#Bilbo just wouldn't have noticed

[im-secretly-a-frog]

Thinking about what hobbits think of shoes.

They don't wear them, they've never needed them. Hobbits rarely venture outside their hometowns, and their hometowns are populated exclusively by Hobbits in most cases (correct me if I'm wrong) so most of them never see shoes in their lives.

So, therefore, would they be freaked out by shoes? Would they simply accept this as a weird thing that outsiders do? Like I feel like Merry and Pippin would have bothered their traveling companions with questions about them. "What are you wearing on your feet?" "Why are you wearing those?" "Are your feet weak?"

And then Sam would just assume that those ARE their feet. He would be so freaked out as soon as someone took off their shoes, but he wouldn't mention it to anyone but Frodo. Frodo, being the way he is would have figured out exactly what shoes are and what they're for, though he would still be perplexed as to why anyone would need them, and he would try to explain to Sam. Sam of course would still be freaked out, but would believe him.

I've spent far too long thinking about this.

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 1: Alternate Universe

Previous Chapter: Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Your unexpected arrival in Hawkins brings many questions for Eddie...but he knows better than to ask dumb questions.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Love at First Sight?, Tiny Angst if you Squint, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, unbelievable pacing...just roll with it, Everything's Coming Up Munson

Note: Thanks to everyone who read the prologue.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It seemed like everyone was there to say goodbye.

Your parents, Sam, Pat, Bonnie, all of your friends and their families. Everyone you know.

What a surprise.

You thought it was gonna be a quick morning getaway.

You'd already had dinner at Danny's last night with your parents and had seen countless faces—familiar and unfamiliar—who'd wished you well. This morning was just supposed to be about bags placed in the trunk, last minute hugs and tears from your mom, and then off you'd go.

You hadn't expected this.

Some little voice inside of you questioned why you hadn't; you'd known them all for practically your whole life.

5 years.

What...no...18 years.

Why wouldn't they want to be here as you embarked on your big journey away?

Sam gave a tearful speech. Your dad made some corny joke that only a dad could, one that had everyone in uproarious laughter--more laughter than people, it seemed--and then it was time to go.

You didn't have a real schedule, of course, you just wanted to make it to your destination with ample time. Nothing like driving into an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night only to find yourself in a heap of trouble.

Pat, ever observant, was the one to notice the anxiety etched on your face. He was as much your best friend as Sam was, maybe even more than she was; you'd known each other since Kindergarten, sat next to each other in the reading circle, of course he could tell you were itching to leave.

"Alright guys," he announced, clapping his hands twice the way a star quarterback would. "I'm sure she's ready to get away from all of us."

"Yeah," Sam let out a watery laugh. "You need to go so you can come back as soon as possible. Wink wink." She flashed her hand with the little diamond chip engagement ring that you helped Pat pick out, and then she collapsed against you in a hug.

"You go and you have the best time," she whispered in your ear. You nodded and buried your face in her hair. "I can't wait to hear all about it. Write letters home? Call? But don't worry about us, we'll all be safe here. Ok?"

"Yeah," you said breathlessly.

Then the next thing you knew, in the blink of an eye, you were in the driver's seat of your car, rolling towards the end of the block. You adjusted your rearview mirror and saw everyone you loved waving goodbye to you. You rolled down your window, and blew them a kiss and sent a wave; you'd miss them so much. You'd be back soon enough though; now it was time for you to just be free.

“Go back?” you quoted one Mr. Bilbo Baggins to yourself as you turned the corner and left everything you knew behind. “Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!”

This was it.

Eddie was dead.

That had to be the explanation.

Your car was one thing, and he could excuse it. He could convince himself it was anything else.

But you? His favorite character from his favorite television show. Someone who was absolutely, definitely fictional.

It was impossible.

"Hey!" you called out to the Mayfields with your voice, your your voice and not Rosemary Glass's voice. Your real voice. Yours.

Eddie pinched himself pretty unforgivingly—one last ditch effort to prove this was a dream—and winced.

Not dreaming. Definitely dead.

You quickly shut the door and crossed the distance towards Susan and Max.

"I'm sorry, it's late and it's cold; I've been driving all over and the road got icy, I must have lost traction. Need new tires maybe."

"Too bad," Susan snapped at you. "You hit my car, I'm calling the sheriff."

The two of you went back and forth for a second as you tried to get her not to call the cops and she stood her ground.

"I can pay for it!" You exclaimed suddenly and Susan froze in her spot. "And then some, for...I dunno, emotional distress I guess. I know it's late. I'm sure I woke you guys up. I'm just...I'm sorry."

You looked around self consciously all of a sudden, and Eddie could hear the faint murmur as you said something under your breath. He froze as your gaze slid over him, paused, and then kept going.

Play it cool, Munson. Don't pass out. Don't fuck this up.

It was hard when the love of his life was standing right there, in the flesh, and had just looked at him.

As Susan and Max met you in the middle of the yard to talk details, Eddie gave himself the pep talk of the century.

Even if he was dead and this was some sort of afterlife, surely the fates had certainly set this up for him. Some being of greater conscience than he--a mere human--could possibly comprehend was giving him this chance at...love? Happiness? It would be a good reward after an unremarkable end to a shitty life.

Or maybe he was still alive and had actually sold his soul to the devil back inside and this was the payoff.

"I'll fucking take it," he muttered to himself and fished another cigarette from the pack with shaky hands; he was gonna need it if he was gonna survive the night.

He watched the interaction between you and Susan with a keen eye, eager to witness the little gestures and mannerisms that he'd only seen on screen. Once it seemed Susan was happy with whatever deal you'd negotiated, you pulled a scrap of paper from the back pocket of your jeans and gesture vaguely around. Max was the one to snatch it from your hand and then point to a dark trailer that sat kitty corner from Granny's.

Were you gonna be his neighbor? This was just getting better and better.

"Thanks," you smiled and, even from this distance, Eddie's heart stopped.

If he was barely hanging on thanks to your presence, how was he gonna survive your smile? Especially if it was inevitably directed at him.

"Pull it together," he grumbled and took a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry flaring extra bright in the darkness of night.

The Mayfields retreated into their home and you shuffled back over to your car, feet kicking the gravel.

You were about to get back in when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. God he was pathetic. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could.

His thoughts raced at lightspeed now, a mixture of logic and hope. No matter the circumstance, you were here because of him, which meant that this was his shot. So, he would fix your car--or at least try to--figure out if you were some sort of demon or something, and then ask you out.

Easy.

And hopefully you'd say yes. Hopefully. Eddie was gonna be optimistic, but not an idiot. He had to stay humble.

As you maneuvered your car the short distance to the dark trailer, Eddie watched. And in the glow of your taillights, he noticed the abundance of bumper stickers that adorned the trunk. Stickers that weren’t there in the finale, which meant…

"She got to have her adventure," he said to himself in awe, happy that...at least in the few months since you left Port Geneva, you might’ve gotten to experience the world just like you wanted to.

He couldn't wait to ask you all about it. He couldn't wait to find out everything.

The morning took way too long to arrive.

Eddie tried to sleep but he was too wired, too excited.

He already decided that he was gonna skip class the next day. Or maybe roll in late if you had someplace you needed to be and he wouldn't get to show you around town or something else totally not lame.

That’s what he was banking on, though. If you had no plans, he could take you to Benny’s and get you a short stack with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, just like you got at Danny’s Diner back home.

“Alright,” he stared at himself in the mirror as he stepped out of the shower. “See? You can’t do that kind of shit. Can’t scare her away by making her think you know her already. That’s creepy. Gotta act like we don't know her. Easy.”

Not that easy, actually.

He was just...bubbling with thoughts and feelings. Enough that they caused his brain to go into meltdown.

At first, he tried to rationalize it all, tried to come up with some solution. Because somehow, for reasons to be determined at a later time, you left the confines of Port Geneva’s universe and made it to this one, where you were actually definitely real.

Right? You couldn't be a hallucination if the Mayfields had talked to you too. In fact, they talked to you first. So if anything, you were their hallucination.

Eddie tried to recall something that Henderson and Sinclair had babbled on about at lunch the other day: some new issue of the Flash comics. Crisis on Infinite Universes or something where people jumped to different timelines. Whatever that meant. If he had the time, he knew he should ask them a few questions about different universes and how this might all be possible.

Purely hypothetical, spin it as some idea for a campaign.

But why would he wait and let a good thing pass him up just because this was weird and he had questions?

Best case scenario, no one beside him would realize that you were a tv character, they would just think your name was familiar or something.

Worst case scenario they accuse him of witchcraft and bringing you into this dimension or something because there was no way you were real.

It would all work itself out in the end. He just had to be uncharacteristically optimistic and keep his eyes on the prize.

Come morning, Wayne got home from work and he walked in the door just as Eddie had changed clothes for the fifth time, made coffee AND breakfast for him, and washed the dishes.

“Well isn’t this a surprise,” he remarked and stared at the scene in front of him. “Do I wanna know what you did?”

“You remember when I was younger,” Eddie began as he fiddled with his rings. “And I asked you…I dunno…something about the birds and the bees and you said ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older kid?’”

“Hmm,” Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and ran a hand over his mouth. “Go on.”

“It’s nothing bad but, uh, I’ll tell you when you’re older Wayne.”

His uncle cracked a fond smile, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then shuffled down to the bathroom.

Eddie sighed in relief and took a sip of his coffee while he looked out the window towards your trailer. It was daytime now; he didn’t expect to see lights on or anything, but he knew you got in late and didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. Not a great first impression.

Before long, though, he’d just gotten too antsy to wait anymore. He practically sprinted—damn when was he gonna learn that he shouldn’t skip gym so much—across the park to your door, Wayne's meager toolbox from under the sink swinging from his hand.

He paused the slightest bit to admire your car--

How many hours of screen time had been spent in this exact car as you drove Sam and the gang around for various shenanigans. There was one episode, a favorite of his, where everyone was belting out a tune from the radio and you sat there in the driver's seat...too shy to open your mouth. When they finally coerced you? You had the worst singing voice...but you smiled so brightly...that was the moment he knew he loved you...

--and, more importantly, the stickers that adorned it.

There were some normal ones: funny phrases, a few band stickers he wouldn’t have expected you to listen to, and a single borderline political one. A sticker that specifically caught his eye said “Greetings from Erebor” with a sword that had to be Orcrist and dwarvish runes below it.

You were a girl after his own heart; fortunately, it already belonged to you.

Then there were the ones you’d obviously picked up on your travels. He took an extra moment to look at them and think of some questions he could ask. A favorite place you visited, something crazy you might have eaten, or even some fun facts about...Monument Valley, Ocala National Forest, Mystic Falls Virginia, or…Cicely Alaska?

“Damn,” he let out a low whistle. “Must've put some miles on this thing.”

Having spent enough time just standing there, Eddie finally climbed the stairs and knocked on your door; the walls were thin enough that he could hear you shuffling around inside and he was relieved that he hadn’t woken you.

The door swung open--Eddie swore he heard the applause track from Port Geneva play in his head--and then there you were.

It was a moment he would cherish in his heart for the rest of his days. You, standing there, smiling that sweet, unsure smile at him with slightly tired but nevertheless bright eyes. Your clothes were askew from sleep or aforementioned shuffling and you straightened them out a little when you realized what you might look like.

“Cigarette porch guy,” you pointed a finger at him in recollection after a moment.

Now was the time, though, to muster up every ounce of Munson Magic that he could. He collected it deep in the core of him and then let it mingle with affection in his heart.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father. You can just call me Eddie."

You snorted a laugh and he beamed confidently; that confidence, however, fled his body as he felt the urge to hop around, giggle, and say "I know" when you introduced yourself. He needed to not screw this up by being a hyper mega-fan.

“I was so tired when I got in, I honestly thought you were a figment of my imagination,” you explained. "I woke up at like...4am trying to figure out if you were real or not."

