#I am mildly unhinged

[seeresswritessometimes]

Hi hello, the person I like responded to me sub-optimally once and now my brain has decided they hate me so that’s where we’re at today 🙃

[crossbackpoke-check]

do you guys um. mods asleep anyone on the dash want to read 1.5k of roman history (tatd) fic i would be christening (haha) the tag for. and also help brainstorm with me to make it more than a scene but not an entire Plot 🙏

[lucy-the-cat]

me accidentally convincing one of my classics mutuals to read red queen by my sheer amount of posting

[applepies-and-starlight]

If you met a perfect miror of youself, what would be your reaction? How would you feel? Would you do anything?

(...Hm, this got a tad graphic.)

Probably initially starts off with staying out of each other's business... aaaaand then we get to the part where we start to beat each other up because I have. Many Problems. And I am damn well aware that I internalize and blame myself for 90% of the shit that's happened to me

If I could I'd cave their skull in and gnaw at their neck until I've chewed through it or slice its arms open and disembowel it or something, or they could do that to me too. It's a perfect mirror so i don't think it matters who survives this but i think that either way whoever "I" am will feel a little better

Just make sure we're isolated and there's a shower with fresh clothes because i might do a murder-suicide if my parents see me in that state and scold me about it because i'm not sure ìf i can take that type of chiding in that headspace

[the-backspin-alchemist]

♾️

AND THE RADIO MAN SAYS “IT IS A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT OUT THERE!”

AND THE RADIO MAN SAYS “Rock and roll lives!”

AND THE RADIO MAN SAYS “It is a beautiful night out there in Los Angeles!”

You live in Los Angeles.

And you are going to Reseda.

We are all in some way or another going to Reseda, someday, to die.

And the Radio Man laughs, because the Radio Man fucks a model, too.

[moderndaymadscientist]

that genius idiot twink scientist won’t get out of my head somebody help hes building machines in there I think

[starlitangels]

GB in his stream yesterday: I think I gave Faithful too much personality and the audience doesn’t relate to her as much

My friends in my inbox the second a new BW video drops (sometimes before I’ve had a chance to watch it): BW is my favorite I love Faithful and Albus and Devlin here’s three theories on where the story could be going what do you think Star aaahhh

Me: Whatever you say GB

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Well if you like to spin out AUs for fun, how about this one- age reversal? young newbie on loan from Chelsea Roy Kent meets Jamie Tartt, captain of Richmond and formerly of Manchester United?

I'm terribly sorry, nonny, but this scenario just doesn't do it for me. That doesn't mean there's even a tiny thing wrong with it, of course! It's just not to my taste, yeah? (I am very finnicky about any AU that isn't canon divergence: sometimes I'll get excited but mostly it's not for me.)

However, there might be others who are into it, so I'm putting this out there in the hopes that someone else will pick it up and play! I am pretty sure I've seen a fic along these lines on AO3, though I haven't read it.

Happy dreaming, nonny; sorry I couldn't join you in this.

(I am curious, though: why formerly of United instead of City?)

[darishima]

i am PRAYING that hulemy turns out to be some wacky mad scientist hange zoe-type character instead of just a pretty waifu. i am literally begging

[magpiesbones]

currently having Emotions in the Agott fic

[s0akie]

(OP's tags)

nothing personal but this kind of comment rlly exemplifies to me a disconnect between canon and popular fanon jmart characterization because they almost literally had this conversation in canon - except, their lines are swapped!

jon, for all his scared grouchiness, is a secret romantic, while martin, for all his forced optimism, is at his core a pragmatist

[musical-chick-13]

There are a scant few characters where I go, "I can fix them" but whenever this happens, it's never from a romantic standpoint, it's "I will be their best friend and offer emotional support and help them find a good therapist and buy them soup."

[salemlikesscissors]

Get over here motherfucker it's time for your daily nom noms

[murdercatsandlaserswords]

I really like these tags by @samspenandsword (sorry for the tag but I didn’t reblog from you initially and I wasn’t willing to re-type my tags 😅)

obi-wan, preparing for a solo mission: and anakin, one last thing. temporary command over the 212th does not mean you can treat them like the 501st. please leave the planning to cody.

anakin: don't worry master, i'm sure the commander and i can work something out

[three days later in the resolute's medbay]

cody: *stares at anakin*

anakin: *stares at cody*

cody: i won't tell him you head-butted the separatist leader while in handcuffs and a blindfold without a lightsaber if you won't tell him i jumped right into that tank of acid to block the drain and disable the cannon attached to it

anakin: you got yourself a deal, commander

[liesonthefloordramatically]

shout out to Japanese spellcheck being wrong literally every single time; I could do a better job of checking my own grammar in second-year Japanese, you useless little pile of blue and red lines

[balrogballs]

I'm still sad about this heartwarming and mildly amusing little section where feral adolescent Aragorn brings some joy to Maedhros in his unhinged little way, which I had to cut out of Cast in Stone for structural reasons, especially as I had gone to the trouble of illustrating it!

