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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 months
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 months
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Sometimes a guy in a fanfiction has the ability to read someone's gaze with the same level of detail a wine taster can taste the wine
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 months
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One of my FAVOURITE ship dynamics to write or read in fics is when two characters are basically already a couple but they just haven't realised it yet. They call each other up at like 3am, they cuddle, they sleep in the same bed, they fall asleep in each other's arms, they hold hands, they practically live together, they talk about having a ~ special connection ~, they just haven't actually kissed or done the do or talked about their feelings yet so they're still both like "but I just don't know if they like me in that way!!"
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 6 months
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nothing bad happened in any media, ever
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 9 months
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 9 months
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why do we romanticize everything except healthy marriage
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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“And they who for their country die shall fill an honored grave, for glory lights the soldier’s tomb, and beauty weeps the brave.” - Joseph Rodman Drake
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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Thorin spam  134 / ? 
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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me @ me:
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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The Wormhole, Part 1
Long time no see, Tumblr friends!  To put it simply, college and real life have been my focus for these past few months and now that things are (hopefully) slowing down a bit for the summer, I hope to maybe scroll this hellsite more often than once a month.  
Writer’s block has also been defeated (for the moment) and I’ve got a fun new story in the works.  This one here is just one I’ve been sitting on for awhile.  Enjoy!  
Character Relationships:  Thorin Oakenshield x Modern!Female OC
Content Warning(s):  Mentions of manipulative behavior from an ex-boyfriend and his appearance.
Summary:  Reverse of the “Girl falls into Middle Earth” trope.  Thorin finds himself mysteriously transported to the modern world after surviving BOTFA and winds up in the care of a New York Academy of Arts teacher, Estel Cavanah.  She has no idea why this man is so incompetent with the day’s technology.  
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“…And as you can see, the honey shade matches up pretty well with Nashville blue.  The darker tones cool the orange.”  I paused to glance at the clock on the other side of the room.  The neon red numbers signaled the looming end of my class period.
Or, by the way my students were shuffling in their seats and surreptitiously packing away pen and paper, perhaps it was more of a couldn’t-come-soon-enough.  
“Seeing as we are almost out of time, I’ll let you all go. See you on Friday!”  I smiled as the room immediately erupted into a flurry of movement.  The students, all eager to head home to relax at the end of a long day, feverishly packed up the last of their things and filed out of the room.  It was almost insulting how quickly they wanted to leave my class.  But I could understand their hurry; I had been a student once, and no matter how much I loved art, sometimes I couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom.
I turned to my own desk to pack up my stuff for the day, only to pause when a knock broke the silence.  Annoyance sprung to life at the thought of having to spend more time here when I could be at home.
Slowly, I turned around, wondering what student had dropped by.  But it wasn’t a student.  The person wasn’t even a resident of the state!
“Zach, what are you doing here?!”  I asked incredulously, unable to believe that the man was even standing in my doorway.  “You live in North Carolina!”  
“I came here to talk with you,” he said.  I shot him a look.  
“Zach, there is a reason phones were invented. Besides, what is so important that you come up to New York without calling me?”  I asked, propping my hands on my hips.  Then another thought occurred to me.  A much darker and more disturbing thought.  “How did you even know where I was?  We haven’t talked since high school!”
Zach just shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked further into my classroom.  “That’s not really important, Estel—”  
“Oh, I really think it is…”
“…I just wanted to see if you wanted to get back together.  I think we made a mistake when we broke up.”  Zach kept walking, and I began to feel the cold chills of anxiety trickle down my spine.  I stepped behind my desk, putting it between me and him.
I really didn’t think he would do anything, but at the same time, it felt like a very real possibility.
“Zach, we dated in high school.  We’re adults now.  If it didn’t work out then, I don’t think it will work out now.  Now, get out of here before I call security.”  I made a show of picking up my cell phone and unlocking it.  
He stopped walking, finally taking his hands out of his pockets to raise them in the air.  “Woah, slow down girl.  Let’s just talk, okay?  Just because we didn’t work out in high school doesn’t mean we won’t work out now.”
“I really don’t think it does…  And don’t tell me what to do, Zach.  You’re the one who’s shown up out of the blue after stalking me!” My finger hovered over the keypad on my phone, waiting to dial the campus police.  
