#samwise wc

[cloverplover]

the fellowship of the ring (family: felinae) :3

"lore" below the cut

so much thought went into this and i couldnt tell ya why!

all the cats shown are members of the subfamily felinae of felidae, which basically excludes big cats like lions and tigers (that can roar). since in lotr canon the fellowship takes place time-wise sort of after all the big players have come and gone, i think that all the remaining races would be smaller cats in comparison, to emulate that vibe of the end of an era. each character of a different race has a different genus- including boromir and aragorn, because a lynx is basically a fancier caracal and i thought that was funny.

felis, the housecat genus that the hobbits are in, actually has quite a few species, so i imagine that in this universe the more housecat you are, the more respectable a hobbit. however some cats (tooks!) are a bit more related to wild cats, hence why pippin looks like a sandcat.

gandalf, true to the books, is just sort of doing his own thing- everyone probably has a theory on what kind of cat he is but he won't confirm or deny any of them. aragorn knows but won't admit it. saruman, on the other hand, i imagine as a cheetah :3

the dwarf family also includes leopardus, which is small spotted cats. i chose a pallas cat for gimli (and then regretted it when coloring) because i thought it fit his vibe too well to pass up, but maybe thats just his family tree, who knows. i imagine them all with geometric spot patterns, better than how i drew gimli's, and very broad shoulders.

caracals are the only living member of their genus, so i also give cougars to men. maybe the house of rohan gets them. up to interpretation!

anyway. on to your regularly scheduled programming

[justsomerandomfanfic]

In The Garden, Where Flowers Grow - Samwise Gamgee X Female Reader

Title: In The Garden, Where The Flowers Grow

Samwise Gamgee X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Frodo, Reader's parents (Mentioned), Rosie Cotton (Mentioned), and other Hobbits (Mentioned)

WC: 3,357

Warnings: Love at first sight, italics, slightly insecure Reader, shy Reader, matchmaker Frodo, courting, how Hobbit's court specifically, mini angst, and fluff

You were in a bit of a predicament. You had fallen for your best friend’s gardener. Samwise Gamgee. He was your best friend’s, Frodo Baggins’, gardener. Sam would go over to prune, pluck, and overall beautify Frodo’s garden almost every day. He was incredibly good at his job too. He always left the gardens he tended to appear as if they were from story books. Pretty, organized, and beautiful. You were almost envious of his magnificent green thumb. 

But, as said, you had fallen for him. And you knew exactly when and where it had all happened too. 

You could remember it clearly. You had been visiting Frodo when you bumped into Sam. Now, usually when you visited Frodo, Sam had long finished his tending of the garden, so when you came by to visit, you had no clue that Sam had actually stayed over for Afternoon Tea - as a thank you from Frodo himself. 

Being such close friends with Frodo, and the Baggins’ in general, you didn’t knock on his round door or wait for anyone to let you in. With a bright smile, and a soft hum in the air, you just waltzed on in - running right into Sam who was just about to leave. 

With a ‘ow’ from both you and Sam, you finally looked up, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. And, the moment your eyes met his dark-honeyed ones, you fell; your hand rubbing your forehead slowing into a stop until it fell to your side. And, you had been falling ever since.

When you closed your eyes, you could still see his cute freckles, and the embarrassment that rushed, coating his cheeks, nose, and the tip of his ears pink. His eyes were wide, and a small worried frown on his face as he immediately apologized. 

“Oh, I am awfully sorry, Miss Y/N.” He spoke, all the while, you were wondering if he could see how taken you were with him. How your eyes shimmered, staring at every part of his face you could, taking him in. You wondered if he had noticed the way your breathing shallowed, how your heart raced, or even how your hands shook at your sides.

And, goodness, he knew your name.

Only when your eyes met Frodo’s over Sam’s shoulder briefly - seeing his confusion, and the light smirk on his lips - did you finally speak. “O- Oh, this is nothing you need to apologize for.” You finally spoke, trying to keep your stuttering at a minimum. “I was the one who didn’t knock.” You gave him a sheepish smile, in which he returned. 

Giving you a couple of nods of the head, his strawberry-blonde curls bouncing, Sam glanced over at Frodo, giving him a grin, “Thank you for the tea, Mister Frodo.”

“Thank you for joining me, Sam.” He spoke simply as the gardener turned back to look at you.

“It was lovely to have finally met you, Miss Y/N.” He spoke, and you nodded, feeling a flush erupt on your cheeks and neck.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sam.” And with that, he bid you both goodbye, leaving down the dirt and pebbled path. You stared at the open door, before you finally let a deep - but equally dreamy - sigh, pushing the round door shut. Turning, you pressed your back against the door, finally meeting the amused gaze of your best friend; who smirked, and crossed his arms. “Oh, Frodo,” You began with another sigh, clasping your hands together at your chest, your heart ever-racing, “You never did tell me how he had such beautiful curls.” You gushed, making Frodo shake his head with a soft chuckle. 

From that day forward, you had spoken to Sam a great many handful of times, along with admiring him from afar. You could not get over him. You constantly wondered how it was possible that you had never met Sam until that fateful afternoon during Afternoon Tea. You had visited Frodo more times than you could count, but every time it always seemed that Sam was done with his pruning and plucking long before you would arrive. It boggled your mind.

But, that didn’t matter now. Now, all you had to worry about was your ever-growing feelings for the Hobbit. In love, head over heels, smitten, bewitched, and infatuated; that was what you were. Never had you ever met someone so sweet, so caring, and so positively adorable as Samwise Gamgee. He had your very heart and soul, and you needed him to know. 

Yet, the one thing that was holding you back from confessing was yourself. You were nervous, scared even. You didn’t know if he’d like you - admire you - in return - maybe he would love someone more like Rosie Cotton? You weren’t as- well, you were more reserved, let’s say. You never were one for parties and festivities. You liked the quiet nights in, where you could cuddle up near the fire with a self-made crocheted blanket and a good book. 

But this feeling, this love you had for Sam, it was burning, devouring you whole from the inside out, and you knew that you had to say something before you absolutely exploded. The problem you had - aside from your nerves - was that you had no idea how to even go about confessing to him in the first place. Yes, a walk would be the first course of action, but just thinking about asking Sam to join you for a walk made your heart stutter.

And that was where Frodo came into the picture. Not only was he your best friend, but also a self-proclaimed matchmaker. You trusted him, with your life in fact, you knew that no matter what, Frodo would always have your back, and never steer you wrong. 

Frodo, on the other hand, was doing his best to help as much as he could. There was one night, during a party for an old Took’s birthday, that Frodo subtly asked Sam a few questions…

~~~

There was live music, Hobbits dancing, and laughter ringing throughout the air. It was another successful, enjoyable, joyful, and entertaining night. Frodo and Sam were sitting together at a picnic table, pints of ale in hand. Frodo tapped his toes against the grass to the tune of the song, and despite him seeming as if he was watching the other Hobbits dance, he was actually forming a plan within his very own mind. 

“Great party, isn’t it, Sam?” Frodo began, Sam’s eyes leaving the festivities to look at his friend and employer, and nod. 

“It is indeed true, Mister Frodo.” Sam spoke, lifting his pint to his lips and taking a sip, “Not a frown in sight.”

Frodo nodded right back, taking a sip of his ale before he cleared his throat, “Well, I am glad that you finally got to meet my friend Y/N a couple of days back,” He spoke over the music, Sam’s almost relaxed behavior shifting into a slightly more nervous one as Frodo continued to speak, “You know how long she has been my friend, I was really hoping to have the both of you meet at some point.”

“Me, Mister Frodo?” He asked, almost sounding surprised.

“Of course you, Sam.” Frodo answered, as if the question was ridiculous, “I consider you my friend as well. It was only right to have wished for my two good friends to meet.”

“Of course,” Sam mimicked, taking another sip as he shifted slightly in his seat. “Well, I am glad to have met someone so important to you.”

Frodo nodded, tilting his head to the side slightly, “What do you think of her? Y/N, I mean. I know you have spoken to her a good handful of times after your first… Bumpy encounter.” He teased lighty, and Sam froze very briefly, clearing his throat as he glanced around him; thinking, nervous. 

“Though our few encounters have been brief, I must say that she has always been very kind to me.” Sam answered, feeling a warmth in his cheeks.

“Would you want to spend more time with her?” Frodo then asked, “You know, since your moments together are so terribly brief and fleeting.”

Sam pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowing, “Why do I feel like somethin’ is amiss, Mister Frodo?” Sam narrowed his eyes slightly, “Why are you askin’ me so many… Odd questions?”

“Spfft,” Frodo waved a dismissive hand in the air, “It is nothing! I just would like to make sure my two friends get along. I would hate for any arguments to arise.” Now, Frodo didn’t actually believe that either of you would ever argue with the other. Both you and Sam were kind and compassionate Hobbits, always quick to help those in need and never ones to seek conflict. 

“Argue? With Miss Y/N?” Sam asked, chuckling softly with a shake of his head, “I can’t say that I can imagine that happenin’.” Sam finished, a small smile on his lips, his overall expression soft. Frodo just smiled, taking a sip of his ale. Sam then shifted in his seat again, his eyes drifting from his ale, to the top of the table, and then to around him: his eyebrows furrowed. “Mister Frodo?”

“Yes, Sam?” He answered, a small knowing smile appearing as Sam took in a breath.

“I am beginnin’ to like her somethin’ mighty fierce.” He confessed, his cheeks turning pink, and it wasn't only from the ale, “But I have my doubts that she wouldn’t like ol’ me, a simple gardener. A simple gardener fallin’ for the most beautiful Hobbit in all The Shire.” He sighed out as Frodo shook his head slightly at his words.

“Oh, I wouldn't cut yourself short, Sam.” Frodo raised his pint to his lips, smirking, “Who knows, she might surprise you.”

~~~

“Oh, Frodo,” You sighed out, taking the warm mug of your favorite cider into your hands, “I appreciate all of your advice and help, but I am worried that this is all for naught.”

With a mug in his own hands, Frodo took a seat in the chair across from yours, “Please do not lose hope, Y/N.” He spoke, trying to be reassuring, “Perhaps asking him to help with your garden was not the best recommendation. Since your garden is perfect.”

You nodded slowly, glancing at your rug, “Yes, it was quite awkward, asking him to tend my garden. The expression on his cute, adorable face - one of pure confusion, a slight pout, as he asked me why I asked him for help when my garden could rival his - made my cheeks burn.” You shook your head, “He even told me how pretty my flowers were.”

Frodo hummed, amused by your words, “You are quite taken with him.”

You worried on your bottom lip, staring down at the golden-brown liquid of your cider, “Since the moment my eyes met his, Frodo.” You said softly, a small gentle smile slipped onto your face, “Sam is wonderful… It might sound quite silly, but he reminds me of a perfect Spring morning, fluttering butterflies and- and glittering rainbows…” Your almost love-sick smile slipped as your mind began to race. “But, I am terribly worried, Frodo.” You muttered, Frodo’s smile dropping at your disheartened tone.

He placed down his mug on the small table beside his chair, “What worries you so, my friend?”

You bit your lip once more, casting your gaze to the fire in the hearth, “W-what if he doesn’t see me the way I see him?” Frodo nodded along as you spoke, your rambling growing faster as you continued, but he sat and listened for you. “What if he sees only my kindness, and not the interest within?”

