#tolkien loves to tear my heart out

[sapphoismymuse]

We drove out orcs from the great gate and guard room—we slew many in the bright sun in the dale. Flói was killed by an arrow. He slew the great… Flói under grass near Mirror mere… We have taken the twentyfirst hall of North end to dwell in. There is… shaft… Balin has set up his seat in the Chamber of Mazarbul… gold… Durin’s axe… Balin is now lord of Moria.

… we found truesilver… wellforged… mirthril… Óin to seek for the upper armouries of Third Deep… westwards… to Hollin gate.

yestre day being the tenth of novembre Balin lord of Moria fell in Dimril Dale. He went alone to look in Mirror mere. An orc shot him from behind a stone. We slew the orc, but many more… up from east up the Silverlode… we have barred the gates… can hold them long if… horrible… suffer…

We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and the second hall. Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there… went 5 days ago… pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes… drums, drums in the deep… they are coming.

The Book of Mazarbul, The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

[serawritesthings]

SPELLBOUND

Pairing | Legolas x Reader Summary | Your bittersweet love will surely endure until the last of your days. Word Count | 1.1k A/N | Hello lovelies! Ever since I was young, my love for Tolkien has been my greatest inspiration when it came to writing and world-building. But, also all the fantastic writers out there that had me plastered to my computer at 4 in the morning, staying up all night reading wonderfully written stories about all the characters. So, because of this, I am taking a tiiiiiiny step into the community with this short story, hoping some of you will enjoy it. If you do, I'll happily write some more, and if you have an idea you would like me to write, feel free to send me a message!

“Our love cannot be.” 

Her words had echoed in his mind since the moment they left her blushed lips, at first only mindless words lingering in his mind as he stared thoughtlessly, then excessively nagging at him with every chance. Obsessively and utterly spellbound, he could only stare into your teary eyes that never hid from him, taking your trembling lips to his longing ones in a silent protest and carefully surrendering to the prospect of a love that might be possible if you loved hard enough. 

How naive you were, for you said the words too late. What good did it bring to only now speak of what you should have said a long time ago?  Perhaps it could be a testament to yourself that you at least tried to cease what you had, however weak the attempt might have been. Furthermore, you might have wished for him to be stronger than you, more sensible–but perhaps you were too alike in that sense.

“How can you say those words when you already know how my heart longs for you?” You could only close your eyes as he spoke, words dripping like honey over your troubled mind. Momentarily, you bathed in the golden glow, feeling the tenderness soothe the aches and hurt. How could you give him an answer that wouldn’t cause pain when his very words pierced you so–when his care for you extended further than you could have ever expected?

Devastated by the uncertainty that clouded your mind, shaking fingers jerked away from their hold on the silk that covered his forearms. You gasped when his hands didn’t hesitate to grasp yours, placing your palms against his heart that thumped heavily beneath the layers of fabric. 

“Do you feel that?” He spoke softly, leaning his head down to try and meet your avoidant eyes as his other hand found your cheek. “It does not beat like this for anyone but you.”

Unshed tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession, overwhelmed by the idea of being loved by someone who would surpass the short time you had yet to live. Time was a cruel hand, one you couldn’t help but fear deeply, for he, bound to centuries, had a timeless plight while you were made to fade in the fleeting light.

“Our love is naught but a flame caught between two winds,” you say in sorrow, eyes closed to spare yourself the guilt you would feel if you gazed into his sky-blue eyes, the usual vibrancy muted–as if the stars that danced within them had momentarily dimmed. “It’s fragile and fleeting, how will it last?”

“Have I not pledged my heart to you?” Legolas implored, his words dulled with sorrow at the distress residing in your eyes. “Have I not deserved to relish in the warmth you bring me?” 

“Legolas…” He heard you whisper, a gentle plea that fell on deaf ears as he drew you closer, meeting your lips in a longing kiss. In a stolen breath, he reveled in the taste as his forever gentle hands cradled your face, fingers tracing the delicate contours as if to etch it into memory–into the fabric of his immortal being. 

With each passing heartbeat, the glade witnessed two souls so desperate yet unsure, and as it held its breath, the air shimmered around them in the quiet night. Like a silent whisper on your skin, his fingers lighted a path like fire as they caressed, refusing to let you pull away. Oh, how you wanted to. Yet, your heart clamped something so fiercely when the thought passed through your mind, the feeling not far from making you double over in anguish from having to be apart. 

The desperation in his embrace pulled at your heartstrings, urging you to cast away the dark thoughts that rained over you endlessly and lose yourself in his arms that wound their way around you–shielding you from hesitation and fear.

Yet tentative, your response wasn’t passive; fingers seeking refuge in the strands of his silken hair, and with each strand that slipped through your touch, only felt all the more consumed.

“You say it can’t be, yet why can’t my body stop aching for your touch even though you are right here, already in my arms?” His voice was a soft murmur in the night, lips parting for only a moment when speaking to find yours, then again, refusing to let you protest. “Mortal you may be, yet my heart yearning does not know the confines of time.”

Your gaze softened by his sincerity, voiced by her uncertainty. “I can not help but worry about what happens when my time passes. What aching memories will it leave you with…” You trailed off as the thought crossed your mind, but as you felt Legolas brush a strand of hair away from your tear-stained cheek, a soft determination shone through his glossy eyes. 

“Then surely I will pass, for I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life in a world where I can not gaze upon the wonders of your spirit that light up the darkest corners of my soul.” Yet melancholy, the words rang true as his voice had a slight undertone of acceptance that confused you. 

He knew that when the burden of your parting would become too heavy, he would transcend the sorrow that bound him to this earthy realm and leave all behind in hopes of once more feeling your touch on his graying skin. He came to welcome the idea a long time ago. Yet, the sadness in your eyes hurt him terribly, and his mind didn’t know how to lessen your anguish and recover the gleam that continuously resided deep within them, at times almost bursting with wonder.

“Why do you speak so indifferently? The thought does nothing but pains me something so fiercely.” He only gave you a soft smile in return, grasping your cheeks between his palms, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin underneath it.

“Can you not see, my love?” Placing his forehead against yours, his eyes pierced yours warmly, reassuring you that he only spoke of the truth. “In the realm beyond, we will once more find the embrace of one another, and I will continue to love you as I do now."

“Fret not, meleth nín.” Placing a tender kiss on your teary cheek, he whispered in your ear, bringing your head to rest wearily in the crook of his neck. “For you shall have me for the remaining part of your days, and when your departure becomes a burden too heavy to bear, I shall find you amidst the stars.”

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (1)

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

A/N: This is basically God of War 2 x Witcher fics (i didn't watch it) x Tolkien x some of my original worldbuilding for my own stories x kinda omeraverse. I have no idea where this is going, but I'm having fun.

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Abby runs. Her speed is fueled by adrenaline and fear. She is hurt and her fur is so red from blood that it's impossible to see her sandy coat at all. Abby is not sure she will survive even if she somehow escapes Isaac and his dogs: she is getting dizzy and tired. 

The Moon shines on her and Abby tries to see any path she can follow and shake Isaac off, but Abby knows the smell of her blood is so prominent nothing will hide her. 

If Abby was in human form she'd have probably given up by now, but she is a wolf now and her instincts push her forward, push her into survival, no matter what it will take. So Abby keeps running through the fields, hearing Isaac’s wolves from every direction as if they're circling her. Abby speeds up, not feeling her wounds, and follows the Moon. 

The Moon shines on the dark tall forest: it looks intimidating. Any other time Abby would avoid this forest because she is not insane, she can feel this forest is not just woods. This forest is alive and will swallow her if she goes inside, but between her former pack trying to tear her apart and slowly getting killed by the forest, Abby chooses the forest. 

She can't be sure it will kill her anyway: nature is odd and has a mind of its own. But her packmates will kill her, there's no doubt.

And all for what? For her standing up for her friends who refused to kill innocent people so their pack would have more resources? Isaac really didn't like hearing his killings and raids are nothing more than cruelty and despotism than any kind of holy war on humans who hate werewolves and want them dead. 

(Humans rarely care as long as you stay human around them and don't go on a rampage.)

So Isaac wanted to make an example out of them. Abby held off while others escaped - she is the strongest in the pack and can take a few wolves at once in the fight - but then she had to escape as well. 

And now she is getting closer to the edge of the woods and her heart is trembling from anxiety. She has no idea what will happen when she crosses the line, but if her pack follows her, the forest won't be kind to them either. 

So Abby takes a deep breath and runs into the forest. 

Inside the forest Abby hears nothing. Well, she hears rustling and can feel the wind, but there is no sign of the outside world. Her ears can't pick up on the footsteps of her pack that were deafening when she ran. No smell of them either, no heartbeats, nothing. As if they just disappeared. It's uncanny and Abby is scared, but nothing comes at her. 

Abby cautiously goes on a trail in front of her - she is not questioning this, this forest is weird - and her tiredness catches up with her. Her paws are barely moving but she pushes herself forward anyway, trusting this place to guide her since it didn't go hostile immediately. Abby looks back just to be sure and yes, the trail is still there, the forest isn't tricking her. 

Her heart is still beating crazy, but she feels safe from the chase and doesn't try to run anymore. The trail leads her to the river which shines strangely - or that what Abby thinks until she sees this is just the Moon reflecting in the water. Abby lies on the shore and laps at the water until her thirst goes away - she doesn't turn into a human, too weak and too scared: the wolf is stronger and heals faster. She feels so tired, she lost so much blood it scares her, she feels like she is very close to death now, but somehow Abby finds some strength to quickly bathe in the river and clean her injuries. 

She is also hungry, but she just can't. Abby sniffs around and catches some damp smell that feels like the inside of the cave and she follows it. There's indeed a den, probably used by a bear before, but the scent of it is so weak it's not coming back. So Abby curls around herself and falls asleep, trying not to think about not waking up ever again. 

