obvious. I have covered this before and it comes down to the fact that the relationship I am in can lead to trouble for my dad, my sisters, and myself.

2. what would you name your future kids?

I would love to keep the family tradition and either use Gaelic or old french names.

3. do you miss anyone?

Oh man I miss having alot of acquaintances. I was very popular in high-school for alot of reasons; most not too good. I miss my sorority sisters. As you get older you find out everyone grows up at different rates. I have friends that still party like they’re 21 and I have friends that just graduated and are married, 2nd child and are like mini-van mom life! I miss always having the option to choose whom I wanted to be like that day.

I miss my sisters sometimes. I have always seen myself as my sisters’ mom. They are on the other side of the country and they live together so I miss them. They are getting so close and I miss being part of the stories, the inside jokes etc... it’s sometimes a little hard to be left out. THEN, they come home and I end up being a driver, cook, maid, and I’m like okay it’s time for you to fly out...NOW!

4. what are you looking forward to?

I’m at a point in my life where i’m content. I’m looking forward to creating the house into a home. I like decorating it. I’m looking forward to getting the house covered in flowers. I’m looking forward to working out. I’m really looking forward to getting my body back.

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

Without a doubt it’s Catie! I love you missy.

6. is it hard for you to get over someone?

Interesting question and I guess I have a very interesting take on it. I loved my dad forever but there was a time during counseling where we were working on re-aligning the relationship to be more inline with a traditional father/daughter role so we were engaged in alot of behavior modification for me. It was really hard (and made me really depressed, and self destructive and failed) but or psych was still having me see my “crush” every day but I couldn’t do any of the things that my mom did and I was only supposed to do “age-appropriate” activities. But the thing was I loved my mom and I loved doing the things she did. So, life was just hard. Trying to pretend like feelings for someone don’t exist is a miserable experience.

7. what was your life like last year?

Life has been interesting, My dad and I are now living as a couple at the house so there were/are real growing pains associated with that. it’s no longer just his room and my room and we don’t have to sneak around the house. That stuff is amazing and I love that. I miss my sisters. I miss all my acquaintances. Catie’s husband got transferred out of Coronado and they are moving to the Virginia. My dad’s grandfather died. Still have no clue where my aunt is. This is the longest that has happened. My middle sister quit softball, my youngest sister is like a full woman and it’s scary.

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

I have cried for just about every reason under the sun.

9. who did you last see in person?

Dad as he left this morning

10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

I am not good at it at all. Mad, you’ll know, annoyed you’ll know. Sad, you will probably see drinking wine.

11. are you listening to music right now?

Nope, YouTube is on

12. what is something you want right now?

Honestly I feel like sex, anal and giving a blowjob

13. how do you feel right now?

Mildly horny and procrastinating writing up three proposals

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

This morning, I’m a lucky girl!

15. personality description

According to my plum profile I am a marvelous manager, chief communicator, and a decision maker.

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

That’s why I have Tumblr. I can tell everyone and it’s really cathartic.

17. opinion on insecurities

We all have them. Own them but don’t let them run and ruin your life.

18. do you miss how thing were a year ago?

A little. Everything seemed just a little bit easier.

19. have you ever been to New York?

Oh my god yes I love it there!

20. what is your favorite song at the moment?

Memories by Maroon 5, Rebel Girl and Kiss and Tell by Angels and Airwaves

21. age and birthday? 23 now, July 31st,

22. description of crush.

Dad was about 6′4 225 he’s about 6′1″/2″ now I think he’s still around 230

23. fear(s)

I never talk about my fears.

24. height

I’m 5′9″

25. role model

It’s cheesy but my dad.

26. idol(s)

I don’t really have any

27. things i hate

I hate shitty people. I hate mean and manipulative people. There are nice to your face and shitty behind you. If you don’t like me just be honest. We can be polite we don’t have to be friends.

28. i’ll love you if…

I don’t like being cold so if you keep me warm that’s one way. I like shopping so if you like to go shopping with me that’s a good way. I love having good coffee and also tea.

29. favorite film(s)

Phantom of the Opera, Sleeping Beauty, Diamonds are a girls best friends, breakfast at Tiffany’s stuff like that.

30. favourite tv show(s)

West wing, how I met your mother, friends, sex and the city, the big bang theory, the office, scrubs.

31. 3 random facts

I was a triple jumper, I have so many bikini pieces I rarely ever wear matching parts, I suck at swimming and look like a dog swimming.

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?

I have a ton of girl friends

33. something you want to learn

I want to learn programming

34. most embarrassing moment

The moment I hooked up with Catie’s crush in high-school and she was about to let everyone at the party know my “daddy issues” were alot more than that. yeah that sucked. But he was a giant dickhead so I guess it worked out.