Funny. He was trying to figure out the same thing.

Still, his heart skipped a beat to know you'd thought about him in any capacity after the few words you'd shared.

“Ouch,” he laid a hand on his chest and feigned a stumble. “I know it was late but I would hope I made a bit of a better impression than that.”

You pressed your lips together, scrunched your nose, and looked down at your feet.

“I’m, uh,” Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. “Here to take a look at your car.”

“Oh!” Your head snapped right back up. “Right! Yes, oh my god thank you. Let me just…get my keys and my shoes hang on.”

You retreated back into the trailer and Eddie, nosy as he was, peeked inside after you. Wayne would be ashamed of him, but he couldn't exactly care right now.

Your trailer mirrored other ones in the park, in terms of layout: a living room, a little kitchen, a hall that probably led to a bedroom. There was furniture though, which was not the norm.

A green armchair and a very well-worn blue plaid sofa that was home to a granny-square quilt, a too-soft pillow, and a very fancy canvas bedroll that Eddie assumed must have belonged to you. There was a dusty coffee table stacked with dustier magazines and newspapers and some very questionable looking mugs and plates of what used to be food. Yuck. A green bicycle with one tire was hung vertically on the wall beside the couch. And a little dining set off the kitchen looked like something straight out of the Brady Bunch.

He tried to remember who lived here before you did with such weird taste in furniture. Even more peculiar, where they might have gone for them to leave all of it behind. Especially the plates. No one came to mind though; he'd have to ask Wayne.

You shuffled down the hall--presumably from the bathroom since you'd slept out on the couch--and hopped as you tugged your sneakers on.

You jingled your keys at him excitedly.

"Here we go," you exclaimed. He held his hand out to take them and you were about to drop them in his palm when you hesitated. "I hope I'm not putting you out."

"Of course not," he reassured you and then backed out of the doorway. "It's my pleasure."

You listened aptly as he touted his excellent mechanic skills--

"You, uh...might hear my van rumble a little bit though. Haven't quite figured out why it's making that sound yet."

--and then you sat on the porch steps to watch him as he got to work.

The two of you talked as he inspected your car.

You were surprisingly very good at making conversation. Eddie always believed that you were a little soft spoken or a little shy, watching you on tv. However, as you spoke so excitedly and confidently and he saw you bloom in front of his very eyes, he wondered if it was just a byproduct of being overlooked whenever Sam took the spotlight with her grand speeches, big emotions, and too-bright personality.

He was suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing the real you and learning a lot more that wasn't shown on TV. In return, he could show you the real him too. Hell, he was always trying to be the real him...there were just some things though...

What an odd idea that hadn't really hit him until now. The desire to have you in his life to share things with, and the reality of having you here. He'd never thought of a relationship with a future before, hell hadn't even thought of his future really. Not even with Paige and the whole rockstar pipe dream, as short-lived as that was.

But the more he thought of that with you, the more he liked it. Desired it.

You started the conversation off by asking him about Hawkins and if he'd lived here for long. He gave probably the most unbiased opinion that he could as he hammered out the dents from your collision: it was a sleepy suburb where nothing ever happened and everyone was judgmental and opinionated and hated everyone who disturbed the status quo.

“Aren’t they all like that?” You asked, one eye sliding shut in a mischievous wink as you raised both brows in question.

“Yeah, I’m sure they are.”

Then he asked you about how you ended up in Hawkins, of all the places you could have picked, as he taped up the headlight that you'd cracked.

"It was fate or something. Had to bring me here so I could meet you right?" He sputtered over a response to that and you just laughed. "Actually, I just picked a place on a map. Pick two places. Flip a coin. That's how I pick most places I’ve been, you know?"

You took the opportunity to spin a tale about the so-called "perpetual roadtrip" that you'd embarked for the past year. His heart soared to hear that you’d been “practically everywhere” and he nodded eagerly when you offered to show him your sketchbook sometime with drawings of your favorite places.

"I know I need to go home at some point," you explained with a dismissive wave of your hand. "I guess I just don't know how to...stop driving. I've started this thing recently where I settle down somewhere for a little while. Maybe a few weeks? Maybe more. Get a job, get to know the people. Then I get to like...the final page of that chapter--the end of my little story in that place--and it's time for me to move on again.

"Actually, I guess it's not moving onto the next chapter; it's more like I've been written into a corner. I just...don't know what it is that I'm looking for. What it is that I need."

Eddie snorted to himself.

How many times had he asked himself what deity wrote his story into a pathetic corner where he couldn't leave Hawkins? And here you were feeling the same, only you were stuck in another way.

"Well...I hope you don't move on from Hawkins too quickly," he said, full of naive hope. "Maybe you'll find what you need here."

"Hmm," you rested your chin on your knees and sighed. "You know what? I kinda hope so too."

There was a lot of weight in your gaze as you watched him, and Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and continued his inspection of the outside of the car so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself with a mushy smile or a giggle.

He made his way back to the trunk and the bumper stickers; it was then that he asked about Cicely.

"Alaska? Seriously? You drove all the way up there?"

"Ok listen," you said with a conspiratorial grin. "I'm maybe a little bit of a phony. I traded someone for that one. This guy in a diner in Washington."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Damn fine cup of coffee." You snorted to yourself, some inside joke that he wished to be a part of.

"Is that, uh...a perpetual roadtrip thing?"

"I…I guess it is."

Finally, to end his self-proclaimed "ten-point inspection," Eddie got into the driver's seat to start the car, chatting all the while.

"Well, if you want a damn fine cup of coffee, there's this diner nearby that I swear makes the best. I know I haven't driven past Chicago or anything but..."

He trailed off as he turned the key in the ignition and noticed the odometer.

Your miles were in the millions.

Several million, at that.

He had half a mind to call you on your shit that you'd never been to Alaska because, surely, you had to have been with that high a number, but then he began to question the sight. He didn't think his odometer even went that high; none of the cars he'd ever seen went into the millions.

Was it just a Volkswagen thing? Or maybe a bi-product of you being here? A wrinkle in the fabric of reality?

Eddie tried to do the mental math but he couldn't figure out how many times you must have circled the states to hit that many miles. Or for how long.

A million miles divided by 365 days divided by 12 hours of driving in a day? He couldn’t do that much math without his head hurting. Still, it just didn't make sense. Maybe it was just broken?

"Everything alright?" you suddenly appeared at the door, teeth worrying your lower lip. You laughed but it didn’t quite meet your eyes. "You were just saying something about coffee and then you got all quiet. I don't need a new transmission or something do I?"

“You…” Eddie swallowed and stared at you, wondering if he should point out the odometer, if he should ask. Bur hadn't that been his problem just a few hours ago? Too many questions, too little time. Why was he going to pick this wonderful thing apart when he finally got what he deserved and yearned for all along.

“You...probably need an oil change,” he announced instead. “It sounds a little clunky. I, uh, can do it for you but I’ll need to stop by Thatcher Tires for some supplies.”

Your shoulders lost their tension and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Eddie, you’re seriously trying to be my hero, huh?” You fawned; hearing his name from your lips, let alone the fact you called him a hero, made his day. His year. Possibly his entire life. “You wanna fix everything else that’s wrong with my life?”

“I could try,” he offered eagerly.

“Don’t, I’ll seriously take you up on the offer.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks then looked back at the trailer. “Ok tell you what, give me like…20 minutes to get the road off of me and change. Then we can go to Thatcher Tires and you can show me this place with the best cup of coffee? And I can get you breakfast or something?”

Eddie was speechless again; were you…asking him out? Ok no you were just showing your gratitude, but it was a first step. Was everything going according to plan for the first time in his life?

He couldn’t count everything that happened in ‘84 for obvious reasons.

You noticed his hesitation and your eyes went wide.

“Unless you had other plans or someplace to be? I’ve already taken up enough of your time—“

“No!” He shouted and then backtracked to be a little softer. “I…no, there’s nothing else I have to do today. I’m…I’m all yours sweetheart.”

The rest of the day went by without a hitch.

And it truly was the rest of the day that you spent together.

It was almost too good to be true.

Eddie acted as chauffeur and self-proclaimed tour guide of Hawkins. He pointed out specific landmarks you'd need to know as he passed them: the town center, the grocery store, the post office.

"In case you want to send letters home or anything." He glanced your way slyly, hoping to maybe get some excited response about your friends back home, but you hummed noncommittally and turned your attention to the radio instead.

The rest of the ride to Benny's was spent swatting at each other's hands and bickering as you discussed music. When he mentioned that he had a band, you were awestruck, and Eddie's chest puffed with pride.

"Ok," you nodded appreciatively. "I see it now. The whole alt. metal wannabe rockstar thing. It suits you."

"You're gonna take back the whole wannabe rockstar thing when I write a song about you and it's a chart-topper," he teased.

"What's it gonna be about? My loser neighbor crashed her car, she held me hostage at the...dine-ar." You winced at the bad rhyme, but Eddie thought it was adorable. "Obviously I'm no Shakespeare. Please don't consider that my interview to be your songwriter."

You'd surprised Eddie by ordering an omelet instead of your usual, so Eddie, quick on his feet, ordered your usual instead and surprised you.

"Are you a mind reader? I always get that," you confessed. "I was just so tired last night, I figured I needed something a little more substantial."

Once the food arrived, though, you stared longingly at Eddie's strawberry and whipped cream covered pancakes. He took mercy on you and slid his plate to the middle of the table so you could take a few bites. You mirrored him with your own plate and he snagged a couple of bites of eggy, hammy, cheesy goodness.

You butt heads good-naturedly when it came time to dress up the plate of hash browns that came with your omelet. You wanted to keep it simple with salt and pepper, while he wanted them doused in ketchup. Back and forth, your forks clinked against each other's chosen condiment, over and over, until it was a veritable sword fight over the side dish.

"Stop it Eddie! They're so nice and crispy, don't ruin them."

"It won't ruin them. What are you saying right now? That you just don't like ketchup? You're breaking my heart."

"Some things are meant to be enjoyed in their pure and undisturbed state. Keep your filthy tomato goop away from my potatoes!"

The two of you laughed all the while, and Eddie swore it was the most fun he had outside of Hellfire in...quite some time.

Benny, who was also amused by your antics but not enough to listen to it for the rest of the morning, decided enough was enough and brought another plate of hash browns, "on the house if it'll prevent a food fight," before he retreated back to the kitchen.

The trip to Thatcher Tires was quick, and then the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon outside of your trailer again, chatting away as Eddie changed your oil. You sat on your stoop and doodled in your sketchbook as he regaled you with stories of his friends and his favorite haunts around Hawkins.

Granny had come out at one point to say hello and promised a welcome-to-the-park casserole, but after she left you noticed how he'd gotten a little sad and asked him what was wrong.

Eddie told you about Ronnie then, how much he missed her. How it was like missing a whole...bite had been taken out of his side when she finally left for college.

It felt like the easiest thing in the world--telling you everything and having you listen--because he'd already done it before, so many times. Only now, you were able to respond; he could look over and see you smile or laugh at one anecdote or another. Or offer some advice about your own friends who you missed. You didn't even judge him when he mentioned he was on his second repeat senior year; you just told him about your own story as an almost-drop-out.

You understood. You saw him. Just like he knew you would.

At some point late in the afternoon, as the sky began to take pink and orange hues and people started coming home from work, Eddie reluctantly called an end to your day together.

"I took up all of your time," he admitted bashfully, hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm sure you have a million things to take care of."

"I mean yeah," you shrugged. "But one day won't hurt. And it was a really good day."

"It was."

"Thanks for everything Eds." You immediately made a face and he laughed. "Eds? No. Ed...Eddie. God, sorry, I hate the whole figuring-out-the-nickname thing. So weird. Thanks for everthing Eddie."

"Yeah don't mention it," he chuckled.

It was a real midwest goodbye as you loitered at the bottom of your steps, prolonging both of your departures. A promise to bring over that tape he said he'd let you borrow, or to come share in Granny's proffered casserole when you finally received it.

