#This is half the reason I got into the hobbit

[edwardallenpoe]

*dark, brooding male character with a bunch of trauma and the weight of the world on their shoulders, hair dark and oily and lined with silver from stress, bearing through his situation with gritted teeth and probably not having a happy ending* me: hmmm yeah this is awesome but there's something off...

*headcanons him as a butch lesbian* me: ohhhh ffukc.... Oh ggod. I'm gona throw ufp..

[kariachi]

Sometimes one remembers that the most common ancestral race of hobbits is described by Tolkien as "browner of skin" then the less common two (who might have been mostly outbred over the many years? on the topic of the "fairer of skin and also of hair" set Concerning Hobbits describes that "the strong Fallohidish strain could still be noted among the greater families, such as the Took and the Masters of Buckland", which to me implies that while there's still clear ancestry there they probably still have heavy Harfoot or even Stoor influence going on- otherwise why describe it as a 'strong strain' rather than just say they're still primarily Fallohidish families? especially when you consider that the section in question is discussing that they were particularly bold and adventurous for hobbits and so given what the Tooks and Brandybucks are like it may be more often a matter of inclination rather than visuals- not to doubt that the visuals show up, but probably not as often as inclination, especially if you allow for the secrecy-focused courting habits mentioned in the first draft of the first chapter of LotR (as published in The Return of the Shadow: The History of Lord of the Rings Part 1, by Christopher Tolkien, pg 17, yes I did go hunting), which would make marriages between differing groups so much more accessible (and may actually be why that's a thing)), that their curly hair is consistently pointed out, and that our initial description of hobbits given in The Hobbit specifically mentions "nimble brown fingers".

And then one gets aggravated all over again at how long it took for non-white hobbits to show up in adaptations and the sheer number of people over the years who have tried to make out like non-white hobbits would be such a horrible canon-breaking thing.

[winterinhimring]

I AM NOT OKAY ABOUT BOROMIR

He lives his entire life in a country that's facing off against the forces of evil incarnate. The borders are shrinking yearly. Their people are dying faster than they are born. He is the son of the Steward; he must be aware of all of this from his teens.

He grows up. He grows into a general. Now every loss is on him. Every father who won't come back to his sons. Every husband who won't come back to his wife. Every son who won't come back to his parents. Every inch of ground lost. He knows it's inevitable. He knows this is an unwinnable war. It's still his orders, his men, his country. He's failing them. Nobody could succeed, but it is him that fails all the same.

He gets sent off on a quest that roughly amounts to a modern British soldier being told (in a dream) 'go find Camelot, talk to the brownies, and get Arthur to come back here with Excalibur and save the day'. He goes, because those are his orders, and he's a good soldier.

He gets yanked into the weirdest spec-ops mission in history. They are trying to destroy an atomic bomb engineered by Satan. Half the participants are the aforementioned brownies, who are waist high and have manifestly never been in so much as a skirmish in their lives. (He tries to teach them how to use a sword, in the hopes that they won't die if there is an actual fight.) One is a wizard, two are somewhat more mundane myths, and one is a weird scruffy wilderness man that people keep telling Boromir to swear allegiance to. He goes along with it because he doesn't really have orders in this situation, but when he suggested using the atomic bomb, the wizard got very angry and swore a lot in a language he didn't understand and made the sky turn black, and everyone else seemed to view this as conclusive.

(The atomic bomb could save his country if they were allowed to use it, he's pretty sure. He tries not to think about that.)

For some reason, the wizard and company are determined not to go back to the nearest fortified city and regroup. They are determined to go straight to the heart of the enemy's realm. In the course of this determination, they get chased by crows, they climb a mountain which might be sentient and trying to kill them or might just be having a snowstorm because of an evil wizard, and they get buried in snow. The hobbits almost die.

Wizard and company still refuse to return to the fortified city and regroup. They go into a mythical city where there are supposed to be friends, and they find halls full of bodies. (This is more familiar territory than he wishes it was.) They get attacked by a giant lake squid. People keep throwing hobbits at him. (Seriously, Boromir gets so many hobbits chucked at him over the course of this movie.)

They get trapped inside the fallen mythical city. They've almost made it through when one of Actual Satan's massive fire-demons starts chasing them. (Keep in mind that the Balrogs were last heard of at the end of the First Age, and Boromir is a soldier, not a scholar. From a modern perspective, this is something like having a dragon the size of an airplane show up and attack your military platoon.) The wizard dies fighting the fire-demon. He pulls the hobbits out, keeps the dwarf from running back inside (to do what, Boromir doesn't know, but Gimli probably doesn't know either; Boromir has seen men get like that before when someone dies in front of them), and accepts the orders from the weird scruffy wilderness man because he seems to at least have an idea of where to go.

He follows the wilderness man right into another myth. He meets a woman who reads his mind and tells him that there's hope for his country to survive. (Boromir has not had hope since he realised that Gondor's borders were shrinking year by year and their army dwindling and their allies weren't coming to aid them. This probably happened roughly when he was sixteen. He is forty. Hope, even the idea of it, hurts so much more than despair ever did.)

When they are on the verge of leaving even the vestiges of friendly territory behind, he finally asks for the chance to use the enemy's weapon. He is shut down. He tries to take it by force (the only thing crueller than being given hope is having it taken away)...he does and says things he never thought he'd say or do.

He tries to hurt someone he's sworn to protect.

He's sorry. He's so terribly sorry, but the damage is done. Frodo has run from him like he's an orc.

There are actual orcs. Everywhere. He doesn't know where they came from but he finds Merry and Pippin. He fights to protect them. For a while, it seems like he will be enough, for this at least. (All his life, he has not been enough. Not enough to protect Gondor. Not enough to persuade Aragorn that it is worth protecting. Not enough to resist the temptation of the Ring.)

Once again, he isn't enough. He loses.

He watches them be dragged away, shouting for him as he kneels, helpless, struggling for breath against the arrows piercing his chest.

And then. And then, for the first time in who knows how long (perhaps for the first time ever) someone takes the weight off of Boromir's shoulders. Aragorn arrives. Aragorn fights to protect him, and promises to defend Gondor in his place. He promises, I will not let our people fall.

For the first time since he first realised what was happening to his country, Boromir has real hope. Perhaps Aragorn can do what he couldn't. Perhaps Boromir never needed to win the war. He held out until Aragorn came, made sure that the promised king of legend had a country to return to, and perhaps...perhaps that was enough.

Maybe Gondor will survive this. Boromir won't, but that's alright, if his people (his brother) do.

He swears his allegiance to Aragorn now, taking back his words at the Council, with the last of his breath.

Then he dies.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hello!! could you write about spencer catching sunshine reader during a sad time? like perhaps reader has very rarely shown spencer what she gets like when shes sad, so when he catches her, she is stubborn at first and doesn't want to open up, but eventually eases into it? thank you :))

Cw: mentions of parents venting to their kids, being sad

Wc: 1.4k

You’re not sure what you'd done to deserve a day like today exactly, only that you’d woken up and from the very first moment you’d had a hard time of it.

Your planned outfit had a stain, you forgot to make extra dinner to have for lunch, you cut your ankle shaving and then your mom called.

Calls with her have a habit of being fifty fifty. It can either be a good call, or it can be a call where she uses you as a sounding board for all her negative thoughts, worries and despite the many times you’ve told her to stop, she hasn’t.

It’s safe to say by the time you walk into work you don’t even have the energy to smile- you’re using it all not to cry.

Not even your back up outfit is working it's magic- a green top with brown pants, your favourite outfit to feel like a hobbit.

Emily calls you into the round table room as soon as you walk in, giving you a little more reason to avoid Spencer’s curious gaze.

Spencer doesn’t really take into account just how bad your mood is till you volunteer to stay in Quantico with Penelope rather than go out in the field.

“Y/n?” He touches your elbow gently as the rest of the team go for their bags. It’s just you and him in the round table room and your hands shake from holding back tears.

Spencer hasn’t ever seen you this upset, sure during a case you’re mad at the things you guys read and uncover, but this is a different type of upset and Spencer doesn’t really know what to do with it.

He just knows he wants to make it better.

“Yeah Spence?” You try to keep your voice even, knowing he’ll only worry more and the case needs his worry more than you do.

“What’s going on? You haven’t looked up at me once and you keep scrunching your nose. You also haven’t smiled since you got here.” He’s a profiler to his core, but this is just you and him, of course he’d notice everything.

You shrug, scrunching your nose again. “The case isn’t exactly something to be happy about, is it?”

Spencer knows what you’re trying to do, but you don’t get the tone right for anger- you just sound defeated.

“Either way, you and Penelope have a knack for smiling through it and you haven’t even tried once.” Ever soft, ever tender are the words that escape him.

He bends his knees a little, chasing your eyes. “What is it?” Spencer’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, wanting nothing more than to help.

“Spencer, can we talk about it when the case is over?” You can feel the pressure of the tears behind your eyes and you don’t want to cry here.

