#I go for bad ideas like hobbits go for mushrooms

[shantismurf]

"The Mushroom Mine" sign by @shantismurf, with assistance from @tickles-ivory

As part of the celebration of the one year anniversary of the Bagginshield Book Club, we asked the lovely @chrononautintraining a few questions about this wonderful work.

June 2024 Author Q&A with Chrononautical

Q1. What name would you like us to use and what are your pronouns?

A1. Chrononautical or Chrono, She/Her

Q2. How many years have you been writing? 

A2. Most of my life, but posting publicly for about 15 years.

Q3. What do you think of as your writing style - are you a plotter or pantster?

A3. Pantster, primarily, though I've learned my lessons and do like to know where a story is going to end when I start it these days so I try to plot. 

Q4. What’s your favorite genre/trope to write? 

A4. Speculative fiction: stories about magic or science fiction, primarily. 

Q5. Is there a genre/trope you haven't written as much of yet that you're excited about for future writing?

A5. I'd like to do more comedy.

Q6. Was there an idea or scene that inspired A Passion for Mushrooms?

A6. Passion for Mushrooms is one hundred percent inspired by the quote I used for an epigraph: "Hobbits have a passion for mushrooms, surpassing even the greediest likings of Big People." - The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien. 

When I decided to write it, the fandom already had more than a few stories about Bilbo planting gardens and deciding to stay in Erebor with a miraculously alive Thorin. I was completely here for all of that, of course, but I wanted a story where the garden wasn't special because of gold or rare plants bought with gold. I wanted there to be a treasure that Bilbo could appreciate with the Baggins half of his heart, as well as the Tookish bit. And I know next to nothing about mountains, but I do know mushrooms do okay in caves, so... 

Q7. Did you do any special research before writing the work?

A7. If you're asking this because I go deep on How To Pluck A Chicken In A Medieval Kitchen during the cooking scenes, you're right and you should say it. I am a middling cook, but all of my ingredients come from grocery stores. I had to do a fair bit of research on the cooking aspects of the story that were furthest from my own experience. Fortunately, the professor already put tomatoes and potatoes in Middle-earth, so I didn't have to go Full Historical. 

Q8. Did the story change from how you originally envisioned it? Were there scenes or plot elements you had to cut out?

A8. It absolutely did. Because I am, as previously said, a pantster. I wanted a bigger bang for the ending of the story than I was set up to get. I could have stopped with Bilbo and Thorin getting together and had some simple falling action, but that didn't perfectly tie the subplot of Dis and Tauriel back to the main pairing, which I knew I wanted. Having Doron try to poison Bilbo was actually a late in the game choice. If I'd planned that from the start, I would have threaded him into more of the middle sections of the novel. 

As for cutting things out, the additional stories in the series started as deleted scenes/reader requests that I couldn't find use for. So most of what I cut didn't end up in the rubbish bin. Anything that wound up there really wasn't worth posting. 

Q9. Do you have a favorite moment from the entire series?

A9. I still really like "A Spy In The Shire" a lot. I know it's so self-indulgent to say that about a story focusing on an OC, but if the point of the Battle of Five Armies is to reclaim Erebor for the dwarves, then I want that to mean something. I want the average dwarf to be in a bad place. I want the average dwarf to need Erebor the way Thorin needs Erebor, to be willing to do anything to get back to the Lonely Mountain. Because if that's the case, then all the sacrifice means something. When I talk about this one luckless dwarf on the world's silliest quest to figure out how to help the king hook up with a hobbit, I'm talking about hope for the future. I'm talking about all the people who long for and dream of the home that Thorin was willing to die to reclaim. I think about them going back there and living better lives. It brings me peace.

[incorrectringsofpower]

Season 2 First 3 episodes thoughts (spoilers below the cut, DO NOT click the cut if you do not want to be spoiled!)

Episode 1

The dimples are a bit disarming ngl.

The chorals Bear added are interesting. Someone translate them please and thank you.

Ewwwww bug!Sauron nope nope nope.

Why hallo there handsome asshole :D

What's in the pouuuuch? (I don't think we're ever gonna find out tbh)

O shit are these the raft redshirts? Oh nooo.

I support horse girl rights and wrongs.

Mooom, Galadriel is a lying liar who lies.

Gil-galad looks so done lmfao. "Great-auntie whyyyy."

Elrond about to pull an Elwing.

I want to see my little boy (Isildur). (Where is heeeee?)

Hello Glüg, you SDCC photo gem.

Ah Waldreg you fucker. Guess you figured out between seasons that he ain't Sauron.

Lmao not Sauron pulling a Moses on Adar. Wtf are you doing buddy?

Nori my beloved

Wow The Stranger has so much vocabulary now. I still think he swallowed a Harfoot dictionary.

Ok additional Harfoot food note: Beetles (scarab beetles?)

Oh yeah some fic writers are reaaaaally gonna enjoy the scenes of Halron chained and collared. Here comes another fic deluge!

Sauron, don't you remember what happened with Huan in the FA?

BEN DANIELS TIME LET'S GOOOOO.

RIP to this random elf messenger bc I don't think he's gonna make it.

Ben Daniels has the raaaaange.

Eärendil mentionnnn. And Beleriand mention! I wonder why the Mariana Trench option wasn't considered in the TA. Update: Ok nvm Círdan will answer that for us.

Poppy! Hopefully the others can still travel without the maps she took.

The music is so prettyyyy.

"Your people have been set free." #doubt (show me the proof! also why did Sauron want that? He needed slaves to work the fields in Mordor, right?)

Ah Waldreg did die in the exact episode we predicted.

More elf nuns!

Elf costumes! I need an analysis post!

Lmao Elrond's face. "Grunkle Círdan, you betrayed meeee!"

Galadriel: How 'bout I do anyway?

Elrond: Thanks I hate it.

Galadriel: Please don't jump off waterfalls again.

Mirdania! Aw shit Halron got there before the nameless doomed Lindon elf.

Ominous ending music, Bear.

Episode 2

DWARVES MY BELOVED

I love the terrace farming so much.

Dwarf food note: Mole-tail stew, Large mushroom (chanterelle-like) that is very valuable, smaller mushrooms, gourds!

ilu Disa

This scene was exactly what I needed for dwarves and dwarvish food reasons.

Oh shit not my dwarves :(((

Alfirin seeds!

Ooh creepy!

New elf characters! Do they have names? Please give them names!

"Crush two spiders with one boot." Ooh I hate the foreshadowing of that metaphor. Hates it, hates it.

More foreshadowiiiing.

Mirror of Galadriel foreshadowing specifically!

Eregion is so beautiful and majestic (thanks, Season 2 budget!). Sure do hope nothing bad happens to it! (sobbing)

Yup, RIP Lindon messenger elves.

I looove this music.

Skeletor! (By the power of Grayskull!)

Ooh cultists.

The Dweller is back!

"curse upon our flesh" wut

I have a bad feeling about this. (Wait, wrong fandom)

Where is Narviiii.

Do Disa's friends have naaames? Wait x-ray actually was helpful for once. Rachel Payne as Brenna and Laura Jane Matthewson as Revna! I'm so happy she has named friends who even gossip!

Hi Narvi!

King Durin: But do I still have grandparent's rights?

"Stubborn as a root-bound parsnip!" Hah.

Oh my god he's working on ships. I love that so much.

Ooh shit a flashback to the woods scene from Udûn.

Why are you shaving, sir? Sir.

Ahhhh poetry mentions from the FA! How nerdy.

The bell seems bad.

Eye of Sauron?

Uh-oh. Is this how he learns how squishy hobbits are on adventures?

Ooh he's developing door ideas. Fun!

I get the feeling Mirdania ain't gonna last the season, either.

Fuuuck tower foreshadowing.

Ooh elf umbrella!

Oh you little weasel!

"I'm going to open a First Age bottle." Love that detail.

"Are you my friend?" Hoo boi.

Ominous thunderclap. Ooooh.

Is he gonna larp as an Istar? Lmao.

"Soon every realm will fall." Because of you, asshole!

Title drop!

Wow. Okay. Playing on his insecurities and also calling him the "Lord of the Rings". Overdoing it a bit much there, Ronnie?

"I am your partner." screech

Pope-galad says you need babysitter, Gal. I'm sure this will go splendidly!

Episode 3

Bronwyn ;_;

Berek best boi my beloved

Sad Elendil and Valandil :(((

YESSS OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING. EVERYONE STAY CALM. IT'S HAPPENING!

ISILDUR SAVE YOUR HORSE FOR THE LOVE OF ERU.

Pls don't kill Berek. I couldn't stand it 😭

ISILDUR BEST HORSE GIRL

THEY'D BOTH BETTER LIVE OR SO HELP ME

FUCKING RUN ISILDUR FFS

(GOD I HATE LARGE FANTASY SPIDERS AND THIS IS WHY)

Ooh the shells funerary detail!

Eärien girrrrl your evil phase alarms me.

This ship is so saddd :(

More ominous tower shit.

Pharazôn, you weasel 2.0.

Fucking foreshadowiiiing.

Valandil my beloved! Oooh tension with Kemen.

A baby orc! Fascinating!

Damrod has arrived!

More title dropping!

"--a friend." The emphasis was so funny.

Durin is suspicious. Love it.

Celebrimbor: Well if I start a Catholic schism then so be it.

It is your moment, Holly-boy, but also your doom. You're being Anakined into Vader by Palpannatar.

Isildur has discovered the DnD means of equipment acquisition.

Noooo more dead horsies :(

Estrid :D (please don't be evil)

Lmao at least he knows proper wound procedures lol.

DO NOT HURT BEREK

Potato food spotted!

ARONDIR YASSS

THEY STOLE BEREK NOOOOO

Arondir sir you are low on arrows.

Arondir ;_;

Bronwyn :(((( fuck I'm so sad about this

I will never recover from the Aronwyn ship, I fear :(

Theo, buddy, need someone to talk to?

Sad version of Aronwyn theme nooooo :(

Really not liking how much King Durin's crown sorta resembles Sauron's this season.

Theo taking over his mother's skills :(

Yup, poisoned orc arrow theory confirmed.

Stepparenting with foreshadowing for Numenor, delightfulll.

Please don't be foreshadowing.

Who is his dad? Oh no hurtful, Theo. Buddy :(

My Garden Fam is broken and I'm deeply unwell about it.

Theo-Isildur friendship time?

BEREK HEIST BEREK HEIST

Isildur really is so relieved to be alive and not eaten by spiders that he's gone friend mode. How very like his Grunkle Elrond!

Oh no Isildur mom backstory :(

Don't cry Isildur and Theo bc then I'm gonna cry ;;_;;

Also now this is a narrative parallel!

Ah good gift discussion next to the word "precious" is throwing my brain. Oh lordy.

Please don't be evil, Estrid! I'm already suffering without Bronwyn and both Disa and Míriel are doomed af.

Theo wtf are you doing?

ENTS.

No don't lose the sword Galadriel gave you!

Míriel in white, Elendil in blue and gold, Pharazôn in red. Totally Kate Hawley doing some fascinating storytelling here.

Oh no my quote about Elendil and his daughter in a courtroom is suddenly very apt. Oh dear.

What did Elendil see?

Huh the unrest happened sooner than I thought.

EAGLE TIME LET'S GOOOO!

Eagle: Y'all are gonna die!

Elendil: Top 10 anime betrayals and by my own daughter. Wtf.

Annatar gets his own cute lil forging outfit :D

More symbolism!

Oh god what a way to end the first 3 episodes. Send help.

[simplekeikaku]

Everyone who likes lord of the rings wants to know which fantasy race they would be and as an extremely judgmental person I’m uniquely positioned to break it down here we go

Orcs: Always down to barbecue. Sus hygiene. Basically nocturnal. Frankly this is most of us and we need to accept ourselves.

River Elves: Probably your neurodivergent friend: can perform extremely specific incredible feats but will literally lay down on the floor and die if the vibe is bad. Will fall in love once and never again, meaning that one hyperfixation is sticking with them ‘till the dirt hits their coffin. Gorgeous taste in music.

Dwarves: No goals, all ambition. Into stew. Very energetic. Has one ridiculous phobia but is afraid of nothing else ever. Doesn’t work out but is stupidly strong. Everyone wishes they had a dwarf friend.

Hobbits: Ultra strict on etiquette to the point that they will swing on a literal god if they think they’re being rude. Will die for what they believe in. What they believe in is getting snacks. Keeps promises. Survives weird shit. Thinks their outfit is fire and you don’t have the heart to tell them it’s not. Cuts their own hair.

Humans: Will assign themselves one specific character trait and hang their hat on it forever. Your friend who has a fruit tree or a 90’s Japanese car or is into jazz is a human. The idea that they may one day not be into their One Thing keeps them up at night. They have no idea who they would be without it.

