reread liveblog

tfc is such a special book tho like normally it would take a few chapters to completely fall in love w the main character but w neil josten ur in the second sentence and suddenly ur holding adoption papers and u have no idea that in a few hours ur gonna be tryna make ur way as a single parent of 9 broken misfits in a cruel world of ravens imaginary sports and the japanese mafia like wow thats Special

  • Alec: You never called me back. I called you so many times and you never called me back.
  • Magnus: Your city is under attack. The wards have broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven’t called you?”
  • Alec: I want to know why you haven’t called me back.
  • Magnus: You’re an idiot.
  • Alec: Is that why you didn’t call me? Because I’m an idiot?
  • Magnus: No. I didn’t call you because I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I’m tired of watching you be in love with someone else—someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.
  • Alec: You love me?
  • Magnus: You stupid Nephilim. Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!
  • Alec: I hadn’t looked at it that way,
  • Magnus: Of course not. You never looked at it in any way. I’m seven hundred years old, Alexander. I know when something isn’t going to work. You won’t even admit I exist to your parents.
  • Alec: I thought you were three hundred! You’re seven hundred years old?
  • Magnus: Well, eight hundred. But I don’t look it. Anyway, you’re missing the point.
assorted tdt notes, part 1

trb notes | tdt pt 2

i’m back with random notes of things that appealed specifically to me in the dream thieves! i’m writing these notes as i read (hooray for structure!) so..enjoy!

  • i still don’t understand the secrets at the beginning. it all sounds like nonsense to me. i do love that the second secret is framed as like a song, that’s cute
  • “probably not pleasant at all,” the gray man describes declan waiting to have his door kicked in, while at the same time describing declan’s whole entire life
  • old people make ronan anxious
  • “at night, [gansey] looked particularly small” gansey is tiny #confirmed by ronan

Keep reading



Fai looks so proud of his son for smiling and lying through his teeth. I WONDER WHO HE LEARNED THAT FROM. IT’S A MYSTERY. 

Sakura would probably punch him in the face if she realised. 

Ok no not really but I can dream

I want to say something witty about the Sandwich Battle going on but there is literally nothing I can say that could make it any better than it already is so just know that I’ve reread it at least six times over and counting. 

Sansukh Re-read Ch.1

Okay, first, FlukeofFate and a-sirens-lullaby did amazing art for this and it always reminds me of the cover art on certain books, fancy and giving you hints of what the book’s about but not spoiling anything. That really doesn’t have anything to do with the writing, but it’s amazing! Also, all of the art people have done for this? Amazing!

This is also probably a good time to admit that I read this before I had finished reading The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings books and before I’d watched all the movies. I knew that Thorin, Fili, and Kili died, it was impossible to avoid those spoilers on tumblr, but I’d put off starting this (despite how cool it sounded) because of that. I caved, however, and thus there were a few things that I read here before I was able to read them in the books (I think there were fifteen or twenty chapters of Sansukh by the time I finished reading both books).

Where was the Hobbit? Where was the frozen lake? Last he recalled, he had been bleeding to death at the edges of the silent battlefield. His madness had passed, but it had exacted too high a price. His family was spent and gone, his nephews cold and stiffened in death and rent with many wounds. Their soft-handed and great-hearted Burglar had forgiven him, even as he wept over Thorin’s broken body.

He did not deserve such forgiveness.

Poor Thorin, he’s got so much guilt and it takes him so long to work through it :’( I really just want to wrap him up in a soft blanket and tell him that he’ll be okay.

Thorin opened his new, useless eyes and glared into the darkness. “Then why, may I ask, did you make me so flawed?”

Thorin yelling at his Maker is both heartbreaking and a bit funny. Heartbreaking, because everything that he says, he believes. He really thinks that Mahal made a mistake, that he was flawed, that he was the reason things had gone wrong and that nothing else contributed it. A bit funny, though, because Thorin is literally yelling at a supremely powerful being who can’t even touch Thorin without him feeling the amount of power Mahal holds. And Thorin literally doesn’t care, he’s speaking his mind and Mahal just lets him vent.

“I lived less well. And amends are not of use,” Thorin spat. “That is not the point of them!”

Thorin understands this better than 90% of people I interact with on a daily basis.

“Everyone, this way! Found him, finally, how many sepulchres are there in this place?”

“Mahal only knows. Actually, he probably does. We should ask.”

As soon as I read the summary for this story, I was honestly hoping that someone would make a ‘Mahal only knows’ 'Well, then why don’t you ask him’ joke, and it happened in the first chapter!

“Best move out of the way,” Thrór muttered, and Thráin chuckled again.

“Aye, she won’t be patient much longer.”

“You mean she can be patient?”

“Don’t insult my wife, you old coot.”