Then finally, when you were practically in the door of your trailer, you turned around and stared at him, worrying your lip with your teeth as you often did.

"You know, I wasn't the valedictorian or anything, that's my best friend Sam," you shuffled your feet and paused for a minute. "But if you ever need help with homework or anything..."

"Yeah," he agreed a little too quickly, eager to get more time with you. "No, yeah...that sounds...great."

"I'm pretty good at history," you went on. "I have a crazy memory, you wouldn't even realize."

"No that sounds great, I'm, uh...failing history right now, actually," he admitted.

"Perfect! You know where to find me."

"It's a dat--study session!" He caught himself quickly, but not quick enough. He felt the heat building in his cheeks as you covered your mouth in a giggle. "Ignore me. Ignore that. I'm just gonna go...yeah."

And then, it was like in the movies. The angels were singing, birds chirping, the slowly dying sun beamed brightly on you as you opened your mouth and said:

"It can be a date if you want it to be. I had a lot of fun today, so I, uh, think that would be pretty great actually."

It was everything Eddie ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed.

A real date. With the real, very real, definitely not fictional girl of his dreams.

He smiled the biggest smile he ever had, big enough to rival a shark, that's how happy he was.

"It's a date, then."

Next Chapter: Out of Character

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[lonicera-edulis]

For the character ask if you're still taking: Thorin 18, 24, 29, 30? :>

18. "How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)" - He and his younger brother were a team of rascals. But gradually Thorin became more serious and anxious teen while watching after his goldsick grandfather.

24. "What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?" - I am not sure, there are many probably. Maybe some unpleasant encounter with Men in Bree when he worked there. But he probably would share this with Dwalin at least 🤔

And with what Balin's actor once said Thorin didn't keep his crush on Bilbo to himself as well it seems asdfghjk

Maybe something involving elves then? Okay, I just thought of something funny. What if he met an elf (who was moving to Grey Havens and dwarves didn't know why exactly elves go there). But the elf was also bad at directions. To make it more natural for Thorin, who would just ignore the elf asking to help to navigate in these lands, we can put them in a situation, like they were ambushed by goblins.

So they got out of it, but were off the road. Had to team up to find the way back, and it took them some time, which was unfortunate for Thorin who was holding serious grudges on elven kind. When they finally found the right ways, they just separated without a word.

I thought that it would be even funnier if that elf was very similar to Thorin in appearance and personality. And Thorin experienced some uncanny valley affect. Of course he wouldn't like to talk about it.

29. "How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)"

Why is the question in brackets so funny? Like, yes, apparently the character is a parent canonically, but what if we reimagine this? Why? xD

I think he was already used to caring for babies when Kili was born, and was good enough parental figure until Fili and Kili became older and he had to become distant.

I am not always up to Parentshield, but he would be good with small Frodo, better than Bilbo. Like in Ruto's comic, I like how Bilbo is portrayed there, annoyed and confused, but Thorin is collected enough. Bilbo is good with teen Frodo though.

30. "The funniest scene they had?" - There are so many. Seems even more than with Bilbo, to me at least. He is like an epic tragic hero on the screen, but people notice some goofy stuff. I will put the links to posts I like:

This moment when dwarves were captured by trolls.

Whatever this was.

Cursing while being jailed in Mirkwood.

And I love this bit from the book too much...

[thorin]

i wrote a little something that i have no idea if i'll continue, but i just really wanted to write a bagginshield fic through kíli's point of view, i thought it'd be fun. so enjoy!

tw: a bit of angst, mention of blood, but nothing too graphic, or excessive.

Contrary to popular belief, Kíli was not stupid.

He knew there'd been something going on between his uncle and Mr. Baggins the second he saw him break a smile —which was already suspicious— at Bilbo at the Carrock before hugging him —even more suspicious— after he'd defended his uncle from what was certain death.

Now don't get him wrong, he was more grateful to Bilbo than he could ever say. He saved Thorin's, and Fíli's, and his life too many times to count. He'd stayed after the battle had died down, and helped the healers, elven and dwarven alike, tend to the wounded and bury the fallen. He'd spent his entire days helping Bombur cook food at the makeshift camp they'd set at the base of the mountain, and when he wasn't cooking, he was stealing peaches and apples from the elves' food carts just for him and Fíli when they were bedridden. And he'd sit beside Thorin and wait for him to wake up when his nephews couldn't be there for him.

Kíli really liked Bilbo. He'd grown on him, all of them, truly. He just couldn't believe someone so small could be so brave, and feisty!

Which is why he was extremely confused when he'd heard Bilbo would be going home after Thorin had woken up.

His first reaction was that he felt abandoned. How could a member of their company simply choose to leave after all they'd been through together? He almost shouted his disagreement, before Fíli took his arm, shaking his head, and looked right at Bilbo: tear tracks on his dirty face. Maybe he wasn't leaving by choice.

He looked to his uncle, sat up against the wooden bedpost. His jaw was set and his adam's apple bobbed, as if it were physically hurting him to not speak up. His eyes were transfixed by Bilbo's back, like if he tried hard enough, his eyes could tell Bilbo all he wouldn't say.

Understanding flashed through Kíli's mind in a second. But it was too late. He tried speaking up again, aware of this new piece of information that he'd uncovered, but Thorin wouldn't have it. And it was frustrating Kíli greatly, because he'd never heard his uncle, his brave, tenacious uncle, speak with such a small, hoarse voice before, and say that if Bilbo wishes to leave, then he is free to go, with his blessing.

None of it rang true. How did no one notice? Why wasn't anyone saying anything?

By the time he'd looked at Bilbo again, he was already out of the tent, backpack on his shoulders.

Kíli was not proud of how he acted. He'd shouted at Thorin, painfully aware of his uncle's feeble health, but unable to contain his grief: he'd killed hundreds and seen another hundred killed, he'd almost lost his brother and uncle, and almost left his mother all alone in this world, and now his friend was leaving him, leaving them all. He'd fought relentlessly for months, why couldn't his uncle fight just a little longer, a little more? Why wouldn't he fight for his family like he said he always would?

Oin kicked Kíli out of the tent the second he saw Thorin's bandages become red. He was horrified. He'd never dream of hurting Thorin, but everything felt wrong. He'd never once cried on this journey. Not when his uncle was knocked unconscious by that foul orc, nor when he'd lost the rune stone given to him by his mother. But now he couldn't hold it in. It all came pouring out as someone —his brother, surely— held him, kneeled down on the ground. He wept until the stars came out.

────────

Months had passed ever since Azsâlul'abad was reclaimed. The harsh Eastern winter had finally given way to spring's sunshine rays, and although the mountain's citizens couldn't say they lived an easy life, they had food and a roof over their heads, which was more than they'd had for years. More and more dwarves were coming home from all over Middle-Earth, as word of Smaug's death was starting to spread. Reconstruction was slow, but steady, and life had shaped itself into a vibrant routine under the Lonely Mountain.

Kíli and Fíli had been crowned princes, and Thorin had been crowned king. His mother had finally come to join them on a caravan she lead from Shahrulbizad, and each member of the company was appointed to some sort of important position in the king's court. It was difficult for Kíli and his brother to get used to their new lives as royalty and the responsibilities that came along with it, and Kíli was grateful for any moment of respite he could have away from the eccentric Iron Hills nobles and Balin's royal classes. His days all looked the same, and yet he found he just couldn't get used to this new life.

Thorin, Kíli had noticed, clearly felt the same, though there was no running away for him. For any person that didn't know his uncle, they'd think he looked perfectly normal, if only a little stern. But Kíli knew that look. It was the same one he'd wear on his face when he attended feasts, sat at his throne, silent, while everybody around him drank and laughed. Or when he attended meetings with the court. Or when he watched Bilbo leave, a winter ago.

Kíli was not stupid. He saw how much his uncle suffered, and how much every single member of the company missed their friend. He missed Bilbo, too.

Which is why he sent a letter adressed to Bilbo Baggins of Bag End in the Shire, pretending to be Thorin II, King Under the Mountain, begging him to come back.

Surely that would solve everybody's problem. Right?

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey its me who asked for your The Unexpected Guest, and it was brilliant! I love the idea of part 2 it makes more sense!

I loved your idea of once they get to Rivendell Thorins and readers feelings are explored and some spicy stuff happens

Thank you, and love your work!☺️x

(I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I'm really sorry for the wait for part 2 - uni work, work work and writer's block are not a great combo and I didn't want to rush this (this part also got WAY longer than I thought it would), plus I've made some minor edits to part 1 since I wasn't totally happy with it - been a hot minute since I wrote smut so I hope this is ok :D thank you all for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!)

(link for part 1 - warning for NSFW content below, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

ghivashel - treasure of all treasures, amralime - my love

An Unexpected Guest pt.2 (Thorin x AFAB!fem!human!reader)

The journey to Rivendell was taxing on all of you, though you couldn't help but feel most sorry for Bilbo. The hobbit was so new to adventuring - you doubted he had ever been out of the Shire before now - and you had decided to support him wherever you could as a helping hand. Just helping him set up camp, saddling his pony in the morning, offering him water, little gestures seemed to make a difference in his demeanor.

Spending time with the hobbit to keep his morale up, especially after the troll attack, did mean that it was getting harder to find a spare moment with Thorin. The two of you had spoken much more frequently since his confession, and you wished for more time, but the whole group was in poor spirits as it was. While they were all happy for you, public displays of affection were just likely to irritate everyone further. And Thorin's burden of leadership would likely not be eased while you were still on the road. For the moment, all you could do was keep moving and offer comfort to whoever needed it.

Needless to say, arriving at Rivendell was a weight off your shoulders. Even if the dwarves tried to pick a fight with Elrond.

You had all taken your time to settle in and relax, having taken full advantage of the elves' hospitality (and you were forever grateful for being able to feel clean after the long journey). When the group of you were provided with dinner and the inevitable food fight broke out, you were happy to see how everyone's spirits had been lifted. However, you couldn't help but notice your One stood to the side. There was a content smile on his face, but you could easily see the tension that still bristled through him.

You soon found him after everybody had retreated to their rooms for the night. It was hard not to hear him - the pacing in his room seemed to echo through the hallway, if only slightly. Raising your hand, you softly knocked at the door, hoping that he wouldn't be too stubborn to talk to you.

"Come in."

Even his tone of voice betrayed his stress. He visibly relaxed when you entered the room though, shutting the door behind you, and you felt glad to at least be some comfort.

You smiled in greeting, and spoke softly. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I assure you, I am fine. Do not trouble yourself."

You closed the distance between you hesitantly, giving him the chance to back away, and took his hands. "Please, Thorin. I can see something is troubling you."

"I am just... concerned. About the future of this quest, about everyone's safety." You saw a struggle in his mind of not wanting to be vulnerable, but he seemed to give in, and sighed in defeat. "I fear that people are going to be hurt because of me."

"Oh, my love..." you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. "You are the best leader any of us could ask for, and I promise you that you will not be the cause of any hurt."

He gently pulled back and looked into your eyes. "You truly believe that?"

"Of course I do. Those in this company are strong and intelligent. Perhaps with the exception of your nephews," you chuckled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. "They are all capable of making their own decisions. They knew the risks of coming along, but they have all chosen to join anyway because they saw a courageous dwarf that they wanted to follow."

"I only want to do right by my people."

"And you will. We all have faith in you."

He pressed his forehead to yours again. "You're far too good to me, ghivashel," he murmured.

"All I want is for you to be happy, my love."

And with that, you tilted your head up and kissed him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones as you pulled him closer. It wasn't rushed and clumsy, as it was when Thorin first confessed, but slow and loving, every movement of your lips against his a confession of love in itself. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you flush against him, trying to feel as much of you as possible.

When you separated to take a breath, meeting his lust-filled gaze was all the encouragement you needed.

