medieval backstreet boys: you are… my friar
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@poedamerameron
medieval backstreet boys: you are… my friar
this comment under a bookstore video of all the first editions of the hobbit they have… i’m going to start crying
Kill yourself
goodbye cruel beautiful lovely (flat) world
can somebody close the door i can't reach it
Imagine being a tuna (Atlantic bluefin, Thunnus thynnus). You are a super predator, over six feet long and almost a ton. You are as beautiful and shiny and mercilessly efficient as a sports car, a true marvel of the sea. But you taste so fucking good
Anthony Bourdain (sexiest thing you can do on a date)...
“...you learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together. If your date makes the experience uptight and restrictive, well, the sex is going to be horrible too. ...I don't have much patience for people who are self-conscious about the act of eating, and it irritates me when someone denies themselves the pleasure of a bloody hunk of steak or a pungent French cheese because of some outdated nonsense about what's appropriate or attractive. Stop worrying about how your breath's going to smell, whether there's beurre blanc on your face, or whether ordering the braised pork belly will make you look fat. Eating with abandon couldn't be more of a turn-on: it shows that you're comfortable with yourself.
A perfect date is with a person who eats without fear, prejudice, or concerns about his or her appearance. I remember one of my first dates with my wife (Ottavia): She ordered a six-pound lobster. I sat there, enraptured, watching her suck every bit of meat from it—she got a standing ovation from the floor staff. She's the kind of woman who will order filet mignon as an appetizer followed by a T-bone steak. Her fearless, open-minded approach to food is completely alluring. For a dinner date, I eat light all day to save room, then I go all in: I choose this meal and this order, and I choose you, the person across from me, to share it with. There's a beautiful intimacy in a meal like that. It's about exploration and taste. And kissing after dinner. And maybe there's a little wine and curry on your breath... and that's nice.”
The purest expression of Love in Tolkien’s works is following
Sam follows Frodo into Mordor. Arwen chooses to follow Aragorn’s fate instead of the one she was born to. Amroth will not leave Middle-earth when Nimrodel cannot follow. Sam, Merry, and Pippin will not let Frodo leave the Shire alone. Beren and Lúthien follow each other into the darkest places in the world, or rather Beren goes, alone, repeatedly, and Lúthien pursues him with the same fervor that he once used to pursue her.
Tom Bombadil follows the river to find Goldberry and once he finds her he’s always following the path home to her; the only paths in the Old Forest that are dependable and constant are the ones that lead to his home and to Goldberry’s pool. “I have my house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting,” for him to follow her home at last.
Gimli follows Legolas and Galadriel into the West, and bears a love so powerful that he is the one exception to the rule; he bore no ring and yet is welcomed for the sake of his love for them. Sam swears to return to where he thinks Frodo died after the duty is done, but in that moment, the hardest thing is not the weight of the Ring or the fear of Sauron, but the burden of leaving him. Éowyn and Faramir stand together on the walls of Minas Tirith as they wait for the end. The Three Hunters push themselves to near impossible feats of endurance pursuing their friends when they are in danger. The ents constantly followed the entwives to their gardens, even though they didn’t care for them much, and the story goes that one day they will follow them and find “a land where both our hearts may rest”, a place where they can both be happy.
They go only because they would not be parted from thee – because they love thee, Éowyn whispers.
You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin – to the bitter end…. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word, Merry scolds.
Don’t go where I can’t follow, Sam weeps.
are you ready for tonight's longing and grieving session
every time i start to feel cringe for being too deep in the hyperfixation i remember the intense depression i have waded through and have to remind myself that enjoyment is fleeting (so grab it with both hands), and life is for loving (so hold that love close), and if anyone thinks i’m cringe they must not be having a very good time (and i hope they can find a good time soon).
Absolutely insane lines to just drop in the middle of an academic text btw. Feeling so normal about this.
[ A Critical History of English Literature, Vol. 1, Prof. David Daiches, first published in 1960 ]
i never feel closer to my ancestors than when i start having visions of scary faces while i'm trying to get to sleep. i just know in my heart that grug the mammoth hunter and edward the 18th century dandy also saw the skull.
i feel like a trembling little mouse with a sword
i said 'explain physics to me like youre in love with me' and after a while of quiet he went 'everything sings'. so i get it now
i will not lie, friends in my phone, i have been imagining affection from time to time
can we pretend the ripples in the park lake are like swimming trout........ i could really use a fish right now, fish right now, fish right now.......
girlies what do y'all do when you're crushing on someone
the lord of the rings is so honest. so raw. so sincere. so unabashedly from the heart. no snide fourth wall jokes, no attempts to alleviate the heaviness. it is is wholeheartedly earnest in its dedication to portraying hope and love and faith and loyalty and courage, and that is what makes it feel like home to so many of us. it's true to itself. it doesn't pretend to be cool and care less. it cares, a lot, and that is a rare, beautiful thing. it warms our hearts to care for a piece of fiction that was made to care about and be cared about