#the hobbit sleepover

[sotwk]

Everyone is invited! You do not have to be a Follower or Mutual. However, Anon Asks will not be accepted for this event. 

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Pick one of the described games below that strikes your fancy.

Drop an Ask in my Ask Box with your request.

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I will only accept Asks received during the event period of July 11-15. I will give myself until July 31st to respond to everything; past that date, I absolve myself of the obligation. (Use your own timezone to determine the start/end dates.)

Read on for the fun!!!

Pick one of the Special Guest Blorbos below and I will write a 300-word “drabble” for them with a summertime-themed prompt. 

This is the only time I will write or accept requests for these Blorbos, so this is truly “limited edition”!

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Updated (7/12): ANONS ARE ACCEPTED for this game ONLY.

Share with me 5-10 bullet points about your Original Character (any fandom), and I will match them up with one of my own OCs, or a Tolkien canon character. Please include a face claim if you have one. 

Fill in the blanks: “What would <name of Thranduilion Prince> do if <describe hypothetical situation>?” Send me the question and I will answer with some headcanons.

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[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 2, Unspeakable, Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) No language in this one; I am SHOOK! Brief mentions of sex, Tolkien nerds, the first appearance of the green-eyed monster, repressing of feelings.

Word Count: 603

Previously On...: Girls' Night with your friends led to some... interesting discussion about your friendship with Bucky.

A/N: Was this scene absolutely necessary? No. Could I resist including a moment to showcase the adorableness of Bucky and Pocket's friendship? Absolutely not.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp

About an hour later, you were getting ready to watch the first Hobbit movie. You'd changed into your pajamas and were getting your movie snacks in order. Bucky was sprawled atop your mattress; the two of you hardly slept apart anymore, and you alternated whose room you stayed in. Tonight was your turn to host the Nightmare Sleepover, as you'd come to call it.

"How was Girl's Night," Bucky asked as he watched you put on your lotion.

"Interesting," you replied, rubbing the lilac-scented balm into your skin. You knew how much he loved the smell of it, so you always made sure to have it on hand. "They think we're sleeping together, so they wanted all the salacious details."

"Doll," he chuckled, rolling onto his side to get a better view of you, "we are sleeping together."

You shot him an arched glance. "You know what I mean."

Bucky fiddled with his vibranium thumb and looked up at you through his lashes. "What did you tell them?"

You plopped yourself next to him on the bed, grinning. "Well, obviously, I told them you're hung like a horse and have the stamina of a steam engine, but that you always cry after you come and you insist on calling me 'mommy.' It’s fairly off-putting."

"You are an absolute menace!" He lunged for you and began tickling you without mercy. You fought him off as valiantly as you could, but you were no match for a super soldier and you both knew it.

"Yield!" you cried, breathless, a few moments later. "I yield!" He reluctantly let you go so you could catch your breath. "I told them the truth-- we're just friends," you said once you could talk again, "but they all think you're very sexy and one of them-- and I will not say which one-- said she would let you do, and I quote, ‘unspeakable things to her body.’"

Bucky's face lit up like a Christmas tree; you knew how much he relished any kind of praise. It was like physical touch-- he had been deprived of it for so long, he was starved for it. "Was it Natasha? It was Nat, wasn't it?"

The readiness at which he jumped to that conclusion left a gross feeling in the pit of your stomach. All you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile and shrug your shoulders, playing coy. You definitely did not want to examine why his comment made you feel so icky.

"We should get this movie going," you told him, instead. "Otherwise we'll be up all night." Bucky fluffed up your pillows against your headboard while you fiddled with the remote to queue up the film. Because this was Tony's place, you didn't have a regular television. Instead, your room was equipped with a projector embedded in the ceiling, and the entire wall opposite your bed was the screen. It was as good as a movie theater.

"Are you excited?" you asked as you leaned back against the pillows next to Bucky.

"Are you kidding me?" he said, scooting closer to you until your shoulders were touching and passing you an open pack of Twizzlers. "Watching an adaptation of my favorite book with my best girl? I've been looking forward to this since the moment you told me there were movies."

A warmth flooding your insides like liquid sunshine. You poked his mouth with a Twizzler until he opened up and ripped a bite off of it. Grinning, you took a bite and rested your head on his shoulder, feeling completely content in this moment with your best friend.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[cooliestghouliest]

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

—

chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

[scary-grace]

hey, if it isn't too much to ask, in the next few days im gonna go through some tough changes, could you share some fluffy hc/little facts about the characters in kairos? (love how my comfort fic is also the one that fucks ne up the most but oh well wouldnt have it any other way lmaokdnak)

I can give you some fluffy headcanons! Here are just a few:

Kili has a very hobbit-like view of birthdays, even before he meets Bilbo. He likes to give people presents rather than receive them, because the best present for him is everyone being happy at his party.

Bard's radio was a gift from his mom. He's been using the same one for twenty years, and he's able to repair it whenever it breaks, however it breaks.

Tauriel makes friends easily following the move to New Hampshire, but when it comes down to it, she would rather be with her family than anywhere else. She has grand plans of hosting a sleepover at the estate.

Thorin owned exactly one record before he met Bilbo, and it was Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits, which was released in 1972. His favorite songs are The Sound of Silence and Mrs. Robinson, and his family has developed almost Pavlovian rage responses to hearing either one.

When it comes to clothing and decor, Thranduil secretly enjoys bright or rich colors. He inherited most of his furniture, but if he had a choice, he would go with whatever caught his eye. His preference for color also appears in his artwork. Left to his own devices, he'd probably get really into Impressionist-style works.