35. favorite subject

Biology

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

DREAMS... get married, have children, not be in a secret relationship

37. favorite actor/actress

Reese Witherspoon, and Audrey Hepburn

38. favorite comedian(s)

Ralphie May, Norm McDonald, Jimmy Fallon,

39. favorite sport(s)

Track and Field, Sailing, Rowing, Dressage, and Surfing I was only okay at Track and Field

40. favorite memory

My prom night

41. relationship status

Taken, and like noone knows,..Sad face

42. favorite book(s)

An honorable Profession, the Great Gatsby,

43. favorite song ever

Still gives me chills, Chi ll bel sogno di Doretta but you really have to be in the mood,

LA MUSICA NOTTURNA DELLE STRADE DI MADRID. No. 6, Op.30

Pachelbel - Canon in d

More popular stuff is mashups

44. age you get mistaken for

18-20 I have a baby face

45. how you found out about your idol

I just want to be the best me I can be. no Idols.

46. what my last text message says

To a coworker, “How’s it going?”

47. turn ons

Be nice and kind (especially to a poor/homeless)

Dapper not stylish but classic

Salt and pepper hair

In shape and clean!!!!

48. turn offs

Dirtiness, disheveld, rude, loud and crude.

49. where i want to be right now

I want to be in Manhattan looking out the window onto a city of snow, with dad

50. favorite picture of your idol

nope 51. starsign

I’m a zodiac but none of that means anything.

52. something i’m talented at

blowjobs! No really I love them. Also I’m great at meticulous lab work and business strategy.

53. 5 things that make me happy

1. 99% of the time Dad. 2. Being snooty and posh. I love the opera, symphony, I love getting dressed up, and the whole ritual of it all. 3. coffee and cold misty beach air while im in a warm sweater out by the pool looking at the ocean. 4. shopping, 5. recognized for good work at work.

54. something thats worrying me at the moment

family and I really need to let things go.

55. tumblr friends

Yep got them but I don’t know if they want me to out them here. So you guys get to stay hidden!

56. favorite food(s)

Braised lamb shank is good

57. favorite animal(s)

I love big wrinkly dogs that slobber (WILL NEVER GET THEM) I can’t imagine trying to keep a clean house with fur and slobber!

58. description of my best friend.

What more can I say about Catie, she knows everything and has been my rock since I was 11! She even planned prom for me which was why I am where I am really. I mean It helped get us here alot faster. She is my bestie.

59. why i joined tumblr

This iteration of tumblr has been to talk about what it’s like to be in a real relationship with my biological father NOT some cheesy porno or erotic story. I try to talk about the real relationship struggles we have. Answer questions etc... But I guess I am kinda boring because no one asks anymore.

60. ask me anything you want

#myloveandlifeinlajolla #myloveandlifeinlj #ask me anything #ask game #send me asks

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newkate · 6 years

Text

Siege Harder

For @noirearrowshoot: a Die Hard / Dragon Age 2 mashup for @teamblueandangry Let it Glow event!

mHanders, sfw. CW: about as bloody and violent as Die Hard and DA2. But actually fluff. ~4,5k.

During Satinalia week the College of Enchanters was always almost empty. Most students and staff went home, to celebrate with their families or catch up with their friends. The only children left were the ones who didn’t have a home to go back to: orphans, or those who’d been disowned by their parents when their magic came in. That happened rarely now, mostly in remote and fervently devout areas of Ferelden and Anderfels. Every year one teacher stayed in the College with them, helped them put together their daily meals and a little holiday feast, and made sure the little ones weren’t scared to sleep in their emptied dorms.

This year it was Anders’ turn. Hawke grumbled, of course, but he understood. They lived in town, a short walk from the College, they spent every night together. He would be fine alone for just a week. He could use the opportunity to spend more time with Bethany’s brood, remind them he was definitely their best and most beloved uncle, no matter how hard Uncle Varric tried to buy their allegiance with thrilling stories and lavish presents or how allegedly cool and handsome Uncle Fenris was.

Still, Hawke could visit his husband and bring him Satinalia treats. That wasn’t clingy or lovesick, that was just good manners.

He bought a few things at the market: some sugared plums and roasted nuts, some toys for the little magelings. He walked to the College Square, whistling a festive tune, and then his hands went numb and all the lovingly wrapped parcels spilt into frozen mud.

There was a templar on the main balcony. He was at the same spot where Dean Fiona would stand at the start of each term, to address the new intake of students and their families. Seeing the shiny helmet there instead of her smiling face felt like the worst kind of nightmare.

“Magic must be leashed!” the man yelled. “Magic must serve us! We must cleanse this place!”

There were others, more helmets bobbing in the doorway behind him. The great doors, the main entrance to the College, had always been flung wide open in daytime despite the drafts it caused in the lobby in winter. The mages wanted to have that symbol: the College was free, open to the world. Now the doors were shut. There were a couple of city guards pushing and pulling at them, but by the way the doors didn’t budge at all they seemed to be barred from the inside.

A crowd of townspeople gathered under the balcony, exchanging worried words. Two full squads of city guards were there, shuffling in place, probably awaiting orders.

“What’s going on?” Hawke asked the nearest one.

