#tee hee- the nerd

[tsunamiholmes]

hello!! ik you don’t know me but I know you (oh wait that sounds creepy…) WHAT I MEAN IS ive been a fan for a really long time! I absolutely ADORE your recreation of Stanford’s handwriting. so much that I made a recreation of Fiddleford’s! so, thank you for that, tumblr user tsunamiholes :D

go drink a big glass of water! hydrate or diedrate 💥

You're so sweet! I'm extremely proud of you for making a font for Fidds, that's not an easy feat! My Stanford font took weeks. I would love to grab yours when it's available for download (if it's not already).

In other news, I just downed an entire glass of water. Not sure how that's relevant, but I just thought you should know.

[charliebughug]

I Saw a cool bird.

≈WOAH! COOL BIRD!!!≈ ≈american crows are so cool, they are hella intelligent and can remember human faces, and even make deals with them sometimes like bringing shiny things for bread or other foods≈ ≈they also have their own specialized calls for different things like mating, hello, goodbye, and for their offspring≈

[drakkonyan]

Reminder that hating humans is not an alternative to loving nature. You add nothing by saying you wish human kind went extinct. You add nothing by saying humans are irredimable monsters. You are helping no harmed animal nor plant nor fungi nor microorganism by shitting on humans and, as a nature lover, you are my least favorite kind of "nature lover" because you don't like nature, you hate humans

[eclipsen-smiles]

Confused, but none the less u are pretty I gjve u a flower and bid aduie(Or smthn)(Going to bed!!))

-Sleepy Anon

Well, sleep well dear!

[lawnchairz]

whos this guy ? fred fucks ? yeah id shove a valve into my eye too if i had to play this piece of shit again. no but seriously this games a classic

[amongthebugs]

Cant stop thinking about Kauiju no. 8 that I finished in two days 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🫠🫠🫠

[special-interest-spam-pam]

My b guys

me when i have like 20 notifications in the span of five minutes and when i go check its just the same guy rapidfire liking and reblogging posts

[justiisms]

"Kitty kitty kitty, purr purr purr~" *junpei's voice is soft as he sits on his bed while pampering an incredibly happy morgana!! he's alternating between pats and scritches, smiling when he sees the content kitty s t r e t c h before quickly relaxing again!*

"Hehe, do you wanna spoil him too, Yuta? He pawed at my window and when I opened it he hopped right on in! I kept the door open for him, but he just doesn't wanna leave! I guess not even animals can resist my dashing good looks, hehe~" *then he gives a full-blown laugh as the kitty turns just to give him some airplane ears!!*

"Hehe, cute... looks like you two are having fun." Hums the Koko as he smiles at the scene~ When offered to spoil him, Yuta gives a small chortle and a nod of his head! "Sure! I think I feel like being nice to him, today, heh heh... ahh is that so? Well with how much you're pampering him, I doubt he'll want to leave anytime soon."

Seeing Morgana give him those airplane ears, makes him snicker while playfully giving one of them a poke~ "Oh, geez: even Morgana couldn't help but get exasperated at that. You big nerd..." And playfully taps Junpei's arm! "Yeah, it's definitely because you're spoiling him so much. That, and tuna, are the only two things he can't resist!"

[themslash]

and i'm gonna be honest? i dont even think kelt 11b actually has the consistency of styrofoam. i think it has some weak gravity shit going on like a small core in comparison to heavier gas giants, so it has trouble holding onto its mass, which gets real thin in the higher atmospheric layers. i bet the real answer is boring shit like that. i bet its not even real styrofoam

[notascreepyasyouthink]

guess who i have a class with again lmao

[dinosaurwithablog]

Beautiful 💙🤍💙 I love ice formations!! They're very cool, both literally and figuratively 😉😁 Sorry, I couldn't resist. 🤗😍😆

there may be ice...

[historicallyinaccuratesimongrey]

do NOT understand when characters get a special license to get married in regency period pieces. what about the ANTICIPATION. what about the DREAD

[street-smarts00]

Next to You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: While spending the night in a hotel for a case, a terrifying nightmare shakes you awake. But someones there to comfort you.

