One of my favorite tricks for designing alien species/cultures is to take a real animal with an interesting lifecycle and think about what that biology would translate to if they had human intelligence

Example: silk moths as a base species

Because the moths themselves don’t eat and only live long enough to mate and then starve to death, the entire culture is made up of children and adolescents. The older children raise the younger ones, with families being made up of hatchmates from different years.

Because molts and eventual transformation into a short lived adult happen on a set schedule, families have a cycle— when your oldest set of siblings cocoon to become adults, you wait at the mating grounds and try to adopt their newborns after they pass. If that fails, you take any ‘orphans’ you can find.

Because death and birth are nearly simultaneous, they have a religion based around reincarnation, and infants with markings similar to a parent are often given their name. Claiming the offspring of a beloved family member is vitally important, because you want to be able to protect their soul and keep them close.

Because it’s hard to track the offspring of your male family members, there are sometimes major fights when a family sees an infant with familiar markings in another family’s clutch.

Between mating seasons, their culture is extremely food-oriented, because everyone is growing and silkworms eat nigh constantly. They spend most of their lives outdoors but sleep and shelter from bad weather in large family dwellings made from wood and the remains of the silk cocoons of prior generations.

everyone is really vibing with the silkworm aliens I see

Stashing this for further pondering

Prompt I will never do anything with: instead of being given to the Dursleys, Harry Potter is put up for adoption and is adopted by the Addams Family

Gomez, being forcibly removed from the stands of a Hogwarts quidditch match for the third time: MY BOY! MY BOY’S UP THERE! HE’S SEEKER!

McGonagall, sweating: Mr. Addams, how do you keep sneaking onto grounds

As I said to @door :

Wednesday is woefully jealous of how dramatic Harry's origin is and fiercely protective of him, only SHE is allowed to torture him

Harry's hair would be more slicked back and shinier than Draco could ever hope to achieve Harry still gets sorted into Gryffindor Morticia says he gets that from Gomez' side of the family

Meanwhile Wednesday gets into Hogwarts as well,

*During House assigning*

Professor McGonnagal: Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday *begins to get up*

Sorting hat: Yeah no, no, sit back down kid. You’re Slytheren. I have never been more sure of anything in my existence.

*Later at Slytheren dorm*

Draco: Well look, if it isn’t Potter’s little Mudblood sister, listen up you little...

Wednesday: *Shoots Malfoy a glare which instantly silences him.* You will listen to me and listen carefully. I do not like repeating myself. Harry is off limits. In fact, everyone in Gryffondor is off limits, that goes for the rest of you. If you cause ANY trouble for my adopted brother, you will answer directly to me. Is this understood?

Draco:...Yes mum.

*Later in potions class*

Snape: Potter, you were two seconds late, twenty points from Gryffondor.

Wednesday: *Picks up beaker and smashes it on the floor.* Professor Snape. I have wilfully destroyed school property. I believe that is a twenty point deduction from Slytheren house.

Snape: Did you? Well I didn’t see it so.

Wednesday: *Gets up, walks to the front of the class, looking Snape in the eye the entire time, smashes another beaker on the ground right in front of him.* Twenty. Points. From Slytheren.

Snape:..... Alright then twenty points from Slytheren.

Wednesday: *Returns to seat, still glaring at Snape*

Snape: Now before we get on with classes I have the results of last weeks pop quiz, fairly expected stuff, Mr. Weasley you did adequate, but your penmanship was atrocious which is...

Wednesday *Grabs another beaker and holds it up with a look on her face that says ‘I can keep this up as long as you can old man’*

Snape:....Something you should work on in the future.

*Later*

Draco: Can’t you just expel her professor?

Snape: Well I could in theory, but considering her muggle father keeps somehow sneaking in here I think whether she has permission to be here or not is rather Academic. Besides, I’m not crossing her after what she did to Umbridge.

Draco: *Shudders* Don’t remind me.

This is one of those posts I'm going to watch for hopefully in future to see what awesome new additions it gets. Go on Tumblr, be brilliant!

please keep me informed as well

I just imagined the third book when they learn Sirius Black is trying to kill Harry, and is his godfather.

