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Estel

@bitter-sweet-farmgirl / bitter-sweet-farmgirl.tumblr.com

Tolkien Obsessionist || Farmgirl || Plant mom || Pro-life || Christian ||The Line of Durin Lives
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gabelish

Recently learned that the color of the vest and tie Arthur wears during the Saint Denis ferry gambling mission changes depending on if you have high or low honor (blue for high and red for low) so now i am obsessed with the idea that the prominence of the colors red and blue on certain gang member’s outfit also reflects their honor level.

Whittemore variants versus Arthur’s default outfit, which doesn’t have a scrap of red on it, however no matter what his blue shirt is always fucking dirty and stained. And remember the gang criticizes you if you have blood all over you.

Hosea wears the blue vest (sometimes brown) but he generally has his red neckerchief on, but he also owns a red and black scarf. Mostly good but a little bit of bad.

Red is prominently featured on Micah. His entire shirt is red and he’s usually wearing his jacket like he’s disguising his nature. Even the the grips on his guns have red. And when you rescue him from Strawberry he does not have his coat.

Dutch is the most interesting to me. He has the checkered red scarf which he rarely wears and the red pocket square over his heart. Only the back of his vest is red, like he’s in denial about it, or that it’s only possible to see who he is when he isn’t facing you and putting on a show. Meanwhile on guarma his vest is suddenly reversed!

EDIT: addition

When Hosea is killed he is wearing a completely different outfit with a blue vest and absolutely no red, and both Milton and Dutch are covered in red!

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Sometimes a guy in a fanfiction has the ability to read someone's gaze with the same level of detail a wine taster can taste the wine

"He glared at him with anger in his eyes, but behind that longing and sorrow over things left unsaid, a subtle but desperate yearning for things to be different, and with just a hint of roasted nuts right at the end."

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One of my FAVOURITE ship dynamics to write or read in fics is when two characters are basically already a couple but they just haven't realised it yet. They call each other up at like 3am, they cuddle, they sleep in the same bed, they fall asleep in each other's arms, they hold hands, they practically live together, they talk about having a ~ special connection ~, they just haven't actually kissed or done the do or talked about their feelings yet so they're still both like "but I just don't know if they like me in that way!!"

Less slow burn and more two idiots standing around literally on fire from page one but not noticing until page two hundred.

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The Wormhole, Part 1

Long time no see, Tumblr friends!  To put it simply, college and real life have been my focus for these past few months and now that things are (hopefully) slowing down a bit for the summer, I hope to maybe scroll this hellsite more often than once a month.  

Writer’s block has also been defeated (for the moment) and I’ve got a fun new story in the works.  This one here is just one I’ve been sitting on for awhile.  Enjoy!  

Character Relationships:  Thorin Oakenshield x Modern!Female OC

Content Warning(s):  Mentions of manipulative behavior from an ex-boyfriend and his appearance.

Summary:  Reverse of the “Girl falls into Middle Earth” trope.  Thorin finds himself mysteriously transported to the modern world after surviving BOTFA and winds up in the care of a New York Academy of Arts teacher, Estel Cavanah.  She has no idea why this man is so incompetent with the day’s technology.  

“…And as you can see, the honey shade matches up pretty well with Nashville blue.  The darker tones cool the orange.”  I paused to glance at the clock on the other side of the room.  The neon red numbers signaled the looming end of my class period.

Or, by the way my students were shuffling in their seats and surreptitiously packing away pen and paper, perhaps it was more of a couldn’t-come-soon-enough.  

“Seeing as we are almost out of time, I’ll let you all go. See you on Friday!”  I smiled as the room immediately erupted into a flurry of movement.  The students, all eager to head home to relax at the end of a long day, feverishly packed up the last of their things and filed out of the room.  It was almost insulting how quickly they wanted to leave my class.  But I could understand their hurry; I had been a student once, and no matter how much I loved art, sometimes I couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom.

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