WC: 2k 

Tags: One bed trope BUT WITH A TWIST TEE HEE, HUGE hurt/comfort moment, some touch starved babies, friends to lovers A/N: the relieving feeling of finally finishing a fic!!! This was fun to write, enjoy nerds ;) beta read by the lovely @whats-yesterday00

Your lungs were starting to burn from running so fast. The heavy steps speeding up from behind made your chest tighten. You flinched at the sound of shots fired in your direction but didn’t stop running. 

The SUV’s finally came into view. As you closed the distance, the rest of your team rushed out. As they reached for their holsters, you heard more gunshots. But not from them. 

Half the team was down once you reached them. It didn’t make any sense. You were so far ahead of the unsub. There’s no way he could’ve gotten 3 clear shots to your team. You fell to the snow on the ground, your warm breath turning into a fog in the air as you panted. The sight in front of you ripped your insides to shreds. 

As your heart rate sped up, eyes shot open. You were met with the almost pitch black ambiance of the hotel room. You could feel your heart beating throughout your whole body and could practically hear it in your ears. 

You slowly sat up as the tightness in your chest returned. Tears started to fall down your cheeks.

You didn’t get nightmares often. Before your current job, it rarely ever happened. They became more frequent the more you worked at the BAU. Tonight was one of those nights that your worst fears tainted your dreams. 

Of course tonight it had to happen. When you were away on a case miles away from home and sharing a hotel room. Sharing a room with Spencer. 

You didn’t have any objections to sharing a room with him, but the nerves from your feelings for him never went away. You’d fallen asleep sitting next to him on the jet before, but this was for a whole night- and for possibly multiple nights. The only thing that eased some of your anxiety was that he had his own bed far from you. If you were even remotely close to him you’d have to resist from reaching for him. 

And now you had a nightmare with him in the same room. 

The idea of waking him up made you feel prematurely guilty. The fear of crying infront of him made you mortified. You wiped at your tears and tried to hold back from crying. You kept glancing at the other bed to make sure Spencer didn’t wake up.

Your breath became heavier as little gasps threatened to fall out so you clasped your hands over your mouth. The tears blurred your vision and your head went dizzy as you tried to control your breath. Then, out of your control, a choked sob escaped your lips. 

It alerted Spencer's attention almost immediately. Half awake, he stirred in bed and called out your name to confirm if you were awake. 

This only made you feel worse. You tried to stay as quiet as possible. Didn’t move an inch and didn’t even breathe. But still, small whimpers left your mouth as you resisted from hyperventilating. 

Spencer, now fully awake, shot up as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room looking for you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, full of concern. 

The second he heard you sniffle. he sprang out of his bed and rushed to yours. He sat down beside you and carefully placed a hand on your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

You sniffled again and met his eyes. You could just barely see them thanks to the small amount of light peeking in through the window. “I- I-” you could barely get out in between gasped breaths. 

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and placed your head on his chest. The embrace made you finally fall apart. You sobbed into his chest and let the tears stream down your face. You clung to him like your life depended on it. In return, he held you as close as he was physically able to. His one arm gently held your head against him while the other slowly caressed your back. The action made you turn to jelly in his arms. 

Once your breathing slowed down and your heart rate calmed, you separated from Spencer. He carefully pushed your hair behind your ears and held your face in his hands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he whispered.  

You sniffled once more, “Not really.” 

He nodded, “why don’t you try to go back to sleep, okay?” 

You nodded back to answer. 

“If you need me just say the word.” He started to get up from your bed, but before he could leave, you interrupted. 

“Spence, could you uh,” you stumbled on your words. 

He sat back down. Looking at you with the most caring eyes while he lets you take your time. 

You ignored the warning signals going off in your brain. The warnings that told you this was a step too far. The anxiety that told you this action will lead you growing too close to him and hurting your unrequited feelings. 

“Could you stay? Please,” you pleaded in a quiet voice. 