Gomez: well that makes him family, we must invite him over.

Harry: but father, everyone says he's trying to kill me.

Gomez: oh, of course, how thoughtless of me. Lurch, put away the swords for guests and sharpen up the good swords we use for special occasions! A relative visiting is one thing, but a murderous relative needs to be celebrated.

Harry: thank you, father.

XD and as soon as they find sirius is innocent hed be welcomed into the family with open arms.

Can you imagine the Addams during the fight at the ministry of magic or at hogwarts?

Gomez with a sword

Mortitia with man eating plants

Pugsley with explosives

Wednesday just keeps pulling bigger and bigger weapons out of those tiny pockets on her dress. She has a wand but never uses it!

A death eater turns a corner and she's inexplicably there with a cannon!

Okay but the Addams Family going off on Dumbledore for all the BS he put Harry through without warning him like he could have. (Because fuck that shit. Destiny/fate my ass.)

Just...just all of this... Mortisha: So how was your first year of schooling children? Wensday: *pouting* Harry got to see a 3 headed dog and play with it. Harry: Only a little! Gomez: Oh how fun! Maybe we should look into getting one or 2!

All the yes

How am I only just finding this, this is brilliant

When they find out Lupin was fired for being a werewolf they offer him a place to stay. Granmama brews his wolfbane potion every month, better than Snape!

And they start calling him "cousin Remus" before the end of the second week.

Hagrid, of course, is always welcome in their house along with any creatures he’s adopted and needs to hide from the authorities.

“Are you an angel too?”

Mr. Crowley looked down at them through his sunglasses, making Caroline feel even smaller than she was at the age of nine. Oliver was the one who’d asked the question. He was six, and he didn’t seem to have picked up as much on the I-don’t-like-people vibe that Mr. Crowley gave off, so he was braver. Plus, Oliver hadn’t seen all of what had happened, Caroline had pushed him away before Mr. Fell had been— 

“Like Mr. Fell,” Oliver prompted.

“Oh.” Mr. Crowley shook his head, adjusting a book on one of the store’s shelves. “Mr. Fell isn’t really an angel, it’s just a nickname.”

Oliver gave the tall, red-headed man one of those looks that he would give Caroline when he thought she was being the dumbest person alive. Caroline elbowed him, but her arm was shaking so badly that Oliver just brushed it away. “Why does he have wings, then?” he asked.

Mr. Crowley froze in his movements. “What?” When he didn’t get an answer, he focused on Caroline. “Where is Mr. Fell?”

Caroline finally found her voice, although it was very small. “They took him. At the back door. Two men, they—”

Mr. Crowley seemed calm. But at the same time he seemed to change a little, like he was suddenly a larger person inside the same body. “Where did they take him?” he asked patiently, and Caroline realized that Mr. Crowley was angry, but that he was trying very hard not to frighten her more than she already was. She found a little more courage then.

“I think he wanted me to give this to you. He didn’t say it, but he saw me and he dropped it—maybe you can find him with it?” Caroline handed him a single white feather. All that was left of sweet Mr. Fell, who liked just about everybody, who smelled like peppermints, who recited The Jabberwocky while acting out all the parts, whom Mr. Crowley called angel. It made perfect sense that it was no nickname.

“Are you an angel too?” Oliver repeated.

When Mr. Crowley answered, he seemed to have entirely too many teeth. “No.”

Caroline let out a shaky breath.  “Good.”

After that the bookshop was closed for weeks. But finally, one day, as their family walked by, Mr. Fell appeared in the doorway, smiling at them. He looked pale and tired, and there was a bandage on his neck above his collar and one on his wrist. Mr. Crowley stood next to him, a hand around his waist.

Their parents somehow got distracted in another aisle and Mr. Fell called Caroline and Oliver close. “I owe you great thanks,” he said. “You were very brave.”

“Who hurt you?” Oliver asked.

Mr. Crowley guided Mr. Fell to sit down in an armchair, and hovered next to him. “Well,” said Mr. Fell, “Mr. Crowley and I did something that made some people very angry.”

