#I feel no obligation or desire to see the Hobbit
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takeiteasyjoan · 5 months ago
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I'm done with Erin Brockovich. Was good!
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I spun the random number generator wheel for next week's movie, and I can choose from...
Die hard,
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the fast and the furious, or
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Lord of the rings fellowship of the ring!
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Action action fantasy!
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glorf1ndel · 1 year ago
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You Remind Me of My Brother (~900 words, gen)
For Day 1 of @tolkiengenweek, inspired by the prompt "mentorship." Peregrin Took, as seen through Boromir and Faramir's eyes. Or: the time Pippin kicked Boromir's ass.
Read on Ao3 or below!
In early January of the year 3019, on an outcrop deep in the wilds, Peregrin Took and Boromir spar on the long journey to Mordor. The rest of the Fellowship is eating breakfast, but Pippin is anxious to learn the art of swordsmanship. Besides, he’s already scarfed down three helpings of rabbit. When Boromir knocks the hobbit down for the third time in a row, Pippin almost regrets eating. (Almost.) He leaps to his feet and brushes himself off, ready to try again.
Boromir lands another blow, and Pippin falls to the ground.
“This is ridiculous. I could kick Boromir’s ass,” Pippin whispers to Merry – a bit too loudly, because Boromir himself bursts out laughing and says,
“With a little more practice.”
Pippin swerves around.
“Oh, you don’t think I can do it, can you?” He asks, then bats at Boromir’s leg with his wooden sword. “Take that!”
Boromir, to his credit, collapses, still chucking. Merry rolls his eyes, but he, too, is smiling. Pippin extends a hand to Boromir in triumph, helping him to his feet.
“You have a determined heart, Pippin of the Shire,” Boromir marvels. “In fact, you remind me of my brother.”
“Really?” Pippin beams. “What’s he like?”
“His name is Faramir. He is a good warrior, but what he is best known for among the soldiers of Gondor is his desire to better himself. As a child, he constantly sought our father’s approval. I think he still does,” Boromir says with a sigh. “Our father is… Not the most reassuring man. He appreciates strength, not effort, and he has always gone out of his way to make that clear to Faramir.”
Pippin purses his lips, brow furrowed in thought.
“But what is significant about my brother,” Boromir continues, “Is that he is always striving to do more, to be more. He longs to live up to our father’s expectations, but more than that, his goal is to look in the mirror and feel proud of himself. That’s what makes him a person of quality.”
At this, Pippin nods.
“I think I understand,” he says. “Your brother never gives up.”
“That’s right. It’s why I admire him so.”
“I hope I can meet him someday,” Pippin muses. “And when I do, I’ll tell him all about the time I beat you in a fight.”
“Will you?” Boromir grins. “Then you’d better keep practicing!”
As it turns out, their practices are cut short, and neither of them makes it to Mordor.
After Amon Hen, Pippin mourns Boromir. Continuing the Fellowship’s journey feels wrong when they’ve lost a fellow. Aragorn explains that such is the nature of grief, a hole in one’s life that expands and contracts but never goes away. Pippin has never felt an emotion as big as this before –
Until he gazes into the Palantír and sees the Eye, and he understands fear. Pippin tells the enemy nothing, save for a constant plea to get out of his head. (And a few choice curse words.) Still, the disappointment in Gandalf’s eyes is evident, so when the wizard insists that Pippin travel with him to Minas Tirith, what can the hobbit do but oblige? Besides, Pippin is curious about the capital of Gondor, and it’s not the same sort of curiosity that drove him to look into the Palantír.
Minas Tirith, Pippin thinks, was Boromir’s home.
When Pippin meets Faramir, he sees the truth of Boromir’s words: his brother is determined, and their father, the Steward of Gondor, doesn’t appreciate him. Gandalf doesn’t know what possesses Pippin to pledge his allegiance to Denethor, but Pippin sees the sad look in the man’s eyes, and Aragorn’s words resound inside his head: grief never goes away.
The war goes on. Pippin continues to train. He walks beside Faramir as Guard of the Citadel, and he befriends this man whose gaze is an echo of Boromir’s: softer, but fierce at its core.
Then the siege of the city begins, and Denethor goes mad. Pippin stands in the funeral chamber, unsettled. He knows what it’s like to feel an all-consuming feeling – but when he sees Denethor climb onto the pyre and the guards drag Faramir’s body into the chamber, he realizes that something is wrong. For Pippin can see the rise and fall of Faramir’s chest, weak though his breathing is. Would Denethor take himself and his only living son to the grave?
“No,” Pippin sobs, clawing at Denethor’s robes. “Don’t do this to yourself. He’s alive – he’s alive!”
Pippin is promptly kicked out of the chamber, but he doesn’t yield. Gandalf will know what to do,he thinks. Sure enough, with the wizard’s help, Pippin rescues Faramir. They are unable to do the same for Denethor, and the sight of him on fire, running toward his own destruction, burns itself into Pippin’s mind more deeply than the image of the Eye ever could.
Days pass. Pippin does not leave Faramir’s bedside until he wakes. The hobbit has been more loyal to Faramir than anyone else in the man’s life, save for Boromir. Yet Pippin still does not expect it when Faramir opens his eyes, smiles at the sight of him, and murmurs,
“You, Peregrin Took, remind me of my brother.”
Pippin laughs – he even cries, a little – and then he says,
“Well, then. Let me tell you about the time I kicked his ass.”
****
Thank you for reading. ♡ If you'd like, leave a comment or kudos on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!
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imakemywings · 2 years ago
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In the Third Age, what kind of relationship did Thranduil have with the remaining great Elves (Galadriel, Elrond, Círdan, Glorfindel and Celeborn) who were still in Middle Earth? How do you think they felt about him and vice versa? Also, what kind of presence would Thranduil have at council (such as a meeting of the White Council or the Council of Elrond), in your opinion?
ANON. I am now ready to answer this. Apologies for the delay, this week has been a doozy (#`-_ゝ-)
Basically everything I'm about to say is based on my own headcanons, because we really don't get any information about how Thranduil relates to the rest of Middle-earth. The only one of Tolkien's writings he features prominently in (The Hobbit) doesn't even address him by name (he's just "the Elvenking").
Luckily for YOU anon, I spend a stupid amount of time thinking about this guy so I am happy to fill in the gaps lol
My view of Thranduil's relationship with the other Elves is based on a couple of things, which are hinted at by various pieces of canon but which are in no way confirmed canon:
Thranduil was Doriathrim
Thranduil was present at both the later Kinslayings
Thranduil chose to stay in Middle-earth and help his father rebuild a home for the remnants of their people rather than take the chance to sail West
And some things which are canon:
Oropher chose to march his armies separately to Mordor rather than join under the banner of Gil-galad during the War of the Last Alliance
Oropher purposefully moved the capitol of Greenwood the Great further north to get away from the influence of Galadriel and Celeborn in Lorien
Mirkwood was left to manage the damage of the Necromancer on its own for hundreds, possibly a couple thousand years.
So you can see why Thranduil, in my view, begins from a place of deep distrust of the Noldor and a desire or a feeling that Greenwood/Mirkwood is separate and apart from the other Elven realms.
Thingol, king and founder of Doriath, and Oropher are both shown to be relatively cautious in politics. They tend to prefer keeping to their own and letting the events of other realms play out as they will. That is not to say they are completely isolationist, but that they tend to be deliberate when engaging with others.
There are hints in canon, I believe--such as Thranduil's creating his own palace in memory of Menegroth--that Thranduil takes his lead from Thingol and Oropher, which would suggest he also takes a cautious approach to politics. In The Hobbit we see that he is very wary of what the Dwarves are up to, unwilling to let them pass until he knows their intentions, and Mirkwood is generally described as a somewhat reclusive place, despite the trade it keeps up with Laketown.
All of this to say that I think Thranduil, at his best, would be cautious in dealing with the other Elven realms. Then we add to this that he has dislike and distrust for the Noldor, and I find it hard to imagine he's particularly buddy-buddy with any of them.
With that set-up, I'm going to put the rest of this under a cut.
There are also plenty of elements here of things I just find entertaining, aside from my little justifications up there so I'm just admitting that up front.
Galadriel - Absolutely not. She is not only a Noldo, she's a Finwean. We know the Arafinweans in general tended to believe they were not as guilty as the Feanorians in Alqualonde (whether that's true or not is certainly up for debate) so I can't imagine she considered herself in any way connected to the later Kinslayings. Thranduil, right or wrong, feels Galadriel is obliged to apologize for the actions of her family and officially, publicly distance herself. Galadriel feels this is unfair and unnecessary, because she didn't kill anyone, and why should she apologize for her stupid, warmongering cousins? Thranduil would suggest her refusal to apologize means she doesn't think what happened was that serious. And so on and so forth. They do not get along, although it is, I believe, considerably more personal on Thranduil's end. Galadriel is mostly just vaguely annoyed.
Celeborn - No. Celeborn is not only a Sindar, but a Doriathrim, and he chose to run off and marry a Noldo? A Finwean? Thranduil has absolutely zero respect for Celeborn and considers it his solemn duty to beat him at anything he can at any chance he gets. Celeborn does not want to be a part of this. Celeborn wants Galadriel to intervene. Galadriel thinks Celeborn shouldn't take it so personally. Thranduil otherwise will ignore Celeborn as much as possible.
Círdan - I don't really see these two having much of a relationship. Thranduil respects Cirdan for his age and what he's done for the rest of the Elves. I suppose "venerated elder" is about how Thranduil sees him. I'm not sure they'd have had cause to meet before the last of the Elves sail West.
Glorfindel - I think they don't interact much to have opinions. Thranduil has respect for Glorfindel's actions in during the collapse of Gondolin, and he's apt to think less harshly of the Gondolindrim than other Noldor-adjacent types because of how the Gondolindrim and Doriathrim lived together at the Havens before the Third Kinslaying. So he's probably rather neutral about Glorfindel, but Elrond's opinion of Glorfindel gives him some extra points.
Elrond - I could probably write a small essay about this. Elrond is the last living member of Doriath's royal family. In Thranduil's mind, this means he automatically owes Elrond his loyalty. Furthermore, the fate Elrond suffered as a child makes Thranduil feel as though he owes him for not being able to save him from the Feanorians, nor Elwing either. I do think also, especially in the beginning, Thranduil was suspicious of Elrond’s Feanorian upbringing. (They generally do not discuss Maedhros and Maglor--it never goes anywhere productive.) All of this was rather a lot for them to get past, but I think they did get around, so that these things are rather minor in Thranduil's mind now (though still present). Generally, I think they're friends. Elrond is very hard to dislike for one, and I think it would mean something to him to hear from someone who had known his mother's people, and been a part of his grandfather and great-grandmother's kingdom. Thranduil can tell Elrond things about his Sindar heritage Maglor and Maedhros would have just had no reason to know. I like to think their families became somewhat close. Legolas, when I write him, will call Elrond's children his "cousins" even though they have no blood relation. I think Thranduil remains some measure of protectiveness over Elrond, in that if he were in a position to do something to alleviate stress or danger on Elrond's behalf, he would, but I think he also has great respect for Elrond's wisdom and diplomatic skill. He considers it testament to Elwing that her child turned out so well even given his circumstances.
Also, I have this fic that features some Elrond-Thranduil friendship.
As to councils -
As noted, Thranduil is somewhat reclusive. My own personal "just for fun" headcanon is that the longer he sits the throne, the more reluctant he becomes to leave the forest due to a symbiotic relationship between the king of the Wood-elves and the forest. But even setting that aside, we're not given any indication in canon that he's particularly active or even welcome in these councils.
He is important, as the last Elvenking east of the sea, but Mirkwood, by midway through the Third Age, also has its hands full with the situation in the forest, and I think that takes up the better part of Thranduil's energy and attention. Furthermore, we know Mirkwood's forces never really recover from the losses inflicted on them during the War of the Last Alliance, so whatever military support Thranduil can offer the others is greatly reduced from what Oropher had been able to contribute.
I also tend to think Elrond gets stuck playing peacemaker between Thranduil and Galadriel (and Celeborn).
In terms of general presence, Thranduil I believe can come off as rather aloof and cold, although we know he is sympathetic and vastly prefers peace to war. I think he tends to speak more harshly than he really feels, which affects how others see him, of course. It's easier to take his words at face value if you don't know him much.
The more serious Mirkwood's problems become, though, I think the more resentful he becomes that they're having to deal with the Necromancer alone and that no one seems to believe he's being realistic when he says Sauron might not be gone. However, I think he does still recognize the importance of all of the Elven realms remaining, so I think he is still somewhat sympathetic to Elrond and Galadriel needing to protect their own spaces. That said, they do both have rings of p*ower, while he does not (which, of course, contributes to why Imladris and Lothlorien are in so much better shape than Mirkwood...)
So there it is! I'm attached to Thranduil's somewhat petty rivalry with Galadriel and Celeborn and committed to his being friends or at least friendly neighbors with Elrond.
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dimdiamond · 3 years ago
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Bagginshield fic list
Yeah, I decided to make one too because there are enough to cause me headaches and I'd like to have them somewhere organized. Please look at the tags before reading them!
Fix-it fics
Desperate magic by BeautifulFiction: Bilbo is left to tend Thorin as he hovers on the brink of death after the Battle of the Five Armies. Is love enough to save Erebor's king, or is this the last farewell?
Lay your troubles down by Avelera: An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.
The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction: The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?
The Color of Possibility by lindoreda: When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.
Homesick by Margo_Kim: Five years after they've reclaimed Erebor, Thorin is sick of home, Bilbo is just sick, and neither is handling the situation ideally.
The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe: In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.
Notices in the Paper by YamBits: Bilbo returns to the Shire after his adventure, newly married, and newly homeless, after his two year absence allowed the Sackville-Bagginses to obtain Bag End. Bilbo and Thorin go to the Tooks for help, and find newly orphaned Frodo Baggins, also looking for a home.
A Royal Guardianship by ladyoakenshields: When Bilbo and Thorin return to the Shire for a sabbatical during Yuletide, they find a reason to retire the throne in Erebor sooner than expected.
The Shire's gems by awkwarng3: Thorin, Bilbo, and Frodo move to the Shire after raising Frodo in Erebor, and Frodo makes a friend.
Time travel fix-it fics
An expected journey by MarieJacquelyn: For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right? Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.
Bilbo Baggins, warrior of the Valar by Pallalalo: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” #The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?
I'll die to care for you by thehufflepuffhobbit: His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try." "Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning. Or:Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.
Darker times ahead by Reach4theSky: Bilbo is sailing to the Undying Lands but wary of letting go of the guilt that has been with him for many decade. His most sincerest wish is to go back and change what was done. Before reaching the lands of peace and healing, he dies aboard the ship and finds that his wish is being granted, not because he is the one to wish it but because this is the dwarves last chance to escape a fate of eternal waiting. He finds that not only is he going to be sent back to his younger body, but so is the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Time is a fickle thing and not all the members have their memories returned to them at the same time. The journey on becomes interesting as the dwarves slowly remember and fight for themselves and their kin, yet new hurdles are thrown at them when they realize that more people remember than expected...
Of an arcane binding by Salvia_G: An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor.
Legends by DomesticGoddess: The fellowship has set out on its noble quest to destroy the ring and put an end to the threat that is Sauron! Just set out really, barely left the gates of Imladris, but things are going smoothly enough so far. That is until the two most unlikely party crashers fall upon their little fellowship. Uncle Bilbo and the Legendary Thorin Oakenshield?! Frodo just wants to know what's going on but the two of them won't stop hollering at each other long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. Suddenly, their little group is joined by Frodo's two biggest heroes and he discovers there was a lot more to Uncle Bilbo's stories than he realized.
Beside myself by bliboboggins: "What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.
Erebor never fell au fics
The hearth doesn't make the home by Moonrose91: For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.
Clarity of vision by Mithen: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Ghivashel by mdseiran: The last thing Bilbo expects when he stays up late one night is company. The strange dwarf and his companion crash into his life and prove unexpected saviours. But the dwarf seems to think he will be joining them on their travels, and Bilbo has no such intentions.
The Song of My Heart by DomesticGoddess: After a failed attempt of trying to carve out a new home in the Blue Mountains for his people, Thorin finds himself beseeching the Hobbit Thain and his council for a place for his people in their bountiful land. An agreement is struck and plans in the works for integrating his people into their land. The only condition being an arranged marriage between himself and one of their family heads. A small price to pay to see his people safe and well fed. Unfortunately, he’s to marry the most disagreeable hobbit in all the Shire who also seems to hold a personal grudge against him. If only he could figure out why his new betrothed hates him so much.
Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.