“I’m not stalking you!”  The words burst out of Zach like an avalanche.  Immediately, his face became apologetic, and he took another step towards me.  “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, Estel…”
Instantly, I was brought back to my days as a high schooler trying to figure out both my life and manage a boyfriend at the same time. Everything pointed towards us becoming high school sweethearts.  Then one day the daydream shattered.  I was introduced to just who my boyfriend really was, and he wasn’t the man I had thought he was.  
Early on in our relationship, he’d stood behind me in my goals and dreams.  When I said that I wanted to be a teacher, he told me to follow my heart.  But when the topic came up again a few months later, he wasn’t as supportive.  
To put a long story short, he wanted to get married young and start a family.  My going away to college in a different state would put a damper on his goals.  That made me the selfish one in the relationship.
And he didn’t want that.  He did his best to hold on to our relationship and convince me to stay with him, but in the end I had to be true to myself and follow the path my heart was leading me on.  
I wasn’t sad when it ended; I felt freer than I had felt in what seemed like forever.  And the saying about hindsight being 20/20 was a constant presence in my mind as I went over our relationship.  I noticed manipulative behaviors that I hadn’t picked up on before. I realized how lucky I was to get out of it early.  To be true enough to myself not to give up my dreams for a guy.
Gathering my courage, I slipped my laptop into my bag. “No, I don’t want to hear anything from you.  We aren’t ever getting back together, Zach.  I don’t even know why you would think that.  Now, I have to go.”  Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder.  Holding my phone—keypad at the ready—I marched past Zach.
I left him behind just like I had all those years ago.  No glances over my shoulder for one last glimpse.  I just wanted to go home where I felt safe.  
The walk to my car had never felt longer, even in the broad daylight.  Clicking the button on my fob to unlock it, I pulled open the door and threw my bag in before climbing into the driver seat.  As I sat and collected my bearings, a niggling thought rose in my brain.
If Zach knew where I was teaching, chances were he knew exactly where I lived.  Right down to the apartment number.  
All of a sudden, home no longer felt as comforting. It felt dangerous to go back to, despite how much I wanted to.  And I had no choice.
Scanning the parking lot, I pulled out of my space.
~~~
I showed up early at the stable I worked at part-time, not feeling safe at my apartment.  Coincidentally, it was also owned by my brother who was too busy managing the family estates down in Havana to spend much time managing it.  That job fell to me as his little sister.  
The black sheep of the family.
I could only hope that Zach didn’t know about it. Maybe I could buy a sleeping bag and camp out in one of the empty stalls for the night…  Or text Ash and see if I could crash at her apartment for the night. She wouldn’t refuse me.
At least, not if her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mike, wasn’t around.  Then I really didn’t want to be in the same flat.
Pulling out my phone, I unlocked it and began typing out the message to her when the bugling of a stallion ripped through the air. I frowned, the noise out of place at the normally serene stable.  
Then I heard the screaming.  
Shoving my phone in my pocket and throwing open the door, I bolted out of my car and towards the one pasture that contained a stallion.  The most ill-tempered beast I’d ever had the displeasure of handling.  Although, given that I didn’t get involved too much with horses, wasn’t really saying much.
Quickly catching up to a teen who was also hurrying towards the commotion, I grabbed their arm to stop them.  “Grab a lead rope!”  I gasped before taking off again.  I could only wonder which cocky new teenage boy had decided that he would be the one guy Ferrari—the stallion—liked.  
And exactly how much legal trouble I was about to get into.
Turning the corner to the gate of the paddock, I stopped and did a double take.  The man currently dangling from the mouth of the bay stud definitely was not one of the kids employed here.  Nor did he look like the sort that frequented prestigious stables like this one.  He looked more like a well-kept hobo than anything.
“GET THIS BLOODY HORSE OFF ME!”  The man bellowed, catching sight of me standing like an idiot on the outside of the paddock.  
I snapped out of the daze I’d gone into and looked around wildly for the stable hand I’d stopped earlier.  “Where’s a lead rope!?”
I was answered only by a stream of curses from the man as Ferrari shook him like a ragdoll.  Then pounding footsteps heralded the arrival of the kid with a lead rope.  
Snatching it out of his hand, I jumped the fence and sprinted towards the grappling pair.  “Ferrari!”  I screamed, trying to get his attention on me and away from the unknown man.  “Ferrari!”  