“Y/N,” Frodo finally spoke, his tone calm, compared to your flustered rambling, “You do not need to worry.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes full of understanding.

You felt your heartbeat slow just a little at his reassuring words, but the doubt lingered. “But what if… What if I ask him to join me for a walk and he turns me down? I do not think I can take the heartbreak. I would have to move, far, far away-”

Frodo smiled warmly, shaking his head. “Y/N. If he wasn’t interested, he would find a way to be kind but truthful. And from what I’ve seen… Well, I’m fairly certain Sam looks at you the same way you look at him.”

You blinked, surprised, hopeful. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Frodo said, “I believe that it is time for me to head home.” He stood, as did you. The both of you headed to your front door, but before he turned to leave, he gave you some final words, “Everything will work out alright. Sam will be at my hole gardening tomorrow. You can come by then, and I’ll see to it that he takes a well-deserved break.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile, before you shut the door. Letting out a deep sigh, you rubbed your cheek as you thought. Casting your gaze around the room, you made your way to the kitchen. It probably wasn’t the best idea to go and stress-bake, but you really wanted some cookies. 

~~~

With your heart and your woven basket in hand, you made your way to Frodo’s home. You tried to pay attention to the sound of your footsteps against the dirt and cobbled path, but the rough beating of your heart, pounding against your chest and ears, was very distracting. You had never done this before, trying to court someone; asking them to join you for a walk. It was nerve-wracking. But you had heard your mother and father speak often about their courtship, how they met, and what your father did to show his interest in your mother. 

Their story gave you some hope.

All you had to do was ask him. Plain and simple. Just ask if he would like to join you for a walk. If he rejects you, then you would keep your head held high, and maybe cry when you get home. It was a whole nother story if he agreed to the walk. What would you say, and talk about? Your skin itched at the thoughts racing throughout your mind. 

Finally, you had reached the gate. And there, kneeling on the ground, hands digging in the dirt, making room for a new sprout, was Sam. You felt your breath hitch at the sight of him, working so hard, under the beating sun. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his forearm against his forehead, ridding the sweat, before going back to tending the garden. 

“Miss Y/N?” You heard his voice, it breaking you out of whatever daze you were in and immediately making your cheeks flush and your heart burst into a million butterflies; they began to swarm. Sam looked at you, also happy to see you; there was that sweet smile on his face. Oh goodness, he had caught you staring. How long have you been staring?

Your hands tightened on the gate, the skin of your knuckles turning white as you gave him a sheepish smile, “Hello, Sam.” You finally greeted him, and for another moment, you were caught - trapped in the warmth of his gaze, unable to tear yourself away.

"Hello, Miss Y/N," Standing from where he had been kneeling, he more formally greeted you at the gate. “How are you this lovely morn?” He asked, and you shuffled a foot against the ground, glancing away briefly before meeting his honeyed gaze again.

“I- I am well, thank you for asking. I was just… Out for a bit of fresh air. How are you?” You asked, “Seems like Frodo’s garden is coming along wonderfully.”

Sam nodded, his smile brightening as he glanced over at his almost-finished work, nodding, and then back to you, “Yes, it is comin’ alon’ alright,” He said, glancing back at you with a humble grin. “Mister Frodo’s always been particular about his flowers, but I reckon he’ll be pleased.”

You swallowed hard, a noticeable tingle running down your spine as you watched him talk, his lips curving into that familiar, shy smile that always seemed to reach his warm, brown eyes. His soft curls bounced gently as he nodded, and the sun cast a golden hue over his freckled cheeks, making him glow with a simple, wholesome charm.

His hands, covered in dirt from the ground, rested awkwardly at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. It all made your heart skip in ways you could barely understand and comprehend.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze flicked toward you occasionally, as if he was a bit shy about holding your gaze too long. But when his eyes did meet yours, it was like the world around you both faded, leaving only the two of you in that moment. Samwise Gamgee was so much more than you ever expected - kind, honest, and so utterly humble that it made your heart ache just to be near him.

But now, standing here, your nerves tangled like roots in the soil beneath you. You couldn't breathe for a moment. Were you ever breathing? You had to ask him. You had to. It was either now or never. 

“Sam,” You began, your voice softer now, a touch of uncertainty creeping in, “I was wondering…” Your fingers tightened on the edge of the gate again as you tried to gather the courage to continue; unable to meet his curious gaze. “Would you… I mean, if you are not too busy or anything… Would you like to join me on my walk?”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, and he blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “A- A walk?” He echoed, his cheeks flushing a bit pink. “With you?”

You nodded quickly, your heart racing. “Y- Yes. I thought it might be nice…  You know, to get to know each other more?” Hesitantly, you finally raised your eyes to meet his, before you peeled your hands from the gate and opened your basket. You held your breath as you revealed a small bouquet of flowers, bundled together with an orange ribbon. “I also picked these for you. Grown from my own garden. I know that they are not as grand as yours or Frodo’s,” You added quickly, your voice trembling slightly, “But, I thought you might like them.”

Sam’s eyes widened with surprise, and for a moment, he was speechless. His freckled cheeks turned rosy pink, and his heart began to race as he stared at the flowers in your hands, before looking back up at you.

“Miss Y/N…” Sam began, “Thank you. I must say it once more, but your flowers are beautiful.” He went to reach out for them, but stopped, glancing down at his dirt-covered hands. Embarrassed, he quickly wiped what dirt he could from off of them, brushing them on his apron. He then gently reached out and took the bouquet, his fingers just brushing against yours, sending a spark through his skin. He examined the flowers as if they were something precious, his smile growing wider, more bashful. “Well now,” He mumbled, “If you don’t mind my company. I’d be happy to join you, Miss Y/N.”

You felt the tension in your shoulders ease, your heart soaring at his words. “Oh, I don’t mind at all, Sam,” You replied, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I would like it very much.”

With a hand, Sam quickly untied his apron, before opening the gate and joining you by your side, tossing his apron to rest it over the top of the gate as he shut it. Giving you that grin that could turn you right into mush, Sam offered you his arm for you to take, the butterflies in your stomach began to flutter wildly at the action.

And, from the window, Frodo grinned as he watched the two of you walk down the dirt path, heading towards the nearby meadows, arm-in-arm.

---

Main Masterlist | The Hobbit/Lord Of The Rings Masterlist

[stranger-stardustt]

For @steddiemicrofic bonus prompt: birthday! Happy birthday!!!! wc | 290 | Rating: G | CW: None | Tags: Domestic fluff, cat parents

-

Steve woke up to a loud clang from the kitchen, followed by a sharp hiss and a chorus of profanities. He smiled, turning on his side to look at the time. The clock read 7:12; Eddie wasn’t usually up this early.

Curious, Steve rolled out of bed and walked toward the source of the noise. His eyes fell on Eddie's shadow as he approached, long curly hair bouncing with each frenzied step the man took. The kitchen smelled faintly of fish, and as he got closer, Steve saw why.

On the counter was a tray of small, round blobs, each with a candle on top. They were an odd sight, shaped like an attempt at cupcakes but colored something Steve thought no human should eat.

“Eddie,” he said slowly, pulling his boyfriend’s attention toward him. “Eddie, baby, what is this?”

Eddie turned, a wild grin on his lips. “A birthday present,” he sang.

Steve blinked. “For who?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie made a face that one could describe as mocking, perhaps even playfully scornful. “Don’t tell me you forgot our daughter's birthday.”

With a glance to the left, Steve looked at Sammie, a tabby cat the two of them had rescued. “You made her cupcakes?”

Sammie meowed.

“Of course I did!” Eddie exclaimed, dancing toward her and scooping her up. She purred, nuzzling into his chest in an act of favoritism. “It’s our little Hobbit’s first birthday, she deserves something nice!”

“Okay…” Steve said, looking back at the cakes. “Please tell me that’s like fish pate or something, and not like, human cake.”

Eddie scoffed. “Your father takes me as a fool, Samwise,” he said with a smile.

Steve gave both his daughter and boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

[clover-warriorcats-main]

PART 2

PART 1

- Q -

Quailfeather (CotC)

Quailfeather (TBC)

Quailheart

Quailkit (WC)

Quick Water

Quickpaw

Quiet Rain

Quietkit

Quince

- R -

Rabbitear

Rabbitfur

Rabbitleap (SkC)

Rabbitleap (TC)

Rabbitstar

Rabbittail

Rage (Boar)

Raggedstar

Rain (AVoS)

Rain (DotC)

Rain That Passes Quickly

Rain That Rattles On Stones

Raincloud

Raindrop

Rainfall

Rainflower

Rainfur (SkC)

Rainfur (TC)

Rainleap

Rainsplash

Rainstorm

Rainswept Flower

Rainwhisker

Rapidkit

Rascal

Ratscar

Raven (AVoS)

Ravenpaw

Ravenstar

Ravenwing

Red (SD)

Red Claw

Redclaw

Redscar

Redstar

Redtail

Redthistle

Redwillow

Reed Tail

Reedclaw

Reedfeather

Reedshine (CotC)

Reedshine (MV)

Reedstar

Reedtail

Reedwhisker

Reena (KP)

Reena (Ro)

Ridgekit

Riga

Rileypool

Ripple Shine

Rippleclaw

Ripplestar

Rippletail (RC)

Rising Moon

Riverstar

Roach

Robinkit

Robinstar

Robinwing (RC)

Robinwing (SkC)

Robinwing (TC)

Robinwing (WC)

Rock

Rock Beneath Still Water

Rockfall

Rockshade

Rocky

Rook

Rooktail

Root

Rootspring

Rose (FQ)

Rose (TS)

Rosebush

Rosepetal

Rosetail

Rowanberry

Rowanclaw(star)

Rowanfur

Rowankit (ASC)

Rowanstar (CotC)

Rubblekit

Rubblepaw

Ruby

Rufus

Rumble

Running Fox

Running Horse

Runningbrook

Runningnose

Runningstorm

Runningwind

Rushpaw (BotC)

Rushtail (RC)

Rushtail (WC)

Rushtooth

Russetfur

Rust

Ryestalk

Ryewhisker

