#and stuff.

[speakingofstones]

okay whatever . i think that if you takeany kind of mcyt and only focus in on the shipping aspects and stuff then you irk me

[humblyhobbit]

hello!!! here’s a character in my story; Clover Fairen!!

he’s the lighthouse keeper, and ensures that a certain character’s mercenary guild doesn’t get in trouble by the local authorities :)

(i will have the oc introduction list for fairwood meadows up soon. i promise >:3)

[moved-mattjacksonybs]

----

[warriorteam1924]

The whole cast : ....

Joe : Do you want to see a magic trick?

the whole cast : ....

Joe : Okay.... (Takes Gwil's wig from Borhaps, putting it on and off Gwil's head.) Gwilym.... Brian.... Gwilym.... Brian .... Gwilym....

Gwilym, annoyed : I've got a magic trick too.

Joe : Show me !!

Gwilym : Abracadabra !!

Joe, waiting for something to happen.... : ....?

Gwilym, smiling : Did you see that?

Joe : Nope.

Gwilym : You've been quiet for a whole second.

Rami and Ben, applauding : WOW !! Mazzlee Week Day 4 : Magic Tricks 💖💜

[kychchc]

‘kay, time to go whud.

[altarfated]

hi,  take shouto 2 the planetarium to see the stars,  thank u 

[cycas]

A Maglor in Lindon snippet

Yet not all the Eldalie were willing to forsake the Hither Lands where they had long suffered and long dwelt; and some lingered many an age in the West and North, and especially in the western isles and in the Land of Leithien. And among these were Maglor, as hath been told; and with him for a while was Elrond Halfelven, who chose, as was granted to him, to be among the Elf-kindred. -  History of Middle-earth V

There were many Elves working on raising the buildings, and others painting them with bright colours and decorating them with fine carvings.  They were singing joyfully as they worked, but many of them fell silent as they saw Maglor pass, watching him with solemn faces and watchful eyes.

“They’ll get used to you,” Arachon said, seeing Maglor glance sideways at them.  He was a younger man than Halfdan, with a bristling yellow beard and a ready smile.

“It doesn’t concern you, what I did?” Maglor asked.  It might have been wiser not to mention it, and yet he could not resist asking, like poking at a half-healed scar.  The Men of Elrond’s company were, presumably, descended from the survivors of the Havens of Sirion.

“I’m no Elf,” Arachon said, with a smile that was a little rueful as they made their way into a wide paved square with a small grove of young birch-trees planted in the middle. “I have no time to waste worrying about what happened years before I was born. Elrond says it was all an Enemy plot of some kind, and he should know.  I’ll spend my time enjoying the peace instead of brooding, and give thanks that I was born in time for it.”

Maglor nodded and followed him on across the square. “Are you going to the Land of Gift with Elros, when the ships set off? I think Elrond said that Halfdan had chosen not to.”

“My beard is already white, and the ships are not yet ready,” Halfdan said and shrugged. “By the time they set off to follow the star into the west, I shall be old and tired, if I am spared to see it. Elenna is for the young.”

Arachon shook his head, sending pale braids flying with a clatter of blue and red beads. “Not for me either,” he said. “Elrond is staying here, so I plan to stay too. I was born in Hithlum, you see, towards the end of the war.”

“I remember hearing that Gil-galad and Elrond had been in Hithlum for a while, after Finarfin broke the Gates of Sirion,” Maglor said.

Arachon smiled. “I was eleven when I met him, in the rubble of my mother’s house after the Vanyar host swept through with their lightnings. Very fine they were, I suppose, looking back on it now, but terrifying to a snotty slave-born brat like me!   But you couldn’t be afraid of Elrond. Or Elros, for that matter, but it was Elrond who took me in and called me cousin. My mother is descended from the House of Hador, you see.”

He did not mention his father. That probably meant that his father or his grandfather had been one of the Enemy’s Easterling Men, who had taken Hithlum and enslaved the Edain who lived there.

“So I might have guessed,” Maglor told him. “You look a little like him.  Hador, I mean, not Elrond.”  They came to a place where there were no buildings yet, only tents that from their design and worn appearance had certainly come with the host from Valinor, and timber stacked inside to keep it from warping in the rain. Halfdan led them through.

Arachon grinned at him confidentially. “I don’t know if it’s really true,” he said. “It might be that my grandmother made it up.  We didn’t have much to be proud of, my mother and I.  But Elrond insists that we are cousins.  He invited Mother to dinner, and she knitted him a hat.  He wears it sometimes, too.”

“It’s a very knobbly hat,” Halfdan added. “Somehow he manages not to make it look ridiculous. I don’t know how. Elf magic, probably!”