Uruk-hai: Your fitness friend. The one with the godlike thighs. Also down to barbecue but sees it as a treat, not a basic requirement for life. Meal preps and is fine eating the same thing every day. Susceptible to cults, might currently be in one.

Trolls: Really hard-working but lacks style. Too altruistic. Into procedures and rules. Doesn’t like risk. Will criticize the food if you eat out. Always tries to get something for free. Legitimately the worst. Always dehydrated — be prepared to drive them to the hospital if they’re in the sun too long.

Wizards: If you know someone with a 3D printer they’re a wizard. It used to be having a box of cables they refuse to get rid of but now it’s a 3D printer. Thinks showing up on time is grind culture and will absolutely get dramatic about it. If they think Steve Jobs was a bad person you should be willing to kill for them, if they think Steve Jobs was a good person you should be willing to kill them. Eats like absolute dog shit but has one niche health trend they obsess and evangelize over, like adaptogenic mushrooms or juicing. If that sentence offended you I need you to know that both are great but they don’t make up for the 7-11 taquitos currently in your hand.

Ents: Gorgeous and smart. Has never really had to work for anything. Will dip if a challenge arises. Can’t remember their commitments, shows up to about half of them. Really popular on social media. Still a virgin because they got a crush on a fictional character in middle school and they’re holding out for the real life version who doesn’t exist.

Wood Elves: If their elk — I mean truck, doesn’t impress you, their personality won’t either. A douchebag but a cool douchebag. Always drinking. Everyone wants to kick their ass but that’s their idea of a good time. Always has a knife on them. The people at the hardware store and the auto parts store know them. Do not text them in a crisis, they will respond “You good? 👀” 2 weeks later.

Sméagol: Really needs to stop dyeing their own hair and just go to therapy. Spends all their money on sushi. Loves themself but hates themself too, probably goth. Liable to end up in a t-shirt in the snow because they keep forgetting to buy a jacket. Monster energy enthusiast. No one is more shocked they’re still alive than they are.

Balrogs: Into MMA. Might have taken a boxing lesson once or twice and says they box. You’re not willing to find out. Tough motherfucker but will cry if you yell at them. Seems difficult to kill but will one day trip over a rock and fall to their death.

Eagles: If you look into their eyes you can tell Highway to the Danger Zone is playing in their head. Never around. Will wake up at 4:00 am to tow your car out of a ditch when no one else would answer their phone, so you can’t be mad at them for it. Somehow never gets cold. Thrives under stress.

Ringwraiths: The people you forget about until it’s too late. Liable to screenshot. You keep trying to ghost them but somehow they’re always in the group chat and at events you were sure they weren’t invited to. Does not wash their hands. You have to admit they dress really well but it’s only because they make a lot of money. Probably into crypto. Probably drives a Tesla.

Nazgûl: Ringwraith but without the money. Probably likes Elon Musk. Not willing to admit their parents pay for their apartment. Secretly wishes they could be a trophy husband/wife, might even have the body for it. Will talk to you about dropshipping.

Dragons: Nazgûl but with more money than a Ringwraith. Very talented at one or two things, thinks this will get them through life, it probably will. The insane wealth helps. Thinks everyone is jealous of them.

Horse: 4 legs. It’s not you. You’re not a horse.

[ramblingkat]

I’m not sure exactly where this came from. And it’s four, almost five in the morning. Have random eldritch blurbs. 

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Isshin, Kisuke, Ichigo

Notes: Eldritch things are about. Headcanons as well. Here be monsters. 

He wouldn’t stop crying. 

At this point, Isshin was getting desperate. He could see that Masaki was as well. Both of them were going around with dark shadows under their eyes, and Isshin was feeling sluggish from how little sleep he was getting. Every time one or the other of them started to get to sleep, the crying would start again. 

Ichigo wailed, reedy voice raspy for all near constant crying he did. Even when the baby fell into some fitful sleep, he whimpered and fussed still. If Isshin thought he and Masaki looked horrible, it was nothing compared to their baby. 

He was so -thin-. They had taken him to their pediatrician. They had taken him to the specialist the pediatrician had recommended. They had even taken him to Ryuken, who was still working on finishing his training as a doctor. None of them could offer any reason on why Ichigo would not stop crying. Why he would eat greedy and almost as constantly as they could feed him, and still continued to lose weight. 

There was no fat baby cheeks for him. No pudgy little arms and chubby belly. Ichigo was thin, and Isshin could swear he was getting thinner in front of their eyes. 

He was desperate. 

So, after telling Masaki his plan, Isshin went across town and let himself into a candy shop. 

Inside, Tessai was cleaning, though his head came up as the sound of the wail that came from Ichigo. Before Isshin could say anything, there was the soft sound of the door in the back of the public area opening and a head of mussed pale hair sticking out. 

“What,” Kisuke said after a moment, blinking sleepily, “is that?”

He seemed to have just woken up, and Isshin had a moment of jealousy that the man could get to sleep. But he shook it off. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Urahara, there was always too much in that man’s head for him to fully trust anyone. Plus, having heard the official story that was told in the Seireitei over why the twelfth’s former captain was no longer a captain, Isshin had a hard time shaking off his paranoia. Even with everything the man had done for him since he’d come to the living world. 

That was not important now. 

“Ichigo,” he said, short and to the point. “He cries constantly. He barely sleeps. He’s always hungry.” 

Kisuke looked at him, a faintly dubious look on his face. “Don’t...all babies do that?” he asked slowly. Likely, Isshin thought  uncharitably, this was the closest he’d been allowed to a baby. Most people knew not to let assassins and madmen pretending to be scientists near children. 

“He doesn’t gain weight,” Isshin continued. “It’s not a physical thing. Masaki and Ryuken both say he’s having odd bursts of reiatsu. Masaki says she feels cold when she feeds him.” 

Just as he expected, that piqued Kisuke’s interest. The other man came closer. He looked at the baby in Isshin’s arms, then held his own out. “Give him here.”

After a moment of hesitation, he did. 

For being so uncertain about how babies worked in general, it was obvious that Kisuke had not been looking at Ichigo so much as how Isshin was holding the infant. He settled Ichigo into his arms with surprising ease. It was actually something of a shock, though Isshin couldn’t put his finger on why. 

Kisuke held his hand over Ichigo a moment, eyes glittering strangely all at once. 

Isshin looked away. 

When the light reflected that way, it was just safer to not look directly at Kisuke. Every instinct in Isshin’s body and soul screamed to take Ichigo away from what held him, even as his brain tried to reject that anything was holding Ichigo. 

Kisuke might not have corrupted his fellow captains like it was claimed, but he had definitely done -something- that was wrong. 

Then Ichigo stopped crying. 

His neck popped, Isshin whipped his head up to look at his child. But Ichigo was still there, Kisuke’s hand on his body. Eyes caught between bluish and brown slowly blinked close, tiny fingers curled around Kisuke’s.

“Go away,” Kisuke said softly. “For at least an hour. I need to focus.”

Isshin bristled. He was not going to….

“If you want your son to live for much longer. Go. Away.” 

Kisuke’s tone echoed in Isshin’s skull, and he swayed. To the side, he saw Tessai murmuring, hand held up, a faint glow around his head. Trying to think past the buzzing in his ears, he swallowed hard. “What are you doing to do?” 

Even his own voice sounded far away and distant. 

“I’m going to help,” Kisuke said after a moment, sounding like himself again, cheerful and like a human. A muffled human, but human nonetheless. 

He turned and vanished back into the private rooms. Isshin went to follow, only for Tessai to grab his arm. 

“We should go,” he said quietly “It would not do for you to die while your son is saved.”

He wanted to stay. Wanted to shrug off Tessai’s hand and go after his son. Whatever Urahara was going to do, it wasn’t going to be good. He knew it. 

But…. Urahara had saved Masaki, all those years ago. He’d helped Isshin settle into this life he had now. He was a monster, but he had kept his word so far. 

Isshin allowed himself to be tugged along and wondered what his son would be when he saw Ichigo next. 

<center>***</center>

Humming to himself, Kisuke slipped back through the shop. He came to a section of the hall, smiled, and then stepped sideways. The world twisted, and he followed his new path. In his arms, Ichigo mumbled, still pulling power through the grip he had on Kisuke’s fingers. 

“Poor little thing,” Kisuke crooned at him, allowing the poor thing to eat. “They make you half a monster and leave it at that. You’d think they’d know better than that.” He smiled. “Quincies and hollows, so similar in their needs, if not volume.” 

He felt power being pulled from him, being soaked up by Ichigo as the baby fed in a way he so obviously needed desperately. What had they been thinking? Oh, he’d expected something to happen, but to let a baby starve like this. 

Hollows and Quincy fed off spiritual power, even if the Quincy denied it. They could pretend with all their twisted little souls that they were just regular humans with powers. If that was the case, he wouldn’t need Quincy -and- human power to make a vaccine for the visored. 

Poor little Ichigo fed off reishi around him when it was free, and off the reiryoku inside of people when he could touch them. But he couldn’t get enough. Not for the hollow that was in the heart of his soul. Even as a baby, he could feel that hunger.

What were Masaki and Ryuken doing? Isshin was blind as any regular person now, so Kisuke could understand him missing it. But those two were still talented in their own way. How could they miss the fact Ichigo -hungered-?

Not that it mattered. Kisuke had plans for this malleable little soul. 

He always wanted a child of his own. 

Some more walking took them to the place he kept his precious little toy, the beat of her breathing echoing in his heart, pulsing in time with his blood. Kisuke could hear her singing, wanting to stretch out and reach for things not even he could see. But she was too small, too weak. Even as he fed her, there was not enough power for what she wanted.

But the core of that broken star was his own soul, and Kisuke knew she’d get what she wanted someday. Right now, she was quiet other than her soft song, though he could feel her buzzing as he got closer. 

The closest thing he had to a child so far, something pure and distilled of himself and Benihime. A thing of destruction, creation, and everything between. 

Her singing grew louder as he settled near the ornate wooden box that held her. Keeping Ichigo tucked against his chest with one arm, he opened the box and curled his fingers around the humming darkness that was the Hogyoku. 

She seemed to shiver under his grasp, pulling a bit of power from him, just as Ichigo had been before Kisuke had pulled his hand free. The boy whimpered, but was otherwise quiet. Though he’d just fed quite heavily on Kisuke’s power. Poor thing probably needed to settle that first, but Kisuke knew he’d be starving again soon enough. 

That gave him time for this. 

A sigh, and he shut his eyes. 

“Come on, we need to help feed your brother,” he said cheerfully, reality going hazy around him for a moment. 

When he had made the Hogyoku, Kisuke had started with a simple thing. A mix of the four powers. It hadn’t been hard to get what he needed. Though he had chosen to use a piece of his own soul, using Benihime to weave shinigami will with Quincy light, Hollow hunger, and pure human strength. Weaving the strands over and together, breaking them apart at the most basic of layers until they stopped being separate. When they went from being four different types of power and flavors to a glorious, radiant whole. 

He still didn’t remember everything, but it had ripped something apart, and he had killed half the people who had been in the labs that night. If Central 46 had discovered that, he’d have been facing them long before Aizen had made his move. 

But Kisuke had figured out how to put himself together again, to separate his mind and body from what it -could- be. 

He simply wasn’t done being Kisuke  and Benihime yet. 

But the Hogyoku was still this pulse infant of possibilities. Everything and anything was a potential reality for her. Once she fed enough. Once her song stopped having a note of hunger. 

Convincing her to share her food with her new brother took some doing. Kisuke was sure he was going to sleep for a week and then go hunting to feed all of them.

Well, that was what a good parent did, he supposed. .

Shifting, he held the Hogyoku above Ichigo’s chest. “Come on now,” he said cheerfully, even as she pouted in his fingers. “Be good.” 

Still, she resisted until Benihime sent a pulse down Kisuke’s arm into beating black creation. When would she learn that Kisuke was the nice parent?

Then a shift in his fingers, and a thick, oozing drop of something formed, dripped and shifted downwards. As it went, the bit of darkness shifted through solid, liquid, what he thought might be plasma, and a few other states of matter Kisuke had never seen. 

How interesting. 

Then it landed on Ichigo, soaking into his skin almost instantly.

Kisuke waited. 

A sensation that felt like a grumble through his fingers, and he felt the power drift from the Hogyoku towards Ichigo. Who absorbed it.

Then reality warped again. It had done it once with his first child, and now, it did it with his second. 

Ichigo’s eyes opened, a brilliant, faceted golden rainbow of colors with no names, and a chill ran down Kisuke’s spine. Fear and interest all at once. 