The woodpecker starts knocking on the trees and you try to ignore it, but then the sun shines through your window and this is it, no sleep for you. You huff half-heartedly, but you don't mind forest's games. Sometimes they're grumpy and you wake up in a damp hot fog that clots your lungs, so the annoying woodpecker is not bad at all. 

The morning is beautiful: it's quiet, sunny and warm, even though the summer is ending. Probably this is why the woods are in a sweet mood - they're already mourning, which means they're celebrating the beginning of something new. 

This is the last day of the full moon and you plan on collecting some of the flowers that bloom only under the moonlight. It's not your favourite activity, since it's so dark and this forest is living its own life - they don't really care if there is a witch or not and if this witch is alive or not, you're just a passing in their lifetime. 

Useful passing though - you know the woods like you because you keep them clean and healthy when they can't; you keep the passing people from hurting them and the villagers from exploiting them. 

You've lived in the village for a few years before moving here - the call of the forest was too strong, and the times when you'd come to harvest some of the ingredients they wouldn't let you out. At first you thought they were mad at you - but then they saved your ass multiple times from animals (or, in one particular case, a werebear who really wanted to rip your throat out). So you went there for a few nights one time and lied in the bog, trying to connect with them - and they did, and told you they want you to be here. So you stayed, knowing better than arguing with a sentient forest.

The villagers were not super happy about losing their witch to the forest, but you visit them almost every other day, healing people and getting food in return, or clothes or anything which is available to your patients. They rarely come to you - they're wary of the woods, since some people got lost there and some only returned after a week, almost driven mad. The forest is not some kind of god or deity, their mood changes with wind, and by the end of the day, they really don’t care who gets hurt, unless they’re in the mood to save you. Or if they’re in the mood to kill you, then there’s no escape.

You get ready for the day, putting your salves and tinctures in your basket to head out to the village - there's always someone who is hurt and who needs some kind of help. Plus, sometimes it's nice to just be around people - and around your people, since this village is not entirely human. There's a dwarf and an elf who live close by - you have no idea why they're here, especially since the elf comes from an important old family, she is not just a peasant. But you don't ask questions, and they don't ask you questions about your past. 

You leave the forest at noon and walk to the village, enjoying the weather and the sun that warms you. Children see you and run towards you, putting their curious noses into your basket, so you spare some flower milk for them, since this is what they're looking for. They ramble about anyone who needs help and lead you to the houses. It's not a busy day, but you get stuck with an old lady whose back is hurting her. 

“Wow.” You sigh when you feel the knots in her muscles. “What were you doing yesterday? Carrying rocks?”

“My grandson came to play. We ran around a bit, he jumped everywhere, such a naughty darling!” Mari laughs. “I felt like I was a young lass again.”

You chuckle at this and press at her muscles, releasing tension. Mari squeals and twitches in pain, but she is a tough lady, so you keep massaging her with a bit of magic to make her feel better. 

You like lazy days - lazy days mean everyone is okay and you won't have to stand at another funeral: your magic is not some kind of miraculous cure, not for humans, anyway. It doesn't connect with them the way it connects with non-humans, so your help is still limited. 

You go around, giving people some tinctures for the upcoming cold season - children are especially vulnerable during autumn, so you want to prevent their illnesses as best as you can. 

The sun is slowly starting to set when you make it to Vi and Caitlyn’s house: it's on the edge of the village and it's odd. You don't know why, but looking at the clash of elven grace and dwarven coarseness makes you feel funny. It doesn't belong together, but then it does, and you always giggle when you visit them. 

They're an odd pair as well: Caitlyn opens the door, elegant and tall, and hugs you.

“Oh, darling, I hope your day was easy on your heart.” Caitlyn speaks as if she only knows poetry, while...

“Well she doesn't look like shit today.” The short, buff Vi comes into your view and you laugh. 

They don't belong together, but they do, and you can't help the flutter of your heart when you see Caitlyn caress Vi’s head gently, tracing her tattoos with her pretty fingers while Vi flexes her big biceps.  

Caitlyn makes tea for you while Vi takes her special tincture (read: magic booze) from your basket. 

“Best one yet, witch.” Vi smirks and sits next to you and Caitlyn. “Make me a few of them and I'll make you something nice.”

“Deal.” You do need a new dagger, and Vi is an amazing smith. 

It's been a while since you visited them, so you spend the whole evening in their house, catching up, listening to Caitlyn's complaints - which they never sound like, because she is the most graceful person you know - and sharing your own struggles. Vi for the most part works in her workshop, but now and then she'd come and give you her thoughts as well. 

You leave their house when the Moon is full and bright in the sky, and you make your way back to the forest. 

They don't greet you this time, but you don't mind - the mood of the woods is not your business. You cast a spell that will lead you to the moon peppers and follow it carefully: you can see pretty well in the dark, but you don't want to fall with a full basket of elven treats and dwarven booze, and your new tunic from Mari. 

Moon peppers - and they're not, in fact, peppers, they're flowers that look like peppers - are on the other end of the forest, and it takes you some time to finally get there, but you can't help your pleased gasp when you see them. The flowers shine in the moonlight, fully fluorescent - they're beautiful. You look up to the Moon and nod to her for her wonderful work.

You crunch in front of the bush and take your knife out, cutting the beautiful blooms - not only do they look nice, but moon peppers save the moon magic in them forever, and you can use them in truly powerful potions that can help with serious illnesses. 

You cut almost all of the blooms when you hear rustling behind the bush, and you look curiously: usually it would be a hedgehog going on his way. 

Then the bush gets separated in half and you freeze in terror. 

You blink at the wolf. 

The wolf blinks back. 

You scramble to your feet, take your basket and start moving away slowly, not sure of the wolf's intentions. The eyes of the wolf are golden - it's a were - and it snarls at you, baring the sharp teeth. 

Oh fuck no, you think as you swallow. Not fucking again.

The wolf growls and you don't need another cue, you run for your life - you don't know how lucid this werewolf is and you don't want to wait to find out; you have scars from the last encounter with a were and you're not eager to repeat it. 

The wolf chases you, low growling is loud in your ears, but you know these woods and you pray they won't play you now as you run to your hut. Your lungs are on fire, but you only need to make it to the protective circle that the wolf won't be able to cross. The basket is clinking and you somehow make a spell to save the contents when you hear the wolf getting closer.

“Fuck off!” You yell, annoyed and terrified. “Leave me alone, wolf!”

The wolf just growls again and you hear it right behind you, so you send a pulse of magic to trip the wolf. It hurts, why the fuck does it hurt? You don't know and don't care right now, just running as fast as you can. You won't be able to take a werewolf in a fight - haven't been able for quite some time now - but you can slow it down. You hop over the branches like a trained horse, looking ahead and making shortcuts whenever you can, because your home is a long way from the moon peppers and your stamina is nothing compared to the stamina of a werewolf. The wolf however struggles to catch up, and you’re grateful - is it forest helping you or the wolf being stupid doesn’t matter.

You see the hut and speed up, crossing the line of your circle and immediately falling down on the ground, coughing out your own lungs. It takes a few seconds for the wolf to get to you, and it pounces - and even if you know it won't cross the circle, it's terrifying. You close your face instinctively and shriek in fear, but of course, nothing happens: the wolf smacks into the invisible wall and falls down. You use this moment to get up and run to your house, closing the door and casting a few spells just to be sure there's no weak spot in your shields. You walk to the window on your shaking legs, all covered in mud, and you look out. The wolf is circling your shields, growling and scraping the walls with its gigantic paws. It sees you and gets more aggressive, so you move away from the window and sit on the floor. 

You're still panting, and even your shields don't make you feel better - last time the werebear broke them and maimed you until the forest actually intervened and dragged the bear away from you. It was nasty and took so long to heal, but the scarring was minimum - most of the injuries healed without a trace. 

You calm down, your breathing is getting normal again, and you look at your basket with a bunch of moon peppers in it. 

The wolf will not get away with it, you decide. You'll show it who is the boss here.

[eunoiaastralwings]

Hi Eunoia, this is my first time requesting so I'm hoping I'm doing this correctly (I've read through your rules as well), but could I request a mini fic/headcanon about fem!reader reuniting with her lovers Fingon and Maedhros in Valinor after the Ring has been destroyed? (Plot: Reader stayed in Middle Earth after Fingon and Maedhros' deaths to look after Elrond, and only returns to Valinor on the last boat with Elrond, Bilbo, Galadriel, Frodo and Gandalf after Sauron is gone?)

Haven Reached

featuring maedhros x fingon x fem reader

fandom tolkien-the silmarillion

warnings slight angst

a/n i reply after 1658565 years - I hope this is what you intended hun sorry if it isnt as you hoped to have

You stepped onto the shores with help of the son you had raised.

As you did – many fair elves turned to you, captured by the beauty and elegance you carried effortlessly without fail.

With eyes that spoke wisdom of many passed ages and kindness that could sweep the many ellon or elleth right under their feet – you stepped gracefully into the shores of Valinor from the last boat.

For a moment – your eyes looked back into the seas. . .Arda seemed almost a distant memory now and while you were supposed to return to Valinor many, many years ago to heal your aching heart and crying soul for your beloveds. . .

As a mother – you stayed behind, willing to put your heartaches aside to the twin sons you had gained.

Even though one of your adopted sons, Elros had chosen a different path in life. . .a short mortal life, you still failed to return, staying behind for Elrond.

For deep down – you knew he needed you and would fare well if you departed Arda so soon.

But suddenly your thoughts were grasped away when a voice called your name – mending a part of your heart with the lightness of that gentle voice.

“Melda. . .”

Your heart fluttered – then turning your eyes immediately those nestling browns of one of your lovers made half your soul crying out to him.

“Finno. . .”

Your voice – soft, delicate, and beautiful just as he remembered -like the early spring breeze.

“Y/N. . .”

He didn’t waste a moment longer to swiftly embrace you in his strong arm – caging you to his chest as if you were the air that he longed to have.

“You’re here. . .”

He said almost breathless – as if he was unable to believe his own eyes.