“Of course.” 

The weight on your shoulders started to lift. You resumed your spot under the covers as Spencer walked around to the other side of the bed and followed your actions. He left enough room between the two of you so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by his presence or be uncomfortable. 

As if you could ever be uncomfortable around him. 

As he whispered goodnight, you carefully reached over to his side under the covers. Your hand found his. He instinctively took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

As the minutes rolled bye, you came no closer to falling asleep. It feels like you’ve spent the past half hour tossing and turning. Every time you closed your eyes, the images from your nightmare flashed before you. 

At some point, you moved enough to wake up the man next to you. 

Spencer called out your name, “you alright?” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up again,” you apologized, deflecting his answer. 

He turned around to face you. “I don’t mind. What’s up?” 

“I can’t sleep. Too scared.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked again. He knew hearing that question in a state of stress could sometimes be found annoying. But more importantly, he knew it was a key way of relieving that stress. 

After a moment of silence from you, he rescinded the question. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t-“

“You died.” 

Your voice sounded quiet and fragile. “And it was my fault.” 

His eyes and voice were full of worry as he spoke your name. 

“I know it’s not real. I know it never happened but… I’ve never felt so scared.” Your eyes threaded to spill with tears and you desperately tried blinking them away. 

Spencer reached for your upper arm and rubbed his thumb against your skin. He saw you start to relax at the contact. 

Your breath shook as you tried to inhale. “I don’t know how I can go to sleep after that.” 

He’s quiet for a moment considering his approach to comfort you. He saw how well you responded to physical touch earlier in the night. When he comforted you with an embrace your stress reduced significantly. 

“I have an idea. Come here,” he moved the blanket to allow you space next to him. 

You nervously inched closer to him. 

“Put your head on my shoulder.” You hesitated before complying and settling at his side. Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist and he himself hesitated before pulling you closer. His hand rested on your back. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered. 

“It’s more than okay,” you muttered back. 

He took that as a sign to repeat his previous actions from earlier and run his hand up and down your back. This time much slower and gentler. The action made you melt in his arms. You reacted to the gesture by burying your face into his neck. 

“Thank you.. for this,” you mumbled. He could feel your breath against his skin. 

“I’d do anything to make sure you feel safe,” he held onto you like you provided the air he breathed. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispered, just barely audible. 

The only reason you could hear him was because he was so close. His words sent shivers down your spine and butterflies in your stomach. 

“I always feel safe around you, Spence.” 

The walls you had carefully built up when he asked you to lay next to him were starting to come down. The moment became too sweet and sensual to ignore. Every one of his touches was driving you to the brink of insanity. Your neck and ears grew in temperature as the feelings overwhelmed you. Your heart rate started to pick up at a racing speed. 

Unfortunately, Spencer noticed. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, why?” you answered much too quickly. 

“Your heart's beating really fast.”  

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine, there’s no reason.” 

He saw through you like glass. “Of course there’s a reason.” Spencer loosened his grip and shifted his weight to get a better look at you. His hand moved to the small of your back. 

“Is it the nightmare? Is it still bothering you?” he asked, his voice quiet and kind. 

You mumbled a timid, “no.” 

He examined your features, watching you get lost in your own head. “What are you thinking?” 

You looked up into his eyes. Your thoughts were swirling with too much to even give him a semblance of what was going on. Everything from his touch, his smell, his irises looking straight into your soul. 

While riding on the intoxicating wave of his care, you let a confession slip out. 

“I think I want to kiss you right now.” 

Spencer's eyes widened and although you couldn't see it, his cheeks flushed with red.

“Oh,” was all he could make out, at a loss for words. 

His pause caused your anxiety to spike. You immediately regret your actions. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You started to retract from him and turn away. But before you could flee from his hold, he grabbed your upper arm, pulling you back towards him. In an instant, Spencer's lips crashed into yours.

The initial shock had your lips frozen, before they started to melt against his. As he felt you relax, he poured more passion into you. The kiss tasted like desperation. Like you both were holding in a hunger that had driven you to starvation. 