The two looked at each other for a long moment, then Ichigo yawned, blinked his eyes a few times. Kisuke was almost disappointed when they returned to the color they had been when Isshin brought the boy. But he also felt a bit of pleasure at a job well done. Already, even in just this few seconds, Ichigo’s cheeks were starting to fill out. 

“Really,” he said, putting the Hogyoku away, back into her box. “If your parents wanted to create a monster, they shouldn’t have stopped half way. That’s simply bad science.”

He stood, and then headed back to the front. 

Children were an interesting idea, but feeding them was the most Kisuke wanted to do with them until they were able to talk. 

“Remember,” he said to the drowsy infant he carried. “This is our little secret.”

Ichigo yawned and went to sleep. 

[erosofthepen]

Hello! I hope you're doing well, happy holidays! Thanks for doing those really self-indulgent Dark Academia asks for me, I really appreciate it! I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a similar Imagine about which Lotr and The Hobbit Characters would most enjoy having a Cottagecore s/o. I really like Aesthetics, so I thought this idea might go well with the Academia one. Thanks so much, I hope I'm not bothering you with all these Aesthetic-themed Asks. Best wishes!

Happy Holidays! It’s never a bother to do these, I enjoy them immensely! It’s actually quite funny that you asked this today, because I spent maybe two hours watching cottagecore tiktok compilations on youtube today, so i’m most definitely in the mood for this! I hope you enjoy!

Lotr:

~Samwise

This one is a no brainer. Of course this Hobbit would absolutely love a Cottagecore s/o! He is a cottage core icon. Expect early mornings out in the garden, tending to the flowers and vegetables. He would probably teach you the different names and meanings behind all the flowers, and you can bet that he would then place said flowers behind your ear, kissing your cheek in the process. Such a sweet Hobbit. Afternoons would be spent baking all sorts of breads and pastries and cookies, and probably getting flour everywhere too! After dinner, you both would sit in gardens and sip tea or read to one another (Sam is very proud that he is learned in his letters). He would love everything about a cottage core s/o!

~Legolas

Legolas, in my opinion, is a very gentle elf, despite being able to kick-ass. He loves how nature-centered his s/o is, and adores everything about them. He would totally be down to flower pick any time of the day, and would most definitely end up weaving them into their hair, singing elvish melodies all the while. And given that elves are so good with animals, he might even attract some little bunnies or deer! For clothing, he would commission fabrics from the shire to Mirkwood for his s/o to ensure cottage core authenticity. Because everyone knows that the Shire is where cottage core was born. Legolas with a cottagecore s/o would make for a very soft couple.

~Faramir

The best man in Middle Earth, Faramir is perfect with any type of s/o. He’s incredibly sweet with a cottage core s/o, always making sure fresh flowers are delivered to them every morning. He is always looking for books or poems that give off cottage core vibes in the Gondor libraries, and when he finds one, he delivers it alongside a warm cup of tea. If you fall asleep reading, Faramir might bookmark your place with flowers, so when you open it up the next day, you are greeted with some lovely, fresh-pressed flowers. In return, his s/o would bake for him, and whether it’s sourdough or muffins, Faramir will savor every bite.

The Hobbit:

~Bilbo Baggins

Again, this is a no brainer. Bilbo is ✨soft✨, and will forever enjoy his books, his garden, and his cup of tea. However, he enjoys them better when his cottage core s/o is around. Both his s/o and him would bake nearly everyday, and would totally make and store jam for whatever fruit or berry is in season. Berry picking and mushroom foraging are daily hobbies, and picnics in the garden happen at least once a week. Bilbo is also a fashion expert, and will forever help his s/o with their outfits, and would probably like coordinating the colors to compliment each other. That’s just what he does.  

~Fili

Ah, my favorite little lion dwarrow, who i’m pretty sure everyone in the fandom would die for. Fili is naturally very protective, so him having a soft and sweet cottage core s/o would triple his protective instinct. He’s very worried about his s/o going off on their own, so he always comes along for walks in the meadow or foraging in the woods. During picnics and such, he would find different flowers and ferns and braid them into his s/o’s hair, probably while they read him stories and/or facts about nature. Gifts are a big part in dwarrow culture, so expect plenty of pretty jewelry and such that matches with his s/o’s outfits and hairstyles. He would also probably make his s/o a special knife for foraging that is decorated with dwarrow runes and flower designs.

~Bofur

Bofur would absolutely love a cottage core s/o, and would love nothing more than living a quiet life with them in the forrest. Again, with dwarrow, there’s always going to be gifts involved, and I believe Bofur would make his s/o lots of little wood figures and carvings, bring pretty crystals or gems from the mines, and perhaps write a few songs in his s/o’s name. He’d love helping out with baking/cooking (though, he says he could never match his s/o’s skill when it comes to the kitchen), and there will certainly be times when Bofur steals all the sweets before they were meant to be eaten. He’s sneaky like that. I imagine while his s/o tends to the garden, he’d be off gathering/chopping wood for the fire. The dynamic of Bofur with a cottage core s/o is very sweet.

~Beorn

Beorn, the man, or bear, depending on his mood. We all already know that his Halls are the cottage core dream, complete with a humongous garden, giant bumblebee hives, and all sorts of animals, so it makes sense that this skin changer would be attracted to a cottage core s/o. They would spend much of the time storing honey, taking care of the bees, and making candles out of beeswax. There would be a great deal of woodworking (I mean, the interior of his house is practically all carved with norse-inspired designs), and I believe reading by the fire after a hard days work would be common. Baking would occur often, as well as playing chess with his giant chess set (I want it sooooo bad). He would be incredibly protective over his s/o (as his entire race was killed off), and would be wary of them going out alone. When he cannot come along, he sends one of his dogs with his s/o (in the books, his dogs were so smart that they could talk).

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping pt. 3

The Fellowship x Reader

Grocery runs, unsavory conversations of stalking, and toxic mushrooms. Fun.

Trigger warning: Discussions of stalking and dangerous people.

Good ole Sam wasted no time in compiling an entire list of at least 25 different items (some of which you don’t know of), and when he handed it to you, you pat him on the head and praised his devotion to good food. 

You hold a great deal of respect for Samwise for a couple of reasons, and his excellent knack for culinary things is one of them. He does use some off language when referring to different techniques, but it’s easy to work around that language barrier since he’s pretty well spoken (also, you have the others there to give you assistance if you're too confused). 

After you got the list, though, you went ahead and walked to your room and began to get ready, which is what you’re doing now. 

Reluctantly, you change out of your fluffy pants and put on a pair of jeans and maroon shirt, fixing up your hair with some pins once your clothes are all sorted out. 

Once you’re satisfied that you don’t look like a total slob, you leave your room and join the others who are having a discussion about something in the living room. At this point you’ve learned to just tune them out during their boring conversations. 

When you step out into the room it goes quiet.

At first you think it’s because they’re discussing sensitive information, but then you see their eyes locked on your outfit which is different from your usual fluffy pants and t-shirt. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Aragorn asks, glancing over at Sam who seems to know exactly what’s going on. 

You nod your head and grab your purse from the counter and pull your phone out of your pocket. 

Great, more calls and texts from Brian. 

With a roll of your eyes you put your phone in the pocket of your jeans and head towards the door. “I sure am, and I’ll be back shortly." 

"Wait, I still have the list!” Sam calls suddenly, making you pause and pat your pockets. 

“Oh shoot, you’re right!” You turn and accept the list gratefully, then say apologetically, “I promise I wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on you, I just forgot." 

He nods his head (he doesn’t quite understand your odd figurative language) and takes a step back, asking slowly, "Are you sure you don’t need any help…?" 

Aw, what you would give to be able to bring him with you, but no matter how much you wanna, you can’t. 

"I’m sorry Sam. I really want to bring you with me, but it won’t end well for any of us. People will take pictures, hunt me down, and you’ll all probably be taken to government facilities for ‘testing’.” You ruffle his hair tenderly and sigh.

“Government facilities for testing?” Pippin the ever curious hobbit asks slowly. “Taken away?" 

Right, they probably have no idea what any of that means. "Well… how should I put this…” You reach up and bite your thumb while you think it over, then you nod and start again, “You see, humans in my world are really 'curious’ I guess you could say. When there’s something they don’t understand or can’t control, they like to take that thing and do one of two things.” You hold up a single finger, “One, they will lock you up in a lab somewhere and do god knows what to learn what they want. Like experiments and stuff.” You then held up a second finger, “Two, they will eliminate you." 

It seems your explanation successfully scared them all straight because none of the hobbits asked to come along after that. 

"Maybe I’ll be able to figure something out later on, but for now just stay put, okay?”

They all agreed without hesitation.

—

When you came back a few hours later you were greeted by a really excited Penny as well as Merry and Pippin. “Do you need help with the bags?” They ask eagerly, and you nod. 

“I do… my car is only a few feet away so I suppose it’s okay for you two to go out and grab some. Just stay out of sight and come back in straight away.”

The two hobbits nod their heads and scamper outside to your car (you’d showed it to them a few days back) and began taking the bags from your car. 

Boromir follows after them (he’s quite fond of them you’ve noticed) to make sure they don’t drop anything or get seen no doubt, and nods at you on his way out. 

After everything is brought inside you begin to put everything where it belongs, letting Sam look at everything you got food-wise before putting it away which seemed to make him quite happy. 

Once all the food is taken care of you go back to the remaining bags that contain some other things like toiletries and new clothes that will actually fit them with Merry and Pippin standing over your shoulders to see what you’ve got. 

You hold up some kids section plain clothes and hand it off to them, “These are for you two and Sam and Frodo too." 

They nod in unison. 

You then pull out some more clothes that are more fit for men and pass it off to Legolas who is standing with the hobbits. "And those are for you and Boromir and Aragorn.”

After everyone takes the things you gave them you stand up straight and clap your hands, “Alright, so what I want to happen is everyone bathe and then change into those and then I’ll figure out how to wash your things. Sound good?”

“Yes, thank you very much for your hospitality.” Boromir states, standing from his claimed spot on the couch to approach. “You’ve been very generous." 

"Very generous indeed. We owe you a great debt for welcoming us like this and paying our way through your world.” Aragorn agrees from your comfy chair with Penny in his lap.

You have to resist the urge to glare at him for stealing the love of your life, so you glance away quickly with a pout on your face. “What else was I going to do? Throw you all out?" 

Theres a few moments of silence before Aragorn speaks again, "Well, yes. You would’ve been right to do so, as well." 

"No way, that would’ve been a horrible thing to do! And I like to consider myself a pretty decent person.” You cross your arms over your chest after saying this and glance over toward the front door, thinking silently to yourself for a moment before asking, “None of you happened to see a small black vehicle outside earlier, right?" 

Pippin and Merry share a questioning look, a silent exchange asking if one or the other saw what you’re asking about, before looking back at you and shaking their heads. Boromir also shakes his head 'no’, "I’m afraid not. May I ask why?”

You don’t reply right away, and when you do it’s more of a mumble, “It’s nothing. Just, well, that’s the car the guy who was here yesterday drives and…” You trail off after a moment reaching up to bite at your thumb again like earlier. Quite well you know that Brian has been lowercase ’s’ stalking you, and while that’s unnerving and creepy as fuck you don’t feel much worry about anything happening with them here. What you’re really worried about is him seeing them.

When you don’t speak for a while Legolas asks curiously, “And, what?" 

Your teeth stop biting at your thumb and you allow your hand to fall to your side, focusing in on them again, "Sorry, what I was saying is that he… likes to watch… me, and, er, my house. I’m just worried he’s trying to catch a glimpse of the lot of you is all." 

The taller men and elf share a look, one that you can’t put your finger on, but none of them get a chance to speak before Gimli grumbles, "It sounds like you’ve got a double shadow, if you were to ask me." 

That’s one way to put it. 

"I guess you could say that.” It feels weird to discuss this with others (much less 8 others from another timeline), but it’s better than discussing it with Marissa or something. Nothing ever happens to him because he’s the son of the boss, so when he set his sights on you, you had no other choice then to deal with it. Certainly you would be fired if you were to make a complaint, and it sends shivers down your spine to think about not having your job as a safety net against him anymore. “I-It’s complicated." 

When you descend into silence once more they share more odd looks, and Legolas breaks the quiet once more. 

"Is that man from the day before the reason for your,” he pauses and looks like he’s trying to recall something. His expression brightens when he seems to remember, too, “your hand phone’s constant singing?”

Oh, so they noticed that. Isn’t that embarrassing. 

“You’re very observant… Yes. He is. When I don’t reply right away he likes to send upwards to 100 messages to get my attention." 

"100?” Merry asks in disbelief, looking at his cousin, “That sounds like a lot." 

You reach up and rub the back of your neck, nodding your head sheepishly, "It is. I guess I just ignore it usually." 

"And he tracked you to your home?” Aragorn asks. Before you can respond he asks another question though, “Is he your lover?”