There’s a lot of feels in this chapter, but it’s the funny bits like this that help me keep from breaking into tears so soon. I need to pace myself, after all, or there’ll be none left by the time I get to Dís and Dísith.

“By the way, Grandma is kind of terrifying,” Kíli said, and then he yelped as the lady Frís, daughter of Aís, Princess Under the Mountain and wife of Thráin, presumably pinched him.

“Behave, young one,” she said sternly, pulling back to stroke Thorin’s face again and thread her fingers through his close-cropped beard. “I’ll get to you two in a moment.”

“Terrifying,” said Fíli admiringly. “I kinda see where Mum gets it from, now.”

“Our grumpy little Dís as a mother,” said a young, laughing voice, a voice that rang like bells. “Let Middle-Earth tremble.”

Have I mentioned that I love Frís? Because I do, so much, and it’s things like this, as well as how compassionate she is, how organized she is, how loving…okay, there’s a lot to love about Frís. She’s one of my favorite Sansukh OCs.

“Shut up,” Thorin choked, and Frerin threw back his head and laughed his silver laugh and oh, Thorin had missed him, missed him so much.

“You shut up,” he said gently, and then Frerin was pulling his braid and abruptly Thorin was struck with a memory so vivid that he reeled with the strength of it, sent back to a hazy, golden time when he was five years old and the new baby kept chewing and tugging at his hair.

How every sibling reunion ever probably goes, minus the hair pulling. Or with more of it, depending on who the siblings are.

“I’m dreaming, yes?” he asked of no-one in particular. “Thorin doesn’t tease. He got brought back wrong. Mahal made a mistake.”

“Oh, you think you two were bad?” said Thrór archly. “These two had you beaten.”

“Why do you think he already knew most of your tricks?” added Frerin. “We thought up that stuff a century before you two.”

“It was always your idea,” Thorin muttered.

“And you always led the way,” Frerin said, and nudged him. “Such a dutiful Prince!”

Kíli wailed aloud, and Thorin could just picture the look of betrayal on his face. “Everything I knew is wrong,” he moaned.

Thorin smiled through his tears and Fíli chuffed a laugh. “Poor Kíli. He’s pulling at his hair again.”

“Tell him to stop. He doesn’t have hair enough to spare,” Thorin said, and Kíli’s outraged yelp made him smile all the harder.

Poor Kíli, he doesn’t know half of the things Thorin and Frerin got up to before he was even thought of. His pranking title is in serious jeopardy in light of this new information.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” said Fíli into his ear. “Why didn’t you or Mum ever tell me I looked like your mother and brother? I always thought I was the odd one out!”

“In this family?” Frís snorted. “When it comes to odd, we are rather spoiled for choice.”

I’ve said something similar to this so often in real life, that I actually laughed when I read this bit for the first time. My dog looked at me funny, apparently I’d woken her up from her nap.

“You weren’t so nice to us,” accused Fíli. “Mobbed us, you did! I thought we were under attack at first! I punched my own father on the nose!”

That surprised a true laugh out of Thorin, thought it hurt his chest. “You hit Víli?” he said.

“He did. And I stamped on Grandfather’s foot,” said Kíli.

Thráin cleared his throat. “And bit my hand,” he added sternly.

“Well, you try being blind as a bat and naked as a mole and having your dead grandfather commenting on your lack of beard, see how you like it,” Kíli grumbled.

Poor Víli, that’s probably not how he expected his reunion with his sons to go.

“Oh, it’s Thrór all over again, someone stop him,” groaned Frís. “We’re going to drown in the combined guilt of the Line of Durin before we ever lay a stone of Arda Remade.”

If all of the Durins are like Thorin, then Frís is probably right about that.

  • Me: I want to reread Captive Prince.
  • Logical Me: You have no time to reread Captive Prince.
  • Logical Me: Even if you did have time to reread Captive Prince in the few minutes you could steal from studying time, you'd end up wanting to write metas, and metas take up even more time you don't have.
  • Me: But I want to reread Captive Prince.
  • Logical Me: make a compelling argument there...

I didn’t have to be told twice. I’d been given a direct order from a teacher. I knew what I had to do. I could hear the commotion behind me. Buckingham took a globe from the CIA’s booth and hurled it at Agent Edwards’s head, and when he ducked she brought a knee up into his face, bloodying his nose and knocking him, disoriented, to the ground.

Madame Dabney tripped one of the two goons who were supposed to be capturing me and pushed the other into the Secret Service’s booth, sending a perfectly scaled replica of the White House crashing to the floor.

In a flash, the entire Grand Hall was in chaos. It was like a street fight. A brawl.