- S -

Sage (Lo)

Sagenose

Sagewhisker

Samwise (Dog)

Sandgorse

Sandstorm

Sandynose

Sasha

Scarlet

Scooby

Scorchfur

Scorchwind

Scourge

Scout

Scowl

Scrap

Scraps

Scree (Ro)

Scree Beneath Winter Sky

Screech Of Angry Owl

Scruff

Sedgecreek

Sedgestar

Sedgewhisker

Seedpaw

Seedpelt (FQ)

Seedpelt (MV)

Seedpelt (PC)

Seville

Shade Pelt

Shaded Moss

Shadepelt (AVoS)

Shadepelt (TPB)

Shadestar (Tiger)

Shadowsight

Shadowstar

Shannon

Shanty

Sharp Hail

Sharpclaw (SkC)

Sharptooth (Cougar)

Shattered Ice

Sheeptail

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall

Shell Claw

Shellfur

Shellheart

Shimmerpelt (BrS)

Shimmerpelt (CP)

Shine

Shiningheart

Shivering Rose

Shnuky

Shorty

Shredtail

Shrewclaw

Shrewfoot

Shrewpaw (TC)

Shrewtooth

Shy Fawn

Shyfrost

Shyheart

Silt

Silver

Silver Frost

Silver Stripe

Silverflame

Silverhawk

Silvermask

Silverpaw (BotC)

Silverpaw (TPB)

Silverstream

Skipper

Skyheart

Skystar

Skywatcher

Slant

Slash

Slate (DotC)

Slate (IH)

Slatefur

Slatepelt

Sleek Fur

Sleekwhisker

Slightfoot

Sloefur (RC)

Sloefur (ShC)

Smallear

Smallstar

Smoke

Smokefoot

Smokehaze

Smokepaw (SotC)

Smokepaw (TNP)

Smoketalon

Smoky

Smudge

Snail (Ro)

Snail (Sister)

Snail Shell

Snailpaw

Snake (DotC)

Snaketail (FQ)

Snaketail (PoT)

Snaketooth (RC)

Snaketooth (ShC)

Snapper

Snaptooth

Sneezecloud

Sniff

Snipe

Snipkit

Snookthorn

Snow (Sister)

Snow Falling On Stones

Snow Hare

Snow Tail

Snowbird

Snowbush

Snowdrop

Snowflake (KP)

Snowflake (Ro)

Snowfur

Snowkit (TPB)

Snowstar

Snowtuft

Snowy

Socks

Softpelt

Softwing

Sol

Songbird

Songleap

Soot

Sootfur

Sorrelshine

Sorrelstripe

Sorreltail

Sparkpelt

Sparrow (CotP)

Sparrow (Ro)

Sparrow (Sister)

Sparrowfeather (DF)

Sparrowfeather (StC)

Sparrowpelt (SkC)

Sparrowstar

Sparrowtail

Speckle

Specklepaw

Speckletail

Spider (Lo)

Spider (Sister)

Spider Paw

Spiderfoot

Spiderleg

Spiderpelt

Spiderstar

Spike (Dog)

Spikefur

Spiketail

Spireclaw

Spiresight

Splash (KP)

Splash When Fish Leaps

Splashfoot

Splashheart

Splashkit (CP)

Splashnose

Splashpaw (TNP)

Splashtail

Splinter

Spotfur

Spotted Fur

Spottedleaf

Spottedpaw (ShC)

Spottedpelt

Spring Claw

Squirrel (CotP)

Squirrel (Sister)

Squirrelfur

Squirrelstar

Squirrelwhisker

Stagleap (TC)

Stagleap (WC)

Stalk Purr

Star Flower

Star That Shines On Water

Starlingfeather

Starlingwing

Stemleaf

Stempaw (ASC)

Stick

Stoat

Stoatfur (ShC)

Stoatfur (SkC)

Stone (DotC)

Stone (HJ)

Stone (Sister)

Stone Song (DotC)

Stone Song (PoT)

Stoneclaw

Stonefur

Stonepelt

Stonestar

Stonestream

Stonetooth

Stonewing

Storkkit

Storm (Ro)

Storm Clouds At Dusk

Storm Pelt

Stormcloud

Stormfur

Stormheart

Stormtail

Streak

Stream

Streamkit

Stretch Blink

Strike Slash

Strikestone

Stripekit

Stripes

Stripestar

Strong Pounce

Stumpytail

Sun Shadow

Sunbeam

Sunfish

Sunflower

Sunnypelt

Sunnytail

Sunpelt (Lion)

Sunpelt (SkC)

Sunrise (Sister)

Sunshine

Sunspots

Sunstar

Sunstrike

Susan

Suzy

Swallow

Swallowflight

Swallowtail (RC)

Swallowtail (WC)

Swampkit

Swankit

Sweetbriar

Sweetpaw

Sweetums

Swift (DotC)

Swift Minnow

Swiftbreeze

Swiftflight

Swiftfoot

Swiftpaw (TPB)

Swiftstar (Leopard)

Swiftwing

Swoop Of Chestnut Hawk

- T -

Tadpole

Tallpoppy

Tallstar

Talon Of Swooping Eagle

Talonpaw

Talonstar

Tangle

Tangleburr

Tanglepaw (RC)

Tanglewhisker

Tansy

Tansypaw (SkC)

Tawnyfur

Tawnypelt

Tawnyspots

Taylor

Teller Of The Pointed Stones (OotS)

Teller Of The Pointed Stones (TNP)

Tempest

Tess

Thistle (Ro)

Thistle (TC)

Thistleclaw

Thistleheart

Thistlepaw (CotC)

Thistlepaw (TNP)

Thistletail

Thorn (SkC)

Thorn That Grows In Cleft

Thornclaw

Thorntooth (Tiger)

Thrushpelt (TC)

Thrushpelt (WC)

Thrushtalon

Thrushwing

Thunderstar

Tiger Tail

Tigerstar (AVoS)

Tigerstar (TPB)

Timberfur

Tiny Branch

Tinycloud

Toad (Ro)

Toadfoot

Toadskip

Toadstep

Tom (ES)

Tom-Tom

Tommy

Tornear

Tree

Trout Fur

Troutclaw

Troutkit

Troutstar

Troutstream

Tulipkit

Tumble Leap

Tumblekit

Tuna

Turtle Tail

Turtlecrawl

Turtlekit (ShC)

Twig

Twigbranch

Twigtail

Twist

Twisted Branch

Tyr

- V -

Velvet (AVoS)

Velvet (SD)

Victor

Vinestar

Vinetail

Violet

Violet Dawn

Violetshine

Vixenleap

Voleclaw

Volestar

Voletooth

Volewhisper

- W -

Wafflepaw

Wanderkit

Wasp

Wasptail

Waspwhisker

Wavepaw

Weaselfur

Weaselkit

Weaselwhisker

Webfoot

Webkit

Webster

Wee Hen

Weedwhisker

Weevil

Wetfoot

Whiskers

Whisper Claw

Whispering Breeze

Whisperkit

Whistle

Whistlepaw

White Tail

Whiteberry

Whitebreeze

Whiteclaw

Whitefang

Whitestar

Whitestorm

Whitetail (StC)

Whitetail (WC)

Whitethroat

Whitewater

Whitewing

Whorlpelt

Wildfur

Wildkit

Willie

Willow Stream

Willow Tail

Willowbreeze

Willowclaw

Willowkit (CP)

Willownose

Willowpelt

Willowshine

Willowstar

Windflight

Windstar

Wing Shadow Over Water

Wish Stalk

Wishkit

Wolfheart

Wolfstep

Woodkit (RC)

Woodlouse

Woodsong

Woody

Woollytail

Wrenflight (SkC)

Wrenflight (WC)

- Y -

Yarrowleaf

Yellowfang

Yellowstar

Yew

Yew Tail

- Z -

Zack

Zeke

Zelda

Ziggy

[marmosetpaw]

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIVE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, harassment/cat calling, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 6.1k+

→ a/n: shout out to @abibliophobiaa for helping me figure this chapter out lol.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

5:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR FIVE - 8:00 PM

Civility. What a fragile construct. 

You and Eddie are hyper aware of its presence as the minutes pass. It’s a glass wall between the two of you, offering false security and fragile mediation. When he brings up dinner, and there’s no sign of agreement any time soon as he wants the opposite of every suggestion you make, you catch your reflection in it, reminding yourself to carefully think over your words. Every insult manages to catch in your throat, to simmer until softened to something appropriate. And you know he’s doing exactly the same thing as his pauses begin to drag out between replies, as you lose count of the number of times he’s opened his mouth only to immediately snap it shut. 

It works, though. Even with the weight of the agreement in the room, the wall takes the pressure in stride. There’s not a single crack emerging. 

Eddie still sits on the couch with you, this time the TV is turned on to some cable show rerun that has turned into background noise for the two of you. 

He never moved back to the opposite end of the couch. One wrong move, and your thigh could easily press into his, sink into the warmth that radiates from him. It’s all you can think about as he is trying to convince you that the Lord of the Rings books are worth reading, especially if you enjoy the movies. 

If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have noticed when he cuts off suddenly. You would have stopped listening long ago. Which is a shame, not that you’d admit it, because he actually had interesting points to make. 

“What?” you scrunch your nose as his stare hardens across the room, at something by the TV. Suddenly, the almost-glare blooms into delight, and you can’t breathe. 

“We’ve managed to be civil for a whole forty-five minutes.”

You finally follow his gaze and realize he had been looking at the small cable box, blinking blue numbers on the front screen reading the time. 

“Oh,” you say softly, fighting a grin to match his current one, “Yeah, we have been. That’s gotta be a new record.” 

It hadn’t been easy, but it had been doable. Maybe the hours could continue to be less doable. 

“You know, I thought you would have told me to shut up about my nerd shit by now,” he muses, bringing a hand up to carefully rub at his stubbled chin, legs spreading a bit further as he remains reclined into the cushions beside you. 

His knee brushes yours. You still haven’t found your breath that had escaped you from watching his eyes light up in realization. 

“I came pretty close,” you tease and nearly lean in, nearly pressing your knee harder into his. 

It was becoming too easy to act this way with him. You try to think of a time you’d ever given this such room to breathe. But you draw nothing but blanks, save for the first night you’d met Eddie. A night that had been blossoming with buds of hopefulness and blind optimism that had been cursed to die on the vine. 

Although, maybe not all of them had died. There might have been a few dwindlers, and they might have found themselves finally watered after such a harsh winter between the two of you in the revelation of fragile civility these last forty-five minutes. 

“Was it when I went on my ten minute rant about how cool it would have been to bring up werewolves in the movies? Or was it my passion for Samwise being a singer?” your head falls back in gentle laughter, closing your eyes for a second. He goes as far as to nudge your shoulder with his own, “Come on, I’m serious! I do hear myself sometimes, you know. I know when I’m being Lord of the Dorks over here.” 

Your shoulder burns where he had bumped it. Not from pain. 

Your eyes are still closed as you shake your head, “No, no. I think I actually agree with the werewolves, but I’m still on the fence about turning the movies into musicals.” 

When you finally do open your eyes, head rolling to face him and press your cheek atop your burning shoulder, you find him staring at you. Which would have been fine, no big deal, if he was still grinning vibrantly. 

He’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion, an emotion you’d not only never seen him look at you with, but any of your shared friends. It’s almost as if he’s no longer in the room with you.

You’re immediately worried you’ve offended him, “Oh, shit. Are you into musicals? I’m sorry, I tried to get into them, but I just-”

“I am,” the emotion drains from his eyes as he snaps back to reality, “I… But I mean, I get it. Not everyone is into musicals, I was just a theater kid.” 

“A theater kid?” your worry is long gone as you sit up, looking at him excitedly, “No way. I would have never guessed that you, Eddie Munson, the most dramatic person I know, were a theater kid.” 

He looks down bashfully, and his curls form a curtain around his face. His dimples are effectively hidden as he shyly smiles, and you’re kind of glad for it. “Shut up. Buckley’s more dramatic than I am. Have you ever heard her go off on one of her rabies rambles?” 

“Of course. She was also a theater kid.” 

“Oh, trust me - I know. We’ve bonded.” 

The conversation dwindles, but the ghost of the dimples don’t. He tucks some of the stray strands of the curtain behind his ear, and you start to regret ever noticing the damn things. 

