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perfection

501st as bizarre t shirts

tag yourself im little miss fully developed frontal lobe

The disdain, the eloquence - a masterful eyebrow raise!! He gets it from his dad 🥹

Aww, it's genetic! 🥰

Okay, BobaDinLuke but they have the same chemistry as Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, and Elizabeth Swan respectively

A short comic I made about my experiences as a seasonal worker, and the way places change you.

Prints & PDF

Initial sketches of Erestor… plan to add colour at some point…

Top left: a peaceful moment.

Top right: the third kinslaying. Erestor is having the worst day ever.

Bottom left: he and Gil-Galad have a silent but very intense game of fashion one-upmanship going on, and Erestor plays to win. Courtiers swoon left and right. Sauron trembles before his resting bitch face.

Bottom right: casual mode. The hair hides secrets. 8,000 years of secrets, in fact.

Maglor “educating” Elros and Elrond

finally some viola rep

So I made a snickers cheesecake. Except there's no snickers or cheese, and it's not a cake.

And this happened -

My flatmate: Goose, this is great! How did you get the filling so creamy?

Me, recalling the metric fuck ton of cream that went into this diabetic daydream: funny you ask, actually...

Lindir, blackmailing his way into a position in Lindon so he can keep taking care of Elrond and Elros: And - and then... I saw the massacre at Sirion... i-it haunts my n-nightmares...

Lindir at Sirion:

Orc: man, we're so lost in this blizzard - forget attacking himring, we can't even see himring! Orc: ... wait. Orc: *squints*

They've put a giant eight-pointed star on the fortress on top of the hill overlooking the city. If I squint hard enough, I kind of feel like I'm in Himring (bad picture taken three quarter of the way up the hill, complete with desolate vegetation and thickish moving fog).

Alphas as bizarre t shirts

to be clear - this is the only two alpha-class clones from star wars that i know sooooo. let me know your favourites and they can have dumb sexy t shirts too

So there was a post a while back about Ben Solo always being told "don't do (x), that's how uncle luke lost his hand" when he was a kid - and I raise you: Elrond and Elros being told "don't do (x), that's how Maedhros lost his hand"??

Like, at Amon Ereb when the twins were newly acquired and refusing to eat their vegetables and Maglor is Mag-mothering them until Erestor, feral half-sane clinically depressed anarchist Avari hostage/patient/infiltrator and Certified Little Shit, hits em with:

"I would listen to the Lord Maglor, winyamor, he well knows the dangers that come to young elflings who don't eat enough vegetables - after all, that's how his brother lost his hand."

Elrond looks conflicted. Elros squints suspiciously. "Truly?"

Erestor, practically comatose since the massacre but ultimately saved from Fading by the biological compulsion to fuck with you, lays a hand over his heart. "I would never lie about such a thing! Just what do you take me for? This is a true tale and a grave warning - the Lord Maedhros' hand was tragically lost in the days of his youth, whilst he was still growing as you are. He refused to eat his vegetables and so, cruelly deprived of the strength it needed to grow strong, his body started to fall apart! First his fingers, then his thumb, and then his palm and wrist - all turned blue and dropped off!"

"No!" Elrond gasps. Elros looks both terrified and impressed. Maglor's face is scrunched up into something that the twins probably interpret as pained - at reminder of the horrors of limbs falling off! - but is actually just him busting a rib trying not to laugh.

"Yes!" Erestor cries with relish. "And it never grew back. All because he didn't eat his vegetables. Isn't that right, Lord Maedhros?"

Maedhros, a looming terror at the head of the table, scarred and solemn and impenetrable as his fortresses, narrows his eyes consideringly at the unfolding shenanigans and the rascal behind it. His conclusion? Fuck it. He gives a slow, solemn nod. Completely deadpan and exaggeratedly formal, because it may have been centuries since he last had his brothers smothering laughter at political dinners but the Finwëan sense of humour, once caught, is not an ailment easily cured.

Maglor conceals his wheezes behind his goblet as Erestor nods sagely to the wide-eyed twins, who suddenly seem a sight more interested in their vegetables.