The innocent question makes you physically cringe, and you shake your head quickly and make an 'X’ with your arms, “Um, hell no. That stalker ain’t no lover to me. I don’t know how things are for you, but men like that typically are of the very unsavory sort.” You drop your arms to your sides again, then reach up and run your fingers through your hair as you become more stressed, “He’s a bad person." 

"Then why not tell him you wish to be left alone?” Boromir questions, eyebrows furrowing. “Like you did yesterday." 

Oh, these poor dears certainly don’t get it at all. 

Of course, it’s your job to explain it to them, but you’re not sure if they will even understand. Who knows how things are where they’re from, after all. Maybe they live in some place that doesn’t have this sort of problem.

You then begin to explain, "It’s hard to explain… You see, sometimes when men don’t get their way here, they take it anyway and then we get punished for it. I can’t just tell him to leave me alone because he’s the son of my boss, therefore he is also my boss. So if he makes… advances towards me, I can’t tell him to screw off because I can’t afford to be fired. And the reason I felt comfortable enough to do it yesterday is because I had the two of you there. He’s a coward, and wouldn’t dare to do something in the presence of others he has no control over.” It seems they’re beginning to understand, but there is still confusion in their expressions. 

“So you can’t say so for that reason?” Merry asks, head tilted to the side slightly in a way that makes his shiny curls sway in front of his face. 

“That’s one reason. Yes." 

"And the other?” The blond elf asks again. He’s got to be the most curious of this bunch (next to Pippin of course).

“The other? Well, it’s something a lot more, um, unhappy.” You’re not sure how else to explain it.

No one says anything this time, but you can see that they’re waiting for you to elaborate further. 

“People like him aren’t used to being told no. They see people as playthings and puppets since they’ve been handed everything their whole life. He has power, and I don’t, so therefore I have to just deal with it. I mean, no one would bat an eyelash if he did whatever.” You don’t want to outright say it because it’s a very unsavory and uncomfortable topic, but they just don’t understand where you’re coming from. 

At least they don’t judge you, though.

“But why?” Pippin asks again, scratching the back of his head. “A new job doesn’t seem so bad if you don’t have to deal with him, right?" 

A part of you is grateful that they’re trying to hard to see where you’re coming from, but gosh they won’t get it if you aren’t more direct. 

"I don’t know what people like him are really capable of, Pippin. If I tell him I’m not interested and I hurt his feelings, there’s a strong possibility he would probably kill me, or do something worse than that." 

It seems that bluntness did the trick.

Unfortunately, the confusion is quickly replaced with expressions of horror and bewilderment. 

"He’s going to kill you?” Aragorn questions in alarm, looking over at Boromir and Legolas who share similar shocked expressions. 

Boromir shakes his head and looks at you again, saying rather determinedly, “We won’t let that happen." 

"No, I didn’t say he is going to kill me, I said it’s a strong possibility.” You feel kinda guilty for worrying them like that, “Besides, as long as I don’t go out at night by myself or address his affections directly then I won’t have to worry about it too much anyways." 

You get some weird looks and Legolas asks slowly, "Why do you say that so calmly? Like you’ve already accepted that something horrid could happen with a single misstep?" 

That’s a nice way to put it. Not. 

"Because it’s the reality I live in. Is it not like that where you’re from?” You rub your arms and shift from foot to foot, glancing down at the ground briefly to avoid looking at all their stares. 

“I wouldn’t say that. The world of men is just as despicable there as it is here, but I suppose that it seemed more likely that it would be different in this place.” Aragorn explains, gently stroking his hand down Penny’s back. “But I suppose with us here, you’re safer." 

"I don’t doubt that for a second.” A small smile comes to your face at the assurance of protection, and it warms your lil’ ole heart. 

Okay, but you’re kinda done with this topic now, so you suddenly clap loudly and pick up a bag full of fluffy fabric. 

“Enough of that depressing stuff! I’ve got a bag here full of absolute heaven, and there’s some for all of you!" 

Pippin’s expression brightens, he knows exactly what you’re about to bring out, and he runs over to look inside of the paper bag.

You pull out a bundle of dark blue, red, and black checkered fuzzy pants and drop them all onto the couch. You begin to separate them by size, all the kids sizes on the left, and the mens sizes on the right. 

The boys pants are red and black, while the mens are dark blue and black. What you really wanted was to have everyone match, but this was the best you could do. 

"I’ve also got some t-shirts in this bag,” you nudge another paper bag to your right with your foot, “So you can all bathe and give me your… outfits, and we can figure out how to clean them in my washing machine." 

You turn with a bright smile on your face, and it seems your excitement is rubbing off on them because you see at least 5 matching smiles. 

The hobbits get all of theirs right away and seem rather grateful, Gimli grumbles something about the color, and the dudes and elf guy all share a look but accept it regardless. 

Pippin holds his new pants on one arm and states a very happy, "Thank you!” Before scampering off to the guest room you gave them to, probably, put them on. 

—

Later in the day after you’ve successfully corrupted the majority of them with your magical fluffy pants, you are hanging out in the backyard with the hobbits (you have a substantial backyard with a tall wooden fence, so you don’t worry about anyone seeing them) when Merry and Pippin suddenly gather around the far left corner of your backyard. 

You pay it no mind at first and continue to idly scroll through your phone, slouching heavily in the chair with your feet planted on the ground and butt half off the chair, until Merry calls to Frodo and Sam, saying something about looking at a thing over there. 

Still you don’t get up to investigate, but you do lower your phone a bit and look at them over the screen like you do when Penny is misbehaving and trying to be sneaky. 

They’re all huddled over something, so you sit up normally on the chair and squint a bit to look at what they’re doing before your eyes go wide. “Hey! No, stop that!” You yell loudly, jumping to your feet and running over as your phone falls on the concrete. You take on a tone you usually only use when talking to your pupper, force of habit you suppose, and it successfully makes them all turn with wide eyes. 

You’ve only ever raised your voice two times, yesterday with Brian, and now, so suffice to say your sudden outburst shocked them all. 

All the hobbits paused with wild mushrooms halfway in their mouths or in the middle of chewing, each one looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“You can’t eat those!” You exclaim, leaning down and smacking them out of their hands. “They’re poisonous!" 

Oh god, you’re going to have to call poison control, but how on earth are you going to explain any of this? But you can’t just let them die or something, ugh but then you be in so much trouble. 

You reach up and pull at your hair roughly, pacing back and fourth, "Oh god, oh god.” Your pacing is quick and movements frantic as you try to figure out what you’re going to do, “I’ve just killed their hobbits, oh god, why wasn’t I paying attention? I can’t believe I didn’t notice, how could I not?! Oh god!” You look over at them, noticing how all of them are looking at you weirdly, but you ignore that as you rack your brain for a solution, “Is it too late for them to regurgitate it? Ugh that’s disgusting but I can’t call poison control! Way to go Y/N!" 

It seems the commotion has drawn the attention of the other four inside, because the next thing you know Aragorn is stepping in front of you with an alarmed expression on his face. "What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just killed your hobbits is what’s wrong!” You cry, pointing at the four of them and their damned mushrooms, “I-I wasn’t paying attention and they started putting those in their mouths and eating them! They aren’t supposed to do that!" 

The backyard is silent for at least 20 seconds before everyone around you bursts into laughter.

Yes you heard that right, laughter. 

These psychopaths think this is funny!? 

You look around at all of them with bewilderment, stopping your pacing since you aren’t quite in on the joke. 

Was it a prank? Or is there something you’re not getting here? Because they are definitely laughing at you and you don’t like it one bit. 

"Those mushrooms are not poisonous to the little ones, Miss Y/N.” Boromir explains. He’s not laughing quite as much, though he does still looking very amused. “They eat things deadly to us all the time, but they’ve an immunity to it." 

You kinda just stare at him blankly for a few moments before slowly looking over at the hobbits again, then back at Boromir. "I-Immunity…?” Comes you slow question. “So like, they aren’t gonna die?" 

"No." 

You don’t say anything for a little while, running your hand through your hair slowly as you try to process what the hell is going on. "You know what, I’m not even gonna touch on that." 

Really the fact that you haven’t gone insane yet as is, is impressive in itself, so you find it better to just let the weird stuff pass on by and hope none of it affects you directly. "Enjoy your… mushrooms.” You grumble, walking back to the patio to pick up your phone. 

You were so panic stricken a moment ago that when you dropped your phone on the concrete, the screen cracked. 

Legolas walks up to you as you dust off your phone, “You seemed rather concerned for the hobbits.” He muses, looking down at you curiously. 

A slight flush begins to creep up your neck and you look away, “And what about it?" 

"I only think it interesting how quickly you came to care for them, nothing more. I do not think we have seen you so panicked before." 

Well he’s got a point there. 

You shrug your shoulder lamely, not really sure yourself the reason behind being so concerned for them. "I dunno… I just felt really scared when I saw that is all. I’d be really upset if something were to happen to them.” Your words surprise you slightly, because it’s true. In such a short amount of time, you’ve managed to care for all of them much more then you probably should. 

The blond elf hums thoughtfully and looks back at the others, “It puts me at ease to know we have such a gracious and attentive host, so allow me to thank you for that." 

His praise warms your heart, because truthfully there have been a few times that you’ve been concerned that you aren’t doing enough, but it seems they don’t share in this thought process. "Thank you for saying that." 

"My pleasure." 

[the-durin-boys]

Mushrooms..? -- Thorin x Reader

Howdy yall I hope you like this I got this idea when I was falling asleep and u know those dreams where ur like half awake and half asleep? It was like that, and I was dreaming about this. So I got up and wrote it. 

Enjoy!

--- The morning hunt was not as successful as it could have been, Fili and Kili only bringing back two small rabbits that would, in no way, feed fifteen people. Everyone was, of course, disappointed and hungry, but all had the better mind to not complain. 

So not the best start to your day. You knew that when you signed that contract that you would be going on an adventure where the next place that you sleep, eat, and drink, would not be known or assured, so of course you knew that there would be some days where there would be little to no food. You aren’t an idiot. 

But by the gods. This. This is just awful. Just a truly awful experience.

The day before the company of Thorin Oakenshield had been run down and then chased through a field full of hidden rocks and roots, the hunters being a pack of Orcs (again). This forced the company into hiding, without a fire, and without movement for several hours. By the time the Orc pack had left, it was far too late into the night to actually go out and successfully and safely hunt for dinner. Thorin forbid the use of a fire that night, so everyone went to sleep tired, cold, and hungry, hoping that the dawn of tomorrow would bring about food and peaceful travel. And as you can see, that is not how things went down. 

Balin rationalized the lack of game in the forest to the forest just being run dry by other hunters and hungry folk. So the day started off less than lackluster, and as the company slowly and hungirly packs up their bags, the Master Burglar, Bilbo Baggins, has an idea. 

“We could go foraging. For food that is.” He pauses and looks around the lightly wooded area that the company hid in. Bilbo’s hands are at his hips as he quickly surveys the trees. “There might be some edible mushrooms and possibly some berries that might make up for a lack of breakfast.” Thorin steps forward, a stern look on his face but a gleam in his eye. 

“Well why didn’t you speak up earlier?” Thorin’s shadow all but hides the poor hobbit, who can do nothing but squeak until Bofur claps a friendly hand on his shoulder. 

“Ah, he’s only jokin’ with ya, Bilbo! Now, what were you sayin’ about those mushrooms?” 

--

It doesn’t take long for a small pack of dwarves to form, and then they’re off, being led into the forest by Bilbo. Left behind in the camp are you (you have no idea what mushrooms are good, bad, and drugs), Ori, Thorin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. You kept yourself busy, puttering around the little camp, mending clothing that needed it, filling up water sacks, the like. You always did little things like this, and thus, quickly became cherished by those around you. It had gotten to such a state where the others would actually jump on your chores, and help you out. A few even asked if they could do anything for you. You politely declined, saying that you enjoyed the work, and that you are grateful for something to keep you busy, as you never liked to dottle. 

“Thorin.” You approach the king who sits smoking his pipe. Thorin quirks an eyebrow up at your funny little mannerisms and sees a small, folded stack of (just washed, your friends are considerate of you.) clothes. “You have anything that needs mending?” The lilt of your tongue always surprised him, he doesn’t know why. There’s nothing too odd or off about the way that you speak, or the grammar that you use, and maybe it’s just because Thorin’s used to hearing the gruff sounds of words being pushed past bearded lips. That’s not to say that he is complaining, no, it’s far from that. Each time you spoke Thorin could feel himself being drawn towards you, and he just wanted to sit and listen to you talk. The feelings that Thorin feels aren’t absolutely unknown, just old and dusty from not having been used in many a year. You blink down at Thorin who only just notices that he’s being staring at your lips a little bit too long, with Dwalin trying to hide his laughter behind a gulp of water. 