“Was it a bad thing?” asked Caroline.

“We don’t think so, no.”

“Oh, you got married,” Oliver said knowledgeably. “Not supposed to. Cause you’re two boys.”

Caroline hissed at him to be quiet, but Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley exchanged an amused glance. “That’s…actually not terribly far off,” Mr. Fell said. “Anyway, I wanted to give you these.” He handed them each a book: for Oliver The Complete Winnie the Pooh and for Caroline The Tale of Despereaux.

As the children said their excited thank-you’s, Mr. Crowley groused, “Not Goodnight Moon?”

“My dear, they’re a little old for—”

“It’s a classic, angel, you’re never too old for Goodnight Moon, for Somebody’s sake.” Mr. Crowley’s hands were empty, and then he was suddenly holding a copy. He handed it to Oliver. Oliver’s mouth fell open. 

“So if you’re not an angel,” Caroline said softly, “Then—”

“He’s something scary,” Oliver spoke up.

Caroline shoved him but Mr. Crowley was laughing. “Oh, Mr. Fell’s much scarier than I am.”

Mr. Fell gave him a look of surprise. “I am not!”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Crowley grinned at the children. “Let’s do some math, then. Mr. Fell, how many eyes do I have?”

For some reason Mr. Fell looked extremely displeased by this question. “Two,“ he answered.

“And how many eyes do you have?”

“Two…at the moment.”

“Ah!” said Mr. Crowley. “But how many eyes do you actually have?”

“How many?” Oliver whispered in excitement.

Mr. Crowley whispered right back to him. “Sixteen!”

“Oh, for—” Mr. Fell pointed a finger at his husband. “I’m not the one who has to go about wearing sunglasses.” 

Mr. Crowley made a face like he was pretending to be upset, and Mr. Fell laughed. “You started it, my dear. Go on, then.”

With a furtive smile, Mr. Crowley leaned in close and lowered his sunglasses. Bright yellow snake eyes looked back at them. Oliver got so excited he jumped a couple of times. Mr. Crowley just winked.

When Caroline got home and opened her new book, she was surprised to find a tiny feather pressed inside the front cover, and a note: In case you ever need help.

The feather was black.

Find me on Ao3: holycatsandrabbits <3

Reblog to refind in future.

Beauty and the beast

op I love your art style and this story and oml this is so good

@spiritspodcast

Good omens crossover

Aaand this crossover is taking over my brain.

And more

Keep reading

stashes

Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen.

We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.”

Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress.

Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell.

You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home.

We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it.

An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly”

That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them.

Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes.

Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off.

It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do.

It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them.

He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’.

The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please.

Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it.

Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it.

When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.  

Additionally to the wonderful meta of @thelazyzephyr (which I just spent about two hours refinding to fav): I adore that in the scene where Aziraphael returns incorporeal - the light angle makes Crowley’s usually opaque glasses translucent - his emotions overwhelming that usual barrier.

This is everything

New life goals...

also consider: LOTR but hobbits have Tapeta Lucidum

Boromir gets the fright of his life their first night on the road

Boromir: *glances over his shoulder* ??!!!!???!!

Hobbits:

Hobbits: what

i will never get over that you used an image of raccoons for this purpose because it is incredibly accurate

LOTR au but instead of hobbits literally raccoons

Gandalf: well this raccoon found the ring and has been carrying it around. unfortunately we can’t take it off him or he gets very bite-y. so I figure, the raccoon is the ringbearer now

Elrond: what are those other three raccoons doing here

Gandalf: he brought his buddies. I call this one ‘Merry’

TRASH PANDA HOBBITS

@auraboo THE LEGACY OF FATTY MCFAT LIVES ON

Aragorn: *watching Frodo & Sam scamper off in the direction of Mordor* our hopes lie with those raccoons now

Legolas: do they… know where they are going

Aragorn: I sure hope so

Faramir: father why is this raccoon in the livery of the citadel

Denethor: haha doesn’t he look precious

Elfhelm: Dernhelm, is that a raccoon in your bag?

Dernhelm: *sweating nervously* Uh no, sir.

Eowyn, later: And I said no, you know, like a liar.