But I realised it reads perfectly fine standalone, so you guys can have my crumb of Maedhros-joy instead. No context required: Maedhros and Maglor are temporarily staying in the Shire during the late Third Age, Maedhros had a horrible night of traumatic dreams and was being maudlin — until young Aragorn, aka Elros II and the bane of his life, turns up like a bad penny, as he often does. Enjoy!

---

"You look unhappy," said Estel, sitting down before Maedhros, legs crossed. "Does your hand hurt? Surely it can't be as bad as when it got chopped off, can it?"

"No, but leave me be, Estel, I have —"

"All right, but let me ask just one question. I promise, then I'll go away. I just remembered something from my lessons, and every time I ask Ada he looks up at the sky and asks the Valar where he went wrong in raising me," Estel moved closer, looking around for eavesdroppers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know."

Maedhros frowned, swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged in a breath. "What?"

"Fingon rescued you on one of those enormous eagles, didn't he? On that mountain with Morgoth and all of that. It was one of those, right? Manwë's Eagles."

"Yes. He did. I do not wish to answer any further questions on the matter, clear off."

"And it was quite a long journey, wasn't it?"

Maedhros grunted.

"I've always had a question about it… and again, you don't have to tell me if it's too traumatising," Estel's eyes shone, as though he were about to hear a state secret. "And I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Spit it out, boy, or leave me now. I am in the mood for neither company nor memory."

"Did it… you know…?"

"If you're trying to ask me if losing the hand hurt, yes it did," Maedhros snapped. "Now leave me alone, I've had enough reminiscing for a damned century. Get off home, now!"

"Oh, shut up, I wasn't asking about your stupid hand, I don't understand why you think everyone sits around thinking about your hand," Estel scowled, pursuing his lips, before deciding his quest for scientific knowledge was more important than whatever had crawled up Maedhros' arsehole and died. He widened his eyes conspiratorily, looked around again. "My question has nothing to do with that! I just wanted to know, did the eagle… you know?"

"Estel, I am not going to repeat this, get out of my sight right this —"

"Did it take a shit?"

"Did… what?"

"Did it take a shit?" Estel flushed as he said the word, Elrond's parental touch finally taking hold, though in a predictably useless manner. "And if it did, how big was it? As in, was it normal bird crap, or was it, you know — like a bucketload of it?"

Maedhros blinked. Estel held his hands out to demonstrate.

"I've always wanted to know that about them, you know," the boy continued, stroking his chin like a philosopher. "Manwe's eagles, that is. Surely if they're big enough to carry two people, one being a towering beast like you, their droppings must be massive."

"What…?" Maedhros couldn't formulate words, a state of being Estel clearly had no familiarity with. "Their… what?"

"And yes, I know they're divine, all of that, but surely they can't be toilet trained, can they? I just don't see Manwë having enough time to toilet train an eagle, you know. Could you imagine just… going about your day, and having this massive tub of birdshite fall on your head? Oh, it could drown a person, I'm sure of it!" Estel grinned, as if said occurrence would be the best day of his life, had it happened to him. "So, did it? And if it did, did you see if it went on someone?"

Maedhros sat there blinking at the boy in complete silence before rising quietly, taking the now-extremely-familiar ear, and slowly — like he were a corpse — leading Estel to the village gate. He didn't say a word, only gestured weakly and put up three fingers, a signal the now sulky boy was very used to.

And as Estel, muttering darkly all the while, neared the completion of his first punishment-lap of three around the village green, he heard something that sounded like a donkey in immense pain. It was a sound so tremendous and unexpected that it brought Maglor running from the house, gaping at the source, having not heard such a thing in centuries. It was no donkey, but Maedhros in complete hysterics, sitting on the ground exactly where he was when he beckoned Estel to run, sobbing with laughter, actual tears pouring down his face, which itself was screwed up and flushed so pink he looked like he'd been badly sunburned. He was trying to explain the situation to Maglor (who had been glaring at Estel as if he had personally killed his brother, and now looked upon him like he was Iluvatar himself) but Maedhros was howling too hard to even stand, let alone form coherent words.

Estel pretended not to notice, and started on his second lap. Though objectively speaking, the laugh itself sounded like something between a foghorn, a pig and whatever noise he imagined Ungoliant would make — there was something rather lovely about it that brought an inexplicable little smile to his face.