“Ah, no. Thank you, (Y/N).” Thorin then busies himself with smoking his pipe, and looking at the grain of the wood which suddenly got very interesting. You purse your lips and look down at Thorin, but elect to say nothing to the slight quiver of his voice, and choose to turn to Dwalin. 

“Have anything for me, Dwalin?” Dwalin rests his hand on his back, and gives you a smile. 

“All good here, lassie.” You return his smile and move to a shaded spot under a little tree, leaving Thorin and Dwalin to talk. “So. Thorin.” Thorin takes in a deep breath and promptly sputters on the smoke. Dwalin snorts at watching his King and friend get flustered like a dwarfling over the kindest of the Company. 

“Leave it, Dwalin.” The sternness that Thorin was going for gets lost in translation as he chokes on another lungful of smoke, twice now. In one day. More in one day than in an entire year. Dwalin chuckles to himself but leaves the subject be. 

--

In the forest, the rest of the dwarves and Bilbo have successfully managed to fill several sacks with wild mushrooms of all assortments. Several times throughout the little field trip Bilbo was questioned about the different types of mushrooms, giving a variety of different lessons on the types of wild mushrooms (he thought that the dwarves would have known a bit more about forest living, but that’s quite alright.), and gave many reassurances that the mushrooms that they were going to eat would not in any way get them stone, killed, or in any other way affect their health. As the group not-so-stealthily makes their way back to camp, the air seems to lift and the thought of hunger is soon to be forgotten.  

--

The boisterous noise of the small group alerted the attention of you and the others at camp, and soon, you were up with everyone else to help distribute whatever findings they had. 

There was a long debate on how the mushrooms should be cooked - and if at all. The argument was that there would have to be a fire and that there would be no point in cooking them as it would only take up time, energy, and resources. On the other hand, the mushrooms should be cooked because it would be easier to digest and would bring out the flavor of the mushrooms, and that would be a pleasant change from the tasteless water soups and dried meats that everyone had grown accustomed to. Bilbo eventually settled the debate by saying that it would probably be best to eat them raw as while it was safe to ingest, the fumes would not be too safe to inhale. 

Each portion was dished out equally and the company sat and ate the mushrooms, thankful that they had something to fill their empty bellies, though something…..odd, started to happen. Only to you, apparently. About ten minutes after you finished your portion of mushrooms, all of the colors seemed...brighter? Your body adopts this new sense of freedom, like there’s helium being pumped through your veins and it’s lifting you off the ground. You feel the days, and the yesterdays, stresses melt off of you and you giggle. Just a little giggle. A few more minutes pass and the textures of the things around you start to shift and move, and for some reason, this sends you into a fit of side-peeling laughter, and in turn, this gets the attention of literally everyone in a forty mile vicinity. 

“What’s so funny lassie?” Bofur, your best friend through this whole thing, asks, eyebrow quirked and smile on his face. 

“I don’t even know! I-” Your face pales very quickly and you almost dry heave, clapping a hand over your mouth in an instant. The rest of the company, who was watching this entire ordeal, jumps to their feet at your sudden deterioration in health. Thorin is by your side in a flash, quickly pulling your hair out of your face as Bofur turns you so that you vomit into the grassy underbrush of the forest, gagging up the little meal that you had. All Thorin could do was gently rub your back and hold your hair while you topple forward, spinning where you sat. Thorin doesn’t know when Oin arrived, but he lets him take over and do his job, whilst he moves aside to watch. 

--

Oin had eventually declared that the mushrooms were the things that had this effect on you, but “not anyone else, which is as strange as it is fascinating!”, and it had been ruled that these mushrooms had a similar effect that one of his medicines had, and he had stated that while these mushrooms had no effect on anyone else, the makeup of the human body made it so it was more like a drug than a food, and that you had simply had too much and needed to let your system calm down and clear out, which would only take about twenty to thirty minutes for the initial high, and from there, he isn’t as sure. 

Fili, Kili, and Bilbo have tasked themselves with watching you and keeping you company. Bilbo does so because he feels at fault for this situation, even though he has been assured many a time that it was not his fault that you reacted differently. Fili and Kili stayed because the way you laugh at nothing is probably the most amusing thing they have seen in a long time. Bilbo eventually moved away, taking up the stitching that you were doing to make up for what had happened. 

You had been quiet for a few minutes, staring pensively off into the distance, eyes wide and full of an unknown knowledge, something that would probably be lost as soon as your high was gone. Fili and Kili continue to jest and joke, but stop abruptly when they here you sniffle. 

“Hey hey hey hey, (Y/N). What’s wrong?” Fili asks scooting a bit closer to you. Fili doesn’t know what he did or what set you off, but as soon as he said those words, fat hot tears burst and roll down your cheeks as you start to sob. Thorin, who was walking nearby, quickly walks over and stands above his nephews. 

"What did you do?" Fili and kili look panicked. 

"We didn't do anything!" Fili cries. "She just started to cry!" Kili is just as baffled as his brother, frozen and unsure as what should be done. Thorin sighs and crouches down next to you, gently taking your hands in his. 

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" You don't look at Thorin. "(Y/N)?" Thorin tries again by gently turning your chin with his thumb and forefinger. You blink up at him with big watery eyes and Thorin can only ignore the pang in his heart. "What's wrong?" You sniffle and more tears well up in your eyes. 

"It's not fair!" Thorin's voice is smooth and gentle, unlike anything Fili and Kili have ever heard before as they stand and move away from their uncle and friend. 

"What's not fair?" You almost start to wail, and Thorin moves a bit closer, his temple braids brushing your hands.

"You have SUCH pretty hair!” Thorin freezes but you continue. “And I can't touch it and I can't play with it and I can’t even say anything about it.." your voice breaks and your lip quivers. Thorin almost laughs but manages to keep himself composed. 

"Really? You think my hair is pretty?" You grip Thorin's hands in your own and lean forward.

"Very." Your expression is dead serious for only a minute before a wide smile spreads across your face and you laugh, letting your head drop into Thorin's shoulder. "I'm feeling' tired." Thorin doesn't even try to stop the smile from spreading across his face. 

"Then I guess you best be off to bed then, huh?" 

"I guess.." you hum into his coat, letting Thorin gently pull you off of him, but your already fast asleep in Thorin's arms, leaving a very happy Thorin, and a very confused company, behind.

--

Word count: 2,092

I hope you enjoyed reading! If you want to see something specific or see a certain pairing, feel free to make requests!

Love and best to all,

-ya gorl

[closetofanxiety]

Fight for the Fallen: Thoroughly OK-ish

I watched AEW’s third show on Saturday, and let me tell you: it was OK.

I think I’m just becoming impatient with waiting for the weekly show to start, so we can finally get a clear idea of what this company is going to look like. A string of exhibition-type shows threaded together by various YouTube series is not going to be the model; that’s every indie company on earth right now. This show did not really give any more hint about the eventual direction of AEW on TNT than either previous show, and to boot, had worse matches overall. The panic in some online quarters is unjustified; they’re still starting out, and in a much better position than any non-WWE wrestling company since the 1990s. Still, if this was my first exposure to AEW, I don’t know whether it would leave me eager for more.

The Good

* The pre-show was much better! It was short, it was mostly matches and video packages, and the cringe-inducing comedy was kept to a reasonable minimum. 

* The crowd seemed really into MJF, Sammy Guevara, Shawn Spears, Joey Janela, and, especially Darby Allin in their six-man tag match (for which Jimmy Havoc was also present). Darby Allin has gotten over more in two AEW shows than he did in two years with EVOLVE. This was basically a sampler plate of what these guys are capable of, but the crowd heat really indicates they could have future stars on their hands. 

* Speaking of future stars: holy cow are A Boy And His Dinosaur over. People were NUTS for Luchasaurus and Jungle Boy, ably assisted by Marko Stunt. Even if you know nothing about them, they’re an immediately compelling visual: a giant-dinosaur man, a feral jungle boy, and (as Spectacle of Excess noted) a Hobbit. I not only want to see them wrestle a bunch, I want to go on adventures with them. 

* Awesome Kong seems like she’s going to be a regular member of the roster, and they teased a Kong vs. Kong feud when Aja Kong came out to stare down Awesome. 

* Kenny Omega vs. CIMA was great. A state-of-the-art wrestling match from two vets who, incredibly, had not wrestled each other before.

* Excalibur continues to impress on commentary.

* Jericho’s promo was good stuff.

* The video packages are really well done. One of the problems that other would-be majors have had in competing with WWE is that they look second-rate and cheap in terms of production value. AEW does not have this problem: they are already at the WWE’s level in terms of set building, camera quality, and pretaped packages. This seems like a minor deal, but it’s important for casual fans and newbies; while you and I may crave the gritty haphazard nature of a small-town indie show headlined by someone named the Midnight Fatso, people who have not yet been totally infected by the wrestling bug are immediately put off by anything that screams “second-rate.” Making AEW look like a sports show or network reality show is a hugely important step for them. 

The Bad

* There were a couple of production screw-ups that really made the show feel like amateur hour: when the broadcast began running garbled closed-captioning during the women’s tag match, and then at the end of the show when Matt Jackson was doing his post-match promo and got shut down by a music cue like it was the Oscars and someone’s award acceptance speech was running too long.

* They should put someone in charge who does not wrestle matches. They’re too self-indulgent in terms of pacing and length when it comes to their own stuff. The Hangman Page vs. Kip Sabian match felt like it lasted for hours, and the main event tag team bout took way too long. It seemed like they decided to do an old school, Southern-style match as a riposte to critics who deride them as spot monkeys, but guess what: those critics are never going to be won over. And the people who like the Young Bucks for being the Young Bucks are unlikely to fall in love with a match where one heat segment on Matt featured the Rhodes boys working over his left arm for EIGHT MINUTES. You don’t want one of your VPs/top tier stars muttering “I guess we’re short on time” into a live microphone at the end of your show because his segment is being cut short by the production truck. Trim the fat from these matches.

* The women’s tag match was kind of messy, and since we know now that Britt Baker got a concussion midway through, we know the reason for some of that. But whoever agents these matches needs to do a better job communicating with the joshi workers; Riho and Shoko were throwing popcorn punches that visibly didn’t connect, something I noticed also during the joshi match at Fyter Fest. Are they being told to work lighter because Americans aren’t used to the stiff Japanese style? Whatever the case, it made the match look clumsy.

* Ideally in a three-person commentary booth, labor is divided this way: you have a staid play-by-play announcer keeping the action moving; you have a stats monger who provides insight and context; and you have a color commentator, usually an ex-jock, who provides pop and sizzle. Right now in AEW, Excalibur fills all three roles. Jim Ross just seems lost and ornery, while Alex Marvez occasionally chimes in with factoids that sound like he’s reading them off his phone (perhaps he is). 

* Is Brandi Rhodes a heel? Before her match with Allie, they showed an ESPN-style video package where she talked about impostor syndrome, about being afraid she can’t hang with the people on the roster who’ve been wrestling for long years, about her insecurities as a performer. This was very well done, and naturally built audience sympathy. She then came out for her match and brought Awesome Kong as muscle, and proceeded to wrestle in a cartoonishly heel fashion, event spitting water in Allie’s face like a member of Oedo Tai. After the match, Brandi and Kong beat Allie down until Aja came out to make the save. Now, a heel whose rulebreaking is fueled by self-doubt and insecurity is a good character, but that’s not how this came across. Just like with Cody, who’s a heel on Being the Elite and a face during live shows, the way this was handled just looked like they don’t know what to do with one of their marquee names. 

* I like the openly Memphis nature of the Dark Order, but they are dead in the water with the crowd. They were also the best wrestlers in their three-way match, but again, they got almost nothing from the audience, who doesn’t get (or doesn’t like) what their gimmick is supposed to be. There needs to be a course correction on these guys, because they’re very talented, but the current gimmick is not working. 

Miscellaneous

* I once went to a wedding in July in Jacksonville, and let me tell you: I understand why that crowd seemed quiet and deflated. Apparently this specific venue and design was Tony Khan’s dream, but running an outdoor show in North Florida in July, with post-sundown temperatures still at 85 degrees with mushroom-grade humidity, is perhaps not the best strategy.  A lively crowd can make an average wrestling show seem amazing, and a dead crowd can make a great wrestling show seem lackluster.  

* Having spent some time in Jacksonville, I am familiar with the flamboyant personal injury attorneys Farah & Farah, and was delighted to see not only that they were sponsors of this event, but that Eddie Farah himself was seated ringside, waving a cup of beer around and hollering. 

[galespider]

REALLY  LONG CHARACTER SURVEY - Gale Spider

REALLY  LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost, don’t reblog!  good luck!

TAGGED BY: @the-fallen-creation!!