His hands couldn’t find a place to rest. They were traveling up and down your figure, from your waist, back, hips, neck, and face. Your hands settled at the side of his face and the back of his neck while your fingers played with the ends of his hair. Spencer sighed into your mouth and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. 

As the kiss continued, Spencer's hand traveled down to your thigh. You instinctively wrapped your leg around him. But in a moment of nervousness, his movements glitched and lips slowed. His hand gently resumed its pawing at your thigh as he softened in your hold. 

Time felt like it stood still.  You breathed each other in like it was the first time you felt fresh air. 

The only thing concerning you or him was taking a literal breath of air and releasing from the kiss. 

You both pulled away gasping for breath and started to fall down from the high. As heavy exhales leave you, Spencer pressed small delicate kisses against your cheeks and the corners of your lips. His hold on your leg loosened and his fingers slowly traveled up and down your thigh. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that before,” you admit, sheepishly smiling. 

He smiled back at you, “me neither.” 

“Can we talk more about this in the morning?” you asked. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I'm exhausted.” After the passion had washed away, you were reminded how much sleep you lost throughout the night. 

“Absolutely,” he said with a fond and relieved look. “Come on, we should get some rest.”

You both settled into a more comfortable position to fall asleep. There was an unconscious understanding between you two and that there was no way you were separating.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

congrats on 1k love, so deserved !! can i request han w the prompts 🧷, 🌕, 💋, 🌸, and 🧋 for the time capsule event pls ?? :3 tysmmm <33

📚 — paring・hannie x reader // genres・fluff, cookies time capsule event!! // words・1.6k // the event・wanna open your relationship time capsule? click here to request!

a/n・tee hee thank you sooo much, so crazy coming from you figuring i'm down bad for your nerd!ji series (was this lowkey based off that? yes. am i ashamed? absolutely not.) hanji being a hot nerd is so coded. to anyone reading this go check out her page her stuff is awesome!! (sorry this is kinda shit, i'm going through it right now lolol p.s there is an ungodly amount of ramen mentions in this)

🧷 — the first time you met ➵ ꒰ 0 days into your relationship ꒱

jisung is a certified loser, so naturally, he was head over heels in love with you before you two ever actually had a conversation. the first time you formally met—not him daydreaming about you in chemistry or stalking your social media—he had already been caught staring at you at least 20 times within the last hour. you've never seen a man pale and then blush so fast in your life; it was almost impressive. "do i have something on my face?" you muse, leaning forward on his desk. he's rehearsed his first real conversation with you for literal years, but alas, the moment you actually look at him, all those cool-calm-collected skills he religiously googled go poof in his brain. "w-what? n-no?? you d-don't have anything on y-your face?" his ears are so red that he can feel them, which means you can see them, and that only makes him more embarrassed. yeah, that is not a fun combo. you send him an amused smirk, running your finger along his desk. "you sure? you seem to really like my face." oh. my. god. he wants the earth to crack open and swallow him whole, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat as if this wasn't one of the most embarrassing moments in his life. "no! i-i haven't been, um..." you give him an unconvinced look. he sighs, sinking deeper into his seat, face practically on fire. "sorry..." at first, this was all a silly joke. but the way he seems so embarrassed before you, fiddling with his fingers underneath the desk and bouncing his leg as if he's going to run away, makes you think this isn't actually a joke to him. you smile, soft and disarming in its sweetness. "don't sweat it, just maybe... next time watch where you're looking." half of him expected you to laugh at him for having this silly crush, but the way you acted, how kind you were, made the delulu part of him flare up like no other. he couldn't stop thinking about you for the rest of the week, but he knew deep down, there was no possible way he could talk to you again. god had different plans because—of course this would happen to him—a week later, you get assigned to him for peer tutoring. yeah, he was so done.