Thank you for the ask! I can do a few more characters as well if anyone would like. I hope your tough times go as easily as possible and you feel a little better soon. <3

[harrywavycurly]

I could use some comfort and was seeing if I could get something with life with steddie? Thank you Sarah 💓

Hiii babes!! I hope these conversations bring you some comfort!!💖

-find all things Life with Steve and Eddie here✨

“What the fuck is all this for Harrington?” “She called us because she’s stressed and…baths are..relaxing or whatever.” “So this is all for…a bath? This looks like salt Steve…did you just grab this from your kitchen this morning?” “They are bath salts you idiot…what did you bring for her?” “Chocolate.” “Chocolate? That’s it?” “Yeah? I’m also going to offer one of my world famous-” “foot massages? So candy and a foot rub?” “Yeah she loves candy and who doesn’t like their feet rubbed?” “Let’s just get over there and help her feel better…stop eating the fucking candy you asshole.” “Relax Stevie…I packed extra for us.” “Smart thinking…”

“What do you need from us?” “Yeah do you need? Maybe some cuddles?” “Want Eddie to read to you in those stupid voices he does?” “Stupid? You said you loved my hobbit voices…” “focus Munson…now what’s wrong?” “I’m just…having a bad day.” “Well scoot over princess…a bad day calls for some trashy television and some cuddles.” “Can I get some popcorn to go with these cuddles and trashy tv?” “Of course…you heard her Steve go make us some popcorn.” “You’re so annoying…but fine…I’m not gonna be stuck being the little spoon again am I?” “If you hurry I’ll let you be the big spoon…”

“So…what color goes best with my hair? I’m thinking green.” “Green? Why would green go good with your hair Munson?” “I’m not asking you Steven…I’m asking her…I trust her opinion.” “I think green is…a choice…not a bad one but also not…a good one.” “What does that even mean?” “Don’t be rude Eddie this is her beauty shop just…let her pick your nail color.” “Right…sorry so uhm…what color for my hands?” “Will you let me do black with silver glitter?” “Okay…but then what color for my toes?” “They have to match…duh.” “Don’t duh me Harrington sometimes they don’t have to match.” “They always have to match Munson don’t be dumb.” “How about green for the toes since you clearly like it.” “Okay…with or without glitter?” “Always with glitter.” “Finally…you and I agree on something Stevie!” “Stop calling me that…”

“Did she call you too?” “No I’m just here at two in the morning because I wanted to see how her house looked in the moonlight.” “A simple no would’ve been fine Eddie…you’re always so dramatic.” “What did she tell you on the phone?” “That she couldn’t sleep and wanted to have a wine and magazine party?” “She’s been watching Bridesmaids too much…she told me she couldn’t sleep and wanted lemonade….I think she’s high off her sleep meds.” “High?…off her sleep meds?” “Yeah Steve it makes you all fucked up if you take it don’t actually fall asleep…she must’ve sleep called us or something.” “So..are we going in or….not?” “Yes but just be prepared for some wacky shit to come out of her mouth okay? Just ignore it and we’ll put her to bed.” “Okay…” “Eddie! Steve! Just in time for the pool party!” “Yeah yeah..pool party…Eddie she doesn’t have a fucking pool…” “Just go with it…soooo sweetheart wanna show me the outfit you picked for the party?” “Yes yes come on let me show you it’s in my room.” “Oh wow…this bed is so…soft come feel how soft this bed is Munson.” “Soft? Let me feel!” “Yeah go ahead…soft isn’t it? Makes you wanna just…climb in it huh?…isn’t it nice Eddie?” “Yeah it’s very soft Steve…isn’t it princess?” “It’s…very…soft…soft.” “She’s repeating things…is that normal?” “Yeah look she’s-” “I’m gonna miss the party…” “that’s okay we can have it another day.” “Another day…yeah…another day.” “Sweet dreams…let’s go Steve she’s gonna sleep for a while.” “Okay…maybe we should sleep over just in case she sleep walks and tries to swim in the bathtub or something?” “If you wanna have a sleepover Stevie then just ask.” “Why am I friends with you?”

[poguesofthebau]

dating steve would include... (part two)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader part one

-sneaking him into your house for sleepovers

-him complaining whenever you dedicated time to schoolwork instead of him (even if you allowed him to sit with you while you worked)

-both of you being slightly territorial but completely unwilling to admit it, which was always entertaining for your friends to watch in action

-occasionally giving him a hard time over all the girls he dated before you just to see him get all worked up and defensive

-letting robin take the passenger seat when he drives you both to school, until he randomly starts picking you up first and doubling back by his house for robin afterward ("what? you're too nice to tell robin to get in the back, so i had to take matters into my own hands")

-dustin referring to you and steve as every famous duo under the sun •bonnie and clyde •romeo and juliet •holmes and watson

-understanding all the kids' d&d terminology, which only ever surprises steve ("babe, how do you know this stuff? am i the only normal one here?")

-randomly making a statement supporting queer rights during a conversation with steve and robin which eventually led to her coming out to you

-punching billy in the face in the school parking lot one time because he was being racist giving lucas a hard time, which steve was actually pretty mad at you for (“y/n, he could’ve seriously hurt you! do you not understand that?”)

-taking mid-day naps together after you got out of school/he got out of work

-steve being the best listener when you just needed someone to rant to •mumbling a supportive mhmmm whenever you made a specific point during the rant •you rambling for 5 minutes straight, then sighing and saying, “ya know?”, to which steve nods and says “i hear ya, babe” •when your anger fades a little and you ask him, “am i just being crazy?” his immediate response is something like ‘absolutely not! those dickheads are lucky i don't send el to fling them off a rooftop or something'

-dustin barreling into your room while preemptively covering his eyes and yelling threats every time he realizes steve is over and you have the door closed

-him offering to drive you whenever you mentioned having to go somewhere to him

-constantly having to explain lord of the rings/the hobbit references to him (“babe, please just read the books”)

-when you ask what's gonna happen when you go away for college, he looks genuinely dumbfounded before shrugging and saying, "i thought i'd just go wherever you go"

-a double date with nancy and jonathan that was both horribly awkward and incredibly fun

-spearheading all the kids' crazy plans, which drives steve insane

-steve looking at you and saying, “these are the people that are gonna babysit our kids one day” every time your friends did anything abnormal/ridiculous •while dustin, mike, lucas, and will have a full-blown argument over their d&d campaign •after robin trips and face-plants on the walk from her front door to steve's car •when el is using her powers to adjust the tv antenna so no one has to get up from their seats •after nancy convinced everyone to go back into the upside down/face vecna despite the terrible odds

-your mom adoring him, which kind of annoyed dustin but also made his heart feel whole

-his fingers hooked in your belt loops in a crowd to keep from getting separated

-him playing with your fingers while you talked to dustin about something that didn’t interest him

-listening to him sing in the shower when he didn’t realize how loud he was being

-giving him tons of nicknames but only reusing the ones that made him blush •lover •stevie (which he forbade anyone else from calling him) •batman (originally because of his iconic nail bat, but then a double entendre of sorts after his encounter with vecna's bats)

-him knowing your favorite song off the top of his head even before vecna came around

[jrooc]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday✨

Thanks for the tags @mybrainismelted @deathclassic and @francesrose3 these questions are so fun @energievie!