"I wonder if there's any way I could relieve some of your stress..." Your tone was playful as you slid your hands achingly slowly down Thorin's chest, and you heard him inhale as you stopped just at his hips.

"Amralime, are you sure? If we start I will not want to hold back."

"I trust you, Thorin." You smiled and nodded towards the double bed. "And we may as well take advantage of the luxury while we have it."

He smirked. "I'm beginning to think you came here just to bed me."

"Hey, I would never-"

Your sarcastic reply was cut off by him kissing you again, with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before. Maybe you had awakened something long kept under control, but any coherent thought of that was soon lost when he shrugged the furs off his shoulders and his fingers found the hem of your shirt.

Soon becoming restless feeling him trace the curves of your waist, you broke away from the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt off. Thorin did the same, and after some hurried fumbling between more stolen kisses, you were both undressed. His hands never left your body as he backed you up towards the bed.

"You are so beautiful, ghivashel..." he murmured, lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the sensation, but when he tried to sit you down on the bed, you stopped him.

"Tonight is about you, my love." You turned the two of you around and gently pushed him back to sit down, taking the time to admire his toned body as you knelt in front of him.

Thorin's eyes were wide with surprise and he almost looked as if he wanted to protest, but the twitch of his already hard cock gave him away.

"You... you don't have to-"

"I want to." His breath hitched when your lips traced his thigh, and you smiled. "Relax, my king..."

Any further protest was soon lost when you leaned forward and licked a long stripe up his length, wrenching a gasp from his lips. Your movements were slow, mapping out every inch of him with kitten licks until he was writhing impatiently before you, until you were done teasing and sucked his tip into your mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of breathy groans and muttered Khuzdul that you could barely focus on as you continued. Thorin twisted his fingers into your hair when you began taking him inch by inch into your mouth - his grip was firm, but never controlling - and when you started bobbing your head he was certain that he must've been dreaming.

Looking up at him and pressing your thighs together to suppress your own arousal, you watched his head tilt back in ecstasy every time you pressed your tongue flat against his tip when you rose. The sounds he made were so beautiful that it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself. Fortunately, it seemed you wouldn't need to for much longer. You felt the tension in his body increase with every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue, and as your movements grew faster you wrapped your hand around the base to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Yet, when you next looked up at him, he gently pushed you away, denying himself climax.

"Is everything alright, my love?"

He leant down for a brief kiss, still breathing heavily, and nodded. "That was... incredible." He took your hands and guided you to stand, then pulled you closer to straddle his lap.

"Then-" You inhaled sharply feeling his lips and teeth over your throat. "Then why didn't you let me finish?"

Thorin didn't answer for a moment, too busy creating a cluster of pink marks along your neck. When he was satisfied with his work, he tugged your hips down to press his hard length against you.

"Because I want to finish inside you, amralime."

You simply nodded, feeling too flustered and on edge to offer any sort of response beyond a whispered, "Please..."

Thorin stood up holding you, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, and carefully laid you down in the center of the bed. He slotted himself between your legs and wasted no time in moving to prepare you. Pausing to receive a nod of consent, he slid one thick finger into you, and you gasped at the sudden feeling. He soon added a second when you began rocking your hips against his hand impatiently, begging for more.

"Patience," he chuckled. "I do not want to hurt you."

"I don't care." You moaned breathlessly with every curl of his fingers. It felt like so much already, but still not enough. "I need you now, Thorin."

"Who would I be to deny my queen?"

He withdrew his fingers and you immediately pulled him forward to kiss you, a soft gasp being pulled from you when he ground his hips against you, ever so lightly pressing against your clit. Holding himself up over you with one hand, he used the other to guide his tip to your entrance and, swallowing your cries in the kiss, he slowly pushed into you.

His hand found yours and your fingers intertwined while he waited for any signs of your discomfort to fade. It was an uncomfortable stretch to fit his thick cock, but it soon became a welcome sensation, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him on.

He moved carefully at first, until your cries of pain became cries of pleasure, and soon his hips snapped back against you much more firmly. Each thrust hit so deep inside of you, filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers gripped your hips almost tight enough to bruise. You clutched onto him tightly, trying to stay grounded amongst the sensations. One hand was buried in his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, the other was digging into his back, leaving scratches that you were sure would last a few days at least. Though it didn't seem to bother him - every time you dug your nails into his back, it seemed to be encouragement, and he relentlessly kept up his pace. It was firm and deep, but never rough, though part of you wondered how hard he would go if you asked.

With each thrust, you bucked your hips to meet him, trying to get more friction to ignite the coil of heat growing in your core. Thorin's moans soon grew louder, despite him trying to remain as quiet as he could, and when his rhythm grew unsteady his fingers slipped down to circle your clit as his teeth latched onto your neck again.

"Ghivashel..." he murmured, his voice strained. "I'm so close..."

Your mind was spinning with pleasure, and you felt yourself reaching your peak as well. "I am too..." you panted.

His hips shifted just enough to hit a spot inside you to make you see stars, and along with the attention on your clit and your neck, it was enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on him tightened as the coil snapped and heat spread through your body, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your cry of pleasure.

It seemed to last forever, and in your pleasure-filled haziness you registered Thorin also growing tense, and you heard his deep groan as he reached his climax and came inside of you. He felt so perfect, and you both stayed clinging onto each other, lost for breath, until you both came to.

Still catching his breath, he kissed your forehead and pulled out to lie next to you, and you couldn't help but whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He lay on his side, facing you, and brought your hand up to his lips. "You are so wonderful, amralime."

You smiled softly and shuffled closer, putting an arm over his waist and tucking your head under his. "So are you, my king."

You glanced back at the door to the room and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should lock the door next time."

[mlmxreader]

Kingslayer | Thorin Oakenshield x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Thorin

21 "I have spent a lifetime alone... and now I know I'll never be alone again"

36 "It's where I come from"

37 "You can take a lot of things from a man" ❞

: ̗̀➛ When Gandalf hires a sellsword, Thorin takes a liking to them a little bit much.

: ̗̀➛ mentions of murder

: ̗̀➛ @vampiboi

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You were used to being alone. All your life it was all you had ever known; a cold bed, a quiet room, an empty chair opposite your own. All you had ever known was the cold hand of being alone, and it had become something you had grown numb to; you didn't take any notice of it anymore, as if the chill had become naturalised within your system.

You never knew what it was like to have somebody there with you; you never knew what it was like to be loved and to feel the warmth of home. Home was just some distant rumble amongst the clouds that you didn't understand; you laid your boots wherever you stayed for the night, and never stayed for long either.

Your talents as a tracker and a scout became useful to many, and when you met Gandalf, you were suspicious at first; with his thick grey eyebrows and the brim of his grey pointed hat covering his eyes, you could never be sure what great secrets he kept hidden within his long silver beard.

But money was money, so you agreed to lend him your sword for a while. A skilled fighter, you weren't exactly an uncommon sight amongst other sellswords; but for whatever reason, Gandalf chose you. He hired you for your sword, your tracking abilities, and your scouting skills; you never questioned any more of it, until he handed your contract over to Thorin Oakenshield.

"You're to obey his commands, now," the tall and booming wizard told you. "Thorin will see you are payed fairly."

Money was money. You didn't mind so much. Whatever gold your sword was worth, you weren't one to question who paid for it, or how. You had done many things for some coin in your pocket; slaying orcs, clearing out trolls from caves, destroying goblin nests, slaughtering spiders.

It was all the same to you. Loyalty was not your forte, and Thorin seemed to know that; you were distant from everybody else, and even when the Dwarves were destroying Bilbo Baggins' hobbit hole, you stayed outside. Guarding the door. Just like Gandalf, you were prone to wander and to scout ahead as much as run off to track down something to eat.

But every command Thorin gave you, you executed it without hesitation or question. His money was good, and he was a man of his word. While the others slept, you would stay up, guarding them and watching over them until dawn broke; you didn't have to, but if your employer was to be killed in his sleep, you wouldn't have anyone to pay you.

Gandalf would check in on you on occasion, but whenever he spoke to Thorin about you, he would receive nothing but praise. Thorin had a soft spot, it seemed, and it made the old wizard smile as he nodded along; it was why he had picked you to begin with.

After all he had heard from your previous employers, not only were you perfectly skilled and qualified for the adventure, but you were exactly the type that Thorin liked.

But as the others slept, Thorin couldn't; he knew where you would be, on the edge of the camp that they had made and smoking your pipe, and dragged himself over. Sitting beside you on a rather large rock. He noticed your sword, and the words engraved upon it in your own language; Kingslayer. He raised a brow.

"Kingslayer?"

You nodded. "I killed a king with this sword."

"Why?" Thorin asked, assuming that there must have been a good reason for it.

You shrugged. "He was killing children. Ordering his men to kill them as they slept in their mothers' arms. So I drove my sword through his chest until it came out the other side."

"Were you paid?" He questioned.

You shook your head as you let out a soft laugh. "No. I was paid to kill his second in command. So I did. But when I saw the order... I killed him, too. A bonus, I suppose. Compensation."

"That was noble of you," he said quietly. "Do all sellswords have morals?"

You glared at him for a moment with a raised brow. "No..."

"And what about you?" He asked. "If I offered to pay you, would kill children?"

"I'd have one question," you told him.

"Go on."

"How much?" You asked.

"You can do it yourself, but you don't like it when Kings do?" He asked.

You shook your head, clicking your tongue. "A king who gives the order should be the one to wield the sword."

"And what about me?" Thorin mused. "I give you orders."

"You pay me," you huffed. "I don't give a rat's if you're a king. Money is money."

"And what of loyalty?"

You scoffed. "I'm loyal to the highest bidder. I have no home, no banner, I have no king. I have nowhere, except whoever pays me the most."

"What if I were to buy your services permanently?" He asked. "Would you have a home, a banner, a king, then?"

"You couldn't afford it," you scoffed. "A sellsword is one thing, but a tracker and a scout are another - my rates are higher each day."

"I'm sure I can afford it once I take my home back," Thorin said assuredly. "Your skills are impressive, Kingslayer, you would do well as a guard."

"A guard?" You chuckled. "No one's ever asked me about that before."

"I'm sure no one else has seen how brave you are before," he admitted. "I could give you your own home. You would be your own master."

"But still employed by you," you pointed out.

"Would you consider it?" Thorin questioned.

"If the money was good enough," you agreed. "Thirty gold coins a day."

"I can afford it," he agreed. "Come here."

You stood up as he did, sheathing your sword as you followed him up the small hill, he positioned you in front of himself, and pointed over your shoulder.

"That mountain over there," he started, "it's where I come from. It's my home, and once we reclaim it, you will be my guard. My right hand. You will be in charge of my armies and my affairs. For forty gold coins a day."

You hummed, clenching your jaw at the closeness. There was no doubt that Thorin was beautiful; his dark hair with a spattering of grey here and there when you looked close enough, blue eyes that made sapphires look dull, and his voice... his baritone, thunderous voice.

You cleared your throat as you took a step aside, holding out your hand.

"I will hold you to your word," you warned.

"I'm a king," he chuckled, shaking your hand. "You have not just my word, but my family's honour behind it."

You smiled, still holding onto his hand. "I have spent a lifetime alone... and now I know I'll never be alone again."

Tugging you closer by the hand, Thorin smiled back as he nodded. "You will have me... and I'll forge you a new sword - one of the finest steel and with the sharpest blade. It will cut a dragon's throat."

"Like a black arrow?" You asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "You will shed your Kingslayer title."

You smiled as you laughed softly, shaking your head. "You can take a lot of things from a man - a title earned by action is not one of them."

"Believe me," he whispered, allowing his gaze to drop to your lips. "You won't be the Kingslayer for all time."