Not where anyone can see.

You’d much rather do it at home, where you can curl up under your blanket and sob until you lose your voice.

“Alright, but we will talk; yeah?” You nod and Spencer squeezes your forearm, a firm and soothing pressure on your skin.

The case takes a day and a half to wrap up, and you’re barely holding it together- Penelope lent you her favourite unicorn desk pal for the entire case and also her fluffy pen.

“I’m sorry, babe. You’ll feel better once this is over and you can have a good cry.” She says, your head on her shoulder as you wait for your team to come back.

You nod, “How badly do you think Spencer will react if I start crying now?” Your throat is tight with emotion- honestly you’re not sure if it’s just from your previous day or also the exhaustion of working into the next evening.

“Oh, pretty bad,” she says and you chuckle, a few tears rolling freely down your face. “But I think he’ll be more worried.”

Before you can say anything, there’s a knock on Penelope’s door and you already know who it is- only Spencer knocks. You wipe away the tears hoping that will be enough to hide them from Spencer- it likely won’t be.

“See you tomorrow Pen,” you say, gathering your things and opening the door.

Spencer looks more tired than you expected and you have to assume you don’t look so rested either.

“You’re back,” he nods, taking your satchel bag from you and reaching for your hand.

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, leading you to a secluded spot in the hall. Spencer doesn’t say it, but your eyes bare all your emotions even if your face is neutral. They’re red and they’ve got a sad look about them, just completely and utterly exhausted. Spencer wants to help any way he can.

You debate how you should start, if you should just tell him about your bad day from beginning to end or if you should just tell him about your weird relationship with your mother and let him fill in the blanks from there.

You decide it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer because he never had you guessing when he’s sharing things so you won’t do it to him.

“Um,” you can already feel the pressure building behind your eyes again. “Yesterday was off to a terrible start, nothing was going quite right from the moment my feet hit the floor.”

Spencer nods, listening quietly as you wring your hands tightly. He takes them easily, holding them in his own and stroking the skin on the back of your hand.

“Then my mom called which could really go either way, and I had to listen to her complain about my dad and every other thing in her life and it gives me a lot of anxiety hearing some of the things and she just wouldn’t stop.”

Your tears are rolling freely now and Spencer pulls you to his chest, fear of germs be damned.

He quiets his own feelings about you crying and about the way you sound recounting your day.

“She just says these things like I’m supposed to be the one to fix them and I can’t and she’s mad that I can’t and it just messes with me sometimes.”

Spencer can deduce what you’re too kind to say- it isn’t your fault or your problem and you shouldn’t be made to feel like it’s your responsibility to make it right.

Your hands shake against Spencer’s back and he sighs, squeezing you just a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry,” his hands coast up and down your back, massaging at the nape of your neck when he reaches there. “I’m sorry she puts it on you, and I know that you’re aware it isn’t your problem to solve but you can’t help that either. Maybe over time she’ll come to realise that you can’t solve all of the things she tells you.”

You nod, trying to stop hiccuping against him. “M’sorry about your shirt Spence.” He laughs, nose in your hair as he holds you.

“It’s okay,” you sniffle harshly trying to clear your sinus. “Want to come over and watch Lord of The Rings?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been there- you’ve spent nights there after drinks with the team and movie nights just the two of you.

All the same it’s a shocking proposal from Spencer right after a case, you know he likes to decompress in his own way.

You gasp, leaning back from his arms a little. It’s hard to miss the care displayed so clearly in his gaze. It’s harder to fight the urge to kiss him. “The extended versions?” Spencer notes that you’ve a little more spark in your tone, a little more life in your eyes.

“Yeah, I think we can make it through the entire trilogy if we hurry.” There’s a grin on his lips as he says it.

“Spencer, don’t play with me here. We’re talking serious business.” He laughs, hiking your bag higher on his shoulder as he watches you wipe your tears.

“I’m not playing. Is your go-bag full or do you want to stop by your place on the way to mine?” He hopes secretly that you don’t have your own sleep clothes, it’s a selfish want to see you in one of his shirts or even a cardigan.

“I have clothes, we can go straight there. And you’re driving, you have all the maps in your head with the shortest routes.”

Spencer nods, like he was ever going to make you drive. “Plus you’re a hazard on the road, absolute chaos behind a wheel.”

Spencer feels his chest lighten when your laugh explodes from you, loud and so like yourself as you wait for the elevator to open.

[itsonlydana]

hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!

Lattes and Love | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of

tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff

word count: 2,7k

an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.

Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.

You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.

You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.

These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.

There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.

The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.

When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.

"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."

It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.

"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.

"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."

You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.

"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:

"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."

You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"

Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.

You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.

Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.

"Oat, please."

You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.

The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"

Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."

Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.

And created the perfect heart.

You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.

It's just coffee.

But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?

So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"

He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"

"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."

"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."

"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.

The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.

You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"

"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.

Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.

You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.

"Could I get your name?"

"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"

Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.

A soft hum.

Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.

Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.

"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.

The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.

"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.

He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.

The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.

You sighed.

For good measure, you even glared at the sign.

Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.

It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.

Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.

On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.

On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.

The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:

"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"

"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:

"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"

"Yes, I am vegetarian–"

The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.

Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.

"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"

Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.

Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.

You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.

It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.

It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[nytb]

Flying Private Part 2

A half season filled with pastries and about as much romance as in “The Hobbit” book later, Alexia decided to one up her gift-giving.

Repeating the usual routine - Alexia embarked the private jet with a pep in her step – leaving a simple paper bag on top of the closest seat to the cabin, as usual. This time? No ensaimada was in sight. That beautiful doughy pastry dusted with a delightful sugar powder that Y/N adored. A simple box took it’s place inside the paper bag.

That was it, the hard part was done, or so Alexia thought.

An usual talkative Y/N entered the jet, starting polite conversation with all crew members, making a bee line for the cabin – the pilot stood dead on her tracks as she opened the bag. Was it guilt? Maybe disappointment? Surely the pilot wasn’t sad about the gift switch-up?

Oh- yeah, that’s it. Y/N pouted in Alexia’s direction. This was new.

“Open it” the midfielder instructed, a grin from ear to ear displayed on her face. Alexia was beyond proud of herself. For the first time in her interactions with Y/N, Alexia felt confident. Who wouldn’t like a watch?

“I can’t accept this Alexia” and that was all hopes out the window now. The midfielder always found a way to get on Y/N’s bad graces. What was so bad about a watch?

“It’s- It’s just a watch” the midfielder pleaded.

“Alexia, it’s a Rolex”

Oh- that makes more sense now.

Regardless, Alexia’s taste was impeccable. A simple gold bathed watch, a beautiful black plate decorated with small diamonds – representing the stars in the sky – It was the perfect gift for a pilot.

Realizing where she went wrong; that watch was probably worth Y/N’s rent for a full year, Alexia downplayed it’s value.

“They gifted it to me a while back, it’s been collecting dust ever since”

Little did the midfielder know, the receipt was still inside that very box.

“You see, I would believe you” the pilot approached Alexia “If only you hadn’t left this little, probably information-less piece of paper in here” Y/N’s voice filled with sass - she had deciphered Alexia.

That was bad.

“Oh wow” Malcolm, Y/N’s closest college, approached; inspecting the watch – taking all it’s beauty in – “Whoever gifted you this must like you, a lot”

Yup, it got even worse just then. Talk about someone rubbing salt in a wound.

For some reason, unbeknownst to us – not really but here we are – the trip felt a little too long. Random stares into teammates, a thoughtful Alexia pondered on how she could turn the situation around.

What had she done now? Is it that bad to gift a random pilot a simple watch? Ok, maybe it wasn’t a simple watch – and sure – it wasn’t just a random pilot; it was Y/N.

The sweet sound of wheels hitting the tarmac, the cute but scary bump as the plane landed – they had arrived.

The beautiful night sky with the beaming stars hiding among the clouds, Y/N stared up as she got out of the jet “Damn, nothing beats the beauty of a night sky”

“I know of something that can beat it” the confident Alexia was back.

“I told you, I can’t accept it”, yes just another hit to the abdomen delivered by yours truly, Y/N.

As the cute but aloof pilot made her way to the airport check-in a mischievous Malcolm approached “Something tells me that she wasn’t talking about the watch”

[yugimoto]

chilchuck cosplay rundown / tutorial! I say tutorial loosely cause I didn't take any progress photos...but hopefully some of this helps someone!

I received a couple messages on instagram about this cosplay so I thought it'd be easier to make a post about it! here's a little rundown for anybody who needs it...!

I only had a week to make this costume so there isn't a ton of actual sewing involved! (I got most of the materials in advance)

the main part's essentially just a big quilt - I used a faux suede fabric (which was a little stretchy, I really don't recommend this but it was the best colour match I could find with my time limit! I think it would've come out a lot smoother using something without stretch!) I used 2 ounce wadding/batting! the process is just measuring a bunch of rectangles, using stick and spray to glue the wadding between the two fabrics, and then sewing along all the lines. time consuming but it's not hard!