Karkûn shukula - A Cinderella AU by harrypanther: When the Prince of the Shire visits the Kingdom of Erebor, there is great excitement. There are hopes he will choose to marry one of the Royal Family, cementing an alliance that would secure food supplies for the dwarven Kingdom and gain new allies. All eligible dwarves are expected to attend a series of Balls. Unknown to the guests, there is a third royal child, manoeuvred out by his ambitious stepmother, for whom this may be his last chance of restoring his fortunes and escaping his fate…
Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat: 'Alone this Yuletide? Irritated with prying and nosey family members? I am an out of work blacksmith currently trying to make my way by any means necessary that does not involve my resorting to thievery (prisons are most uncomfortable, I've unfortunate first hand experience). However, if you would like me to be your strictly platonic companion for any social function, but have me pretend that we are in a serious courtship, so as to torment your family and ward off unwanted suitors then I am more than obliging...' After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods. It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...
Modern au fics
Nothing gold can stay by perkynurples: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?
Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples: Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…
Candid by northerntrash: Thorin wasn't entirely sure why there was a six-foot candid photograph of him hanging in this exhibition, but he was going to wring the neck of whoever had put it there. In which Bilbo is a photographer, Thorin an accidental model, and Gandalf just likes to make trouble for everyone.
How the west was won and where it got us by stickman: Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands. Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up. Except one morning, someone does. [graduate school AU]
Butterfly effect by eyra: Yoga wasn’t for him. Yoga was for interesting people. Luminous people; people who took gap years and spoke a foreign language. People who ate lentils and burned incense and had fantastic, colourful friends with fantastic, colourful lives full of travel and silent retreats and those baggy trousers with elephants on them. Yoga was decidedly not for people like Bilbo, who wore cardigans and ate beans on toast and whose linguistic capabilities stretched only as far as a rusty Spanish A-Level. Just your regular story of boy meets yoga instructor.
Remover of the obstacles by MistakenMagic: "Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."
Color outside the lines by andquitefrankly: Kindergarten has just gotten significantly better. Just ask Thorin, who's got the biggest crush on the new kid in class, Bilbo Baggins. With the help of his friends, Thorin knows that he can take back the swings from the 1st graders, show up the K-1 class in the school pageant, and win the heart of one curly haired boy. Yup. Kindergarten is going to be a year to remember.
Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog): Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.
Different species au fics
I've grown a hedge around my heart by pibroch (littleblackdog): "Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs." Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him. Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.
In which the dwarves are satyrs for reasons by HiddenKitty What the title says basically.
Bride of the demon king by DomesticGoddess: Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.
Lost He Wandered Under Leaves by serenbach: Thorin son of Thrain is a struggling blacksmith descended from a fallen line of kings. In an attempt to provide for his family over the winter, he reluctantly accepts an impossible sounding task - to hunt down an enchanted deer that lives in the Old Forest that borders the Shire, and make armour and weapons from its hide and antlers. He never expected to succeed. And he certainly never expected what he found to change his life so completely.
A Dryad's Tale by Bilbo Baggins by Moongazer12: Bilbo is a dryad (think little sibling to ents). Long ago a curse was placed upon him from destroying one of the rings of power. Whenever he touches someone with his bare skin he will make them insane. But despite this, he and Gandalf have gone on many adventures to help protect Middle Earth (What was the point to destroying the ring if something else destroyed it instead?) Gandalf has called on him once again to help on a quest, Bilbo just hopes that they read his amendments to the contract.
The quest but with a twist au fics
King, come at the red morning by Tawabids: Bilbo has heard fairytales of the lost prince of the dwarves, Thorin son of Thrain, who disappeared the day Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain. But he does not believe in fairytales until he comes across the dwarf sleeping in the depths of Erebor, and kisses him back to life. Now Thorin - a hundred and fifty years out of his time - has to confront a world in which his city is empty, his people scattered, his baby brother Frerin is king, two nephews he's never met are missing in action, and a war is brewing right on his doorstep. And as if that wasn't complicated enough he's trapped in the body of an old man and falling stupidly in love with a gossipy, grudging little hobbit.
When the sun rises by Harry1981: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield. When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn. So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family). Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.
Small, but fierce by DomesticGoddess: As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about anything in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk that for all it's worth).
Your song like a home in my heart by Nennvial: In Middle Earth, all creatures have a soulmate. Not all have some, but if they do, it is a bond nothing can break, not even death. The more famous story of such a bound was the story of Bren and Luthien, who even defied detath. The way someone can find out that the other is one’s soulmate is through song: when they meet and hear the voice of the other, a song sings in their heart, which feels like home and makes them complete. They may refuse it if they wish to do so, but they hence risk a life of bitter looniness. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are soulmates, but they must admit it to themselves throughout their journey to Erebor.
To Dungeons Deep (And Caverns Old) by KingUndertheMountain: Bilbo Baggins was not your average hobbit. Of course, he had the wonderfully groomed and well-taken-care-of hairy feet like every other one of his race, yes, but he was not like other hobbits. He was cursed. Or, as the witch who gave him the enchantment put it, was “gifted”. She had given him the “gift” of obedience – whenever there was a direct command given to him, for example “cook a large meal” or “take a walk”, he could not disobey. Not without a lot of pain and eventual submission.
Chocolate candy one-shots
The world is sleeping (my world is you) by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts): I asked Persephone, “How could you grow to love him? He took you from flowers to a kingdom where not a single living thing can grow.” Persephone smiled, “My darling, every flower on your earth withers. What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” - Nikita Gill ---“What do you mean, my friend?” There is a line of thought that surfaces in Gandalf’s mind, but he drowns it before it can take root. Surely not. But Bilbo’s chuckle sets him on edge. The small, gentle god of harvest, nature, and flowers sits up straighter, and in his crown of flowers there is a wire of strong metal, his cloak is suddenly not colorful anymore but the deepest black and he is terrifying, horrific, powerful - “I married Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the World.”
Of seasons by northerntrash: As far as he could tell, he had been kidnapped, which in itself made this week more than a little unusual. In which Bilbo steals away the Lord of Death, and Thorin can't quite bring himself to stay angry about it.
Warm up by paranoid_fridge: On one of their walks, Bilbo tumbles into a stream. They make it back to Bag End and Bilbo demands Thorin warm him up.
Royal Blue And Crimson Red by Mistofstars: Here's what happened before and after Bilbo accidentally eavesdrops on Gandalf and Elrond at night in Rivendell, as they discuss Thorin's quest and his family's history. Oh, and Thorin and Bilbo share a room, of course ;)
I was young when I left home by Margo_Kim: There was a pity clapper somewhere in the third row. Thorin finished his fourth song to polite applause from the people who noticed that the song was finished, but within the smattering of claps was someone beating his hands together like he was trying to rhythmically kill a fly. There was usually one of those, the kind who notices that no one else is paying attention and so is determined to compensate for that regardless of how they feel about the actual music. Thorin ignored him. It was easy to do so—he'd always hated looking at the audience when the singing was done.
A matter of buttons by StupidFatPenguin: “Your shirt,” says Thorin, quite out of the blue, and Bilbo looks down his front to see if there is a spot of tea or jam or anything equally embarrassing spilled on it. He is relieved to find nothing of the sort and looks up at the dwarf with an eyebrow raised in question. Thorin sits mute, his still-smoking pipe forgotten in his hand. He looks on for long moments still, seems almost lost to a thought before he shifts and lifts his gaze to meet Bilbo’s inquiring face. “It is familiar to me. Did you not wear this on the eve we met?” In which Bilbo and Thorin re-enact the evening they met.
The ladder by Milliethekitty27: Inspired from a post made by wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Tired of his lonely kitchen in Yavanna's Garden, Bilbo Baggins wonders if the dwarven love of being underground is true in death. If so, maybe his dwarves are living (ha ha) under the very land Bilbo is weeding. With that thought, Bilbo goes and asks Hamfast for a shovel.
Love hobbit by HybridOwl: Bilbo Baggins considers himself a bit of a cock up, all things considered. He never made it out of his small highway adjacent town, can't seem to stop chain-smoking, and overall has more to talk about with the plants in his shop than 90% of all the rest of Middle Earth. So when he's reading the morning paper and a love note that can't be for anyone but him pops up, he's pretty sure - almost positive, really - that he's being made fun of. "TO the chain-smoking little stud who collects two metros from Gamgee's Goods every morning, will you be my love hobbit? - Bearded Biker." (heavily inspired by tumblr posts)
Fusion with other fandoms au fics
The Second Time by authoressjean; Sebastian Moran can't pull the trigger on John Watson to save his own hide, and what the hell is it with the doctor, anyway? Then Gandalf shows up, meddlesome wizard, and reminds him none too gently of his past life: as Thorin Oakenshield, leader of a company that had once included a small hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. One that looked decidedly like John Watson. And this would be the perfect chance to make things right with Bilbo the way he really hadn't been able to before he died, and that's when Gandalf tells him John doesn't remember being Bilbo, and to leave him alone. Right. Like that's going to happen.
And sow a star divided in us by MistakenMagic: Short summary: Gays in space! Longer summary: After his first successful solo mission, Jedi Knight Bilbo Baggins, trained by High Council member and full-time nuisance, Master Gandalf, returns to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. During an excursion to the sparring arena, he meets a group of Dwarven Jedi from Ered Luin, a mountainous planet located in the Outer Rim. Young padawans, Fili and Kili, are full of curiosity at this strange, barefoot Jedi, but Master Thorin, who appears to have the personality of a rancor and mental shields like blast doors, is less than impressed.
Comics you should definitely check
Every work by rutobuka, seriously they're criminally cute and they're not still favored by everyone without reason.
Retelling the Hobbit by Mellow_Comics: Bilbo has never been good at telling the "true" story of what happened on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Now he's trying to turn the tale of his quest into a lighthearted children's book-- a bedtime story for his young nephew Frodo. But what really happened on his journey? And how did it actually affect him? This is a comic adaptation/retelling of the Hobbit! It's framed as a bedtime story that Bilbo is telling a younger Frodo.
For now these are some of my personal favourites! However, I'm sure my list will grow since my reading list has some gems still waiting for me to read, so be certain that there will be a part 2 of this list!
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secretmellowblog · 3 years ago
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unpopular opinion: tolkien knew about gay people and deliberately put them in his books
(Unpopular Opinions meme!)
strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree
As a gay(tm) who has loved Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit since I was a babey, I have very Complicated emotions about this lol.
On one hand: yes, Tolkien knew and praised many of his gay contemporaries, and a lot of the homoeroticism in his books is based on legends/folklore that were Even More homoerotic. The idea that Tolkien just didn’t know homosexuality existed because gay people were apparently invented in 2003 is ridiculous. Etc, etc.
And I deeply empathize with the desire to prove that the gay subtext in the original books was intentional. Like: there's a bit in the commentary of the PJ films where gay actor Ian McKellan talks about how he deliberately tried to ensure the homoerotic elements of the book were preserved, like the scene in Rivendell where Frodo wakes up and Sam immediately rushes over to take his hand. And when I first heard that bit of the commentary, it changed the scene forever for me? There was something really special about knowing that the gay subtext in that scene wasn't just there, it was Intentional(tm).
So I really understand wanting to prove that Tolkien intended for the story to be gay-- that he wasn't just a conservative catholic who stumbled into gayness by accident, that he wrote it intentionally. That he was creating this world with you in mind, that he WANTED you to be there, that he wanted you to see your own experiences in his story and feel like you belonged in Middle Earth.
But at the same time my Real attitude is this:
Fuck Tolkien's intent! lol.
I do not care what he intended.
He has been dead for decades!
And he was Just Some Guy. Some random sad guy with a lot of Baggage who wrote a lot of things.
My personal attitude is that I don't need this conservative catholic dead white guy's approval, and while I understand how impactful it can be to find evidence that I was “intended” to be part of a story that means a lot to me I'm not going to scrub through Tolkien's biography and letters searching for a scrap of this random sad dead man's Validation.
And even if all the gay stuff in Tolkien's world was intentional, it wouldn't fix most of the problems I have with his work-- like the virulent racism/colonialism and the patronizing sexism.
So if Tolkien wants to stop me from writing my dumb gay hot takes he'll have to crawl out of his grave and fight me over it!! asdfksdfs. But if he did crawl out of his grave and fight me I'd let him win because he is a Sad Man and I'd feel sorry for him. ;_; However  I doubt he will.
Idk, I feel like a lot of LOTR fans (including me) have gotten anons complaining at them about how "reading gay subtext into Tolkien is against the author's intent" or whatever excuse they're using to be homophobic now. And it's so tempting to respond to those anons by arguing "no, it isn't against Tolkien's intent! Tolkien DID intend it!" And as I mentioned before I do think there’s value in analyzing authorial intent; I do believe that knowing the author’s intent *does* change the feeling of the story.
But honestly like.......I think there's more value in tearing down the assumption that Tolkien's intent is the Only key to interpreting his work, that you are obligated to Agree with everything Tolkien intended, and that all adaptations/fanfic/headcanons need to be "true to Tolkien's intent" to be good or meaningful.
My Hot Take is that the only one who benefits from obsessing over the Inherent Value of Tolkien's intent are whatever corporation currently own the rights Tolkien's intent, lol XD. If Amazon is the only one who is legally allowed to profit off of Tolkien's Vision, then it's in Amazon's best interest to insist that Tolkien's Vision is the only correct way to interpret his work. So gay people won’t exist in Middle Earth until Amazon decides it’s more profitable for them to exist. But eyyy
#asdfkljsdfsdkfj sorry I have a lot of feelings about lotr#(you seem like a nice anon! Im not arguing with you at all. I just have feelings)#(I dont mean to sound combative!! I just used this as an excuse to ramble lol )#(using this as an excuse to yell feelings into the void)#idk I feel similarly about Tolkien as I do Victor Hugo#they were weird traumatized flawed old white dudes#they wrote some nice stuff!!! and a lot of stuff I disagree with#Idk i don't think either of them are good Authorities on the Meaning of Life. They're both just some guy#But I think Les Mis has really benefitted from being in the public domain#being fREED from Victor Hugo's intent#while the Lord of the Rings Franchise(tm) has sorta become...a monster?#a monster shackled to the corpse of its author?#In large part because of the way the studio system/film industry/games industry works#instead of trying to unshackle Lord of the Rings from Tolkien#people try to retroactively change who Tolkien was#idk there's a trend in the lotr fandom of trying to retroactively make Tolkien a better person than he was#and the Lord of the Rings books more progressive than they were#to the point of denying or erasing some of the most vile elements of the series in a way that makes me uncomfortable#there's a difference between reinterpreting lotr to be more progressive#vs#'there was never any racism in lotr! there was never any sexism!'#the les mis fandom is generally more willing to acknowledge the author was a Hot Mess#sdkfjsdfdsf thats a tangent though
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rivalsforlife · 2 years ago
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Finally Making A Post Of Everything I’ve Ever Thought During The First Two Episodes Of Rings Of Power. I was going to do it sooner but wasn’t doing well for a weekend and then forgot. SO here it is to add to the Tolkien Adaptation Opinions pile while I delay going back to the jackson hobbit movies.
Please keep in mind this (and other posts I’ll make about this show) will have spoilers for stuff that will happen later that’s in the books, on the off chance a) people are reading this b) people don’t know what happens in the books and don’t want to be spoiled for it happening in the show. okay. here it is. This is mostly for me, please don’t feel obligated to read it got really long and rambly.
I’ll try to keep this coherent and go chronologically somewhat but I don’t feel like watching two hours again so I’m going off of memory. I’ll try to be more on top of it for the next episode haha.
SO honestly I wasn’t feeling it for a while but luckily I warmed up to it a bit more as it went on. I wasn’t a fan of the other elves bullying Galadriel in the beginning since she’s like... their princess. (Unless they’re sons of Feanor. I DID spot a redhead. I’m assuming that’s either Amrod or Amras since Maedhros should be quite significantly older than her.) I’ve read stuff since saying that it’s alluding to the kinslaying despite the part where they can’t use the kinslaying since it isn’t mentioned in the appendices and I can appreciate that but it just came off kind of odd to me.
Crazy we got to see Finrod though!! He... did not look how I expected. But honestly I don’t think there will ever be an adaptation that will do the Silm Elves the way I imagine them, except maaaybe if it were animated. I did laugh at the “I won’t always be here to tell them to you” “You won’t?” bit because I do think it’s in character for Mr. “AN OATH TOO I SHALL SWEAR AND MUST BE FREE TO FULFILL IT AND GO INTO DARKNESS”. finrod man can you have a normal conversation with galadriel for once.
Also like I mentioned in my immediate fairly spoiler-free opinions post I made just after I got back from seeing it in the theaters, it is weird seeing them skip over my favorite parts of my favorite book. “We left Valinor and went to Middle-Earth” YEAH A LOT HAPPENED IN BETWEEN THERE. but it’s fine. It’s not a Silm adaptation. It’s fine. It’s fine........
Oh also I did start getting a little teary when I saw the trees, but it was too brief for me. I think if they had a longer scene with the trees and the beauty of Valinor before Morgoth destroyed them it would have Hit a little bit more, but I’ll live.