Denethor: WHY did you let a raccoon go off with the Ring??

Faramir: ….it just seemed like the right thing to do

Gandalf: he scratched you up real good huh

Faramir: ……………gouged my FUCKING arm and bit me on my face

Witch King: no living man can kill me - AUGH FUCK, RACCOON, RACCOON ON MY LEG ARGHHHH

Eowyn: *stab*

Wraiths break into the room at the prancing pony: *UnHoLy ScReEcHiNg*

Trash Panda Hobbits:

Wraiths: Oh, what the fuck, whAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!

Treebeard: Baroom, humm, where are my small, impatient friends?

Merry and Pippin:

Don’t go where I can’t follow, Mr. Frodo.

~~~~~~The Hobbit interlude~~~~~~

Thorin: You’re the burgular.Go on and…burgle something! Bilbo:

Saruman: Well since some fucking TREES took over Isengard I guess I’ll take over The Shire. Farmer Maggot and ever other Halfling down to the Sacksville-Bagginses:

Apparently Tolkien actually did have to specify that Hobbits look humanoid: “I picture a fairly human figure, not a kind of ‘fairy’ rabbit as some of my British reviewers seem to fancy…” 

reblogging for all of the above but particularly the last comment.

Plausible in-universe explanation for sexy elf hair

Okay, so the fandom somehow collectively decided that elves aren’t turned on by big tits and whatnot, but by dat hair tho. 

And I’ve been thinking about WHY this could be. WHY would hair be erotic to an elf?

The reason humans are turned on by ass ‘n tits is because they’re indicators of fertility and virility, at their core. 

For elves, fertility and virility depend almost entirely on their strength of fea, or soul. The fea is also responsible for making the body work. All that’s canon. So, what I’m thinking here, is a quality fea means quality sex and kids, right? A quality fea also means…that hair grows. When a human is malnourished and all, their hair goes to shit. The opposite is also true. Being hella healthy = nice, growing, silky hair. So, for elves, healthy fea = nice growing hair.

So, the faster an elf’s hair grows and the more silky it is, the better their fea is. And, thus, long hair. So, that could explain why elves find hair so erotic apparently. See a man walkin round with six feet of hair and go “daaaaaaaaamn he must be great in marriage.”

You know those “masculinity enhancement” pills at gas stations? The elvish equivalent of that would be special oils marketed to make your hair grow faster. 

Additional point- having bad hair is a huge disgrace. You know how Gwindor came back from Angband, totally fucked up and disheveled, hair a mess? And Findulais was immediately like oh fuck no he’s not hot anymore? Mmm. Additionally, explains why Saeros just got so pissed off about Turin not keeping his hair nice. 

Additional point- having short hair for an elf is basically giving a big “fuck you” to the dating world. Cutting one’s hair short makes one incredibly unattractive to elves. Got a maia who won’t leave you the fuck alone? Cut your hair off, they’ll hate it. Got a bro who keeps reeling in all the girls and you’re jealous? Cut his hair off. 

While I duly appreciate the spec-bio here what I am really taking away from this post is that Finwë was basically named ‘Tits McGee’ and all his descendants had porn-star names. 

Ok I don’t even go here but doesn’t this add new layers to the parts where  Fëanor asked for strands of Galadriel’s hair and then she gave three hairs to Gimli

o shit i ddint consider that

Is this the equivalent of Gimli accidentally asking for a signed bra without ever realising the cultural context...

Today’s Unexpected Research: How far can a raven fly in a day?

Turns out the answer is that real-world pigeons are faster than real-world ravens, but that ravens could be considered tougher and are more intelligent. 

Ravens average between 25 and 30 mph. So if a messenger raven flies for say 10 hours (the rest being used for roost, food etc) it could cover about 250 to 300 miles in a day. 

Now, estimates put the journey from the Shire to Erebor at about 950 miles. However, that was following the journey of Thorin and co, which was round the houses to say the least. As the crow flies (or Raven in this case) you can consider a linear distance which is notably shorter. Let’s say 700 miles. 

As such, a raven could definitely get from Erebor to the Shire within three days, factor in a prompt reply (and for the raven to rest) and that means that Bilbo and Thorin could carry on a weekly correspondence if Bilbo were back in the Shire.

(And Thorin wasn’t dead, obviously)

This pleases me.

In not unrelated news, I’ve started a new fic today, based on the Bagginshield Synopsis (warning for all the spoilers.)

