#yes idk what im doing

[noirbriar]

Ficlet:Fire & Stone AU

Having random bouts of anxiety and finding things to distract myself so decided to random button mash some ideas into a post. AU title is a placeholder until my brain is more active, but here are some thoughts for a hobbit canon divergence/ what if thing in Imladris because sadly I can't write and this scene has been bugging me for a while now and may be absolutely OOC:

Sometimes its the people you meet along the way that shape you.A moment where Thorin unexpectedly meets a stranger in Imladris.

--- A dark cloud of anger and frustration follows Thorin as he stomps away deeper into the winding gardens of Imladris. Leaving behind a flutter of fireflies and a confused Hobbit behind. With echoes of talk of the dreadful curse that lingers in his wake. The Dragon sickness that haunts him in the darkest recesses of his memories. He lets his feet guide him aimlessly through this elven settlement, troubled and frustrated. It was not until he realises there was a gentle flutter of lightness, a release of tension from his shoulders, did he realise there was music. A slow strum of strings, a calm melody from a harp surrounds the dwarf. A part of Thorin is telling him to leave this obviously occupied space, but another part of him who plays the harp as well is curious. Such wondrous melody!

It does not take long to find this minstrel on a lone stone bench, surrounded by fireflies and the blooms.Unlike the other elves in here, this one is taller than most (except, maybe the balrog slayer) and draped in a dark midnight coloured cloak, with most of his face hidden by a hood and dark tresses. The stranger stops strumming, and turns his bright gaze to his dwarven guest.

He smiles, a sad gaze that lowers in a nod and a gesture of greeting to Thorin who simply blankly nods back in return.

There was a moment of silence before the minstrel returns to his playing.A beautiful hand harp, old but well crafted and cared for by his eye. Which was when Thorin notices the bandaged hands with a soft gasp under his breath. To play such complex notes with such wounds... The stranger stops and smiles again as he has noticed the dwarf studying his instrument in hand. "It is nothing, Master dwarf," He speaks almost in a whisper. When there is no reply, he switches to that ancient and long unused form of khuzdul that Thorin has only heard from the Chief Counsellor of Imladris thus far. "Would you be keen to have a song on this eve of our meeting? It seems this is a night for sharing a song." He gestures to the other end of the bench in silent invitation.

Thorin bristles at the use of his kin's language and is annoyed. He feels he should not. Greatly. Should just march right back the many dumb winding paths back to his Company.

Yet the dwarven king surprised himself by taking a sit at the offered place, the alstroemerias rustling as the strange elf gives a deeper bow, and strums. A Dwarven classic. A ballad of mountains and distant hills. Of hidden paths and winding caves.

When it winds down into its last lingering note, the elf bows in thanks to his audience. Thorin, returns the gesture with a nod of acknowledgement to this elf's craft. In recognition of a true Master in his art. "I thank you for the song." Thorin adds shortly, though in Westron.(Let it be known he has not forgotten basic civility or diplomacy or courtesy, take that Balin!) "Ah... I apologise for my rudementary Khuzdul, I wrongly presumed you only speak your language. I have forgotten that your folk may find it rude to use in the open by others who may know it, especially in this Age. " The elf replies humbly, though from this longer conversation, Thorin sees way this elf is seated and the way he speaks and how his eyes shine much like the Lord of the Golden Flower. This is no mere minstrel.

A very old elf it seems who have also worked with dwarrow back in the old days.

"No offense is taken." Thorin pauses for a moment before adding in polite afterthought in customary khuzdul to one with great mastery, "I see you, Master of Song."

The elf gesture his thanks with a hand on his heart.

"I am Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror. To whom I should thank for his craft?" There is quiet, before Thorin finds himself gazing at old eyes filled with deep wisdom and sorrow.Old treelight blazing with fire as it met stone. "I have many names it seems... but you may call me Maglor." Maglor returns kindly. BONUS: "Lord Maglor?"Erestor knocks on the door with a tray in hand before opening the doors into the chamber," I apologise for your late dinner, but we had gues-"

He stops and does a quick scan.

Room,empty.

Travel bag, unpacked.

Harp, missing.

Silence. "Unbelievable!" Erestor hisses as he slams down the tray on the side table and rushes out, nearly colliding into Glorfindel, who have just finished his bath and now dressed in his casual night robes. Though Erestor quickly and gracefully manages to swerve away and rushes off to find one restless Son of Feanor.

The Captain of Imladris blinks.

"Well. So much for coming back to a quiet, restful evening.Its been quite an exciting day it seems." Glorfindel sighs with a shake of his head with a helpless smile. The captain quickly following behind the irritated councillor, hoping they manage to catch one wayward elf. Again.

[screamingfrenchfries]

my mom, ranting about politics: ...and that's why the woke left is destroying our society.

me, with a fanfic tab open in front of me, trying to read gay porn: uh huh, yeah sure mom.

[craigularory-joe]

is this anything to you guys

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[fallenclan]

i switched out Gizmo's collar for a braided grass cord--I think that it'd recognize a collar is too dangerous to have in the wild (choking hazard!), but still want to keep the memory of its life before. The bell probably got stuffed with mud or moss to keep it from making too much noise

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[crowsgrudge]

fionna's world being represented by a dandelion makes so much sense ... they're weeds. yet people make wishes through them, changing their whole meaning from something meant to be destroyed to something hopeful.

dandelions are also resilient and it makes sense that something associated with them would. you know. perservere despite the destruction caused by the scarab.

but ultimately i think what REALLY made me tear up over this is that dandelions are really boring plants. when you're a kid you blow on them and make your wish but they're not eyecatching or anything but still, fionna's final wish was for her old world to still exist as it was when she left it (> plain and simple. boring even).

like the moment she realized she would lose her friends, and that her friends might forget each other if the world got its magic back, she immediately decided she didn't want it and I think that ties back to the dandelion metaphor so well... like, do you really need magic to be real to find it everywhere? or can you turn something boring into something magical?

[afditlodap]

it may

[answermywearyquery]

the theerapanyakul kids: how close are you with each other?

loan’s kinnporsche 2nd anniversary: favourite familial relationship: the theerapanyakul kids (insp: ½+½)

[naomistares]

im gone cus im working on this very long last rejoice mini comic but i have an IDEA (ambitious)

what if i make my comic into a visual novel esque game instead.... i have this belief that it will actually take less time than a 400 page comic (or at least less drawing, but definitely more writing for me)... will that not be more fun and engaging!!

and get this.... you, the player, will be essentially writing your own fairytale based on choices you make! i'll make a fairytale retelling play out for every possible outcome that will get played by the end of it...!

i can do anything...(questionable)

[kyurochurro]

see technically this counts as an x file because of the abnormal and inexplicable shape of the straws ☝️😳👽

[therat-stash]

What if, what if they kiss

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 75: onehat

[arcanegifs]

"Drop the gun."

[aka-indulgence]

tmw your boyfriend dies every other night

You mean dealer right

[sapyarel]

She should've been more clear

[visionsynth]

for the art requests thing - i would looove to see your take on a phantom of the opera style papa V with a half face mask!

:-]

i am so bad at character design but ill take any excuse to combine my favourite things