“Templars,” the woman said. “Templars came from Maker knows where. Took the College, shut the doors, said they’d kill the kids if we try to siege. How many kids are there?”

“About two dozen,” Hawke muttered and stepped closer to the building.

“Anders!” he yelled through his cupped hands. “Anders! Anders!”

The templar on the balcony stopped the speech and probably glared at him - not that Hawke could tell through the helmet.

“Anders!” he kept going. “Anders!”

Two floors above the balcony a window opened and a dear, beloved face peeked out, and Hawke nearly whimpered in relief.

“Hello, love!” Anders yelled, smiling, a gave him a wave. “We’re all fine, we locked ourselves in the library! The kids are being really brave! I’m just trying to figure out how…”

“No!” Hawke screamed. “Stay put, babe! Don’t do anything! I got you, you just stay safe!”

More templars popped out onto the balcony and craned their heads up to look at him. Hawke tensed, expecting them to hit Anders with a smite, but they made no attempt to. He was probably out of range.

“You don’t have to!” Anders screamed, smiling wider. “It’s fine, really!”

“No! Look after the kids, just be safe!” Hawke answered, and then, in front of half the town and all those mystery templars, blushing like a girl, he yelled on top of his lungs: “I love you!”

“I love you too!” Anders replied, leaning out of the window more, as if he wanted to leap into Hawke’s arms - and how wonderful would that be, if Hawke could really catch him like that and whisk him away from danger.

“Don’t you dare!” the templar roared. “Don’t anyone fucking dare get in here! You two, get away from the doors! If the city values these children’s lives, nobody will interfere with our work! We need four covered carts drawn by good horses in front of these doors by noon. We will take the children to a safe location and check them for possessions. We will release everyone who’s clean…”

Hawke dramatically flipped the templar off and ran into an alley leading away from the College. He needed some supplies, but mostly he needed to disguise his approach. They wouldn’t know what would hit them.

Half an hour later, armed and extremely dangerous, the former Champion of Kirkwall sleekly penetrated the templars’ defences through the laundry room window.

He nearly got stuck in there. He spent a few horrifying, humiliating moments wriggling in the narrow frame, frantically trying to suck his stomach in. He should have expected this, really - he’d barely managed to squeeze into his old armour. Quite a few belts had to be left unfastened, which, in his opinion, looked dashing and stylish.

Eventually he struggled through, softly landed on the tiled floor and tiptoed toward the main entrance.

There were two templars by the barred doors. They were busy ripping coat hangers out of the cloak room. Some other broken furniture were already piled in front of the door to reinforce it in case of a siege. Hawke cut them both down before they could reach for their swords. He moved the barricade, unbarred the doors and lingered there, considering his next move.

He could open the doors and let the city guard in. But that would alert the rest of the templars right away, and any chance of subtlety would be lost with a throng of flat-footed guards bumbling around the place. It didn’t matter if Anders and the children were safe in the library, but if the templars would manage to capture them…

No. He’d handle this on his own.

Hawke considered the layout of the place, the routes to the library and best possible spots for traps and ambushes, and began working his way up.

The next two templars he came across were at the doors of the College vault, trying to tamper with the locks. Hawke was going to sneak closer to watch and listen and figure out what they were up to, but, as it turned out, the last fifteen years of happy, sedate married life took their toll not just on his waist circumference. His steps were a lot heavier now. The templars heard him, wheeled around and drew their swords, and he had to kill them both before he could find an opening to secure and interrogate at least one.

Hawke took his boots off after that and proceeded soundlessly. The next templar he found was in the Dean’s office, swigging her prized Orlesian brandy straight from the bottle and rummaging through her desk.

“Hello,” said Hawke, stepping up to him from behind, and put the point of his dagger to the man’s inner thigh through his skirt. “Nice and easy now, if that goes through your femoral artery--”

The templar screamed, twisted around, carelessly sliced himself on the knife and smashed his bottle over Hawke’s head. Hawke staggered backwards, a little dazed, and cut his right heel open on a bottle shard. The templar reached for his sword, and managed to half-draw it before collapsing in the pool of his own blood, his skirts turning redder.

There were clanging footsteps in the corridor: several templars were running here, alerted by the scream. Hawke slipped outside, wrapped his neck scarf over his foot to stop smearing bloody prints over the floor, dashed around the corner, curled in the empty dumbwaiter shaft and closed the hatch behind himself.

If they found him here, he’d have no choice but to kill them. But what he really needed was intelligence on their numbers and intentions.

“Dead,” said one of the templars once they reached the Dean’s office. “Go check on the others downstairs.”

Someone clanged past Hawke’s hideout and soon announced the discovery of the other bodies.

“I bet it’s that fat old man with the stupid beard,” said someone else and Hawke tried to memorise the voice to be sure to kill that one with extreme prejudice. He was not fat, and only forty seven, and his beard was gorgeous. Anders adored it.

“Look, these tracks, that must be his blood. He’s wounded. He won’t be trouble much longer.”