TAGGING: Anyone who really wants to do this! I don’t want to force anyone who wants to but maybe @ksilberne, @wamoura, @avwalya, @kha-merc-ffxiv, @red-dawnbringer and others!!

This is really long and a bit complicated x _ x So with that, I will stick with doing my main character.

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Gale Spider

NICKNAME: None (Maybe Gaelicat??)

AGE: 24

BIRTHDAY: September 15th

ETHNIC GROUP: Miqo’te, Seeker of the Sun

NATIONALITY: Eorzean

LANGUAGE(S): Miqo’te tongue, Eorzean

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Straight

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: In a relationship

CLASS: Middle

HOMETOWN / AREA: A village located in the Sagolii Desert

CURRENT HOME: Gridania

PROFESSION: Adventurous healer/wiccan for hire

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Blue long straight hair that extends towards the lower back.

EYES: Red with slit pupils from Seeker of the Sun traits.

NOSE: Normal size

FACE: Heart shaped, kind of round.

LIPS: Smooth and full. Shines when in the light, only just a little.

COMPLEXION: Smooth, Pale, a little dry on the skin but mostly soft.

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: None

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT: 5′0″

WEIGHT: ??? Unknown

BUILD: Regular hourglass feature.

FEATURES: Slit pupils from Seeker of the Sun and fangs!

ALLERGIES: She might be allergic to dust mites.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Mostly prefers long hair, would occasionally go for short.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Simper smile to those who talk to her in a conversation. Looks innocent at first glance. Just don’t irritate her.

USUAL CLOTHING: Just any dresses that look really cute on her. She would mostly wear a red bindi from her mother and a spider lily hair accessory. Healing attire that also catches her eyes. She’s mostly broad on what she wears. In her casual moments, she would wear something that relates to “upper class” but maintains her casual side.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR(S): Loosing those closest to her. Irrational fears would be bugs. She also fears of being left alone.

ASPIRATION(S): To help those in need of healing and help with those injured either mentally or physically.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Semi-outgoing, always puts a smile to reassure that everything is alright. The one to start conversations.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Could get irritated easily, may have a sailor’s mouth if someone pushes her buttons. She could get impatient.

ZODIAC: Virgo

TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic

SOUL TYPE(S): Healer (Soul Crystal?? White Mage)

ANIMALS: Owl

VICE  HABIT(S): Staying and overworking overnight taking care of the injured

FAITH: The Twelve 

GHOSTS?: Yes

AFTERLIFE?: We will see

REINCARNATION?: Maybe??

ALIENS?: Yes

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: N.A

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Does not want to tell

SOCIO POLITICAL POSITION: N.A

EDUCATION LEVEL: College intelligence but doesn’t show it strongly. 

FAMILY

FATHER: Unknown, alive (Will figure out one day)

MOTHER: Unknown, alive (Will figure out one day)

SIBLINGS: Kira Setsuna

EXTENDED FAMILY: None. Although maybe three more older siblings.

NAME MEANING(S): Gale came from my favorite element, wind. Spider is based off of Spider from Megaman X: Command Mission.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: She has Wiccan blood running through her coming from her mother, who resided in Gridania. She may have Keeper of the Moon traits, but being born in the desert made her a Seeker of the Sun.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Any fiction ranging from witches, warlocks, romantic novels.

MOVIE: Rarely watches any.

5 SONGS: ... I am just gonna link it here http://galespider.tumblr.com/post/149340915708/character-name-music

DEITY: Oschon the Wanderer

HOLIDAY: Loooves Starlight festivities (Christmas)

MONTH: October

SEASON: Autumn

PLACE: Zenith, Gridania, The Peaks

WEATHER: Breezy and calm bright weather

SOUND: Birds chirping early in the morning

SCENT(S): Herbs of all kind, the smell of orchids

TASTE(S): Minty, warm tea

FEEL(S): Soft wool fabric, soft fluffy things

ANIMAL(S): Owls, Small birds

NUMBER: 6

COLORS: Red and Blue. Sometimes Green

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Would like to dance one day, good decent measure of voice for singing

BAD AT: Looking out for herself. Keeping to herself, over-helping others to the point that others might be annoyed.

TURN ONS: Would rather not say ;)

TURN OFFS: No thank you.

HOBBIES: Reading, making herbal remedies, doodle, 

TROPES:  Off-into-the-Distance Ending, World of Symbolism, Girl Friday

AESTHETIC TAGS: Dress, fabric, wool, herbs, cabin, candles, fun witch, wiccan, healer, crystals, stones, mushrooms, fantasy critters, spider lilies, autumn, flowers, potions, forest, sunrise

GPOY  QUOTES: (... What?)

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC(S): Herself

ALT FC(S): N/A

OLDER FC(S): Here

YOUNGER  FC(S): N/A (I should have drawn more of her little)

VOICE CLAIM(S): Christina Vee,  Kaori Mizuhashi

GENDERBENT FC(S): Here c: 

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?:

Anything that involves Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit. Something that makes Gale travel to different places with conflicts, drama, funny moments, and the likes with her friends and her brother.

Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE?:

I am really lazy. But just look at the 5 songs mentioned. x_X Above ^^^

Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?:

She along with my other characters are from FFXIV. And somehow, FFXIV gave me that amount of ideas to write or think about their backgrounds and how they meet people.

Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

The way I created them in character creation in FFXIV. But Krowell Au Ra was literally ripped off from Ayanami from 07 Ghost.

Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE:

I can’t really say I would hate them. 

Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?:

A lot, actually. She and I mostly or practically share the same personality.

Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?:

She would definitely be disappointed if she sees me procrastinate in life.  But at the same time, she would probably understand that life takes just one step at a time no matter how hectic it may be.

Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?

She has interesting interactions with my other characters. http://galespider.tumblr.com/post/177796279983/my-final-fantasy-xiv-characters-gale-spider-from

If it was Gaoithe Sagittus, she would tease him and love him since they are both in a relationship with each other. Krowell, would be sort of difficult since they would both not see eye to eye. But Gale is willingly able to open conversations with him as time goes on, and they finally and slowly get along. Raksha, was extremely difficult since he was a PoW. Due to his unstable mind by being used as a weapon, he acts almost innocent, childish but scared around people who approach him. Gale is able to break his barrier by taking care of him and is able to talk to him, although not with difficult speech.

Q9: WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?:

FFXIV!! That’s all I have to say!!

Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?:

Quite a while ... But it was really fun to do at the same time! Sorry for my short answers!

[tanoraqui]

Oh hell, I’m stuck on my main nano thing. Let’s just…remember this? Okay, continuing in that style; warning: you won’t get that much out of this if you haven’t both read LotR (or at least watched it) AND watched Critical Role.

So, our story begins on Wilhand Trickfoot’s eleventy-first birthday, which happens to be his neice Pike’s thirty-third, and thus coming-of-age. To the excitement of all of the Shire who are invited, and all those who aren’t but will show up anyway (that is, the rest) there is to be a party of “special magnificence”…

The camera may pan first, however, to a simple cart trundling up the rode to Hobbiton. The cart is simple, but the man who drives it is not: skin naturally dark with tan, hair darker yet, woven with beads of gold, and purple robes worthy of a king—if, perhaps, a little worn with travel. And the contents of the cart! Simple brown boxes, yes, but the clever hobbit children already growing in a crowd, trailing behind, know what they hide. For they recognize the mark: a runic G.

“G for Gigantic!” they whisper not-so-quietly. “G for Grand!”

“I prefer ‘Glorious’” the man calls over his shoulder, or so he seems.

“What you are,” says another hobbit, “is late.” [the movies were very good, okay.]

She stands in a tree by a bend in the road, dark hair streaked with blue, hands on her hips, a little older than those trailing behind the cart. Just on the cusp of adulthood. It is, in fact, her birthday.

“A wizard is never late, Pike Trickfoot,” the glorious driver of the cart says sternly. But he cannot hide the laughter in his eyes. “Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

Pike Trickfoot does not bother to hide the laughter. She leaps as it bubbles out, without a care that she might miss the headboard and hit the fireworks instead. She does not, of course.

“Gilmore! It is good to see you again. Wilhand’s been worrying you wouldn’t make it.”

The Party happens. There are wonderful fireworks, including a raging white dragon. There is dancing, and singing—in no small part from Pike’s friend and companion Mr. Scanlan Shorthalt, just a few years older than she. Deft of finger and defter of wit, Scanlan was regarded as a bit of a rogue among the more proper Shirefolk, but always popular among the “wild” youth. And all agreed he could play the shawm as fine as you please, and a dab hand at lute and panpipes to boot. (For all that, Pike is ever-immune to his attempts to woo her, halfway earnest though they are.)

Wilhand gives a brilliant speech, and disappeared. He and Gilmore discussed old adventures, and older treasures. Pike gave chase, s far as Bag End, and inherited a ring. And, you know, Bag End. All of it. It was quite a lot. Really, what’s a single piece of jewelry to an entire household?

(Lol.)

Ought I start the story again, some seventeen years later? When Pike has lived on in Bag End, in Hobbiton, with its rolling his and gentle wind nd sun; its happy, homely folk and their busy farms, rivaled only by their busy gossip…

The latest, I hear, is that Miss Sybil Cotton is with child, and will not tell whom the father is. Some wonder if she even knows. Others, who could be worth protecting. Hobbits, though overall kind, do love a good gossip.

Let’s skip some of the boring bits, shall we? Gilmore reappearing in the dead of night, slamming the doors and flinging Pike’s ring into the fire. Dark words in gold, twisted and burning. A danger. A doom. A plan.

So: preparation. Pike hints that Wilhand’s dragon gold is finally running out, and sells Bag End—dear Bag End, dear childhood home—to her cousin JB Trickfoot, who is by far the least troublesome of her less favorable relations. A timid lass, but not unkind, nor full of avarice (beyond, perhaps, for books, and a healthy, hobbitly affection for mushrooms.)

Scanlan accompanies her as far as her “new” home of Crickhollow, but here’s the thing: Scanlan is a bit of a rogue. At least, he is chronically curious, and nearly as clever as that, and always loves great tales and very rarely took no for an answer. So, that night Gilmore told Pike the legend of the One Ring? He my have been…listening. At the window. And the book Wilhand had been working on for years, the true story of his travels, which he never let anyone but Pike read? Scanlan may have…read that. Just a little. Just a glimpse! (He had to jump back out the window when he heard footsteps coming.)

Also, he does know Pike, and it is clear that she is not just preparing to move houses. She is too sad. And Pike does not get sad like a simple hobbit, with a good cry and some beer. She gets sad like an elf, wandering the hills and growing distant, almost ethereal when the light hits her just right. There has always been something odd about Pike Trickfoot.

Scanlan thinks of many things, as he lets his best friend lie to him (for a time.) He thinks of how he has always dreamed of being part of a story: a real one, an important one, far grander than the little tales and jokes he tells in the taverns each night. He thinks of how Pike, whom he does love, is going into danger surely too great for any lone hobbit, and that he would fain even the odds, however slightly. And he thinks, with some guilt, how he, Scanlan Shorthalt, is really very nervous of being in Hobbiton, or even the Shire at large, in…oh, nine months time. Eight, maybe. The longer the stay away, the safer, probably.

Eventually…

“I’m not staying here, Scanlan,” Pike says quietly. There is an urge to fidget with the ring on the chain round her neck, but she knows that is a bad idea, so she twists her fingers together instead. “I know I made a big to-do about moving here, but the truth is…”

“You’re going to Rivendell,” says Scanlan, and lifts a laden pack from among the luggage they’ve dumped on the floor. “Don’t worry, so am I.”

(Already they have hidden on the road from Black Riders, who left a chill in the air as they passed. But still Scanlan grins, if only because Pike looks like he has hit her with a croquet mallet.)

In the Forest, they are nearly buried alive by a curmudgeonly old willow, and get saved by a bizarre man who calls himself Matt Mercer, wears yellow galoshes and speaks only in song. His wife is the daughter of a ray of sunlight, with hair like flickering flames, and when he puts on the Ring he smiles and does not disappear. [Confession: when convincing people to read Lord of the Rings, I often give them permission to skip the Tom Bombadil chapters. Amazing worldbuilding, Tom and the barrow-wrights alike, but SO useless to the plot.]

Here is more sensical worldbuilding: he town of Bree is the only one in all Middle-Earth, so far as the writer(s) of this tale know, where hobbits and big men live side-by-side, with only as much strife as most neighbors have. The inn is bustling, and well-ready for folk of both sizes. Pike and Scanlan welcome the warm beds, and warmer company, as it was another dark, terrifying race to the ford. All nine Rides in pursuit, their voices fell, their dark hooves pounding and dark hands reaching, calling—something in Pike’s throat, or at least around it, calling back—

Now, the hobbits drink in peace, in the warmth of a fire and a crowded, happy inn. But a stranger sits in a dark corner, and Pike cannot help but glance their way from time to time.