The main Problem I have is that they seemingly changed Finrod’s death. Or at least didn’t talk about him dying to protect Beren, which I really think is an important thing to keep in given the Ring of Barahir (formerly Finrod’s) is an heirloom of some of the Numenoreans, and if you’re having Galadriel go there why not capitalize on that!! Plus him going after Sauron felt kinda... unnecessary. I think you could totally have Galadriel desiring revenge against Sauron without Finrod also having that vendetta. Like, “My brother was captured and tormented by Sauron” would be vague enough but also consistent with canon. I kind of wonder why they did it that way... 
Anyways I should take this opportunity to talk about The #Girl Of All Time. I like that they didn’t shy away from making her proud and headstrong. Though they did change her motivations to something more relatable than the version I prefer which is the “I want to stay here and rule my own kingdom, because I am more powerful here”. And honestly I’m kind of vibing with it. Like, I love Aragorn, they completely changed him in the Jackson movies, but I still really liked his character in spite of it being different. So I can go with Galadriel here.
The main parts that bugged me about the Galadriel parts is kind of... her status among the elves. Particularly her relationship with Gil-galad. I get GG is the High King and such but Galadriel is his... aunt. cousin once removed. relative who is older than him. who knows. but you don’t get that impression, and she can’t even really go and talk to him herself. Overall GG is the one I’ve been most disappointed by so far, and I’m really hoping that changes as we learn his motivations more, because I really do want to be sad when he dies. I want to be able to potentially accept him as the son of one of my favorite characters. And so far I’m not feeling it.
Elrond too came off a little bit too... insincere at times. Particularly in the first episode. Too politician-y in particular. Which is honestly a major letdown for me considering that I loved all the interviews his actor did. I’m hoping, again, that gets better -- I did like him more in the second episode, so hopefully it was just a bit of a rough start.
ALSO. THE HUAN STATUE. I’m assuming that’s Luthien with him!!! That’s such a nice reference I love it. I also saw a video pointing out another statue seemingly depicting an elf holding the dragon helm of dor-lomin and theorizing it’s FINGON which is also very emotional. Other theories are that it’s Beleg. We didn’t get a close-up shot like the one with Huan so I can’t tell if there’s seemingly “plaits braided with gold” there. but maaaaan fingon :( still the silm death that gets me the most.
Let’s see what else... Galadriel going to Valinor was on my “I Do Not Want This” list. but I think they did it about as well as they could. I get they’re trying to have a representation of her refusal to go to Valinor that’s not just her standing there and saying “I refuse”, and trying to fully capture like the weight of what it means to her to refuse that call, and I can stand by that even though I don’t like the circumstances that she was kind of forced into it by GG and Elrond. The Golden Portal-looking thing felt a little much though it didn’t bother me as much as it bothered my dad. And I didn’t mind her jumping into the ocean honestly. I don’t think it was a calculated decision at all. It was out of desperation to avoid going to Valinor no matter what. like Amroth, which is fitting, though Galadriel got luckier.
... Stuff other than Noldor happened in this first episode too but I have far less opinions on them. 
Harfoots: They’re cute. I like how they still have some of that Hobbit flavor to them with the gossipy ladies. They aren’t my favorite parts because I am tragically whipped for anything Noldor-related, but they’re so far a perfectly fine part of the story.
I’ll just do the episode 2 stuff here since I don’t really have much more to say on specific events. The Stranger... I don’t think he’s Sauron. Though he clearly is a Maiar of some sort. I don’t want him to be Gandalf? I’ll be fine with him being a Blue Wizard. One theory I have going around my head (though I’m not sold on it) is that he’s a maiar of some sort who got tortured by Sauron and escaped in the meteor somehow. I think he’s lost control over his powers which is the cause of the firefly killing thing. It’s interesting how his arrival kind of coincides with Galadriel refusing the call, plus all the stuff GG says about Galadriel inadvertently awakening evil, but I think it would be too much for him to be Sauron right now. I really don’t want Sauron interacting with Hobbits or pre-Hobbits because I think that really takes away from the later third age stuff. so... yeah.
I did have Tom Bombadil as my joke theory but I think he’s way too troubled for him. So... maybe someday Tom :( I believe in you. You’ll get into something that isn’t the bad Soviet TV adaptation of Fellowship or Lego LOTR.
Southlands: It’s an interesting concept considering my immediate reaction to hearing that their ancestors sided with Morgoth was along the lines of “THAT FUCKER ULFANG THAT GOT FINGON KILLED.” so I can buy the elves holding a grudge. It’s an interesting thing with the elves distinctly remembering these people who did things that messed up pretty much everything, and sided with Morgoth, in their own living memory, while for the humans this was a thousand(s) years ago and there’s really no reason for them to still be there.
I don’t love the romance, but I didn’t expect to, because I don’t normally go for those things. The one elf made a comment of “there were only two elf-human romances and they both ended in tragedy” well.......... I get you could argue beren and luthien had a tragic ending but honestly compared to the rest of the first age that’s the happiest ending you can get. And Idril and Tuor are totally fine, the Fall of Gondolin stuff wasn’t really their fault. Think this elf guy needs to brush up on his history :/
Also there’s Aegnor and Andreth which definitely was tragic enough to not actually become a marriage, that’s kind of how I feel this Arondir-Bronwyn thing is going to turn out. (though I think Bronwyn is more likely to die first than Arondir). The kid is definitely a future Nazgul candidate with that sword with the Sauron mark on it. ummm what else. oh yeah they talk about how they had a king that’s going to come back. My bets are either on Halbrand or Theo being descendants/heirs of that king. And then whoever is the heir is absolutely going to be a Nazgul. I was debating if Halbrand could be Theo’s long lost father but honestly I think that’s unlikely, Halbrand mentioned being from the other village that got destroyed, so.
Not loving Halbrand right now either he hasn’t made much of an impression. Hopefully that gets better.
hmmm while we’re talking about Southlands stuff I liked the fight with the orc. It’s a good baseline for how dangerous orcs are for people who aren’t trained fighters! 
ANYWAYS BACK TO THE NOLDOR. CELEBRIMBOR. I was so mad about this because I hated the first picture released of Celebrimbor like I was crushed, but the actor nailed it for me in those five minutes he was around. Right from “true creation requires sacrifice” to the passive-aggressive comments about Gil-galad to the gushing about the dwarves and wanting to see them at work. All fantastic. I just wish he didn’t look like that I’m sorry mr charles edwards. Now I’m sure I’ll get over it eventually.
Anyways, in more detail, I was clutching my popcorn and kind of swinging my legs when they were talking about it being Feanor’s hammer. Forced exposition? I don’t care! They’re talking about Feanor! Every time Feanor is mentioned I’m imagining like... you know that one blind guardian tides of war song where they’re regularly going “FEAAAANOOOOR” that’s what’s going on my head every time I think of him along with pillars of fire and strobe lights. (If you’re still reading this I’m amazed.) I love that Celebrimbor has that hammer. I also liked their little exchange with Elrond talking about the Silmarils being things that created “so much beauty........ and so much pain” and Celebrimbor going “true creation requires sacrifice” THE SACRIFICE OF ELROND’S MOM AND DAD AND YOUR DAD AND UNCLES? I liked that little bit. So much fun. 
And honestly I liked the little invented story about Morgoth and the Silmarils. I don’t think it’s meant for us to take it as canon. But it is a little bit of myth that I do think Celebrimbor would latch onto. And then the “but I aspire to do far more than that” YES! BRING ME THAT CRAZY FEANORIAN ENERGY!!!
Also why do you need that forge done by Spring, mr celebrimbor... I do think it would be a lot of fun if Sauron-as-Annatar is already here. Everyone’s like Halbrand is Sauron! The Stranger is Sauron! No he’s already here he’s already talking about some nice powerful rings. 
The little comment about “The High King... cannot provide that, so he sent me you instead!” with that pained smile. I WANT NOLDOR INFIGHTING. It’s some of the best Silm parts. As the last representative of the house of Feanor Celebrimbor has to bring it against Gil-galad who is either of the House of Fingolfin or the House of Finarfin. I get Celebrimbor isn’t as extreme but a little lingering bit of that old family resentment would be sooo cool to hint at. Especially since like... who does this guy think he is! We don’t even know who is dad is! And he’s going around being the High King! (Like I said I don’t like GG so far.)
Anyways I hope we get Narvi eventually and we get to see him work with Celebrimbor making the Doors of Durin. I want to watch that Star of Feanor get carved into it. Again Celebrimbor has been here for five minutes but he’s my favorite so far, which is deeply embarrassing. I have not improved from being fifteen. I see a Feanorian and I’m spellbound. I liked how excited he was about the dwarves. It felt VERY Feanorian. I know some of them worked with the dwarves and in particular I think Feanor would have loved those guys. So Celebrimbor kind of felt the most... I don’t know how to put it. Enthusiastic. Which he should be! Totally sold on him. And I am SO relieved about that, you have no idea, that I’m willing to set aside the appearance concerns.
okay I should probably talk about the dwarves and not just what Celebrimbor thinks of the dwarves. They’re lots of fun. I do wonder where this Elrond-Durin friendship thing came from? It’s an interesting choice. Khazad-dum is beautiful, I liked the relationship between Durin and Disa, so I overall don’t have any complaints here. But I also don’t have a ton to gush about because I’m not as crazy about dwarves as I am about the Noldor. You may be able to tell.
What DOES interest me is what’s in that box at the end... it looks glowy. The obvious and simplest and best answer is that it’s Mithril. Maybe they just found it in Khazad-dum. The absolute batshit theory that’s in my head (along with the “Maglor is in this” and “the Stranger is Tom Bombadil” theories) is that it’s a Silmaril. It would be Maedhros’s Silmaril. That would break me beyond repair. It would also be really bad and really funny. If it IS a Silmaril I want nothing less than Elrond going “PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME.” but obviously it’s going to be mithril. 
... okay the thing is when I saw this in theaters I THOUGHT I heard the Valinor leitmotif when they opened the box which would definitely be a Silmaril hint, but when I rewatched when it was actually out it definitely was not that, but had some of the notes that play when you’re in Celebrimbor’s place, which is definitely more fitting for it being mithril, so crisis averted. 
uh does that cover everything? I think that covers everything I had immediate opinions on. I didn’t take notes for this which I probably should have done... well. Episode 3 is next, it’s actually surprisingly common for me to get hooked on stuff on episode 3, so I’m hoping they do that for me. It’s definitely numenor time this time which will be fun. earendil statue here I come! and maybe we’ll get to see something about that cult of morgoth eventually.
But an overall summary of my thoughts so far:
The Best: Celebrimbor
The Good: Dwarves, Harfoots, Southlands, Galadriel (with some reservations on her storyline)
The Mediocre: Elrond
The Uhh I Hope We Fix This Quick: Gil-galad
Overall I’d put it at about a 7/10. Lots of stuff I’m excited for or am at least wiling to hear out until they fully convince me about it. I’m a bit put off by some of the changes to lore re: Finrod, Gil-galad presumably forcing people to go to Valinor. But they’ve still got some time to go to convince me of that.
Look the only other adaptation that’s covering some second-age stuff we have is the Shadow of Mordor/War games talking about Celebrimbor. So as long as they do better than that (which is not hard!) I will be content. That’s my baseline and so far they are well above it ESPECIALLY on the celebrimbor front. 
I’ve been typing for an hour. I’m going to stop now. Thanks for bearing with me and if you actually read all that... incredible. Have a virtual cookie from me.
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justafairytailofinnocence · 3 years ago
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Commissions for fanfiction 💖
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Hello I've decided to open up a commission for fanfictions. Feel free to ask me to write up to 30 pages worth of writing and I will do my best.
The fanfiction can be anything you desire, whether it's a self insert or a oc even a reader I will be happy to oblige writing.
Comfort letter: $10
Pages 1-10: $20
Pages 10-20: $30
Pages 30+: $40
Feel free to DM me about payment options and descriptions for the fanfictions.
Fandoms include:
- Harry potter
- twilight
- peaky blinders
- the hobbit
- horror (please specify the type)
- pirates of the Carribbean
- disney
- if there is something that isn't listed please ask me and Ill work something out.
What I don't write:
Crossovers
Anime
Before you buy consider:
Looking at the samples and being happy with my style.
Oneshots are free
If I haven't heard of the fandom, I will send a free sample to see if your happy.
Refunds are in policy if it's something I can't write or if I decline.
Payment is upfront so then I can write you the first chapter and once your happy I will then write the rest.
Link to my ko fi page:
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akp-1327 · 4 years ago
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dear diary // chapter one
Hi, everyone! This is the first chapter of the new series I’ve started. I hope you enjoy and stick around for future chapters! 💕
Find a series “description” and other detailing here!
Word Count: ~ 5.3k
(*) Warnings: none
July 16th, 2020
Dear Diary,
Nothing would make me happier than to visit the city. The bright lights, the busy streets, the shops, the smell of car exhaust. For all the wonders I’d discover, for all the opportunities I’d face. For the experience, for the fun.
Living in a small town is boring. It’s the same, day after day. Then as soon as you bat an eye, you’ve turned eighteen and have barely left the state. Some would call me a hobbit, some would call me lazy. But it’s hard to get out of town when your family can’t really leave because of their job and you’re too scared to learn how to drive.
The diner that my parents own is great; awesome pancakes, delicious milkshakes, and every single pie flavor you could ever imagine. It’s called the Golden Griddle and it’s located right in the heart of Cedar Cove, Oregon. You’d have to be blind to miss the sunny yellow paint (that’s ever so slowly chipping away, but don’t tell my dad) smeared on the bricks.
Anyway. I’m Charlotte, but you knew that already, didn’t you? Of course you did. Well, if you needed a reminder of my sob-worthy life story...my brother and I are adopted. But you probably remembered that, right? Wow, I need to stop ranting about how you probably remember me. You’re a literal book for God’s sake.
Wait; back on topic. I want to go to see the city. So badly. Oh, and have I mentioned that I got accepted into my dream school? New York University, here I come. How have I not written about that yet? Holy crap. NYU preparations have been coming along nicely. I already have half my room packed and almost all my dorm stuff that my mom insists on buying. My brother Henry, too. He’s going to Ohio State on a football scholarship and a desire to pursue athletic training. Big dreams!
Me, you ask? Good gracious, Diary, stop interrupting! (Oh boy, I’m talking to myself. Skye would laugh...). I’m pursuing acting and theater, of course. A major in drama and a minor in production. I’m chasing the sun here, okay? I am a future Broadway star and actress with dreams as far as the eye can see!
I am ecstatic to make the big move at the beginning of August. More updates to come. Sorry if this ending was abrupt. My dad made his famous chili tonight and I gotta go get it while it’s hot and before Henry inhales it all like the vacuum he is.
Yours, Charlotte :)
*
*
The faint, familiar smell of spices filled my senses as I put the old and tattered diary down. It was a gift I got years and years ago from a friend, but I never used it. May as well start before the wild ride of my new life starts, right?
I threw my blonde hair into a bun as I walked out of my room, avoiding boxes piled up high on the floor. Right as I stepped into the hallway, however, my foot met a ball of fluff curled right outside my doorway.
“Aw, Cooper,” I cooed, leaning down and scooping the little snowball I called a dog into my arms, cradling him close, “you’re missing all the food downstairs, buddy!”
A small whimper came from him as I made my way down the stairs. Henry was spread out on the couch and watching some sort of European soccer, er, football on the TV.
“Hey, just in time!” Henry smiled, waving me over to sit next to him. I obliged, setting Cooper down onto the floor and taking a seat next to him. 
...It was crazy how he was twice my size. And how I was the older one by three whole minutes.
“What’s up, Henry?” I asked, nudging his arm. A laugh escaped his throat as he gestured to the screen and unpaused the video (wait, it was paused this entire time?). I watched the screen to see a player get hit in the head with a soccer ball.
“Hah!” Henry laughed, his deep pitch echoing off the walls. I gasped and swatted his arm.
“Henry! Laughing at someone else’s pain is so rude! What if he got a concussion that ended his career?” I said, a twinge of amusement in my tone. All in all, I loved to see my brother get all flustered. He was such a goody-two-shoes that even something like this comment would make him blow a gasket--
“He’s laughing, sis. I don’t think the dude’s hurt.” Henry said, his tone smug. Maybe college was finally really going to his head.
I shook my head with both surprise and disappointment as I stood up, gesturing for the walking vacuum to follow suit. “C’mon, knucklehead. Dinner’s almost ready.”
We both walked into the kitchen to see the finishing arrangements being set up for dinner; Mom was retrieving bowls and utensils as Dad strained the water from the elbow macaroni at the sink.
“You two are in here early,” Mom teased, giving us a side glare as she placed the bowls and spoons on the counter, “what about?”
A sweet, innocent smile crossed my face as I batted my eyelashes at her. “It just smells so good that I couldn’t stay away!”
“I’ve heard that one before, you jest. Come get your bowls.” Mom chuckled, stepping away. Henry and I grabbed a bowl right as Dad turned to us.
“Get it while it’s hot!” Dad said, grabbing a bowl of his own. Henry and I both dove for the noodles and chili, somehow managing to get our servings without making a complete mess like we usually do. It’s crazy to think of how people mature over time...