The opposite of grimdark is hopepunk. Pass it on.

#this is a good post #also I need an example of hopepunk #bc the name #resonates with me #and I need it #please #if you don’t mind (via @lavender-starling)

So the essence of grimdark is that everyone’s inherently sort of a bad person and does bad things, and that’s awful and disheartening and cynical. It’s looking at human nature and going, “The glass is half empty.” Hopepunk says, “No, I don’t accept that. Go fuck yourself: The glass is half-full.”  YEAH, we’re all a messy mix of good and bad, flaws and virtues. We’ve all been mean and petty and cruel, but (and here’s the important part) we’ve also been soft and forgiving and KIND. Hopepunk says that kindness and softness doesn’t equal weakness, and that in this world of brutal cynicism and nihilism, being kind is a political act. An act of rebellion. 

Hopepunk says that genuinely and sincerely caring about something, anything, requires bravery and strength. Hopepunk isn’t ever about submission or acceptance: It’s about standing up and fighting for what you believe in. It’s about standing up for other people. It’s about DEMANDING a better, kinder world, and truly believing that we can get there if we care about each other as hard as we possibly can, with every drop of power in our little hearts. 

Going to political protests is hopepunk. Calling your senators is hopepunk. But crying is also hopepunk, because crying means you still have feelings, and feelings are how you know you’re alive. The 1% doesn’t want you to have feelings, they just want you to feel resigned. Feeling resigned is not hopepunk.

Examples! THE HANDMAID’S TALE is arguably hopepunk. It’s scary and dark, and at first glance it looks like grimdark because it’s a dystopia… but goddammit she keeps fighting. That’s the key, right there. She fights every single day, because she won’t let them take away meaning from her life. She survives stubbornly in the hope that one day she can live again. “Don’t let the bastards grind you down,” is one of the core tenets of hopepunk, along with, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”  Jesus and Gandhi and Martin Luther King and Robin Hood and John Lennon were hopepunk. (Remember: Hopepunk isn’t about moral perfection. It’s not about being as pure and innocent as the new-fallen snow. You get grubby when you fight. You make mistakes. You’re sometimes a little bit of an asshole. Maybe you’re as much as 50% an asshole. But the glass is half full, not half empty. You get up, and you keep fighting, and caring, and trying to make the world a little better for the people around you. You get to make mistakes. It’s a process. You get to ask for and earn forgiveness. And you love, and love, and love.) 

And THIS, this is hopepunk: 

HOPE AND HONESTY IN A SOCIETY THAT VALUES CYNICISM AND DECEPTION IS SUBVERSIVE AND THEREFOR PUNK

I AM HERE FOR THIS MOVEMENT. HOPE AND HONESTY ARE DEEPLY PUNK ROCK. KINDNESS IS GOTH AS FUCK.

Another example is Mad Max: Fury Road. Life sucks, and we’re going to work to make it better. 

Reblogged here for Sam being so Hufflepuff HopePunk it hurts.

I’d also like to add to canon: Hopepunk means you usually have a couple of safety pins on you - even if they aren't through your flesh, and perhaps a bandaid or two to pass on if needed.

“Tolkien Cliches,” Limyaael

(via mithtransdir)

The whole point of The Lord Of The Rings… like, the WHOLE POINT… is that it is ultimately the hobbits who save the world. The small, vulnerable, ordinary people who aren’t great warriors or heroes.

Specifically, Sam. Sam saves the world. All of it. The ultimate success of the great quest is 100% due to a fat little gardener who likes to cook and never wanted to go on an adventure but who did it because he wasn’t going to let his beloved Frodo go off alone. Frodo is the only one truly able to handle the ring long enough to get it into Mordor - and it nearly kills him and permanently emotionally damages him - but Sam is the one who takes care of Frodo that whole time. Who makes him eat. Who finds him water. Who watches over him while he sleeps.

Sam is the one who fights off Shelob.

Sam is the one who takes the Ring when he thinks Frodo is dead.

Sam is the one who strolls into Orc Central and saves Frodo by sheer determination and killing any orc who crosses him. (SAM THE GARDENER GOES AND KILLS AN ACTUAL ORC TO GET FRODO SOME CLOTHES LET’S JUST THINK ABOUT THAT). And then Sam just takes off the Ring and gives it back which is supposed to be freaking impossible and he barely even hesitates.