But the stallion paid no attention to me and continued to grind his teeth into the shoulder of the man he had cornered.  
As Ferrari tightened his grip, the man swung at him, calling him a variety of colourful names as he tried to pull away from the stallion.  
I darted in, clipping the lead rope onto Ferrari’s halter.  Then I swatted his rump with the end of the rope to get his attention.  Instantly, Ferrari dropped the man and went after me. Jumping out of the way of his teeth, I waved my hands at the man now crumpled on the ground.
“Get out of the pasture!  Go!”  I yelled at him, dodging Ferrari again.  “He hates men!”  
The man didn’t move, and I began to worry about what it would mean if he was dead.  Probably more legal troubles than if he was injured, that was for sure.  Beckett was going to be absolutely thrilled.  
“Estel, I’ll take him!”  A feminine voice called, and I shot a quick glance over my shoulder towards the stable.  Chelsea—one of the most experienced horsewomen employed here—was jogging towards me.  
As she approached, Ferrari began to calm down.  Chelsea had a way with him that none of the other female employees had.  His ears were stilled pinned tightly back and he danced in place, but he wasn’t trying to bite me anymore.
“Hey, Ferrari…”  She cooed, taking the lead rope from me, and stroking his nose.  Ferrari snorted suspiciously.  “Come here, boy.  Let’s get you inside, huh?”  She pulled gently on the rope and led Ferrari away.
That left me with the unfortunate man who had found himself in Ferrari’s pasture.  As I ran over to him, he suddenly pushed himself up off the ground, clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain.
“Sir, are you alright?”  I asked, dropping onto my knees beside him.  From a distance, he’d looked like one of the bums that littered the streets of New York, but up close was a different story.
He obviously had some concept of hygiene—he certainly smelled nice—and his beard was neatly trimmed.  And as he raised his head to look at me, he revealed startling blue eyes that pierced me with a distrusting gaze.  
“I’m fine.”  He spat in a voice that carried the thickness of an unfamiliar accent.  “Where am I?”
“Blacktop Stables in New York.  Now, I think I should take a look at your shoulder. Ferrari is a man-hater, and it looked like he had you good.”  I reached out to gently pull his hand away from his shoulder.
He let out a short laugh.  “Horses have never liked me.  You have healer training then?”  He asked, resisting my attempts to pull his hand away so I could look at Ferrari’s handiwork.
“If by healer training, you mean medical training, then yes, I know a little.”  He dropped his hand, revealing a slobber-soaked fur vest.  “Umm…  I think I’ll need you to remove your shirt…”  
He grunted, unbuckling the belt that held the vest closed before shrugging it off.  A dark blue, velvet looking coat followed directly after.  The movement of his arm caused him to grimace and let out a hiss of pain.  Beneath it was a metallic sort of shirt that looked like some sort of armor.  He pulled the armor shirt over his head, leaving him in only a blue shirt that reached almost to his knees.  
“Blast…”  He hissed through clenched teeth.  Gingerly, he lowered his injured arm back to his side.
By this point, I felt like I was watching the clothing version of a clown car.  I couldn’t help but wonder if he had another two shirts underneath this one.  
Unbuttoning what I guessed was called a ‘tunic’, his upper body was finally revealed.  And it made the artist in me want to weep tears of joy.
If ever there was a perfect body, he had to have it. Thick, muscled arms hung from broad shoulders.  There wasn’t a speck of fat on his torso to hide the chiseled abs this man possessed. And he was able to make it look like the most natural thing in the world, unlike some of those shirtless male models I had tried to use as inspiration in the past.  
“You said you have healer training?”  
The distinctly masculine voice broke me out of my…reverie.  Quickly, I focused my gaze on his face.  Away from the abs that I was itching to sketch.  
“Uh, yeah.  Let me take a look here…”  I peered at the bite mark on his shoulder.  Ferrari had left him deep indents of his teeth, but the skin hadn’t been broken.  Already I could see the purple bruising characteristic with horse bites forming in a wide circle around the bite marks.  His excessive layers of clothes had saved him from a much worse injury.
Not that he wouldn’t go through hell in the coming weeks.  Bites of this severity literally made you unable to move the arm without excruciating pain for weeks.  
“Will I live?”  The question was quiet, and I glanced up to see a whisper of a smile on his face.  Oddly, I got the sense that this wasn’t an unfamiliar question for him to ask.  