I cut the quilt I'd made into two rectangles, essentially you have two blankets - then I measured the neck and armholes based on a tank style dress I owned. if you're a little unsure about this you can make a mockup first before cutting the real thing! then I sewed the shoulders together, now it's just one long blanket with a head hole!

I ended up trimming the sides of the front half before the next bit to help it conform to my body a little better but I had to wear it backwards on the day for reasons I'll explain in a minute T__T

next I sew bias tape down the sides and around the neck hole, I folded the bottom ends and sewed them by hand to hide the stitches. you could probably just use bias around the whole thing but I was low on materials!

the buckles at the sides are literally just watch straps. the original listing I bought from's gone now but I'm pretty sure these are the exact same thing. I bought 16mm and trimmed the ends a little, I attached them using gorilla superglue!

the gloves are these gloves with the fingers cut off, any brown leather gauntlet style glove will do, and the scarf's one I found on vinted. it was a long scarf originally, I zigzag stitched down where I wanted it to end, cut it, then sewed the two ends together. the stitching's a little wonky but you can't really tell when it's folded over!

the belt's from amazon and the pouch is this one from aliexpress - I already had one of these for casual wear, it's a little foraging bag! it folds out into a bigger pouch!

I didn't take photos but the shirt's just one I found on vinted and the jeans are topshop joni jeans I'm pretty sure! the boots are just a pair I found secondhand and hot glued a strip of pleather to!

my wig is this one in chestnut brown, I always use coscraft for wigs they're my favourite! I trimmed it a little shorter and used thinning scissors over the whole wig!

last but not least is the ears. I almost didn't use these and I'm so glad I did! I felt so silly and cute wearing them! I used these ears, but searching "prosthetic big ears" should come up with others if you do a little digging! I don't have any experience with prosthetics aside from a pair of hobbit ears I wore a few years back for halloween but they're not too tricky to apply.

I trimmed the edges down a little and applied my foundation to them, powdered them to seal it and then added a little blush to the tips. I used ben nye prosthetic adhesive to glue them on! glue on my ears and onto the prosthetic ears, let it get tacky then just held them in place until they stuck.

be careful with the adhesive when you're applying it because my sibling accidentally spilled it down my costume... that's why I ended up wearing it backwards on the day...

I was worried I wouldn't be able to hear with them on but it's not too bad! cons are loud anyway and I'm autistic so the slight noise cancelling effect wasn't bad at all!

another piece of advice I'd give is to buy one of these style neck fans, you can buy them on amazon! I wore this during the day underneath my scarf and it helped a lot!

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Knight Bus

Words: 981

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius had sent his owl, Queenie, to James before he’d left, asking him to get in touch with Remus and telling him that he hoped that the Potters’ offer of a place to stay still stood.

As he slowly dragged his trunk onto the pavement, he looked up at the place he used to consider home. Regulus was watching, expressionless, from Sirius’ bedroom window. He hoped with every fibre of his being that Reg would realise how toxic their family was sooner rather than later. He told him that he could owl him, or if they were at school, talk to him, anytime.

He didn’t want to leave him. Even if he was a massive twat. Most fourteen-year-olds were twats, he reasoned, he definitely was, but he wished Regulus could just overcome the twattishness for an afternoon and come with him. Get away.

He’d be long gone by the time Walburga and Orion noticed he was missing, and although they would know where he’d gone, he knew that once he got to the Potters’, he’d be safe.

He stuck out his wand and a large purple bus popped out of nowhere, making Sirius jump.

“Alright?” The conductor said with a half smile, “Need a hand?”

“Please.” They managed to get his trunk onto the bus and under a bed frame. "Thank you." He said, realising that he'd barely contributed. He felt so shaky.

“No worries, kid. Where you off to?” He looked down at Sirius, now perched on the edge of the bed.

“Uh, Potter Manor, on The Lizard, please.” The man nodded and exchanged a ticket for Sirius’ money. “Been in a fight?”

Sirius had completely forgotten how awful he must look. To start with he hadn’t eaten in almost five days and had only slept in small intervals during that time. The final blow had been Bellatrix announcing that Sirius was gay over lunch (which he wasn’t allowed to eat, but forced to sit through anyway) and Sirius simply not having the energy to deny it anymore.

He’d healed two broken ribs himself but forgot about his face. He pressed a hand to his nose and was alarmed when the blood looked fresh. He hoped it wouldn’t worry James and his parents too much. Honestly, his face didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as his muscles did. It was always the same after she Crucio-ed him, the pain would linger for days. But she'd never get to do it again.

“Something like that,” Sirius said quietly. “You should see the other guy.”

The conductor huffed out a laugh and headed back to the front of the bus.

Sirius pulled a book out of his bag. Remus had lent him The Hobbit last term and he’d picked up a copy of The Lord of the Rings last week and he was hooked.

Before he knew it, the bus swerved into the lane outside Potter Manor. The front door flew open and to his surprise, Remus, not James, was the one rushing toward him. He helped him get his trunk off the bus, then threw his arms around Sirius making him wince slightly, his ribs were still bruised. He clung to Remus, burying his face in the curve of his neck, suddenly concerned that he might cry. A short while after the bus clattered away, Remus stepped back and got a good look at Sirius.

“Holy shit,” he said under his breath. His brows tilted inwards and his mouth dropped open. He looked devastated.

“I’m fine.” Sirius desperately wanted to believe it. “It’s just a few cuts and bruises. I'm mostly ok.”

Remus wiped at Sirius’ still sticky nose with his sleeve, frowning. “You look like shit. You’re not fine.” He placed a hand on either side of Sirius’ face and tilted it gently, assessing the damage. Sirius tried his hardest not to lean into the touch and was fairly unsuccessful. “What did they do to you?”

“Remus, please, don’t.” Sirius shook his head. “Look, I’m out now. For good. I’ll be seventeen in November, so I never have to go back.” He paused, “I’ll tell you and Prongs everything later, I promise. I’m just so fucking exhausted.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ eyes bored into him before softening, He ghosted his thumb across Sirius’ bruised, prominent cheekbone. “Let’s get you inside before he has a coronary. I left them making your bed up.”

He took one end of Sirius’ trunk and between them, mostly thanks to Remus, they carried it to the door. Before they entered, he set it down, looking at Remus.

“I really appreciate you being here.” He pressed his lips together as Remus waited for him to continue. “I know I fucked everything up so badly last term. I’m still more sorry than I can put into words. I just— I didn’t ask James to tell you to manipulate you or anything. I didn't expect you to come, I just thought that a part of you would maybe want to know I was safe.”

Remus' face was unreadable for a moment until he sighed, “What you did was so thoughtless and reckless.” Sirius nodded sadly, “But there was no way that I would ever not be by your side for this.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think it means that I’m ready to forgive you.” He said quietly. “You were so fucking vague in your letter, and I know that was probably self-preservation, but the thought of them hurting you made my blood boil and I had to physically stop myself from showing up there. I came straight here.” His cheeks were pink, “I’m saying… that I think I understand how you snapped and told Snape in a moment of rage, or whatever.”

“Oh.” Was all that Sirius could manage.

“I’m so glad to see you, Padfoot.” Remus’ eyes flicked up and met his. “I’m so glad you’re mostly ok."

[nyxshadowhawk]

I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part One

This is really for the benefit of my mother and sister, who are both diehard Lord of the Rings fans, but who don’t want to read The Silmarillion. My mother remembers picking it up with the expectation that it was another LotR book, and being disappointed that it read more like a history textbook than an actual novel. That’s because it’s not a novel, it’s a mythological epic along the same lines as the Homeric epics or the Epic of Gilgamesh, that tells the history of the first age of Tolkien’s world. It occurred to me that I am exactly the type of person Tolkien wrote The Silmarillion for — a person who knows folklore well enough to appreciate what he was trying to do, and recognize the conventions that he uses. I’m a person who went and applied to Yale’s graduate program in medieval studies (and got in!) just so that I could use the historical, cultural, and literary background of the Middle Ages to inform my own fiction. So, forgive me for saying it, but who’s better equipped to appreciate The Silmarillion than me? And it’s not as long as I thought, with only about 400 pages, which feels really doable after having read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. So, I’m going to paraphrase the whole of The Silmarillion, for all those who want all the juicy Tolkien lore but don’t want to read it themselves.

