Level 1: Getting mad at a fanfic for misrepresenting your favourite character’s canon personality and motivations.
Level 2: Getting mad at a fanfic for declining to subscribe to a particular interpretation of your favourite character’s personality and motivations that isn’t explicitly present in canon, but is a totally obvious extrapolation.
Level 3: Getting mad at a fanfic because the author’s headcanons about your favourite character contradict your own, clearly superior headcanons.
Level 4: Getting mad at a fanfic because its wildly divergent AU version of your favourite character differs from the fully realised notion of what that character ought to look like in this AU that you spontaneously developed in the 300-word span between the introduction of the AU’s premise and their first appearance.
Level 5: Getting mad at a fanfic for getting your favourite character so incredibly wrong, before remembering that the character in question has no discernible personality or motivations in canon and everything the ‘fic got “wrong” is just stuff you made up in your head to fill the howling void.
You might be a ride or die friend but are you as ride or die as Merry Brandybuck who found out about the Ring before Frodo even left the Shire and planned out their journey without Frodo even knowing, showing up with supplies and ponies and ready to go on a quest with evil ghost men pursuing them? Doubt it.
moss is just natural carpet that grows over everything and that’s so sexy
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Brothers.
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Melkor: @shedramoontauren
Manwe: me
photographer: Sebastian Schräder
OMG, these cosplays are amazing! ö
Anne Hathaway, Audra McDonald and Raul Esparza in “Twelfth Night”
#rbing this feels like rbing like. the mona lisa. like its just too iconic
Auntie Hella checking on the Papillon puppies… she never had a litter of her own so she always cared for all the pups born here at #tantezampekennel
the Gentle Alien is eager to take on the role of guardian to a brood of larval butterfly fluffs
When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though he hides a sword among them. And when he speaks to you, believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams. Love will crown and crucify you. Love for your growth so he is for your pruning. Love will caresses your tenderest branches and shake every clinging root. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes and sifts you he grinds until he kneads you and then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you, that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment. A fragment of Life’s heart. Now if in your fear you seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, better cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor. Into a seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all your laughter. And weep, and weep but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is enough. You should say, “I am in the heart of God.“ You cannot direct the course of love. For love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. To wake at dawn with a winged heart, to come home in the evening with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise on your lips.
The prophet (2014)
you: saint sebastian
me, an intellectual: celebrimbor
ephal ephalak idon hi-akallabeth 