edwardspoonhands
edwardspoonhands:

allthingslinguistic:

xkcd: Wikipedia article titles with the right syllable stress pattern to be sung to the tune of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song. (Here’s the song, for reference.)
All of these titles are examples of trochaic tetrameter, which is one of the most common English meters (a trochee is a foot consisting of STRONG-weak and tetrameter is four feet per line). Another example is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, although that has a deficient last foot, but you can sing any of these titles to that tune as well if you just double the last note.
Trochaic tetrameter creates a strong feeling of sing-song “poem-ness” in English. Most Shakespearean characters, for example, speak in iambic pentameter (weak-STRONG, five feet per line), which sounds more natural, but a few speak in trochaic tetrameter for dramatic effect. For example, MacBeth and Lady MacBeth speak in iambic pentameter, which gives the effect of talking normally: 

Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!Macbeth does murder sleep,” the innocent sleep,Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care,
Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One: two: why,then, ‘tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky!—Fie, mylord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need wefear who knows it, when none can call our powerto account?—Yet who would have thought the oldman to have had so much blood in him?

But the witches speak in trochaic tetrameter, which makes them seem like they’re delivering an incantation: 

Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair

Previous xkcd on poetry: metrical foot fetish, ballad meter, trochaic fixation. Language Log also has a long, interesting post on meter. 

My favorite thing about this is picturing all of the people sitting alone in their homes singing “SAN DIEGO CITY COUNCIL!” to the tune of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

edwardspoonhands:

allthingslinguistic:

xkcd: Wikipedia article titles with the right syllable stress pattern to be sung to the tune of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song. (Here’s the song, for reference.)

All of these titles are examples of trochaic tetrameter, which is one of the most common English meters (a trochee is a foot consisting of STRONG-weak and tetrameter is four feet per line). Another example is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, although that has a deficient last foot, but you can sing any of these titles to that tune as well if you just double the last note.

Trochaic tetrameter creates a strong feeling of sing-song “poem-ness” in English. Most Shakespearean characters, for example, speak in iambic pentameter (weak-STRONG, five feet per line), which sounds more natural, but a few speak in trochaic tetrameter for dramatic effect. For example, MacBeth and Lady MacBeth speak in iambic pentameter, which gives the effect of talking normally: 

Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep,” the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care,

Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One: two: why,
then, ‘tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky!—Fie, my
lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we
fear who knows it, when none can call our power
to account?—Yet who would have thought the old
man to have had so much blood in him?

But the witches speak in trochaic tetrameter, which makes them seem like they’re delivering an incantation: 

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair

Previous xkcd on poetry: metrical foot fetish, ballad meter, trochaic fixation. Language Log also has a long, interesting post on meter

My favorite thing about this is picturing all of the people sitting alone in their homes singing “SAN DIEGO CITY COUNCIL!” to the tune of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

hellasterek

deleted-scenes:

Teen Wolf AU: So Stiles’ original plan of insinuating himself into every aspect of Derek’s life and making Derek fall in love with him - mostly by just being everywhere all the time - might not have worked as well as anticipated because Derek is a paranoid bastard, but from where Stiles is standing it looks like it all went okay anyway. 

Inspired by this post, except that it got sappier.

“’Okay’? I’m sorry, did you say ‘okay?’”

Derek sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “I did.” He takes a step closer to him, not sure if the racing heart he hears is Stiles’ or his own.

Stiles rubs a hand over his buzzed hair. Derek can’t wait to get his mouth on it, feel it bristle against his thighs. “Holy shit I can’t believe that worked. I didn’t think – “

“You mean you actually planned that speech? You came here to ask me out and that’s the speech you planned?” Derek loved the speech, has been waiting for Stiles to blurt out something ridiculous like that for awhile now, but he still can’t help but tease him for it. 

Stiles is especially adorable when he’s stuttering and trying to argue with him. “No, I didn’t plan…I just…I didn’t think you’d really even want to be my friend, let alone…the other stuff. To be honest, I don’t even remember exactly what I said.”

Derek can definitely hear the racing of Stiles’ pulse now, wonders if he’ll get to trace its sinuous path under his skin with his tongue, maybe rough up that pale, beauty-marked canvas with hickies and beard burn, mark his neck up so everyone knows he’s taken, mark up all kinds of other places only he’ll get to see, just for the two of them.

Derek takes another step closer so there’s hardly any space at all between them. They’ve been closer, a lot closer, in the pool, in the sheriff’s station, but it’s never felt like this.

Like the beginning of something that will never end.

“You said that you wanted to be my best friend who holds my hand and gives me orgasms and maybe puts a ring on it.”

He can’t help but smile at Stiles’ look of cringing horror. “Oh god, and you still said okay?”

“I must be crazy.” He runs a finger up Stiles’ arm, smiling as his skin rises in goosebumps in response to his touch. His knuckles dance over his collarbone, eyes locked on Stiles’ lower lip, red and pillowy from his nervous chewing, his oral fixation.

“Or you just have really low standards,” Stiles attempts to tease, slightly cracking voice giving him away even if his heartbeat hadn’t already.

Derek gently cups the back of Stiles’ neck, runs his thumb across his hairline, memorizing the flutter of his eyelashes when they flit up to meet his gaze. “Or, I also want to be your best friend who holds your hand and gives you orgasms and puts a ring on it.”

“Oh.” Stiles says, all soft and perplexed, scent thickening with sweet happiness and lust.

Derek’s got him in his grasp now, other arm hooked firmly around his narrow waist, pressing them close together. He takes a deep breath and finally gives in to two years of temptation, closing his eyes as he nuzzles into Stiles’ neck, inhaling his musky-sweet scent up close, so potent and pure right there behind his ear it makes him dizzy. Derek noses hard at his jaw, running his face along the hard-edged bone dusted in short, sharp stubble.

Stiles is making a noise, groaning and gasping, body going pliant, cock pressing against his, both of them hard and straining against the fabric between them. “Is, uh,” he pants, breath hot and wet against his cheek, “there a particular order you want to do those things?”

Derek smiles into his neck and reaches down to intertwine their fingers, clasping his hand firmly. “I’m a fan of trying everything at once,” he whispers before kissing him, finally.