Name: Jess

Age: A Nosho and a half

Location: Oh Canada, Our Flag Has a Leaf On It

And now, think about your childhood and tell me:

Did you have a nickname and is it still used? People called me variations of my last name. Or they sometimes called me Tuesday.

What did you want to be when you'd grow up? A writer 🥰

Your favourite cartoon: Xmen or Loony Toons *Meep meep*

Your favourite TV show: Weirdly The Price is Right. Or Sabrina the Teenage Witch maybe?

Your favourite book: I read so much even then so this is a hard question. HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The Hobbit. Lamb by Christopher Moore

Your favourite toy: I had a stuffed bear. I don't remember his name but he's in my storage closed right now.

Your favourite thing to eat: Much like Kat's Mom, mine couldn't cook and was always trying to make stuff healthy. So I loved other people's fun snacks. Fruit by the Foot was contraband in my house. Or McDonald's nuggets cause they were also banned.

Your favourite school subject: English

How did you spend your summers? I was a summer sleepover camp kid. It was nothing like Carl's experience. We'd canoe and swim in the lake. I learnt to sail. There was art and kissing behind the cabins. It was fun.

Did you listen to music? If yes, did you have a favourite band/artist? Yes. I've always loved music. I listened to Alannis Morrisette (my first album), Metallica, System of a Down, Lincoln Park, Eminem, Mariah Carey, Savage Garden and Spice Girls. My taste is still just as eclectic.

And lastly, tell me something you did as a kid that your parents still don't know about: I'd say I was going to sleep over at a friends and go to a raging bush party in the middle of the B.C. forest where'd we'd throw furniture in a huge bonfire and I'd sleep in my car. Still surprises me no one died.

Well that was a disturbing fun walk down memory lane! Tagging you beauties if you haven't done it and if not just hi hi hi! @mmmichyyy @darlingian @michellemisfit @ms-moonlight-inn @samantitheos @sam-loves-seb @redwiccanrobin @bawlbrayker @mickeysgaymom @krysmiss @jessieoneday @heymrspatel @crossmydna @suzy-queued @stocious @creepkinginc @lady-ekaterina @juliakayyy @look-i-love-u @sgtmickeyslaughter @ian-galagher @missdaytonameth Also hi you - you reading this - if you see these and want to play just dm-me or comment! I remember what it was like when everyone was playing and I didn't know how to be invited so I'm inviting you!

[the---hermit]

New books in my Tolkien collection lovingly provided by my best friend who was decluttering her bookshelves, a lovely card she got me in one of her travels, and new books I got (I cannot wait to continue the poppy war series!!)

24|08|2023

The last few days have been intense to say the least. I am trying to spend as much time as I can with my friend before she leaves again. We had a sleepover, I met two of her friends who were visiting and overall we spent a lot of quality time together. We played board games, cooked together, went on walks, stayed up talking until 3 am. The other day we also went to a bookshop and after we spontaneously decided to get piercings together. I finally got my septum done, and here's were things started to go downhill. Now, I was very much aware my parents were not going to be happy about it, but I was not expecting to unleash the apocalypse itself. Things are somewhat cooler at the moment, also thanks to my beloved brother without whom I don't know what I'd do. He didn't hesitate a second to take my side, and he supported me in a very emotional argument with my parents. It's not that they're happy now, and I am not over the fact that a big chunk of joy I was feeling over this thing has been taken away from me, but at least things seem to be calmer. They will get used to it one way or another, because I am not up for compromise on things about my own body that make me happy. I might wait a bit longer than I originally planned to get my next tattoo, but that's fine since I didn't have everything planned out yet. I won't lie and say I wasn't upset with all of this, I still am, but I am thankful I had thr support of my brother and of my friends, that really filled my heart with love and gratitude.

Chill hobbit summer things of the last few days:

Slowly got back into reading first thing in the morning

Sleepover and late night talks

Meeting new people without feeling nervous about it

Taking my meds when needed (self care at its core)

Continuing my Irish review on duolingo and reaching a 400 day streak

Finishing The Witcher Blood Origin (I didn't mind the story, it was pretty entertaining, but there were a couple of things I didn't love love about it)

Doing something spontaneous (and paying rhe consequences I guess, but fuck it)

Saw not one but two hedgehogs in my garden at night (which means the little lads might be making a home in there and I would be so happy about it)

📖: currently rereading the Heartstopper series by Alice Oseman

[wormtime123]

AAAAAAAAAAAA DRAMATURGY EPILOGUEEE

I love the lengthy wrap up of so many loose ends, the slow mend of things torn and that utter contentment to be found with people just existing right there. This is going to be my go-to comfort fic for found family to re-read over and over and over and over

Now I wanna pick your brain on all the bits; worldwalker shapeshifting Gem? Its so coool I love it. When did you decide to give her and others (Scar, Cub?) powers? What did Cub actually do at the end of Grumbot there? What was your favorite part of the epilogue to write? And which part was the most emotional for you? (tough question, I know I can't choose between Pearl & Gem's or Pearl & Grian's conversations)