His hand came to rest on the back of your head – cradling your head as he pressed a kiss to your head, lingering there for a few moments longer.

“You’re here. . .”

He repeated – holding you tighter. If you listened carefully, you could hear an emotional tinge in his voice.

“Finno. . .”

You whispered – the tears you had suppressed for so long coming in with full force and Fingon did not hesitate to soothe you.

Soon gently lifting your face and locking your lips firmly in a familiar and almost forgotten kiss – soothing half of your crying soul as he embraced you with his tender affection and love, with touch of his desires he was forced to hold back as you were still standing among the shores.

The kiss was nothing short of what you had imagined with Fingon on your countless nights dreaming of meeting him – it was tender, loving, tearful and blissful.

“Come . . .”

He softly whispered.

“We shall meet Maitimo – otherwise he will think I have whisked you away all by myself, melda. . .”

Your heart fluttered as his loving tease just as you remembered came.

You smiled – cupping his face and stroking his cheeks – the imagines of his death finally leaving as he held you. . .your soul slowly reached that peace you had always dreamed of.

Fingon lips stretched into that charming smile that never ceased to flutter your heart.

The softest of red coated your cheeks and her fingers gently traced that smile you longed to see for many ages now.

Fingon reached forward and kissed your forehead – soon taking your hand to guide you to your Maitimo.

You momentarily looked over your shoulder – your motherly instinct making your eyes search for your son.

Elrond met your eyes and nodded encouraging – silently telling all was well as he embraced your daughter -in-law.

“I always knew you would be a wonderful mother – I am very much proud of you, my love – in everything you have chosen to do, no matter how gravely we missed you. . .”

Fingon softly whispered as his hand protectively held your small hand in his strong large hand.

“Thank you, melda. . .”

You smiled -Fingon’s ears perked up recognizing the change of your accent now.

If anything, it pleasantly surprised him – and he endearingly loved how your accent changed to hold only a tinge of your former Valinor accent now – now vastly an accent of Arda with a tinge of your old accent.

His eyes sparkled getting used to the change – realizing how much he already loved it.

“You sound beautiful. . .”

He said – cupping the side of your face gently for a moment.

***

Fingon led you towards the gardens of Lord Irmo – your hands were delicately brushing the flowers of the garden, each one unique to the next.

A vast variety of textures and color you couldn’t find in Arda – making you realize just how long you have been away from your birth place.

Maitimo saw Fingon walking towards him from the corner of his eyes – immediately standing tall.

“Where is she? I heard the last of the boats have-”

But Maitimo seemed to have cut himself off seeing your small figure treading up behind his male lover.

A shaky breath left Maitimo’s lips as his eyes locked with your eyes – the part of his soul that had being missing about to be reunited.

But you could see the clear hesitance in your other lover’s eyes.

Fingon turned to you – giving you the soft encouraging nod as you step past him towards your other lover.

Maitimo’s entire body froze – his eyes wide as you approached him.

It pained you to see him so nervous and scared – he gulped now that you were so close, only a foot or two away.

You knew why he was hesitant and scared – for Maitimo did not even spare you a glance or even spoke to you one last night as he fled from Eonwe’s tents with the silmarils.

He knew you broke your heard as he discarded you for the sake of the oath – he had placed the oath above you.

“Russo. . .”

You said softly reaching out to cup his face – he flinched stepped back a little.

Your heart ached at the sight. He must have seen the flash of hurt that crossed your eyes – because then he left out sigh closing his eyes heavily, before he fully crouched before you.

“Y/N. . .meldanya. . .forgive me. . .”

He whispered – a heartbroken whisper.

You sighed reaching out to cup his face and gently stroked his cheek – he instantly closed his eyes leaning into your touch and kissed your fingertips softy.

“Oh. . .Russo. . .”

You called him softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead as he broke into tears in front of his two lovers.

Fingon came forward – laying a comforting hand on Maitimo and an arm around your waist, his thumb caressing you softly.

“We’re here now. . .together”

Finno whispered laying another kiss to the side of your head – as Maitimo finally had the courage to find your lips in a soft kiss realizing you had forgiven him.

“Together. . .forever. . .”

You promised the two of them – now had you had your lovers back you weren’t going to give them up again.

Taglist form

tara's taglist:@mismaeve @fizzyxcustard @wandererindreams @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @bunson-burner @floraroselaughter

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

[roguishcat]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Thank you for the tag @astarionancuntnin! 💕

When did you start writing?

Wrote my first story when I was 16 (original fantasy stuff that was just random scenes that I kept dreaming up when I listened to my sad girl music.) Then I started reading fanfiction and decided to have a go at writing fanfic when I was about 20. Was quite active in a couple of fandoms but gave it up when I was 25. And then BG3 happened and now I'm in my early 30s and having a great time writing fanfiction again!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I love reading all sorts, drama, horror (but not dumb 'everyone dies just because' stuff), mystery, romance.

And I will write most things, not straight up gore though.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I used to try to be 'clever' with my writing until I realised that you have to be clever for that. 😁😂 I just stick to slightly quirky, light-hearted stuff with some angst thrown in.

So no, I don't think I get compared to any writers. 🙂

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I mostly write on my laptop wherever I am at the time. At work during breaks, at home on the sofa (nestled between my dog and my cat), pretty much anywhere.

I have enough books in my apartment to sink a battleship (according to my grandmother), so I suppose the whole place has a bit of a 'library' feel. So, in a way my writing space is a library.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Dreaming up stuff before I fall asleep. I overfixate when I listen to music and replay the same scene over and over. Daydreaming helps me write dialogue and get a general out line, and THEN I will listen to the same ten songs on repeat. 😁

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Cute fluff stuff. My last relationship was toxic and ended awfully, and just want to write about romantic tooth-rotting fluff. What can I say, I love love.

What is your reason for writing?

I work two jobs and very long hours, so just want to do something for myself. And I enjoy writing. Though sometimes I hate it too! Like when words are really not wording and I have to abandon something for a while before getting back into it.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love all comments, although of course ones that go into detail about which parts readers liked are the best! Feedback is crucial. I realise that my writing is definitely not the best out there (I'm working on improving it!), but if readers find the story moving and enjoy the way I portray their favourite characters and tell me, it honestly makes me tear up sometimes.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'm not sure exactly how to answer this tbh. 🙂 Approachable, respectful, friendly. I am not sure that this is exactly how I am come across, but I hope that everyone feels that they can send me a message/ask and not feel silly for it. I love chatting and doing challenges and things. If you sent me something and I did not respond, I'm either working on it or Tumbl didn't tag me properly.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Dialogue, at least this is the part that I enjoy writing. The banter between Astarion and other characters especially.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I feel dumb when I make dumb mistakes and notice them after posting. I try to spot them by reading out loud.

But I do love my stories because I love the characters. When I finished my first run of BG3 I immediately started writing. What a wonderful game to have inspired so many creatives!

I adore works by many writers, like Maugham (especially 'Theatre'), anything by Bradbury, Tolkien (of course), Maupassant etc. I cried when I read Gail Honeyman 'Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine'. But I don't think that I would ever try to write in their styles. Not for any particular reason, I just write better when I don't try to 'reach for the Moon', because then I just get upset that my writing is crap in comparison.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Both, that's for sure. I write stuff and find it delightful and funny, and then remember that I find oddest things funny. And then I think, is this weird? Ah well, we ball!

No pressure tags 💖: @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @clazberryk,

@inkymoonbunny,

@ladyduellist, @cinnamontails-ff,

@silent-words, @anacdoce, @bellasmumblingsandmusings,

@fangbangerghoul, @mellybaggins, @lavenderfluorite14, @waterdeep-weavemoss

[edensrose]

˚◞❀˳ a proper farewell

god that title sounds dramatic as fuck so let me just clear things up immediately: no, I'm not leaving tumblr, I will still be very manageable to reach and interact. what I am drifting away from is the tolkien fandom — and since this place, despite my hardships, has meant so much to me - I decided to give it a proper little farewell, to the people who made everything count. along with a little explanation for my decision while shedding light on my experience. ( I'll try to be brief )

I joined the tolkien fandom while writing for thranduil, it's here I gained my following in the fanbase and things went quite smoothly. however, upon beginning to write for mairon, then melkor and then later the ainur — I saw an increase in hate anons. something I have experienced before, natural of a multi fandom blog, but never to this degree. initially I assumed it was because I was simply growing larger as a blog, and perhaps that is the reason — but from what I noticed, I was battling with a bunch of chronically online people who simply could not handle my love for. . . "problematic characters"

I never understood it, really. I never saw other ainur blogs getting the hate I did - I guess I'll truly never know. had I done something? was my writing just not good enough? were my vibes off? over the time I've been called things like two faced, fake, a romanticiser of abuse, lazy for not filing out requests, been told I shouldn't write reader inserts, told to kms and other graphic incidents ( such as people sending death threats and actual gore to my inbox ). this branched from burner accounts to anons, and I could just never understand why me. a quick gander at the #clownon tag and you'll find some of the instances in which I've been harassed.

I genuinely thought my writing was the issue.

which demotivated me from writing for quite some time. could I have turned anon off? sure, but that would have meant that the anons I'd frequently interact with would most likely not come around anymore. it meant a decline in requests, it meant just a crippling factor to my blog in general, so I chose to ignore. but it got hard to eventually. I was bullied for liking a god with big wings just because for crying out loud.

I've tried to fake being okay. fake being strong and unwavering about the hate, but I just couldn't anymore. and that's okay.

it wasn't all tears and hardships though. I have made very good friends through the tolkien fandom, many of which I consider close. from @bluezenzennie to @kiatheinsomniac — @a-contemplation-upon-flowers , @cilil , @someoneinthestars and so so many more. it'd take me forever to tag and honestly my heart is squeezing so much listing these few down already. they made fandom fun, whether it was our silly little play fights or collabs or you name it. those of you that have spent time to tell me about your day on anon or send in the nicest of things. I haven't forgotten them, and I cherish them, but it's time for me to go

am I sad? fucking of course. a part of me found so much comfort here and in these characters. I've spent hours on end developing lore for aus or designing aesthetics for writing — just writing and pumping out content or blogs, everything and anything I could do. and while I don't regret those times - the way I've been treated in response hurts. which is why I've made this decision.

