arespectablehalfling

[arespectablehalfling]

do you like a person who is gentle? do you like a boy who works with orphaned children, trailing the scent of cookies and baby powder all the time? do you like him a sad, hopeless romantic who just needs a shoulder to cry on, or company to have tea over on lazy Sundays? say no more, for Kieran is your soft boy who has so much love to share.

about the boy º general rules for all

[arespectablehalfling]

ringbearer:

@arespectablehalfling liked for a starter

               frodo, grass in his hair and dirt in his nails, walked happily into his home of bag end after happily being out in the eastfarthing woods for a few hours. frodo, like all young hobbits in their tweens, loved to explore.  ( within the confines of the shire, of course. )  frodo was content reading a book, climbing the trees, or walking by the river. 

               he had entered bag end, and heard the same sound that was there when he had left:  the sound of a quill scratching over paper in the study. frodo smiled as he quietly entered the study to see bilbo poring over pages of the book he was working on.  ( the secret book  -  the one that wasn’t finished, and therefore frodo could not look at it. )  

               ‘  still working on the book, uncle bilbo?  ‘  frodo said softly, trying not to startle bilbo. frodo made an attempt to stand beside bilbo and read some of the loose pages.

The hobbit spent most of his days quiet in his study, writing away in his books or studying maps and journals tucked in his ever stuffed shelves. He was writing more though, recalling the days of his past adventures. He wasn’t sure whom will have a fancy to read it after it’s finished, but he had a good guess that his darling cousin will be the first to.

He smelled the scent of leaves and wild flowers first before he hears Frodo enter his smial. Before the boy enters the study, he was quick to close the journals and put the papers away, feigning done for the day’s worth of work.

“As ever I do, boy. You must remember to be patient with a writer who’s still writing their book,” he chides the hobbit gently, wiping his fingers clean of ink stains. “And how was your adventure today? I hope your Took cousins did not try to rope you into sneaking another poor hobbit’s farm again. Come, I think some tea is due,”

[arespectablehalfling]

chainsxwsmile:

The waters in this forest were, suffice to say, different. Vastly so than the gentle, lulling current of Brandywine or the wide, crystal clear waters of the Anduin. And if it was any indication of the sea beast being present in the former’s waters, it was quite evident that Bruce was not quite as experience a traveler as he had hoped; traveling down the coast and up an inlet too soon and having to backpedal against the current grew tiresome after the second try. Fate steered the sea beast into the right river on his thrice attempt- third time was the charm, wasn’t it?- which led the twenty-foot sea beast past The BrownLands of which would provide little cover for a creature his size, and north towards the west side of Mirkwood. And while impatient the Cetus had grown with his journey to the Sea of Rhun, he knew better than to go any further north than was necessary. Easy as it was to let the current of the Anduin carry him, too far north would bring him to the Grey Mountains and further than he needed to be. 

As uncomfortable as it was to traverse the land on foot than by water, the rivers weren’t steering in the direction Bruce wished to travel. And that wouldn’t have mattered if such a time exposed to the dry and blinding air was brief. However, there he was in the midst of the vast forest inarguably and undoubtedly lost. The pitiful pools- Bruce hadn’t dare called them lakes and a creek was barely a comparison- provided some relief. Above the water, Bruce’s senses were dulled. The electroreceptors along his snout and lateral line picked up vibrations of movement much easier in water than in air. And in such an unfamiliar territory? That was enough to put the Cetus on edge. 

So when an unfamiliar creature approached the side of the pool in which the Cetus was resting, submerged and hidden from view, Bruce reacted as any tired, anxious sea beast would. 

He lunged.

Not at the creature. No, that would have been suicide, for who was to say the creature hadn’t claws like himself, or a sword? Some weapon to puncture Bruce’s soft underbelly? No, attacking outright wasn’t the most intelligent thing to do. Bruce lunged, but only upwards. 

