This Reminds Me Of My Creative Writing Professor's Reaction. One Of My Friends Brought A D&D Book To

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat. 

my favourite character arc has to be Fitz and his evolving relationship with doors

Is it obvious that they're in loooove? (not always)

I can't help it I stan their book dynamic

obsessed with the fact that howl movingcastle is, like, the ideal portal fantasy protagonist. he's a welsh rugby-playing grad student who enters a magical world where he discovers he's a wildly powerful wizard. there's an evil witch out to get him and the king needs his help and there's a curse catching up with him. he has a magical creature sidekick and an orphan apprentice and a mentor who gets killed by the evil witch halfway through and a love interest under a terrible curse. the story is BEGGING for him to be the main character. and he's just like. no <3.

The Differences Between Hera and Eowyn

Just thinking about these two shieldmaidens, and the stark differences between them.

I think a big one is that Eowyn is a romantic, whereas Hera has no wish to marry.

Meanwhile Eowyn hungers for battle and glory, and Hera, although willing to fight, does not desire it.

Hera seems to have grown up in a time of peace, or at least her childhood seems to have been peaceful. Although she lost her mother, she was too young to remember her, she had a father, two brothers, a cousin and a motherly figure. She had constant love, affection and security. However, Helm seems to have been protective of her, so freedom was her greatest desire.

Eowyn's mother and father died at an age for her to be devastated at their loss. She then lost her uncle, her father figure, as he succumbed to Grima's enchantments, and her brother and cousin regularly left her behind. Her life was marked with violence and loss.

Meduseld was a cage, but the only people close to her leaving Meduseld were soldiers riding to battle. Freedom meant battle, because battle was what went on beyond the walls of Meduseld. Battle also meant a place in the histories, a chance to be remembered. Battle was where her brother and cousin went when they left her behind. Battle was the opposite of the dry nursing role she was ill suited for, yet had thrust upon her.

Eowyn yearned for battle. She yearned for love. To ride to battle, to be loved, to be remembered, would ease her grief over being left behind, abandoned by those around her. Her infatuation for Aragorn was wrapped up in her admiration a soldier has for a captain. Romantic desire and desire for battle were intertwined.

Both of them were royal shieldmaidens who chafed under the expectations of their sex, and showed great courage in times of crisis, but the similarities begin and end there. Hera, we see, was playful, young, naïve, clever but sheltered, until the events of the film forced her to grow up. Hers was a coming of age story.

Eowyn was cold, despairing, bitter and angry. The events of the movie and the books see her regain the capacity for hope that was taken from her.

Faramir and Eowyn <3

I was out on a ramble with one of my dogs just now, and it really was a nice ramble. Bit of trespassing, bit of ice. Walking right overtop the stream, as it's been quite cold for the past few weeks, though it was relatively warm today. It was along a part of the stream I'd never been along, as it is decidedly not our property, and not conveniently along the road.

So I was out rambling, and came across a very nice tree arch, a bridge, some kind of abandoned tiller thing??? and a couple frozen waterfalls. It was along a very briar and bramble and bush filled section of the creek, though, and I had to get a little creative getting around some of these obstacles.

My dog, however, had no such qualms. He was off darting over and under all these brambles and branches and all such, and often looked back to see why I was being so slow, while I clumsily, cumbersomely, awkwardly crawled under branches or carefully held back thorns as I attempted to step over them.

I felt rather like a parent whose child was trying to show them something, squeezing between fenceposts that the parent had to either climb over or go around, as the child wonders why their parent's being so slow.

And then I wondered if that's how Aragorn felt traveling with the hobbits? He's been in these woods since he was 2, knows every tree and rock and leaf. He knows what he's doing. But they're traveling and there's a briar patch, and he's all ready to tell the hobbits 'alright, we'll have to cut through this. get behind me so you don't get hurt.' ... But they're already darting under and around and through it like Brer Rabbit himself. Pippin calls back 'Strider, you wouldn't even let us stop for second breakfast! what are you doing back there?' And even injured Frodo is skipping through it like a deer, and he's wondering how exactly he thought he was this great woodsman when these hobbits who have never stepped a foot outside of the Shire in their lives are just. staring at him. from the other side of the briar patch. that he can't get through.

AoS + text posts pt. 17/?

John's Passion narrative has a never-ending fascination for me, because it's where you get Jesus at his most divine--knowing everything that was going to happen, making the guards fall to their faces when he speaks the name of God--while the people around him are at their most human.

There's an entire political drama going on. Pilate the Roman pagan getting dragged into this provincial Jewish religious dispute. These Jewish leaders and Jesus providing different visions of truth to a politician who doesn't care what the truth is. There's extremely sharp political back-and-forth between the Roman and the Jewish authorities--the Pharisees trying to force Pilate's hand by saying that everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar, then Pilate backing them into proclaiming Caesar as their king and twisting the knife of pettiness by labeling Jesus as the Jewish king in four different languages while He hangs on the cross.

Petty, personal, political human drama taking up all their attention.

And meanwhile, God is dying.

Good Friday

The more you think about it, the worse it gets.

No part of the Passion Gospel, the Gospel for Good Friday, has any hope.

Even the tender moments – Jesus asking John to take care of his mother, Joseph and Nicodemus making sure that Jesus has a proper burial – they’re just people dealing with the fallout from death.

You know what Joseph and Nicodemus are thinking about while they’re wrapping Jesus’ body up for burial? How much this sucks.

And whether the Romans will stop at killing Jesus. Or will they, and other followers of Jesus, be next?

The more you think about it, the worse it gets.

You know what Joseph and Nicodemus aren’t thinking about? How anything good can come from this.

Much less how God is already using all of it to do more good than either of them, or anyone on Good Friday, could ever imagine.

And yet, you and I know, that’s exactly what’s happening. Because you and I know something that Joseph and Nicodemus don’t know. Not on that worst of Friday’s.

They don’t know that Sunday is coming.

But that’s how it is, when you’re where they are. When you are right in the middle of the very worst.

When you and I are right in the middle of the very worst, there is nothing that human eyes can see to tell us that it’s ever going to get any better.

When that’s where you are, the only open question is whether it’s going to get worse.

In the middle of everything that you are dealing with right now – whether it’s death or illness, divorce or the end of a friendship, job loss or financial problems – while you’re waiting to see whether you’ve hit bottom or if it’s going to get worse. You get Joseph and Nicodemus. You are right there with them.

The more you think about what you’re dealing with, the worse it gets.

There’s nothing that our human eyes can see to tell us that anything good can come from what you’re going through.

And yet, you and I know, that’s not true.

Because you and I know something. Something that’s easy to lose sight of when you’re in the middle. Something that’s hard to hold onto when you’re scared.

But it doesn’t matter. It’s okay if we lose sight of it. Because it’s still true. Even if we’re scared. 

Today is Good Friday. And Good Friday shows us that none of it, not even the very worst, can hold down our God.

Because Sunday is coming.

Today’s Readings