The old seats at the table squeaked as we all sat down and started to dig into our chili. A comfortable silence blanketed the table and just as I got used to it, Mom broke it.
“So, you two have been packing, yes? Even the stuff you aren’t bringing?” Mom asked sweetly, dabbing a napkin at the corners of her mouth. She’d always been the politest one in the family; too bad no one else at the table had her mannerisms.
“My room is basically packed except for some of my clothes and books,” I said in between chews of the (extremely hot) chili in my mouth, “but otherwise I’m good.”
Henry nodded and pointed his thumb at me, his eyes never leaving his bowl. “Mhmm.”
“That’s great! Your flights leave in only a matter of days!” Dad cheered, giving Mom a high five. It was such a weird but common thing to see parents do: act like teenagers.
“You sound excited about that?” Henry questioned. I looked over to see half his bowl already gone. 
Mom heaved a sigh.
“We’re excited for you both to finally experience the world. We can’t wait for your lives to truly start!” Mom said, a smile encompassing her features. Her kind, brown eyes flitted between Henry and me.
“You two have the world at your fingertips,” Dad added, glancing at Mom. They shared a fond look. 
At that moment, for the briefest second, I wished that I had a connection like that; a soulmate, someone who you could spill your heart out to. Someone who you could love and be loved by. Someone who’d want nothing more than to see you happy. 
Also at that moment, I decided that I would make it a small goal of mine to make this wish come true during my time at NYU.
*
*
My blankets were soft around my legs as I sat propped up against my pillows. Leila and I had been talking on the phone all night. I felt like I was in that moment in Mean Girls where Gretchen was switching between Cady, Karen, and Regina. Except...I wasn’t switching between anyone at the moment. 
Leila Maciel is my best friend. She’s someone with a sarcastic personality and a snarky remark to anything. She’s as smart as a whip and could, without a doubt, put you in your place if you stepped out of line with her intimidating strength. Though, she also has a soft and caring side that she only reveals to those who she deems trustworthy. A confident, kind, and bold girl indeed. 
We’ve been friends for our entire high school careers, but it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.
During our freshman year, Leila was in an extremely toxic relationship. Her ex-girlfriend, a “sweet” but a rather manipulative girl, was to blame for our friendship. This girl, Sadie, ticked all of Leila’s boxes; beautiful, smart, compassionate, sweet... 
Remember that Leila and I had only known each other for a month at this point.
Leila and Sadie’s relationship was adorable from the outside. Both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed freshmen with hearts in their eyes. It was something you’d see in a more realistic version of High School Musical because let’s be real...those movies aren’t realistic. (I still love them, though!)
About a year into their relationship, though, Sadie transformed from sweet to sour. She used Leila to get what she wanted like she was her very own puppet. Her antics ranged from cheating on tests to almost stealing a designer handbag before I intervened. Then, like the cherry on top of this extremely nasty sundae, Sadie revealed that she cheated on Leila with a college girl for the majority of their relationship. Let’s just say that their relationship was terminated seconds after that bombshell blew up.
Leila was broken for months. She truly believed that she loved Sadie, but upon further examination, I found that Leila felt guilty whenever she had the opportunity to say no. It had never been any sort of love; it was an obligation. Also after that relationship, Leila decided that instead of focusing on liking girls, she’d be open and love anyone. She was sick of limits.
So, here we are today.
Now, as we talked on the phone, I thought about how she’d also be going to NYU, majoring in business. We were roommates! It was like a dream come true.
“Uh, Charlotte?” Leila asked with a laugh. “You alive?”
Reality snapped back into place as I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Oh, uh, yeah. What’d you say?”
“Did you buy a fan for our dorm?” Leila asked monotonously. This made me laugh for some odd reason. “Dear Lord, what’s so funny?”
Honestly, though. What was funny, Charlotte? One could say that I was losing my mind.
“I don’t know, spur of the moment? But otherwise, yes; I got the one you pointed out at Target.” I said, surprising myself with how even my voice sounded. A familiar hum came from the other end of the line in response.
“Cool. Then you’re all set to go for next week?” Leila asked, her voice making it sound like she was smiling. I laughed again and nodded to myself.
“Yes!” Was all I could say.
Leila’s sigh was so loud that I could swear that I felt her breath through the phone. “You’re not stressing out over this, are you?”
My eyes widened at her question. Was I stressing out about this? I’d been packing for days on end without breaks. I had folded, re-folded, and re-re-folded all of my clothes several times in my duffel bag. I had splurged on so many things, like that fan Leila mentioned, without a second thought. I don’t think I’ve had a proper shower in almost a week; I was too busy being a nervous wreck.
“Maybe a little bit, but not too much,” I responded, my tone a bit somber as I tried to conceal my lie. My fingers twirled the fringed fabric of my tie blanket around as I waited for Leila’s retort.
“Stressing out over this is like a circle, Charlotte. It’s pointless,” Leila said, her voice starting to reveal her exhaustion, “and you need to relax. We’ll be fine.”
Thoughts buzzed through my mind as I contemplated her words. Would we be fine? Is “fine” even the correct word to describe this situation? How about rephrasing the entire statement entirely by saying “there is a chance that we’ll survive, but it definitely ain’t high.”? That version was more accurate, in all honesty. Moving across the country for school didn’t sound like a situation that could only earn the word “fine”.
“Aren’t you worried, though? A big city, a new city, a scary city...we’re diving into the deep end here, Leila! We have no idea what the hell we’re doing!” I panicked, squeezing my eyes closed.
Now it was Leila’s turn to laugh uncontrollably. Though, hers was more of a witch’s cackle.
“Wow, okay. First of all, we’ll stick together. Second, not knowing what we’re doing is all apart of the college experience. We’ll seriously be okay if we stick together.” Leila assured, still laughing - she never was the sympathetic type in these types of situations.
“If you think so, then I guess I need to believe it.” I yawned, tucking myself further into my blankets. Leila broke out into a yawn as well, making me think that she was actually tired for once (the girl was the definition of a night owl).
“We should get some sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.” Leila stated. I could imagine her rolling her brown eyes at her own words. A laugh escaped me instead of the hum I intended on.
“Jesus, why do you keep laughing? Why do you have so much energy?” Leila groaned, making my laughter subside.
“I honestly don’t know, I’m a complete and utter mess. We’ll text tomorrow?” I suspired, resting my arm over my eyes to completely block out this embarrassing reality.
“You bet. Love you lots.” Leila said. Her declarations of love truly became more meaningful after that whole spectacle with Sadie. She had a ginormous heart of gold beneath that rough exterior.
“Love you more! Good night!” I said, hanging up after she murmured a farewell. I tossed my phone onto the soft fabric of my blanket and stared up at the ceiling, a nostalgic feeling washing over me. All of the nights during elementary school where I’d do this exact thing, except I would be thinking about my Barbie dolls or my recess adventures. Now, I thought about the future and what waited for me.
College better live up to its well-known reputation.
*
*
Before I could comprehend what was even happening, I was standing in the middle of Portland’s airport with the arms of my family around me. 
Days legitimately whizzed past with nothing short of a greeting. I mean, it was already August 4th...somehow.
“You have all your bags, right?” Dad asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit. I looked down at my belongings for the fourth time; a large duffel bag of clothes, a chest full of dorm stuff and personal items (including that stupid fan, yes), and a very large and heavy carry-on stuffed with all of my technology. And, for the fourth time, I confirmed that I had everything.
“It’s all here, Dad. For the last time.” I giggled, shaking my head. He could only respond with his usual eye roll and grin.
“What about Leila? Are you completely positive that she’s on your flight?” Mom asked, her eyes inspecting mine. A sigh freed itself from my lungs as I nodded.
“She’s already waiting for me by the baggage area, Mom. You even saw her when we walked in, remember?” I stated, returning her inspecting gaze as she fondly smiled in remembrance.
My hands were reaching down to pick up my bags before Henry lightly punched my shoulder. “Wait, whoa, where’s the love, sis?”
“It’s hiding from you,” I teased, punching his shoulder before I pulled him close for a tight hug, “I’m gonna miss you bunches, you know.”
Henry’s grip tightened before he pulled back to show me the tears in his eyes. I gave him a sad smile, knowing that familiar look in his eye; he agreed but didn’t want to admit it.
“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll only be a call away if you ever need to talk to me,” I said, putting my hands on his shoulders, “and I’ll be a nine hours’ drive away if you ever need me in person.”
He cracked a smile that was identical to my own and let out a deep breath that turned into a shaky laugh.
“Shut up, midget. Go catch your flight.” Henry laughed, shaking his head to compose himself. His blonde hair was tucked away in a red hat with a big, fancy ‘O’ embroidered in gray and black on its face. My heart swelled with pride to see it, too.
“Ditto!” I laughed while reaching down to grab my bags. “Well, I ought to get going. Leila’s been waiting on me for a while”
“Travel safely and call us when you land, no matter the time!” Mom said, hugging Dad and pulling Henry close. My eyes burned with tears as I nodded.
“Can do,” I shakily breathed, “I love you guys.”
Mom blew kisses my way and Dad smiled. Even Henry gave me a rare, genuine grin. I waved, and with a final glance, turned around and headed to the gate that was just behind me without looking back.
The weight of the bags in my hands doubled with each step towards Leila. She was sitting in the waiting area, her bags all around her, scrolling through her phone. Her straight black shoulder length hair was accessorized with a jade green headband, matching her comfy outfit that consisted of a matching jade green tee and a pair of workout leggings.
“Took you long enough, you slowpoke!” Leila smiled, patting the blue seat next to her as she tucked her phone in her backpack. I dropped my bags in relief as I sat down next to her. “How emotional were your parents?”
“Enough to make me almost cry?” I laughed, wiping the wetness below my eyes. “Well, maybe I did cry a little.”
Leila laughed and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “It doesn’t take much to make you cry, Charlotte. But I am beyond glad to see that you held in most of your alligator tears.”
We both laughed, though our laughter faded after about a minute, turning into a stressed silence...
“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” I said while taking a deep breath. After almost a year of building up the nerves, the day was finally here.  College...adulthood...life...
Leila turned to me, her eyes showing the most vulnerability that I’ve ever seen in them, and took a deep breath with me. “We may be crazy, but at least we’re crazy together.”
*
*
Bag security was a surprising breeze; little to no lines and no troubles. The security guys even smiled at me. Talk about weird.
Waiting for the flight time was tiring. I did, however, get a text from Henry saying that he’d successfully reached his gate and would be taking off for Ohio at dusk. So that was at least something to keep me occupied for a good two minutes.
Another distraction was to play matchmaker with Leila. It was our favorite pastime in high school, so why not continue the tradition?
“Ooh, that business guy over there wearing the red tie, and...” Leila trailed off, scanning the rows of seats until her eyes focused on a woman talking animatedly on the phone only a few feet away, “her.”
“Wait, the Adrian Raines-looking guy paired with that preppy woman?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. Leila hummed with approval next to me, making me cringe immediately; why, and how, would that work? They were polar opposites!
“Leila, listen. He looks like the type of guy that’d bite your head off if you gave him the wrong coffee order and she looks like the type of girl to organize a charity event. It’s all in the eyes and the cheekbones, even the eyebrows.” I explained, shaking my head. Leila, however, disagreed like she always did.
“They’d balance each other out. He’d soften up and she’d harden up. It’s that simple! Plus, it helps that they’re both very attractive...” Leila smirked, her eyes examining them both with a wistful sigh.
“And they’re probably much older than us, so don’t even get ahead of yourself.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “But back on topic. Are you talking about the whole ‘opposites attract’ lore? Because that’s just not...plausible. Maybe it is in the movies--”
Leila let out an exasperated breath that hindered the rest of my thought. “It is plausible, though! Just think about how you would feel in this situation. Would you want a guy who has a prickly exterior and a mushy-gushy heart?”
My heart started to palpitate as my hands started to sweat. I have learned to loathe Leila’s ‘boy talk’ because it’d always turn into her setting me up with guys that were either way out of my league or guys that just didn’t meet my expectations.
Her question, though, did deserve some deep thought. I guess I can set my pride aside for a mere second and give her some sort of approbation...
So, the question on the table: did I really have a thing for those types of people? Snarky but also impossibly soft? I guess I’ve never really been invested in relationships of my own. The idea of romance, sure, but not for me. It just never really seemed as important as the ACT or my GPA. I’m starting to regret my valedictorian title; I focused so hard on my studies that I forgot about the fun aspect of high school like the average, rebellious boyfriend with a leather coat and a motorcycle.
“You know what, Leila?” I started, carefully testing this ground as to not lead her down the matchmaking rabbit hole, “I would like a guy like that. A sarcastic and snarky guy with a secret soft side? Yes, please. Oh, and glasses that he’d push up his nose when he was frustrated? Even better.”
An uncharacteristic snicker escaped Leila; she was never one to snicker like that, and now that I actually think about it, our boy talk always had that stereotypical effect on her. Man, this hobby was melting her brain. Is there any research out there on how the quietest whisper of romance can turn the human brain to goo? If so, I need to get my hands on it ASAP. 
“I knew that you had a thing for that! I’ve been scoping this out for years, Charlotte!”
Of course she has.
“Glad you’ve been looking out for me. That or stalking me, but that’s up to you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder with hers only to receive a tired groan in response.
“Oh, hush. You know exactly how damn predictable you can be sometimes. Don’t even try to contradict that, either.” Leila stated, giving me a side glare. I gave her a bright, innocent smile in response as I fiddled with my duffel bag’s handles.
My mouth opened to bring up another round of matchmaker, but I was overpowered by a loud speaker.
“Flight one-hundred two for New York boarding at gate fifty-six!” A voice said gently over the speakers. Leila and I instantly looked at each other with the same anxious looks that slightly weirded me out.
“Um, Leila--” I stammered, trailing off as Leila hopped up and started to grab her things. She wore the biggest and brightest smile when she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
“C’mon, slowpoke! We gotta go! Move those short legs of yours!” Leila beamed, grabbing my duffel bag with her open hand. Before I could retort, I was ushered into standing and walking towards the luggage area.
“Alright, eager one, slow down a bit?” I asked through a huff. Only two months off of the cheer team and away from drama and I’m already bent out of shape.
Leila threw my duffel bag and her own suitcase onto the conveyor belt and so I followed suit.
This...this entire experience was moving faster than I expected.
*
*
The plane ride wasn’t really all that exciting. Just Leila falling asleep on me, like I expected. Throw in a couple packs of peanuts, a dash of watching Dirty Dancing and Grease religiously, and a sprinkle of a baby’s obnoxious tantrum...and you end up with the definition of a typical plane ride.
Woo, college. Already kicking off with such an exciting start.
*
*
We were about thirty minutes out from The Big Apple when Leila finally woke up from her sleep. I felt my shoulder lighten and then felt the instant soreness from the five and a half hour flight.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked, busying myself by pausing Dirty Dancing on its second playthrough. Of course it was right as Baby started to awkwardly dance down the staircase and onto the bridge.
Leila’s response didn’t come when I thought it would, so I looked over to see if she fell back asleep on the plane’s wall. To my surprise, I saw that her eyes were glued to a figure a few seats over. 
The girl who sat there had this gorgeous auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her black headphones stood out against her pale complexion and revealed the slightest trace of taupe freckles scattered about her cheeks. Also from the girl’s side profile, you could just barely see the tint of matte black lipstick on her lips.
A gentle but teasing smile formed when I looked back over at a wide-eyed Leila, her cheeks now starting to redden with embarrassment.
“See someone you like over there?” I asked, softly nudging her arm with my own. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly before turning her attention to me.
“I thought she was snoring?” Leila stammered, now rubbing her tired eyes. I looked back over at the girl - her head bobbing slightly to whatever she’d been playing on her laptop - and let out a laugh.
“Sorry to break it to you, Leila, but she’s completely awake.”
Leila whipped her head back around to see and then let another deep blush cover her cheeks. It was hard to notice against her olive skin, though it deepened enough to see from miles away.
“Okay, um, she was snoring a little bit ago. I swear on your life.” Leila said, pressing her hands to hide her bright red cheeks. 
I let out another laugh. She had never let herself get this flustered...ever. This was so rare that I’d only ever seen it once and that was back in high school. Leila locked eyes for a solid twenty seconds with a junior guy named Michael Harrison at lunch during our freshman year. She couldn’t stop blushing or stuttering for the rest of the day, and that’s not mentioning the dejected look she had when Michael walked out of the building with an unfamiliar girl on his arm after school.
As expected, Leila only responded to me with her notorious deadly side glare.
“Shut up right this instant, Charlotte Parker.” She hissed between her gritted teeth.
Did I listen? Of course not.
“Looks like Miss Maciel has been struck by Cupid’s arrow...” I teased, dramatically leaning into her lap with my hand against my forehead. She grumbled and leaned her head on her palm, looking out the window. After I sat up, I could see her brown eyes flit over in the girl’s direction every once in a while and couldn’t hold back my smile. Not teasing, but happy.