Sam literally carries Frodo on the last leg of the journey. On his back. He’s half-starved, dying slowly of dehydration, but he carries Frodo up the goddamn mountain and Gollum may get credit for accidentally destroying the ring but Sam was the one who got them all there.

Sam saved the world.

And let’s not forget Pippin and Merry, who get damselled out of the story (the orcs have carried them off! We must make a Heroic Run To Save Them!) and then rescue themselves, recruit the Terrifying Ancient Powers through being genuinely nice and sincere, and overthrow Saruman before the ‘real’ heroes even get there.

Let’s not forget Pippin single-handedly saving what’s left of Gondor - and Faramir - by understanding that there is a time for obeying orders and a time for realizing that the boss is bugfuck nuts and we need to get help right now.

Let’s not forget Merry sticking his sword into the terrifying, profoundly evil horror that has chased him all over his world because his friend is fighting it and he’s gonna help, dammit and that’s how the most powerful Ringwraith goes down to a suicidally depressed woman and a scared little hobbit.

Everything the others do, the kings and princes and great heroes and all? They buy time.  They distract the bad guys. They keep the armies occupied. That is what kings and great leaders are for - they do the big picture stuff.

But it is ultimately the hobbits who bring down every villain. Every one. And I believe that that is 100% on purpose. Tolkien was a soldier in WWI. His son fought in WWII. (And a lot of The Lord Of The Rings was written in letters to him while he did it.)

And hey, look, The Lord Of The Rings is about ordinary people - farmers, scholars, and so on - who get pulled into a war not of their making but who have to fight not only because their own home is in danger but so is everyone’s. And they’re small and scared but they do the best they can for as long as they can and that is what actually saves the world. Not great heroes and pre-destined kings. Ordinary people, doing extraordinary things because they want the world to be safe for ordinary people, the ones they know and the ones they don’t.

Ordinary people matter. They can save the world without being great heroes or kings or whatever. And that is really important and I get so upset when people miss that because Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli and Gandalf and all the others are great characters and all but they are ultimately a hobbit delivery system.

It is ordinary people doing their best who really change the world, and continue doing so after the war is over because they have to go home and rebuild and they do.

If nothing else, I have to reblog this for the phrase “hobbit delivery system.” So accurate it hurts.

(via elenilote)

What I love too is how even the foretold king and the assorted great heroes themselves all come to recognize that their main (and by the end, only) role is to distract Sauron. To the point that by the end they’re all gathered up before the black gates of Mordor in order to keep his attention focused on them, with only the hope - not the certainty - that they can buy Frodo whatever remaining time he needs, if he’s even still alive.

One thing the movies left out but has always been such a key part of the books for me was how when the hobbits returned home, they found that home had been changed too. The war touched everywhere. Even with all they did in far-off lands to protect the Shire, the Shire had still been damaged, both property and lives destroyed, and it wasn’t an easy or simplistically happy homecoming. They had to fight yet another battle (granted a much smaller one) to save their neighbours, and then spent years in rebuilding.

(via garrusscars)

In many ways, the entire POINT is that homecoming. A quest, an adventure, is defined by the return home, and the realization that not only have YOU changed, so has your home.

(via mymyriadmusings)

“My friends, you bow to no one.”

(via sorrelchestnut)

Even more relevant today.

(via notanecromancer)

Reblogged to reread and reread.

sometimes i get really messed up thinking about Erebor. 

i don’t know. just. Erebor everyday life stuff. fascinating. 

Bilbo called it “the greatest kingdom in middle earth” and i’m not about to take that lightly

EREBOR EVERYDAY STUFF IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME???

Yes but consider this: dwarven engineers.

Don’t forget this one:

THIS GOT BETTER