[lonelyvermonster]

There, But Never Really Back

TW: Mentions of death and PTSD

While watching The Hobbit I began to think about what it must have been like for Bilbo after he returned home. The books and movies don't talk about the trauma. How much of bilbos life must have been different after the quest. The other hobbits talk about how reclusive he becomes in his later years, but I want to know more from bilbos side.

How terrifying it must have been for Bilbo the first night he slept in his own bed; finally safe again, only to awake screaming. Blood and fire and dead blue eyes haunting him. I wonder how many years it took Bilbo before he no longer carried Sting everywhere he went. How much longer still before he stopped needing to check to make sure that horrifying blue glow didn't come back. It may not have been present in the books or the movie, but Sting gained a permanent place next to Bilbo's bed.

It didn't take long for Bilbo to pull away from everyone else but it's only because how could he possibly expect them to understand. How could the innocent hobbits who have never known war and death be able to understand the haunted look in his eyes? How odd he must have seemed. The only Hobbit who wouldn't eat any stew at the gatherings and parties. The only Hobbit who shrunk away from hugs because being grabbed was no longer comforting.

Do you think the first time someone tried to pull him into a hug he was overtaken with fear, Thorin's name slipping from his lips?

Do you think Bilbo noticed the way people would stare at him? The Hobbit's may have noticed him pull away, but I don't think they noticed the rest. They may have heard about trolls and dragons, but they didn't know about the sickly little creature he found in that cave. They didn't know about the nights he would wake up frightened, eyes searching for the shadows for Gollum. His neighbors didn't notice how he froze up the first time he heard a little hobbitling ask for some "eggsies". He still spun the occasional riddle but there were some he never repeated again.

Then there is the protectiveness that often comes from the trauma of watching others die.

How odd it must have been for Merry and Pippin's parents to watch Bilbo fiercely defend them against those who disapproved of their pranks and yet in the next breath berate them for the danger they put themselves in. The first time the boys got hurt bilbo could barely stand to see them; the image of two young dwarves who he had loved like family all his mind could see.

God how much worse that must have been when Frodo came along.

Dark black curls and bright blue eyes. Just close enough to haunt him. When that little hobbitling came into his life, how much of his decision to take him in was because he looked like Thorin? How many nights did Bilbo peak his head into Frodo's room to reassure himself that Frodo was alive and breathing, rather than laying on a stone slab? He protected him the way he could not protect his dwarf. Yet he also never bought him a single piece of clothing that was blue.

He filled that hobbit hole with greens and yellows and browns. Never blue. That color was perhaps the deepest tie to the pain he carried. Blue fabric, blue eyes, blue light; all capable of spiraling him into a pit of hellish memories. There were days he could not even bear to go outside because even the blue of the sky was too much.

Because at the end of the day Gandalf was right.

Bilbo was not the same, and he never would be again.

[streets-in-paradise]

Work of Love - Sam Gamgee x (Fem) Hobbit!Reader

Lord of the Rings Oneshot

For @barclaysangel

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Summary: In an attempt to confess your feelings for him, you gift Sam the first finished proyect of your newest learned craft.

Note: Short cute piece written in a rush of inspiration in one sit directly inspired by a conversation with my friend. Also, i remembered crochet is Middle Earth accurate because the first Hobbit film said so lol

Learning all the uses a hobbit lass of good family could need wasn't an exahusting task, but your mother wasn't always a patient teacher. Her fast knitting could be hard to follow and that made lessons turn out a little boring. She was brillant at her craft and admiring her beautifull pieces tended to make you feel frustrated with your own slow progress. Noticing and understanding your feelings, at some point she switched tecniques and help you try some crochet points. There was a considerable improvement in your confidence with the needle, but to her the problem was somewhere else.

Distractions, your head was always on some cloud and she could tell you would rather be at Bag End hearing the ramblings of crazy old Bilbo Baggins than focusing on your lesson. Ever since you started frequenting his nephew through persistent invites on his part you were acting different. Some would imagine that the tales had gone to your head, but she suspected of something else.

A crush, perhaps in the lad whose fate was inheriting the great riches of Mr Baggins. After all, Frodo was a polite and good looking young hobbit that seemed to have gained great interest in you lately considering the frecuency of his invitations. Clues on her perspective made it a logical assumption to make, but it was far from the truth.Despite Frodo was always pleased with your company, he didn't want it merely for himself. One way or another, you would always end up involved with his gardener. At first, producing encounters through his iniciative, but very soon on your own liking.

Sam was lovely, of delightfull manners and handsome looks. Ignoring the way his face would transform whenever you were near was impossible and it even earned you both some subtle teasing from Bilbo himself. The lad had the tendency of respectfully shying away from crossing glances and you could swear you saw him blush to an innocently delivered compliment you once gave him once. The way in which Frodo, his best friend, would always insist on finding new settlings for you to spend time together was suspicious enough for you to consider an implicit motivation.

Tenderness have won you over despite Sam never did any autentical attempts of pursuing you, but you were considering he could be crushing on you as you were already on him. His attitude during the great birthday party of Bilbo seemed to confirm your suspects. Long before the generous party host dissapeared in front of everyone, when many hobbits were still dancing and you were among them, Sam was sitting at the table showing his back to the crew. Despite you attempted smiling from afar, he wasn't approaching, yet right after you danced with Frodo he practically threw his friend in your direction with complicit laughing.

Guided by her teasings on wrong assumptions, and hoping to help you concentrate, your mother ended up suggesting you to show affection towards your crush giving him the first finished work you could accomplish. Motivation worked wonders as you secretly imagined the reaction of Sam to the atentive gesture. For said reason, you picked the project with care. It had to be something easy that could provide him a sort of use. A piece he wouldn't mistake for a simple mathom meant to circulate through the Shire, but a simple show of your intense affection towards him.

The outcome was reflection of work made with love: a circular doily with neat patterns you were quite proud of. Knowing he would be occupied with the matters of his inheritance, you didn't wait untill Frodo would invite you to his home under some circunstantial excuse. You didn't want that either, since you didn't want to feed the hopes of your mother thinking you were going to charm the heir and new owner of Bag End. Instead, you pretended to pass by cassually and stopping on your way to somewhere else, peeking at the garden with the hope of finding Sam.

It was a beautifull morning, the sun was shinning bright and you didn't expected your crush would be hidding from you while trimming the verge ... or at least pretending to do so.

" Good morning, Sam! " You saluted after approaching untill being right behind him. " Are you alright? "

He turned back nervously, refusing to engage in eye contact while attempting to respond.

" Miss (y/n)! It's great to see you, ... If you excuse me I will go to the house and tell Mr Frodo of your presence. "

You couldn't help chuclking a bit, aware of his confussion.

" You don't have to, I came to see you. "

The clarification made him even more nervous, but in a different way. It was as if an incredible surprise would have left him incapable of coherent responses.

" Me? Why would I be given such honor? "

More sweet confussion in his eyes, and you wished you could have kissed him.

" Because I'm passing by to give you a present. "

He abandoned his working tool fearing he may have dropped it otherwise.

" I was not aware of being held in such high regard by you."

You started twirling a strand of hair with your index finger.

" Of course you are! You are my favorite part of visiting Bag End! Not like I don't appreciate the friendship of Frodo, but I like you the most. "

He couldn't get himself to believe your words.

" Me, miss? " He repeated, as if he tried to convince himself out loud. " How can I be ..., when there are other aspects from this home that are trully wonderfull? "

" I think you are wonderfull, Sam. " You sweetly confessed, then revealed your gift. " And I wanted to show you my affection with this. "

As you handled it to him your eyes meet and he didn't back away from your smile.

" It's self made, the first good result of my lessons."

Sam accepted it as if it would be the most precious thing in the whole Shire.

" I'll treasure it, have no doubt..."

He interrumpted himself, getting nervous all over again once he realized he had nothing close that he could give you in return.

" I'm afraid I have no inmediate means to retribute you, since your kindness has taken me by surprise I couldn't think of anything and it would be extremely rude to offer you flowers from Mr Frodo's garden without his consent to cut some ... "

Before he could keep overworrying, you made your intentions clear by cutting him off with a kiss on the cheek.

" I like you, knowing if you like me back is all the retribution I need."

Your call for honesty was answered with a confession he delivered without thinking.

" You are the most beautifull girl I have ever seen."

[judgementdaysunshine]

☀️ + Tolkien + enemies to lovers!!

could be one of the Elves, Thorin, Elendil, Kili, or Aragorn - you can choose (really just no hobbits)

Oooh this could fit for any and it shall be 🧡

Legolas

The two of you always had to be kept at arms length due to the fact that simple teasing would lead to your weapons at each other's throats causing Boromir and Aragorn to step in

You hoped that the journey wouldn't last for a long while so that not only all of you could go back to your homes but so that you wouldn't have to deal with the blonde elf that was driving you mad

What you didn't expect was to be gravely ill after being injured by an orc crying and moaning in pain on the ground crawling slowly until you felt gentle hands on you stopping you and carrying you to safety not expecting to see legolas above you with the most terrified look you had seen on his face

You went in and out of consciousness not knowing what happened or that legolas was right by your side cleaning and bandaging your wound and stopping anyone who wanted to step in and help when they found you laying in your sleeping bag with him next to you holding your hand

Slowly you started gaining consciousness and lucidity seeing him sleeping next to you noticing that you not only felt quite better but that you were wrapped in bandages as you looked around you saw aragorn next to you "You were stabbed by an orc and you already had a fever you almost died from how ill you were had it not been for legolas being by your side" you slowly looked to the sleeping elf in surprise

After getting well and all of you continued onwards you trailed behind pulling a confused legolas to a private spot of the forest while the others went ahead not knowing your absences

"You saved me...I thought you hated me" he looked at you in surprise grabbing and holding your face making your heart stop and beat faster "I don't hate you I never did mel" you turned rosy pink of him using elvish to you "Mellon nin Im mel cin" you both end up in a kiss that took your breath away

The two of you announced your relationship with everyone of different reactions from shock to surprise with aragorn smiling and hugging the both of you while frodo cheered making you giggle

Kili

He tried to be kind to you despite your rare trust with others there were only few people who met and got to know you that you truly trusted with your life and for a long while he wasn't one of them

That changed however when you were captured by the elves and when you were taken away to be questioned by King Thranduil and kept right by him for hours of questioning coming back with fingerprints embedded in your arms and a huge hand print on the side of your face

He immediately saw red saying every swear in the book and after escaping he wouldn't let anyone but you go near or touch his leg carefully bandaging it and checking on it every so often while gently talking to him

The two of you started feeling different towards each other not really knowing what to think of it but with advice from Bilbo and weirdly enough the beautiful elf Tauriel when she found you after getting lost you decided to confess to him

The two of you both told each other how you felt not really knowing what the other would think or do but when you started at each other but what you didn't expect was for him to surge forward pulling you into a passionate kiss

Soon the two of you were together always by the other's side holding hands or pinkies if you were around other people you didn't know always smiling at the other as you followed behind the others

Aragorn

He didn't know why he acted the way he did towards you but he knew that he had an off feeling about you but that he also wanted to protect you which confused you quite a bit

You didn't hate him because he was who he was or that he sometimes did things without thinking but you only didn't like him because the way he treated you ever since the two of you met after you volunteered to go with your friend Boromir on the journey to Mordor

Slowly overtime with help from Legolas and boromir the two of you became friends and were never seen without smiling or helping each other with something along the way

When boromir passed he held you as you cried watching his body go over the waterfall and you both would talk when the others were asleep one of those nights leading to something more

The two of you were enjoying the quiet of the fire and while talking he caressed a small cut on the side of your face leading to the two of you in a slow and loving kiss sleeping next to each other

Soon the two of you were stealing comforting hugs when either of you were upset,quietly crying and grieving for boromir who you had been friends with since the two of you were children,and breath taking kisses that made you feel love like you never felt it before