“Still, we better make sure…”

They moved away, and he couldn’t hear them anymore. But it stood to reason that they would search this floor and guard the staircases. Hawke climbed up the shaft, fumbling and slipping in the darkness, as far as it would take him. It didn’t go all the way to the library floor, but it made a decent shortcut, anyway.

This level of the College was mostly classrooms, where the students could practice their spells without endangering priceless books in the library. There were no signs of the templars here so far. Hawke curled on a chair by a window in an empty classroom to pick glass out of his foot, rest his tired muscles and have a little think.

Something had been bothering him about these templars since he saw and heard the first one, out there on the balcony, and only now he’d managed to put his finger on it. It’s been fifteen years since the Circles had been abolished and the templar order effectively disbanded. Hawke had been thirty two back then, but of course plenty of templars had to be as young as nineteen. Still, even those would be in their mid-thirties by now. But all the templars he’d come across had seemed younger. Suddenly he regretted not taking their helmets off to make sure. Where had they been hiding all that time? Where did they get their lyrium from, come to think of it?

There was a soft sound outside, and Hawke drew his daggers and hopped there on his good foot to take a look.

There was a boy of about eighteen, in College apprentice robes, huddled under a desk in one of the empty classrooms. He saw Hawke loom in a doorway and flung his arms out, as if about to cast an offencive spell.

“It’s all right,” Hawke said. “I won’t hurt you. What’s going on here?”

“I don’t know,” the boy said. “I got separated from the others, I think they hid. The templars are going to kill us, aren’t they? I’m so scared!”

“We’ll be fine. I can use a little help, though. What’s your name?”

“Jean…”

“I’m Garrett. What schools do you specialise in?”

“I’m… not very good,” the boy said meekly. “Can’t really control what happens, it just goes wild. In the olden times I’d be Tranquil by now.”

“No worries, we all learn at our own pace. My nephew iced himself to the floor just the other week, shit happens. He’s five, though, but I’m sure you’ll both get it when it’s time. Come on, we better get this over with. Do you know how many templars are there?”

“Lots. Maybe thirty. Shouldn’t we just wait here? What can we do against so many, we’ll both die!”

“We won’t,” Hawke said soothingly. He led Jean into another classroom and shut the door behind them. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“The stairs are that way…” Jean gestured behind them.

“Sure, but they must expect me to come up there. I know a secret passage, it’s over here. We’ll flank them and pick them out one by one.”

There was no secret passage, of course. They were almost up to the blind wall that didn’t connect with the library floor in any way when Jean fell back a little, drew a dagger from his sleeve and aimed a confident stab between Hawke’s ribs.

Hawke caught his hand mid-swing and broke his wrist with one vicious twist. Jean wailed in pain and fell to his knees, and Hawke perched himself on a desk and disapprovingly shook his head.

“Backstabbing an old rogue? Really, did you think that would work? And, just so you know, these robes are tailored for every apprentice, and yours don’t fit. Come on now, how many of you really are there?”

“Help!” Jean yelled. “Attack, now!”

“The rooms here are soundproof,” Hawke said. “The kids cast tempests here all day every day, the walls and the doors are very thick. Answer the question.”

Jean spat out a string of curses, cradling his broken wrist to his chest. Now that he didn’t keep up a carefully gormless wide-eyed expression he didn’t look as young, but still seemed barely in his twenties.

“All right, let me introduce myself properly,” Hawke said. “I’m Garrett Hawke, the husband of the man you have trapped up there. I used to be pretty famous when I was the Champion of Kirkwall. And afterwards for a bit. If you know me from The Tale of the Champion, you don’t really know me. Varric, bless his britches, left out a lot of ugly stuff. Like the agony I can inflict on you with or without my knives, while keeping you alive. Please don’t make me do that. How many of you are there?”

“There was ten of us before you showed up,” Jean gritted out. “You killed my best friend, you fuck!”

“Oh, I went through half of you already? Good. Now, explain to me why do I have templars in my city fifteen years after the order was abolished. You must have been, what, seven, when the last templar snorted up his last doze of lyrium? Is someone still training you in secret? Come to think of it, why haven’t I seen any smiting from you lot?”

Jean bared his teeth in defiance, and Hawke sighed and reached for his knife.

“We’re not really templars,” Jean said quickly. “We got the armour from that crazy old man who used to collect them.”

“Names, please. What man, where?”

“I don’t know, some guy in Kirkwall, we didn’t ask his name. We got word he had lots of good stuff in his basement, but there was mostly just templar armour. So then we had this idea…”

“What idea, to cleanse this place? But if you’re not even templars - ah, right. The vault. You’re just robbers, aren’t you?”

“It’s not right, what happened to the templars,” Jean said, suddenly solemn. “The mages are a threat to us all. They’re mixing with us and polluting our blood. There will be none of us normal people left if this is allowed to continue. They’ll rule over us, like in Tevinter. The templars knew that. They were protecting us.”

