The House Of Finwe (first Gen) As Bizarre T Shirts

Can i share something that happened to me last year

I'm minding my own business and this guy who I kind of know but wouldn't really consider myself friends with (trauma bonded on a school trip last year and haven't spoken since) comes up to me like hey, what are you doing? And I say: world-building the ancient history of Lord of the Rings. And then I proceed to tell him all about the various genocides of the first age, with a side note on Maedhros' Quenya name, which literally means 'the hot redhead who's third in line for the throne', with his mother name meaning 'hot damn', his father name meaning 'third of the king's name' and his nickname meaning 'redhead'. Then I explain that loads of elves get nicknames, like Gil-Galad and other people who I can't remember.

And he goes cool, can I have an elvish nickname? And I say sure, what do you want it to mean?

And he goes: big daddy

and I don't know what's more embarrassing: a) he thought that, b) he asked that, or c) I could translate that off the top of my head.

Elizabethan Husband: Belovéd wife? Elizabethan Wife: What tis't, my husband? Elizabethan Husband: Where lies my Raiment of Power? Elizabethan Wife: Pray speak again? Elizabethan Husband: Where. Doth. My. Raiment. Lie? Elizabethan Wife: 'Tis, uhhh, stowéd. Elizabethan Husband: Whence dids't thou stow it? Elizabethan Wife: Wherefore doth thy heart cry out to know? Elizabethan Husband: More dearly than life do I need it! Elizabethan Wife: Nay, faithless rogue, conscious thou no swift flight to battle - marry, for two months hath this feast been contrivéd! Elizabethan Husband: Peril and doom lies over the sweet Christendom! Elizabethan Wife: Peril and doom lies over this sweet evening! Elizabethan Husband: Balk not but tell me where my Raiment lies, tyrannous wretch! Of the greatest duties of honour and goodness do we speak! Elizabethan Wife: O, "the greatest duties" - spew not such dotage, for I am thy wife! I am greatest of thy duties of goodness!

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Look yonder! Someone has writ upon that ceiling that thou art most easily gulled!

Elizabethan Peasant 2: More fool they, for I cannot read.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: *sighing, lowers his visage unto his palm*

The Fetts as bizarre t shirts

you and me both, boba. you and me both

Yo the language of the fans is getting advanced

Popular with the troops.

Just thinking about that one extremely autistic trans homie who once gave me an excruciatingly detailed 40 minute infodump on the evolution of historical infantry firearms. I think he'd love to have a WWI McClintock Bangalore Torpedo gun attached to his person at all times - it'd really match the whole 'white British grandpa aesthetic' that he's somehow accidentally cultivated since the tender age of 15.

No no hear me out - BobaDinLuke but Boba is Elizabeth Swan and Luke is Jack Sparrow. Din is still Will Turner he’s perfect no notes.

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

Fuckin pigeons warbling their bastard drunken coo-coo-coo right in my ear at 5am on Sunday in every goddamn season no matter what fucking continent I'm in. Gotta rank them right beside seagulls, slugs and 13 year old boys as my absolute least favourite creatures on God's Admittedly Kind Of Ok Earth.

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.

Lemme do some quick googling