3am is when you face your fears 3am is when you get your heart broken 3am is when I had found that mouse in the apartment 3am is when I’m flapping my hands hysterically trying to throw away the remains of a centipede
really big bug really big bug big bug in my house so many legs I don’t know what it’s called in english and I ain’t googling it nope nope nope I want the spiders back imma gonna leave it there smooshed and covered with a napkin and wait for dad to throw it away tomorrow gonna freak out now kthxbye
Then [eagles] lifted up Lúthien and Beren from the earth, and bore them aloft into the clouds….Thus they passed swiftly over Dor-nu-Fauglith, and over Taur-nu-Fuin, and came above the hidden valley of Tumladen. No cloud nor mist lay there, and looking down Lúthien saw far below, as a white light starting from a green jewel, the radiance of Gondolin where Turgon dwelt.
“Of Beren and Lúthien” - The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien
Maybe a thief stole your heart, or maybe we just drifted apart. I remember driving in my daddy’s car to the airfield, blanket on the hood, backs against the windshield. Back then this thing was running on momentum, love and trust. That paradise is buried in the dust.
I hit like a raging bull
Anointed by the blood, I take the reins
Posnak commissioned this picture of Dis encountering a bear in the woods from me, and as I think it turned out surprisingly nice and I rarely do backgrounds, I asked a permission to post it here.
Drawn with pencil and colored in photoshop. The bear probably should be bigger and all that jazz but ughhhh backgrounds and colors whooo yay
The Old Town Bookshop | Edinburgh
I’m so booooooored.
- dismantled and fixed the window locks
- washed the dishes
- did my nails
- sewed up the sweater
- fixed some broken jewelry
- did the laundry
- all the while rewatching arrested development
The Hobbit Photoset - Places: Erebor
© J.R.R.Tolkien, New Line Cinema
‘Your Mr Martin carries on about the harshness of the service,’ he observed after the fourth cup, ‘and although I must confess that a flogging round the fleet is not a pretty sight, I feel that perhaps he may carry it a trifle high. He may exaggerate. It is unpleasant, to be sure, but it is not necessarily death and damnation.’
‘For my part I should prefer hanging,’ said Stephen.
‘You and Martin may say what you like,’ said Jack, ‘but there are two ends to every pudding.’
‘I should be the last to deny it,’ said Stephen. ‘If a pudding starts, clearly it must end; the human mind is incapable of grasping infinity, and an endless pudding passes our conception.’
|—||The Ionian Mission (Patrick O’Brian)|