I'm growing as a person too. I'm writing a book now, I've got an oc blog to promote that book that I'm working hard on ( @valentine-cafe ) , things are looking good. does this mean I'm just gonna disappear? of course not. I plan on staying around, getting back into request writing ( for other fandoms ) and still interacting and supporting my tolkien moots and friends. will I be writing or creating content for tolkien? probably not. at least not in the foreseeable future. the characters I once loved and cherished have now been ruined for me. I've been made to feel embarrassed for loving manwe and namo to the degree that I have, and I don't see myself being able to write for ainur without thinking of all the shit I've gotten for doing so.

regardless, I'll be here still. and while I might not be your local valarfucker anymore, I hope to be your rose still 🩷 thank you so much for two and a half years, I love you all dearly

[steebharringt0n]

a final dance

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader summary: steve harrington was someone you’ve always seen as unobtainable, a night behind a mask changes that. warnings: curse words, reader wears glasses btw! a/n: when you dive deep back into writing, you simultaneously have about 3 WIPs, this is one of them. if you see any mistakes, no you didn't Part 1 of 2

The moon cast a bright light over the depths of the forest, creating a glow in the middle of the night. The wind whispered softly, the trees feeling its limbs move with every whisper it spoke. The dirt beneath your heels sunk with every movement, your dress bunched up in your clammy palms as you desperately searched for your lover. 

“Steve?” You spoke aloud in the dark, your neck twisting every way to catch a glimpse of your lover. 

The cracking of leaves over to your left made you jump, your heart begins to race, feeling every pump of blood coursing through you as you dragged yourself closer to the sound. You peer around a tree when you see him standing there, standing tall as the moonlight cast a glow over his face. 

His jaw is set sharp, eyes as brown as honey that could see into your soul, caramel colored hair that moved gently with the wind, there he was in all his glory. His eyes meet yours and a sense of relief enters you. The corners of his lip twist into a smile, he rushes over to you, his white chemise only buttoned halfway, his dark curls from his chest peek out proudly. 

“My love” he murmurs, his large hands reach up and touch your face. He’s so much bigger than you but you feel so safe and secure in his arms. Your hands find themselves grabbing onto his forearms. 

“Steve, my love, we mustn’t see each other anymore, it’s too dangerous, I can’t risk losing you” tears of desperation prick at the corner of your eyes as you both grasp each other in such a heated moment.

“I’d rather die a thousand deaths than never see you again” he states, brushing your tears away with a swipe of his thumbs. 

“I need you to do something for me” he suddenly says, his face is much closer to yours, the tips of your nose lightly rub against his and you’re so close to tasting him, to feel his lips against yours. You close your eyes to relish in the feeling. 

“Anything Steve” you whimper. 

“I need you to wake up”

Your eyes shoot open, you stare at Steve with your eyebrow raised to the sky.

“Huh?”

“Henderson, I need you to wake up” he says again, more firmly. You remove your hands from his biceps and you pull away from him. Steve stares at you blankly as he opens his mouth again to speak but this time he sounds like … Dustin?

“WAKE UP!”

You jolt up from your bed, gasping heavily as you take in your surroundings. The dark forest is long gone, your lover Steve was just a figment of your overactive imagination. You brush a hand over your face, you check the clock, 7:15 AM, fuck. The pounding on your door continues as you try to bring yourself back to reality 

“Jesus Christ Dustin I’m up I’m up!” You scream at him.

“Eddie’s gonna be here in 10! And if you’re not ready by then then you’re on your own!” 

You groan loudly, running a hand through your messy hair.

Another dumb dream about your stupid crush on stupid Steve Harrington. 

As if he would ever look your way anyways. 

Your eyes scan across your room. Your walls are littered with medals and awards, two large bookcases on the side of your room that hold literary classics from Mary Austen, Mary Shelley, JRR Tolkien, ones that you loved to reread in your free time. A messy desk on the other side of your room with large textbooks neatly stacked next to your lamp, your finished homework laying right in the middle.

Being a Henderson in Hawkins, Indiana meant that there was a large stamp on your forehead in bold, red letters that screamed nerd. Your little brother was just as bad, if not a little worse than you. It’s how you ended up becoming best friends with the local pariah in town, Eddie Munson. He took your little brother under his wing a couple years ago after long nights of D&D campaigning at the school. To Dustin, Eddie was like an older brother he never had, and to you Eddie was like the stupid, annoying, yet loveable best friend who took your fries way too often at lunch. 

And then there was Robin, your other best friend. You had met Robin in band class after you had tried out to play the flute which you then realized that you had absolutely no music talent and quit the next semester. You and Robin however, managed to get seated next to each other and she soon become your best friend after you tossed a drumstick at Jason Carver’s head for calling Robin a slur. You saw the way she stiffened up and as tears began to pool around her eyes. 

Maybe it was because you were bullied for most of your life, but you could not stand to see others being taken down.

“Hey Carver, munch on this you fuckface” you tell him as you chucked a drumstick at his large and stupid head.

You got sent to the principal office but in return you got a best friend. You wouldn’t have changed that for the world.

You stretch your limbs, your hands reaching up to the sky, you grab your glasses on your nightstand, shoving them on your face as you jump out of bed. You quickly throw on a pair of jeans and sweater, your black converse to match. You rush into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face when you hear Eddie’s horn blast from the outside. 

You grab your homework and shove it into your backpack, racing past Dustin to grab an apple in the kitchen.

“Did your alarm break or something? I can’t keep waking you up ya know!” Dustin scolds you. You turn to face him, apple now in your mouth as you drop your bag to put on your jean jacket. You take a big bite as the apple returns to your hand,

“Sowee Dusty, won’th happenth again” you say, mouth full of apple as he walks right past you to open the door. You follow right behind him to Eddie’s van, Dustin taking shotgun while you take a seat in the back. 

“Hendersons! Good morrow to you both!” Eddie exclaims.

“Ugh Eddie you’re too happy for a Tuesday morning” you groan, still trying to wake yourself up. 

Eddie leans towards Dustin, “Jeez someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed” he whispers, albeit loudly. 

“She woke up late, I think she had another dream about Harrington”

“Ah makes sense”

“Hey!” You snap at the two boys, “I heard that and I resent that!”

“So you did dream about Harrington” Eddie states plainly, pulling the car in reverse, easing out of your driveway. 

“No!”

A pause, then a large groan. You shove your face in your hands,

“Ugh fine, yes”

“Ew, gross! I don’t know what you see in that asshole anyways” Dustin says. 

“He’s not an asshole! He’s changed I swear, he doesn’t hang out with Tommy and Carol anymore and the other day he asked me for a pencil” you state that last part proudly. 

It was true, something in Steve had changed within the last couple of months. Maybe it was his breakup with Nancy Wheeler, or maybe something else had happened to him, you weren’t sure. But what you were sure of is that he actually was starting to notice you, give you soft smiles in class, ask you more questions about assignments. He even stopped hanging with Tommy and Carol which to you felt like you were in the twilight zone for a second. This just intensified your crush even more - you just had to convince your best friends and little brother that he had changed.

“Whoa no way? He actually spoke to you? Maybe he’ll ask for your hand in marriage next”

You shove your brothers elbow, “Fuck off Dustin” you mumble, taking an angry bite out of your apple. 

“Hey, hey Hendersons, it’s far too early to be arguing in the morning. Especially over an asshole like Harrington” Eddie waves his hand

“Eddie! You’re not helping!” 

“Whaaaat? You know I hate jocks, especially ones who throw balls in basket” he shakes his head, his brown curls jumping with every movement. 

“Thank you Eddie, at least someone here has a brain” Dustin glares at you, disappointed that his genius of an older sister just has to have the hots for Steve. 

You snort, “Okay as if I’m not going to graduate top of the class this year”

“Exactly, you’re going to go off to college and he’s just going to throw balls at baskets for the rest of his life, it’s just how the universe works” Eddie says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

Before you can retort back the van comes to stop in front of Robin’s house. Eddie honks his horn, a second later Robin comes bouncing out of her house, 

“Please, please, please don’t mention anything to Robin. It’s enough having you two chastise me” you grumble at the two boys in front. 

Eddie and Dustin share a look, a look that you’ve seen before. You can’t trust them when they’re both together, they’re both turned against you too many times - always out numbering you 2 to 1. Robin opens the van door, 

“Morning guys!” She cheerily greets the three of you. She takes the seat right next to you, placing her book bag on the floor. Dustin and Eddie mumble a good morning up front. Her eyes start to shift from you, then to the boys up front. Robin has good intuition, you can’t hide anything from her. 

“Ooooh, you dreamt about Harrington again didn’t you?”

You place your head in your hands as Dustin and Eddie snicker up front, 

“Jesus fucking Christ”

— 

After waving Dustin goodbye, the three of you walk into school side by side, Eddie on your right, and Robin on your left. Everyone at Hawkins knew the three of you were attached at the hip, the outcast, the nerd, and the band geek. 

As soon as the three of you walked in however, the halls were buzzing with people, all holding pink flyers in their hands. As the three continued to walk towards your locker there were pink flyers plastered all over the walls.

Hawkins High School School Committee Presents,

A Night in Paris

Masquerade Ball

Next Saturday at 7 PM

Eddie promptly rips one off the wall, his eyes scanning over the wording. He then turns to you, his eyes have now gone wide with excitement.

“Okay you have to go to this” he urges, shoving the paper in your chest as you spin your locker combination. Robin grabs another flyer that was stuck to the locker next to yours,

“A masquerade ball? Do we actually have the budget to do that?” She comments.

You shake your head as you take the paper from Eddie, “A masquerade ball? Yeah you know I don’t do dances” you tell him, shoving the flyer back right into his hands. 