💋 — the first kiss. ➵ ꒰ 1 month into your friendship ꒱

you were 'just friends' when you first kissed han jisung. he had just made a large bowl of spicy ramen, as one does, while you were finishing up some problem questions he wrote for you. you were almost finished with them when you looked over, a large splotch of sauce slathered over his bottom lip. you let out a little chuckle, motioning to his lips. "you've got something right there." he perks up, ears turning bright red. "r-right here?" he scrambles to wipe it off, but fails miserably. "no," you laugh, pointing back to where it is. "it's right there." perhaps it was because he was so flustered, but no matter how many times you showed him where it is, he just couldn't find it. he huffed in frustration, cheeks all cute and red. "i'm gonna go check the mirror." "don't worry about it," you say, pulling him back down by the sleeve, crawling to him and pressing your lips together. time stills, and when your tongue pokes out to lap against his bottom lip, he's truly convinced this was some sick, wet dream. when you finally pull away, jisung almost melts into a puddle on the floor. he should say something smooth, win you over with his totally-not-just-in-his-head flirtatious skills, but no. in classic jisung fashion, he stammers out—"d-did you, um, did you get it?" you can't help the laughter that spills from your now red and puffy lips. he can't stop thinking: shut up! shut up! shut up! you're making a total fool of yourself! "yes, jisung, i got it." "o-oh yeah, t-that's really good, w-we wouldn't want..." yeah, he doesn't say anything after that. don't worry, you didn't leave the poor boy to wallow in humiliation for long. the classic "what are we?" conversation happens the next day.

🌕 — the first night. ➵ ꒰ 1 month into your friendship ꒱

the first time you spent the night at his apartment, it was a mix of food, anime, and laughter. han has been plotting this night ever since you brought it up. he literally made an entire note on his notes app labeled super-awesome-first-night-with-my-gf. the first bullet on the list—woo my girlfriend into thinking i'm actually really cool and not just a simp. the second bullet—make tons and tons of ramen. only one of those bullets got checked off that night. anyways, the ramen was pretty smack. all jokes aside (guys tell me im so funny), you had a blast. you both huddled under the covers and didn't stop laughing until you were doubled over, stomachs cramping. he shared his favorite anime show and his super-secret-spicy-ramen recipe, which he swore up and down wasn't just ramen and cheese (it totally was). and maybe, secretly, he did woo you—just a little bit.

🌸 — the first time he got jealous. ➵ ꒰ 4 days into your relationship ꒱

it's pathetic really, how quickly han can get jealous. you weren't doing anything to evoke jealousy, you were just... talking. that's what bothered him so much — you were talking — to a tall, hot, white guy that looked nothing like him. he doesn't wanna admit it, but bagging the most beautiful girl in school came with a rap sheet of insecurities. you had only been dating for four days, but he was already worried about you also seeing how far out of his league you are. i mean, come on, you two weren't even in the same sport. (he just needs to be kissed bc what is this gorgeous baby talking about??). he'd be so pouty when you come back and sit down beside him. jisung isn't the "imma fight this hoe" kinda guy. he is the "imma cry in the corner and imagine fighting this hoe" kind guy, so when you see him avoiding your eye and pawing at his thighs, you know almost immediately. "hey ji, you good?" he scoffs, looking at you like you were crazy. "me? good? pshh, i'm so good. i'm cool, man. i'm so cool. cool like... ice..." you both cringe at that. it's silly, he knows that, and it isn't like he thought you were cheating or something — he was just... insecure. and you, being literally perfect in every way, noticed, cupping his cheeks and gingerly pointing his face toward you. "baby, talk to me, what's wrong?" he doesn't look at you when he mutters, shy and embarrassed, "who was that guy... you were talking to?" you really, really liked jisung, so you don't let out the laugh that threatened to leave your lips as you say, "who? my cousin?" han jisung has never been more horrified in his life. "your cousin?!" "yes, my love. he's my cousin." he takes another look at the fine-ass specimen of a man, then back to you. yeah, it checks out. though, meeting said cousin after that was really weird, but that's a different story for a different time.