WHEW dear god thank you for presenting me a pass to go insane on a silver platter. i’ll be putting my answers under a read more so i don’t explode people’s feeds with nonsense

most of the magic decisions made are based ~mostly in what i know about canon, i just ended up filling in some blanks and playing around with what’s already there! i’m endlessly fascinated by gem’s dimension-hopping (empires isn’t addressed in dramaturgy, but i operate on everything she said about her powers in e2) and i think the idea that she can open portals at will and freely travel between worlds/universes in a way that other players can’t is amazing. then the shapeshifting just made sense to me in how she changes her appearance around to fit into whatever character she wants to take on in each world.

cub and scar lore i’m a lot less familiar with since i only know of certain clips about their vex deal, but i kind of treat it similarly to gem in that i assume they can shift their forms around (ie. how often scar changes to fit a character like gem does, cub going from old man to s8 e-boy skin) and have a peculiar knowledge around portals (ie. the big dig, scar using his “wizard portals” to travel between seasons.) however i think gem has a different kind of expertise working with portals with how often she dimension-hops, so those two were kind of just doing unethical science at the rift to see what stuck lol.

the rift on its own is its whole thing in my Fanon Brain, but i have a strong image of it as a living, breathing entity that sucks things in and spits them back out in other spaces indiscriminately. dramaturgy scar describes it as hungry and i think that’s about as apt as it gets. stuck perpetually wanting to consume yet unable to hold anything in. then one of my biggest plot problems to solve was making the story line up with grian’s lore, aka grumbot (prime) getting tossed in the canon timeline ominously hinting at the other grian’s crimes, so i asked myself how dramaturgy hermits could have weaponized the rift and that’s where i landed! i admittedly don’t have a specific answer to how cub would have aggravated the rift enough to make it go hogwild in chapter 10, but i personally just imagined him figuring it out at one point or another by throwing shit in until something worked

dear god this is already getting long but epilogue!!! my answer for favorite scene to write is a little anticlimactic but i love writing all the evo flashbacks. if you couldn’t tell i am completely evo enamored. i love the strange, off-putting, nostalgic innocence of “something unpreventable and life-altering is about to happen and they Don’t Know.” i love them working together to get to the stronghold and entering the end portal thinking it’s going to be another task of teamwork as always and then just *silence* on the other end. amazing incredible tragic love it

(also on that note i loved writing the scene atop the mansion. just one last hermit acting entirely too normal while subjecting pearl to cursed knowledge before we go)

and lastly for most emotional to write i’d definitely say the scene at the hobbit hole! i’ve had that one as well as the sleepover at impulse’s in the back of my mind for so long i’m just glad i got it out. getting there was like the end of an era for me. everything with grian and pearl finally being back together but still not quite on the same page. i think pearl seeing grian so taken aback in the face of the tangible proof of his actions and mumbo’s feelings was the straw that broke the camel’s back, because at this point in the story pearl’s finally willing to see herself in mumbo’s situation. she’s finally realizing how badly she needs this specific closure but grian’s too busy going ???my actions… have consequences? i can’t just run off into the night with no negative impact on the people around me?

(which is of course also a matter of a warped sense of self-image and understanding emotions, but grian will go on murder sprees in the 3rd life time loop box before exercising an ounce of self-reflection, more at 11.) and only after seeing pearl shaking like a sad wet chihuahua clutching this random notebook of his like it’s the sacred texts does he really start to grasp how genuinely bad it’s been for her. like that would have been obvious to anyone who’s normal but whatever. i love studying skyblings like bugs

ANYWAYS. i hope you enjoyed this thought dump and thank you again for the ask i owe you my life

[sotwk]

It's Day 2 of the SotWK Summer Campfire Sleepover!

Hello Campers! Reminder to please get in your requests by July 15!

Check out this Sleepover Game!

If you like any of these characters (oh and my writing too, lol), here is your chance to make a ficlet/drabble request! I don't normally write for these guys, even though I love them, so this is limited time only.

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Ser Harwin Strong

Lord Cregan Stark

Prince Aemond Targaryen

High King Gil-galad

Halbrand

Elendil

The fics will be summer-themed, but you can also request specific details as long as they're simple enough for a drabble. :)

Please reblog to spread the word! <3

[frodo-with-glasses]

Discord Highlights: Headcanon Marathon

Meg suggested I write this all as a bullet point list instead of copying the chat this time; which is probably a good idea considering the workload here LOL

On the night of 5/4/23, we here at the Fig Tree Discord Server got together and headcanoned:

Primrose Gamgee is a redhead like her mother

Prim was born deaf

Prim and her brother Bilbo are thick as thieves

Signing doesn't come naturally to Bilbo, but he tries his hardest, and Prim understands him anyway

Goldilocks may or may not be named the way she is because Sam wanted to name a daughter Galadriel but Rosie wanted the hobbit version so they compromised

For the first like four years of her life Goldi thought she was named after a flower like her big sisters and was very confused why her parents laughed when she asked to plant goldilocks in the garden

Frodo later comforts her like "it's okay they can't plant Frodo either" and that got her giggling like crazy

She decides dandelions are goldilockses and is delighted when they show up in the yard

Sam is not

Actually Sam is just fine with this because hobbit lawns encourage natural biodiversity and also dandelions are good in salads

The Gamgee family is a big loud singing household

The Sound of Music, but it's Bag End

Fatty Bolger has three daughters and no other kids

One is Athelas, nicknamed Addie

Addie got sick when she was young and lost most of her hearing

Addie is best friends with Prim Gamgee

Addie and Prim hang out all the time and, in addition to being fluent in SSL (Shire Sign Language), they also constantly make up their own nonsense signs so that no one else can understand them

Another Bolger daughter is Azalea, nicknamed Azzie

Azzie and Addie are very close in age

(Not sure if we reached a consensus on who's older, but I feel like Azzie is older)

Azzie is a natural storyteller; she gets it from her dad

Since she tells her stories with both her voice and her hands it's somehow more spellbinding

She discovered puppet shows at the age of 3 and a half and was instantly hooked

When she's older, she makes her own puppets

Puts on puppet shows for her family

They don't have any talking, just Action, and Addie loves the action best

She used to put on shows for Baby Heather before she was ambulatory and got quite offended once Heather was old enough to crawl away

The youngest Bolger daughter is Heather

Heather is a good deal younger than her sisters and is spoiled rotten but she's the sweetest thing

Heather is constantly hungry and always eating, and yet she stays Very Short

She's perfectly healthy and round, just Smol

Mental image: Four girl hobbits (Prim, Addie, Azzie, and Heather) in a blanket tent, signing rapidly to each other, and no words can be heard but an unending stream of giggles

They're having a sleepover and Fatty has to keep coming in to tell them to be quiet. Heather and Azzie promise they'll hush, but Prim and Addie don't realize how loud they're being and it just sets the other two off all over again.