“I can almost guarantee you will,” I shot him a small smile.  “Just put some ice on it, take some ibuprofen, and try not to use that arm much for a few weeks.”
He frowned.  “Ibuprofen?  What is that?”
The fact that he was unaware of one of the most basic over-the-counter drugs was baffling.  Everybody knew what ibuprofen was!  
“It’s a medicine you can take if the bite hurts too much.  And from what I’ve heard, a bite like yours hurts like hell.”  I explained, leaning back on my heels.  “If you aren’t able to get any, I could give you some.”  
“No, I’ve had worse than a horse bite.”  He dismissed my offering.  “Now, you said we were in someplace called New York?  Is that on the Anduin?”
I stared at him.  “The Anduin?  I’ve never heard of that.  New York is a state in the United States.  East coast?”  
The look I got back told me he’d never heard of any of it.
This whole thing was weird.  First he showed up out of the blue in Ferrari’s pasture.  The same pasture that had seven-foot fencing supplemented with electric wire and was surrounded by private ground.  And somebody would have stopped him inside the stable.  
Second, there was the whole deal with his clothing.  It looked nothing like anything made today. That and he wore armor.  To be quite frank, it didn’t even look like it was from this world.
Third, he had never heard of the US before, and he was living in it.  
Or maybe I was turning into one of those off-the-grid hippies who believed in UFOs.  There had to be a logical explanation for all this.  It wasn’t like he actually had come from a different world.  That was preposterous.
He probably just hit his head or something when Ferrari was slinging him around.  I reasoned with myself.  He’s probably just a little confused right now.
Standing up, I motioned for the man to join me. “Follow me and I can get you a bandage for your shoulder…”  I paused, waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Thorin,” the man supplied with a nod of his head.  “At your service.”
“Estel, uh, at yours.”  I fumbled, hoping I hadn’t just entered into some deal with the man.  Turning around, I took one look at the stables and felt my heart stop beating in my chest.
Zach was standing at the gate of the paddock.
“Oh, no….”  I whispered, frozen in place.  I’d felt so sure that he’d had no idea that I worked here.  Beckett certainly didn’t advertise by using me.  “He followed me…”  
“Is something wrong?”  Thorin asked from behind me.  I looked back over my shoulder at him, taking in his broad frame. He had his clothes bundled up in his arms, hiding his torso from the world.  Dark brown hair sprawled across his shoulders, untamed by any sort of hair tie.
“Um,” I looked back over at Zach.  He was staring at Thorin; a small frown on his face as he took him in.  Automatically, I began formulating my “it’s not what you think” speech in my head.  I knew what it looked like.  A man and a woman out in a field, alone.
Except…That was exactly what would get him off my back. If I was a taken woman, he couldn’t come after me.  
“Thorin, I know this is asking a lot, given that we don’t know each other, but I really need you to pretend you’re my boyfriend. He,” I nodded over in Zach’s direction, “is my ex from a long time ago and he’s been stalking me, trying to get back together.  I just need you to pretend for like a day and then we can part ways.”  I pleaded, looking up into light blue eyes.  
Thorin stared back at me, then glanced up to look at Zach.  “You don’t want his attentions?”  He asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, I just want him to leave me alone,” I sighed. The defeat I felt over my helplessness must have carried into my voice, because the iciness began to fade from his eyes.  
“You’ve told him this?”  His voice took on a gentler tone.
“I made it very clear, and he obviously didn’t listen.”
“Then I will pretend to be your…boyfriend.”  He agreed, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  Instantly, his tough, rough-hewn aura faded to be replaced with a sense of security. “He will not lay a finger on you, Miss Estel.”
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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your desire to write the same trope over and over again
🤝
my desire to read the same trope over and over again
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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have y'all seen demi adejuyigbe's review of twilight on letterboxd
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I'm weeping
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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Thorin Oakenshield
Portrait Study
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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historical inaccuracies in period dramas are okay as long as i like them
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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*english professor voice* and here we can see how meyer has decided to portray purity through the cullen’s clothing… with khaki…
*clicks to next slide* and here we can see how the pack is being signaled as ‘the others’ with their clothing choices… the sinful denim…
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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In which Doc has my favorite reaction ever to Marty being Marty.
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 10 months
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do you ever feel like you love a character more than their own writers do
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