Hawke could rant on that topic for days. But in the end, here was the truth: there was now a whole generation that didn’t remember what things were like in the olden days, even for the ones who had no mages in their families. What Kirkwall was like for the last three years of Meredith’s rule. What happened when the templars broke the accords and set out to eliminate the mages and their sympathisers wherever they found them. What the templars were like when they ran out of lyrium.

Hawke had made his peace with the former templars a long time ago, even though that was a long and winding road that involved punching at least one Knight-Captain in the face and scarring the poor sod for life. A lot of them were victims too, orphanage brats forced into it, made addicts, brainwashed until they didn’t see “the robes” as people any more.

These young ones, though, they grew up during peacetime, in a kind of prosperity Ferelden and the Free Marches hadn’t known since before the Blight. They took for granted everything their parents’ generation had fought for. For reasons Hawke couldn’t begin to understand, these boys have built up new romantic ideas of what the templars had been like. The helmets weren’t just a convenient disguise for robbing the empty College, Hawke could see it now. These boys were proud to wear them. They thought themselves champions of the just.

He suddenly felt very tired, old and defeated, but this was not a time to feel sorry for himself.

“Why all the theatrics, why not just empty the vault in the middle of the night and run?” he asked.

“Because if we have the kids as hostages we can take everything,” Jean said. He seemed suddenly encouraged - probably, since Hawke hadn’t replied to his speech about the templars, he assumed he’d won the old man over. “Not just whatever we can stuff in our bags. The books upstairs are priceless. The city will give us those carts and horses, they’ll cave in, I know it. We can load up half the library in those. And nobody will chase us. We’ll ride away, and then we’ll disappear. Nobody would have seen our faces. Look, your husband locked himself in there with all the children, he wouldn’t open. We’re going to set fire to the doors and smoke them out. If he keeps on being stubborn, children might die. He might die. Now, if you convince him to let us in, nobody will get hurt. You’ll both come with us, to keep the children from freaking out. And when we’re clear, we’ll let you go and give you a share. With five of us dead, you can have half of what was to go to them.”

“Hang on,” Hawke said. “Wouldn’t it take a while to fence all this? The books and the trinkets from the vault are all highly specific, very traceable items. To get the right price you need the right buyer. How are you going to cut me my share before you even sell anything?”

“No, that’s the best part, we already have a buyer! For the artifacts, and the books, and the kids…”

“The kids?”

“Only the elf ones,” Jean said. “We were going to let the human ones go.”

Hawke sighed, grabbed him by the neck, hauled him toward the window and swung him out.

“Hawke!” yelled the Captain of the City guard at the sight of him. Now every guard from the barracks seemed to be here, including the off-duty shift, lined up and in a middle of some kind of tactical briefing. “That better not be a hostage!”

“Why would it be? This is the ringleader of the gang!” Hawke helpfully explained, dangling his wheezing captive over the courtyard stones. “He has information about slavers in the area! Get a blanket or something, my arm’s getting tired!”

“Hawke, we talked about this!” the Captain screamed mournfully. He pulled off his own cloak and instructed the guard to stretch it under the window.

Hawke let go and watched Jean plunge down with a howl. He bounced off the spread cloak and fell onto the stones, and screamed when the guards attempted to pull him up.

“Hopefully broke another bone,” Hawke muttered and gave the guards a thumbs-up. “The door's open, by the way! Come in!”

“Hawke, please stay put, just don’t do anything,” the Captain started, and Hawke shut the window and limped to the stairs. Anders and the children were still safe, if Jean was to be believed, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

He ran up the stairs to the library floor. Jean hadn’t lied: there really were just four fake tempars left there on the landing. Two were facing the stairs with their swords drawn, waiting for Jean to walk Hawke into the ambush, hopefully already with a knife in his back. Two others crouched by the massive oak doors that led to the library proper. The door was splattered with oil, and small blue flames already danced up those dark patches, not hot enough yet to eat into the old wood, but moments from it.

“I’ll give you one chance to surrender,” Hawke managed before they all rushed him.

He’d wanted to fight them. For all the fear and helplessness they’d made him feel, for all the memories they’d dredged up. For Anders, for the children. But even as he dodged the first attack he already knew that fighting four swordsmen alone was a stupid idea. It would have been even fifteen years ago, when he’d been young, fit and sharp from regular skirmishes, but it was spectacularly unwise now.

“Should have waited for the guard,” he sighed to himself as his arms screamed in pain from parrying the sword blows, as his knees loudly popped whenever he rolled under a sword swing. “Should have waited.”

In the end he only took a few glancing hits, shallow wounds Anders would fix in one breath, and only once slipped on the blood still gushing from his foot. Luckily, falling spared him from a stab he wouldn’t have been fast enough to side-step. After he felled the last robber Hawke smothered the fire with the stolen templar skirts and slumped by the singed door to catch his breath.

With his ear to the door he could just hear Anders’ voice, steady and clear. He was entertaining the kids, keeping them calm.

“And then they all attacked me and stabbed me right through the heart!” Anders said, eliciting a few gasps from his audience. “But Justice, my good spirit friend who lives inside me, always comes to my aid in times of trouble. He popped out, healed my wound, defeated all the templars and ate them.”