Azzie hears the story of Beren and Luthien from Prim's dad (very important he is, he's the mayor, you know!), and she sews her own puppets and puts on a show of it

The Beren puppet has a hand that's held on by a button

Once (don't ask me how) Aragorn and Arwen get to watch Azzie's Beren and Luthien show

They have nothing but positive reviews

(Even if Baby Heather tried to eat the wolf puppet halfway through)

Arwen is delighted and wants to help Azzie make some beautiful blinged out elvish puppets with gems sewn into them

Azzie never uses them but they are kept in a glass box and TreasuredTM

Fatty likes to wrestle with his friends' sons, since he has no boys of his own

Addie, however, is a tomboy and WILL go at it with her father if given the chance

Addie and Frodo Gamgee got in a fight once. For fun. She's four years younger than Frodo, and bby Frodo had to suffer a lecture from his no-nonsense dad, but Addie got off easy and Frodo still holds a bit of a grudge lol

He still thinks she's cool tho

(To which I suggested: "ship??" and got at least one eyes emoji, so there's that)

Prim is neither the best friend who's always talking Addie down, nor the best friend who's constantly hyping her up, but the best friend who hangs back like "I won't stop you but you should NOT"

Secretly Prim likes tending wounds

She has a makeshift vet office in the backyard

Bby Bilbo brings her his dragon (it's a lizard named Smaug)

(I suggested the lizard actually be a skink but the jury's still out on that one)

The Gamgees do not have pets, as a rule, but many animals and pet bugs are either smuggled or wander in

Rosie like "where's my best pot??" too bad now it's the home of Pippin's grasshopper

The Tooks, on the other hand, have lots of pets and very absurd ones too

Real conversation between Goldilocks and Rosie: "But Ma, why can't I play with the snake?" "Because it's poisonous. If it bites you, you will die." "But Faramir has a pet snake." "Faramir has a what now"

When they're older, Faramir and Goldie end up being that super weird couple with exotic pets and no kids for a very long time

"Ma when we get married we'll have snakes" "No Goldi" "Ma Faramir said so" "SAM call off the marriage" "They're seven, love—" "Call it off"

Mental Image: Estella is a fantastic baker. She's in the kitchen at Crickhollow or Brandyhall with a mess of little girls—her nieces and daughter(s)—all around her, talking and signing instructions, and no one is listening to her, and there's flour EVERYWHERE, and she's getting exasperated but simultaneously loving it

Elanor, being the oldest of a TON of younger cousins/relatives, is sort of the de facto leader on play dates

Get all the Gamgees, Brandybucks, Tooks, and Bolgers together, and Elanor can be seen holding a stick over her head like a general's baton and leading this veritable army of hobbit children down to the Party Field

Elanor was pretty uninterested in romance when she was young—too busy doing other things to get fussed about boys, and her standards were too high for most of them anyway—until one day she met Fastred and she came home and said, "Ma, I've found him", and whaddya know she had

(Still undecided whether they met because Elanor was in Greenholm for some reason or Fastred came to Hobbiton on business with his father, but either way Elanor and Fastred didn't meet until towards the end of their tweens)

When Sam tells stories he adjusts them for the ears of kids

Merry does not

Not even a little bit

(Unless Estella is nearby in which case he's gonna get an earful)

"Hey, kids, wanna hear about the time I killed a demon??"

Estella from the other room: "MERRY NO"

He's a bad judge of what's too scary for kids

He tells the story of their adventure with no filter at all

Sam tries to teach the kids lessons through the stories and that love conquers all

Pippin adds his own little bits and pieces every time he tells it until his version and the OG are nothing alike

At one point Legolas had wings (when Gandalf asked him to bring down the sun on Caradhras) and Gimli ate rocks

Gimli has actually eaten rocks

It was on a dare and he doesn't want anyone to know

Pippin had no idea; it was just a lucky guess

One time the kids asked Gimli if he actually ate rocks and he's just nervously sweating and wondering how the heck they know that

Pippin is shocked to find out he was actually right about this when he was just talking out his butt

(Legolas has also eaten rocks on a dare but we all knew that already)

The oldest kids get together sometimes—Elanor, Frodo, Boromir, and Faramir—to talk about their parents and try to understand what they went through

Faramir Took talks about how sometimes his father refuses that he get near any sort of fire

He'll be playing in his home by firelight while Pippin watches from the doorway, muttering to himself I'd never, I'd never, so fiercely that little Faramir looks up in innocent surprise and asks what he's talking about

And Pippin has to leave the room before he starts to cry

(Deep down, Pippin is sure Denethor loved his son too)

(And the Palantir haunts him to this day)

Boromir Brandybuck confesses that he's heard his dad cry out in his sleep some nights and he's scared to ask his parents about it

Boromir: "My father is a Knight of Rohan and Master of Buckland, a brave Traveller. He's never afraid." Elanor: "...He might be." Boromir: "No."

Merry's laughing in the face of fear mentality has an unintended effect on Boromir in particular. He wants to be his father; he wants to be fearless; Dad makes it look so easy!

Estella overhears once and has to explain the difference between fear and cowardice

The first time young Faramir goes to Gondor with this family, and poor little Goldi doesn't go, Rosie is struck with the sense of waiting her baby must be feeling

"He's my best friend ma" "I know, love" "It's far"

Rosie thinks, well, at least Goldi knows where he's going and when he's coming home again

When Theodoc's AccidentTM happened—the one that broke his feet and crippled him—the doctors were all telling Merry that Theodoc will live. All the pony did when it fell on him was crush his legs.