Eddie whines loudly (and dramatically) as you slam your locker shut. “B-but you can dance with Harrington! That’s the whole point of the Masquerade Ball! You’ll be all incognito” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You know Munsons got a point, if you ever wanted to chance with dingus this is your chance” Robin states as the three of you continue to walk. The bell then suddenly rings, alerting the three of you to be in first period. 

You sigh heavily, taking the paper back from Eddie. Maybe your best friends had a point, you weren’t one to go to dances, no one had ever asked you but a masquerade ball where everyone was in masks … that could be tempting.

“Think about it Henderson” Eddie says as he and Robin continue to walk down the hall. Robin gives you a small wave as they turn the corner and disappear. You enter your first period math class that you fortunately share with Steve. You shuffle your way to the back where you see Tommy and Carol sitting next to your seat. You plop right down next to them. Carol sitting on top of the desk obnoxiously chewing gum while Tommy humors her with whispers in her ear. 

They suddenly turn their attention to you, both with a scowl on their face. 

“Well if it isn’t four-eyes, I mean nerd, I mean Henderson” Carol taunts snarkily, a proud smile on her face. Tommy snickers at her comment. 

You’re used to this, hell they really need to come up with better material because you’re getting bored with the same insults. 

“Carol don’t you have any better insults or is your tiny brain not capable of computing anything new besides knowing how to suck Tommy’s dick behind the bleachers?” 

Tommy and Carol’s jaws drop - completely taken aback by your insult. She shoves Tommy violently with her elbow, “Tommy, do something!” She hisses at him.

“Listen here you bitch - “

“Hey assholes, how about you leave her alone?” A voice suddenly enters the conversation, one that sends chills down your spine. You gaze up and see your lover - uh you mean Steve taking the seat in front of you. He’s shooting daggers at Carol and Tommy as he places his books on the desk. Carol wordlessly jumps off the desk, a permanent frown on her face as she takes the seat on the other side.

Tommy too shuts right up, but not before getting one last word in, “I’ll get you for that four eyes” he whispers harshly at you, in return you just roll your eyes. 

Your eyes meet Steve’s and you give him a thin smile, mouthing to him thank you as he nods at you and takes his seat.

Class begins as usual, Mrs. Benning (or rather Ben the Hen is what they called her due to her large nature) starts class with a lecture. It starts to go smoothly until she does this thing where she picks on students who clearly aren’t paying attention. 

And for whatever reason she loves to pick on Steve. 

“Mr. Harrington, I assume you can give us the answer to number 6?” Her shrill voice echoes throughout the class. You watch as Steve stiffens in front of you, taken aback by surprise. He shifts in his seat as he pretends to flip through his textbook. 

“Uh, yeah, the answer to that is …”

Desperation claws at your lovesick heart, you decide to help the poor guy out. You bring a fist to your mouth when you then cough the answer loudly enough for him to hear,

“72!” He shouts proudly. 

However, subtly wasn’t your middle name.

Mrs. Benning narrows her eyes at you, “Miss. Henderson, I recall calling Mr. Harrington not you” she snaps.

All eyes are suddenly on you, shit, you were not good at this whole subtle thing. However Carol and Tommy put you in a sour mood and the whole masquerade ball has your head in a tizzy so your tolerance levels are at low - very low. 

“Well Mrs. Benning I don’t think it’s fair to pick on students who clearly don’t have their hands up, I mean would you like it if someone picked on you just to purposely embarrass you?”

The whole class gasps, even Steve at this point turns over and stares at you incredulously with a gaping smile. Mrs. Benning however, has fumes coming out of her hair, you swear you saw the chalk in her hand break in half.  

“I mean I’m just saying, it’s no fun either way right?” You finish politely, returning a smile at her. 

She lifts her hand and points to the door, “Principal's office, now” she orders through gritted teeth. 

You sigh loudly, grabbing your books and bag from the floor. This isn’t the first time your smart mouth has gotten you into trouble, you don’t care too much though at this point, you have bigger things to worry about. 

You head towards the door and out into the empty hallway. You’re about to make the corner turn to the office till you hear a voice yell your name,

“Henderson! Wait up!”

You freeze in your steps, that voice, it sends shivers down your spine. You turn around and see Steve running towards you, his brown hair flopping over his face as he catches up with you.

“H-hey Steve, what’s up?” you say, trying your hardest to keep it casual though your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest.

“What you did back there … That was amazing, no one has ever stood up for me before. I just wanted to say thanks.” His brown eyes gaze into yours and for a second you forget to breathe. You can count all the freckles and moles on his face, you’ve never been this close to him before. As heat begins to exude from you, your glasses begin to embarrassedly fog up - something that tends to happen when you get riled up too much.

“Oh, your glasses - here, let me” Steve reaches down towards you, his large hand rests on your face for just a second as he gently tugs your glasses off your face. You stand there, in absolute shock, your brain trying to process what had just happened. You watch as he takes your glasses and cleans it with his shirt,

“I - I sometimes wear glasses to read, it happens to me too”

“You do?” You squeak out. Your absolute prince of a man wears glasses? 

“Yeah but let’s just keep that between us, it’ll be our little secret” he winks at you as he finishes cleaning the last lens. He then turns to look at you, really look at you, without your glasses.

“Huh, you’re cute without your glasses” he casually comments. But he realizes what he said and he begins to backtrack, “I - I mean not that you’re not cute with them! It’s just that I can see your eyes more. You have pretty eyes” he concludes.

Someone needs to come and pinch you because it feels like you’re dreaming. Steve Harrington - THE Steve Harrington calling you cute? You could die. 

You continue to gaze at him as if god broke the mold when he made him. Through thick lashes you watch him, palms clammy and feet rooted to the ground.

He carefully places the glasses back onto your face, his lips curved upward into a small smile. 

“T-thank you Steve” you manage to speak out, swallowing a large lump that was stuck in your throat. 

“Hey it’s no problem - “ he pauses as his attention turns to the pink flyer that is stuck behind you. He reached towards it, grabbing it off the wall.

“You going to this?” He asks.

“Uh … yeah?” You manage to say but in your head it just sounds like jumbled words.

“Cool, maybe I’ll see you there then. Catch you later Henderson” he gives you another wink as he begins to head back to class. You watch him as he disappears back into class, but your legs are glued to the floor, your mind still reeling from the interaction you had.

Well damn, now you had to go to the masquerade ball. You were never going to hear the end of it from Eddie and Robin. 

[sorrinslays]

My Craig's gang headcanons

Craig is a mama's boy, sorry, I don't make the rules

Clyde definitely has broken at least onε 3DS in the dumbest way possible, like crying and the tears messing up with the machine or by bragging that his 3DS is indestructible, ending with Cartman sitting on it and crushing it in the process

Tolkien's favourite movie is lion king, don't ask, I have no idea why I thought of that

Jimmy reads those "how to be professionally funny" books religiously

Tweek tried a monster once and nearly had a heart attack from stress because he mentally convinced himself it's stronger than the coffee he normally drinks and his body is going to explode from all the caffeine intake

Craig and Clyde have secret hang outs that they (Clyde) named "best bros date" where they talk about their favourite things (space, dinosaurs, race cars etc.) and watch their favourite cartoons

Tolkien for Jimmy's birthday bought him a microphone so that Jimmy can have improv comedy sessions whenever and wherever he pleases

Tweek had to go throught 'trials' to join Craig's gang. Nothing serious, just normal fourth grader stuff, like having him climb the monkey bars in under fifteen seconds or something like that. Needless to say, the poor boy almost had a panic attack and jugged a whole ass pot of coffee and climbed the bars in one millisecond

Craig and Tolkien go to the bookstore once a month and get a book. It's their way of motivating one another to read more

Clyde and Jimmy once (in their late teens) got super wasted and made a youtube video where they told really bad jokes. It blew up and they woke up to a bunch of analyses video talking about how they are the next big step in making comedy better. They remember nothing and only learned what happened through Craig who found it very entertaining

Tweek accidently ate a small rock once and was freaked out for a week straight thinking he's going to die. The fourth grade ended up playing 'funeral' with everyone having different roles. Tweek was the dead guy

Whenever Craig and Jimmy are left alone unsupervised they go to Craig's basement and make videos in which they just talk for hours about the people they hate and they managed to gather a small cult following by just hating on people

Tolkien and Clyde once crashed a car

Tweek wanted to continue boxing after his and Craig's fight but was scared and nervous to enter a club alone. At some point once he becomes part of Craig's gang, he tells that to the guys and, in order to encourage him to join, all of them (-Jimmy because he's in the comedy club) join. Craig and Tolkien go for kickboxing and Clyde and Tweek go boxing

Craig is the kind of person who knows a lot of random stuff and skills that he never mentions unless it's brought up. He's like that one guy on Tik Tok who knows the bird language, the OwO language, the cat language ect. His friends never know and anytime he's like "oh yeah, I know how to speak Latin, don't worry I can talk to this demon to leave us alone," the guys are like "HUH"

Clyde has the entire Dinosaur wiki memorized

When Tolkien first joined the group he spend days researching everything he could find about the others' interests out of fear he won't be able to participate in conversations or something. After a few one on one conversations Clyde and Jimmy figured it out pretty early own because it was pretty obvious, but Craig never did and still thinks Tolkien is genuinely interested in space and Tolkien doesn't want to break the illusion so he keeps researching and talking about stars and planets and everything else for hours with Craig

Jimmy knows Portuguese, I don't know why or how but it seems like something he would do

Tweek and Clyde weren't on the best terms at first because Clyde was kinda spooked of Tweek's tics since he didn't understand them, but overtime he learned that Tweek is a pretty cool dude

Craig loves to cook and clean, it's relaxing to him because he can just go through the notions and end up being productive. His friends have tasted his cooking multiple times and love it.

