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honestly i think im good without that thanks

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The Black Brook by John Singer Sargent

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bro, does this party have perfectly ripe summer heirloom tomatoes or do we need to pregame?

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New Book Announcement!

Shades of War, a Sci-fantasy adventure by @evelynmlewis, first in a trilogy, will debut on March 30, 2026. We are excited to finally bring the book to everyone who has been waiting in this years-long process. Stay tuned for more updates.

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500 years from now there’s gonna be some film historian who’s entire career is built off of searching for a copy of goncharov

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looking for opinions both from americans and non-americans: what would you consider to be the big 4 american cities in terms of like, vibes-based cultural impact?

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This is incomplete even for a drabble, but I thought I’d post it for the end of the Rilla of Ingleside book club. JRR Tolkien and Walter Blythe in the trenches.

A soldier sat in the trenches as the sun sank. It had been a dreary but not a dangerous day, a day of tedium and itching and weary guard, but no firing. One foot was particularly wet, as a rat had eaten a hole in his boot.

He looked out over no-man’s land. It was a ruin of mud and barbed wire and holes driven by artillery-shells; not the fertile mud that heralded spring growth, but a blasted mud that held nothing growing, and seemed as if nothing could ever grow there again; that a century hence it would look the same, a monument to desolation.

The man to his left was speaking softly under his breath. It was not cursing, as was more often than not the case with soldiers; he had caught snatches of words, of violents and wind and small streams rippling over rocks. The other soldier flushed at seeing himself overheard, and fell silent.

“What were you thinking of?” the first soldier asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“I’d like to know. It would be pleasant to hear, or think, of something that isn’t” – he waved a hand around him – “this.”

“Do you care for poetry, then?”

“Poetry – myth – legend. I think sometimes of faery – not the little delicate twaddle about rainbow-winged miniature creatures, but of strange people before us and beyond us, with joys and sorrows of their own. Yet somehow even their stories are always of war.”

“I used to believe in faerie. It was easy, back home; there were so many places that felt enchanted. It’s harder here. The noise and the smells and the ugliness all seem to drive it out. I was trying to remember that in other places there is a springtime that is not like this, that has flowers and new leaves and clean air and fresh water. I don’t think I could keep on if I hadn’t that. It seems more of a fantasy that faerieland is, sometimes.”

The young man’s grey eyes had an expression, looking out under his dark hair, as if they were looking far away to another place.

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Johann Martin Gensler, View of the Elbe through a Window, 1838, oil on canvas.

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Arwen Undómiel

This is the closest I could come to what I imagine Imladris looks like, as I never seem to quite settle on a design, but I am delighted with how this turned out! Especially the stairs!

Inspired by; "The Secret Rendezvous" by Pierre Charles Comte

Support me on Ko-Fi; early access drawings + WIP + commission discounts

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hate when people are always like "oh audiences don't want 22 episode seasons anymore they want shorter seasons and tighter storylines!" and then you look at the shorter season and it has multiple episodes longer than an hour, sometimes even rivaling or surpassing the average length of a marvel movie, with the worst pacing known to mankind and somehow everything is still rushed , and it's like actually ☝️ i would love a 22 episode season of 25 or 40 minute well-paced episodes with an arc that unfolds at a reasonable speed and suspense over the full season's runtime. which is probably the same damn length minutewise as your 10 episode crime against god at this point.

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Just saw a post reflecting on justice vs mercy and it reminded me of something I recently drafted for TCoE. I’ve come to realize in later chapters justice vs mercy is a large theme that needs to be focused on. Maglor has done awful things, and that can’t be something that everyone just turns a blind eye to. He’s been shown friendship and sympathy and mercy that he doesn’t deserve, which is necessary, but the fact stands that he has committed murder (some of which has personally impacted people he knows and interacts with) and deserves to be held accountable for that. Arwen had a conversation with him earlier where he wholeheartedly believes this, and yet runs from it. Runs from judgment, runs from the oath he sworn down upon him, in the hope that he can somehow do something to atone for it—or at least make his fate better. He’s also a masochist and figures he can punish himself better than anyone else can, so why give himself up? Part of his arc in the last few chapters is reliant on him coming to the understanding that both mercy and justice are valid but that he has…idk for the lack of a better word been abusing the mercy he’s been shown and using it to hide/not stand up to his actual crimes. There was important character growth that came about as a part of that, but it’s time to take that next step and accept that its time for justice as well.

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“Quick and easy” recipe that requires 14 ingredients, my beloathed

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There’s something almost like Wodehouse to frodogenic’s prose.

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Ah frodogenic. This has been a favorite for a long time! Time for a reread!

Out of nowhere the Force went—Luke could only describe it as the color a battle klaxon’s scream would be if you could taste it. He couldn’t see it, but he could sure as hell feel it. So could Vader; his saber arm froze, still suspended behind him. Both their heads spun north, towards the slope the stormtroopers had hiked over. There was a faint but swiftly building roar. Also, briefly, screams. Luke swallowed. “What’s that?” “Damn,” said Vader. “That’s not an answer!” What was he pretending to be now, the second coming of Han Solo?

I have read this like five times now and I am wheezing with laughter.

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This blog is my adult version of cutting pictures out of magazines and glueing them on to paper