Before the battle of Helm's Deep you both broke the news to everyone which caused many reactions from everyone with Merry saying Pippin owed him money having a bet on the topic,Gimli full of surprise not believing it,Sam congratulating the two of you glad they you weren't arguing with each other,Eowyn smiling hugging both of you tightly at her two friends in love,Frodo smiling big while holding sam's hand,and Legolas giving his well known smirk realizing that he had already known for an amount of time

Thorin

The two of you could never smile or talk respectfully to the other if you were in each other's presence always having to be pulled in another room by Bilbo or Balin

You were always in the back staying as far away as you can from him rarely talking or looking at him unless it was an argument or a brief moment of respect in order for everyone to get out of a situation alive

That changed when you jumped in to save him from Azog bilbo right next to you ready to fight while you checked him for wounds dragging him to the tree where everyone else was until the eagles came and took you to a much safer place

After hugging bilbo and as everyone walked away far enough he stopped you before you could follow "I thought that the way I felt for you was never going to change and I thought I would never love anyone but now over this past while it has changed" you stare at him feeling your heart race as he stares at you

He smiled which rarely happened especially towards you making you not only realize that the weird way you'd been feeling towards him also changed but that you knew that you couldn't see your life after this journey without him surging forward into a emotion fueled and truly wonderful kiss while the sun shines over the two of you

You took things slow and after reaching Laketown you both told everyone causing a bit of surprise amongst them except Gandalf who was smirking and bilbo who smiled hugging his two best friends as the two of you smiled at the future ahead together

[crystalbeetle888]

Voyage into the Unknown Pt.2

Master List

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3

The sounds of chanting and singing echo faintly throughout Bilbos’ home, as I drift in and out of sleep. I toss and turn trying to drift off again but to no avail. Groggily, I rise from the soft bed and trot out of the room, heading towards the sounds of chatter. A deep voice sounds from around the corner “- I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door” Shuffling is heard before Bilbo's voice interrupts “There is no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!” he exclaims. “There is a mark, I put it there myself” My heart stutters ‘That voice’ I panic ‘He’s the magic chanting guy. What the fuck does he want?” I slink away quietly back to my room, quickly packing my belongings. ‘I can’t stay here’ I think, before creeping back into the hall. Peeking around the corridor and seeing no one there, I make a dash to the next wall. 'Fuck my shoes are by the door' I think to myself not noticing the approaching figure. “Excuse me, Mrs Baggins?” 

“Fuck” I whisper startled, spinning around a short young looking man with a bob cut stands behind me “What do you want?” I ask hastily. He looked down shyly “I just wanted to ask if you had any more bread loaves for our jam?” I look at him dumbfounded. “Did you check the kitchen and pantry?” He shakes his head, eyes lighting up before jogging off. ‘What the fuck?’ I turn back around, two more young men stand across the hall staring at me. One of them is blonde, with two funny braids hanging from his moustache. The other, brunette, with wispy bangs framing his face and deep brown eyes. He stands slightly taller than the blonde man, but both equally as ripped looking. ‘Damn’. I peek into the empty entrance hall and spot my shoes ‘No creepy wizard man, so far, so good’, the two men standing there, still spying on me. Quietly sneaking into the hall I sit on the floor and begin to put my shoes on. The two men follow me curiously into the room, “What are you doing?” I turn and shush them “I’m sneaking out” I whisper. “Why are you sneaking out?” the blonde one asks “Are you being held prisoner?” The brunette asks quietly in concern. I scrunch my face in confusion “What? No. I’m avoiding the wizard” They give each other a look “Why?” they both ask in unison. I huff in frustration “Because he's evil, and he kidnapped me”. Finally putting on my boots I stand up just as another short muscular man enters the room. Regalness and power emanate from him. His long flowing raven hair and steely eyes are intense. ‘Double damn’.

“Fili, Kili-” He stops mid sentence upon seeing me “Who’s this?” He asks suspiciously. “Just leaving” I say walking towards the door, “You’re leaving Y/N?” Bilbo and a tall bearded man walk into the room. ‘Oh my god’ “It’s you! You bastard! You kidnapped me!” I yell angrily pointing my finger at the tall man. He gives me a surprised look “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to” he says nonchalantly. “Oh fuck right off! You’re the one who brought me to this mediaeval shit show” I snap. The old man strokes his beard in thought “Curious” he mutters to himself. 

“Right okay, I’m down with this, Thank you so much for the hospitality Bilbo, but I’m leaving” I say walking over to him and shaking his hand before pointing at the old man beside him “And you, stay the hell away from me” I turn around finding the short majestic man blocking the door, looking at the old man behind me. I glare at him before stalking over, “I don’t know what you're scheming, but I am leaving, so move out of my way you weird little man” he raises an eyebrow at me with a smug look, “No” he states, crossing his arms across his broad chest. I let out a angry breath “I you don’t fucking-” A light tap hits the back of my head before a wave of intense sleepiness washes over me. I stumble backwards before falling over, a pair of strong arms catch me and the last thing I see is the brunette man's handsome face before falling unconscious. 

The room falls silent as the strange human woman lays asleep in Kilis’ arms. Then Bilbo panics “Oh no, Oh Ms.Y/N” He rushes over. Kili looks over at the wizard “Why did you do that?” He asks, confused. Gandalf hums in thought grasping his magic staff “I just thought my lady could use a rest, to- gather herself” He steps away content with his work. Kili picks the woman up bridal style before looking towards his uncle for guidance. Thorin nods his head towards the other room “Lay her down in front of the fire, let her rest” Kili nods in response and carries the woman into the other room, his brother in tow. Laying her down on the soft pelt carpet the two brothers kneel beside her slumbering form. “She’s got quite the temper on her aye” Fili remarks “She could be part dwarrowdam, especially with her height and all” The woman only stood around half a head taller than Kili, and he was quite tall for a dwarf. Kili scoffs at him “She’s clearly from the race of man, look at her soft face” he says poking her in the cheek “She’s too smooth to be a dwarrow” Fili laughs at his brother, patting him on the shoulder “Well in that case you might not be a dwarf also” He jests. Kili rolls his eyes, slightly hurt by his brother's words “Real funny Fi” he shoves his shoulder back. The two young princes continue to fool around, chatting about the strange woman in front of them, while in the other room Thorin begins questioning Gandalf the Grey. He crosses his arms glaring up at the tall grey clad wizard “Pray tell me Gandalf, why did that woman recognize you?” The older man stutters out a response “Well, I just felt like this quest could benefit from- someone of her skill” Thorin isn’t convinced or impressed at all “And what are her skills? Cursing like a drunkard or dressing indecently?” He growls. Gandalf huffs in frustration, not being able to tell Thorin the entire truth makes convincing him incredibly difficult. “Thorin, you put your trust in me to guide this company. So trust me now, she will be of great use in time” Thorin sighs in defeat “You said we would only need the burglar” he states “What has changed?” Gandalf looks at him grimly “I’ve had a vision, Thorin, one that will end in great loss without her” Thorin nods at the wizard's cryptic message “You cannot share any more can you?” he asks unsatisfied. The wizards face relaxes “No” he smiled mischievously. Thorin shakes his head disappointed with the conclusion of the meeting before wandering off to find Balin, the king's advisor, to inform him of the change of plans.

My head swims as I begin to regain consciousness “How are you feeling Ms?” I open my eyes to the brunette man hovering over my lying form, his dark hair curtaining around my face. “Rat shit, now get out of my face” I grumble, shoving his head away by the face. The blonde man from before laughs at the sight. Sitting up I clutch at my head, feeling sluggish “What the hell happened?” I mutter. “Well, you were threatening our uncle before Gandalf decided to put you to bed” the blonde one responds “Then Gandalf and Thorin argued and now you’re joining the company” The brunette one continues, smiling enthusiastically. I stare at him confused “What  the fuck are you talking about?” I ask. The two men look at one another before they both turn to me “You’re coming with us on an adventure!” The brunette one exclaims. I shake my head slowly “No” I say gently. “No?” he asks, confused. “No” I nod “I don’t want to join you” I whisper. He huffs in amusement “I’m afraid you don’t get a say in the matter Ms”. I glared at him before standing up and marching out the room towards the door “We’ll see about that mate”, ‘I won’t be controlled by some weird short ass men’ I think stubbornly to myself. Walking into the entrance hall I find a large, intimidating, bald man seated in front of the door smoking a pipe. The man notices me but doesn’t move. His hardened stare makes me uncomfortable. I've sparred with many strong, intimidating individuals, but this man seems like someone I don’t want to challenge. ‘Scary bastard’ I shake my head exasperated, before snatching my fallen bag off the floor and marching back to my room in defeat. Before I can make it to the safety of my room I am ambushed by the one, I assumed, who's named Thorin “Not trying to escape again are you?” He blocks my path. I roll my eyes at him “Only you” I mock. He grasps my arm as I try to slip past him “Do not mock me woman, you are only here by Gandalf's will, you have yet to impress me” My mouth opens in shock and I huff at the audacity “Get your hands off me before I slap dick off you, you pig” I quip. Thorin's eye widens and his grip loosens fractionally, giving me just enough room to snatch my arm back. I glare at him up and down “Don’t ever grab me again” I turn sharply and head back to my room, slamming the door shut loudly. I let out a shaky breath. Despite all the training, and teaching, nothing prepares you for real confrontations, for the feeling of being threatened. I do some steady, controlled breathing, allowing the anxiety to wash away. Tired, I slip my bag off by the door and crawl back into bed, hoping that this is all just a terrible dream and tomorrow I will wake back in my cabin, back in my slightly less shitty life.

Master List

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The Shadow of the Past

"The blame was mostly laid on Gandalf." Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a Disturber of the Peace...

Something about "but the growth of hobbit-sense was not very noticeable" cracks me up

I love the fact that Frodo kept throwing birthday parties for Bilbo after he left. It's so sweet.

I would much rather go to Frodo’s Hundred-weight Feast than Bilbo’s Party of Special Magnificence, actually; twenty guests and several meals “at which it snowed food and rained drink” sounds much more my speed X-D

“Bilbo isn’t dead.” “Where is he then?” “🤷‍♂️”

F in the chat for Folco Boffin, who was mentioned like once in this chapter and never comes into the story again

"Merry and Pippin suspected that [Frodo] visited the Elves at times, as Bilbo had done." TEA???

Frodo's wandering in the autumn has such an evocative and melancholy feeling to it. So much so that I wrote a poem about it last year...

Part Two of me wishing the movies could have shown the Dwarves passing through the Shire on their way to the Blue Mountains

Sam be like "Dragons and Ents are real, I tell you!" and Ted Sandyman like "press X to doubt"

Our first glimpse of Sam's unassailable trust in Frodo and his wisdom 💚

And now! Exposition dumping, with Gandalf.

I hate the fact that I can't see or hear the word Eregion without getting war flashbacks to Amazon's Rings of Poopy

Ooh, remind me to write an essay about the invisibility power of the Ring(s)...

"[Bilbo] would certainly never have passed on to you anything that he thought would be a danger." Oh boy, would you look at the time, it's Crying About Adoptive Relationships O'clock

"'There wasn't any permanent harm done, was there?' asked Frodo anxiously. 'He would get all right in time, wouldn't he? Be able to rest in peace, I mean.'" OH BOY, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Literally Gandalf: "Hobbits are my special interest"

"It is quite cool." It sure is, Gandalf. Wicked. Radical, even.

Low-hanging fruit, I know, but I had to 🤣

Speaking of low-hanging fruit, here's a joke I made two years ago about the "until Spring had passed into Winter" line:

He threw a luau barbecue one breezy summer night/Invited all his turtle pals to come and have a wiki bite/The turtles started walkin' there as Lance began to swing/The one that lived across the street arrived there in the spring...!

"I wish it need not have happened in my time." "So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Still a line that goes so, so hard, right in the middle of this exposition dump.

I like how in Gandalf's story, he makes Deagol talk normally, but Smeagol still has all those verbal idiosyncrasies that are iconic to Gollum.