The whole gang has at some point worked in both Tweak.Bros and mr Donavan's shoe store

Tolkien's place is where they usually have their sleepovers. If for whatever reason they can't go to Tolkien's, then it's Craig's basement cause his parents are pretty chill and nice. They almost never go to Tweek's because his parents freak out the gang

Jimmy once wrote his final exam high on mushrooms and got a perfect score

Tweek never got a driving license because he's too scared of cars

[archiveofthelibrarian]

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Manwion had hair of silver, which at night, reflected the starry sky yet glistened gold when Laurelin waxed. His long silver waves was adored by all, Quendi and Ainur alike, rivaled only by the gold-silver hair of Artanis which was said to have captured the very essence of the Two Trees.

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Love and Glass

Prologue

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Inspired by my conversation with @animatorweirdo as anon here.

I have conflicted feelings about this. One one hand, I love the idea and can't get it out of my head. On the other, my execution of this is questionable. So I am throwing it into the void of internet.

I tried to mimick the style in which Tolkien wrote to convey this idea's whimsical and dreamy feel in my head. Alhtough I am not sure I have succeded. Again, this is not beta read, so feel free to point out any mistakes. I

Masterpost for the fic can be found here.

DISCLAİMER: I do not own anything you recognize. This is a fanwork for entertainment purposes and should be regarded as such.

Word count: 432

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Long ago, before the rising of the Sun and the Moon, all newborn elves would be brought before the Valar so that they may receive a blessing from those who crafted Arda.

With time, there grew a great love for elflings in the hearts of the Valar. And though they all loved the elves, there was no greater love than the one Manwë and Varda bore.

Their love was so great, that they wished to love a child of their own, and though they knew it was against the vision of Eru, they set out to work.

With the help of Aulë the smith, Manwë and Varda took their love, poured it into Aulë's work, and then shaped and molded it into their desire.

Finally, a child resembling an elfling came to be from the work of the Valar. Though he looked as any elfling would, he had no free will or fire of his own.

Eru, who saw the great love Manwë and Varda bore for this creation for their's, allowed him to live and have a fire of his own.

But this wayward behavior of Manwë and Varda could not go unpunished, so he allowed the child no name of his own, save for Manwion, meaning son of Manwë, so that he may know when he is called.

Blinded by their love for the little child they would call their own, Manwë and Varda paid no mind to it.

But everyone else did.

The rest of the Valar pitied him, the Maiar shed tears him and the Quendi looked at him oddly, for the Quendi valued their names above all their possessions.

But Manwion understood none of this, for he was a being of innocence and wonder. He could not understand any darkness or malice.

But that did not matter in a world pure and untainted.

What none of the dwellers of Aman, save for Fëanáro, understood was that nothing in this world could last forever.

Soon, Melkor was released from the Halls after his three ages long imprisonment and he started his plan for revenge.

No one noticed as he sowed lies and discord among the Noldor. No one until he stole the holy light and the precious prince.

Melkor, who was renamed into Morgoth, destroyed the Two Trees with the help of the spider Ungoliant and kidnapped Manwion.

As the Valar and the Vanyar wept for their loss, the Noldor took action. With their spirits ignited by Fëanáro's passionate speech, they started their journey to the eastern lands of Beleriand.

The dead bodies of the Trees stand in Ezellohar still but no one knows what happened to their joyful, pure prince Manwion.

Not even the Dark Lord himself.

[lost-walmartbag]

PT2 Of prom with clyde please omg I literally sat down to read it whilst listening to You belong with me by taylor swift and I CANT NOT SOB OVER HOW GOOD IT WAS WRITTEN

Warning: Swearing

Background: After you two kiss you and Clyde have a conversation about where to go after this

Status: Request Open

Previous part

Next part

Clyde x Reader prom pt. 2

As you and Clyde sat outside in the cold night air away from all the music and dancing inside. Clyde took off his blazer and draped it over your shoulders and drop your head to his shoulder. You two sat there enjoying each other's presence.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you how pretty you looked today." He whispered looking forward, watching the occasional car pass

"It's ok." You whispered scooting closer to him your shoulders now touching.

"Is it? I made you cry. Your makeup is ruined and I did that." He said looking down at you and wiping away some of your still-wet tears.

"No, I just get stupid when I drink. I...I'm sorry I yelled at you inside." You say looking up at him as he wiped off your tears.

"Well, it was more of a loud whisper." He joked making you laugh softly. "There she is."

"I'm sorry I ruined the night." You said softly.

"No, it's my fault." He said with a sigh. "I should have gotten over Bebe and enjoyed the time I had with you."

"I get it. You've been with her since we were kids I guess it was kinda dumb to think you'd feel the same for me after a week of fake dating."

"I liked you before that. I know you didn't like me until we started 'dating'." He said looking down at his feet with a smile.

"I just couldn't feel that way for you while you were with Bebe but honestly I think I always kinda did." You said leaning your head on his shoulder again.

"Do you really want to be with me? I'm kinda not much." He said with a chuckle but tears fall down his cheeks.

"I like you Clyde I like how you act all romantic and how you say dumb shit." You say making him chuckle. You gently wipe away his tears which only made him cry more. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I've never had anyone do this for me." He said looking over at you as you wipe his tears. "I'm sorry I'm such a crybaby."

"You have a big heart it's only natural." You whispered kissing his forehead softly.

"I don't deserve this I don't deserve you." He said hugging you and burying his face in your shoulder.

"Clyde you deserve to be loved and cared for. I want to be that for you." You whisper, rubbing his back.

He pulls back and laughs softly, feeling silly for crying. "I'm sorry I don't know why I'm crying."

"Its ok." You said holding his hand. "So where do you wanna go from here?"

"I want to be with you. Like actually not just for some stupid plan. Just with you." He said looking down at you

"I'd like that. Like I'd really like that." You said with a small smile.

He smiled and pulled you closer kissing you softly which you gladly kissed back. Craig, Tweek, Jimmy, and Tolkien stepped out to come looking for you two and stared at the scene in front of them.

"Woah wasn't expecting that." Tolkien said with a frown and pulling out his wallet.

"Yeah yeah pay up." Craig said holding his hand out where Tolkien placed fifty dollars.

"K-knew you believed in them." Tweek said with a smirk and pinching Craig's cheek making him roll his eyes.

"S-should w-we tell them to co-co-come inside?" Jimmy asked the guys, keeping his voice low to not disturb you and Clyde as you guys kissed.

"Hey, lovebirds, last dance is coming up!" Tolkien shouted making you two pull away with a small laugh.

"We're coming." You say standing up and dusting off your dress and extending your hand to Clyde who gladly took it and walked back inside with you.

As your group walked back in laughing and talking, you noticed the party was still very much alive. As you made your way on stage Bebe walked up to you and Clyde. You felt nervous but she didn't seem angry.

"You left this." She said, handing Clyde his crown which he took with shaky hands.

"T-thank you Bebe." He said putting the crown on.

"Here you should have this. Doesn't feel right having it." She said handing you the crown from her head. "I'm happy for you both."

You took the crown and looked up at her smiling softly. She gave a simple nod and walked off, leaving you in Clyde there is shock.

"I didn't expect that from her." You whispered looking up at Clyde.

"I didn't either but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me happy. Shall we my queen?" He asked leading you to the dance floor.

You followed him dancing for the rest of the songs. While it was a rough start, it was nice being this close to him. It felt right being in his arms, being able to finally stop being his fake girlfriend. And while you didn't need it, having Bebe's blessing made it easier for you two to finally make this stupid plan into a not so stupid relationship.

A/N: Again thank you so much to the person who asked this I love you so much and I hope you liked this and whoever asked this if you reading this lemme know what song you listening to this time 🩷🩷 Anyway as always if you want me to write something plz ask and it will be pumped out on Sundays in the order in which I get them🩷🩷 Love you all thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

3, 9, 10, and 49 for Grima?

Two Grima anons!! Because you all are amazing and know me and the way to my heart

3. Obscure headcanon

Honestly, I feel like I've talked enough about Grima that all my headcanons have been exhausted in the "Grima Thoughts" tag and the "Grima Wormtongue" tag more broadly on my tumblr.

I suppose one that I've never voice too much, and haven't played with (YET. GET READY.**) is that I headcanon him as distinctly Not Cis but he's very convoluted and vague about what that means. The whole seidr aspect I read onto him adds different layers to how you can interpret that, especially given some views that seidr-working might have been viewed as an alternative gender, or an additional aspect to gender, or something in that ballpark of being different from man and woman.

I just enjoy that, aside from Eowyn, he is one of the characters you can make the strongest argument for being Outside the Gender Norms of Their Respective Society. This makes me very pleased and happy.

Grima just wants to be queen. Let him be one!!

--

**this only applies to people reading What Makes a King

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

For the movies it was the tear-drop scene in TTT after Saruman sends the uruk-hai off to Helms Deep. So much regret and realization of the scope of the impact of his actions captured in a single emotional moment. And it's fleeting! But so well done. No words are needed. Just dawning horror and that stomach-dropping-out-from-your-body feeling of What The Fuck Have I Done - This Was Not How It Was Supposed To Go.

In the books it's 100% when Grima is sassing back at Treebeard. He is Peak Drowned Rat and a GIANT TREE is telling him: You need to go to Orthanc. It's voer there.

And Grima. Who has been on a horse for two days straight, riding through the night, and probbaly hasn't eaten in 48h, and is now stinking soaking wet becuase Treebeard dropped him in the muck and mire of the waters around Orthanc. That man. That man looks at the Giant Tree, the stuff of childhood legends in Rohan, and his instinctual reaction is to be the sassiest most lie-filled bitch on the planet.

What the fuck Grima.

Grima: Well, since you don't think I was here on behalf of Theoden which was My Quickly Thought Up Plan Because I DID NOT Expect This. I will now just be super sassy at you as my fall back. Seems reasonable.

Tree Beard: ????

Love that deranged bastard so much.

Grima: [sees a being way, way more powerful than him. Gandalf, Treebeard, whatever] What if I just said some sick burns and was a petty bitch for fifteen minutes??

Eomer: . .... ..,, , as a treat?

Grima: As a treat!!