The pool erupted as if a geyser sprung from its depth. Water spilled in a heavy downpour, and claws the size and sharpness of meathooks sank into the bank. The enormous Cetus landed with a deafening thud! upon the ground, his weight shaking the branches of the trees in the vicinity. A gaping jaw opened and four of his eight rows of serrated pearly whites glistened in the patches of sunlight that escaped through the canopy. As water poured from the Cetus’ soft-spined hide, Bruce’s two beady blue eyes narrowed, staring warily at the creature before him. 

The hobbit gave a shriek at the sudden surprise, scrambling back wards as fast his furry feet could push himself. Whatever had tried to jump on him, and such a peaceful looking spring of all things? Definitely not an orc or spider, it did not make the sounds of such creatures- oh, but this creature had such a jaw and large body, it frightened the Shireling to complete silence.

“Oh bother!” Bilbo curses as he noticed his water skin slipping into the spring with the large fish flapping about. His fingers itched to unsheathe Sting from his belt, but curiosity got the best of him. He’s never seen such a fish before! And he’s gone to many fishing trips back home. What would Gandalf do?

“Oh, blast it, Bilbo Baggins.. and I had hoped troubles won’t come looking for you again, in Mirkwood, of all places,” he sighs, still keeping a far distance from the creature.

[arespectablehalfling]

"Master Hobbit i presume?" (kingofthemirkwoodelks)

“Oh!” Bilbo jumps, nearly dropping his gardening shears. The gardens of Bag End was beautiful as ever, and Bilbo was about to trim the rose bushes. “My lord Thranduil, this is unexpected.”

[arespectablehalfling]

[arespectablehalfling]

do you like a person who is gentle? do you like a boy who works with orphaned children, trailing the scent of cookies and baby powder all the time? do you like him a sad, hopeless romantic who just needs a shoulder to cry on, or company to have tea over on lazy Sundays? say no more, for Kieran is your soft boy who has so much love to share.

about the boy º general rules for all

[arespectablehalfling]

crxwnxfagxny:

  To dwell on the past was something the Elvenking found himself stuck in. For nightmares and terrors haunted him, Elvish mind unable to forget anything seen and heard throughout the many years of his existence. Pointed-ears paid close attention to the Halfling’s words as a frail hand held tight to that of a cup two times as small as his normal goblet. Nonetheless, he was thankful, a drink was needed after ones long journey to the Shire.

  Body craved that of wine, for ancient bones once licked by that of Serpents flames ached, yet his agony remained silenced as warm tea was slowly slipped from porcelain cup. Feren stood close at his side, as he always had, sipping his own cup slowly. “The past is unforgettable yet forgivable in every since of the word, Master Baggins. Difficult it is, however, to truly forgive.” Celestial hues lingered on the Hobbit before him within the coziness of the Hobbit hole he had stepped into.

  Food upon silver platter remained untouched by the King’s hand, appetite not coming into play as pain raged through ancient bones, his figure however, never shifting to give away internal physicality. With gaze continuing to linger on the Halfling, it became obvious with Bilbo’s expression that the past too did haunt him just the same. “You miss him, I can see it in your eyes. Your friend. The King beneath the Mountain who never was.”

Bilbo busies his hands with spreading some cream on his helping of the sweet cakes, eyes cast low as the elven king spoke. He gave a small hum in reply, a smaller shrug, as he bites into his treat. It was true that the past is unforgettable. Goodness, Bilbo sometimes finds himself awake late into the night as he writes, trying to recall the details of his adventure with the company into his journal. He missed supper plenty of times because of that, sleeping at very irregular hours. Sometimes he finds himself looking to his door, hoping that a dwarf or two or thirteen will come knocking, looking forward to eat the entirety of his pantry again.

Those nights are often the loneliest he felt.