“We never decided on dinner, you know,” you blurt out and change the topic, because you desperately need something to distract you right now. You’re starting to believe you might prefer arguing with him to whatever storm was building beneath the surface of civility.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, turning to look at the clock again, “You’re right.” 

Never thought I’d hear you saying that to me of all people, you bite back from saying. 

“Most places are closing soon,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, surely thinking back on the way you couldn’t come to an agreement earlier. If you dived back into that, you’d probably spend the rest of the night bickering. But then he lights up again, just as he had when he’d realized your record-breaking streak of civility, “Say, you like bar food?” 

—

“Eddie, I really can’t afford overpriced bar food!” 

“And I already said I’d pay for you.”

“What about our photo proof? We were supposed to send it ten minutes ago.” 

“You texted them mentioning we’ll be a little late with it, right?” 

“Yeah, but-” 

“Then it’s fine.” 

The entire ten minute walk from Eddie’s apartment to what he claims is his favorite bar in town had been filled with the endless bickering, still managing to be lighthearted enough to not cause any cracks in the civility. 

He’d chastised you about making excuses, and you hated him, because he was right. Every issue you’d brought up about going to the bar with him had been easily solved with one of his solutions. You were grasping for straws at this point.

Because you were nervous. Nervous that civility wouldn’t hold up in public, nervous that if alcohol was added to the equation that tongues would get too loose. 

But none of it mattered. When Eddie initially suggested going to the bar, he’d caught your smile at the idea and realized you two had finally found common ground. He was now a man on a mission. 

“I really don’t want you paying for me,” you huff as he holds the door to the bar open for you, motioning for you to enter before him. 

“It’s really not that expensive, you can pay me back later if you really want,” he waves off, “Buy me a drink or something while we’re here, even.” 

You’d always witnessed Eddie being generous with your friends, always known that he was altruistic as he’d offer to pay for people. Half the time, he never made them pay him back. All he cared about when with friends was everyone having fun. And you’d never been on the receiving end of that — not until tonight. 

He bumps into you when you stop just a few steps into the bar’s entry, glancing around the small room. It wasn’t much, two pool tables set up on the far end of the building, a full bar taking up most of the space inside. You could see some sort of jukebox sitting unplugged in the corner and several booths were occupied with patrons already. 

It was cozy. It wasn’t going out of its way to impress anyone, and it’s probably why you’d never come inside before. From the outside, you hardly were able to decipher it was a bar, especially in the darkness of the night. 

“Sorry,” you turn to apologize, his hands feather light on your biceps to make sure you didn’t stumble from the force of his impact.

He waves it off just as he had waved off your concerns of him picking up the bill for the night, focusing instead on your reaction, “You like it?”

“It’s… nice,” you offer with a shrug as he guides you to the bar. There definitely weren’t any open tables; it was a Saturday night, and even if the place was capable of giving off quaint vibes, there was an abundance of college students who had the same idea as you and him had. 

None of them were locked into the same agreement as you two, though. You were sure of it.

The bartender greets Eddie by name, beaming as he promises he’ll come over with his usual soon. 

“Wow,” you laugh, lifting yourself onto a stool beside him, “You weren’t kidding about it being your usual hangout.”

“I swear I’m not an alcoholic or anything,” he rushes out, “I just… I dunno. Like you said, it’s nice here.” 

You couldn’t believe it. If you dared to look into his words further, you’d swear that Eddie was trying to avoid tarnishing your view of him. He’d never cared about that before.

“I wouldn’t judge you,” you say once the two of you have settled into your seats. Stools were never going to be more comfortable than a booth, but it would do for the next hour. “If you were an alcoholic. I mean, we’re college students. Kind of part of the whole gig,” He looks at you and quirks an eyebrow as he grabs one of the menus from the sticky wood surface in front of you two, “Every college student can be promised three things: unimaginable debt for a stupid piece of paper, the ability to run off of far less sleep than anyone ever should, and a terrible reliance on alcohol.” 

He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “You’re funny.” 

The surviving buds on the vine nearly prepare to bloom, just about ready to untuck themselves from your chest and press against the glass wall of civility. 

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That I’m funny,” your biting grin is infectious, “Tell me again and stroke my ego, big boy.” 

He flushes pink on the apples of his cheeks, bright and furious even under the dim lighting of the bar, “Oh, fuck off. I’m never complimenting you again.” 

Your newest enemies, those fucking dimples, and the way the blush spreads as he glances down at the menu suddenly become too much. The combination has the ability to choke you, to possibly make your heart stop, if it isn’t for the bartender finally interrupting the moment. 

“Hey there, Eds,” the man not much older than the two of you greets, looking at you with unbridled curiosity, “And… lady friend of Eds.” 

You don’t know why, but you tell the stranger your name. Sweet and low, soft spoken compared to the way you had just been blatantly teasing the boy at your side. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he chimes with the type of charisma you’re familiar with when it comes to the food industry. You didn’t make tips if you weren’t kind, if you weren’t borderline flirting with nearly every customer by overflowing with friendliness and compliments, “So, I’ve got your regular here,” he places a glass in front of Eddie, something dark with a few sparse bubbles, “What can I get for you, though?” he turns to you. 

You glance over at the menu Eddie holds, and he shifts it so you can see it better. But as your eyes glance over the drink options, nothing grabs your attention. 

“Full bar, right?” you feel a bit foolish as the man waves behind at the large wall filled with bottles of a variety of alcohol. Duh. “You know how to make an amaretto sour?” 

The man grins widely, nodding enthusiastically before turning to Eddie, “She’s got good taste. I’ll be right back with it for you, hun.” 

The moment the bartender leaves, Eddie is leaning in closer to you, mimicking you in a falsetto, “Full bar, right?”

His cologne is nice. Something spicy, almost musky. Fitting for him.

You don’t hesitate to shove his shoulder, “Shut up. We’re supposed to be civil, remember?” 

“Ah, I see,” his eyes mischievously glint, enjoying this bout of satirizing far too much, “You can tease me, but I can’t tease you. That sound about right?” 

“Exactly,” you sigh jokingly, unable to look at him, already knowing the smile he’s wearing, “Sorry you didn’t get the first memo.” 

He finally, finally, stops leaning in towards you, and carries the scent of his cologne with him. You decide to lock away that detail of him into the same eternal prison of your brain with the dimples. Another thing about him you need to forget after the twenty fours end. 

“My bad, sweetheart. At least I’m up to date now.” 

You ignore the vine as it tightens at the casual use of the nickname again. There’s no need to dive deeper into that reaction. 

“What’s his name?” you finally look at him, eyes catching on the slope of his nose and sharp jaw in the smoky atmosphere. 

“Who? The bartender?” you nod, and he takes a sip of his drink, “Frank. He’s really nice, looks a lot younger than he is, lucky bastard.” 

“What, you don’t think you’ll age so gracefully?” you’re back to teasing Eddie, because God, is it easy. It’s a perfect medium between the two of you. Still biting, still a little mean, but not harmful. It’s innocent and refreshing, breathing a new wave of novelty into your relationship, wherever it may currently stand.

“Who’s not aging gracefully?” The bartender, Frank, questions as he places your amaretto sour in front of you. You mutter your thanks, “Because if you’re talking about Eds here, you’re right. Think this guy has aged ten years in the six months I’ve known him.” 

Six months? You don’t know why you’re so shocked, but part of you had just figured he’d been coming to this bar for as long as he’d lived in his apartment. Which, to be fair, you didn’t know how long he’d occupied that space, either. It had to have been at least a year. There’s been no mention of him moving the entire time you’ve known him. 

“I have not,” Eddie defends himself, hand gripping his drink. 

“Have too,” Frank ends the argument there, not giving Eddie a chance for rebuttal before he lets his gaze go back and forth between the two of you, “So, any food tonight, or just drinks?” 

“Could we actually get an order of garlic parmesan fries?” Eddie is surprisingly polite, and looks at you after he’s placed the order, “If that’s okay with you?” 

You blink, taken back by his consideration, “Um, yeah. That sounds good.” 

Frank nods, “Fries. Got it. Anything else?” 

Eddie is still looking at you, subtly moving the menu closer to you, as if urging you to help yourself. You pick up the laminated paper, and your knuckles brush against his before you’re glancing over your options.

You curse yourself as your hands shake. You’re not nervous – why are they shaking? 

“Are your mozzarella sticks any good?” you finally ask, peering up at Frank.

“They’re excellent. Also, not to brag, but our marinara is the best in town. I swear it.” 

You look to Eddie, as if seeking out permission, and he nods ever so slightly, “I’ll take your word for it. One order of those, please.” 

“Of course. One order of fries and one order of mozzarella sticks coming right up.” 

With that, Frank leaves you and Eddie on your own again, somehow feeling secluded and alone even on the edges of the bustling room. It’s as if there’s a bubble around the two of you, unbreachable by the strangers that surround you. 

Your phone buzzing in your pocket catches your attention, just as it had done numerous times thus far this night, and you pull it out to see two new notifications from Steve.

STEVE-O: photo. 

STEVE-O: now.

You don’t realize Eddie was reading the messages over your shoulder until he suddenly chuckles, “Jesus, when did Harrington become so demanding?” 

“He’s always been this way,” you mutter as you quickly open your phone, the camera app already being opened from your previously provided evidence, “Consider yourself lucky to not be in the groupchat. His attitude grows tenfold through texts.” 