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

I loved his seduction scene in the film. That whole speech is masterfully rendered by Brad Dourif and Miranda Otto is also fantastic in that scene. Seeing her tempted, truly tempted, then pulling back like: nope, nope, nope, I can't. Grima's face when she leaves. Absolutely phenomenal.

I also love the "These Men Don't Know What Personal Space Is" scene with Eomer.

Nothing to see here. Move along everyone.

In the book, the best scene is everything in the Scouring of Shire. The wanting to take Frodo's offer of a helping hand. The desperation for that salvation from himself and the situation he is in - yet, he is so trapped in whatever it is he feels for Saruman. That quasi-enslaved state by the time we get to the end of ROTK. It's so fucked up and such a fantastic representation of the push/pull of abusive situations. I want out/I can't leave/I can see a future/I can't see a future. So well done.

(And I think Saruman-Grima dynamic is something Tolkien didn't know he had - at least in terms of the potential that is in it.)

While I have gone on before about Grima's death being a let-down in terms of thematic satisfaction, I do love, love, love that he gets to kill Saruman. He gets to put the knife in Saruman's back. That is so fantastic as a full circle of all the traitors betraying each other. ALSO, of course, Grima gets to kill the man who has spent the last eleven months torturing him for shits and giggles. We love to see it.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

I think Grima is very afraid to look at a lot of things about himself. He cannot look into the mirror straight-on. All truths about himself have to be captured in peripheral vision - which is to say, only ever faintly brushed against.

I don't know what the darkest secret is that he can't admit to himself. I suspect, for him, it's several. He's done so much harm in his life, and he's been also denied so much too, and wants so much, and has broken so much - it's all a tangled mess.

I think for Grima, what drives a lot of his actions post-Helm's Deep is a two-fold sunk-cost fallacy (that's the thing he can't admit to himself - it's not all lost. He can and should walk away. "If it's shit, hit the bricks" was not something he ever learned) and the inability to be able to see a life outside of Saruman. A path away from Orthanc. (Granted, no one was being helpful in that regard until Frodo. Literally no one. Not in any meaningful capacity.)

24. Most annoying habit

Maybe stop stealing things from people?

Probably, though, the sycophancy. The whole "oh my lord" this and "a wise/brilliant thing you said my lord" that. Ugh. Miss me with the verbal dick-sucking there, Grima.

I get why he does it. I 100% understand. I still find it grating. This is something, I will say, that turns up in fanfics more than canon. I've written it, myself, because it works for his character! It's what he would do! It makes sense post-Saruman that he would be like this! If he wasn't it would be weird! But my god Grima, get a spine and a sense of self-worth!

(Grima: shall not.)

For proper canon things, we don't really see enough of him to have specific habits to pick on. Because frankly, I find his thieving delightful and funny, if not a little whimsical. In fact, he should do more. Steal more things! Steal more things!

(Grima: Shall!!! Right now!!)

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Scathing commentary on people he hates. This man is a gossip and a first-class professional Bitcher. He can bitch with the best of them. Hearing dirty things about people makes him so happy.

Also, I think he likes word play and clever jokes. Riddling games and the like, especially ones that are terribly, terribly clever are near-guaranteed to make him smile.

I don't know that he laughs all that much. I think he does that snort/exhale as a form of "laughing" but I don't think he does full on laughing. Save very rarely, and I think it's a shockingly warm sound for someone who is a walking glacier in many respects.

49. Favorite toy as a child

Oh gods. This is hands down the toughest question. If only becuase I have only ever envisioned Grima's childhood as fairly toyless. But he would have had toys - even in the bleakest versions he would have had toys.

I can see little Grima, as a four/five/six year old, being partial to a small, carved cow. He likes the gentle eyes and is familiar with cattle and they smell like home. I can see him also having a small wagon as a boy and he would go out to a small copse and pretend to be a runaway who has joined up with a band of robbers or highway men. In the wagon he'd pack food and water and such, also his bow and a small knife.

Practicing a quick get-away since he was eight.

----

Thank you both so much! <3 <3 <3 This got long but 0 regrets. Grima deserves it.

[griseldabanks]

🥐, 🦋, 🐚, 🪲, 🎨 , and 🧩, please?

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

Like a meme? This one usually earns a chuckle from me:

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

I spend so much of my time trying to escape the real world. I always have. I love stories that I can dive headfirst into and forget the world around me, live vicariously through the lives of people who live in worlds of magic and adventure, so at least for a short time, I don't have to worry about my own problems. But maybe sometimes it's better for me to not try to escape this world. I wholeheartedly agree with and love Tolkien's sentiment about escapism, and how it's understandable to want to think about something beyond the iron bars of our prison. But Tolkien also clearly loved the world he lived in, and paid attention to its beauty. Sometimes I feel like I need to do a lot more of that. There is some good in this world, and it's worth paying attention to. After all, this is the world God gave us.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

I mean, I think I speak for most people when I say I like pleasant surprises but dislike unpleasant ones XD Also, I particularly like the anticipation when someone's like, "I have a surprise for you," so you know a surprise is coming, but you don't know what it is yet. I like to anticipate my surprises :P

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Okay, this paragraph is 58 words, but here:

In the hotel room, Hawkeye sat with Addie on the couch, a comforting hand on Addie's spiked shoulder. Addie's face was in her enormous hands, and Roy was certain that, if it were possible, her face would be a mess of tears. When the door opened, she quickly straightened, then wilted again when she saw who they were.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

Just one?! Out of every single fandom I could choose??? Impossible! But here, this is quite possibly my favorite fanart of Kaladin Stormblessed and Sylphrena, by @ayhotte

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Any kind of smut or pairings I don't like, I guess, though usually that only happens if it's not tagged properly. What will probably make me click away even faster, since nobody tags for this, will be a huge block of text with no breaks, or dialogue that isn't formatted correctly so you can't tell who's saying what.

Writer's Truth or Dare Ask Game

[runawaymun]

Hi so I just binged your fics and adore them, I love “kids get sane adults and overcome trauma and feel safe” fics

And I was wondering if it was inspired by any other fics you could recommend? Especially Tolkien

aaa I'm so glad you like them! thank you!

The adoptive family trope is a trope that is incredibly near and dear to my heart and weirdly underexplored in the LOTR fandom tbqh. You'd think there would be more of it. I get this question a lot and unfortunately I must repeat that my toxic trait is that I am incredibly picky when it comes to the fics I read, and that And the Stars Shine the Same was actually started in a blind rage after scouring the internet for anything like it, and finding that most of them over-simplified the healing process or grossly mischaracterized Elrond OR turned out to be romantic in the end (but like not in a good way). So unfortunately I have very few fics I can recommend.

In terms of well-written fic that you might like if you like my work, as always, I recommend pretty much anything @jaz-the-bard has written when it comes to Elrond & kidnap fam adjacent material (and just...good fic...in general...hngg). @potatoobsessed999 (potatoesanddreams on AO3) has some really lovely genfic, and I literally cannot recommend @idrilsscribe's Under Strange Stars series enough. The Ever-Fixed Star series is an incredible set of Elrond-adjacent (but mostly Feanorian-centric) fics by @eirianerisdar that deal with themes of forgiveness, family, redemption, and healing and they remain just about some of my favorite fics of all time <3 I also will continue to endlessly rec @thatfeanorian's All the Ways to Love which is not gen, but does include just really excellent Russingon slowburn trauma recovery re: Feanor is The Worst Dad Ever and Maedhros' self-esteem is a dumpster fire, and Fingon is Best Boy (of course!).

For other fandoms I recently blitzed through I've Been Holding Back Tears (While You're Throwing Back Beers) by im_your_mom_now which is just unabashed Peter Parker AU whump with Tony being a very worried and concerned adult (trying to be a worried and concerned adoptive dad but of course it's Tony and he's emotionally constipated so he's not going to outright admit that he feels like Peter is his son which is just CHEFS KISS) It's actually incredibly well written -- like I don't normally go for Marvel anything but I just couldn't resist. It hit all my sweet spots for me and I really am a softie for Dad!Tony with Peter. <3 It's incredibly anti aunt-May though, fair warning.

Yeah that's mostly what I have for you! If any of my followers wants to chime in -- as always drop your recs on this post for anon :)

[tar-thelien]

Rewrote chapter 3 of child!Melkor and Elrond trying to be a better dad than Eru :)

Summary:

Melkor gets a dragon plus and Celebrían gets a laugh

Words: 632

"I want a dragon!" Melkor suddenly declared a day they were again sitting on a balcony. Melkor drawing and Elrond looking through documents.

"A dragon, like a living one?"

“Yes! And if I can’t get a dragon, I want a snake!”

"I doubt you'll be granted permission to get a dragon... perhaps a snake could be a more realistic option?" Melkor simply let out a disapproving grunt in response to Elrond´s suggestion.

"Do you have any family?" he inquired a little later, seeking to delve into the personal aspects of the healer's life perhaps.

“Yes, I intend to visit them tomorrow, and I plan to stay for a duration of two days."

Melkor expressed his emotions with a bewildered "why!?" before composing himself swiftly and resuming his sketching, this time on the table instead of his paper. Elrond was convinced that he saw a solitary tear welling up in the eyes of the dark lord´s eye.

-

"Tell me Melda, how is he?

"Melkor?" Elrond asked as he found himself in the lone presence of his wife

"He isn´t as I had accepted I much admit. Upon informing him of my coming departure, I would swear, if I didn´t know the danger of it, a tinge of hurt flashed across his face," he told Celebrían with a brief laugh and a quick stern look when mentioning the swearing, "he exhibits a remarkable combination of creativity and compassion! For bugs that is. Just bugs and any form of reptiles."

With a tinge of amusement in his voice, he chuckled softly, remarking, “he believes he appears quite formidable and intimidating, almost akin to a small dog. And lo! His heart desires a formidable dragon companion.”

“A dragon!”

“Yes. And if he couldn’t get one, as he wanted a snake he said!”