I knew that wistful look in her eye well enough to know that she’d been enamored.
*
*
The plane landed at about seven in the evening. Before getting off the plane, I looked over to the girl. She was frantically putting her computer away in it’s decorated case. I saw a patch with the familiar NYU bobcat...right next to another patch with the name “Skye” in this sort of horror-ish calligraphy.
Huh.
“I think her name is Skye,” I said, leaning in to whisper to Leila, “and I think she’s going to NYU.”
Leila glanced over as she stuffed her neck pillow (that she never used) in her bag.
“Cool. Um...Skye, you said?” Leila said, a blush blooming across her cheeks again. 
I’m seriously loving this.
“Yep, Skye. Maybe she’s a freshman like us?” I said. Leila bit her thin bottom lip.
“Maybe,” Leila said, a smirk crossing over her features, “just...maybe.”
*
*
Waiting for our luggage was so boring. I decided that it was even worse than waiting for our fight.
“Ah, it’s mine!” I heard a girl a few feet away from my tired figure cheer. She rushed forward to grab a gaudy pink suitcase bedazzled with fake gems. Leila pretended to gag next to me.
“Gross,” Leila sighed, though her eyes suddenly lit up, “hey, wait, those are our bags!”
She pointed toward a cluster of familiar bags on the conveyor.
“Ah! C’mon!” I stammered, rushing forward and grabbing them. We both started to laugh as we lugged them off.
“Jesus, this is heavier than I remember.” Leila huffed, lifting her bag onto her shoulder. I did the same, though almost toppled over because of the weight.
“Are we sure that these are ours?” I asked, unzipping the duffel bag to see my familiar coat. Relief flooded my features as I looked back at Leila.
Her face was a sickly greenish pale.
“Uh, Charlotte, this...this isn’t...” Leila stuttered, carefully shuffling through the bag. There were lots of black sweaters and lots of striped shirts. A couple pairs of ripped jeans, a few rock band tees along with an NYU sweatshirt...and a tag on the strap.
I reached out for the black tag on the strap and flipped it over. It read...
Skye...Crandall?
“Leila, remember that girl from the plane?” I asked, showing her the tag. Her face immediately fell, though I could see the flame of hope flickering in her deep brown irises.
“Oh. My. God.” Leila groaned, taking the tag into her hand. “You’re kidding. Charlotte, this seriously isn’t happening right now.”
Despite her panicked state, I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
“I’m officially calling you Eliza Schuyler because you are helpless!” I giggled, doubling over. Leila loudly sighed.
“No, no no no...” Leila whispered, zipping the bag closed, “how are we going to find her now? I bet she left already with my bag.”
I sadly let my laughter subside as I wiped the humored tears from my eyes, being careful to not let my light layer of mascara run or smudge into a huge mess. That was the last thing I needed right now.
“Alright. Well, I think we should wait and see if your bag is still here. We don’t know for sure that she has it,” I stated, patting Leila’s shoulder, “but if it doesn’t show, we’ll track this Skye girl down and give her the right bag. Okay?”
Leila nodded, her face still contorted with a mixed emotion of annoyance and helplessness.
“Welcome to New York, where we lose your freaking bags and make you chase after freaking girls that you like,” Leila mumbled in a bad imitation of a New York accent, pinching the bridge of her slender nose.
“So you do admit it! Aww!” I cooed, booping her nose. She caught my wrist and gave me another glare, though this one was downright teasing.
“Shut it or I will mercilessly write on your face tonight with a Sharpie while you sleep,” Leila teased, “but let’s get going. We still gotta find our dorm and the sun’s already starting to set.”
I nodded and gathered up my stuff, taking another look back at the conveyor...
“Oh, everyone’s gone?” I questioned, my eyes scanning the now empty area around us. Leila rolled her eyes and started to drag me along towards the masses of people with her free hand.
“Yes, but now let’s go find this girl before I lose my mind. I need my bag and I can bet that she needs hers.”
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laila-rk · 5 years ago
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Taika Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit
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I will admit I went into Jojo Rabbit with reluctance and in an already bad mood. I was planning on watching Little Women which I was very excited for but didn't make it in time, so it kind of felt like 'settling' for another film already. When the film began I was annoyed when the blatant rip-off Moonrise Kingdom aesthetic that I had expected from the trailer came to fruition. I don't personally see why a director would desire to rip off another's aesthetic and how they could be so conspicuous about it, but hey ho. So the entire first forty minutes or so I will admit I spent sitting in my seat silently pissed off and trying to talk myself out of my terrible mood. The film did nothing to assist me in this task. I ended up actually having to tell myself to try to see the film from a child's perspective, because frankly I don't see how anyone beyond the age of about ten could really take much from this film. Other cinema goers didn't seem to have the same issue — seemingly every person in the theatre was in hysterics at all the really badly written, juvenile script/ jokes. I despair.
Where to begin really? Rebel Wilson manages to be unfunny throughout, with every line seeming to be delivered with too much surrounding silence as if in anticipation of audience laughter. It felt like Pitch Perfect and all the jokes fell flat. The lead boy (Roman Griffin Davis) is strangely angered throughout, without any real impetus. I don't assign any blame to the twelve year old actor for this, rather the script and character writing was really badly done. Sam Rockwell, though one of the better performers, seems to be a tacked on character with no real point beyond serving as a vague father-figure to fatherless Jojo and as a precautionary "not all Nazis were bad people" add on. Scarlett Johansson I frankly felt sorry for throughout.
Jojo is a young member of the Hitler Youth. He is sufficiently indoctrinated but is small and cowardly. Some older Nazi boys tell him to kill a rabbit and when he can't do it, they call him rabbit as a joke. But Jojo confides in his imaginary friend, Hitler, who tells him it's okay because he would have his people be comprised of all 'animals' so to speak — the courage of a panther, the cunning of a fox, something something... you know, because Hitler was well into diversity. None of this matters though, because where the film is set up initially at the Hitler Youth training camp, and we feel as though we are in for a long slog of trying not to detect Wes Anderson's Fort Lebanon in this camp, the film bizarrely turns into another film when it randomly changes its mind and decides to set itself largely in the boy's home. It feels very much like the opening is from another movie and just stitched on the beginning.
Actually, despite the Wes-rip off, I would've preferred it to remain at Not-Camp-Ivanhoe, because what it turns into is Boy in the Striped Pyjamas meets Tracy Beaker. It has all the cheap tactlessness of a BBC film, including cheap looking costumes and predictable cinematography. There's a bit where Johansson tells Jojo (her son) that love feels like butterflies and soon after we get a camera pan down to Jojo's stomach where, yes, cgi butterflies reside. It felt like that bit where you go inside Tracy Beaker's head and see her 'famous' mum stepping out of a limo. It was embarrassing to watch.
Jojo falls in love with a Jewish girl, which feels like an unnecessary thread of the story, partly because it seems to be assuming the audience is also in the Hitler Youth and needs teaching that Jewish people do not in fact have horns and hang upside down like bats — actual line from the film— and partly because the girl is established as a stand-in for Jojo's dead sister. So that's weird.
Scarlett Johansson has to try to carry a scene off in which she impersonates Jojo's father who is said to be fighting in the war and has been absent for two years, therefore suspected as a deserter. Johansson awkwardly smears her face with ash from the fireplace and with this 'beard', begins to mimic Jojo's dad in such a way as to paint him as some kind of angry drunk, or rather just a stereotype of a 40s German father? We aren't sure. There's a lot of horrible awkward dancing in this scene and throughout, because Jojo's mum equates dancing to freedom and... well, that's about as profound as the film manages to get. The scene is really hard to watch and it just feels like the camera remains too long on an actress who isn't totally convinced of her role, and who could blame her really when the script is so embarrassingly flimsy?
The Hitler character, played by director Taika Waititi, has his moments. The performance is flamboyant and self-deprecating which does make for the occasional funny moment, in particular a part where he feigns confusion at public perception of himself as a 'psycho' as if he has no idea why this would be. The problem is that this should have been woven throughout and actually the film strays from this character too much in favour of following the Jewish girl who Jojo's mother has been hiding. This doesn't work because for some unknown reason, the girl is made to be frankly a smug brat. I'm not sure if this was in some kind of attempt to imbue the character with some form of liberation (she immediately grabs the Nazi boy and physically shoves him around a lot). It doesn't really come across as liberated though, if anything it makes it hard to empathise with the character as she behaves like a robot. She just comes across as an unbearable character who seems to have literally zero gratitude for the person who has been hiding and feeding her. That's not to say the Jewish character doesn't have EVERYTHING to be angry about, but human nature does dictate that one might be a little more emotionally nuanced and experience small moments of joy when everything else is bad. Instead, Elsa is perpetually angry to the point of essentially bullying the German child who is far younger and smaller than herself. This might make sense if she was even awarded some kind of emotional liberation at the end beyond her predictable escape when the war ends, but all she is permitted to do is another stupid dance on the doorstep (signifying Jojo's mother's idea of freedom, not even her own).
The film's redeeming quality is actually the performance by Archi Yates as Yorki, unfortunately perpetually referred to as 'the fat kid', as if that's a funny enough line to repeat throughout. His performance is naive (the actor is eleven years old), but it works because his timing is great and he delivers the lines as if he is familiar with the intended style of comedy; he actually delivers his lines with wit, where all the adult actors around him fail. He also seems to speak with a British accent where everyone else flits between a half baked German accent and their own real accent, which in between seems to fall into some kind of Welsh accent. Just do the German accent properly or don't bother with it! A scene in which Stephen Merchant arrives as Gestapo begins with a lot of 'Heil Hitlers' and ends with Merchant seeming to forget what he's doing and falling into his usual west country voice.
I don't have much else to write about this film because it's not enjoyable to bang on about the bad qualities of a movie and I do think there is something to be said for the director/writer's bravery in making a film about Hitler as a boy's imaginary friend.
I think the film would've been better off with less of a comedy vibe and by following in real earnest the experience of a member of the Hitler Youth; what his psyche would've been. Unfortunately the film is too babyish for any adult (Dukes at Komedia crowd notwithstanding), which means it is really only funny to kids, and I'm not sure what it does for a child without real prior knowledge of Hitler's Germany. The termination of the boy's friendship with Adolf manifests in his literally kicking Adolf out the window and telling him to 'fuck off', but actually this doesn't do much to negate the established charm/ charisma of the Hitler character. You don't ever really get that sense of revenge or satisfaction at Hitler's expense, if anything you feel a bit sorry for the neurotic clown incarnation of Adolf, who after all is a figment of the boy's imagination. I don't demand any kind of moral lesson from art, but it would seem that this film would be obligated to contain one, and yet it remains dubious as to what it even is... are we allowed to like this Hitler character? Are we even happy when he's gone? Wasn't he the only funny thing about the film?
The movie ends with the Rainer Maria Rilke quote “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. / Just keep going. No feeling is final.” Which left me with the final reflection that indeed I did have to let this film happen to me and was rewarded with the beauty of the final credits rolling and the liberating sensation of being able to leave the cinema to go get pizza.
Sadly this film immediately goes to the bottom of my Oscars nomination list (nominated for Best Picture. Ouch!). Interesting to note that Ra Vincent of LOTR/ The Hobbit fame (anyone else watch all those making ofs?) did the production design for this film. At least his name in the credits left me with some feeling of warmth towards it.
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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years ago
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Congratulations, Prima! You’ve been accepted to play Nadie Moreau. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.
Admin note: Thank you for understanding and caring about my sweet little Nadine, I’m so happy to have her here for the wedding! - Admin J
IC INFORMATION —
CHARACTER DESIRED
Nadine Moreau
CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS
Nadine is a very interesting character in a way that she is so far removed from what’s happening in Chicago yet here she is about to dive in headfirst into the mess. I see her story as Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit who never left the Shire and then an invitation comes; it’s dangerous, he knows it but who in the whole town would be able to experience what he’s being offered? It’s a chance of a lifetime.
There’s also a duality in her that she may have been a shy, anxious girl at first, someone who needed to be sheltered, but growing up, Nadine started to want more. Like having a dream to go to America. She was born brittle but refused to stay that way without losing her softness. But her parents never saw past the shyness and anxiety so out of love and concern, they kept her there. And she obliged because she’s a good daughter. Even her choice to become a pediatric surgeon was done out of wanting to please her parents; it’s not to say that Nadine’s parents were bad, they just raised and loved her they way they knew how.
Nadine may have felt wary about the decisions of her cousins, but someone who had spent all her life reading books and keeping her head low would surely feel curious what it’s like to to have more and meeting Arthur gave her that opportunity to live more. To experience the world beyond what her parents have confined her into.
Arthur may be gone but they were together for ten years and that I believe would have a lasting impact on Nadine; she is someone who had always been a little unsure but she’s open to trying out these new experiences, she is not weak, she is just someone who has lived her life in a box. She excels in everything that she does in that box and so to finally knock down those walls can be disorienting for anyone. She needed someone gentle, patient and kind to show it to her, someone who understood her nature and that was Arthur. It took her ten years to come out of her shell and so to lose her husband left her worse than before.
With the help of therapy, self-reflection and rehabilitation, Nadine I think, chose to finally go to America because she took it as a sign from her husband. It’s also her way of reclaiming herself; this is her dream, it’s a new adventure, it’s dangerous yes, but real life is like that.
WRITING SAMPLE
She stared at the invitation on her bedside table, opulent in its creation, it was obvious that Penelope Sinclair had a hand in it. You are cordially invited, the card read as if it had slipped her cousin’s mind that Nadine Moreau had ever been anywhere– what made them think that she was going somewhere now?
Nadine began to bite her thumb as her mind entertained the possibilities, only to be riddled with her anxiety: But it’s so far! And dangerous! You’re not well, not yet and you need more time. Let’s stay here. She forced herself to stop by finding something else to do with her hands and Nadine tried to continue reading her book as the heavy rain pelted the windows.
But she couldn’t focus, thoughts of America and the wedding filling her head; she sank deeper under the blankets, her frame easily devoured by the king-sized bed. It feels so empty now. Nadine glanced at the picture frame depicting her wedding day– she was all smiles and Arthur had his arms around her waist as he kissed her forehead. She felt her stomach tighten and she began to slowly breathe in and out in an attempt to calm herself.  She was over this, the voice in her head that kept telling her what she can and can’t do; Nadine vanquished the voice when she first held that scalpel during her first operation, and it stayed vanquished with each success, reappearing only when a child died but she’s learned to ignore it, learned to control it with the help of Arthur that for ten, long years she had forgotten about her anxiety.
And then Arthur died.
Nadine began to cry softly, overwhelmed with the feeling of missing her husband; it had been years but she would still have moments where the realization would catch her off guard and send her reeling. Like right now.
She sat up, red-rimmed eyed and sniffling as she picked up the invitation again and her sudden movement caused the picture frame to knock off the table. Nadine gasped when it fell on the floor and broke the glass that she wanted to cry again, but something stuck between the picture and the back of frame made her pause.
It was a letter from Arthur, dated sometime before the cancer took him and Nadine read as he thanked her for the ten years that he allowed him to love her. It was chock-full of his favorite moments in their life together and concluded with a reminder for Nadine to continue living her life and pursue any dreams that she might have had.
It was a sign, it had to be, the invitation, her own wedding anniversary and now this letter. Nadine quickly picked up the picture, taking it out of the broken frame and brushing off the glass shards; her heart pounded in her chest, so much that she almost couldn’t breathe– it reminded her of  the first time performed pediatric surgery, and for the first time today, Nadine Moreau-Bernard smiled.
“Joyeux anniversaire, mon chéri. à bientôt en Amérique.” Happy Anniversary, darling. See you in America.
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the-penultimate-pam · 6 years ago
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It’s RPG Time! Yay!
I want to fill up my schedule so that I'm forced to get things done, because apparently that's how it works? So! I'm going to start up a new RPG campaign in the new year!
Here are a few ideas I'm feeling out, listed in very approximate order of what I'm leaning towards and/or what I've given the most thought to. Anyone who likes this kind of thing, or who might be interested in trying it out, are there any here you're excited about?
No purchase necessary, no obligation to join, details may be added or changed upon request, no guarantee that any particular game will be run, etc :)
1. Superpower (Savage Worlds with the Superpowers companion)
Setting: Homebrew world, essentially modern times on Earth
Concept: One month ago, an unknown event granted superpowers to a seemingly random percent of the population. Some people choose to live their lives as they had been, but with new abilities; others now wreak havoc or wreak good from behind a mask.
Style: You'll probably team up with some curious, like-minded powered people to get to the root of this mysterious event. In the meantime - oh, your nosy neighbour can talk to animals? That could pose some problems.
Notes: No Supergirls here - one power per human in this world :) Sure, you can get creative with the simple ability to move dust around, for example, but you can't move dust and have an innate sense of the nearest news broadcast at all times. And - full disclosure - it's set in the same world as the YA novel I'm currently editing. Everyone gets credit for worldbuilding help in the Acknowledgements if it's ever published :P (please do bring up any genuine legal concerns, I'm starting to look into all that. But the game should run pretty far away from the book’s plot and characters.)