Before I get into it, here’s a bit of background, for those less versed in Tolkien lore: The Silmarillion is Tolkien’s magnum opus, which he spent his entire life working on and never properly finished. It could be called a “prequel” to The Lord of the Rings, but that would be misleading. It’s intended to be an original mythology for England, from before recorded history. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are both small episodes from this enormous mythological cycle, and neither is really all that significant in the overall story of Tolkien’s world (which is probably why they actually got finished, and published). The Silmarillion and The Hobbit were originally meant to be completely separate projects, which is why they differ so much stylistically, but Tolkien eventually decided to combine them into the same world. The Lord of the Rings fully integrates the world of The Hobbit and that of The Silmarillion, with copious callbacks to both. (The reason Tolkien wrote it at all is because his publisher wanted a Hobbit sequel and not whatever weird thing The Silmarillion was.) The Silmarillion was not actually published until after Tolkien’s death (because he was never ready to officially declare it finished), and it was edited together by his son Christopher.

Christopher had to do a lot of reworking in order to make the narratives more fluid and consistent with everything Tolkien had written about the world. In that way, The Silmarllion kind of does resemble the ancient epics that it emulates — it’s cobbled together out of its existing material, with many pieces missing or compensated for. Christopher writes,

It became clear to me that to attempt to present, within the covers of a single book, the diversity of the materials — to show The Silmarillion as in truth a continuing and evolving creation extending over more than half a century — would in fact lead only to the confusion and the submerging of what is essential.

Like any mythology, The Silmarillion is fundamentally organic, so what Christopher did is the equivalent of taking a bunch of Ancient Greek primary sources and cobbling them together into something like Ovid’s Metamorphoses: A coherent narrative that arranges all the basic stories from the mythology in chronological order, making it much more comprehensible, but also stripping away all of its inconsistency and nuance. That actually makes it more authentic. The fact that one person was able to produce anything close to the complexity of an entire oral tradition is extraordinary.

I’m not going in blind. I have a general idea of what The Silmarillion is about, and I’m familiar with general Tolkien lore through osmosis (mostly thanks to Quora). I’m interested to see if my initial impressions hold up, how much of what I know about wider Tolkien lore actually comes from this book. I know the Fall of Numenor’s in it. Is Beren and Luthien’s whole romance in it, or is that only in the Unfinished Tales? What about Elendil and the formation of the half-elven line that would eventually end with Aragorn? What about Annatar? I guess I’ll find out.

Ainulindalë: The Music of the Ainur In which Melkor learns that it’s really disrespectful to deliberately sing the wrong thing during a choral concert.

In the beginning there was God, whom Tolkien calls Eru or Ilúvatar. Ilúvatar creates beings called the Ainur, which are sort of like gods and sort of like angels, and tells them to sing for him. Initially, each Ainu only comprehends the part of Ilúvatar that it represents, but eventually they start to understand each other, and gradually they start to understand Ilúvatar’s big vision of the universe. They start to harmonize, and their singing creates the world. I’m only a few paragraphs in, and it’s already so beautiful I could cry.

The Music of the Ainur by Jef Murray

The first thing I’m reminded of is the Platonic (and Kabbalistic) idea of emanation — God creates higher beings that are manifestations of his thoughts, and then the higher beings create the physical world, which is a manifestation of their thoughts. Magic in general follows this same pattern of manifesting one’s ideas in physical reality. There’s so much more I could say about that, but this is meant to be a summary and not a theological dissertation. I’m betting it’s not a coincidence, though.

The Ainur are made of Ilúvatar’s ideas, and all of them express Ilúvatar’s ideas through their singing. But — oh no! — one of the Ainur comes up with some ideas of his own, and decides to sing about his own ideas in order to glorify himself. If you hadn’t guessed already, Melkor is this universe’s Satan. Just like Lucifer, Melkor is one of the most powerful and glorious of the Ainur, and he’s a Special-Chosen-One-Magical-Girl because he has a little bit of each of the other Ainur’s powers (i.e. he shares in all of their divine domains). Melkor introduces some discordant notes into his singing, which introduces imperfection to the universe.

Ainulindalë by Paontaur

Most of the Ainur who are in Melkor’s choral section are like, “who the hell is singing off-key?” But some of them like his melody better than Ilúvatar’s, and start singing along with him. This makes matters worse. Ilúvatar simply smiles and starts conducting a new song that’s similar to the first one, but a little different, to accommodate the discordant notes. Melkor and his choir start singing louder in response, and the entire universe becomes the equivalent of a gorgeous violin concerto and a heavy metal riff playing at the same time, each at full volume. To get an idea of what this might sound like, I listened to “The Cloud Atlas Sextet” and the guitar solo from “Seven Nation Army” at the same time, and… it kinda worked, in a weird way, but it definitely sounded like the two songs were competing with each other. Not easy to endure for long, so, a good portion of the Ainur stop singing.

Ilúvatar lifts his other hand, and another song starts up, interweaving with the first. One is slow and sorrowful, the other is loud and abrasive, and together they drown out Melkor’s evil guitar riff. Raising both hands, Ilúvatar ends the music in a single chord that is deeper than the abyss and higher than the sky.

Eru Ilúvatar by Elveo

Ilúvatar addresses the Ainur, telling them that they will now see the things that were created with their music. To Melkor, he says, “If you try to change my music, you’ll find that you’ve actually made my music even better in ways that you can’t even conceive of. Everything you do is going to serve me anyway, so go ahead and try!” So, we get an answer to the Problem of Evil right off the bat. Discord is allowed to exist because, in a roundabout way, it improves the things around it. Every story needs a villain to be interesting, and Melkor is the villain of the story that Ilúvatar is telling.

Melkor feels ashamed, and then resentful. Ilúvatar gives the Ainur the ability to see (when before they were only able to hear), and shows them a vision of the world they made with their singing: Arda. Each recognizes the part of Arda that it personally sang into existence. They see some of the past, present, and future, and they also see things that they hadn’t conceived of. One of these things is a vision of the “Children of Ilúvatar,” the races of Elves and Men. Ilúvatar brought them into existence with the third song (the bombastic-sounding one), and the Ainur didn’t have any part in creating them. Most of the Ainur immediately love the people, and understand more of the mind of Ilúvatar through watching them.

Melkor and his followers, most of which are the most mighty of the Ainur, focus all their attention on Arda (as opposed to anything else in the universe). Melkor convinces himself that his goal is to help the Children of Ilúvatar in by putting the world in order, but yeah… sure, buddy. His real goal is to subdue all the Children of Ilúvatar to his own will instead of that of Ilúvatar.

The rest of the Ainur are very impressed by Arda, and especially by the sea, which contains the distant echo of the Music (which is why all the Children of Ilúvatar feel called by it). The Ainur that sang the water into being is called Ulmo (no, not Elmo), and of all the Ainur, Ilúvatar taught him the most about music. Each of the other Ainur was given a different concept to comprehend and sing into existence. The air and wind was created by Manwë, who is the noblest of the Ainu. The earth was created by Aulë, who’s almost as skilled as Melkor, but his sense of pride is in making beautiful things, instead of in himself.

Ilúvatar shows Ulmo that, although Melkor tried his best to destroy the idea of Water through his singing, all he did was make it even cooler in the manifest world. Melkor created Cold to freeze the water, but all that did was create beautiful snowflakes and whirls of frost, which Ulmo never even conceived of. Melkor created Heat to evaporate the water, but all that did was create the beautiful clouds and the music of rain falling. The clouds have the double benefit of bringing Ulmo closer to his friend Manwë (it probably says something about me that I read “thy friend, whom thou lovest” and immediately thought, SHIIIP!).

So, therefore, everything Melkor does to screw up Ilúvatar’s creation ends up improving it in the long run, and that’s why Ilúvatar allows Melkor to exist.

Arda does not actually exist yet, it only exists as an idea that has been described in the singing. So, Ilúvatar formally begins the manifestation of Arda with an epic Let There Be Light moment: “Eä! Let these things Be!” A light appears, and the light is the whole of the universe.

Many of the Ainur choose to remain with Ilúvatar, but a certain number of them descended into the manifest universe, Eä. Making this choice requires them to give up a significant amount of their power and ability for as long as Eä exists. That’s what being alive and in the manifest world does — it shoves you down into a smaller version of yourself and limits the things that you can do. (The Wizards experience this same thing, but on an even smaller scale.) The Ainur that decided to go to Eä are called the Valar, and they function mostly like gods and goddesses.

The Valar are disappointed to discover that the world doesn’t actually exist yet. The singing just conceived of it as an idea, and Ilúvatar kickstarted its manifestation, but now the Valar have to actually build it. So, they begin to painstakingly shape the primordial matter of Eä into Arda, the world as we know it. Manwë, Ulmo, and Aulë do most of the work, but Melkor is there too. Melkor is that guy who doesn’t actually help with the group project, but then takes credit for the whole thing once it’s done. While the other three are building the world, he offers unhelpful suggestions and changes things to make it suit his own vision. When Arda is young and covered in fire, Melkor figuratively plants a little flag on it and names it Melkor-land. Manwë, who was the lead singer of the second melody that Ilúvatar created in response to Melkor, is really pissed off and brings a host of other spirits down to Arda to kick Melkor out. No one gets to claim credit for a group project that everyone else worked on! Melkor goes off into a corner to sulk, and leaves Arda alone… for the time being.