and let’s not forget the fact that that whole massive forge-bellow-suspended trolley system worked even after like AGES of not being used, and all it took was some heating and some water. DWARVEN ENGINEERING IS THE BEST (and probably only) engineering in that world. steam. water. delicate and fucking intricate mechanisms. DWARVES WOULD HAVE TOTALLY BUILT A RAILWAY. they probably dreamt of connecting their kingdoms through rails, and I bet that they were halfway to building a mine that pretty much operated itself, tiny trains and those lift-y things we saw in auj and everything. come to think of it, everything we saw in auj and dos made the whole mountain look like just one huge machine.

remember this guy?? HOLY SHIT. those are some massive-ass hammers on some semi-perpetual motion like hOW HUGE A MACHINERY do you have to build to operate that??!? I bet that guy has like a pedal close by that he fucking steps on and those massive hammers just STOP, that’s how badass it is. look at all that steam, look at the fires blazing behind him. lots of heat and water and intrinsic knowledge of engineering and physics, that’s dwarves for you.

AND OH SHIT OF COURSE the royals have it as a point of pride to circle through as many professions as possible, and even when they have all their royal duties, they still keep working on whatever they’re best at. they are after all also the cogs in the machine of their kingdom. I’M SMITTEN WITH DWARVES.

THEY DREAMED OF CONNECTING THEIR KINGDOMS WITH RAILWAYS YESSSS ANNIE. i bet they had all the tunnels planned at one point, talk of moving iron from the Hills as well as precious gems from Erebor but also, moving goods that were obtained through trade with other peoples to kingdoms outside of the access area, goDD i wouldn’t be surprised if they had or were well on their way to inventing some sort of steam engine? i mean they’ve harnessed water, fire, they have some fuel that burns hot enough for all this smithing going on ALL THE TIME. man it can’t be just wood, that’s so unsustainable, and most of the trees we saw outside of erebor were pines and pine doesn’t burn that hot. so they’ve got some other fuel, or else an unlikely and practically unlimited source of oak trees lmao OMG DWARVES I LOVE THEM ALL AND THEIR GENIUS 

I AM SO VERY GLAD YOU ALL AGREE WITH ME ON THE RAILWAY IDEA

But no seriously, I can totally imagine that by the time Smaug came they’d been starting to build tunnels already for a massive underground railway system that was supposed to secretly connect all the dwarven kingdoms at some point, yes. Mainly for the purpose of coal & co, definitely. Unfortunately, Smaug’s coming put an end to that at first because Erebor was the starting point where they started tunneling from.

(Imagine them planning to have a secret stop somewhere in Mirkwood thought where they’d suddenly pop out of the ground within like half a day after Thranduil sent a messenger to them :P) 

I’m 100% they had invented a steam engine already or where close to it because COME ON THOSE ARE DWARVES they genius engineers per definition and they’ve had millenia to do so. (Also Steampunk Dwarves is totally a thing, yes? Yes.)

Also, talking about steams, there were DEFINITELY big dwarven hot tubs in the mountains there, community steam baths and so on, because you could very well have some big water cisterns and co above and around where the forge fires were and use that to heat the water for it. It’s one of THE social meeting places in the mountain because everybody goes there after a hard day’s work to relax and chat and fuck gender norms it’s all just one big bath with eg several hot tubs where everyone can mingle with anyone. (There are also children’s baths which are very small so they don’t drown. The number of times Frerin hit Thorin over the head with his little wooden duck in there is amazing).

and now let me add something to this and whisper to all of you:

underground train system between Erebor and the Iron Hills in the Fourth Age, powered first by steam and later with electricity, because duh, steam locomotives are boring

Okay this is all excellent and I’m going to address some of these points slash add to them:

Erebor is indeed hugely vast, both up and down and outwards underneath it, and I can think there’s a central core structure with rings around it that are the various levels of Erebor - dwarves live on the outsides of the rings and the communal features of each ring are on the inside.

I don’t think Erebor would have much livestock in it. You’d quickly get a lot of manure, and you’d need places to store them. There are probably some livestock like ponies or oxen, but not a lot. I think travel is indeed lifts and carts and pulleys that work mainly on weighting systems.