“Gross!” laughed a few children.

“Right? Spirits are not like us, you see, he didn’t see anything wrong with that. He knows better now. But he’ll still always protect me and all my friends and students. So don’t worry. You’re always safe with me.”

“Justice will save us from the bad men?” asked a child that sounded about as young as Bethany’s latest masterpiece, five-year-old Malcolm.

“Even better, this time my husband will save us! The bravest and most handsome man in all the Thedas! He’s so charming and gorgeous, and there’s no better fighter. These cowards are no match for him.”

Hawke smiled to himself and knocked on the door.

“Babe,” he called. “It’s me, it’s safe to open. Bit messy here, though.”

He heard Anders’ footsteps approach, the bolts inside slide free, and then the door opened and he saw his love again, smiling, safe and unharmed.

Hawke stepped through and shut the door, leaving the corpses behind.

“Let the guards clean up before the kids come out,” he said and drew Anders into his arms.

They kissed, and it felt just like that first time almost two decades ago: everything else fading away, Anders clinging to him with his whole body, making desperate noises against his mouth.

“You’re safe,” Hawke said afterwards, gasping a little for breath, and stroked Anders’ fair hair, traced the familiar silver streaks in it with his fingers. “I know you probably could have dealt with them by yourself--”

“Yes, but I was worried about the kids. You remember how Justice can be around the templars. I knew they’d be no trouble for you.”

“They weren’t even real templars. Just stupid brats playing at a heist.”

“Good,” Anders said and kissed him again, and Hawke melted into it, forgetting all about his injuries. “It did unsettle me a little, seeing them again. But I knew there had to be a simple explanation. It’s all over, it can’t happen again. It never will.”

“Never,” said Hawke, as if swearing a vow, and Anders led him inside the library, closer to the windows, where the children were waiting, quiet and worried.

“Who wants to see spirit healing of a real life wound?” Anders asked, and all the kids threw their hands up and clumped around them to watch as Anders healed Hawke’s foot, the cuts on his arms and ribs.

“Is he really the handsomest man?” Hawke noticed one teenage girl whisper to her friends sceptically, but he ignored it.

Afterwards Anders channelled Panacea to heal Hawke’s tired muscles and strained joints, cuddled Hawke to his side and told the kids about their wedding and their top three most romantic dates. The Guard Captain popped inside the library and gave Hawke a well-worn speech, chiding him for interference with the proper protocols. Hawke nodded along and, as usual, promised it wouldn’t happen again.

After the bodies were removed and the blood was mopped up they finally left the library. The kids instantly split up into little groups and dispersed through the building, desperate to run and play after hours of being cooped up and probably scared out of their minds despite their teacher’s best efforts.

“Can we go home?” Hawke begged. He couldn’t imagine leaving and letting Anders out of his sight again.

“You know I can’t leave the children. Especially now. They’ll need me.”

“They seem fine.”

“They’re relieved now. This will wear off by supper, and there will be tears. You can stay here, though.”

He gave Hawke his beautiful, warm smile, the same one that had dazzled Hawke all those years ago. The smiles revealed more lines at his eyes now, but that only made them more radiant.

“After we tuck the children in,” he said. “I’ll take you to my room and give you your Satinalia present. And your reward for rescuing me today.”

“Are they the same thing?” Hawke asked hopefully. “Twice?”

“It’s a surprise,” Anders smiled and gave Hawke’s butt a loving squeeze. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

#dragon age #my fic #handers #wow I'm writing male Hawke finally #Garret is a babe #let it glow 2017

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hapaxva · 7 years

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Stolen Content

Overwatch Comics:

and Game Comedy:

I and my friend @hamletjinx have been having our videos taken by these people without our permission for a while now and putting them into compilations/mashups with click bait thumbnails like you see above. I’ve seen them use videos like my “Latino Things Reaper Does” and “Hi, Noon!” videos used in their compilations multiple times. They’ve also used quite a few of Hamlet’s videos a few times over. Especially “The Dragon Child” A VIDEO THAT SHE WORKED SO HARD ON AS A TRIBUTE TO HER FATHER WHO HAS PASSED AWAY IS BEING USED BY THESE PEOPLE TO GET AN EASY UNEARNED PAYCHECK! So I went to their “About” pages and this is what I found last night when I was informed about it. Here is the one from Overwatch Comics:

Just a submission email address. I don’t know if people actually submit things to them but you would STILL have to ask for permission from the original creator of the video if it’s okay because you’re not changing anything in the videos you take from us. To add to that, a lot of these “Promotion/Compilation channels” take out the end slates of our videos and just put a link to the creator’s channels in the description. The description that ALMOST NOBODY BOTHERS TO READ! ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S UNDER THE “SHOW MORE” BUTTON. Here is the one from Game Comedy: (Now this one really pissed me off.)

At the very bottom. “We will never upload videos without full permission from the creator or an exclusive content license.”

