#justathought

[ariscribe]

fucking valko with his muzzle on because he just wouldnt stop biting You just saying....

[wiltsoppinginoatmilk]

Can't believe I'm saying this but the more I watch FHFIF the more I like Bloo.. I mean he's an arsehole but also a cute arsehole and I kind of. like it

[madameducyberversailles]

Crazy Silm Theory but HEAR ME OUT

I have been in hibernation for a while but anywho, I got a little too hard into JRRT esp Silmarillion and I had a hilarious idea for a fic, and a theory:

Here me out:

I will put this idea in a snippet Please other Silm fans tell me if this would work or no

The One ring glistened on his finger, the elvish script, a longstanding, powerful language, shimmering in the brightness of the fires of Mount Doom, and the sweet embrace of darkness. His greatest work his chiefest triumph: dominion over several more kingdoms than more mortals could dream, corruption abound and bound to him alone. Melkor- no, Morgoth, would be proud. Then again, the Darkest of Vala never shared power; no, Mairon, or rather, Sauron, had surpassed Morgoth. All would soon be in his grasp, in a way that even Morgoth would envy, that Manwe himself would fear, that all the Valar would tremble before him, the one who turned all of Eru Iluvatar's children into his slaves.

Sauron smirked, his armour shuddering with his black laugh. All in due time, of course. All in due time.

Sauron twirled the ring around his finger, his other arm wound around his helmet, a mouthless terror that amplified his commands and made his slaves cower further into the dirt. His crown would soon grace his brow as all mortals fell before it.

"Are my legions in position?" asked Sauron, turning to his commander, a hideous creature of an orc that would soon beautify itself in swallowing the flesh and blood of other, purer living things. Sauron's eyes glittered at the menacing grin as he donned his helmet, ready to meet that fool Isildur's campaign and the elves that dared to follow in some mortal's footsteps.

Sauron struck down another elf, blood decorating his sword with the all the macabre beauty of cherry wine spilling across a silver goblet- but no, this sight was far better; the dwarves, the Eastern tribes, the human kingdoms that were falling under his spell, orcs slaying men and beast alike, it was a beauty he could never capture in time, in paint, in tapestry- oh, if he could relive it again and again!

Sauron lifted his sword, ready to strike at another elf, when something stopped him.

But who could ever stop the terrifying lieutenant of Morgoth, the greatest horror of his age? The Lord of Gifts, A Great Deceiver?

No one stood in front of him. o what was this feeling that stopped him? It wasn't... no, it couldn't be!

Sauron turned his head fiercely, looking around the battlefield, his menacing form cutting through ranks of enemies and allies alike as he marched towards the source of this sensation, this coldness in his body that should not exist with the heat of victory and Mount Doom about to come.

His golden One Ring glinted in affront, the band rubbing against Sauron's sword with how tightly the Maia clenched his gauntleted fist. Sauron's steps crested the hill, and he looked down to see what it was that dared to stop him.

A sword gleamed in the distance, whilst some mortal creature dared to ride some pathetic horse across the field of battle. The mortal, a woman, came closer to the hill, riding across the valley. Her armour, gleaming in what little light the clouds allowed, protected her various weak points, but under her helmet, her eyes shone with a conviction as bright as the Two Trees of Valinor long extinguished.

'My, what a determined face. Just like Galadriel, like Feanor, like Mandos even. Does this mortal seek glory? Do they not understand death? Surely they do. How refreshingly interesting,' Sauron thought to himself, his fist loosening around his sword in amusement.

Sauron's ring pulsed. His fist clenched once more, his brow furrowing under his helm, eyeing that strange mortal once more. What was it doing? The horse was coming closer, and the woman's eyes locked onto his form.

She was foolish enough to come straight towards him? This would be fun-

Sauron's eyes widened behind his helm. The One Ring pulsed once more, just like the little cold tick that wouldn't go away.

The lady rushed up the valley, coming ever closer still, and that was when Sauron knew why this mortal woman had the recklessness, the fearless abandon to charge straight for him.

Her sword hand gleamed, and upon her first finger, a band glowed in the light.

Many coloured metals made up this mismatched ring, welded together by what clearly was Celebrimbor's own work. It was not ordinary trinket, this charmed jewelry.

Sauron was there to oversee the creation of those rings, the dwarven and man-king rings. He knew every hammer strike, every shade of metal, every decorative carving, the exact lustre of each ring.

And he saw it here.

All of them. A multicoloured obscenity embracing her finger, every colour a piece of at least one ring that was created, making this terrifying tapestry of metals, all bound for one purpose.

It was clear to him, two things.

Mortals were clever in making something almost exactly like his own- a counter, a sister ring to overthrow his One with the power of Many.

Now he too understood why Morgoth, the strongest and most terrible of the Valar, could feel fear.

TL;DR: Gather the dust and remnants from every ring, heat that shit up, and make a new ring to punch the One Ring in the smooth face with the power of Friendship

[babydiaryblues-blog]

Feel Everything — Then Let It Go

There are days when feeling everything so deeply feels like both a blessing and a burden. When your heart is tender to every word, every silence, every shift in energy — it’s exhausting. It’s like living without a protective layer, raw to the world. A look can hurt, a word can sting, and silence can echo louder than screams.

But I’ve come to learn something powerful in these moments.

Feel it all. Completely.

Don’t fight it. Don’t numb it. Don’t rush past it. Whether it’s joy, grief, anger, disappointment, love, jealousy, confusion — sit with it. Let it move through you. Let the tears come, let the laughter rise, let the ache expand. Be human.

Because feeling deeply is not a weakness. It’s not something to apologize for. It means you’re alive. Awake. Connected. It means you haven’t shut down, even when shutting down would have been easier.

But here’s the part that matters just as much —

Once you feel it, let it go.

Don’t carry the weight of yesterday’s emotions into tomorrow. Feel them, honor them, but don’t build a home in them. You’re allowed to feel broken without being permanently shattered. You’re allowed to feel joy without fearing its loss. You’re allowed to be vulnerable without staying exposed.

Emotions are visitors — not squatters.

Let them in.

Learn from them.

Then open the door and let them pass.

In every moment, especially the hard ones, remind yourself:

Feel everything. And then, let it go.

— JK

[grievingwhatidonthave]

when your whole personality is being mean and pulling pranks on people despite noticing that people are uncomfortable i just knowwwww your parents never gave you attention

[valdgio]

--- Bener, nggak?

[pinkfloralbow]

You create masterpieces when you are not worried about the outcome of your design/craft/writing/art.

~🧁

[silenced-ghost]

kinda weird seeing people on here disregard when others clearly indicate they aren't interested in pursuing romantic involvements through here and try to engage them in talking about whether they talk to anyone in particular, who their favs are, whether they would date a specific moot, etc.

perhaps I've overthought this, but it feels like an implicit disregard of someone's boundaries. why not take people at their words and let them be online sluts in peace?