“Oh, that’s a Ranger,” says the innkeeper, Laina, when Pike flags her down to ask (and for another mug of ale.) “Minxie, that one goes by. She’s alright.”

“’Alright’?” asks Pike.

“Well, they mostly keep to themselves, Rangers,” says Laina. “Strange folk. One time…”

Pike loses track of the innkeep’s anecdote, because Scanlan has clambered onto a table and begun to play songs many minutes ago. That is fine—they are trying to be incognito, but even the dark forces of the world could not stop Scanlan from preforming for an audience, and Pike loves him for it. What was not fine is that now he has started to tell tales, which mostly meant gossip—and that, with the event so recent, meant Wilhand’s mysterious disappearance at his own birthday party.

“Excuse me,” says Pike, and dashes over to vault onto the table beside him. She pitches her voice to carry. “Good folk of the Greyskull Keep! I must thank you for your hospitality! Rest assured, when I finish my book, Bree will be well-accounted for as a town most welcoming, and most bestowed—and bestowing!—with great food, and ale, and company!”

She raises her mug, toasting the now-cheering crowd.

“That said, I think it might be time my companion and I retired for night, for tomorrow will be another busy day of—”

Maybe someone jostles the table. Maybe a crowd of tipsy, sloppy cheers left too much ale for to slip on. Maybe Pike has had a mug too many herself, and has lost her usual balance.

Maybe darker forces conspire. As she falls, Pike’s hand goes to her pocket, and as she hits the floor (really a very little fall) her finger slips just so, and the world fills with fog. Voices and shapes all muffled, though they are all exclaiming.

Pike crawls frantically out of the crowd, to the nearest corner and secure table under which to hide, and yanks the Ring off her finger.

No sooner has she stowed it once more beneath her shirt, than a big man’s hand grabs her by the scruff of her shirt and yanks her up. A big woman’s actually—Pike finds herself staring up, in mute terror, at the mysterious Ranger. Her face is still in shadow, but Pike can see sharp eyes, and a sword at her belt.

“You are foolish, and not safe here even if you were wise,” says Minxie. “I will meet you in your room, and we will talk.”

[earlgreytea68]

Iceland, Day 3, Friday, August 14, 2015

The next day we were supposed to go to the glacial lagoon. A combination of weather concerns and states of exhaustion caused us to decide to do the “easier” Golden Circle day instead. We put Geysir in our GPS and headed off.

Our plan had been to go to this highly recommended coffee shop for breakfast. But it turned out that it didn’t open until 11. Because no one in Iceland apparently wants coffee until 11. Because our second choice also didn’t open until 11. Not that I wanted coffee but I did want breakfast. Luckily, I had eaten my donut, so I was okay. L asked if we were up to going to some valley before going to Geysir. We all said fine, so we tried to add a via point to the GPS (this was always tricky, since few things in Iceland have addresses and the GPS didn’t have Icelandic letters). The scenery as we drove was spectacular. In some ways, Iceland strikes me as an opposite-world version of Hawaii. Like, if it wasn’t freezing cold, the ocean crashing against a hilly landscape, the prevalence of waterfalls, the black sand beaches could all be in Hawaii. Where Iceland differs from Hawaii, of course, is in the fact that is is cold, so those mountains in the distance, sharp and jagged, are coated with snow that only partially smooths them out. Iceland is full of a plethora of different landscapes. That day, as we drove through rain, the glinting mountain in the distance was wreathed in impossible sunshine. You could imagine living in a fantasy landscape where it rained constantly and the people gazed longingly at the mountain peak of elusive sunlight. We kept driving, and the roads shifted from paved to unpaved and back again. At one point, driving in a construction zone, I became alarmed that maybe the road would be gravel for the next 80 miles for all we knew. It was an unpleasant enough road that we were confused about whether it was still open to cars or we would encounter a paving machine halfway along. It was bad enough that an American road in such a state would definitely have been closed. Encountering a construction worker, I asked if we were allowed to drive on the road. He looked bewildered that I was confused about this. “Yes,” he answered. “How long is it unpaved?” I asked. “What?” he said, clearly not understanding my question. “How long is the road like this?” I clarified. “Not long,” he assured me. After I drove away, it occurred to all of us that I had asked the wrong question, because Icelanders considered the road we were on to be paved. I should have asked how long it was untarred. Eventually we came to a scenic lookout (“Look,” I said, “it’s the scenic lookout symbol!”). Of course, because this is Iceland, the scenic lookout involved an unmarked hike up a steep hill. And also of course, once you got up there, the wind almost knocked you back down. But the view from the top was very beautiful.

We kept driving, looking for the valley. The scenery was, as always, striking, a bumpy plain that reminded me of the air bubble left behind when you try to put a new screen on your phone. Mostly we saw no people or signs of people—Iceland is the kind of place where everyone else on Earth could disappear and it would take you a little while to notice. Eventually we randomly came around some fluttering flags marking the start of a long driveway leading to a little constellation of buildings, which was honestly creepier than all the emptiness had been, since it was in the middle of nowhere. I was too busy freaking out about that to notice the Hobbit houses that everyone else saw. Around this point, the GPS tried to tell me to get on some road that had all these signs that only Serious Vehicles should drive upon it. So we vetoed the GPS and looped back down to the Hobbit houses everyone had seen. They turned out to be houses built into the hillside, with sod roofs, in a replica of a development that had been there and destroyed by a volcano in the 1100s. It was really interesting to how they lived. It was an odd combination of high ceilings to reach light and get cooking smoke out, I suppose, and really low, narrow passageways between the spaces. I found most interesting that the settlement had been segregated by gender (patriarchy! Already!) and that Icelanders had basically had no fruits and vegetables in their diets until well into the 19th century. oe

With that side trip out of the way, we started to head back toward Geysir, getting us back on the GPS route. We stopped for gas, where there were multiple weird shenanigans about having to pay via gift card because of our foolish American credit cards. While N and I figured that out, S bought me this delicious coconut ice cream bar thing.

As we drove back on the GPS track, we came to a map being guarded by creepy wooden carvings shrouded in real furs (which, frankly, were disgusting from being out in the elements). We naturally had to stop the car to investigate this, and a perusal of the map revealed several intriguing things, including something called the Secret Lagoon. How do you not go see something called the Secret Lagoon?

So we diverted from the GPS to go seek the Secret Lagoon. It turned out to be something like the Blue Lagoon, only on a smaller scale (I guess that was what made it “secret”). The guy working there let us walk around the perimeter, which led to us discovering that the lagoon contained its own small geyser, and somehow that led to some analogy between geysers and male sexual performance, and how to see a really good geyser you need to be the geyser’s OTP, because a geyser will always perform in a satisfying manner for its OTP. I blame the Penis Museum for that whole thing. Back in the car, we were all now hungry, so a decision was made to go to the coffee shop we’d originally planned to go to in the morning, hours earlier, because now it was actually open. How did we end up back there? I was confused, too, so L and N and S all made me a map to explain. (It didn’t work.) The coffee shop was nestled in a little development of houses, but naturally still remote enough that the road was unpaved and people were galloping along it on horseback. The coffee shop was also a pottery studio, and the bigger side of it house what was clearly pottery-making equipment, but I didn’t see any pottery for sale.

The coffee shop had come recommended like crazy, but it was much smaller than we’d expected, with only four things on the menu. Luckily, one of those things was Icelandic pancakes, which are slightly heavier crepes rolled with granulated sugar. Really delicious. I also had Icelandic tea. It wasn’t bad but the most accurate way to describe it is to tell you that it tasted like a combination of moss and lichen. L concurred.

Coffee shop outing completed, we got back on the road for Geysir, but then I saw a sign for Gullfoss, so we went there instead. I had been to Gullfoss before, because it’s one of the top four things they tell tourists to do in Iceland. I remembered Gullfoss as being so surrounded by RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM that I felt like I could barely make my way back to our car (and, once to the car, we literally could not physically open the door against the RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM). This time, there was still RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM, but, instead of being surrounded by treacherous ice, it was now surrounded by greenery, including some flower that reminded me of cotton in bloom (and, when I went down to investigate further, I slipped and pulled a muscle in my leg, and this is why I avoid “nature”). Anyway, Gullfoss is gorgeous and utterly impressive and not to be missed if you come to Iceland. Also, apparently it was preserved by a woman of medium height who had been considered reasonably attractive. Because that’s a totally appropriate thing to put on someone’s commemorative historical plaque. Patriarchy!

After Gullfoss, we finally got to Geysir, only, like, six hours after we’d set out for it that morning. I don’t remember much about my first trip to Geysir except it was cold. It was still cold. We walked up to Strokkur, which is the geyser that’s still functioning because the original Geysir geyser has died (and let’s not talk about the name Strokkur for a geyser in the context of our geyser OTP discussion). L and S and N were all taking pictures. I had decided to leave the picture-taking to them to focus on my truly impressive talent for panoramas, so I got what seemed like a good idea in my head. There were signs all over the place warning us not to touch the water because it was basically boiling. I decided to walk over to where the wind was blowing the hot steam, so I could warm up. This worked well—until Strokkur erupted. Looking up as the water rose over my head, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. I uttered a little cry and tried to retreat. But it was too late. I found myself drenched in…freezing cold water. Like, what the hell? I hadn’t wanted to be burned but freezing cold? Everyone told me that it was because the water cools as soon as it hits the air but now I’m convinced the hot springs are all a hoax. Drenching me once in cold water wasn’t enough. Strokkur had a special bonus eruption just for me. S said it’s because I’m Strokkur’s OTP and probably the fact that I was drenched meant I was pregnant with Strokkur’s baby. Or Strokkur was pregnant. Mpreg seemed more likely to us. 

After Strokkur’s eruption, L went running up a nearby hill, because periodically he just does that, and S and N and I wandered over to the pit of Hell. I mean, I guess it was technically something else, but it was a hold in the ground shrouded in eerie smoke, so it’s equally likely it was just the pit of Hell. Really, no wonder Icelanders believe in things like Hidden Folk, given the landscape they’re living in. I feel like their landscape is still inexplicable to me, even in the modern era. At Geysir, we decided to stop for another snack. All of us decided on mushroom soup, which we thought was basically the most delicious thing we’d ever tasted. And then we realized it was probably good but also we hadn’t really eaten anything all day. After Geysir, we continued on to þingvellir, distracted along the way by the most fabulously vivid rainbow I’d ever seen. We saw frequent rainbows in Iceland but this one was amazing. You could see the whole of its perfect arc, where each end met the Earth.

I’d remembered þingvellir as being my least favorite of the Golden Circle attractions, and it still was, but they’d made lots of improvements to it, I think. They’re in the middle of building a walkway to provide access to even more of it. The signs were weird, though. When you spoke in front of them, they echoed your voice back to you. (And, despite what L thinks, the þingvellir symbol is not the scenic lookout symbol.)

After þingvellir, we decided to drive into Reykjavik for dinner.  After I negotiated seven million rotaries, we arrived in Reykjavik and sat down to dinner at a hamburger place. At, like, 10:00 at night. Because it was still light enough the street lights weren’t on yet. And we had no sense of time in Iceland. The hamburger place was really good. We shared nachos and jalapeno poppers and sliders, and I really only liked the nachos part of that meal but the nachos were quality. We’d gone to that restaurant because the licorice milkshakes were supposed to be amazing. I don’t like licorice but everyone else was crazy for this milkshake so it must have been good. I had a “muffin” (read: cupcake) crafted out of fondant to resemble a hamburger, and we also split astronaut’s cake, which was some cake with caramel. Also delicious.

We’d had hot dogs the day before and N really wanted another one so I dropped her off to get one while I circled the block. And then L, who was absolutely trashed off one glass of wine, offered to go buy me a bottle—I hadn’t drunk because I was driving—and darted out into the Icelandic night. “We will never see him again,” S remarked. “This was clearly my evil plan,” I agreed. But, when I circled the block, both N and L were there waiting, so all’s well that ends well. Except L didn’t have a bottle of wine because you can’t buy wine after a certain time in Reykjavik. So I guess all didn’t end entirely well. Eventually we got home. Which, let me tell you, it was one of Iceland’s rare August hours of full darkness, and that driveway was super-fun to navigate in the dark. L and I decided to go in the hot tub again but I couldn’t figure out how to run the jets properly and long story short we were in there for an hour again oops. We tried to look for shooting stars but again, both too cloudy and too light.

[mirikalj]

Mirian Barefoot is a halfling cleric who just wants to see the world at peace for as far as this is possible (as of course world peace in general is not possible). The image below portrays her perfectly, drawn by trollskine.