“Clearly.” 

You turn the phone awkwardly in one hand, choosing to go for a wider shot that captures the bar setting behind you and Eddie. He grabs his glass, holding up his drink as if he’s cheersing the camera. 

You’re about to take the photo, when Eddie suddenly sighs, “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging.” 

His free hand nudges your own drink into your hand, and you take it without complaint. 

You both hold up your glasses, forcing mimicry of annoyed expressions directed at the camera and not each other. 

The moment the click of the photo being taken is lost into the atmosphere of the bar, chatter of nearby strangers and clinking of beer bottles together, Eddie’s attention is fully on you.

“To civility,” he says, moving his glass in a grandiose gesture towards yours. 

You take a second before you register it. You’re too busy mapping out his face beyond the dimples, beyond the wild curls that catch the bar lighting just right, all the way up to the hiding freckle beneath his right eye and the cotton candy shade of pink of his pursed lips. It’s as if you’re pressing your cheeks into the wall of civility between you and letting the glass fog over with your breath. As if you’re just now seeing Eddie for the first time, no cloak of hatred or distortion of annoyance to keep you from his memorizing features. 

You shake your head, try to physically rid your head of the uncharted thoughts before you clink your glass to his, “To civility.” 

—

Maybe civility isn’t such a fragile concept. Maybe, just maybe, it’s a reasonable foundation for yours and Eddie’s night. 

Over garlic parmesan fries and mozzarella sticks, and several refills of your amaretto sour and his Jack & Coke (you’d found that out when you’d ask to try his drink, and had grimaced at the harsh whiskey), you two practice the act of it almost flawlessly. 

Eddie tells you a bit more about the first time he’d wandered across this bar, how he’d been kicked out of a different one earlier that night and simply wasn’t ready to go home yet. Somehow, after the story, once he’s shed his leather jacket to drape over the back of his seat and you find yourself angling your body towards him more fully, the attention focuses more on you meeting the group. 

You both have to lean in closer to each other, what at the beginning of the night should have been too close for comfort, as the bar grows busier. You tell him about freshman year of college, that wretched 8 AM math class that’s only redeeming quality was bringing you and Steve together. He was better at math than you, or at least taking notes on the subject. Somehow, the two of you had ended up in an agreement of being ‘study buddies’, as Steve had nicknamed it. Two years later, after several more deliberately shared classes, Steve had finally decided to introduce the girl he’d been ditching their Thursday movie nights for to the gang. It had started with Robin – she’d been in a Psychology class with you and Steve – and all the pieces fell together from there. 

“I still can’t believe you and Harrington never… you know….” Eddie trails off and downs the last of his third Jack & Coke. When Frank motions from across the bar if he’d like a refill, Eddie shakes his head and covers the top of his glass with his wide palm. 

His rings glinted in the low lights, and your stomach did flips. You blame it on the fourth amaretto sour you were nursing. 

“Oh, trust me,” the alcohol has your lips moving more loosely, giggling between your words, “We definitely thought about it. Even got wine drunk one night our sophomore year and tried it.” 

“What?” Eddie exclaims, leaning so far into your space now that his curls brush your bare shoulders, “No way. No fucking way.” 

“Yes way!” your face grows pink, more from laughter than embarrassment, “It was awful! I mean, in our defense we were both drunk, but still. I just…” you sigh out, and lean back in your stool without even noticing that Eddie has his arm draped over the back of it, “We both realized we were way better off friends. I’m a better wing-woman for him now than some fling.” 

“Don’t let Robin hear you,” Eddie chuckles, popping a fry in his mouth before he relaxes back as well. His arm is still on the back of your chair. “You know, he did talk you up a lot before he introduced you to everyone.” 

“Yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. 

Eddie’s brows furrow as he nods viciously, “Oh, God, yeah. Had us all thinking he was just in denial about having a thing for you.” 

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah. Only good things. Besides, once Robin met you? It was game over,” if you had been watching Eddie more carefully, you would have seen that unrecognizable emotion crossing his face once more, glazing over his eyes rather than the alcohol he’d consumed, “They really do love you, y’know?” 

You don’t know. Which is a shame. Because on your good days, you’d usually tell yourself that they do enjoy your company, that you do fit into the group. But doubt had an easy job of having its way with you when Eddie existed, when Eddie seemingly loathes you. 

Your silence answers his rhetorical-turned-serious question, and he’s suddenly leaning forward to catch your gaze, “You do know that… right?” 

Your shrug makes his arm fall off of your chair, not intentionally so. It had simply gotten closer to your shoulders with the time passing, and the movement makes it fall limply to his side. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie groans in what you’re realizing is his usual, playful demeanor, “The entire group loves you so much, it’s irritating. Never shut up about you, inviting you to plans, all that shit.”

“You don’t,” your voice is a whisper. 

It’s the first time that either of you had so much as knocked on the glass wall of civility. A gentle tap of your knuckles against an easily forgotten barrier, but a knock nonetheless. 

“What?” Eddie squints, and he’s leaning in closer, and you suddenly feel suffocated again. His cologne is in your nose, his faded dimples are in your vision. You could count his eyelashes if you spared him a quick glance. 

But you don’t. You can’t bear to look at him, because the entire moment is becoming far too vulnerable. 

You clear your throat, “The entire group, except you, loves me. Which, I mean, I get. Not everyone is going to like me, and I’ve sort of been a bitch to you-” 

“You haven’t-” 

“-and honestly, I’ve really played into the fact that I annoy you so much this entire time. You hate me, I hate you-”

“I don’t-”

“-it’s fine.” 

Despite Eddie’s attempted interruptions, you manage to finish your speech, chest heaving by the end of it. He’s stunned, mouth opening and closing multiple times before he finally seemingly collects his thoughts. 

“Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I don’t really-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. Unlike when he’d interjected and you’d ignored him, he lets you speak. 

“Eddie, you said you’d celebrate my death,” you smile sheepishly at him, and you can feel that glass barrier shaking. Bringing up something awful, something terribly mean from mere hours ago isn’t a gentle knock on glass. It’s a slapping of a palm, a dare for cracks to start appearing. 

His entire expression falls, “I… That was stupid of me to say.” 

“It was,” you agree, because you’re not sure what else you could say, “It was, but I get it. The feeling’s mutual and all, right?” 

Eddie is quiet. You almost miss his voice, even with all the other tones of strangers bouncing around you. 

“Can I ask why you hate me, though?” you try to keep your tone as light as possible, to not let this moment get any worse. You try to keep your fists from pounding on the glass of civility, “We’ve never really talked about it before. I know you have your reasons – I’ve got mine.” 

His jaw clenches. You can physically see his thought process. He’s probably got a million reasons, and right now, he’s just thumbing through them, trying to find the one that won’t break your agreement of being kinder to each other. 

“You…” he starts, and the wheels are still turning in his head, eyes looking everywhere but you now, “I don’t know, you just seemed… s-selfish.” 

You almost don’t see it – the first crack in the glass, the first sign of civility crumbling. 

“Selfish?” you echo back, crestfallen, nearly wounded. You attempt to hide it, to not show him that his words affect you, because you’d asked for this. You’d asked the damn question, fueled by liquid confidence, and he was giving it to you. 

“Yeah, just… Full of yourself?” his voice jumps up an octave at the end of his sentence, as if he’s unsure, as if he’s asking you if that’s the right answer. The crack spreads, and begins to distort your vision of him, “I knew you had been sort of popular in high school, and you carried yourself like those popular kids I knew. And… and…” 

His eyes finally stop fleeting from yours. He meets your gaze, and you know you weren’t equipped with strong enough armor to hide the wounds he was inflicting. He could see the bruises as his hits landed, accidental or not. 

“I just thought you were everything I’d always hated. So I hated you.” 

The crack splinters, and hairline fractures split the image of Eddie into unrecognizable pieces. The boy you’d grown accustomed to thus far tonight, the boy you’d grown comfortable with, is gone in your eyes. 

“So,” your voice is tight, and you know you won’t be able to keep up with eye contact, not when it all starts to sting so ardently, “You judged a book by its cover, and decided I’m a royal, spoiled bitch. Isn’t that exactly what everyone in high school did to you?” 

“How did you-”

“Steve told me. He told me about your reputation, about being a freak, everything.” 

The splintering has spread to his side of the glass, clearly, as you say the word freak. 

“Is that why you hate me?” his tone hardens, gaze no longer sympathetic. Not that you see the change. “You decided I’m a freak, too?”

“I never said that-”

“No? Sorry, I thought we were just putting words into each other’s mouths.” 

The bar is busy, and you wonder if the bystanders can hear the wall of civility finally shattering. You have no idea if any of the shards hit Eddie, but you can feel them dig into your chest, your arms, your stomach. Shards that remind you of what could have been.

Shards that remind you of what was lost because Eddie Munson had decided he hated you long before he met you. 

“You’re the one who hated me before you even met me,” you scoff cruelly. 

“I never fucking said that-”

“You did, though,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “You said so yourself. Steve mentioned I was sort of popular in high school, and you just- you just decided to shove me into a box of what I would be. Some girl you didn’t even know.”