FUCKING BULLSHIT! Neither I nor Hamlet was contacted to ask for permission to use our videos for their compilations and guess what? They are straight up LYING to be able to make money out of other people’s hard work.

“Well you’re just mad because they’re getting more views than you.” That’s EXACTLY the point! We do all the work and then they come along and take it to make money out of it! AND IN THIS CASE, WITHOUT OUR PERMISSION! Yes! I AM mad about it because these people claim that they are doing this to promote the youtubers who’s videos they are using but tell me, in all honesty. How many times do you think people would actually look in the description of a video and actually read it to find the links to the original creators of the videos to support them? They’ve already seen the videos. It’s so much easier to just watch these compilations, have a laugh and then move on to other things. So many times have I gotten comments asking what the song I used in a video is WHEN IT’S RIGHT THERE IN THE DESCRIPTION. So many times have people commented telling me I made a typo in the comic that I was dubbing WHEN THE ORIGINAL ARTIST’S NAME AND LINK IS RIGHT THERE IN THE DESCRIPTION AND END SLATE. It’s a lot of reading and I know for a fact that maybe only a handful of people have kept on reading. I can’t really blame them. I’m not exactly a big enough presence, if any, to actually have a voice on the internet that people would want to listen to. Maybe I’m just over reacting. Maybe they’re in the right. Maybe I should just bend over and let this fucked up system destroy my motivation to even try. Who knows?

#overwatch #comic dub #stolen content #compilation #mashup #just another whiny bitch

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literatelobstersareliterate · 6 years

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A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words | harm·less drudg·ery

A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words

One of the occupational hazards of being a lexicographer on social media is that you are often subjected to arguments about whether something is a word or not. Lexicographers see these complaints and swiftly scroll right on by them, though we do sometimes indulge in a judicious (and perfectly justified) subtweet. We’ve learned that arguing with people about whether something (usually “irregardless“) is a “real word” is a Sisyphean exercise in futility, and lexicographers get enough of that at work.

But that doesn’t help you, the person being hollered at on Twitter that “mines” isn’t a real word. Who better to tell you what a word actually is? So in the interest of settling all those arguments, forever (amen and amen), here is a short (senses 1 and 2) lexicographer’s guide to “real words.”

I think [insert reviled word here] isn’t a real word.

Let’s back up. Why do you think it’s not a real word? Because by a linguist’s definition, if it communicates meaning to an audience, then it’s “a real word.”

That’s ridiculously broad.

Oh gurl:

How do you communicate thoughts to an audience? You might communicate by uttering a string of phonetic sounds, making signs in a manual language, or writing a series of characters. Meaningful units of these sounds, signs, or written characters are often what we would consider to be words.

In short: if it’s part of a language system and communicates meaning, linguists consider it to be “a real word.”

But it’s illogical/ugly/stupid.

Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it somehow “not real.” This is one of the more absurd notions that people have about language: that the mere dislike of a word invalidates its very existence. You’d never see that logic deployed effectively anywhere else in the real world. [Ed. note: The White House is not the real world.] I hate heat, for instance, and think temperatures above a very dry 80F can just nope right on out of here–but summer arrives every year, like clockwork, just to piss me off. Should my personal feelings about the power of the sun ruin everyone else’s beach vacation?

Besides, “illogical” and “stupid” rely on your knowledge base, and lemme tell ya, that’s smaller than you think. You may think that “inflammable” to mean “flammable” is illogical, because “in-” means “not,” but you would be wrong. “Inflammable” comes from the Latin inflammare, which means “to inflame” or “to burst into flame.” The “not” “in-” has nothing to do with it. “Inflammable” meant “flammable” before “flammable” meant “flammable”!

And even if a word is illogical or stupid, so what? You know how many completely unremarkable words arose from a stupid misreading? You use “cherry” and “apron” just fine, even though “cherry” came about because some 14th-century doofus thought the Anglo-French “cherise” was plural (it wasn’t), and “apron” came about because court clerk read “a napron” as “an apron” and rendered it as such, and then future readers thought, “Oh, man, the clerk to Edward III says it’s ‘apron,’ I better get in line,” even though that same clerk used “napron” later in the Household Ordinances, and here we are.

Language is not math. Language is people, and people are a mess. Yes, you too.

But this word is jargon, and jargon is meaningless, so it’s not a real word. Use words that actually mean something!

Jargon is, properly, the technical language of a particular group or activity. It can also refer to obscure and often pretentious language marked by circumlocutions–a definition that is pretty damned jargony. But not all jargon (sense 1) is jargon (sense 2). Hell–not all jargon (sense 1) is even all that technical! If you like a sport, have a job, go to school, have a hobby, or watch TV, then you know and use jargon. You can stream the Royal Wedding online while cabling an Aran sweater, checking the box scores for last night’s game and helping your kid figure out their math homework using manipulatives when the commercial breaks are on. Your whole life is marked by jargon of one sort or another, so stop getting your knickers in a knot over it.

But this supposedly real word isn’t in your/a/any dictionary!