🧋 — the first time he realized he wanted to marry you ➵ ꒰ 2 years into your relationship ꒱

han jisung realized he was going to marry you when you were looking like a total mess. work had made him feel like the entire world was sitting on his shoulders, back aching and heavy as he slipped off his shoes, stepping into the kitchen to find you—bent over the stove, stirring a heaping bowl of ramen. it was 3 in the morning, and he had taken extra shifts to help pay for bills, and quite frankly, he doesn't remember the last time he ate. you were in your hello kitty pjs, hair tangled and rustled from the power nap you took before making his meal, and the sight alone is enough to make tears spring into his eyes. "baby," he whimpers, strolling up behind you to wrap his arms tightly around your waist. you jump, but when you catch a whiff of his scent, your body relaxes into his touch, so familiar it feels like coming back home. you smile, giving the noodles one final stir before pouring them into a bowl and handing them to him, garnering it as if you were a 5-star michele."i hope you like it!" he was so tired, so tired he could collapse onto the kitchen table and never wake up again, but with you, around you—it didn't matter—he was going to eat your food gosh darn it. he took a bite and suddenly, he wasn't tired anymore, he was starved. your eyes sparkle like he just handed you the moon when his wobbly lips turn into a firm, convincing grin. "this is so good, baby. thank you." you give him this look, like you were staring straight into time, like you were imagining a life with him, and you liked it. that was where it started. it was the strangest phenomenon—it bloomed inside his chest, this feeling, and then, with disorienting intensity, it all—clicks. that's when he realized he was going to marry you, sitting there on kitchen stools, sipping on the best ramen he's ever tasted in his life.

[demonmew25]

This is kind of a weird question, but what do you think Muzan smells like? I was just wondering because the bots on janitor ai describe it as "the coppery stench of blood", but I feel like he'd smell good. Bcus he's rich lmao.

Ooh now this is a good ask! ✨

Muzan definitely has a floral smell, especially since he works with flowers trying to recreate the blue spider lily potion. This floral scent is combined with earthy notes and a mild smell of chemicals since he is in his laboratory a lot 😅 don't get me wrong, if your nose is sharp enough, there is a slight hit of the coppery scent if blood, but this is masked by the other scents. Sometimes he has that "new book smell" since he spends a lot of time reading tee-hee, nerd 💖

Generally, Muzan smells nice, except for this scene...

man smelt like burnt chicken in this scene 😂😭

I love asks like this, I need to share more head canons 🥰

[balrogballs]

Hi hi hi! I just finished reading The Sword Tree and I'm still unwell about it so I hope it's okay if I rant in your ask box for a sec. I'm South Asian and the bit about celebrian saying there's more to their national diagnosis of sea-longing hit so close to home because the rhetoric around returning to valinor is so similar to partition where the rhetoric was (and remains to this day at least in pakistan) that all the Muslims of the subcontinent WANTED to go to Pakistan because they wanted a Muslim homeland. Which is just - patently untrue as evidenced by the fact that MILLIONS of Muslims chose to remain in India and doesn't take into account any of the hundred of reasons people actually chose to migrate, the threat of violence being not least amongst them. The way returning to valinor is framed as this glorious homecoming when really so many of the elves would have been fleeing from violence, would have been going because they had no other choice, because it was that or fade is soooo ASHDHSGS it drives me insane. But at least now I can think of celebrian taking them to her forest so yay <3 thank you for that

You’ll have to excuse me nerding out being a complete freak and writing a whole ass impromptu 1500 word meta essay at midnight in the hour since you sent this though, because this ask scratches a good 100% of my brain in a wonderful way + I have a lot of THOUGHTS + it touches on some non-fiction stuff I was preparing for Mereth Aderthad… so thank you very much ily as you can see here I am just as unwell 🥹🙏🏽🫶🏽

I’ll put the actual content under the cut since it’s long, but it may be interesting to anyone else keen on my silly meta/theory ramblings re: postcolonial South Asia, Tolkien elves, Valinor, Indo-Pak (obv a thematic comparison rather than a direct equation since the circumstances, cost and setting is entirely different), slow violence and the diction of genteel exile… plus, Frodo comes into it at one point!