Celebrían laughed as she tried to picture the being her husband had just described and responded with a laugh, "I suppose it becomes quite challenging to harbor any hatred towards such a character."

-

"Love?" shouted Celebrian after Elrond as he mounted his horse to ride away towards Taniquetil.

"Stop for a moment! Look, behold the formidable dragon!" she exclaimed with a breathless laugh as she presented him with a soft and cuddly blue dragon plush. 

Elrond's face lit up with a gentle smile at the remark, expressing his joy, "he will surely be delighted!" he exclaimed warmly, bending down to tenderly place a kiss on her forehead before taking the formidable dragon and continuing his journey towards that of the Eldar King and the dark Lord.

-

"Melkor?" Elrond asked looking around the cozy Vala´s room as he set the plush toy gently on the table before calling out again, "Melkor, where ever are you hiding?" 

After a period had gone, he eventually discovered the small Vala perched by the window gazing at the sky while softly vocalizing a melodious tune.

Curiously, he questioned, "Melkor?" escaped his lips, prompting a piercing gaze from the dark lord, "what are you doing?"

"Speaking," he uttered curtly before resuming his humming once more.

Elrond retraced his steps to retrieve the dragon plush toy and with a calm demeanor, declared, "I have an unexpected surprise for you," enunciating each word clearly, to make sure to hold Melkor's attention as he glanced in Elrond's direction.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, he presented the plush dragon to Melkor, whose face immediately lit up with a beaming smile as he accepted it with great enthusiasm, consisting of mostly jumps, “IT´S A DRAGON!!!”

“It´s a gift from my wife she spent the whole time I was away on it,” Elrond explained, “what will you call it?”

“Haldamir!” then quieter, “thank you to your wife then,” he said and hugged Haldamir as he took off running away for only where Eru knew.

Haldamir means Hidden Jewel and I just think it´s such a Melkor codded name - and a bit Mairon too…

[spider-lily-droplets]

WARNING: muse has traumatic past with miscarriage-related and cheating abusive ex-partner

Follow From: @eunoiaastralwings

Other RP Blogs:

Tolkien - @luthriel-tinuviel | @quiet-flower-wonderlings | @illicit-unknown-shadows | @son-of-the-moon-and-sun | @tears-of-burden

Non-Tolkien: @shadow-hazehuntress

Feel free to reach out – with an idea of your own - RULES

Beautiful aesthetics by @edensrose

FICS/HEADCANONS:

Artworks: Miguel x Alora

INTRODUCTION

NAME: Alora Matei

NICKNAMES: Lor, Ali, Rosie, Red

GENDER: Female

BIRTH DATE: November 29

BIRTHPLACE: Ukraine

ETHNICITY: born half Ukrainian, half Romanian.

APPEARANCE

FACECLAIM: ( x ) , ( x ) , ( x )

HEIGHT: 5’4

BUILD: Lean, Lithe, athletic

RACE/ETHNICITY: half Ukrainian, half Romanian.

EYE SHAPE: heart

EYE COLOR: green-blue

HAIR COLOR: dark red - long and wavy.

HAIR STYLE: freely left down most of the time, otherwise in a messy stylish bun

DISTINGUISHING MARKS/FEATURE: her dark red hair

SKIN: fair, slightly sensitive, lightly freckled

HANDS: small, slim fingers, squoval nails

SCARS: One on her torso.

TYPES OF CLOTHES: classy lean styled clothes with color that match her hair.

MANNERISMS: Softy spoken. Clicks her tongue when thinking or bites her lip. Motherly nature. Gives advice. Nervous to speak about herself - traumatic past.

ABOUT

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual, Demisexual

Canon Love Interest: Miguel OHara

RP Love Interests:

LIKES: books, flowers, planting, cooking and crafting. Being spiderwoman

DISLIKES: immorality, lying, cheating, abuse.

FEARS: Her ex-fiancé did give her trauma.

LITERATURE: Mysteries, paranormal.

MOST PRIZED TREASURE: The list of names who had chosen for her potential baby. . .

FAVORTIE COLOR AND WHY: Red because while it stands for danger, it also does mean love

FAVORED EXPLETIVES: For fuck's sake. . .

HOBBIES: drawing, crafting, planting.

FAVORITE MEMORY: Her unborn baby

WORST MEMORY: her miscarriage and cheating ex-fiancé who who pushed her down the stairs after she confronted him (pre-spiderwoman powered).

TYPE OF PERSONALITY: Motherly nature to everyone around her. Gives advice. Nervous to speak about herself - traumatic past.

PERSONAL TRIGGERS: reminders of her past

WHAT ARE PHRASES OR WORDS THEY OVER USE: Oh, for fuck's sake, If only. . . , Oh my days. . .

ARE THEY OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC: Pessimistic when comes to herself, but tries to optimistic for others

HOW DO THEY DISPLAY AFFECTION: Words of affirmation, acts of service - and physical touch (when a romantic relationship).

STRONGEST CHARACTER TRAIT: Compassion, fair.

WEAKEST CHARACTER TRAIT: Poor self-esteem.

GREATEST FEAR: Losing yet another loved one.

WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER AN OVERRATED VIRTUE: Solemnity and temperance.

Smell: she prefers to wear perfume that smells like vanilla and roses/tagetes.

EXTRA NOTES

Alora was born to an Ukrainian mother and a Romanian father. She fell for a Romanian man herself too - named Sébastián. They were high school sweethearts - who got engaged young.

She was 23 when she realized she was pregnant - they were delighted. But then - she soon realized her fiancé was a lying and cheating man. Alora had confronted him about his cheated - he had gotten angry with her - blaming her for his infidelity and pushed her down the stairs. She had collapsed due to the fall and later waking up in hospital. She discovers of her miscarriage and it of course greatly affects her.

It was 3 months later the incident - she gained became spiderwoman after she was bit my mutant spider (we all know how the story goes). It was during one of those days -she was met with an anomaly and meets the spider society.

The first time she even meets Miguel - who saved her from a fatal fall that day. They have a friends frenemies to lovers type of story. Miguel is the only one that knows of her traumatic past - she only ever opened up to him knowing his past with the daughter he lost in an another universe.

She helped Miles escapes - causing Miguel to be very angry with her and they had broken up by the end of it, and she joined Gwen's teams.

[meadowlarkx]

Explore my bookshelf!

Tagged by @searchingforserendipity25 @jouissants and @swanmaids! Thank you so much 💕💕

An estimate of how many physical books I own: I really have no idea especially because they're not all in one place right now. Maybe 200-300? Hmm. A lot (to me)

Favorite author: Tolkien right now? Ursula Le Guin? I really like Sarah Waters and as a wee lass I really adored Patrick Rothfuss. Umm. I realize I usually tend to pick stuff to read from individual authors based on their premise instead of going through an author's repertoire. Sorry, authors. But it's genuinely hard for me to pick a favorite since they all strike different notes! Fandom writers I've known past and present also loom large here for me.

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: Hmm maybe The Locked Tomb? The vibes just seem too ironic for me. But I might still read it sometime, it just hasn't grabbed me yet. Probably also Discworld. Sorry to everyone.

A popular book I thought was just meh: The Song of Achilles... Whoops. Anyway, I found some aspects of the writing style lovely, but as a story and a retelling it majorly fell flat for me.

Longest book I own: Les Misérables probably, or one of the big compiled editions of Shakespeare or Austen

Longest series I own all the books to: Hmm, I think A Song of Ice and Fire from my fan days in high school—but kinda by accident (I'd already read the last books on ebook when I was gifted them). Still surprises me to think I do actually own all of those tomes in hard copy

Prettiest book I own: Mariana and the Merchild... yes it's a children's picture book. And you've almost certainly heard me bring it up sometime. Lesbian-coded child-rearing of my heart. Look at the pictures!

A book or series I wish more people knew about: As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann—imagine a fictional microhistory that's also a darkly painted yet tender and gripping gay romance that's also about utopian experiments and the English Civil War. When Fox is a Thousand by Larissa Lai—this book is a dream, a messy and confusing dream, but I recommend it to everyone ever! Chinese folklore and mythology, queer and sapphic-ness, through time and space from ancient China to modern-day immigrant communities in Canada—so touching and really beautiful. Many moments from this one still stick in my brain.

Series: The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud—OK, it's been a while since I read this in full, and I just said I don't always like irony and these books are crammed full of silly little jokes and targeted towards a younger audience, BUT just thinking about them makes me tear up with emotion. Ages-old wry shapeshifting djinni, snotty-kid-becomes-politician, and hardened girl from the underclass navigate an alternate magical-spirits-powered British imperialism. It's queer and incisive TO ME.

Nonfiction: A Biography of No Place by Kate Brown, about borderland villages in Soviet Ukraine and the drastic changes in structures/social organization and identities that occurred from 1920-1950. Poorly said but I just think the perspective this book takes is unique and insightful and empathic and everyone should read it.

Book I'm reading now: The Bandit Queens and Lays of Beleriand. In theory I'm reading them hell yeahhh

Book that's been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven't got around to it: Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino and The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison. I checked both of these out to read over the summer and renewed them like 3 times and did I read them... no I did not. Also a bunch more are on the TBR but you know how it is

Do you have any books in a language other than English: La Reine Margot in French is the one I tried seriously to read in recent times, but I have some others in French and Spanish, mostly from high school. 1 in Czech (a copy of With Fire and Sword I have from @sparklingdali for the pictures ❤️). Polish With Fire and Sword & The Deluge pdfs & a couple of physical books ambitiously in Polish, emphasis on the ambition part.

Paperback, hardcover, or ebook? Ideally I check out whatever version the library has. I prefer physical copies and I guess paperbacks, but I'll do ebooks if I have to! At this point I try to only actually buy (hopefully secondhand) books I think I'm really going to want to keep, because I already have too many to move with

Tagging @themelodyofsilence @nibi-nix @tuulikki @sparklingdali @bachaboska if you'd like to do this, and anyone else who hasn't done it yet!