The rest of the Valar give themselves physical forms. Because they’re all excited for the arrival of the Children of Ilúvatar, they base their appearances on the Elves and Men. Their humanlike forms, gender, and so forth are about as inconsequential to them as our clothing is to us, and they don’t always bother to “wear” their humanoid forms. Melkor sees them walking around on Arda in these beautiful forms that emulate the people and the elements of the world itself, and is even more resentful than ever. So, he gives himself his own physical form, and because he’s motivated by spite, his form is dark and scary instead of bright and beautiful. He appears as something like an ice-capped volcano, all fire and ice, striding through the sea.

What follows is the first war between the Valar and Melkor. The Elves don’t know very much about this, so, little of it is recorded. What we know is that Melkor went around and petulantly undid whatever the Valar were trying to do, like your annoying sibling who keeps knocking down your tower of blocks every time you finish building it. Whatever the Valar tried to make, Melkor would destroy. If the Valar made a valley, Melkor inverted it into a mountain range. If they carved out an ocean, Melkor “spilled” it. Everything in the world is therefore corrupted or somehow altered by Melkor, instead of matching the Valar’s original idea for it, but in the end the group project is finished and it comes close enough.

Music of Ainur by breath-art

Valaquenta: Account of the Valar and Maiar according to the lore of the Eldar In which we’re introduced to the T̶w̶e̶l̶v̶e̶ ̶O̶l̶y̶m̶p̶i̶a̶n̶s̶ Kings and Queens of the Valar, and the Maiar.

This is what every fantasy writer wishes they could do — just exposit on the lore of their gods! I wish I could explain all about my fictional gods and how cool they are at the start of my novels, but I’m not Tolkien. Maybe someday I’ll be famous enough that someone will buy a book like this one that consists of nothing but lore.

Now, imagine that you’re opening the D’Aulaires’ Book of Elven Myths, and reading about the great elven gods (or more specifically, the gods as the Elves know them).

Valar by @phobso

As I usually do with pantheons of gods, allow me to introduce you to the pantheon of Arda! These are the Kings and Queens of the Valar, and there are seven of each:·

Manwë: The god of the sky and wind. He’s the High King of the Gods, just like Zeus. He has the epithet Súlimo, “breather.” Manwë sort of replaced Melkor as the Ainur who best understands Ilúvatar (making him roughly equivalent to the Archangel Michael, if Melkor is Satan).

Varda: The goddess of stars and light, Manwe’s wife. She lives with him in a tower on top of the tallest mountain (Taniquetil), and Being with each other improves their perception, so that they can see and hear everything. Varda hated Melkor before everyone else hated Melkor, and thought he was an asshole even before the Music was sung. The Elves call her Elbereth, and she’s their most important goddess.

Ulmo: The god of water, all water. He spends most of his time in the depths of the ocean, so he doesn’t see the rest of the Valar much and doesn’t bother to take on a human form most of the time. When he does, it is terrifying to see his gigantic form rise out of the waves and hear his voice, which is as deep as the ocean. Despite having disengaged from the other gods, he still loves the Elves and Men. He keeps tabs on them through all the freshwater rivers, lakes, springs, and fountains. Sometimes he wanders on shore in disguise and plays horns made of white shells, which fill whoever hears them with a longing for the sea (like Legolas).

Aulë: The god of rock and metal, precious stones, mountains, smithing, craftsmanship, and terrain. Aulë is the most similar to Melkor in temperament, because both wanted to make things of their own and have others praise them for it. It was mostly Aulë’s job to fix whatever Melkor broke during the creation of Arda, so he hates Melkor as much as anyone else. Melkor, meanwhile, lost his ability to create anything of his own — he can only corrupt or destroy things that others have made, so he especially envies Aulë.

Yavanna: The goddess of nature and agriculture, Aulë’s wife. She usually appears as a woman in a green dress, but sometimes she appears as a Tree of Life who connects the groundwater with the sky. She has the epithet Kementári, “queen of the earth.”

The Fëanturi: The masters of spirits, two brothers who rule over Death and Sleep. They’re called Mandos and Lorién, but these aren’t their actual names—they’re the names of the places they live. Their actual names are Námo and Irmo. (I’m not really sure why they were introduced to us by the names of their domains, but linguistics is weird, and Tolkien fully replicated its weirdness.)

Namó/Mandos: The god of the dead, who lives in the Halls of Mandos, in the far west of Valinor He forgets nothing, knows everything, and knows the fates of everyone. It’s his job to pass judgement upon the beings that live in Arda after they die (or… whatever the elves have instead of death? A sort of purgatory), and he works under Manwë’s authority.

Irmo/Lórien: is the god of dreams, who lives in the gardens of Lórien (now you know where the name “Lothlórien” comes from). The Valar often take breaks in the heavenly world of Lórien whenever Arda becomes too much from them.

Vairë: “The Weaver,” the goddess of history, who records all of time in her webs. She’s Namó’s wife, and lives in Mandos with him.

Estë: The goddess of sleep and healing. Like her husband, she is gentle, refreshing, and not at all like Morpheus.

Nienna: The goddess of sorrow and grief. She mourns incessantly for everything Melkor has ever done, and everything that was hurt or lost as a result. On the slightly brighter side, she’s also the goddess of compassion and hope. She lives even further west than Mandos, and the spirits trapped in Mandos supplicate her for her wisdom. She is Namó and Irmo’s sister.

Tulkas: The god of strength and heroism, who came to Arda specifically to help the other Valar fight Melkor. His epithet is Astaldo, “the valiant.” He has long golden hair and a golden beard, doesn’t need a horse because he can outrun everything, and mostly just punches stuff.

Nessa: The goddess of speed, Tulkas’ wife. She likes running and dancing, and deer follow her everywhere she goes.

Oromë: The god of the hunt and Nessa’s brother. He prefers to stalk around Middle-earth, hunting Melkor’s minions, rather than to live in Valinor with the other Valar. His horse’s name is Nahar. He has the epithet Aldaron or Tauron, “Lord of Forests.” He has a magic hunter’s horn that sounds like the sun rising or like lightning.

Vána: The goddess of youth and flowers, Yavanna’s younger sister and Oromë’s wife.

The influence from the Olympians is obvious, but this little section hints at a lot more depth and complexity in each of these beings (well, the male ones, and about half of the female ones). I’m really interested to see how they develop from here.

In addition to the Valar, there are spirits called the Maiar, which are “of the same order as the Valar but of less degree.” I suppose that means that they’re also Ainur? It’s hard to tell, but regardless, they’re the direct underlings of the Valar and they act as intermediaries, so, we could call them lower-ranking angels. There isn’t any specified number of Maiar, and most of them don’t have names. A handful of them do:

Ilmarë: Varda’s lady-in-waiting.

Eonwë: The herald of Manwë.

Ossë: One of Ulmo’s underlings, the spirit of stormy and choppy seas, who lives near the coasts of the ocean.

Uinen: Ossë’s wife, the spirit of calm seas, who protects marine life. Sailors pray to her to calm the waves, and her hair spreads throughout all the waters. Numenoreans in particular worshipped her. Ossë very nearly joined Melkor, but Uinen prevented this.

Melian: A handmaiden of both Vána and Estë, who lives in Lórien and tends the trees there. She’ll be important in Quenta Silmarillion.

Olorin: Another Maia who lives in Lórien, but he spent a lot of time with Nienna, who taught him compassion and patience. This made him the wisest of the Maiar. He’s not important to this story, but he is important to another story that you already know…

Then of course, there’s Melkor. His name means “who arises in might,” but because he’s evil, he doesn’t deserve to have this name. Instead, the Elves called him Morgoth, which sounds a lot scarier. Because he has some of the powers of all the other Ainur, he can affect all of their creations, but because he’s evil, he can’t do anything with them other than distort and corrupt them. Because he’s arrogant, spiteful, and fixated on ruling the world, this is all he ever does.

Melkor also has Maiar servants among his followers, whom he turned evil; they became fiery demons that the elves call “Valaraukar,” but that we know better as Balrogs. Most of Morgoth’s Maiar don’t have names either, but one of them does. His name is Mairon, which means “admirable,” “excellent,” or “precious.” He was originally one of Aulë’s Maiar, but left his service to join Morgoth, becoming only slightly less evil than Morgoth himself. The Elves decided that he also didn’t deserve his name, and called him Gorthaur the Cruel, or else a name that means (roughly) “abhorred” or “vile” — Sauron.

More to come!

[lululandd]

run devil run;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 662

warnings: angst? ish? ghost is a coward (again)

note: yall need to be nicer when asking for part 2’s, im glad yall like my stuff enough to want a continuation but damn dont just order me around lmao

summary: its just you two in a bookstore and he mistakes you for an employee.

Simon walked into the bookstore with the intention of getting The Hobbit™ to prank Soap on his birthday. He walked around the fiction aisle for ten minutes when he realised he had zoned out and wasted his time. His mind had decided it wanted to be somewhere else for the time being and so he looked for an employee instead.