It’s a common misconception that dictionaries enter every word in a language. This is a misconception started by dictionary companies who were desperate to outdo one another in sales and so made some dubious claims about how their dictionaries were “the sum of all human knowledge” and how, in dropping some bucks on one, you could “hold the English language in your two hands.”

There are many, many, many more words that do not make it into dictionaries than do, and this is the nature of the dictionary. If English is a swift moving river, then a dictionary is a cup of water scooped from that river: static, small, hopefully a good representative sample of that river, but not the river.

There are lots of reasons why a word might not be entered into a dictionary. First, what do we consider discrete words? Is the noun “compact” a different word than the verb “compact”? Are the different meanings of the noun “compact” different words? What if the different “compacts” come from different etymological sources? Is every inflection of a word a different word than the root? What about compound words like “slingshot”? Is that a different word from “sling” and “shot”? What about potential compound words, or potential inflections that we might not have now but we could at some point in the future (“mouses”), or potential affixal uses (“unfriend”)? What about words that no longer exist? What about initialisms and abbreviations? Are these all discrete words?

Incidentally, this goat rodeo is also why people who tell you that English has however many hundred-thousands words in it are full of bullshit (which can be one word or two words, depending on how you reckon).

Every professionally edited dictionary has criteria for entry–generally speaking, widespread use in printed prose for a sustained period of time–and many words never meet that criteria. Even good words! “Prepone,” a brilliant verb which means “to reschedule to an earlier time than originally scheduled” and is based on “postpone,” doesn’t yet meet the criteria for entry at Merriam-Webster, and it’s not only a clever coinage, but so frickin’ handy! Does away with the dumb confusion caused by “move back” and “move up” (“We’re moving the 10am meeting back to noon.” “So you’re moving it up to noon?” “No, we’re moving it back to noon.” “Was it originally at noon?” and then everyone sounds like a pathetic mashup of The Confederacy of the Dunces and “Who’s On First”). Everyone should use “prepone” in print, but not enough people do, and so it languishes in the database, noticed but not defined.

And there’s another sticking point. For a word to get into a dictionary, it needs to be found and tracked by lexicographers–and, to be frank, lexicographers are experiencing job creep as the industry shrinks. Gone are the halcyon days when a lexicographer had an hour or two daily to read and look for new words: now we’re busy writing and copyediting articles for the website, answering correspondence, running social media feeds, moderating comments on those feeds, brainstorming new products, doing media, writing editorial reports, proofing sales reports, coding for the database, troubleshooting the outdated data in the database…oh, and defining. Your sparkling, wonderful coinage, which you use constantly on Twitter and have, as I told you to do, used in letters to the editor or in editorials your town paper has printed…sorry I missed it. I was busy justifying my corporate existence with a click-positive article on the phrase “three sheets to the wind” in conjunction with an ad campaign we’re running with Budweiser.

The whole dictionary racket ignores the flashpoint where language is actually made: speech (or signing). Words are rarely born in print, but that’s all the lexicographers track. That means that all those words you use only in family conversations, or new words that are coined for one in-person interaction and never used again–those very real words–are lost to us. Until we hack Alexa to record everything you say and send it to our offices, that is. (j/k, lol)

Steve Kleinedler puts it best: “the English language changes too quickly and is too vast to be completely catalogued.”

Okay, let’s try this: how do I know when a word isn’t real?

Not to get all ontological and shit, but if it is a signifier of meaning used in the course of communication between people, it’s real. Even if it’s unintelligible to you! I don’t speak Polish, but I’m not going to say that Polish words aren’t real just because I don’t understand them.

You’re making me sound like a massive prick.

What’s the point, really, of declaring that a word isn’t real? It’s ultimately a show of power or superiority over someone else, and so, in that sense, it is the marker of an absolute unit of shittiness. I’ve made my feelings about correcting people’s speech known before, and this is just another variant of it. It centers someone else’s language in your own experience, and it’s ridiculous to think that yours is the default experience for everyone. Language is bigger than just one person! That’s a feature, not a bug!

So what am I supposed to do when I see a word that I think isn’t a real word but which you, a so-called professional, tells me is?

Ask about it! And if you can’t ask the person who uses it, ask a linguist, because they love it when people ask questions about things that they can actually research, instead of dumb questions like, “Oh, you’re a linguist, how many languages do you speak?”

Why do people use “mines”? There is a dictionary that will explain why–and it will also tell you about “hern” and “theirn” while it’s at it. Has someone used a jargony word, like “logomark,” that you think is redundant? Do a quick search online for how a logomark differs from a logo, and consider that perhaps, though jargon, it is a word that serves a purpose that neither “logo” nor “trademark” completely serves. Did someone utter “irregardless” in your hearing? Buy fifteen copies of this book and read the fourth chapter repeatedly. Revel in a language that is always growing and lives well beyond your grasp!

And stop tagging lexicographers on Twitter. We’re really only there for the dog pictures, man.

(via A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words | harm·less drudg·ery)

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