But Merry thinks they're lying. No, he is SURE that they are lying, because that's just how Theoden died. Crushed beneath his horse. They were both destined to die this way.

He cursed his son the moment he decided to honor the king who was like a father to him.

There he is, having a panic attack right there while the doctor is in with Theo, like "I killed him, I killed him, I killed my son—"

(And Pippin is the one who comforts him; Pippin, the one who has nightmares sometimes about burning with his Faramir)

The Travellers all talk about Gandalf differently

Sam waxes eloquent about his fireworks

That's all he talks about

Pippin laughingly and affectionately exaggerates how cranky Gandalf always was

"Once I rode on a horse with him" "Ooooooo"

"Didn't he call you a fool of a Took?" "NO that is what he called Merry but he is always caught up in his wizardry that he sometimes forgets that Merry unfortunately isn't a Took"

(Cue the distant, insulted Brandybuck noises)

Merry is the only reliable source of information, but only if you catch him in the right mood; otherwise he'll only mention the smoke rings Gandalf would blow

Merry has a killer Gandalf impression. Chomping on the pipe and everything

Bby Bilbo gets all his Gandalf info from Merry and Sam is Very Offended

(However, Sam owns Bilbo Sr.'s book, so that earns Bilbo Jr.'s trust back)

Frodo has had it up to HERE with fireworks, so he flees with his little brother to listen to Uncle Merry

They ask about Gandalf, and Uncle Merry goes "ah yes, brilliant fellow, a real grump. gorgeous fireworks—" and Frodo about tears his own hair out

(Merry is doing this on purpose. He knows how Sam gets about the darn fireworks.)

Frodo: "We have one last option. We have to go to Uncle Pippin."

Bilbo: "Do you trust everything he says? He once said that Mr. Legolas had wings."

Bilbo: "Mr. Legolas doesn't have wings."

Frodo: "How do you know that?"

Bilbo: "I don't want to talk about it"

(Legolas loves being called Mr. Legolas, but only by little hobbits)

And then there's the one about the lullaby Sam uses for his kids, but I'm saving that for a future fanfic ;-)

CURRENT ROLL CALL

Brandybuck Kids: Theodoc (Theo/Trotter), Periadoc (Perry), Eomer (Merry?), Juniper, Madoc, Boromir (Rory), Eowyn (Wyn)

Took Kids: Faramir (Ferry), Simbelmyne (Minnie), Beregond (Berry), Sable

Bolger Kids: Athelas (Addie), Azalea (Azzie), Heather

General credits to @invisiblewashboard, @writingvalkyrie, @grondds-and-roses, and the illustrious Meg, you absolute madlasses X'-D

[willorm-the-seer]

𓄃 intro post + some art examples𓄃

((also i apologize ahead of time if i spam reblog/like your posts, i forget that’s a thing that happens and never think to check who posted what😭 i try not to! but i do apologize, my memory sucks ass lol))

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ go ahead and call me willen/will, whichever you choose❤️ just a silly little guy sitting in the dark corner of my little cave, pondering and scheming ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

⚠︎ I AM

NONHUMAN

and do NOT identify as a human/nor a person. please do not refer to me as such. you will be blocked immediately if it is done on purpose ⚠︎

𓃠 𝕮✮𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖎✮𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖘✮𝖗, 𓃠

𓃠 • MALE & he/its ONLY. UNLESS you are a very close friend, or specified differently. sometimes i will use she/her. never a woman, nor a female though • 𓃠

𓃠 • trans and gender-fluid, mainly only firmly identifying as a man or male, unless SPECIFICALLY stated otherwise. pronouns will always be in bio • 𓃠

𓃠 • URUK/ORC nonhuman/endel & zoanthrope. i firmly believe i had a past life, AND have a future life as an uruk. this “humanly” existence is merely an intermission of sorts. i am still an uruk at heart, mind and soul. i am not human • 𓃠

𓃠 • on that note, i am also a practiced spirit medium, and have a deep interest in necromancy and witchcraft • 𓃠

𓃠 • i also have a psychological equine theriotype due to imprinting, as i have worked with and owned horses for going on 10+ years now. will occasionally post about my horse because she is pretty much my daughter, and the only reason i get up in the mornings • 𓃠

𓃠 • 18+ legal adult. MINORS DNI pls • 𓃠

𓃠 • have art commissions OPEN currently, will have examples of my work down below. pls feel free to shoot me a dm if at all interested • 𓃠

⋆♱✮♱⋆ 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • big fan of anything lotr related, including any of tolkiens works, peter jackson’s movies, trop/rop, shadow of war/shadow of mordor, the hobbit, etc. • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • LOVE love love the transformers franchise, especially the IDW mtmte/lost light comics🫶 • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • love horses or anything equine related! big on western riding/western disciplines and liberty work. avid horse racing hater, and will always have a soft spot in my heart for ottbs and the struggles they go through • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • LOVE the legend of zelda! any of the games, but i specifically ADORE twilight princess and it is probably by far my favorite🥰 ocarina of time and majoras mask are close seconds! with skyward sword being the third, and windwaker the fourth❤️ love these games to death • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • same goes for minecraft❤️❤️❤️ minecraft is my absolute everything, i am a SLUT for this game omg. waking up at 7am at the sleepover, grabbing some cereal, and going and playing minecraft together until 12pm? laughing and listening to the CAT music disc over and over again? yeah, minecraft is the best❤️‍🩹 • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • TERRARIA TOO! most of my OCs are based in/off/from terraria! such a staple • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • rdr/rdr2/rdo🫶🫶🫶 • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • love the winter, and the fall. snow is my absolute favorite thing❤️ i am a seregost uruk and love the snow and the mountains more than anything in this universe • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ • LOVE horror/scary shit, ESPECIALLY anything body horror related🫀 gore is my absolute favorite🫀 love the darkness and late nights as well🫶 anything spooky • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⋆♱✮♱⋆ •❤️ scenecore & the gothic aesthetic • ⋆♱✮♱⋆