“Well, pardon me,” he snaps, “I didn’t exactly have the best experience with the popular kids, but you should know that since Stevie told you everything, right? Hell, he probably mentioned it over pillowtalk for your one night together, right?” 

You were an idiot. You had let yourself forget that Eddie is not normally kind, that Eddie is not normally so trustworthy as he’s been the last hour. You’d let your guard down, and now, the ramifications were staring you down right between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you angrily spit, moving to stand up, “I told you that in fucking confidence, because I thought… I thought…” 

“You thought..?” he presses as you turn to face him, shorter than him now that you weren’t both sitting in the stools, “What? That we were friends?” 

Yes. Because for a moment, I thought we were becoming friends, like a fucking idiot. 

His chest is heaving now. Just as yours had during your rant to him, your attempt to soothe over the fact that he hated you. You regret it. You regret ever agreeing on civility. 

“My mistake,” you choke out, “It won’t happen again.” 

You’ve caught him off guard. Maybe he had been prepared for you to deny it, maybe he had thought you’d laugh in his face at the idea of you considering him a friend.

But you hadn’t. You’d just confirmed to him that you did have that moment of weakness. You’d admitted that yes, for a vulnerable moment, you’d considered him a friend. A confidant over sweetened alcohol, cheap bar food, and trust. 

He’d had your trust, and he’d now lost it. 

You don’t wait around to see how he takes the revelation. You’re already storming out the front door of the bar, grateful you can still remember which direction his apartment is in. You don’t care if he’s following you – part of you hopes he isn’t. 

Until part of you is. Because as you step out into the night, a few shadows against the brickwall are brought to life by your appearance. 

“Hey there,��� one of the men call out, “What’s a girl like you doing all alone?” 

You don’t process that the man is talking to you at first, head down and anger flaming. 

“Hey, you!” There’s a sudden hand on your shoulder, making you jolt your head up, “Yeah, you. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?” 

His grin is sinister. Sickly sweet in faux honey, blonde hair swept back and breath reeking of rum. 

“M-Me?” you stutter, trying to take a careful step back, to get his hand off your shoulder. 

Your heart is no longer racing with fury. It’s pounding with fear. 

“Does it look like there’s any other pretty girls out here?” he slurs with a chuckle, glancing around to his friends.

You look around as well, and realize with sinking trepidation that there’s no one else out here, “No. But, uh, I’m good. I.. I’m not… interest-” 

“What’s your name, honey?” he leans in closer, and you can’t help but lean back. It makes his grip on you tighten. “I’m Jason. Are you all alone? Because, I’ll be honest, I’ve been striking out all night and would love to take a pretty thing like you home with me.” 

“I’m g-good,” you start again, “Please, uh, please let go-” you're shaking your head, trying harder to pull off his hand. 

“Oh, come on. It’d be fu-” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. One second, he’s pressing too close to you, holding you tight enough to leave bruises as you’re cringing and suddenly squirming to get out of his grasp, and the next – he’s gone. 

“Get the fuck off her.” 

You’re still too shocked to move, glancing down at your shoulder that’s now red and sore. But you know that voice. 

It’s the voice that had just told you he’d hated you before he ever met you. 

“Hey, man!” The intruder, Jason, protests as he’s shoved harshly against the wall. “What the fuck?” 

You finally look to see what’s happening properly. Eddie isn’t facing you, his broad back and shoulders appearing menacing in the shadows as Jason sinks further back against the wall. 

“She’s not going home with you.” 

His tone doesn’t waver, even as you catch the clench of his shaking fist. 

Jason catches sight of you, still standing where he left you, and the nauseating smirk returns, “I think we should let her decide, shouldn’t we?” 

You see Eddie move to raise his fist, and your body finally unfreezes. In an instant, you’re at his side, and your hand wraps around his bicep to prevent the punch he was surely pretending to send Jason’s way.

“Eddie,” you plead, tugging him backwards, anger momentarily forgotten. He doesn’t look at you, but he immediately takes the arm in your hold and wraps it around you in order to tuck you further behind his body, away from the wide, drunken stares of these men. You hate it, but it makes you feel safer, even as you grip the leather of his jacket’s sleeve tighter, “Eddie, please, let’s go.” 

“So she’s spoken for?” Jason pushes his luck, still slurring his words. 

Eddie’s fist clenches again. Without thinking, your hand not on his arm reaches down to grasp his fist. 

Your heart's still pounding. You’re still trembling, shaken up terribly – he can feel it. 

“Please,” you beg one last time. 

This time, he listens. The fist unravels, and in an instant, he has your hand locked in his, palm against sweaty palm. 

He’s not as rough as you expect him to be as he’s dragging you away from the scene. You can still hear the cat-calls, the taunts, of the drunken men, but it only spurs Eddie to walk faster. You struggle to keep up, his long legs carrying him more easily through the long strides, but you don’t protest, eager to get away from whatever the fuck just happens.

Neither of you say another word during the walk to his apartment. Your shoulder continues to ache, your hand stays tangled in his, and you can still feel the prick of civility’s shards in your chest, lodged dangerously close to your vines and closing buds of hopefulness. 

Civility. What a broken construct. 

–

BIRDIE: they are literally on a date right now. 

JOHNNY: I’m not doing this right now. 

DINGUS: god, i hate to admit it, but rob’s right. are they at a bar right now? am i seeing that right?

BIRDIE: yes!! i called it!! i fucking called it!!! god, only five hours in and they’re already on their first date.

ARGYLE ​​😎: love is in the air my dudes

JOHNNY: @ARGYLE ​​😎Don’t encourage them. 

NANCE: It is NOT their first date. Eddie wouldn’t take her to a bar for their first date.

BIRDIE: hold on, how would you know what eddie would do for their first date? 

NANCE: He’d probably take her somewhere nice, like whatever this town’s equivalent of Enzo’s. 

DINGUS: when the fuck has eddie talked about where he’d take her for the first date? 

BIRDIE: nancy what the fuck do you know?

JOHNNY: Lol

NANCE: Forget I said anything. 

BIRDIE: nancy, please explain yourself immediately.

DINGUS: nance? when? the? fuck? 

NANCE: He was drunk, he probably didn’t mean it.

BIRDIE: NANCY.

JOHNNY: Now you’ve done it. 

DINGUS: NANCY.

ARGYLE ​​😎: does this mean what i think it means?

BIRDIE: NANCE. 

JOHNNY: Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? 

NANCE has left the groupchat.

[pollylynn]

Title: Prototype WC: 1100 Episode: Murder Most Fowl (3 x 08)

She thinks of him as dealing exclusively in heroes and villains. Drama queen doesn’t begin to cover it, and from her vantage point it seems that humans in between don’t exist for him. She’s not sure how he maintains it—this investment in absolute polar opposites—given that they spend their days and nights sifting through the details of the lives of people who are mostly fair-to-middling when it comes right down to it.

Most of the time, she supposes it’s just a writer thing. It’s his job, in some sense, to be that drama queen, to blow up the banal misdeeds and petty motivations of the everyday person until they’re fit to keep the pages turning until the very last.

Today, though, she has to consider the possibility that it’s a dad thing. The villain of the day is, of course, The Boyfriend.

“You can’t tell me a rat isn’t a red flag,” he huffs as he tries to keep up with her. It’s a struggle, given how much breath he’s expending on his scenarios where Ashley falls somewhere in between the Gilgo Beach Killer and The Manson Family—Yes, Beckett, all of them—in terms of murderous depravity. “A rat with a ‘special diet’?”

She’s not listening. She is definitely not listening, and still it’s almost a relief when he moves on to The Falcon Killer. This second villain springs forth, fully formed, from the writer part of his brain, so it looks like his hero–villain complex is a both/and situation. The Falcon Killer is not one bit less annoying than Ashley the Rat King, but being imaginary he at least has the virtue of having no financials someone might try to demand that she run, and there’s a lower likelihood that she’ll find herself on the receiving end of pointed questions about how to file an order of protection on behalf of someone else.

By late morning, things have swung around to the hero end of the spectrum. It’s all working class hero Lightbulb Len all the time. Arthur Sansone, she supposes, is the exception that proves the rule. He’s neither hero nor villain.

“He’s Sancho Panza to Lightbulb Len’s Don Quixote!” The grimy tiles of the subway reverberate as he waxes rhapsodic, and she wonders what city she’ll pull up stakes and move to, because she can clearly never show her face on New York public transit ever again. “Samwise to his Frodo!”

She’s thinking very seriously about being Michael to his Fredo even before he sets to work on special guest villains, Mario Rivera and Byron H. Singer, to say nothing of the shadowy figures behind the conspiracies aligned against Len Levitt.

“It’s a blood pact.” She, like everyone else in the bullpen, hears his stage whisper to a nodding Ryan. “It’s so much bigger than bulbs—it’s bulbs and birds.” He slaps a palm down on whatever evidence it is he’s spread out on the desk. “Lightbulb Len never stood a chance.”

She’s got a pinching headache right between her eyes the next morning when he rousts her practically at dawn to spend another day seeking justice for his latest Campbellian hero. The coffee he hands her is hardly enough to counteract the way he’s pin-balling between singing their vic’s praises and contemplating how he can get Alexis out of the country before Ashley returns and fully commits himself to a Count of Monte Christo–level revenge scheme. He’s crossing the writer–dad streams and it’s too early for any of it.

It all falls away, though, when the case breaks in a terrible, unexpected direction. Len Levitt’s last act on earth was to turn his camera on a man abducting a child, and damned if that isn’t the most heroic thing any of them has heard in a long while.

He’s all work from that point on. There’s no talk of heroes or villains. Lightbulb Len, it’s sad to say, is all but forgotten as lead after lead on the abduction turns up absolutely nothing.