2. Doctor Who (the Doctor Who: Adventures in Time and Space Roleplaying Game from Cubicle 7)
Setting: Literally all of time and space, it's Doctor Who
Concept: Whatever the players prefer... Gallifreyan and companions, buncha goofs who found a TARDIS, aliens solving mysteries on earth, UNIT defending the planet from invasions, etc.
Style: Probably adventures like the ones in the show, but if you just want to be Earth-based, that's cool too
Notes: I picked up a bundle of sourcebooks a while ago and haven't used any yet, so…. Plus I'm excited about Doctor Who again, thanks to the new season
3. The Darkening of Mirkwood (The One Ring roleplaying game)
Setting: Tolkien's Middle-earth. After the events of The Hobbit, before The Fellowship of the Ring
Concept: I have a cool-looking campaign where you try to stop... well... the Mirkwood from Darkening. It spans like 30 years, so you can grow old and own land while you collect cool gear on your travels all across Middle-earth, trying not to be corrupted by the spreading darkness, and wow it's like you're in the book but I won't spend as long talking about trees I promise
Style: The system is supposed to mimic the feel of the books really well? You have a defined role in the adventuring party (like Scout or Leader) and there's lots of travelling across great distances but also getting deep into the recesses of towns if you want, and solving problems with words or violence, and passing on your heroic heritage if you die or retire (adventuring ain’t easy!). Also, you might run into everyone's favourite characters, like Wizard Man and Other Wizard Man
Notes: another bundle I picked up and haven't used. It's not my fault, it came with maps! Cartography is one of my greatest weaknesses!!
4. Miraculous Ladybug
Okay hear me out
It's loosely based on the show, but you can have your own customized power, weapon, themed costume, kwami, etc.
And the stories will be episodic, like the early episodes of the show, so any players can jump in or out whenever
Expect hokey pun-themed villains because that's my JAM (and regular-schoolkid-with-a-secret-identity subplots if desired, which are my secondary jam)
I'm thinking either in Savage Worlds (because I'm familiar with it) or in Fate (see TAZ Commitment)
Why a kids' cartoon? Because sometimes we all need to take a break from adulting and have some good ol' light-hearted fun. Indulge your inner youthful superhero and fight pigeon villains with extremely simple motivations and then watch as everything goes back to normal!
4a) You know what? This would also work very well as a Totally Spies thing. I'd be cool with that too.
4b) Or Danny Phantom!! Oh no I'm having nostalgia
5. A continuation of my Venus/Sister Planet one-shot
Homebrew again, where you're part of a team joining a space colony orbiting Venus - but some of you have strange psychic powers when you land on the planet's surface, whaaaat (jake peralta voice)
Savage Worlds with the Science Fiction companion (which I didn't have when I ran the first session, but it gives us some cool new stuff to work with)  
I did run two parallel versions of the intro, but anyone can join and/or we can meld the two plotlines without too much trouble
6. Some retro, monster of the week, Buffy/Scooby/Stranger Things -inspired game
May or may not use the actual Monster of the Week rules (Powered by the Apocalypse; see TAZ Amnesty). Otherwise, Savage Worlds, probably.
I really don't have anything planned for this, I've just been into that atmosphere lately. Suggestions welcome!
7. Something in D&D 5E
So that I can learn the system that literally everybody but me* uses  (*not true)
I'm cheap so I only plan to use the free, basic rules instead of buying $150 worth of books (or perpetually borrowing them from generous friends!)
Campaign suggestions are welcome! Homebrew, published, whatever… but the cheaper the better :)
8. Mistborn (the Mistborn RPG)
Full disclosure! I haven't finished Brandon Sanderson’s series yet! No spoilers, pretty please!! I want to read the books first, but I do have everything needed for the RPG! I can bump the series up in my TBR if folks are interested in this game.
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the-seas-song · 7 years ago
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Tolkien Gen Week Day 5
DAY FIVE: diversity How does diversity affect Tolkien’s characters and your interpretations of them? Does a disability or orientation affect relationships with other characters? Have you lost sleep thinking about hobbit race relations? This is the day to consider all the other factors that go into a character’s life.
Work has been insane lately, so unfortunately I wasn't able to write everything I wanted to for this amazing week, but I really wanted to make sure I got this one done.
This is mainly a thank you post. First, I want to give a big thank you to @starlightwalking for creating and running this week. A lot of time must have gone into it, and I've had a great time.
I love all forms of love, and one of my favorite things about Tolkien's works is that he highlights a large variety of emotionally intimate platonic relationships. Thank you Tolkien. And also thank you to everyone who worked on the films, for not only portraying those in the texts, but actually adding and expanding the amount of deep platonic relationships.
As someone who is gray aro/ace, another one of my favorite things about Tolkien's works is the diversity in racial sexualities.
Elves only fall in love once in their life (technically it is possible for them to fall in love a second time, but we are only given two cases in all of Tolkien’s works, and both times there was a greater power at work). The foundation of elven-kind is memory and emotion. Their souls control their bodies. Elvish memories remain crystal clear, no matter how many decades or centuries pass. They never fade, even the slightest bit. Connected to memory is emotion. Elves feel things in a clearer way. They are ruled by emotion. They can literally just lie down and kill themselves with their mind, if they wish. Also, because of this clarity, they know from the beginning if they are feeling romantic-love or friendship-love for someone. There is nothing more important to an elf than their relationships, of any kind. Their anti-possessiveness goes so far that they will not even say 'I have two children’.
Tolkien says in LACE that almost all elves marry, and marry young. However, the entire legendarium contradicts that. Over half the elves we meet very marry/are never said to be married, and almost all of those that do marry do so well into their centuries and millenniums. Feanor and Nerdanel are literally the only elven couple that we are told married young.
Also, who could ever forget the tragedy of Beleg's death? “Thus ended Beleg Strongbow, truest of friends, greatest in skill of all that harboured in the woods of Beleriand in the Elder Days, at the hand of him whom he most loved; and that grief was graven on the face of Túrin and never faded.” - The Silmarillion
We are also given a tantalizing hint of one deep female friendship: “Fingolfin’s wife Anaire refused to leave Aman, largely because of her friendship with Earwen wife of Arafinwe (though she was a Noldo and not one of the Teleri). But all her children went with their father.” - The Shibboleth of Feanor
Another thing I rarely see people mention is Tolkien explicitly separating sex and gender:
According to the Eldar, the only 'character' of any person that was not subject to change was the difference of sex. For this they held to belong not only to the body but also to the mind equally: that is, to the person as a whole. [cut] Those who returned from Mandos, therefore, after the death of their first body, returned always to the same name and to the same sex as formerly.
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For the [souls] of the Elves are of their nature male and female, and not their [bodies] only. - LACE
Because their souls control their bodies, there are no trans elves. However, the fact that Tolkien took pains to explicitly say this for elves, throws the door wide open for all of the other races!
We're also told that about two thirds of dwarves are naturally aromantic, and those who aren’t only fall in love once. So, another gray aro/ace race!
There are so many amazing fanworks out there that diversify Tolkien's works even more.
Throughout my years of being a fan I've met a fair amount of purists, and there's nothing wrong with being a purist. Most of them are lovely people. I am, however, a firm believer in Roland Barthes's The Death of the Author (found here) theory. The great thing is Tolkien was too:
The Lord of the Rings has been read by many people since it finally appeared in print; and I should like to say something here with reference to the many opinions or guesses that I have received or have read concerning the motives and meaning of the tale. The prime motive was the desire of a tale-teller to try his hand at a really long story that would hold the attention of readers, amuse them, delight them, and at times maybe excite them or deeply move them. As a guide I had only my own feelings for what is appealing or moving, and for many the guide was inevitably often at fault. Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or of the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer. But even from the points of view of many who have enjoyed my story there is much that fails to please. It is perhaps not possible in a long tale to please everybody at all points, nor to displease everybody at the same points; for I find from the letters that I have received that the passages or chapters that are to some a blemish are all by others specially approved. The most critical reader of all, myself, now finds many defects, minor and major, but being fortunately under no obligation either to review the book or to write it again, he will pass over these in silence, except one that has been noted by others: the book is too short.
As for any inner meaning or 'message', it has in the intention of the author none. It is neither allegorical nor topical. As the story grew it put down roots (into the past) and threw out unexpected branches: but its main theme was settled from the outset by the inevitable choice of the Ring as the link between it and The Hobbit.
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Other arrangements could be devised according to the tastes or views of those who like allegory or topical reference. But I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.
An author cannot of course remain wholly unaffected by his experience, but the ways in which a story-germ uses the soil of experience are extremely complex, and attempts to define the process are at best guesses from evidence that is inadequate and ambiguous. It is also false, though naturally attractive, when the lives of an author and critic have overlapped, to suppose that the movements of thought or the events of times common to both were necessarily the most powerful influences. One has indeed personally to come under the shadow of war to feel fully its oppression; but as the years go by it seems now often forgotten that to be caught in youth by 1914 was no less hideous an experience than to be involved in 1939 and the following years. By 1918 all but one of my close friends were dead. Or to take a less grievous matter: it has been supposed by some that 'The Scouring of the Shire' reflects the situation in England at the time when I was finishing my tale. It does not. It is an essential part of the plot, foreseen from the outset, though in the event modified by the character of Saruman as developed in the story without, need I say, any allegorical significance or contemporary political reference whatsoever. It has indeed some basis in experience, though slender (for the economic situation was entirely different), and much further back. The country in which I lived in childhood was being shabbily destroyed before I was ten, in days when motor-cars were rare objects (I had never seen one) and men were still building suburban railways. Recently I saw in a paper a picture of the last decrepitude of the once thriving corn-mill beside its pool that long ago seemed to me so important. I never liked the looks of the Young miller, but his father, the Old miller, had a black beard, and he was not named Sandyman. - LotR Foreward
And:
The Lord of the Rings as a story was finished so long ago now that I can take a largely impersonal view of it, and find 'interpretations' quite amusing; even those that I might make myself, which are mostly post scriptum: I had very little particular, conscious, intellectual, intention in mind at any point.* Except for a few deliberately disparaging reviews – such as that of Vol. II in the New Statesman,3 in which you and I were both scourged with such terms as 'pubescent' and 'infantilism' – what appreciative readers have got out of the work or seen in it has seemed fair enough, even when I do not agree with it. Always excepting, of course, any 'interpretations' in the mode of simple allegory: that is, the particular and topical. In a larger sense, it is I suppose impossible to write any 'story' that is not allegorical in proportion as it 'comes to life'; since each of us is an allegory, embodying in a particular tale and clothed in the garments of time and place, universal truth and everlasting life. Anyway most people that have enjoyed The Lord of the Rings have been affected primarily by it as an exciting story; and that is how it was written. Though one does not, of course, escape from the question 'what is it about?' by that back door. That would be like answering an aesthetic question by talking of a point of technique. I suppose that if one makes a good choice in what is 'good narrative' (or 'good theatre') at a given point, it will also be found to be the case that the event described will be the most 'significant'.
* Take the Ents, for instance. I did not consciously invent them at all. The chapter called 'Treebeard', from Treebeard's first remark on p. 66, was written off more or less as it stands, with an effect on my self (except for labour pains) almost like reading some one else's work. And I like Ents now because they do not seem to have anything to do with me. I daresay something had been going on in the 'unconscious' for some time, and that accounts for my feeling throughout, especially when stuck, that I was not inventing but reporting (imperfectly) and had at times to wait till 'what really happened' came through. But looking back analytically I should say that Ents are composed of philology, literature, and life.
[cut]
That of course does not mean that the main idea of the story was a war-product. That was arrived at in one of the earliest chapters still surviving (Book I, 2). It is really given, and present in germ, from the beginning, though I had no conscious notion of what the Necromancer stood for (except ever-recurrent evil) in The Hobbit, nor of his connexion with the Ring. But if you wanted to go on from the end of The Hobbit I think the ring would be your inevitable choice as the link. If then you wanted a large tale, the Ring would at once acquire a capital letter; and the Dark Lord would immediately appear. As he did, unasked, on the hearth at Bag End as soon as I came to that point. So the essential Quest started at once. But I met a lot of things on the way that astonished me. Tom Bombadil I knew already; but I had never been to Bree. Strider sitting in the comer at the inn was a shock, and I had no more idea who he was than had Frodo. The Mines of Moria had been a mere name; and of Lothlórien no word had reached my mortal ears till I came there. Far away I knew there were the Horse-lords on the confines of an ancient Kingdom of Men, but Fangorn Forest was an unforeseen adventure. I had never heard of the House of Eorl nor of the Stewards of Gondor. Most disquieting of all, Saruman had never been revealed to me, and I was as mystified as Frodo at Gandalf's failure to appear on September 22.1 knew nothing of the Palantíri, though the moment the Orthanc-stone was cast from the window, I recognized it, and knew the meaning of the 'rhyme of lore' that had been running in my mind: seven stars and seven stones and one white tree. These rhymes and names will crop up; but they do not always explain themselves. I have yet to discover anything about the cats of Queen Berúthiel.8 But I did know more or less all about Gollum and his pan, and Sam, and I knew that the way was guarded by a Spider. And if that has anything to do with my being stung by a tarantula when a small child,9 people are welcome to the notion (supposing the improbable, that any one is interested). I can only say that I remember nothing about it, should not know it if I had not been told; and I do not dislike spiders particularly, and have no urge to kill them. I usually rescue those whom I find in the bath! - Letter 163
Tolkien's loathing of allegory is well known. However, most don't talk about the fact that his fundamental reason for loathing it is because it enforces the domination of the author over the freedom of the reader - “I think that many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.”
So, as we continue to love these works and create our own, let's never forget that Tolkien himself believed in our agency.
P.S. I have to share this quote from Letter 66. It's too funny!
A new character has come on the scene (I am sure I did not invent him, I did not even want him, though I like him, but there he came walking into the woods of Ithilien): Faramir, the brother of Boromir – and he is holding up the 'catastrophe' by a lot of stuff about the history of Gondor and Rohan (with some very sound reflections no doubt on martial glory and true glory): but if he goes on much more a lot of him will have to be removed to the appendices — where already some fascinating material on the hobbit Tobacco industry and the Languages of the West have gone.
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samayla · 7 years ago
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Fic: Gemini Chapter 10
AO3
Bilbo may be a Baggins of a Bag End, but his twin sister Bella inherited all their mother’s Tookish tendencies. If one Hobbit burglar is good, surely two will be better… right?
Rating: G
This is going to be a huge multi-part fic. I’ll be tagging it #HobbitGemini for anyone who wants to follow it, or shoot me a message if you’d like me to tag you specifically. Updates are Sundays and Wednesdays. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Late for Dinner
Chapter 2: An Unexpected Party
Chapter 3: No One West of Bree
Chapter 4: A Gentledwarf
Chapter 5: A Much-Needed Ally
Chapter 6: Petunias
Chapter 7: Wild Things
Chapter 8: Right Next Door
Chapter 9: Axe or Sword
Chapter 10: Eavesdropping
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“Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ‘ere break of day,
To find our long forgotten gold.”
 The other dwarves joined in the song one by one, until the whole room thrummed with the intensity of it.
 “The pines were roaring on the height.
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red. It flaming spread.
The trees like torches blazed with light.”
 Though there were more verses to the song, Thorin realized singing was making him feel both better and worse at the same time, and he trailed off.
These dwarves, his company, they understood, and they allowed the sound to fade away into the air. They felt it too: the weight of all that past, present, and uncertain future hanging over their heads. Sometimes it felt as though it was enough to crush him into dust. And there was no hope in the song. Only pain and the grim task he’d laid before them.
Suddenly seized with a strong desire to be anywhere but there, Thorin put out his pipe and tucked it into a pocket. Contrary to Balin’s worst fears, the company had not been ejected from the smial following their host’s fainting spell, and Thorin murmured to his dwarves to enjoy the warmth and security. He wasn’t sure where he was going in this home that wasn’t his, but he just needed to get away, to allow his dwarves a chance at reclaiming some of the good cheer he’d interrupted earlier.
He wandered the curving hallways for a while, losing himself in the architecture. He couldn’t help but marvel at the halflings’ skill in delving through such soft soil. He’d expected something more like a rabbit warren, with oozing worms and stinking leaf rot all around, but this place was snug and pleasant, though rather lacking in right angles for his taste.
He was studying the peculiar way a support beam arced around a polished tree root in the main hall, when raised voices drew his attention to the closed study.
“I can’t believe you!”
“Bella, don’t start.”
Master Baggins, arguing with his sister about sleeping arrangements after all. Well, his company were no strangers to sleeping on the ground. With their supplies in Bywater, it would be inconvenient to be ejected from the smial at this time of night, but they had dealt with much worse. He was about to step in and tell the halflings as much, absolve them of any responsibility, but the lass’s next words brought him up short.