Pastures on the mountainside sadly would not work. Erebor cannot be any sort of volcano, because then you couldn’t mine it - one wrong tap could trigger an explosion. Even if you carved hollows and filled them with earth for pastures, you would have to think about draining (and it takes a very long time to drain water through even the most drainable rock) and you would need to completely replace all the earth every few years. It would be too difficult and too time consuming.

Definitely carts and rickshaws, more and less affluent areas, definitely it all being kept clean and everyone helping out, less of a caste system and hierarchy and definitely diverse genders and roles and so on!

Definitely steam. But steam has to be highly pressurised to be used and could only be used very locally - not to mention steam produces a lot of moisture, a lot of heat, and takes a LOT of fuel to produce. Anywhere with a lot of steam is going to get damp and smoky and stifling - too much steam would turn Erebor into a smoky sauna. So steam used for powering bits and pieces here, definitely little mine-carts and small train-like systems.

We’ve been told that the wealth of Erebor lies mainly in precious metals. I’m sure there is coal, but it is just one peak, so there can’t be a lot of it - which means there has to be importation happening. Not only of coal, but iron ore and so on.

Sadly there are too many problems with an underground railway to make it viable. As mentioned above steam is a very localised thing to use, and produces a lot of, well, steam. Not only that but you’d need a lot of fuel - coal - which would produce choking amounts of smoke. The tunnel would quickly become a suffocation / heat death trap - and you would need so much ventilation you wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden - not to mention so much fuel to run it. The earth would smoke in a ring around it, it wouldn’t stay hidden, and it wouldn’t be practical. 

But consider this instead:

An underground river way. The Grey mountains sit higher than the Iron Hills, which sit higher than Erebor. We can already see a river flows out of Erebor - now imagine a ring-road tunnel that connects all three places. It’s been tunnelled so that the pace of the river is controlled, which means that you could sail back up with rowing. You would need ventilation shafts, but those would be easier hidden and not be smoking or steaming. Ships can also bring large amounts of coal and supplies. So in the heart of Erebor - hidden away - is this massive underground harbour with two gates leading to the Grey Mountains and the Iron Hills, and Smaug destroys the gates (accidentally or on purpose) so that you can’t access them but the water runs through enough not to dam it  and block it.

basically these are all problems I’ve really considered to be able to write Azhâr, so if you wanna read more check it out :T

i’m leaving ventilation as a surprise tho ;O

(Azhâr is such a great fic I love it. ><)

WHAT IF they used a pressure-based exhaust system for their ventiliation? This would incorporate the use of steam - derived from an underground hydroelectric dam (I think that’s what you were going for?), solve the problem of being an enclosed building with little windows and fewer doors to the outside, and make use of an underground river to generate electricity (because let’s face it, electricity is probably a thing they have all the copper they need to make wires). Oh, and pollution and condensation. Terrible things, ruins your home and makes you late for dinner.

This is almost 3k with pictures, I’m gonna stick it under a read more >>;

Keep reading

Reblogging this for mistressvolpe because we talked about it the other night. Also drtimonkeys, if you haven’t seen this yet. Also because it is AWESOME.

I would add to this that whatever herbivores were in the mountain would be more likely to be fed compressed pellets and oats where possible rather than large loose pick like hay or lucene. More efficiency of storage, less waste and these would be working animals that would need the energy to work as hard as their owners. Fat glossy, eager to please Pit Ponies FTW.

While sailing in the Mediterranean sea, in 1962, the American aircraft carrier USS Independence (CV-62) flashed the Italian Amerigo Vespucci with light signal asking «Who are you?», the full rigged ship answered «Training ship Amerigo Vespucci, Italian Navy». The US ship replied «You are the most beautiful ship in the world».

Great, now I ship actual ships.

Not tolkien but Eärendil would approve.

Costume series ◆ The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (requested by anonymous)

costume references.