⚠︎𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘/𝖉𝖓𝖎, ⚠︎

⚠︎• random, but anything fish, ocean, lake, water related. i have an intense phobia of anything aquatic related and will go into a full panic attack😭 i have absolutely no idea why •⚠︎

⚠︎• anyone fucking weird and/or disgusting, and disgusting in the sense of being a PEDO, ZOO, RACIST, BIGOT, etc. blocked and reported IMMEDIATELY. get your nasty ass OUTTA here •⚠︎

⚠︎• anyone who hates/dislikes/attacks the therian/otherkin/alterhuman/nonhuman communities. there will be absolutely none of that hatred here •⚠︎

⚠︎• anyone who IS a therian/otherkin and HATES/ATTACKS/doesn’t support: endels / clinical zoanthropes / clinical lycanthropes / delusional alterhumans. you will be blocked immediately, because that is fucking ridiculous and disgusting behavior of you❤️ •⚠︎

⚠︎• this is an endogenic and tulpamancer safe space. anyone who is ANTI-endogenic will be blocked immediately. get your nasty ass outta here •⚠︎

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖆, ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 • i am mated to my lovely partner, who is also an uruk🫶 we have been married for over a year now❤️ • ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 • i am a christopagan, and respect all religions/beliefs • ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 • i collect blankets in my spare time, i have way too many, pls feel free to tag me in anything blanket related i will go FERAL • ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 • planning on posting some of my writing/stories • ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ty for reading if you’ve made it this far! appreciate it❤️ have a good day/night lovelies ((+ said art examples(all mine)/my nonhuman appearance))

[templedragon]

Willow: The Gales

- Sorsha monologue neatly setting up that Kit is going to be Elora's protector, but we're all distracted thinking the red head is Elora. This is more comment of Sorsha's fear of magic due to her own mother, in not raising Elora as equal to her children. She didn't have to go Cinderella on her, though. And only The Mothers know the political positioning of raising a Bone Reaver denied her heritage, when Bone Reavers were the main army with Sorsha in the film.

- Jade must be so tired of throwing fights for Kit, because the Queen said so.

- Everyone notes Jade in a dress, but where did it come from? Is there a stash in the castle for emergencies? Is there a soldier version of what Ballantine is wearing? And tied in to this, was Kit going to wear a suit before her mother picked out her outfit?

- Ruby Cruz captures systemic abuse here. Kit has enjoyed her life, ignoring the reality of forced marriage and likely rape to maintain a royal bloodline. And the homophobia. She thinks she can endure it as long as Jade is with her.

- Jade and Airk trust Kit's throwing skills, staying still while the rest of the room shifts. It went from everyone thinking Kit and Jade would be having an affair to lover's quarrel very quickly.

- Does Kit want to be a knight because of freedom? Or is some of it tied up with loving Jade? That do i want to be this person or be with this person?

- Is it child marriage if Sorcha is telling her children to go to bed?

- I was late to watching Willow, so assumed the sapphic romance would come later. The first kiss is fifteen minutes into episode one, and we already have a lot to unpack.

- White man gets kidnapped for a change. I would say it's his own fault for being bad at combat, leaning into that idea that nothing is expected of him.

- Women of all ages with swords.

- Everyone in their pyjamas apart from Kit who is in her I'm So Out attire. Shout out to the costume department for having Jade wear a hair scarf that only Kit gets to see.

- Jade blocking Graydon coming close to Kit, just announcing to the court she is going to be the main love interest now she knows it's requited. Kit's not in the right headspace though, kidnapped twin and all.

- I feel like Sorsha has just given up with the Questies she's putting together.

- Welcome to Wales advert. Croeso y Cymru.

- Tanthamore are still doing sleepovers. Jade's face and careful hand extraction when she realises Boorman is watching.

- Kit coming back to the group to comfort Jade when she talks about losing her family, despite her issues with Elora. Very tactile, initiating all(?) the physical intimacy with Jade.

- Bone Reavers, and Jade bravely waiting until Kit and Elora are riding before moving herself.

- Maybe Airk was the only one who liked Kase as he's never mentioned as a person ever again. Headcanon Airk sleeps around as Kase does, as a father figure.

- Nelwyn become Hobbits.

- Kit excited to learn from Willow about when her mother wasnt boring.

- Kit's worst week ever. Arranged marriage, twin kidnapped, best friend leaving for knighthood, prisoner for a companion, Airk's sleeping around father figure baby sitting, mother reveals your grandma was a magic using tyrant, and now the prodigal child your father left you for is your twin's girlfriend of the week.

[dragonrider9905]

The hangout ask game reminds me of sleepover questions, so let's imagine we're at one!

Make you choose: We're staying up all night with the plan to watch as much Star Wars stuff as we can (before we inevitably fall asleep lol) but what do we start with first? The movies, or the shows~?

@frostycatblr-fandom-files 🩷

Hi Frosty!!!! @frostycatblr-fandom-files

Hehehehe I LOVE that!!!! totally sleepover vibes!!!! Let's do this!!!! Let the party begin!!!!! (Man now I really wish we were really on one XD that'd be so fun!!!)

Hooooooo boi. First, yes, I'd love to stay up all freakn night with you watching Star Wars stuff!!!!!!! Uuuuugggghhh this is such a hard choice because naturally, I am such a chronological junkie. I HAVE to see things in order XD like every time we watch The Hobbit and Lord of the RIngs I'm litterally like, if we watch one, we watch all and we have to start at the beginnnig. Even though we re watch the beginning one so many times and we never actually make it through the series I insist on starting with the first one...then again, there are so many choices in the SW media that I can see myself being like naaahhhh what we in the mood for friend? Let's what that? Because I love the shows so much. Inevitably, we'd probably watch Mando or TBB because they are both just so good and make me happy :D

Thanks for the amazing ask!!!!!