Heroes and villains are forgotten entirely. All his dadly, all his writerly energy is focused on every single thing he can remember about Alexis’s life just four or five short years ago—everything that might give them a lead.

Even when they have their hands on Dean Donegal and he’s goes after the man hard, there’s no villain across that interrogation room table. It’s obvious, even as they take turns grilling him about Indianapolis—about everything—that he sees a mirror for his own desperate fear. It’s clear he sees a father facing the worst pain of his life.

Before long, she feels like the villain—she sees herself through his writer’s eyes when someone has to be the rational, not-a-parent in the room when the Captain decides that they’ll back Dean as he goes to meet the kidnappers’ demands. She imagines how he’d cast her on the page right now—implacable, ice water in her veins. She has all too easy a time imagining Nikki Heat’s villainous turn, but what can she do when no one else will say what needs saying?

She feels like something worse than a villain in the subway for the second time in as many days. Adrenaline is running the show when she kicks in the door and gets her shot off. Her momentum carries her on a beeline for Tyler Donegal, but somehow he gets there first. Somehow his body is between hers and the boy’s, and he’s crouched down, two careful feet away, talking in a low, absolutely calm voice.

She doesn’t hear what he says at first. She’s too busy re-running the last minute-and-a-half, complete with what was very nearly yet another traumatizing event for Tyler Donegal with her in a starring role. When she catches back up with real time, he’s standing up. He’s reaching a hand down patiently to help the boy up from the filthy floor in his own time.

“Your dad told us you were smart,” he says. “But save yourself smart? That’s hero smart.”

She can only just make out Tyler’s wide eyes in the dim light, but she feels the tension slowly trickling out of him. She sees his pale skin moving through the shadows to grip Castle’s hand as he staggers to his feet. He places a careful palm on the boy’s shoulder and flashes her a grin that’s exhausted and triumphant all at once.

“Wouldn’t you say that’s hero smart, Detective?”

“I would.” She returns the grin. “I definitely would.”

A/N: This has no morphousness in its flabby, flabby end, but I am so very tired.

images via homeofthenutty

[warriorcatdesigner]

Warrior Cat’s List

So here’s the whole list! Don’t be afraid to ask me to do one! I gotta start somewhere! :D

A Acorn Fur Acornpaw Acorntail Adderfang Adderkit Adderpaw (WC) Ajax Alder Alderheart Algernon Amberclaw Amberleaf Ambermoon Ant Antpelt (SC) Antpelt (WC) Apple Blossom Appledawn Appledusk Applefrost Applefur (NP) Applefur (TF) Arc Archeye Ashfoot Ashfur (SC) Ashfur (TC) Ashheart Aspenfall Aspentail B Badgerfang Barkface Barley Bee Beech Beech Tail Beechfur (RC) Beechfur (TC) Beechpaw (SC) Beechstar Beenose Beetail Beetle Beetlenose Beetlewhisker Bella (KP) Bellaleaf Benny Berryheart Berrynose Bess Betsy Billystorm Birch Birchbark Birchface Birchfall Birchstar (RC) Birchstar (SC) Birchstar (WC) Bird That Rides the Wind Birdflight Birdsong Birdwing Birdy Black Ear Blackbee Blackclaw Blackstar Blaze Blizzardstar Blizzardwing Bloomheart Blossom Blossomfall Blossomheart Blossomkit (SC) Blue Whisker Bluebellkit Bluestar Bob Bone Boots Boulder Boulderfur Bouncefire Bracken Brackenfoot Brackenfur Brackenheart Brackenpelt Brackenwing Bramble Brambleberry Bramblestar Branch (DotC) Branch (HJ) Brandy Braveheart Breezepaw (RC) Breezepelt Briarlight Brick Bright Stream Brightflower Brightheart Brightsky Brightspirit Brightwhisker Brindleclaw Brindleface Brindlepaw (WC) Brindlestar Bristlekit Broken Feather Broken Shadow Brokenstar Brook Where Small Fish Swim Brownpaw Bubbling Stream Bumble Bumblestripe Burr Buzzardkit Buzzardstar C Cedarheart Cedarpelt (RC) Cedarstar Chasing Clouds Cherryfall Cherryfeather Cherrypaw (SHA) Cherrytail Chirp Chiveclaw Cinderfur Cinderheart Cinderpelt Cinders Cinnamon Clawface Cloud With Star in Belly Cloud With Storm in Belly Cloudberry (RC) Cloudberry (TC) Cloudmist Cloudpelt Cloudrunner Cloudspots Cloudstar Cloudtail Cloudy Cloudy Sun Clover (ES) Cloverfoot Cloversplash Clovertail Coal (FQ) Coal (NP) Cobweb (Cat) Cody Conekit Copperpaw Cora Coriander Cow (MFV) Creekfeather Cricket (AFD) Crookedstar Crouchfoot Crow Muzzle Crowclaw Crowfeather Crowfrost Crowfur Crowtail Crystal Curlfeather Curlypaw Cypresspaw D Daisy (Cat) Daisyheart Daisytail Daisytoe Dancing Leaf Dandelionkit Dangling Leaf Dapplenose Dapplepelt Dappletail Dappletail's Kit Dark Shadow on Water Dark Whiskers Darkflower Darkfoot Darkstar (CotC) Darkstar (MV) Darkstar (SC) Darkstripe Darktail Darrel Dart Dash Dawn Mist Dawn River Dawnbright Dawncloud Dawnfeather Dawnflower Dawnpelt Dawnstar Dawnstripe Deadfoot Deerdapple Deerfoot Deerleap Deerpaw (TC) Dew Dew Nose Dew Petal Dewkit (SC) Dewnose Dewpaw (HJ) Dewspots Dewstar Dewy Leaf Diesel Dodge Doespring Doestar Domino Dotty Dove's Wing Dovestar (RC) Dovestar (WC) Dovewing Dragonfly Driftkit Drizzle Duckpaw Duke Dusk Nose Duskfur Duskpaw Duskwater Dust Muzzle Dustpelt Duststar E Eagle Feather Eaglekit (TC) Eaglekit (WC) Eaglestorm Ebonyclaw Echomist Echosnout Echosong Eeltail (CotC) Eeltail (MV) Egg Ember Emberfoot Emberkit (CJ) Emberkit (DotC) Emberstar F Falcon Swoop Fall Fallen Leaves Fallensnow Falling Dusk Falling Feather Falling Rain Fallowfern Fallowkit Fallowpaw Fallowsong Fallowstar Fallowtail Fawnstep Feather Feather Ear Featherpelt Featherstar Featherstorm Feathertail Featherwhisker Featherwing Fennelstar Fern Leaf Ferncloud Fernleaf Fernpaw (TAQ) Fernpelt Fernshade Fernsong Ferretclaw Ferris Fidgetpaw Fierce Finchflight Finchkit Finchstar Finpaw Fircone Firefern Firestar Firestar's Twolegs Fish Leap Flailfoot Flame Flamenose Flamepelt Flametail Flashnose Fleck Fleetfoot Flick Flight of Startled Heron Flintfang Flora Floss Flower (DTC) Flower (Lo) Flower (Ro) Flower Foot Flower Stream Flowerpaw (SC) Flowerpaw (TC) Flowerstar Floyd Flutter Fluttering Bird Flykit Flystar Fog Foggy Fox (DTC) Foxclaw Foxheart Foxleap Foxnose Foxwhisker Foxy Frecklewish (SC) Frecklewish (TC) Fringepaw Frisk Fritz (P3) Fritz (RP) Frog (Ro) Frogleap Frogtail Frondkit Frost Frostclaw Frostfur Frosty Furled Bracken Fury Furzepelt Fuzz Fuzzball Fuzzypelt G Goldenflower Goldenstar Gooseberry Goosefeather Gorseclaw (TC) Gorseclaw (WC) Gorsefoot Gorsepaw Gorsestar Gorsetail (NP) Gorsetail (P3) Grassheart Grasskit (CP) Grasspelt Gravelpaw Gray Sky Before Dawn Gray Wing Graymist Graypool Graypool's Kit Graystripe Graywing (RC) Greeneyes Greenflower Growler Gullkit H Hailstar Hal Half Moon Halftail Hareflight (FQ) Hareflight (TR) Harepounce Harestar Harley Harrybrook Harveymoon Hatchkit Hattie Havenpelt Hawk Swoop Hawkfoot Hawkfrost Hawkfur Hawkheart Hawksnow Hawkstar Hawkwing Hayberry Hazel Burrow Hazelstar Hazeltail Hazelwing Heatherstar Heathertail Heavystep Henry Heronwing (RC) Heronwing (TC) Hickorynose Hollow Tree Hollowbelly Hollowflight Hollowkit Holly Hollyflower Hollykit (NP) Hollyleaf Hollypelt Hollystar Hollytuft Honey Pelt Honeyfern Honeyfur Honeyleaf Honeytail Hoot Hootwhisker Hopekit Houndleap Houndstar Husker Hussar Hutch I Icecloud Icewhisker Icewing Icicle Ivypool Ivystar Ivytail (RC) Ivytail (SC) J Jackdaw's Cry Jacques Jagged Lightning Jagged Peak Jagged Rock Where Heron Sits Jaggedtooth Jake Jasper Jay (Cat) Jay Frost Jay's Wing Jayclaw Jayfeather Jean Jessamy Jessy Jester Jet Jigsaw Jingo Jumper Jumpfoot Juniper Branch Juniperclaw Juniperkit K Ken Kestrelflight Kestrelwing Kinkfur Kinktail L Lakeheart Lakeshine Lakestorm Lapping Wave Larchkit (MV) Larchkit (NP) Lark That Sings at Dawn Larksong (BP) Larksong (SS) Larksplash Larkwing (BS) Larkwing (FQ) Leaf (DTC) Leafpool Leafshade Leafshine Leafstar Leafstar's Mother Leafstorm Leaftail Leopardfoot Leopardstar Lichen Lichenfur Lightkit Lightning Stripe Lightning Tail Lightningpaw Lightningpelt Lily Lilyflower Lilyfur Lilyheart Lilystar Lilystem Lilywhisker Lion's Roar Lionblaze Lioneye Lionheart Lionstar Little Mew Littlebird Littlecloud Littlekit (YS) Littlestep Lizardfang Lizardstripe Lizardtail Logfur Loki Longtail Loudbelly Lowbranch Lowbranch's Mother Lulu M Macgyver Madric Mae Maggottail Magpie (Cat) Mallowfur Mallownose Mallowtail Mapleshade Maplestar Maplewhisker Marigold (Cat) Marigoldkit Marmalade Marshcloud Marshkit Marshpaw Marshscar Max (KP) Max (Ro) Meadowpelt Meadowslip Melting Ice Merry Micah Midgepelt Midnight (Character) Milkfur (MV) Milkfur (RC) Milkfur (WC) Milkweed Millie Minnowkit (CotC) Minnowkit (CP) Minnowtail Minor Characters Mintfur (RC) Mintfur (SC) Mintkit (YS) Mintpaw (CJ) Minty (KP) Minty (Ro) Misha Mist (Lo) Mist Where Sunlight Shimmers Mistcloud Mistfeather Mistkit (TC) Mistlekit (CJ) Mistlekit (TPB) Mistmouse Mistpelt Misty Misty Water Mistystar Mittens Mitzi (KP) Mitzi (Lo) Mole (Cat) Molepaw (NP) Molepelt Molewhisker (RC) Molewhisker (TC) Moon Shadow Moonflower Morning Fire Morning Star Morning Whisker Morningcloud Morningflower Morningkit Morningmist Morningstar Moss (KP) Moss Tail Moss that Grows by River Mossfire Mossheart (SC) Mossheart (TC) Mosskit (TC) Mossleaf Mosspaw (SC) Mosspelt Mossyfoot Mothflight Mothpelt Mothwhisker Mothwing Mottlepaw Mouse (MFV) Mouse Ear Mousefang Mousefur Mousewhisker Mousewing Mouthclaw Mud Paws Mudclaw (SC) Mudclaw (WC) Mudfur Mudpuddle Mudthorn Mumblefoot Myler N Nectarpaw Needletail Nettle (DTC) Nettle (VS) Nettlebreeze Nettleclaw Nettlepad Nettlepaw (RC) Nettlesplash Nettlespot Newtspeck Night (ES) Night (HJ) Night of No Stars Nightcloud Nightfur Nightheart Nightkit (BP) Nightmask Nightpaw (RC) Nightsky Nightstar Nightwhisper Nightwing Nutmeg (KP) Nutmeg (Ro) Nutmeg (TR) Nutwhisker O O'Hara Oakfur Oakheart Oakleaf Oakstar Oakstep Oatclaw Oatpaw (RC) Oatspeckle Oatwhisker (TC) Oatwhisker (WC) Oddfoot Olivenose One Eye One-eye Onestar Onion Oscar Otterheart Ottersplash Owl Feather Owl Song Owlclaw Owlfur Owlnose Owlstar (CotC) Owlstar (SotC) Owlwhisker P Pack Leader Pad Palebird Palefoot Palepaw Parsleyseed Parsnip Pasha Patch (KP) Patch (RF) Patch Pelt Patchfoot Patchkit (MV) Patchpelt Peanut Pearnose Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain Pebblefoot Pebblefur Pebbleheart Pebbleshine Pepper Perchkit Perchpaw (MV) Perchwing Percy Petal (DTC) Petal and Fox's Mother Petaldust Petalfall Petalfur Petalkit (LC) Petalkit (MV) Petalnose Pigeonkit (SC) Pigeonpaw Pikepaw (BotC) Pikepaw (MO) Piketooth Pine (TS) Pine Needle Pine That Clings to Rock Pineclaw Pinefur Pinenose Pinestar Pink Eyes Pip Piper Pipsqueak Pixie Plumclaw Plumkit (TC) Plumwillow Pod Podlight Polly Poolcloud Poppycloud Poppydawn Poppyfrost Pounce Pouncekit Pouncetail (RC) Pouncetail (SC) Prickleface Pricklekit (RC) Pricklekit (WC) Pricklenose Primrosepaw Princess Puddleshine Pumpkin Purdy Q Quailfeather Quailheart Quailkit Quick Water Quickpaw Quiet Rain Quince R Rabbitfur Rabbitkit (WC) Rabbitleap (SC) Rabbitleap (TC) Rabbitstar Rabbittail Rage