Forgive me if I repeat myself here because I’m not sure how long you’ve followed me so idk how much Balls Lore™️ I’ve dropped btw… so I’m not religious but my paternal side (who we’re culturally closer to as a family since my mum’s side don’t really practice their religion/culture) are actually Indian Muslims from Kerala, which was one of the v few Indian states that had both a high Muslim population yet saw almost no northward movement towards Pakistan, partly bc it was so far south and the people don’t speak any of the Indopak “border languages” but also because there wasn’t much communal violence or structural discrimination (relative to the rest of the country, I mean…) so life was at the time not particularly hostile or difficult for Muslims in Kerala, at least on the basis of their religion (caste is a diff story though 🥲).

And so people just stayed, because, as you say, they COULD. Because why the fuck would you choose to leave the place you were born in, trek across the entire subcontinent and face unspeakable violence, if you had literally any other choice!!!

And your point about “glorious homecoming” is also super interesting to me especially in the context of the RSS/Indian RW’s “Musalmanon ko donon sthan, Pakistan aur kabarsthan’ (Muslims have two places: Pakistan or the graveyard)” chant, by now a vicious majoritan sentiment which simultaneously contradicts their other unhinged viewpoint, aka “Pakistan technically belongs to India”. And that kind of diction is in turn echoed and mirrored from the Pakistani side, where anytime anti-Muslim violence breaks out in India, the PK broadcast media/politicos begin their “we told you so tee hee we told you you should have come here, who asked you to stay in India? 🤪” world tour like they’re talking about children who dropped their ice creams 🥲

Which is unsurprising of course, considering India and Pakistan have spent nearly 80 years constructing their national identity as the moral and civilisational antithesis of the other one… ie Pakistan as a “sanctuary from Hindu majoritarianism”, India as a “secular (lmao) republic against Islamic theocracy”… and like w Valinor and Middle-earth, these imaginaries are less geographic than mythic (thinking about Eärendil’s journey here, or Tuor just… as a concept sksksk): each land continuously reifies itself by casting the other as failed or impure, and the rules of performance and belonging keep shifting…

The very structure of Valinor's inaccessibility aka requiring divine permission, reserved for the select, where rules can be broken only if the divine powers will it to me resonates w how citizenship & belonging are gatekept in the subcontinent and how those with hybrid or marginal identities (like Ëarendiil) are often asked to prove their fidelity to the nation (“choose elves or men”) in ways the majority never is, as if access to the country of your birth was a conditional gift rather than a birthright.

And I’m thinking again about the Peredhel choice, and Elwing and Eärendil being forced to choose to belong to either men or elves at great cost, quite literally punished for hybridity, and for stepping foot in Valinor as the “wrong kind”, the kind who aren’t allowed to enter… and this punishment lasts for several generations of their line, right down to Arwen… so again that “homeland” projected not as a shared horizon of peace but as a fantasised ideal purified of the other’s existence…. an unsoiled homeland that can only keep moving forwards by erasing those whose identities speak to entanglement...

And with “Indo-Pak”, that metaphysical distance between Valinor and Middle-earth is reenacted as militarised borders and cultural opposition... each made from the blank spaces in the other’s mirror. And so in India, much like for other minorities in Pakistan, or former East Pakistan prior to the liberation of Bangladesh… those who don’t fit the moral geography of Partition ie religiously intermarried families, religious minorities, borderland communities, secular dissidents, queer folk, etc, are not only excluded from nationalist narratives but seen as aberrations, or intruders… India must inversely reflect Pakistan, and Pakistan must inversely reflect India, because if they don’t, then neither country can be said to exist.