He spotted you at the bargain bin, checking the back covers before placing them back in a neat row inside the bin. Walking closer, he heard you mutter to yourself how expensive these bargain books still are and assumed that you weren’t an employee. 

The front desk looked empty when he came in, and after a quick peek he saw it was still unoccupied. Maybe his assumption was wrong and you were an employee after all.

“I’m looking for The Hobbit.” He addressed you as he came closer.

He watches as you dig deep in the pile, tilting your head sideways from time to time while prodding around as you try and search for the book he was looking for. A few moments later you triumphantly hold it up and hand it to him.

“Thanks. You man the register too?”

Blinking slowly at him, he vaguely registered in the back of his mind that the woman sitting by the bargain bin might not be an employee, and just a random civilian that just wants to buy some cheap books. 

Fuck.

“I’m not an employee–” “Sorry I didn’t mean to–”

A smile involuntarily pulled at the corners of his mouth, “You looking for any specific books?” He asked as he pointed to the pile in front of you.

You hesitantly shake your head, “No, not really, no.”

He decided to be chatty today. He hasn’t heard any other noises in the bookstore, so it was still just you and him. There’s no point waiting alone when his mind runs around, it might go somewhere dark and he would like to avoid that.  “Why are you arranging the bin then?”

Simon Riley thanked his past self for wearing a mask because the incredulous look you gave him definitely made him grin from ear to ear. It’s so cute how you’re not shy with your facial expressions. He would love to play poker with you.

“Uh… No reason..?” Your tone lilted at the end, as if you’re unsure of your answer but he senses it’s because you want him to fuck off, kindly.

“Pick a few, they’re on me.”

As he hoped, your expression brightened, “For real?”

He nodded. At the same time, he heard someone come in and walked towards the cash register. 

You chose a book from the neat pile and handed it to him.

“I did say a few.” He insisted.

You shook your head, “No! One is more than enough, thank you so much.”

“I’m picking ‘em at random if you keep being stubborn.” 

His inner boy giggled at how you panic and quickly scan the pile once more. Grabbing two more, you half shoved it into his hands. “Here. Thankyou again.”

“One more.”

“I will run out of this store if I really have to take one more.”

He couldn’t help but bark out a laugh as he walked towards the front. Placing the books down on the counter, he asked the cashier “You got a habit of just leaving the store unmanned?”

“Sorry, had an emergency. Thanks for waiting.”

“All right.” He assures the man, before pointing at your books. “These are separate.” 

From his peripherals he can see you anxiously wait—shifting your weight from one foot to the other—and it threatens to pull sore memories of Tommy to the surface of his mind. If he stayed longer he knew he wouldn't be able to suppress the resurfacing thoughts of his brother so he took the book he was supposed to get for soap, threw cash on the table and walked out without looking back.

part ii.

[yallthemwitches]

Some Headcanons for Jily/MWPP that I will probably never use in a fanfic (so they will go here)

--Lily is pretty proud to be a muggleborn actually and tries to keep up as much as she can with particularly witch/mystical coded books and movies (which were very popular in the 70s). She's a fan of LOTR and (as stated in CitW) has watched Rosemary's Baby. James also is really interested in these things (sometimes byway of Lily, others just because he finds it amusing) and him and Sirius often enjoy when Lily shows them a particularly awful depiction of magic in muggle films. Lupin also really enjoys a good showing of "American Werewolf in London" once in a while. ( Maybe I will make a "marauder's favorite muggle movies list one day....")

--^ I sometimes have this outlandish idea that Lily was so good and charismatic about explaining muggle culture to her peers that Dumbledore considered offering her the Muggle Studies position after she graduated. This of course was derailed by the war. But Dumbledore himself was quite amused with Lily's knowledge and often attended when she would organize midnight showings of Wizard of Oz for a laugh in the common room. ( It was Dumbledore's favorite muggle film)

--Included in CitW but both Lily and the Marauders love listening to muggle music as well. The Beatles obviously, but Led Zeppelin and Bowie were also huge favorites ( Led Zeppelin being the reason Sirius knows what Lily was reading when he catches her with"The Hobbit" on the grounds one day---effectively shocking her). I like the idea that back before the war, the three broomsticks would have shows and during their 7th year Lily and James would sneak out to go to them (despite breaking head boy and girl duties). McGonnagall and Dumbledore were very aware they did this but never stopped them.

--I think Lily would have listened to basically everything. She really liked punk music as much as she liked the Beatles and this is what Sirius and her bond over a lot.

--- Remus ( without James' knowledge) would visit Lily on breaks semi regularly. Being half-muggle, he had a phone and had no issue being integrated into a muggle environment. For a while Lily's parents pushed for her to date him ("He's such a sweet and calm boy!") but she always shot it down, embarrassed that her parents couldn't understand that a platonic friendship was possible. Petunia felt ambivalent toward Remus which is better than she could say for any of the other Marauders.

--^ Lily had strong suspicions about Remus being a werewolf since back in 3rd year as Snape was constantly going on about it. Being his friend, she often tried to test the waters and give him little hints whenever they were together. Notably, she once played him The Cramps' I was a Teenage Werewolf and watched him get so uncomfortable, she dropped her prodding entirely.

---Lily initially felt worried about being welcomed into the Potter family. She was a muggleborn after all during a time where hating people of her birth was in fashion. Even if the Potter's themselves didn't care, their ties to other Wizarding family's might and she didn't want to cause problems. This was very quickly dispelled by James and his parents during her first visit there.

---Before Vernon knew she was a witch, he really took no issue with Lily. He even thought for a bit that his girlfriend was being harsh on her younger sister who, to his understanding, was shipped away to some hippie school in the country while Petunia got "a quality education." He pinned her as one of those "new age, drug loving, free loaders" until Petunia finally told him about her being a witch. From then on he went through varying stages of being afraid of her, then despising her---finally fully accepting Petunia's view that Lily was nothing but a freak who somehow mucked everything up every chance she could. ( probably will make it in to my fic)

--Peter had a bit of a crush on Lily and for this reason was quite scared of her. He didn't EVER want to tell James and when he was left alone to talk to her, he got so nervous he never really got much out. Lily found this amusing and cute, but didn't catch on that it was feelings but rather that he was just socially awkward. She often treated him like a little brother.

--I go back and forth on this a lot, but many people tried to date James and Lily at any given time. There was a while where rumors spread that Lily and Remus fancied each other ( much to James' dismay) but otherwise both would either go on some meaningless dates or outright dismiss any pursuers. This isn't to say that either of them let feelings get the best of them and snogged a person or two in their 4th or 5th year--it just never amounted to much.

--Slughorn loved Lily so much that he let her use the potions classroom after hours to practice and study ( being a prefect she never got in trouble for being out after hours). In the early years Snape and her would do this together, but by the 5th year, Lily had full dibs and would spend hours in the middle of the night working on things while listening to music. Once or twice James and the marauders( under his cloak ) would catch her there and James would want to linger a bit too long in secret to watch her sing along as she cut her ingredients.

Very Niche Hot Take incoming!

--Lily was a Manson Family supporter* and this can be directly tied into her troubled feelings about Snape becoming a death eater.

*After 1969 and the murder of Sharon Tate, many people ( including famous artists and writers like Joan Didion and John Waters) came out in support of NOT Manson himself, but the girls who were ultimately imprisoned for life for their acts. Their logic was that Manson had preyed upon very young girls who came from broken homes or were otherwise homeless or lost in life. He showed them compassion, love, and seduced them with a free thinking life where they could have power---as long as they followed his every word. Of course this brain washing ultimately led to the murder of innocent people. It's a very compelling argument about the power of human charisma and cults and is still debated to this day( John Waters' remains friends with the Manson girls behind bars and often speaks in court in support of their release).

I think this would have struck a cord with Lily as she watched her closest childhood friend turn to darkness. Snape also came from a broken home where he had no agency; of course he was seduced by the power that came with dark magic. I think this argument to "hate the orchestrator and not his puppets" gave Lily hope that he could "come back" one day.

--Lily and Sirius developed a very slow burning, but strong friendship. During the war and especially after the birth of Harry, Sirius would stay with Lily while James had to go on Order missions and would often be found curled up in dog form at the foot of the bed when Lily and Harry slept.

--During their 7th year, their friendship was also already strong and Sirius would often be seen wrapping his arms around her or her giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Despite this causing some whispers, it was ultimately clear they had a very tongue and cheek platonic relationship. At the early stages of their friendship, Sirius would try to intentionally bring up uncomfortable or awkward subjects to see if he could make her squirm, but lily was always a on board and Sirius deeply respected that.

--Sirius was a great dancer and him and Lily danced often together (and roped James in too by the end)

If I think of more I'll update this list. I might make a NSFW too, we will see ;)

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: A Long-Expected Party

There’s something so incredibly endearing about the slow, meandering beginning of LotR.