Hang Out With Me

[aew-kun-age-regression]

-Miscellaneous Masterslist-

(part 2, cause I can't add anymore links to part 1)

Moodboards

Caregiver!Indiana Jones StimBoard (Indiana Jones)

Caregiver!Commander Mills StimBoard (65)

Caregiver!Elmont (Jack The Giant Slayer)

Caregiver!Ahkmenrak (Night at the museum)

Caregiver!Jedediah & Octavius (Night at the museum)

Caregiver!Holly (Red Dwarf)

Caregiver!Larry Daley StimBoard (Night at the museum)

Caregiver!Klaus Mikaelson (The Vampire Diaries)

Caregiver!Elijah Mikaelson (The Vampire Diaries)

Cozy Christmas Moodboard

Twin Stars StimBoard (Sanrio)

Caregiver!Noob Saibot (Mortal Kombat)

Valentine's Day Moodboard

Personal Regression Moodboard

Regressor!Nimona (Nimona)

Caregiver!Larry Daley (Night At The Museum)

Regressor!Bilbo Baggins (The Hobbit)

Caregiver!Nicky Harper (Nicky, Ricky, Dicky and Dawn)

Ballet Moodboard

Nostalgia Moodboard

Mermaid StimBoard

Applejack Moodboard (My Little Pony)

Soft Moodboard

Twilight Sparkle Moodboard (My Little Pony)

Rainbow Dash Moodboard (My Little Pony)

2000's Punk Aesthetic Moodboard

Personal Roadtrip Moodboard

Stuffie Moodboard (Roxie - Individuals Stuffie)

Stuffie Moodboard (Yellow Bunny - Individuals Stuffie)

Fluttershy Moodboard (My Little Pony)

Rarity Moodboard (My Little Pony)

Pinkie Pie Moodboard (My Little Pony)

Rainy Day Moodboard

Self Indulgent Nostalgia Moodboard

Famous Five Moodboard

Stuffie StimBoard (Tuppy - Individuals Stuffie)

Self Indulgent Nostalgia Moodboard

Dork Diaries Moodboard

Fem Doll Moodboard

Teen Nostalgia Moodboard

Caregiver!Larry Daley (Night at the museum)

Camp Moodboard

Nature Aesthetic Stimboard

Winx Club Moodboard

Deer Moodboard

Bluey Moodboard

Caregiver!Karlach (Baulders gate 3)

Wild West Themed

Personal Teen/Tween Themed

Summer Themed StimBoard

Teenre Sleepover Themed

Regressor!Princess Peach (Mario)

Babre Themed

Mermaid StimBoard

Caregiver!Steve (Blues Clues)

Neo/Matrix Themed

Caregiver!Donna Noble + Regressor!14th Doctor

Regressor!Arnold Rimmer StimBoard (Red Dwarf)

Nostalgia Moodboard

Regressor!Spider (Heartbreak High)

Summer Themed Moodboard

Personal Teen/Tween Themed StimBoard

Fanfics/Stories

Headcannons

Caregiver!Rosa Diaz Headcannons (Brooklyn 99)

Playlists

Art

Ghoulia Yelps (Monster High)

DNI Banners

Dinosaurs

Jedediah, Ahkmenrak, Octavius, Larry (Night at the museum)

Hiccup Haddock (How to train your dragon)

Havik & Reiko (Mortal Kombat 1)

Kabal (Mortal Kombat 11)

11th Doctor, Amy & Rory Pond (Doctor Who)

JJ Maybank (Outer Banks)

Winx Club

Dork Diaries

Gabby's Dollhouse

Andrew Spencer & Mia Brooks (Love, Victor)

Bunny

Jane Margolis

Paci Icons

Midas (Fortnite)

Dave Lister (Red Dwarf)

Syzoth (Mortal Kombat 1)

Michelangelo (TMNT 2012)

James Conrad (Kong Skull Island)

Carmen Berzatto (The Bear)

Mileena (Mortal Kombat 1 & 11)

Cinnamoroll & Pompompurin (Sanrio)

Sebastian Castellanos (The evil within 2)

Howl Pendragon (Howls Moving Castle)

Victor Salazar (Love, Victor)

Dipper (Gravity Falls)

Spider (Heartbreak High)

Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad)

[sonofarathorns]

How old were you when you were first introduced to LOTR?

i was in 6th grade, so i think 11? i went to my friend’s house for a sleepover and somehow we ended up in a debate about hp vs. lotr and i told her i’d never seen it, and she was like, we’re fixing that right now. so we watched the fellowship and the two towers. i went home a changed person 😂 watched rotk with my dad who was thrilled i was taking an interest because he obsessed over the books as a kid. i’m reading the books right now for the first time and it’s taking me a long time but its fine!

Favourite LOTR character?

it’s hard because i love so many of them but… it’s aragorn. i mean come on. when you first meet him you have no idea he’s the heir of freaking gondor. and then he is polite and a good leader despite his scruffy appearance, he’s well traveled and diplomatic in dealings with distant lands, he takes charge in battle and ! his character arc and his realization of who he is and what he wants to do is just so interesting to me. and he’s hot.

Books or Movies?

movies! they’re so quotable, and i basically speak in memes and movie quotes 90% of the time. and they have aged so well compared to, certain marvel movies for example. the acting, the cinematography, the sets and costume design, the special effects, the music. and i get to see them in theaters for the first time next weekend 🥹

Which location in Middle Earth would you want to visit?

the shire! i would be so down to go drinking with merry, pippin, sam and frodo 😂🍺 🐉

Favourite Movie?

for the longest time it was the fellowship for the music alone, but i’ve gained a real appreciation for the two towers recently.

Favourite Scene?

all of them 😭 but i have a real soft spot for “i would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of mordor” “i know” like killllll meeeee because frodo knows he has to leave everyone but he doesn’t know the party is about to be split or what happens to boromir until much later and then it’s just chaos.

Favourite Quote?

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on... when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend... some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold.”

actually just teared up reading it. 🥺 it’s a quote that i find very applicable in the context of grief.

What Middle Earth race would you like to be?

a hobbit! all i want to do all day is be outside and garden and read and eat bread and cheese. sounds absolutely heavenly.

Favourite LOTR ship?

farawyn 🥹♥️ i’ll read fic about other ships but i wouldn’t call myself a diehard shipper.

thank you for the tag @erathene 😁