And yes absolutely, for ME elves (ie Elrond for instance) the “return” is not some triumphant homecoming, the journey West is sorrowful and final… less a political return and more an admission that Middle-earth, the “contested space” so to speak, can no longer sustain the presence of its most wounded or burdened beings. Eg Frodo’s departure, like Celebrían’s sailing, being a spiritual evacuation rather than a physical one, not in itself necessary for healing, but because healing is no longer possible where the wound was made… like, the tragedy of people needing to convalesce from their own country is just 🥲

and I think the ending of the Return of the King showcases this splendidly: by ending with a *departure* from ME rather than an *arrival* in Valinor. And that’s what makes it tragic to me, bc in Tolkien’s world, the sailing to Valinor marks the end of the narrative for the reader, but in South Asia, this desire for purified homelands continues to regenerate new forms of violence…

What I’m trying to say here is, I assume you haven’t read my India AU (Prayers to Broken Stone) since I remember you mentioning the sea serpent one was the first Maedhros and Elrond story of mine you read, which is why I am EXTREMELY shook (in a good way aka I am insanely impressed, whatever our souls are made of yours and mine are the same etc etc) at how you’ve hit the nail right on the head when it comes to a major undercurrent of Prayers, which I don’t think I’ve even mentioned explicitly on Tumblr either—the overarching thematic parallel between the fading of elves and the postcolonial trajectory of the Indian Muslims who chose to stay because they wanted to, where the opportunity for a “glorious return” to an unknown land is no opportunity at all, and is in fact nothing but a great and violent sundering. Like that is the main thematic framework there, far beyond any positionality-politics about the Noldor and the Sindar or whatever. Just including a bit from one of the chapters which I think illustrates exactly what I mean (context, this is set during the Emergency following the Fëanorians as a Malayali Muslim family, where Maedhros is a former freedom fighter).

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I wanted to convey in the fic how in post-independence India, Muslims were not formally expelled, but their political + cultural + historical centrality was increasingly made to fade, ie transformed from participants in the national story to spectral reminders of an undesirable past… thinking about that alternate LOTR ending where Sam talks to his daughter Elanor about Celeborn staying alone in Lothlorien, and her calling it “terribly sad”… artefacts/relics/remembrance etc etc…

+ in Tolkien, fading is often accompanied by a refusal to speak of the past. Sam, after Frodo’s departure, speaks little of the Ring or of what was lost, or with Celebrían, the narrative has nothing to add about the year between Cel’s capture and torture, vs her sailing, ie what it was like to make the decision to sail after the act of violence. Similarly, in India, public discourse around Patrition + postcolonial antiMuslim violence is marked by silences, half-truths, and amnesia (similar to how the Bangladesh War of Liberation is taught in Pakistan, from what I hear from a cross-border friend…). And this silence is absolutely not accidental but functional: they allow the nation to perform coherence by concealing rupture.

Eg just as the memory of Frodo’s pain is only buried under the peace of the Shire and never truly gone, the memory of communal violence in India is buried (quite literally sometimes, thinking about Babri masjid…) beneath the rhetoric of secularism, progress and unity. IE like Maedhros realises in that snip above where he “loses” his name, India tells itself that it must forget the past in order to survive the future… and in doing so, renders certain kinds of survival indistinguishable from death 🥲

So yes, I absolutely think it’s exactly that “violence of belonging”, where to belong fully often requires the erasure of the other, where even the sacred return is structured by exclusion. Ie the “offer” of “returning” to an imaginary, idealised and ultimately inert “homeland” is more a euphemism for removal, or a horizon made visible only through loss.

The political grammar of “sundered” states require a sort of continuous re-inscription: new Others, new exiles, new purity tests. and in both Tolkien + postcolonial India, gesturing the “fading people” towards a redemptive “homeland” doesn’t signify the endpoint of suffering and victimisation, but rather serves as its ongoing justification. Eg is it homecoming or is it exile? 🥲

Hope my very incoherent midnight thoughts make sense! You really put my brain on speedrun mode jsjsjsjxjd this is the fastest I’ve run to answer a meta ask hahaha. And I also wanted to say thank you so much for leaving all those fantastic comments on my fics, I normally respond in bulk because I’m only logged in to AO3 on my desktop, but I just wanted to say they have TRULY been making my week…