Even today—in a day and age when every author tries to grab you by the eyeballs in the first five words—Tolkien’s writing still has that gentle, irresistible draw that takes you by the hand and leads you slowly but surely into adventure. Something about a “birthday party of special magnificence” just appeals to all our inner children, I think; and the tiny mysteries, and the joy of a world of fantastical creatures living in peace and comfort, just adds to that. You want to go to Middle Earth, and you want to get lost in it. It’s like a lazy river at a water park; you wade in, get settled, and relax, and the next thing you know you’re far away from where you started.

All of that to say, Tolkien’s writing is goals and I aspire to be even a fraction of what this man was someday.

Anyway. To the bullet points!

Isn’t it hilarious how quick people are to begrudge one another their good fortune?? If Bilbo had been poor and died in a timely manner his neighbors would probably have liked him just fine, but he gets a lot of wealth and lives a long time and all the hobbits go >:-(

They’re not wrong to be suspicious, of course, but it’s still a biting social commentary. And very funny!

“As Mr. Baggins was generous with his money, most people were willing to forgive him his oddities and his good fortune.” 🤣

“You should come live with me so we can celebrate our birthday parties more comfortably together” belongs in the same category as C. S. Lewis’ “and they got so used to arguing that they married each other to keep doing it more conveniently”

“And suddenly, all the old people found that everyone actually WANTED to hear their rambling stories!”

GAFFER GAMGEE MY BELOVED

Hobbits are all so terribly prejudiced. What endearing morons.

Ooh, confirmation that Bilbo and Frodo look similar!

“There never was much to tell of him! … Till he was drownded.” “DROWNDED??”

I love that the only things we know about Drogo Baggins are that he was unremarkable and fat and married a strange woman

The Gaffer: “Thank goodness Mr. Bilbo saved young Mr. Frodo from those strange, dastardly Bucklanders…”

Meanwhile, Merry feels his eye Twitch and doesn’t know why 🤣

The spelling of jewels as “jools” is adorable for reasons I can’t describe

Tiny Gaffer Gamgee saw Bilbo come home from his Adventure!!

The Gaffer’s words are strangely prophetic. Sam did indeed land in trouble that was bigger than him—and thank goodness he did.

The Gaffer basically says here “if generosity is being strange, we could do with a lot more strangeness!” and honestly that’s a motto I want to live by

I love that Sam is most likely the one who started the rumor about the fireworks X-D

I wish we’d gotten to see the Dwarves visiting Bag End in the movies. It’s a shame they were cut. Imagine what cool costumes they could have had!

“G for grand!” and Gandalf’s smile. Ugh, my heart 🥹

Pity that September 22nd fell on a Friday this year. We were so close to it being a Thursday, like in the book! Oh well. Try again another year, I guess X-D

Are small business owners grumbling about your purchases from foreign parts?? Here’s an easy solution! Just BUY OUT THE STOCK OF EVERYONE FOR MILES AROUND IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS

Also the fact that the post offices are absolutely flooded 🤣 Bilbo, you madlad

“Old Gaffer Gamgee stopped even pretending to work on his garden” LOL

The brief paragraph of NOOO BAD WEATHER THE DAY BEFORE THE PARTY is honestly spectacular. It’s so nerve-wracking for just a second there—which is hilarious in light of the war and death and GIANT SPIDERS we’re going to read about. I think it has a flavor of Tolkien’s beliefs on eucatastrophe hidden in there—it’s not out of Bilbo’s own effort that the weather cleared up just in time for his party, it was just happy providence—but I’m too tired to write an essay about it right now.

“Half the Shire’s been invited…and the rest of them are turning up anyway!”

The hobbits who came through the gate again to get a second present 🤣🤣🤣

“The hobbit-children were so excited that for a while they almost forgot about eating.” That’s impressive!!

I love that some of the toys are dwarven-made. That’s such a cool detail that makes the world seem both fantastical (because dwarves!) and real (because you can Amazon order toys from them!) at the same time.

The names of the fireworks!! Especially the ones that are onomatopoeia, like “backarappers”! It just makes brain go ✨✨✨

Pfffft, yellow rain

There’s the express train reference!

Notable difference here: in the movies, the big dragon firework was set off ahead of schedule by Merry and Pippin, and all the hobbits freak out. In the book, the big dragon firework is set off right on time to signal supper, and all the hobbits freak out (but are immediately pacified by food).

Small detail I’d like to see in more fanfics: “Bilbo had been specializing in food for many years, and his table had a high reputation.” Yes, the idea of Bilbo and Frodo eating like the bachelors they are is hilarious, BUT! We have textual evidence to the contrary! I don’t know if this line means that Bilbo was a magnificent cook himself or simply hired magnificent cooks, but either way, it’s canon that the Bag End bachelors ate like kings!

“The feast was so incredible that everyone was incredibly full and took home leftovers and no one bought any new groceries for weeks. The good news is that Bilbo had bought out all the grocery stores anyway, so it was fine.”

Why is the detail about the golden buttons on Bilbo’s waistcoat so enchanting to me?? I really think this chapter just activates the Inner Child Mode in my brain, and suddenly even something as simple as shiny buttons becomes beautiful and magical. Also it’s just a lovely way to paint a vivid picture in my mind.

I’m so glad they kept so many of the jokes in Bilbo’s speech for the movies 🤣 “PROUDFEET!!”

And now here we see Tolkien, author of the fantasy epic that has defined the genre for a century and counting, unironically using caps lock. Folks, you can’t make this crap up.

The sneaky way Tolkien says Bilbo vanished before he mentions the flash of light is Very Good and hints at the fact that there’s something else at work here

Rory Brandybuck is the G.O.A.T.

“But at the same time he felt deeply troubled: he realized suddenly that he loved the old hobbit dearly.” Aww, Frodo…

Incredible that the debate between Bilbo and Gandalf over the Ring takes up almost four pages, but it doesn’t feel like it. Excellent suspense.

I wonder where Gandalf is going “to bed”. It doesn’t look like he’s staying in Bag End, so did he get a room at an inn somewhere? Is he sleeping in his cart??

Also it’s implied later in the book that Gandalf the White doesn’t sleep. Inconsistency?? A slight untruth?? Secret powerup to Gandalf the White that we’ve overlooked??

“The sun rose. The hobbits rose rather later.” Pffft

The SHADE in all the presents oh my WORD

Except for the ones for the poorer hobbits. Bilbo’s gift for the Gaffer is so simple in its contents, and yet so generous and thoughtful 🥹

MERRY MY LAD

MY FAVORITE HOBBIT (don’t tell the others)

How old would Merry have been here?? Like nineteen?? Incredible that he was already such a logistics guy that Frodo trusted him to keep an eye on the house while all the chaos is happening.

“Do you hear that, Merry? That was an insult, if you like.” “It was a compliment, and so, of course, not true.” HAHAHAHA DRAG HIM MERRY

“IF YOU DON’T LET ME IN, FRODO, I SHALL BLOW YOUR DOOR RIGHT DOWN YOUR HOLE AND OUT THROUGH THE HILL” 🤣🤣🤣

Frodo: “I’m so sorry, I thought you were Lobelia!” Gandalf: “Understandable, have a nice day”

“I would give them Bag End and everything else, if I could get Bilbo back and go off tramping in the country with him.” N’aww, Frodoooo 😭

“Look out for me, especially at unlikely times!” Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.…

“Frodo did not see him again for a long time.” Ooh, ominous.

[watercolorofthemoon]

i forced my roommate to watch both LOTR and The Hobbit with me. Here are some highlights

LOTR:

Roomie: I like this gandalf dude Me: Oh yeah me too. he's a bit questionable sometimes but we love him

30 seconds later, gandalf fighting saruman: Roomie: NO MY SKRUNKLY

Roomie: awe sam is a precious boy Me, internally: oh you dont even know the half of it

merry and pippin stealing crops: Roomie: ARE THEY THE BASTARD LITTLE BROTHERS?? me: I mean i gues- Roomie: FOUND FAMILY LETS FUCKING GO

Elrond being disappointed and having strong eyebrows: Roomie: i feel like i've let down my dad and i dont even have a dad

Roomie: i don't really like boromir that much- me, pausing the movie to explain why boromir is extremely valid: I WILL HAVE NO BOROMIR SLANDER Roomie: is this bc he's a himbo