I'm still trying to remember who it was that pointed out that the last syllable of Smeagol is the first syllable of Gollum. Blew my mind when I saw that, I tell ya.

"I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought." "It is not." 🤣🤣🤣

The thought of Gollum creeping through a window to snatch a baby from a cradle and eat it is at least seventeen different kinds of Not Fun. Thanks, Tolkien.

I have very little to say about Gandalf's retelling of the Ring's story—and Frodo's frightened and naive questions—except that it's almost as hard to tear your eyes away from the book as it is for Frodo to throw the Ring into the fire.

"I do really wish to destroy it! Or, well, to have it destroyed. I am not made for perilous quests." Oh, Frodo, bby...

I love how Sam's spying is so artfully foreshadowed here X-D You just go whistling away down that path, buddy! Nobody suspects a thing!

All Frodo has to say is "I suppose I'll have to go running into danger alone to keep everything and everyone I love safe, even if it means never coming home again; it's a pity, but I'll do it" and Gandalf is like "Frodo have I mentioned lately how much I love you and hobbits in general". Which. Mood! Big mood!

SUDDENLY, SAMWISE GAMGEE!

Good gracious did I need Sam and his comic relief after this heavy chapter X-D Bless you, Sam, you loveable dummy

I wonder what hobbit idiom Tolkien "translated" into "Lor bless you, sir". I'm not sure the hobbits have a concept of Eru Illuvatar as a benevolent God who hands out blessings; and if they do, I somehow doubt they'd have quaint little figures of speech like this. But I'm just nitpicking at this point because it's fun.

"There ain't no eaves at Bag End, and that's a fact." SAM 🤣🤣

"Mr. Frodo, sir! Don't let him hurt me, sir! Don't let him turn me into anything unnatural! My old dad would take on so." Have I mentioned that I love the heck out of Sam?

Frodo is "hardly able to keep from laughing", which, MOOD!

Sam heard that Mr. Frodo was going away and audibly choked. GAH I love him so much

Frodo sure knows how to threaten Sam LOL

"If you even breathe a word of what you've heard here, then I hope Gandalf will turn you into a spotted toad and fill the garden full of grass-snakes." 🤣🤣

"'Me, sir!' cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. 'Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!' he shouted, and then burst into tears." Oh, Sam. I love you.

[fakecrfan]

Georgie Barker having worked together with a literal doppelganger not once but TWICE is conceptually so funny, and even more so that she readily recommended her to Melanie and the implication in her special episodes that she is sponsored by avatar-run brands. It would be so funny if her podcast was actually that popular because she keeps trailing her competitors for minions of the Entities.

Okay it's been a while since I listened to all her appearances so I could be misrememberng things but--I feel like Georgie is a lot more like Joshua Gilespie and Sebastian Skinner than people realize. Outside of close people she aggressively stays out of people's business and doesn't poke at things. I don't think that she's feels strong pulls of curiosity and if she does she usually chooses to ignore them. She doesn't even tell her landlord when the lights have gone out. Her default method of interacting with anything that crosses her path is "leave it alone."

So a dopplganger wearing stolen skin gives Melanie weird vibes even before she sees the skin peeling. She notices her odd behavior and the odd smell around her, mostly covered by constant chain smoking. Those are indications something's off. But Georgie? She's just be like "Oh she's odd I guess. She did her job though." Because she never got bothered enough about the weird smell or behavior to notice anything like that.

Part of that is the trauma induced complete lack of fear, I think. What fear is supposed to do is act as a signal to pay more attention. You know, so you pick up on potential threats to your existence. Georgie being unable to feel fear probably means she just isn't going to pay attention to such signals.

Person is over-smoking? She won't think they're possibly trying to cover up some more sinister smell, they're just odd and it's impolite to point it out.

Ex boyfriend got an archivist job and says he thinks it's slowly turning him inhuman? Her first thought is "wait but you don't have a library sciences degree!"

Even beyond supernatural trauma induced apathy, though--Georgie Barker is just fundamentally a hobbit of a person. No, not like Bilbo or Frodo or Sam or any of the main characters of LOTR. Like a PROPER hobbit. She would just sit happily in her little hobbit hole eating her first and second breakfast and never feel the urge to investigate or go on any adventures whatsoever. Talk about other people's adventures and odd things? Sure. Get involved? Oh absolutely not she wouldn't have time to feed her cat. It takes the literal apocalypse for this woman to get directly involved in anything.

[creativemessbyvd]

FIC IDEA VAULT #15: A BAGGINSHIELD AFTERLIFE REUNION/TIME TRAVEL/ FIX-IT/BILBO DESTROYS THE RING IN PLACE OF FRODO FIC

Back on my Bagginshield era, I'm reading fics on them (I stopped bc various SW ships and other ships had me on a chokehold, how about those last 15 on Good Omens Ep6?? :c) and listening to my playlist once more, I think I had since the start of the year with hardly any of my OTP around (except for my phone background) ANYWAY this is to inform you I am also back on my bullshit and I come with another fic idea, which will be put on hold until I can complete the other 164453196859 ideas I have. Ok, not that many, but I do have a lot of very detailed ideas that I do want to write and a bunch of half sentenced ones that are just ideas, so here we goooooooo

Bilbo dies on the way to Valinor and awakens on it as his 50 year old self, to the astonishment of the Elves, Gandalf and Frodo. Something is wrong with the afterlife, it is in the air and everyone is on edge, Frodo most of all, as he has felt this presence before.

Sauron may have died on Arda, but he was still in part present in the afterlife, wrecking havoc on everything. Bilbo embarks to the green hills of Yavanna's garden, the land where all Hobbits go, with Frodo and Gandalf. Upon reunitign with family and friends, Yavanna herself welcomes the brave hobbits but Bilbo can notice the tense manner in which she speaks to Gandalf and offers his help. Yavanna informs them that the various lands of the Valar are on lockdown as they face attacks from the darkness and they fear they may not last until Iluvitar can help them, but that is a mission that Gandalf and the other wizards don't know how long it will take. She is afraid for her husbands and needs a way to contact him. She believes having them all cut off from each other was the wrong choice, uniting their forces they will be able to hold off the darkness better than on their own. So, Bilbo is determined to once more become a burglar and enter another mountain. Yavanna does warn him though that this time, the dragon is on the outside of the mountain. Sauron has set Smaug onto the Mountain that is Mahal's domain.

Bilbo sets off with four trouble hobbits to sneak into the Dwarven Halls, managing to distract the dragon enough that he ramms into the mountain and knocks himself out. They find a way inside and find a funny scene, Bilbo's dwarves are attempting to take down the front doors, despite their maker trying to make them see reason. They had heard Smaug's attempts to draw them out, the last thing the dragon had told them, aimed at Thorin himself, was that he was going to go to the Gardens to find Bilbo himself and get his revenge. Bilbo had at that moment drawn away his attention and having not heard the thunderous racket for awhile, the dwarves inside had panicked and were now attempting to try to kill the dragon themselves. Bilbo laughs at their ridiculousness and is almost squished by 13 dwarves. Mahal knows they wouldn't be there unless his wife had sent them and Bilbo gives him the message Yavanna had given him.

Mahal himself is now more than ever determined to find a way to stop the rampage that Sauron is inflicting on their lands. He goes out the way the hobbits came in to take care of a knocked out Smaug, and together, the hobbits, the dwarves and a Valar set off for the Gardens once more.

Reunited, the Valar are planning and discarding plans faster than the others can follow, until Mahal has a very dangerous plan, which he calls the Durin Last Resort.

The reason that Sauron is now able to still remain in lands of the Valar is because he was able to draw power from the remaining rings still in Middle Earth at the time of the War of the Ring, destroying it had not completely cut him off. The other rings had to be found and destroyed before the One Ring was finally banished, only then would Sauron finally be defeated. Time was not a straight line, it happened all at once, and still, Mahal and Yavanna could sent people back as Mahal had done before for Durin in his various reincarnations.

This makes Frodo almost collapse from the anxiety, but he swears that he will try his best if he is asked to be the Ring Bearer again. Bilbo can't take seeing his dear nephew in so much pain, not when he knows that he wasted so much time by doing nothing but using the ring as a simple party trick. He offers himself to go and be the Ring Bearer this time, reasoning that even if Frodo went back to the beginning of his adventure, Sauron already had plenty of time to be prepared and on the lookout for the Ring, but when Bilbo got the Ring himself, Sauron was not strong enough to do much but be the necromancer.

Mahal agrees but Yavanna is not happy. She refuses to put Bilbo in such danger, unless the company also go with him. She wishes for this to be a second chance for the line of Durin, and thus Bilbo wouldn't be alone on his trials. They cannot be sure exactly when Bilbo will go back to, just that it will before the retaking of Erebor. He will also be the only one who will initially have his memories, everyone else will need to be told a special message to unlock those memories back in the world of the living.

Bilbo is then send back in time and back to life a couple of years before his adventure and sets to making things right not just for his friends but also for many others in his life.

Anway, sorry for the innaccuracies on the Valar and everything else, I will not read the Silm and will just wing it lol. Essentially, I want BAMF Bilbo who gets to reunite with his dwarves in the afterlife, and then gets send back into his past to redo the Quest and also go on to destroy the Ring in the place of Frodo. If he and his King are able to finally stop being idiots and actually speak on their feelings, well, we will see. Those two are worse at communication than an angel and demon I know, so it might take a while lol.

Any comments are welcome!

[akingofcarvenstone]

How do you or would you headcannon Bilbo and Thorin accidentally proposing or getting engaged and how would they proceed when they find out or the other accepts the proposal?

I'm so sorry for not noticing this ask sooner, but thank you! I rarely check this blog since I mostly stay on my main blog. And tbh it's been sooo long since I've been invested the fandom, so I'm not sure this answer will be the best thing I've come up with. I'm gonna need a refresher on Hobbit/LotR lore after this 😅

Well, to me, an accidental bagginshield proposal would occur one of two ways:

1) let's say that in dwarven culture (headcanon), giving your intended a great gift like a family heirloom or something personalized, would be a form of proposal.

Thorin giving Bilbo the mithril mail could have been his proposal, and while the other dwarves and Gandalf understand the meaning, Bilbo doesn't and no one tells him bc to everyone it just seems obvious. Everyone starts treating him with the same regard that they do with Thorin, their leader, and Bilbo notices the change in demeanor and asks either Bofur, Balin, or even Gandalf about it and they're like "Mr. Baggins, didn't you know? Thorin proposed to you, you are his consort! Congrats on being the only one to get through his rock solid heart!" And then he says something like, "I'm sorry, what?! What do you mean I'm his consort?!" "Don't you remember, when Thorin gave you the mithril vest? In our culture, giving a fine gift like that to your intended is a proposal! And you accepted his gift, so you sealed the deal." And Bilbo tries to tell them that he didn't know, that this is a mistake. But when he's asked whether he would like to return the gift and end the proposal, he can't do it, he doesn't want to, so he just goes on with the knowledge that he's the King's consort. Thorin would be so pleased that now he can be touchy feely with Bilbo, and it wouldn't really be much of a change from what they were like before, but now everyone knows and accepts. (And if you want the angst feelings, the scene at the end where he tells Balin what he feels about Thorin after he dies hits harder.)

2) if Bilbo proposes: like I said, I need a refresher on the lore so if there's a canon explanation for a Hobbit form of proposal or anything, just excuse me and let's pretend.