His eyes close momentarily, as Thranduil reminds him of Thorin. With a small sigh of breath, the hobbit dabs at his mouth with a napkin, folding it neatly. “He was and always will be, a king of his people, with or without Erebor,” he says quietly, eyes drawing out to the windows, watching the flowers of his garden gently sway in the cool breeze. “I do miss the dwarves, and I find myself hoping they’d come around for tea soon. By Yavanna, I do dislike it so when they trudge mud onto the rugs or eat all of the cheese in the pantry, but they are all the closest friends I’ve had. Yes, I do miss them, and I miss Thorin too.”

[arespectablehalfling]

@chainsxwsmile

Lost again, and in Mirkwood of all places! Given that the elven king had let himself and Gandalf spend a night (and only one night, under strict watch of his guards to ensure no mischief was done) in his kingdom, Bilbo had hoped that continuing their journey back to Eregion would be uneventful. But those spiders still lingered, and some orcs had made encampments throughout the ill woods.

Separated from the old wizard, Bilbo finds himself following a flowing river. He comes upon a clear spring, with an opening large enough that it lets in much needed sunshine. The hobbit sits by the water with tiredness in his shoulders, refilling his water skin after making sure that the water was clean and safe to drink. He was unaware of the other presence in the waters, though, as he proceeds to wash his face clean of sweat and grime after fighting off a few hungry spiders.

[arespectablehalfling]

i will try to be more active on this blog in the coming days, though i can’t promise much. i’ll be heading back for college as september comes, and i do have the feeling that most of my time will be busy due to finals.

i hope everyone has a good year ahead from now on!

[arespectablehalfling]

thepotentkxng:

  Little things surrounded him, the size of children, no taller than that of hip as the Elvenking made his way through the Shire unexpected. No announcement had been made of is forthcoming, bringing all the more surprise to the creatures that inhabited such a land full of gorgeous greenery. Questions pricked at pointed ears, listening closely as the King’s personal guard followed close behind him. Rare was it for the Elvenking to travel alone, his trusted friend always at his side.

  Such scent of sweet cakes caused nose to twitch. Such a sweet smell was one the King had long since forgotten. Finally, however, as the other was ushered into that of a tight space, the King voiced his retort. “Uneventful, I do not believe that is the right word to display. Your kind seem to have a habit of staring, do they not?” Bent at the waist the King attempted to maneuver through small space, keeping his head duct low to prevent knocking his circlet from his head. 

  Nonchalant gaze found the Hobbit quickly, as he took a seat in a chair almost to small for his hips to fit in. “Cozy.”He remarked, icy hues glaring at objects around the room in curiosity yet, disapproval. To him, clutter was unwanted, but since this was not his own home that laid many days away he remained silent. “It has been a long time since our last encounter, Bilbo Baggins.” He remarked, chin tilting towards that of the heavens. 

“Ah, yes. That is one thing unavoidable if you are an unfamiliar face in the Shire,” Bilbo winces, unable to imagine the amount of staring Thranduil and his guard received from his neighbours. No doubt that they’ve begun to tattle amongst themselves about the elves visiting Bag End.

“Tea? I just had these cakes baked by Old Gaffer’s wife- her butter cakes are the best with a bit of cream and jam. Please, help yourself,” he offers with a bright smile, always the one to not feed his guests, especially if they’ve come far on a long journey. The clutter of books and maps on the table was quickly put away before he brings in the food on a tray- warm cakes cut in neat cubes, a jar of fresh cream and berry jam. The tea he pours into porcelain cups, passing one to the guard and the king himself.

He gave a small whine of discomfort at their last encounter. “Well, it’s in the past now. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if we rekindled relations? My mother always told me that it’s not good to dwell on the bad things of the past.” After all, even that Bilbo gets nightmares and mood swings from recalling the horrible war, he knows that the past cannot be changed, as hard as he wishes it so.

[arespectablehalfling]

@withinthewccds​ with baby frodo!!