Roomie: this thorin guy sounds pretty gay if he's given bilbo this thing thats worth more than the shire me, internally: YOU HAVE NO IDEA MOTHERFUCKER

gandalf dying: roomie: NO MY BOY

roomie: please tell me gimli and legolas are gay, because everyone else seems extremely straight me: they arguably one of the gayest duos, yes. roomie: oh good. i thought they straight-washed sam for no reason me: i mean. there are a lot of frodo and sam moments that have no heterosexual explanation viggo breaking his toes: me, practically bursting at the seams: roomie: oh god what is it me: DID YOU KNOW-

gandalf is alive: roomie: FUCK YEAH MY BOY

me, explaining the uruk-hai: roomie: fucked up of a yas character to do that tbh (referring to saruman's manicure)

theoden being stubborn at helm's deep: roomie: okay i like him BUT COME ONNN MAN

eowyn picking up merry before they ride to gondor: roomie: I KNOW I WANTED TO KISS HER FOr A REASON MWAH MWAH EOWYN me:...she gets a bf roomie: NOT ANYMORE

aragorn: for frodo roomie, bursting into tears: me: whoa whoa u good roomie: ITS HIS DAD. ITS FRODO'S DAD.

sam literally carrying frodo up a mountain: roomie:...thats a bit gay mount doom blowing up: roomie: thats unecessary and homophobic

frodo sailing to the undying lands: roomie: TAKE YOUR BOYFRIEND WITH YOU YOU COWARD

The Hobbit:

the scene with baby bilbo: roomie: NAUR I LOVE HIM

bilbo and gandalf interacting as adults: roomie: this feels like it could go very wrong thorin finally showing up: roomie: listen im gay but i'd consider it me: he's probably also gay roomie: mlm and wlw solidarity okay we're bffs now

bilbo running out of the door: roomie: again. this feels like this could go very wrong. me, internally: oh fuck how do they KNOW already

thorin throwing down his weapon bc bilbo got caught by trolls: roomie:....thats....sus. me:...if this is sus...oh boy...

thorin's obvious dislike of elves @ rivendell: roomie: okay so. explain to me why thorin doesn't like elves again- me: did you not watch the entire introduction to thorin? roomie: NO WAIT I REMEMBER THE BLOND BITCH

saruman showing up: roomie: ew.

galadriel showing up: roomie: HELLO SAILOR AWOOGA AWOOGA

bilbo and thorin nearly falling off at the mountain pass: thorin: he's been lost ever since he stepped out his front door roomie: WDYM YOU'RE ALL FUCKED UP- thorin stop being mean to your husband

the entirety of the goblin tunnels and gollum: roomie: this does not bode well. at all. the ring showing up: roomie: I WAS RIGHT

azog versus thorin scene: roomie: dumb bitch...OH NO DOES HE DIE- bilbo to the rescue: oh no its chill, just gay

the iconic carrock scene: roomie:....this is incredibly gay bestie me: i'm aware.

the entirety of the beorn's house arc: roomie: ...i like beorn. he's feral and skrunkly. so is radaghast.

legolas showing up: roomie: *surprised pikachu face*

tauriel and kili's interactions: roomie: damn i was hoping she would be gay me: i mean with the right headcanons she can totally be a lesbian roomie: UR SO RIGHT OMG

kili getting shot with arrow: roomie: NO THE GAYS-

the laketown master existing: roomie: EAT THE RICH.

bilbo and thorin on the boat together: roomie: oh they definitely fucked in laketown-

tauriel healing kili and them holding hands: roomie: oh no don't make me feel sad for straight ppl me: again. they don't have to be straight. roomie: I KNOW BUT ITS THE PRINCIPLE OF IT

bilbo waking up smaug: roomie: oh bilbo...oh you sweet summer child...you stupid bitch.

thorin threatening bilbo initially: roomie: oh fuck. it got worse. me, internally: oh honey. oh no.

thorin's gold sickness and then nearly killing bilbo at the ramparts: roomie: NO THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE GAY AND HAPPY HOW COULD YOU

*doesn't say anything almost the entire battle until the kili and fili die* roomie: noooo the skrunklies NOOOOOOO

thorin, fucking dies in bilbo's arms: roomie: *turns to look at me with the most murderous look on her face* me: *nervous laughter* so about it getting worse- roomie: IM GOING TO KILL YOU.

end for now, if we end up watching trop together ill let yall know <3

[doodle-pops]

Its 2:30 am for me rn and as I'm sleepiness I came to realize

Elfs are tall independently when compared to humans, hobbit and dwarves right? Right. Now the thing that got me tweaking is... how tall and large do the animals/companions have to be? Can average size horses be ridden by them? If they invited human/hobbit/dwarf!reader to ride with them on the same horse (Yk for romantic reasons) would they have to go through an awkward "do you need a leg up?" ??

But worst of all: how tall and large is Huan?!?!?

When I read silmarilion fics I always think of reader as being human unless stated otherwise; now I'm 4'11", how ridiculous but true would it be to have mf Celegorm with the most ironic half smile saying "you don't even need a horse! Just ride Huan"

-👻

Same. I've also thought about this since I tend to view the elves all over 7 feet (213cm). They must ride horses of similar height and size, which means that there were horses bred for the elves and humans, respectively.

For elves, they can have horses as huge as the Shire horse, the Clydesdale, or the Belgian Draft. Those are massive horses and can reach heights of 213cm and more which makes them perfect for the elves. Huan could also be of similar height and size since it was said that he could be ridden.

So, for short humans like us, we would require a footstool, aka, the elves, to give us a lift onto these mammoth-sized horses. Of course, there were mortals around the first age who were as tall as the elves, so they’d ride horses for the elves instead of regular breeds for humans to ride.

[velvet4510]

What I find really beautiful about the two loves of Sam’s life, Rosie and Frodo, is that they represent different sides of him.

It’s been said by psychologists (go look it up online and you’ll see) that it’s quite possible to be in love with two different people at the same time. A common reason is that each person brings out a different side of you or appeals to a certain part of you that the other person does not.

Something that jumps out at me about Sam Gamgee is that he has two sides to him, from the very beginning:

One side of him is the humble gardener who cherishes good tilled earth, nature, food, and family like any hobbit and dreams of a peaceful domestic life with a wife and children in the Shire. The “homebody” side. Who represents this perfectly? Rosie.

The other side of him is the free spirit drawn toward the land outside the Shire, fascinated by Bilbo’s stories, skilled at crafting poetry about the creatures of Middle-earth, longing to see Elves and explore the rest of the natural world. The “curious” side. Who represents this perfectly? Frodo.

This is reflected in the nature of each relationship.

With Rosie, Sam has the safe, comfortable love, simple and conventional yet very real, and certainly strong enough to form incredible teamwork as the parents of a huge number of little ones and to build a long-lasting happiness.

With Frodo, Sam has the epic, forbidden, star-crossed, all-consuming, passionate, soulmate love akin to that of Beren & Luthien and all the classic stories of old, eternal and unbreakable in the face of darkness, despair, and separation.

No wonder Sam says he is torn in two. He really is.

Both sides of Sam are in need of fulfillment, and both sides achieve that fulfillment. The Quest fulfills his dream of seeing Elves, exposes him to all Middle-earth has to offer, good and bad, and causes his love for Frodo to fully blossom, but also makes him yearn for home, and his “homebody” side rears its head. Over the next 60 years, he makes the most of life in the Shire with his beautiful family and leadership as Mayor, during which his love for Rosie fully blossoms, yet he still yearns for Frodo and the “curious” side of him is quieted but never truly fades. By the time he grows old, the “homebody” side of him is content and sated, and peacefully dies alongside Rosie. And then finally, the “curious” side of him comes roaring back to life and takes over. He leaves the Shire behind forever to fulfill his free spirit once more, to answer the call of the Sea, to rejoin the much-admired Elves, to reclaim the missing half of his soul in Frodo’s arms.

This guy really and truly got everything he deserved.

[the---hermit]

16|11|2023

Today was mainly dedicated to working on recorded lectures of my men theories and power practices class. I fortunately am close to the end, I think in a couple of weeks I'll be finally be all done. Today I also got part of the books I will need to read for the philosophy class I started this week and it's surely going to be something. To get the idea out Sade is part of the program and even though I knew what to expect flipping through the book I was not impressed to say the least. Surely after the lectures I'll have enough context to understand the philosophical background, but reading very nsfw stuff for uni was not on my bingo card this year. Also for some stupid reason the fact that it's stuff published in the late 1700s makes it even weirder, which is definitely to show how fucked up our view of the past generally is. I'll surely have weird updates in the upcoming months because the reading list for the class is unhinged.

cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning

watched and annotated a whole recorded lecture of my men theories and power practices class and also worked on over a half of another lecture I'll be finishing tomorrow

started to create a very detailed to do list of the matierials I have to study for the various exams I am working on (it will take a couple of days at least to put together the whole thing, but have a clear overview of everything makes me feel much more in control of what I am doing)

crocheted a bit and continued my tma re-listening (I am all done with season two!)

wrote a couple of book reviews I'll be editing and posting as soon as I can

daily Irish practice on duolingo

today's self care:

I did go back to my 6.20ish morning routine and half an hour of additional sleep was great because I have been quite tired lately

took my meds and took as many breaks as I needed while studying in order to stay focused and productive

started working on my master to do list for the classes I am studying for

📖: Odyssey by Homer