So, hobbits really love food and simple living and comforts, right? But that's not really possible when they're on a long journey, so Bilbo has to make do with what he has. Maybe they're short on their food supplies one day, and Bilbo has some food from back home that he packed and it's wrapped in a nice package, and he was saving it for himself, but offers it to Thorin and Co. And we all know Hobbits love to eat, and they eat a lot, so a few rolls of bread is like a snack to them, whereas for others it's a full meal, so the dwarves think he has a feast and is enough to feed them all for the night. Bilbo unintentionally proposed to Thorin by giving him a gift of a homemade 'meal' in a nice package, as is the custom (headcanon), and for a moment Bilbo forgets about it and just feels good for providing his friends with some food. Later that night, Gandalf reminds him, teasing him, about his proposal and Bilbo blushes and coughs nervously, saying he didn't mean to, but luckily, neither Thorin nor the other dwarves know about it so he thinks he's safe. But, Kili and Fili, sneaky little guys, were eavesdropping on their 'private' conversation and rush to let Thorin and everyone know about the meaning of Bilbo's gesture. Thorin scolds them for being nosy and that they probably heard wrong anyway, but the next day Thorin asks Gandalf and he confirms. Thorin says nothing but now that he knows, he allows himself to get physically and emotionally closer to Bilbo and from there, they kinda just live as a couple and no one questions it, they're happy for them!

It's been so long, but this is bringing back my bagginshield feels from back in the day 🥰

If anyone wants to write a fic or draw something inspired by this, you're welcome to do so, just let me know!

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Oh my god we have FINALLY made it to Bree, and it's honestly something of a miracle that our hobbity bois didn't die horribly like four separate times on the way. But they (and I) made it alive and well, and now we get to hang out at the Prancing Pony for a bit. Let's talk chapter 9, "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony."

My god hobbits are small-town even when they aren't small-town. There is enough crossover between Bree and the Shire historically that there is literal shared blood in the Bree and Shire hobbits, but naturally they're each "outsiders" to the other because they live more than ten miles down the road. Also, for all that Bree is significantly more cosmopolitan than the Shire, it's still a backwater small town that barely sees many travelers and is small town enough to be sus of those it does see.

Contradictorily, however, it is only in Bree that the Big and Little Folk really live together and have any sort of community, which I kind of love. The sense of everyone living and letting live while just positively reveling in all the internal and traveler-brought gossip sounds honestly fairly delightful. I also got a very different vibe from book Bree than film Bree. Book Bree is out of our four protagonists' comfort zone, so it feels bigger and a little intimidating from their perspective, but I was absolutely not getting the seedy, urine-stained bar from the film. The vibe is almost like an edgier version of Bilbo's birthday party, especially since there are apparently actual Underhills in Bree who just...assume Frodo is one of them and treat him and Sam and Pippin as such.

Although honestly, I'd have probably hung out in the room with Merry for some goddamn peace and quiet if I'd had my druthers. Other people are exhausting... And SPEAKING of Meriadoc Brandybuck, can we just take a second to acknowledge that Tolkien tells us in this chapter that there is some Bree blood in the Brandybucks? Literally at this point, is there ANYONE who hasn't married into or out of the Brandybuck line? Like what Genghis Kahn do Merry and Frodo have back in their ancestral line, and how on earth do hobbits avoid marrying cousins???

Anywho, back to things that actually matter. The one thing that I did notice that has me back to "Samwise Gamgee is secretly a demigod of some sort but even he doesn't know it" is that he basically has a precognition moment outside the Prancing Pony:

Sam stared up at the inn with its three storeys and many windows, and felt his heart sink. He had imagined meeting giants taller than trees, and other creatures even more terrifying, some time or other in the course of his journey; but at the moment he was finding his first sight of Men and their tall houses quite enough, indeed too much for the dark end of a tiring day. He pictured black horses standing all saddled in the shadows of the inn-yard, and Black Riders peering out of dark upper windows.

YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME THAT THIS IS ANYTHING OTHER THAN A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE. Literally Tom Bombadil predicted they'd be safe enough in Bree, but no, no they are not going to be, and they're due for a VERY near miss with the Ringwraiths. But when Sam suggests they find a nice hobbit family to stay with, Frodo full-on goes "Tom Bombadil wouldn't recommend us a bad inn" and that's apparently the final word on THAT.

So our hobbity bois get themselves some dinner and some beer and then Sam, Frodo, and Pippin head for the common room to mingle, the psychotic extroverts sociable fellows that they are. And this is more or less where we run into trouble. Hobbits are nosy, but rangers? They KNOW things. And you know the ranger in the Prancing Pony's common room is important because THIS is how he is introduced:

Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits.

Well hello, Strider! Welcome to the party. I literally cannot say how refreshing it is to have someone here who knows what's up, and who is willing to actually like...give Frodo instructions about how to handle sensitive situations in plain goddamn language. Because yeah, yeah Frodo probably SHOULD do something to shut Pippin up before he recounts Bilbo's vanishing act at his birthday party and has everyone and their giddy aunt gossiping about Bagginses with the Black Riders on the road HUNTING for Bagginses.

Although in total fairness to Pippin: All Frodo said before they got to Bree was that Frodo specifically should not be identified as a Baggins to anyone. He didn't say jack shit about not bringing up Bilbo or the Ring, and if there's one thing Pippin apparently needs, it's genie-levels of specificity in instructions.

Frodo doesn't need quite that much, but apparently he needed more than "I should stop your young friends from talking too much" and "You had better do something quick," because my solution would probably not have been to jump on a table and start talking. Like...Frodo. Come on, buddy. Fake a drunken stumble and dump a beer all over Pippin and then drag his ass back to the room to clean up and change. This isn't hard.

Except apparently it IS hard, because suddenly Frodo is now in the spotlight of a pleasantly buzzed mob of people who are bored and basically go "dance, monkey, dance" and so Frodo is over here literally singing and dancing on a table. And man, I have watched the movies too many times, because I was expecting him to bust out with the Green Dragon or something, but no, no, Frodo pulls out "a ridiculous son that Bilbo had been rather fond of (and indeed rather proud of, for he had made up the words himself)." And this song doesn't make it into Peter Jackson's epic, so why is it so jarringly familiar to me? Well, this is why:

(This is not actually an endorsement of Hank Green; I have low-key beef with the vlogbrothers coming out anti-mask and participating in the "Covid is over and we can all pretend it's 2019" narrative. But I do love Peter Hollens's Tolkien-inspired songs.)

So we have Frodo singing and dancing on this tabletop with a few beers in him and leaning in to the performance of it all, and then he started getting ambitious with it. Which is, of course, when it all goes right to hell. I'm just gonna let Tolkien tell it, though:

[Frodo] capered about on the table; and when he came a second time to the cow jumped over the Moon, he leaped in the air. Much too vigorously; for he came down, bang, into a tray full of mugs, and slipped, and rolled off the table with a crash, clatter, and bump! The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped shor in gaping silence; for the singer disappeared. He simply vanished, as if he had gone slap through the floor without leaving a hole!

Frankly, the fact that Frodo doesn't know how the dang ring got on his finger is a big old red flag. He was EXPLICITLY told by Gandalf not to use it, and he managed to NOT use it in the Barrow-Downs, which was a significantly higher-stakes moment. Plus, if you're dancing on a table and (presumably) conducting as you lead the room in song, what the actual fuck was your hand doing in your pants? (Yeah, I know, PHRASING. Not changing it though.)

Not to mention that I'm pretty sure that Frodo also SEES the two assholes who tip off the Black Riders about them, because two dudes with bad vibes who had been antisocial whisperers all night slide out the door basically as soon as Frodo does his little disappearing act, but he NEGLECTS TO MENTION THIS TO STRIDER. I have to assume that the trained Ranger also caught this, but like...come on, Frodo. Self-preservation instincts, bud.

And honestly? Strider has every right to scold Frodo for this--although I would be lying if I said my inner 13-year-old boy didn't fall on the floor in hysterics when Strider says "You have put your foot in it! Or should I say your finger?" Because Frodo really did fuck everything up, to the point where Strider has to play the "Broski, I know basically everything" card that Merry had to play a few chapters back, and where it was endearing and relatable when Merry did it, it's FUCKING TERRIFYING that Strider a) can even do it, and b) had to. This is a bad situation, and one that could have been avoided if everyone had just HUNKERED DOWN IN THEIR ROOM FOR THE NIGHT. Socializing kills, is what I'm saying here.

Frodo does make a super sad attempt to walk the disappearing trick back, saying that he just briefly teleported over to Strider's corner for a chat, but literally nobody's having it, not even Butterbur. Sure, Butterbur placates his other customers and downplays it, but he specifically tells Frodo to warn him if Frodo plans to do any more "conjuring." Our innkeeper knows goddamn magic when he sees it. But despite Frodo's sinking heart and misgivings, we know that Butterbur is on the level because, as @apocalypticavolition keeps reiterating in their Wheel of Time reread (which you should absolutely check out, it is a delight), we can always trust a fat innkeeper, and Tolkien goes out of his way to tell us that "old Butterbur" has a "fat face."

Seriously Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien, WHY THE FAT SHAMING???

But I'm going to leave it here, as Tolkien does, because that's pretty much it for this chapter. Next time we have some conversations coming, and hopefully we get the full tea on Strider. I know him from the movies, but I genuinely remember jack all about his book background, so this will be fun!

[oda-cipresi]

Hello, I saw your post about taking hobbit requests and I was wondering if you would mind writing something from the perspective of a dragon?

I love dragons and there aren't really a whole lot of things to read with one as the protagonist.

So maybe just something about a dragon helping the company on their quest?

It may be a little cliche but I also like the reincarnation trope so do with that what you will, incase you want to write something about this c:

Omg, first request! Thank you so much :D I love this and I have a few ideas in mind.

(quick disclaimer that English is not my first language. If you spot any mistakes, typos, etc... please let me know)

This is really poorly written and towards the end I started running out of ideas but I do hope you like it :) Any criticism/tips are well appreciated!!

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield with a dragon companion:

Okay, so starting with the fact that the dwarves do not like dragons, it would be doubtful that they would want/allow one on the team, and if they did, it was probably due to Gandalf convincing them, especially Thorin, that the dragon could be useful.

While travelling, they would all be very cautious around it, although I think the amount of cautiousness would also depend on the size of the dragon. They wouldn't be as wary and scared with a smaller dragon as they would with a large one/fully grown one.

Once they eventually warm up to the dragon, they will treat it like an overgrown dog. Thorin would be the last one to warm up, that is *if* he warms up.

Listen, while I know this is the furthest thing from what Thorin would do, I can’t get the idea of him being the ‘’I'm not a cat (dragon) person, I don't like them’’ but then becoming best friends with that very same cat (dragon). However, for that to happen, the dragon would truly have to prove itself to him.

Once they reclaim Erebor (and everyone survives), Thorin would probably have a special room that has an easy exit for the dragon.

The first to take a liking to the dragon would probably be Bilbo, following Gandalf’s judgement.

Fili and Kili would try to stay strong and not give in to the curiosity and amazement of such a creature being peaceful with them, trying to be like their dear uncle. They crack soon enough and start playing with it.

I feel like Balin would also be quite quick to warm up to the dragon once he notices that it poses no threat to the company.

Moving on to travelling with the dragon

They could ride it, yes, but then again, it would depend on the size.

I feel like they won’t use it to fly over to the lonely mountain as they do know it would bring more harm than good

They would still use it to carry their stuff tho.

Sneaking the dragon around in the woods was easier, but once they got to Lake Town there was quite a problem.

I doubt they’d bring it to the actual town, but maybe they’d send it off to come to the mountain from the other side.

The dragon would still need to use the main gate (front gate??). Again, it would depend on the size, in my mind, the dragon is about the same size as Smaug or maybe a bit bigger.

Now when it comes to the fight with Smaug, the company’s dragon would most likely have a dilemma

On one hand, it wouldn’t want to fight its kin, but then again, the dwarves did trust it for so long.

The dragon would probably fight with Smaug, but the people of Lake Town would be set on killing off both

I don’t have that many ideas as to what would happen between the company’s dragon and Smaug, nor do I have ideas for what would happen during the battle of five armies.

I do believe that if the dragon survived the fight with Smaug and Lake Town it would stay with the dwarves until the very end

Other than that, I can't think of anything else, but I might add a few if I remember anything new