“Hold him for a moment, please,” the hobbit deposits the fauntling into the elven prince’s arms, before hurrying into the kitchen to make Frodo’s lunch. It was one of those days again where Primula trusted him to babysit the boy as she and her beloved husband went off to treat themselves in Hobbiton, no doubt with shopping and a good lunch. Bilbo’s smial now had a clutter of toys and milk bottles adorning desks.

Frodo gave a funny look at Jace, blowing spit bubbles as he swings his legs a little. “There’s a good boy,” the hobbit returns with the bottle, easily scooping the faunt back into his arms, Frodo immediately suckling on his lunch. “You haven’t held baby faunts much, have you, Jace?” he asks the prince with a smile.

[arespectablehalfling]

do you like a person who is gentle? do you like a boy who works with orphaned children, trailing the scent of cookies and baby powder all the time? do you like him a sad, hopeless romantic who just needs a shoulder to cry on, or company to have tea over on lazy Sundays? say no more, for Kieran is your soft boy who has so much love to share.

about the boy º general rules for all

[arespectablehalfling]

Lord of the Rings + tumblr text posts~

[arespectablehalfling]

@thepotentkxng

“It’s not always that Bag-End has elvish guests, but I am honored. I hope your journey to the Shire was uneventful?” the hobbit welcomes the elven king into his home, the smial smelling of sweet cakes baking away in the kitchen, along with the soothing scent of well-kept wood and old books wafting from corners of the home.

Because of Thranduil’s tall height, Bilbo knew it would be uncomfortable to be standing for so long, so he ushers the other to the sitting room, where plenty of chairs are. 

[arespectablehalfling]

@thepotentkxng @sindaran

[arespectablehalfling]

dxrins:

@arespectablehalfling ;;

“Stop fussing!” 

         Thorin bats the hobbit away with the back of his hand – despite          the irritation lacing his tone, he shoves the hobbit away with a          gentle hand. The Dwarven king lays, recuperating from the          horrors of battle. He has been forbidden from walking by healers,          and is fast growing tired of being confined to his bed.

         Though he reclines among the finest furs and silks, what truly          eases the passing of time is the company of the halfling. And          although Bilbo might fuss and worry, both of which grate on          Thorin’s patience, Thorin is thankful for the company nonetheless. 

        “If you truly wish to be of any help, stop tugging at my bandages          for a moment and fetch me my pipe.” With that, he folds his arms          across his chest and leans back into the plush pillows supporting          his back. Thorin looks like a petulant child, he’s acting like one too.          Impatience and an itch to help nags at him. After all, a king should          be serving his people and bettering his kingdom, not stuck in his          chambers.  

“You are testing my patience, Thorin!” Bilbo huffed, hands on hips with a pout on his mouth. Despite everyone around him telling to settle and take the rest he deserved after the horrid war, the hobbit had restless feet. And on his feet he went, helping the tired healers with the wounded, or passing out food to the people who needed it (dwarf, men, and elves Thorin, please do not give me that look), and tending to the king of the mountain himself.

Other hobbits may call him Mad Baggins, but Mad Baggins had a talent in healing. Why, he’s learned to brew his own salves and athelas potions from his books! And he intended to use his own recipes to help his fellow dwarves. The brothers Princes were obedient enough to sit still and let him mind their wounds, with the promises of honey cakes and muffins they loved so. Thorin was proving to be quite a grump in bed, and as much as Bilbo understood why, he just wished that the dwarf would behave.

“Gandalf said no pipes for the next week. You received that blow on the chest, it needs to heal,” the hobbit puffed, reaching for the bandage on the king’s arm again, swiftly securing it. “Please, Thorin, you need to spend the next few days in bed to get better. You wouldn’t want your kin to see their king limping when he’s before court, do you?” he raises a brow.

[arespectablehalfling]

Wedding dance! ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:* \❀(*´◡`*)❀/ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I love drawing dancing Bagginshield.

(Here’re the other ones :D  1 / 2 )