“What if it was Bag End?”
“Excuse me?” Baggins sounded exhausted. Thorin couldn’t blame him on that score, knowing now how little warning the halfling had been given of his company’s arrival.
“You heard me. What if it was West Farthing crockery and Longbottom Leaf that dragons coveted? And no Tooks or Brandybucks or even greedy Sackville-Bagginses would help you?”
“Bella, I feel for them. I really do.”
There was a pause, and Thorin felt a flash of hope. Absurd as it was, he wanted the lass to win this argument, to convince her brother to take his side like the clans refused to do. Even if he did not want her on this journey, he found it suddenly important that even one other being in Middle Earth cared what happened to his dwarves.
“No.” Thorin could hear the resolve harden into steel in her brother’s voice. Thorin’s disappointment was tempered with surprise that the little fellow had such conviction in him, after everything. “Bella, it’s just too dangerous! I can’t allow you to go. It’s completely out of the question. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t allow me to go,” his sister repeated flatly. Maker, but he knew that tone… Just as he knew the Look that went with it, though it was Dis’s ice blue gaze he pictured, rather than the lass’s honey brown. He had a sinking feeling the lass meant to follow them, whether he consented to her presence or not.
“Belladonna Baggins, be serious for once in your life! Don’t you give me that look! You are a Baggins of Bag End, for all you pretend at being a Took. And for a Baggins of Bag End to go traipsing across the Wilds with a troop of homeless dwarves… You’d be ruined!”
“You sound like Otho.”
“Now, Bella —”
“No.” Bella cut him off angrily, tears clear in her voice. “It is not for you — or anyone — to allow me to do anything. I will help these dwarves because it is the right thing to do, danger be damned. And if there is not enough room in my precious reputation for such honor as that, then damn my reputation, too!”
Thorin knew what came next.
Conscious of how little his own sister would like to be seen in such a state, he ducked into the nearest room. Sure enough, no sooner had Thorin gotten the door shut, than the door to the study banged open, and the sounds of sniffling and hurried footsteps passed down the hall.
“Not hiding, are we?”
Thorin whirled and realized he’d taken refuge in Balin’s temporary quarters. His advisor continued with his bedtime preparations as though it was perfectly natural for people to burst into his room uninvited late at night.
There was only one bed in the room, but Thorin spied another blanket and a pillow laid out on the window seat. “Are you sharing with Dwalin then?” he asked. The window seat would be a little cramped for the burly warrior, but still a luxury after the journey from Ered Luin.
“Don’t change the subject,” Balin scolded without looking up. He slipped off his socks and tucked them into the tops of his boots. He wriggled his bare toes in the thick carpet beside the bed.
Thorin scowled. “The halflings are fighting about accompanying us.” He didn’t voice his guilty suspicion that the lass had been crying over the matter — though he realized now that there was some larger issue between the siblings that was only being exacerbated by their presence.
Balin sank into the soft bed with a contented sigh. “They both seem hard-headed, in their own ways.” He peered up at Thorin with one eye. “I take it, then, that we have lost our burglar? And you are still set against Miss Baggins for the task?”
Thorin flopped back against the door with an exasperated huff. “Are you going to argue for her? I doubt you could put the matter any more eloquently than she did herself, just now.”
Balin sighed and closed his eyes once more. “Ah, well, probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers… Hardly the stuff of legend.”
Thorin lurched upright, taken with a sudden fit of loyalty to these dwarves who had already proven so loyal to him. “I will take every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills,” he growled, “for when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that.”
“Still,” Balin mused, tucking his hands behind his head, “willing though she may be, I cannot say that I see the wisdom in taking a young, untried hobbit lass across the world with us to face a dragon.”
“Irresponsible at best,” Thorin agreed.
Balin hummed thoughtfully. “We’ve enough on our plate with Bifur’s injury and young Ori and those troublemaking nephews of yours to look after. Speaking of the lads, they’ll take the news hard, I’m afraid. They’ve already grown attached to our would-be burglaress.”
“Too attached. She’s already a distraction.”
“What will you do about Dori and her sisters, then?”
Thorin scoffed. “Meaning what? They’re family. They —”
“—are as warm-blooded as any of the rest of us. I, myself, would ask Dori for an evening stroll, if I thought she’d accept out of anything beyond a sense of obligation.”
Thorin took a moment to consider that. He and Dwalin had grown up with Bori, been nigh inseparable before the dragon, and in the early Wandering Years. All three of them had sworn blood oaths to look after one another’s families before Azanulbizar, though it was Thorin and Dwalin who’d had to follow through. They’d cared for their fallen friend’s three sisters as best they could, as much as the eldest dam’s pride would allow, and Balin’s smooth manner and kindly nature had been invaluable help in that task.
Dori was a force of nature, like Dis, and it was difficult for Thorin to think of her as the object of anyone’s romantic interest. Nori was much the same in his mind, though he had heard plenty of rumors of her various entanglements, both romantic and otherwise. She’d proven time and again that she could handle such matters for herself, so Thorin had found even her current relationship with the miner easy to put out of his mind. She’d be the first one to cut her losses if it became an impediment in this venture. And as for little Ori… He knew Dwalin had a soft spot for her, but he also knew both she and Dwalin were far too focused on their respective goals to allow for any real distractions.
“They’re different,” Thorin said at last, lamely.
Balin let that particular point go, and Thorin was grateful for his charity. “The wizard will have something to say about your decision, too,” Balin mused. “But better that, than have her along for the duration, I suppose. As friendly as he appears to be with the lass, and with the impression you’ve made this evening, she’d be sure to take his side in every little matter. There’ll be enough butting of heads in this venture without the wizard having such an outspoken ally.”
“At least she has some spine,” Thorin countered. He hated to admit it, but he was still stinging a bit from her rebuke at the door. “More than her worrywart grocer of a brother has shown, at any rate.”
“Ah, go easy on the lad, Thorin. Gandalf has used him terribly tonight. I thought it a prank at first, or perhaps a case of shock or second thoughts stemming from meeting Dwalin first, out of us all… But from what I’ve gathered, we were completely unexpected. Thank the Maker your nephews bumped into Miss Baggins before we all got here! She’d have seen us out in no uncertain terms, I’m afraid, if we’d all shown up completely unannounced on her watch.”
Thorin bowed his head. “I’m being unfair,” he conceded. He thought back to what he’d overheard from the study. “Master Baggins is concerned for his sister, though he seems to value their reputation more than her safety.”
“I gather we are not the sort of company one should keep here in the Shire.”
Thorin snorted at that. “No, old friend,” he agreed sadly. “We are not the sort of company most would choose to keep since the coming of the dragon.” He could not keep the bitterness from his voice as he added, softly, “Not even our kin, Balin. Not even Dain.”
“I know, old friend,” Balin murmured.
A knock on the door startled them both out of their thoughts.
“Come,” Balin called.
“Balin, have you seen —” Kili started as he opened the door. “Oh! Uncle! Bella says to let you know your room is ready, and to tell you she’ll be just down the hall if you need anything. She’s sharing with Dori, but she says don’t hesitate to knock if something comes up.”
“Actually, Kili,” Thorin sighed, “ask her to come in here, please.”
Balin’s eyebrows rose in silent question, but Thorin ignored him. He’d made a decision.
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emmaswanchoosesyou · 7 years ago
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CSBB: Part of the Narrative (4/17)
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Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that’s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.
Rated E. Story warnings: sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.
Chapter warnings: more plotting and lying, and mentions of unpleasant time spent in foster care.
Happy birthday to me! Today I’m going to make like a hobbit and post this chapter (though I’ll let you decide how much of a gift that is, haha.) Just know that your comments and likes and kudos and reblogs have been cherished and squealed over. Thank you to @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first chapter, which you can check out here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better.
[Ch. 1] [2] [3]
Chapter 4
Emma turns in some first drafts, and Killian sees another connection between them. His realization of how much her book means to her sparks a realization of his own.
Killian
Killian pressed his hand to his temple, willing the headache to stay away. He hadn’t seen Emma since his meeting with her at Granny’s a couple weeks before. They’d exchanged emails back and forth, terse on her end and exceedingly polite (he might be compensating for something, his brain whispered) on his.
But today was the day he’d asked for her prospectus and an outline. It was due at the end of the day, which was rapidly approaching. He glanced up at the clock, wincing when he saw that it was nearly three in the afternoon.
Then he heard a knock on his office door. “Come in.”
“Hey,” Emma said, poking her head around the door. You could have knocked him over with a feather, he was so surprised to see her.
She looked lovely as always in her simple plaid dress, leggings, and leather jacket. She was even wearing glasses, and he felt some of his frustration draining away at the sight of her. “Er, hello, Swan.”
“I brought you a present.” There was something cautious in her voice, softer than he was expecting given their previous interactions.
“Oh, whatever could it be? Flowers? Chocolates?” He grinned at her, hoping to play his eagerness off as light-hearted flirtation and teasing.
She rolled her eyes, but he saw the ghost of a smile at the corner of her mouth as she walked toward his desk. “No, Jones. A draft.”
“A draft?”
“Of the first chapter. I have the outline and abstract-y thing you wanted too.”
He glanced up at her sharply. “Well, that’s exciting. I was only expecting the latter two.”
“I got extra inspired,” she said, shrugging.
“Then I’m excited to read it, after I look over the outline and, er, ‘abstract-y thing’ as you say.”
Emma sat down, her hands falling to her lap. “I--listen, I figured you might want to take a look at a sample of an earlier draft of my writing, and we could see how to work with it together from there.”
Keep your face neutral, mate, he told himself, inwardly dancing for joy at the tentative olive branch she was offering. Outwardly, he said, “That’ll be excellent, lo-Emma.”
Her face broke into a full grin. “Lo-Emma, huh?”
“Just doing my best to abide by our new no-moniker rules, but old habits are hard to break.”
“No, it’s cool. I think it’s how I’ll introduce myself from now on.” She was smirking, so he took her gentle mockery as a good thing.
Shaking his head, Killian feigned a dramatic sigh. “I see how it’s to be.”
She looked like she was about to say more, but then she started. “Oh! Before I forget--” She placed a small thumb drive on the edge of his desk. “Here’s the drive that has everything on it.”
He leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Wouldn’t an email have been simpler?”
“Simpler, maybe. Certainly less secure.”
“Ah, you fear hacking?” He was intrigued. She didn’t seem like the paranoid type.
“Well, my website was hacked once a few months ago.” She shrugged. “And my work in bail bonds taught me that the less you keep online, the better.”
He picked up the thumb drive and inserted it into his laptop. “Hang on, I didn’t realize you actually worked in bail bonds. I thought you tailed had one for a while.”
“And here I’d have thought you’d have done your homework better,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “No, I worked in bail bonds for a few years. It helped me pay the bills and get a feel for the world of law enforcement, since that’s what I wanted to write about.”
“And you did a magnificent job. Your knowledge of the criminal underworld and the people involved with bringing them to justice certainly came through in the text,” he hurried to reassure her.
A wry look he couldn’t quite decipher crossed her face. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. I learned a lot over the years.”
“Your first book was excellent, Swan. It’s plain to see that a lot of research and knowledge went into it.”
That finally drew a genuine smile from her. “I’m glad you think so. Fruit of my labor and all that jazz.”
“Ah, yes.” He shook his head and carded his fingers through his hair. “Which explains why my initial approach went over like lead in water.”
She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Yeah. But you’re right, there’s room for improvement.”
“Nonetheless, I apologize for my rudeness and the way I expressed myself. It was...ill-advised.”
Emma snorted but gave him a small smile. “No shit. But thanks for the apology. Besides, I could have handled the situation--and the criticism--better.”
He waved that aside. “You behaved as most people would when their child was attacked. And your book, as you put it, being the fruit of your labor…”
That same indefinable look from earlier came back to her face, but she pressed on. “Fair enough. So, should we, I dunno, let bygones be bygones?”
“Sounds excellent,” he said, clearing his throat. “Oh, one last thing--in light of said disagreements, I was hoping that we could be a bit more collaborative in our approach. If, perhaps, I was able to find a good, secure server for us to work on, would you be fine with putting the any future work there?”
She hesitated. “Um, if you can? But I want to okay it first, if that’s all right.”
“Certainly. I still have some military and and journalistic contacts who need higher degrees of security, so I’m sure they’ll have something to recommend.”
She bit her lip, mulling this over. “That should work.”
Killian told himself not to let his gaze drop to said lips. “Excellent. Would you like me to get in touch if I find something?”
“Sure. You can call or email.”
He relaxed back into his chair, some of the tension draining from him. “Wonderful. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
&&&
Killian worked at home the next day, having received permission to do so occasionally. After all, today was about doing his first read-through of Emma’s draft, and he wanted to be comfortable while doing so.
After she’d left his office the previous day, he had let Cleo, August, and Regina know that she’d met the deadline. He’d met with a variety of reactions, from Regina’s “Very well, keep on,” to August’s enthusiastic response and desire to be kept in the loop entirely, to Cleo’s subdued but measuring acceptance and comment that she was glad they’d found a way to work together. He’d been tasked with looking over some promising manuscripts, so had spent the rest of the afternoon doing just that.
And now his reward--getting to sit in his comfortable but spartan apartment, drinking coffee and rum while he edited from his favorite chair.
The blasted thing had finally arrived from the UK, one of the few items of furniture he refused to part with in the move. Honestly, it was a monstrosity, an old reclining wingback chair, but it had been Liam’s. For all its resistance to classification, it was comfortable. He’d spent many an hour in the ridiculous thing. On his own in a sullen, drunken fog. Sitting next to Milah in the daintier chair she’d selected, or his favorite of all--when she’d slipped onto his lap and they’d snuggled in the chair.
(The usual dull ache was still present when he thought of Milah, but its sharpness was starting to fade. Killian wondered what that meant.)
Pouring himself a small glass of rum and carrying that and his coffee with him over to the chair, he situated himself with a blanket and pulled up Emma’s summary and outline.
An hour later, he was immersed in her outline, writing notes and comments for parts he wanted to talk about and hear more about. He couldn’t wait.
As he continued to read, he came to a realization--only someone who had lived through the foster care system could write about it so knowledgeably and so passionately. This wasn’t just a plotline for Emma. This was more--this was her life.
Killian bit his lip, regretting some of his previous comments and assumptions about her and wondering how he should proceed. He wanted--no, needed--to make sure she knew he would support her. And that he understood, perhaps better than she knew.
He debated calling or texting her, but finally settled on an email, giving her space so that she didn’t feel obligated to acknowledge or respond to him.
He hesitated, unsure of how to begin.
Swan--
Right now, I just want to take the moment to tell you how thrilled, how in awe I am of your talent and skill with words.
I have comments, queries, and edits, but before I go over that, I needed to let you know how excited I am for this novel. (Oh, and as an aside, a friend showed me a server that I think will do nicely for us. I’ll be in my office tomorrow if you want to check it out, but you can always call if you’d like to make sure I’m there.)
Not only does your book promise to be well-written, but you’re handling this sensitive topic amazingly well.
Confession: I was in the system myself (albeit in the UK), along with my brother. My mum passed away when Liam and I were quite young, and my dad ran out on us a couple years after that. I was all of nine years old, and Liam was just fifteen.
We muddled along for the next few years. Some of the homes were pleasant enough, while others were...well, hell. Liam joined the military at eighteen to try to take care of us, and I was able to leave the system at sixteen. I can’t imagine the struggles that would come with being in for even longer.
Having shared all this personal information--and my apologies if this makes things awkward--I am beyond relieved to see how you plan on handling the topic of foster care and foster children.
If you ever want to have a chat about this, you know where to find me. My personal number is 555-687-9305, in case you ever need another perspective or to share stories (excuse my presumption if I’m wrong).
Killian hesitated, trying to decide on the best way to end the missive, as he was already toeing the line between professional and personal.
Best, Killian
P.S. I particularly like the depth of characterization for the main character and the sense of doom and offness that’s present even in the first chapter.
There. That should do it.
He clicked send and hoped Emma wouldn’t be too put off by his email.
&&&
Killian awoke feeling vaguely nervous and apprehensive about work. He hadn’t checked his email yet, but he hadn’t received a reply from Emma the previous day. He knew it was too soon and that she might need time to see his message, let alone respond. But still, it made him anxious.
To keep himself distracted, he’d responded to a text from Robin Locksley, taking him up on an invitation to meet him at a little pub that Robin swore was just like those at home. Hearing familiar accents had been a relief, a balm for his somewhat weary soul. And Robin seemed like a good sort, for a detective. He was a widower, his wife had been good friends with Milah in the early years of their careers. They’d grown apart, but the tenuous connection had provided some good bonding between him and Robin. They’d drunk just enough to do their country proud but not so much that either would be hungover today.
After greeting Ariel cheerfully (well, with as much as he could muster--no match for her levels, to be sure) and nodding politely to Cleo when he passed her in the hall, he slipped into his chair and took a deep breath as he turned on his computer. He opened his email, and…
Nothing.