Her appearance is as described:

Pointy ears (in reference to Lord of the Rings hobbits)

Brown hair that has wavy/curly ends

Brown eyes

Bright clothes

Wears a ring around her neck (holy symbol)

Is probably smiling

Always barefoot

And of course some raw D&D facts before anything else:

Her alignment is lawful good, although lawful is a bit of a gray area in a world where magic is frowned upon

Her chosen background is hermit, because she spends most of her time travelling and sharing her ‘gift’ (healing magic)

She is a knowledge cleric and her favourite knowledge is languages

She’s a lightfoot halfling and every time again I forget how the naturally stealthy trait works

She prays to ‘Ysyn, goddess of healing, magic and light’ and her prayers are often in dwarvish

Mirian has spent a fair amount of time of her youth with her parents and mostly the direct family of her dwarf father, who raised her a cleric as it runs down the family of her dwarf side. As she gained abilities in healing magic, she one day decided to leave her family behind. She wanted to share these abilities with those who need it more, for no one deserves to be in pain.

She has been traveling by herself for a long time, which has made her prone to loneliness, but despite all that she beams of optimism. She always believes the best in people, which could be considered a flaw (and sometimes a massive one), and treats others the way she would like to be treated. It is her motto.

Mirian will always avoid picking a fight. If it can be solved with words or different types of action, she will. It's not that she is not strong enough to fight others, she just never deems it necessary, and it only causes chaos. If she ends up in a situation where someone else picks the fight, she will use non-lethal magic, proving them that she is strong enough to handle them, but not finishing them off. There is no need to take a life (mercy kills are a gray area). She is likely to then heal their wounds and speak with them, of course starting off with why they decided to attack her as she never opposes a threat; she truly means no harm, she just wants to aid others.

That sums up what she has been doing. She learnt the ways of healing magic, and travels the world to share this gift, and she picked up ways to heal without magic as well (medicine), as she is currently in a place where magic is frowned upon.

Other things she enjoys doing is, as silly as it is, flower-picking. She enjoys making new flower crowns to distract herself, especially when she is having a period of loneliness. She enjoys shopping when she has some coin, even though she is not necessarily materialistic, she does enjoy trying on a new dress, always picking the brightest colours she can find. She believes that the littlest things should be enjoyed, and if a fresh flower crown and a new dress bring this joy, so be it. She also, like any halfling, enjoys a good meal... or two. In any village that contains a library, you can possibly find her there, as she loves learning new things. Her favourite thing to do is learn new languages, but these take a lot of time, so she hasn't made a lot of progression in this yet. She indulges on arcana knowledge as well as overall history, as these are very interesting subjects. If time allows her to spend it on her hobbies, she definitely will, as she cannot aid people throughout the entire day. She recognizes that relaxation is important as well.

During Mirian's current adventure, she luckily does not have to feel all that lonely, as she has found a party to travel with, although they met due to unfortunate circumstances.

Iur is a world where magic is frowned upon, and although Mirian always tries to cover her healing magic by pretending she is applying medicine, she got caught. She was thrown into a coliseum where criminals of all kinds are forced to fight robot-like enemies. She bonded with three other allies as they got thrown in there together, and as they won their fights and escaped their way out, she only continued onward with a goblin, who did prove not goblins are all bad, but she is still judgmental on his morals. They eventually met a strange creature who is unaware of their own race (dragonborn), but as Mirian and the goblin were forced upon a specific quest by a force stronger than them, the dragonborn had no problems with tagging along.

The whole team does struggle with Mirian's morals and her belief that everyone is capable of good (believing the best in people), but so does Mirian with their lack of morals. She is still mostly struggling with the goblin, especially after having seen him do some cruel things, but she continues to tag along because she got attached to the bunch and does not want them to meet a fatal situation. Heck, maybe she can teach them better morals, who knows. She recognizes it is better than traveling alone as the world proves more dangerous than it used to be.

So far their travels are going well, they have met some interesting people, have seen some nearly fatal situations, but they are still roaming around, but some events have influenced Mirian greatly.

Not long after the three started traveling, Mirian received a curse. She still does not know how exactly she gained it, but it happened. She has had visions and learnt from several sources about it; this curse was likely to turn her into an aarakocra. She noticed that this curse did improve her sight, but as the taste of food was not as strong as it was before, that did not make up for that loss. She has spent a fair amount of time looking into how to get rid of this curse, but it also gave her the advantage that if heretic hunters sensed her magic, she could use her curse to get away with it (despite hating having to lie). When she got strong enough, in the middle of a storm, she decided to try something new. She clenched her holy symbol and prayed hard trying to remove the curse, and she had been successful. In fact, it changed her in a different way; she gained new abilities that night. She has no idea how the removal of her curse unlocked new abilities and simply assumes that Ysyn has an eye out for her.

An event that also worried her, was that someone had nearly been able to take her magic from her. For a moment she felt herself losing her connection to her faith, and it felt horrible. She ended up having to lie out of this situation as well. She truly does not wish to be deceptive, but if people continue to have such a problem with magic even if it is used for good, what can she do? She did escape the situation, but it is not something Mirian will forget.

There has been a most recent event that has even dented her optimism. At the start of her travels with the goblin and dragonborn, they got invested in searching for a missing cat. This was not a regular cat, mind you. It was much larger, changed colour over time, and continued to grow. Although they did fear it may be eating humans at this point, they continued this search until they were forced to continue a different path. Once they returned to the city a long while later, after gaining two new companions (a dwarf and an aarakocra), they decided to visit the lady whose cat was missing. The cat was there, the lady was there, and so were... corpses. It had turned out that by now they became undead, and as Mirian had used her ability to comprehend languages before, she was able to pick up the cat's deep speech language. The cat was trying to tell her what was wrong for as far as the cat was capable and warned us to leave, but Mirian's party decided the threat is too great and opened attack. As Mirian used her powers to possibly remove what is causing the cat to be in this state during the combat, the others finished it off before any changes could be recognized. Mirian was powerless in a situation where her allies are set on one thing without giving her the chance to fix it in a non lethal manner. The moment the cat died, Mirian was filled with dread and sadness. She felt like she could do something and was slowly succeeding, but it was too late. Her allies rather murder a creature that had clearly been affected by something out of its control, as she was told earlier that the cat cannot help it.

To make things worse, that same day the dragonborn impulse-attacked a poor old man selling apples, and Mirian did everything in her power to keep him alive (and was successful).

She did decide to pull through and stick to the group, but she feels herself growing a little more distant from the others, and this feeling continues to grow more and more since the latest additions to the group. They have no respect for her wish not to murder everything that ‘looks’ bad or evil, leaving no space for redemption or second chances. She is sure people have been killed due to complete misunderstandings, and that bothers her the greatest.

Something I have been thinking about is whether Mirian is still Lawful Good. I feel like she might slip into Neutral Good or Lawful Neutral because of her negative emotions towards one party member and is starting to desire being a bit vengeful towards them - in her own relatively harmless way, still. However, I would need a serious talk on how alignments work before I make such a decision.

Because Mirian loves clothes and browsing for new clothes, this bit is for that.

Mirian loves bright colours very much and her taste in clothing can be referred to as what Lord of the Rings hobbits would wear (look at Rosie for example).

She also scrambled some things together during her adventures, such as flower crowns and even a mushroom cap.

She is currently wearing a gorgeous blue dress (I rolled a natural 20 on searching for clothes) with lace gloves. With that she assembled a flower crown of blue roses, making the perfect outfit. Tumblr user erikakkomi has drawn this outfit, and therefore created a new reference:

She also has a mushroom cap of colour  #1bb87d (the DM rolled for it). It is a giant mushroom cap that she can wear as a hat. It’s very cute, but she does not have the appropriate dress for it yet, so March Rabbit has drawn her in her original outfit with fitting colours to make it work, and it makes sense since she learnt a spell to change the colour of her clothes for 30 minutes (she reads a lot of books).

As accessory she has an ivory flower. This can be put in her hair or in a pocket. It used to have an important function, but now it’s just a flavour accessory.

Button commission, she’s the left one:

And more

These are old sketches before I had all these commissions done, just so that you know what I was aiming for:

Two fun facts to end this post:

She’s a “Maze Master” for a bunch of random blokes who were playing “Mazes&Monsters” (yes, this is D&D inception, it was the weirdest RP I’ve ever done), and she is happy to tell children her improvised story named ‘LiBelle en de Orc’ (Dragonfly and the Orc, but in Dutch it was a play on Beauty and the Beast), which are just some fun flavour things to Mirian

Her surname, Barefoot, secretly refers to my hobbit in Lord of the Rings Online (also on this blog), and my headcanon is that if they were in the same universe, they would be family.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

Man eats all the food in 'Lord of the Rings' in tribute to his late father

Second breakfast. Elevenses. Luncheon. Afternoon tea. Dinner. Supper.

It was all consumed by one dedicated Lord of the Rings fan, who created a themed 14-course menu that mirrors the food eaten by characters in Peter Jackson's epic film trilogy — and it was all for a very important reason.

SEE ALSO: Harry Potter-themed cruise is something you definitely want to go on, stat

UK writer Nate Crowley commemorated one year since his father passed away with a back-to-back marathon of all three films from The Lord of the Rings — paired with a 14-course menu reflecting exactly what was eaten on screen.

So at 6am, @Glitter_brawl & I are going to start a back to back marathon of the 3 LOTR films (long versions), and I've prepared a 14 course 'meal' to reflect what gets eaten on screen. Dad died a year ago, and this seemed by far the most reasonable way to commemorate that.

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Teaming up with a friend for the marathon, Crowley posted images of every course, interpretations of everything from Elven "lembas bread" to Denethor's "grim dinner." Here's the menu, and LOTR fans, prepare to be seriously impressed (and probably use this a guide for your next marathon.)

Here's the menu, which is based entirely of my rough memory of the key eating scenes in LOTR. Feel free to follow along if you like. LET'S GO pic.twitter.com/IDAbJtdy9V

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

We just saw a hobbit scarf a cake onscreen, so it's time to begin breakfast pic.twitter.com/ymffGcCKYQ

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Oh no, the hobbits have wheeled out yet more bloody cake, we've had to break out a second slice

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Crowley even picked out director Peter Jackson's cameo, when he snacks on a carrot as a villager of Bree.

Bacon and mushrooms are on. Just saw peter jackson eating a raw carrot onscreen so better have these pic.twitter.com/VRNoEPnnas

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

What about second breakfast? Nailed it. pic.twitter.com/GEuWDMPwYH

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Just enjoyed some bacon, field mushroom and thyme-roasted tomato, while the poor hobbits got interrupted from their breakfast by a tense session of Nazgul & Chill pic.twitter.com/isVHP4v9S8

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Arwen drowning the bad ghosts with horses just reminded us to have a drink of water. Stay hydrated kids!

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Heading out of Lothlorien now, so it's time for some Lembas bread (jacob's butter puffs) with some pesto hummus and grapes because elves I guess pic.twitter.com/akFME1Sxkm

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Of course, Crowley heralded scene in which Uruk-hai make a meal out of a disobedient Orc.

L O O K S L I K E M E A T ' S B A C K O N T H E M E N U B O Y S pic.twitter.com/fFWUj8wvUe

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

It keeps going, with nods to the salted pork from the Isengard stores, Denethor's epic feast, and Crowley includes some truly heartwarming personal tributes to his dad.

Salt pork with preserved vegetables and rye bread, courtesy of Isengard Kingdom Brunel's storehouse. Gimli bangs on about this one a lot. pic.twitter.com/PcM4e5y4qJ

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

OK Denethor, let's do this pic.twitter.com/y9ALunDpu5

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Celebrating the majesty of Grond, Wolf-headed Hammer of the Underworld, with a 30 year old sherry I found in dad's wine rack. I think it's what both dad, and Grond, would have wanted. (@Glitter_brawl is having some more chocolate milk). pic.twitter.com/JfEbxtDaSs

— Regular Frog (@FrogCroakley) February 18, 2018

Honestly, this kind of attention to detail is where large-scale, immersive, multi-sensory pop culture events get started. 

But of course, it was more than just a fun thing to do, and Crowley's followers shared their appreciation for his commemorative event.

This is absolutely fantastic. My Dad died two years ago and LOTR marathons were our favorite thing. He’d love this. I now binge the trilogy every Father’s day, and this year I’m definitely adding in the menu. Sincere thanks for the idea!

— emily (@lonely_tourist) February 18, 2018

cant approve of this enough. perfect way to do it, and comedy aside, the perfect metaphor. with @Glitter_brawl as your Samwise, you don't have to bear the burden alone. I lost my sister just over 6 years ago, and in the years since, similar events with friends have always helped

— Braxifen (@Braxifen) February 18, 2018

WATCH: This woman is cooking with her mouth and the internet isn't having it