Raggedstar Rain (DoTC) Rain (TAQ) Rain That Passes Quickly Rain That Rattles on Stones Raincloud Raindrop Rainfall Rainflower Rainfur (SC) Rainfur (TC) Rainleap Rainsplash Rainstorm Rainswept Flower Rainwhisker Rascal Ratscar Raven (TAQ) Raven Pelt Ravenpaw Ravenwing Red (SD) Red Claw Redclaw Redscar Redstar Redtail Redthistle Redwillow Reed Tail Reedfeather Reedpaw (HJ) Reedshine (CotC) Reedshine (MV) Reedstar Reedtail Reedwhisker Reena (KP) Reena (Ro) Riga Rileypool Rippleclaw Ripplestar Rippletail (RC) Rippletail (SC) Rising Moon Riverstar Roach Robinstar Robinwing (RC) Robinwing (SC) Robinwing (TC) Robinwing (WC) Rock (Healer) Rock Beneath Still Water Rockfall Rockshade Rocky Rooktail Rose (FQ) Rose (TS) Rosepetal Rosetail Rowanberry Rowanclaw Rowanfur Rowanstar (CotC) Rubblepaw Ruby Running Fox Running Horse Runningbrook Runningnose Runningstorm Runningwind Rushpaw (BoTC) Rushtail (RC) Rushtail (WC) Rushtooth Russetfur Ryestalk Ryewhisker S Sagenose Sagewhisker Samwise Sandgorse Sandstorm Sandynose Sasha Scarlet Scorchfur Scorchwind Scourge Scowl Scrap Scree (Ro) Scree Beneath Winter Sky Screech of Angry Owl Sedgecreek Sedgestar Sedgewhisker Seedpaw Seedpelt (FQ) Seedpelt (MV) Seville Shade Pelt Shaded Moss Shadepelt (TPB) Shadepelt (VS) Shadestar Shadowkit Shadowstar Shanty Sharp Hail Sharpclaw (SC) Sharptooth Shattered Ice Sheeptail Sheer Path Beside Waterfall Shell Claw Shellheart Shellkit Shimmerpelt (BS) Shimmerpelt (CP) Shine Shiningheart Shivering Rose Shnuky Shorty Shredtail (BS) Shredtail (DF) Shrewclaw Shrewfoot Shrewpaw (TC) Shrewtooth Shy Fawn Shyheart Silt Silver Frost Silver Stripe Silverflame Silverhawk Silvermask Silverpaw (BotC) Silverpaw (TPB) Silverstream Skipper Skyheart Skystar Skywatcher Slant Slash Slate Slatefur Slatepelt Sleek Fur Sleekwhisker Slightfoot Sloefur (RC) Sloefur (SC) Smallear Smallstar Smoke Smokefoot Smokepaw (NP) Smokepaw (SotC) Smokepaw (VS) Smoketalon Smoky Smudge Snail Shell Snailpaw Snake (DotC) Snakepaw Snaketail (FQ) Snaketail (P3) Snaketooth Snapper Sneezecloud Sniff Snipe Snipkit Snookthorn Snow Falling on Stones Snow Hare Snowbird Snowbush Snowdrop Snowflake Snowfur Snowkit (TPB) Snowstar Snowtuft Snowy Socks Softwing Sol Sol's Father Sol's Twoleg Songbird Soot Sootfur Sorrelpaw (WC) Sorrelstripe Sorreltail Sparkpelt Sparrow (Cat) Sparrow Fur Sparrowfeather (DF) Sparrowfeather (RC) Sparrowpelt (SC) Sparrowtail Speckle Specklepaw Speckletail Spider Paw Spiderfoot Spiderleg Spiderpelt Spiderstar Spikefur Spiketail Spirekit Spiresight Splash (KP) Splash When Fish Leaps Splashfoot Splashheart Splashkit Splashnose Splashpaw Splinter Spotted Fur Spottedleaf Spottedpaw (SC) Spottedpelt Squirrelflight Squirrelfur Squirrelwhisker Stagleap (GC) Stagleap (TR) Star Flower Star That Shines On Water Starlingfeather Starlingwing Stemkit Stick (Cat) Stoatfur (BS) Stoatfur (CJ) Stone (DotC) Stone (HJ) Stone Song (DTC) Stone Song (P3) Stoneclaw Stonefur Stonepelt Stonestar Stonestream Stonetooth (BP) Stonewing Storm (Ro) Storm Clouds at Dusk Storm Pelt Stormcloud Stormfur Stormheart Stormtail Streak Strikestone Stripes Strong Pounce Stumpytail Sun Shadow Sunfish Sunkit (SC) Sunnykit Sunnytail Sunpelt (LC) Sunpelt (SC) Sunspots Sunstar Sunstrike Susan Suzy Swallow Swallowflight Swallowtail (RC) Swallowtail (WC) Sweetbriar Sweetpaw Swift (DTC) Swift Minnow Swiftbreeze Swiftflight Swiftfoot Swiftpaw (TPB) Swiftstar (LC) Swiftstar (WC) Swoop of Chestnut Hawk T Tadpole Tallpoppy Tallstar Talon of Swooping Eagle Talonpaw Talonstar Tangle Tangleburr Tanglefur Tanglepaw (RC) Tanglewhisker Tansy (Cat) Tansypaw Tawnyfur Tawnypelt Tawnyspots Teller of the Pointed Stones (NP) Teller of the Pointed Stones (OTS) Tess The Captain The Old She-cat The Stranger Thistle (Ro) Thistle (TC) Thistleclaw Thistleheart Thistlepaw (CotC) Thistlepaw (NP) Thistletail Thorn Thornclaw Thorntooth Thrushpelt (TC) Thrushpelt (WC) Thrushtalon Thrushwing Thunderstar Tigerstar (AVoS) Tigerstar (TPB) Timberfur Tiny Branch Tinycloud Toad (HJ) Toadfoot Toadskip Toadstep Tom (ES) Tornear Tree Troutclaw Troutstar Troutstream Tumblekit Tuna Turtle Tail Twig Twigbranch Twigtail Twist Twisted Branch Tyr V Velvet Victor Vinestar Vinetail Violet (KP) Violet Dawn Violetshine Vixenkit Voleclaw Volepaw (SC) Volestar Voletooth W Wasptail Waspwhisker Wavepaw Weaselfur Weaselkit Weaselwhisker Webfoot Webkit Webster Wee Hen Weedwhisker Wetfoot Whiskernose Whiskers Whispering Breeze White Tail Whiteberry Whiteclaw Whitefang Whitestar Whitestorm Whitetail (SC) Whitetail (TUG) Whitetail (WC) Whitethroat Whitewater Whitewhisker Whitewing Whorlpaw Wildfur Wildkit Willie Willow Tail Willowbreeze Willowclaw Willowkit (CP) Willownose Willowpelt Willowshine Willowstar Windflight Windstar Wing Shadow Over Water Wishkit Wolfheart W cont. Wolfstep Woody Woollytail Wrenflight Y Yarrowleaf Yellowfang Yellowstar Yew Tail Z Zelda Ziggy

[tddrawwarriors]

Name list - S

List of characters by name! If any new characters get introduced, this list will be updated. 

Sagenose

Sagewhisker

Samwise

Sandgorse

Sandstorm

Sandynose

Sasha

Scarlet

Scorchfur

Scorchwind

Scourge

Scree (Ro)

Scree Beneath Winter Sky

Screech of Angry Owl

Sedgecreek

Sedgestar

Sedgewhisker

Seedpaw

Seedpelt (FQ)

Seedpelt (MV)

Seville

Shade Pelt

Shaded Moss

Shadepelt (TPB)

Shadepelt (VS)

Shadestar

Shadowstar

Shanty

Sharp Hail

Sharpclaw (SC)

Sharptooth

Shattered Ice

Sheeptail

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall

Shell Claw

Shellheart

Shellkit

Shimmerpelt (BS)

Shimmerpelt (CP)

Shine

Shinecloud

Shiningheart

Shivering Rose

Shnuky

Shorty

Shredtail (BS)

Shredtail (DF)

Shrewclaw

Shrewfoot

Shrewpaw (TC)

Shrewtooth

Shy Fawn

Shyheart

Silt

Silver Frost

Silver Stripe

Silverflame

Silverhawk

Silvermask

Silverpaw (BotC)

Silverpaw (TPB)

Silverstream

Skipper

Skunkpaw

Skyheart

Skystar

Skywatcher

Slant

Slash

Slate

Slatefur

Slatepelt

Sleek Fur

Sleekwhisker

Slightfoot

Sloefur (RC)

Sloefur (SC)

Smallear

Smallstar

Smoke

Smokefoot

Smokepaw (NP)

Smokepaw (SotC)

Smokepaw (VS)

Smoketalon

Smoky

Smudge

Snail Shell

Snailpaw

Snake (DotC)

Snakepaw

Snaketail (FQ)

Snaketail (P3)

Snaketooth

Snapper

Sneezecloud

Sniff

Snipe

Snipkit

Snookthorn

Snow Falling on Stones

Snow Hare

Snowbird

Snowbush

Snowdrop

Snowflake

Snowfur

Snowkit (TPB)

Snowstar

Snowtuft

Snowy

Socks

Softwing

Sol

Sol's Father

Sol's Twoleg

Songbird

Soot

Sootfur

Sorrelpaw (WC)

Sorrelstripe

Sorreltail

Sparkpelt

Sparrow (Cat)

Sparrow Fur

Sparrowfeather (DF)

Sparrowfeather (RC)

Sparrowpelt (SC)

Sparrowtail

Speckle

Specklepaw

Speckletail

Spider Paw

Spiderfoot

Spiderleg

Spiderpelt

Spiderstar

Spikefur

Spiketail

Splash (KP)

Splash When Fish Leaps

Splashfoot

Splashheart

Splashkit

Splashnose

Splashpaw

Splinter

Spotted Fur

Spottedleaf

Spottedpaw (SC)

Spottedpelt

Squirrelflight

Squirrelfur

Squirrelwhisker

Stagleap (GC)

Stagleap (TR)

Star Flower

Star That Shines On Water

Starlingfeather

Starlingwing

Stemkit

Stick (Cat)

Stoatfur (BS)

Stoatfur (CJ)

Stone (DotC)

Stone (HJ)

Stone Song (DTC)

Stone Song (P3)

Stoneclaw

Stonefur

Stonepelt

Stonestar

Stonestream

Stonetooth (BP)

Stonewing

Storm (Ro)

Storm Clouds at Dusk

Storm Pelt

Stormcloud

Stormfur

Stormheart

Stormtail

Strikestone

Stripes

Strong Pounce

Stumpytail

Sun Shadow

Sunfish

Sunnytail

Sunpelt (LC)

Sunpelt (SC)

Sunspots

Sunstar

Sunstrike

Susan

Suzy

Swallow

Swallowflight

Swallowtail (RC)

Swallowtail (WC)

Sweetbriar

Sweetpaw

Swift (DTC)

Swift Minnow

Swiftbreeze

Swiftflight

Swiftfoot

Swiftpaw (TPB)

Swiftstar (LC)

Swiftstar (WC)

Swoop of Chestnut Hawk

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Let Me Hold You - Frodo Baggins X GN Reader

Title: Let Me Hold You

Frodo Baggins X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Gandalf (Mentioned), Merry (Mentioned), Pippin (Mentioned), Aragorn (Mentioned), Legolas (Mentioned), Sam (Mentioned), and Elrond (Mentioned)

Requested by: @almost-gabrielle!

Drabble

WC: 500

Warnings: Mention of Mordor, the ring, Frodo's injured hand mentioned, awkwardness, anxiety, crying, mini angst, and fluff

Frodo was bathed in a soft yellow light, his body floating on a cloud of relaxation and calm. Slowly opening his eyes, he took his time surveying the surrounding scenery. And in his mind, he was asking; 'Where am I?' Slowly, once more, Frodo took the time to sit up, his eyes glancing around the room. Glancing down, Frodo paused, seeing you. You sat on the ground, your head resting on the bed, arms used as a pillow. You slept soundly, eyes closed, eyelashes resting gracefully upon the apples of your cheeks; a beautiful sight to behold.

Frodo was so relieved that you were still alive, having joined him, Sam, Merry, and Pippin on the journey to destroy the one ring. Tentatively, Frodo reached out with his injured hand, brushing your hair away from your face; you hadn't even looked harmed, with no cuts or bruises. Suddenly, your eyes fluttered open, realization flowed over you and you quickly looked up, your eyes meeting Frodo's blue ones. You scrambled to sit up, your joints burning as you took a seat on the bed, gently taking Frodo's hand into both of yours. 

"Oh, Frodo," You sighed, tears building up in the corners of your eyes, "You're awake,"

Frodo just stared at you, mostly in shock, "Y/N?" He spoke up before his eyes landed on Gandalf in front of him, clutching his new staff. The old wizard gave him a fond smile, "Gandalf?" His surprised expression slowly turned into one of pure happiness; a huge smile on his face. Gandalf nodded, letting out a chuckle and Frodo matched his laugh, so many emotions surging throughout him. The door to the room then opened, revealing Merry and Pippin, both alright. Bright smiles appeared on their faces as they came bounding over. You took a few steps back, though happy to see Frodo alright, you were a bit crestfallen that you didn't have more time alone with him. Frodo brought Merry into a hug before Gimli appeared, stretching his arms out to his side with a smile. "Gimli!" The Hobbit greeted, as the Dwarf clapped his hands with joy. 

Next at the door came Legolas, his piercing blue gaze landing on the alive and well Frodo, and lastly Aragorn arrived; a huge smile on his own face. But, who could forget a certain Hobbit, who carried Frodo down that mountain that was slowly being devoured by lava and fire; Samwise Gamgee had pushed past the threshold. 

But soon, the small crowd dispersed, and you were finally alone again with Frodo. It was awkward, slightly, as you took your seat on the bed. You let out a shaky breath, trying to stay calm; you opened your eyes when you felt his bandaged hand cover yours, making you look up at him and meet his gaze once more. 

"I should be the one comforting you," You muttered out a small laugh, sniffling.

Frodo just gave you a smile, "Please," He spoke softly, "Let me hold you."