108 billionth thoughtcriminal

"Glorfindel must be buried there."

hey these are some tips for some of the little details in drawing fat folks that some people might not know!

everyone has fat on their bodies so its a worthwhile skill to have, but most art tutorials leave it out. heres some other good tips from artists!!

A resource I suggest is fatphotoref. You can also look at fat positive blogs for tons of photos and drawings that can help you learn how fat bodies look in different poses. Tags you can search on this blog include fat art, fatshion, fat athletes, and fat masc. Those tags are probably the best if you're wanting to use fatphobiabusters for pictures to help you learn how to draw fat people. Another tip I have heard a fat artist mention before is if you are fat yourself, use yourself as a reference photo. I hope this helps!

Hey reblogging to ask @fatphobiabusters if they know who to ask for the password!!

thanks in advance ☺️

full transcription of the Concerning… “The Hoard” Tolkien letter from 1964 circa, as presented in manuscript at heritage auctions and never published before. the link to the manuscript’s pictures is inside the doc, transcription is by yours truly with some help to interpret particularly scribbled words.

1. Nauglamir dragonsickness CONFIRMED HELL YEAH

2. Feanor calling himself “Lord of Lights” 👀👀👀

WHAT Tolkien did actually use “the One” to refer to God, sir. Why. Why do you, a linguist, not realize when you use the same wording for drastically different meanings and do not realize that it is a thing. Which the readers would notice. Well, I notice,. Normal people somehow do not. *throws a fit*

i would not be surprised if certain companies were founded on dragon-hoards

yes, Nauglamir dragonsickness!

“partly unhinged”? that’s a very gentle description of poor Hurin

Oh, that’s the version where Nauglamir is made for Thingol, not for Finrod.

eeeh, I don’t like this explanation of why the Girdle failed. Even if we’re not going with Thingol being slain by his hired jewelsmiths, let’s say the Dwarves could enter because the king was in their debt, and also Dwarves are in general resistant to spells, and this includes the Girdle

I wish we had an explanation of whether the Silmaril burned the Dwarves or not and why

oh the wording (TW SA mention in the linked doc if you are very sensitive) yea ik it’s an archaic for kind of theft but. Still. Deserves a warning I suppose.

“The Silmarils were made […] originally with no motive but the making of beauty” hmmm the Silm says something about foresight and preserving the Light of the Trees and tbh I like that better.

oh, Tolkien switches to calling Morgoth by name instead of epithets. I wonder why. Maybe he wrote part on a different day and felt more chill

no. I refuse to accept the Valar commanding Feanor to give them the gems. It’s not in the Silm.

“Feanor then with his Seven Sons, swore the abominable Oath, to hold anyone Elf or Vala, even the One, his enemy if they held or retained a Silmaril and did not surrender it.”

HE FUCKING WHAT

seriously Sir, he said what?!?

where’s your “no elf ever crossed that line because elves are super cool”? because excuse me sir this does cross all the lines

come on

that’s worse than any other oath version

“Fëanor attacked them, slew great numbers of them, and carried off the ships. Thus violence, […] and murder, had entered the Blessed Realm.” Ummmm excuse me but they had entered before when Morgoth attacked Formenos. I’m nitpicking maybe but ok

“he had forfeited his right to the Silmarils (which only the power of the Valar could now recover),” Meanwhile, B&L

but yea, the Men can mess with fate, so I think this sentence above isn’t entirely incorrect.

I wonder if we tend to get a mental picture of Miriel as the poor, frail mother who was so exhausted after making a son that she had to flit off to the Halls of Mandos, or just sit around passively forever. But in all honesty, that's kind of inaccurate.

Somewhere in the legendarium, it's said that Fëanor resembled Finwë in appearance, but in temperament he was more like Miriel. And what do we know about Miriel's temperament? She was stubborn. The more they bugged her about coming back to life, the more obstinately she refused, just because they kept bothering her about it.

Fëanor possibly idolizes his dead mother, but he also possibly romanticizes the concept of her because she's dead. But in a world where she had come back, they would've been an explosion duo. Either Miriel would've made Fëanor worse, or they would've butted heads so hard the whole world would've spontaneously combusted.

Or maybe some of both. Maybe Miriel would have nurtured and encouraged some of Fëanor's traits early on, feeding his stubbornness while it was still largely a good thing. The whole time, she was helping create this immovable force. But then, when Fëanor started making certain decisions, and if Miriel didn't agree with the direction he was taking, then they'd find themselves on opposite sides of the Oath, and hoo boy! There'd be more than just ships burning!

Or! Or! Alternatively, consider a world where Miriel took sides with Morgoth. A world where Morgoth has Miriel as an ally. A world where Fëanor yells, "Get thee gone from my gates!" And Miriel says, "Haha, just try to get me gone from your gates! The more you yell, the longer I'll stay!" But of course, Fëanor can never bring himself to kill or harm her, because she's his mother.

But I mean, what would a Miriel vampire be like? Or a Miriel werewolf? A Miriel orc? Terrifying.

This is a crack territory but consider:

she was incredible with textile arts, almost magic-levels of it

she died but did she go to the Halls? Nobody knows unless we include "Morgoth's Ring"

POV : You’re visiting Tirion’s palace with lady Celebrìan and there is a portrait of lady Galadriel as a very serious baby on the wall.

Thanks @annarobots and @fiammagalathon for the tag!

From the next chapter of The Sun and the Clear Pebbles of the Rain:

Ecthelion sits in his cold spring room for a long time, listening to the rush of the waterfall until all his limbs grow numb, but still he hurts.  He falls asleep there, and one of the servants finds him and half drags, half carries him, blue and trembling, to his bed.  The next morning, when he wakes, he realizes he had forgotten to practice the flute, and there is no flower left on his windowsill. This realization is enough to make him vomit up the half-cup of tea that was all he could manage for breakfast.  This is objectively bad, and he should probably do something about it or the city will never get interior running water, so he goes to the only place he can: the bank. “I need to see Lord Egalmoth,” he announces to the teller at the window.