Nary a short “okay” from Emma, not even a single, pointed word. Dammit.
He rubbed his hand over his face, not having realized how much he’d hoped she would recognize him as a kindred spirit, a fellow lost boy to her lost girl. He was so distracted by his thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a short knock on his door before. He looked over to find Emma poking her head into his office.
“Hey. Am I interrupting anything?” She frowned, her forehead wrinkling making her look uncertain and a little wary, and nothing short of perfect.
He nearly tripped, stumbling to his feet to greet her. “No! Not at all. Come in, come in.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. She handed him a coffee cup and lifted her own in acknowledgment. “Thank you. For the feedback and the email. And for telling me about the rest.”
“Oh, er, right…” he fought the urge to scratch behind his ear. What was it about this woman that made him feel like a teenager all over again?
She seemed to pick up on his awkwardness. “So yeah. Thank you.”
“I--it was really no trouble, Swan. I meant what I said la--”
“I’m here to ask you on a date.”
“--st ni--pardon?!”
Emma looked at him, the crease in her brow deepening at his lack of comprehension. He clearly had thrown her off with his stuttering response. She took a breath. “I’m asking you out?”
“Oh!” he said, scratching a finger at the lid of his coffee cup. “Er, as long as it’s not a question...er, yes.”
She smiled then, one of her brilliant, full smiles, and he felt as though he’d been blinded by the sun. “Awesome.”
He smiled back, unable to stop himself. “I have just one condition--let me plan the date.”
“Hey, I was going to show you the town,” she pouted.
He laughed and took a step toward her. “No offense, love, but while you are the one I’d turn to for a well-crafted paragraph, I think planning romantic outings might be more my area of expertise.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but the corner of her mouth still twitched. “You still can’t call me ‘love’.”
“Fine, Emma,” he sighed dramatically, trying to fight off another grin.
She stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them. “Lo-Emma, though,” she said, tapping a finger against her mouth, “that’s cool.”
“Good to know.”
She took a step back. “Cool.”
“So...shall I let you know when I’ve made plans for our date?”
Emma nodded at him happily, smiling serenely as she bid him farewell for now.
&&&
By the time he was able to organize something that worked for both his and Emma’s schedules, it was nearly a week later. Killian hoped the evening would suit her. He just wanted a good way for them to get to know each other better.
And they had been. Getting to know each other, that is.
While they hadn’t had a chance to see each other again, the days had been filled with texts and emails between them. Most were light, casual things, but a few...well, Killian was reminded of his near-celibacy since Milah’s death (other than a brief, alcohol-fueled spell where he had gone home from the bar with a different woman every night, which had ended abruptly when one had stolen a vintage compass that had been a gift from Liam).
Now, as he buttoned his vest in preparation for their date, he felt his gut churning. It was mostly excitement, to be sure. Being around Emma--it was to know life, excitement, both things he’d forgotten about in his grief and anger.
But he couldn’t pretend that part of what was bothering him wasn’t guilt. It had been almost two years since Milah’s passing, and he knew it was time to move on. Milah would want this; he knew that on an intellectual level. He and Emma had something that he wanted to explore.
But was he betraying Milah’s memory? Was he ready?
And then there was the other part of this that left him uneasy...his obligations to August. Now, more than ever, he regretted agreeing to August’s schemes and subterfuge. It made him feel dirty, and however she’d feel about Emma, Milah would hate this.
So would Emma. Actually, hate probably wasn’t strong enough--she’d loathe it, and she’d be right to never speak to him again if she found out.
He had to find a way to end this foul partnership and distance himself from August, even if it would cost him his job and whatever was growing between him and Emma. Even if he had to return to his apartment in London, with the intimidating blokes watching it…
But he would do it, because it was the right thing, and it was time for him to make better choices.
&&&
“I’m done,” Killian said without preamble.
“What? What are you talking about?” replied the voice at the other end of the line.
“I’m done keeping tabs on Emma, done spying on her for you. From now on, you’ll get the same updates as Cleo and Regina.”
There was a long silence, and then August spoke. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Jones? My...partner...won’t be happy to hear about this.”
“I’m sure.”
“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you owe us. For getting you out of the mess you were in, and for getting you settled in here. We can make things very unpleasant for you.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m sure you can, but I’m also confident that I’m the best choice for editor. I’ll continue doing my job,and I’ll repay my debt. Just not like that.”
August snorted. “Emma’s gotten to you, hasn’t she? Graham liked her too. If he’d lived, the two of them probably would have made a go of it. For all I know, they were going at it--”
“Enough. Emma’s past is her own, and her present is hers to decide. Do what you’d like with me, but leave her out of it.”
“You can’t afford the price to be paid, Jones. And you’re too much of a coward to try to pay it anyway. It’s part of what made you such a good choice.”
Killian hung up, the vein in his forehead throbbing. “We’ll see,” he said. “We shall see.”
He smiled grimly at his reflection in the mirror. It was time to meet Emma for their date, and he had to get himself in line. She didn’t need to know about his turmoil, about this mess of a situation. She couldn’t know.
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elliemarchetti · 7 years ago
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An Unexpected Journey part 3
I really like this title but a dear friend of mine pointed out it’s already the title of the first The Hobbit movie and I don’t want people to think this has something to do with The Hobbit. I chose this title because it’s how the story starts, with a Journey, but after this chapter the story will be called A Match Made in Hell, in tribute to the song A Match Made in Heaven by Architects and because Earth and life sometimes is Hell. 
Words: 1192
The girl blocked Magnus in the sports section. Christmas had arrived and passed in a flash, and now they were at the 27th of December, looking like the happy, extended family they weren’t.
"Hi," she said simply, but Magnus did not answered. She had promised that they would see each other again, even that she would explain - or perhaps he would understand, he did not remember - and then disappeared for days, making him believe he was crazy.
"You’re angry with me, isn’t it?"
Magnus tried not to answer, feeling like an insignificant worm. The girl's voice was so kind ... No, he had to be strong.
"You can refuse to answer me, but know that I know you can hear me." she went on, undeterred. Magnus did not answered, pretending to be interested in the shoes in the nice section Snaps To the Finish Line!
When he looked up again, his mysterious stalker's eyes were too close for him to feel comfortable. “I know you want to talk to me.” she said, and then, as if they weren’t this close just a moment before, she came back to the shelves, looking at a sexy pair of black leggings. Magnus felt his throat dry and tried to swallow his saliva. He loved Anna, he loved her with all of his being and he would have loved her for the rest of his days, but that girl, that hallucination, was beautiful, and to imagine her with those leggings on her legs ... It was enough to say that he found her sensual even with those deformed grey pants, which certainly did not do justice to her perfect body.
"Why are you tempting me?" Magnus asked in a whisper, full of anger. The girl answered him with the most innocent look, but at the bottom of those small pupils deep like wells, there was an almost mischievous light.
"Stop it, I will not give in to your tricks." he continued, trying to overcome her. He had to keep his eyes down to not devour her with one look.
"I have no idea who I was in the past for you, those like me are doomed to not remember, but if you can see me you must have loved that person a lot." she said behind him, and every trace of playfulness had vanished from her voice. Magnus froze.
"Do not even think about naming her." he hissed before reaching his family.
With a grimace, the stranger slipped a heavy bag on her shoulder and left the store. She was not a stalker, and if that boy did not want to help her, she would find someone else who was willing to do it.
She trusted her instincts, and decided to go upstairs to the big shopping center. No one met her gaze until she entered a pastry shop. A tall, thin woman with an outmoded pair of glasses smiled at her.
"Vanilla cupcakes are the best."
She had to be the owner of the store.
"My daughter adored them when she was a child."
"Don’t her like them anymore?" asked the girl, trying to be delicate. She wanted to investigate whom she might have represented for her in the past.
"No, now she prefers donuts, you know, teenagers." the woman answered, amicably. The girl smiled and took a cupcake. She had not been her daughter.
The door behind her opened with a tinkling of the bell. The girl turned, hoping that the owner would not speak to her with a customer inside. Then she met the sad look of the strawberry-haired boy, and she could not help but smile.
"I do not know why, but I figured I'd find you here." he said.
 "I would like to apologize," the boy began, but the girl beckoned to him.
"It does not matter, I know that seeing someone who everyone else does not see can be scary." she minimized. To be honest, though, she was hurt by his reaction.
"But I'm not afraid of you." Magnus corrected her in a low voice. They had taken refuge in an old library in the center, well hidden behind some large shelves containing old and dusty books. Nobody would have interrupted them there.
"Better like that." she answered, and they both remained silent while a woman, probably the librarian, was pushing a heavy cart with a wheel about to break, off the shelves. When she disappeared again, they resumed talking.
"I think you owe me some explanations, though." Magnus observed. And the girl could only explain everything to him, like she was only a soul unable to enter a newborn body as too old and destined to wander the world in search of someone who no longer wanted to live, who had lost their own soul in the course of her life. "The link, though." the girl explained. "It must be suitable."
"So anybody would not be fine." Magnus answered, and the girl nodded.
"But Anna had never lost the desire to live." the boy pointed out.
"She was probably the last body I came in as a baby girl." she suggested.
"It's strange," Magnus blurted out. The girl answered with a grimace. She did not needed it to be repeated.
"You're sure this Anna did not accept that she would die sooner or later, before ..." the girl broke off. Magnus' gaze had been lost in the void, a sign that she must have said something too much.
"It's not been a long time, is it?" she investigated.
"One year." he answered absent-minded.
"You do not have to help me." she reminded him. "That woman, at the candy store, could see me, I just have to talk to her, try to make her understand ..." she began, but Magnus interrupted her.
"I do not feel obliged, but I want to know more, you were Anna, and I cannot allow the soul that was in her body, her deepest being, to wander the streets in search of another body to occupy, I do not do it for you, I do it for her.”
“And that’s the reason why you can’t help me. If you do it for someone that no longer exist, you want to find someone like her for me to be. I’m not Anna. I was her and she was me but not anymore. I was someone that woman loved, and someone that girl on the train loved too. I’m too many people to choose to be Anna.” she replied, looking deeply in Magnus eyes.
“I need time to think about it. I don’t know if having her soul around would help me.” He replied , after a long moment of silence.
“I have time. If you want to talk to me you can find me in this coffee shop downtown.” she said, giving him what looked like a business card. All in a Breath was the place’s nameand Magnus thought it was bizarre.
"Wait, I do not even know ..." Magnus began, but when he looked up the girl was gone. "...your name." he told himself, more than at the void left by the girl.
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fuckyeahrp · 7 years ago
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RP Rules
Ripping this almost line for line off of a new, much more prepared RPer mate of mine: https://reportsduemonday.tumblr.com/ CloveeD, you’re probably the only person that will see this for the foreseeable future, ahaha, but I suppose I could use this as a base for any serious RP I have in the future so it’s a brilliant thing to make! Gosh if you ever have the time, I’d love to talk to you about how to make a well thought out RP blog like yours @_@
Roleplaying Information 
Name: Alex 
Pronouns: She/Her, He/Him (given to fluctuation, as such I’m fine with anyone using They/Them for simplicity sake when I haven’t otherwise specified a desire for folks to exclusively use of either He/Him or She/Her pronouns when referring to me.)  
Fandom Activities: I roleplay and write fanfiction more than anything else (the later I need to get back into tbh) but also draw (need to start posting fan art) 
I’m open to collabs, never really done that tho? Message me! I don’t bite. Hard. 
Main Blog: I would only feel inclined to share this if asked by a fellow RP mate that I’ve been writing with for a while already and trust with a more personal connection. If this is somehow an issue, message me and we can work it out. 
Art Blog: pending 
AO3: pending rebranding 
Fandom Blog: Fuck Yeah I Ship It (not exclusive to Stucky, that’s just the majority of what I’ve recently posted…)
(I’ve honestly just finished a major life milestone that kept me from drawing and writing much, so I have to get back into the swing of producing my own creative content as opposed to just lazily reblogging shit off mobile) 
Rules
I prefer roleplaying using email (again, message me) or this blog. I tend to find folks (when I seek out RPing) off Omegle, probably because I haven’t yet discovered a more reliable website (if there is something like Omegle out there for folks wanting to RP that isn’t a group chat then I’m happy to hear suggestions). 
I almost exclusively write in 3rd person with the exception of italicized internal thoughts where necessary or characteristic of the RP/character. Past or present tense, but hopefully just one tense throughout the life of the specific RP.  1-3 paragraph responses given I have enough inspiration or intent to build off of and or responses aren’t just simple back and forth dialogue. 
I may drop an RP thread if any of the following occurs
- I feel as though there is no plot development or hope for advancement in the story/world created 
- I feel as though I am carrying the story or simply matching short, un-involved or uninspired responses 
- There are chronic, long delays between responses (mitigated usually only by really interesting plots and long replies. Of course I understand that life happens, you can’t reply for a day or two, but if I’m getting one response every three days for the rest of the RP then I’m going to lose momentum and interest. Much of what motivates me to keep RPing is my excitement over your responses, development of character and plot. If you’ve hooked me on one of those fronts then I’ll reply more frequently and with longer posts)
- One or more of my hard-no’s is utilized in story without prior discussion. 
- There is no open discussion/dialogue between yourself and myself to remedy any of the above  factors
If I think of more I might add to this but I think that’s the gist of it. 
I don’t really follow for follow, if there is something about your blog that piques my interest then I may follow, but don’t just expect it. My following someone is interest based, not some odd unspoken social media obligation. 
Ask Box and Messaging should be open, feel free to message me whenever! I keep strange hours though so bear with me. 
Never hesitate to share your RP Rules with me if we’ve started or plan on starting an RP together, I will make an effort to read and know your rules and hope you do the same with mine (I mean you’ve already gotten this far in this post, might as well right? haha) 
The Yeses
Genres: Action, Adventure, Crime & Gangster, Drama, Epics, Fantasy, Science Fiction
Themes: Character development, world building, angst/dark plot, fluffy/light/sweet plot, porn with plot
Alternate Universes: ABO, Mpreg, BDSM, Harry Potter/Hogwarts, Pacific Rim, Magical Creatures (vampire, werewolf, harpy, siren, centaur, fawn, mermaid or other hybrid animal-humanoid AUs), Cyborg/Robot (one character as AI or part machine), Human (for fantastical or Sci-fi fandoms such as a No-Powers AU for an Avengers or Harry Potter/FBAWTFT centric RP), Powers (for non-powered or “normal person” fandoms), College, Mob/Mafia, Cam!Boy, Royalty/Prince/Princess, Arranged Marriage
AUs are pretty fun, I’m sure there are some I missed, just pose an idea and we can see if we can make it work!
Kinks: Note that these should always be negotiated, either before starting an RP (if planning one together), made clear in the prompt or easily extrapolated from prompt or worked out in dialogue between yourself and me before working it into an existing and continued RP. Power bottom, topping from the bottom, impact play, sensory play, breath play, feminization, crosdressing, orgasm denial, bondage, sensory deprivation, praise, humiliation, voyeurism, anonymous sex (glory holes), fake but perceived “public use” or “gang bang” (as in character A likes the idea of being used by multiple folks but perhaps character B is too possessive to actually hand them off to a group of people), double penetration, cock rings, ring gags, age difference (everyone is of legal consenting age), deepthroating, breath play, pillow princess, sex toys, dub-con, sex pollen, heats/ruts, cum play, magic involvement and I’m sure more I’m sure, just ask me. 
The Maybes 
Genres: Comedy 
Themes: Minor character death
Alternate Universes: High School (age difference and Teacher x Student is a major slippery slope, also see The Hard No’s) 
Kinks: Why these are Maybes and not Yeses or Hard No’s is contingent on the context of the RP, when in doubt, ask me and we can work something out. Violence, torture, psychological abuse, physical abuse, psychological disturbances, drug use (consensual or not), non-con, fuck-or-die, blood play, gang bang, gang rape, prostitution/forced prostitution, public use “period realistic” or homophobia realistic to a character’s personality and more. Like always, its a negotiation, just ask. 
The Hard No’s 
Genres: Horror, War/Politics (fandom specific, message me), Westerns (only exclusion is some Westworld AU or the like) 
Themes: Major character death, porn without plot (these just seem to die or loose interest much too fast),  wangst centric plot
Alternate Universes: De-Aged, TinyCharacterA (as in one of the characters is super small for some reason and everything else is normal sized) 
Kinks: Eating disorders, psychologist/doctor x patient, religion, incest, grossly under age, self harm, scat/feces/piss, necrophilia and I’m sure to add to any and all of these categories. 
My fandoms of interest 
Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Marvel, DC, Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Pacific Rim, Mad Max Fury Road, Sherlock, Game of Thrones, Westworld, Super Girl, The Flash, One Punch Man, Yuri on Ice, Attack on Titan, Deadman Wonderland, Final Fantasy, Dragon Age Inquisition Overwatch and I’m going to leave it at that for now. 
My Ships
A separate post with an in progress list of my ships can be found here
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