HOW. How could I have ever forgotten something as legendary as this scene right here. 

potclean reblogged your photoset and added:

A correction (hope you don’t mind! I’ve just read X a gazillion times):
Seiichirou never divorced his wife, he’s happily married and has a 3 years old daughter. Which is great for him but also sad because Karen is in love with him. At least I don’t remember him divorcing in the manga? Am I mistaken?? Also he’s named after CLAMP’s own editor at the time! (that’s why the character is also an editor at a manga magazine).

Thank you for this! That’s very good to know. 

When I mentioned in the post that I didn’t remember much about Seiichirou, I definitely wasn’t kidding. All my knowledge was drawn from the vague mentions of him in my past liveblogs (and I barely talked about him at all) so I definitely appreciate the correction!

Sansukh Re-read Ch.7

Thorin made a special point of witnessing the lad’s celebration. Fíli and Kíli spent all their time gawking at Gimrís, and Frerin did naught but complain that he couldn’t drink the very fine spirit Bilbo had sent from the Shire for the occasion. Bifur was entertaining himself by walking through people. It was a very unnerving sight.

I love this. Thorin’s there to watch the celebration, Fíli and Kíli just want to stare at Gimrís, Frerin just wants to complain about not being able to drink, and Bifur’s having fun being dead and being able to walk through people. Different dwarves enjoy the celebration differently, and I love the variety.

“Thank you, Aunt Dís,” he said, dazed as he accepted it. The bag fell away to reveal a pair of very familiar throwing axes. He looked up, his eyes wide and white. She smiled.

“Fíli would like you to have them, no doubt,” she said.

I always have feels at this point. Years ago, when Gimli first started going to visit Dís, she couldn’t bear to part with Fíli or Kíli’s things, because the wound was too fresh. Now, it’s healed a little, at least it’s not as raw, and she can bear to part with something of Fíli’s because she knows it’s something Gimli would be able to put to good use, and Fíli would rather them be used than just sit in a closet somewhere.

The Ri Brothers had banded together and had made him a beautiful warm woollen travelling surcoat with a matching pair of trousers. The stitching around the edges was hardy and strong, and the colour was a warm rusty brown that made the red of his beard appear brighter. “Thank you!” Gimli said, and held it up to admire the gold thread interwoven through the edges.

Whenever they band together, they always do great things. Joining a quest, making fantastic traveling clothes, etc.

“Gimrís,” he said in awe. “You made this?”

She bristled. “What, are you calling me a liar?”

As much as I love their bickering, it sort of backfired in this case for Gimrís. She’s expecting their usual trade of loving insults, and instead Gimli’s honestly astonished at what a beautiful gift she’d made him and so she has to discuss feelings.

“Well,” she said, uncomfortable in his embrace, “I suppose you’re not completely awful.”

He rolled his eyes, and then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Namadith. You’re not always a brat.”

“That’s as close as they’ll ever get, I suppose,” Mizim said with a sigh, dabbing at her eyes.

She’s probably not wrong about that.

A set o’ lungs on the bairn that echoed even in my ears!“

"Aye, and is that why you dropped him?” Glóin said, his eyebrow arching. Mizim folded her arms, her eyes glinting rather dangerously. Óin let go of Gimli’s shoulders like hot coals.

“Ah, er…”

“Óin dropped the baby?” said Bombur incredulously.

“Aye, right on his precious wee head. Lucky he’s a Dwarf, or it could have hurt him!”

“Lucky he landed on his head, you mean,” Gimrís said. “Did the floor tiles crack?”

Gimli scowled at her.

“He wouldn’t stop wriggling!” Óin said. “I hadn’t delivered a babby before. He was the first – I was nervous!”

This is my favorite thing ever. Óin getting drunk and embarrassing Gimli, with unwitting help from Mizim and Glóin, by talking about his birth. Gimli should be lucky that he lives in an Age before there were cameras, or the three of them would’ve probably been bringing out naked baby pictures.

“Poor little mite, dropped on his head - an’ Mizim swearin’ a blue streak an’ all, an’ Glóin about to faint wi’ first-time-father jitters,” Óin crooned, patting the mortified Gimli’s cheek. “Still, it didn’t faze him at all! He just roared at me some more, an’ when I picked him back up he straightaway soiled himself all down the front o’ my apron t’ teach me a lesson.”

Drunk Óin is hilarious.

Gimrís was trying in vain to muffle her snickers by biting down on her hand. Gimli scowled at her. “You wait til it’s your turn. Eight years, sister. Watch your back.”

“Aye, not long until you’ve reached your centenary, little lass,” said Glóin, smiling at her.

She tossed her head. “If you tell such stories about me, I’ll put an emetic in your food.”

I approve of Gimrís’ method of getting them to not tell embarrassing stories about her. Gimli’s probably regretting that he didn’t think up a suitable threat before this all happened.

“And I saw her first!” Fíli snapped. “Thorin, tell him to keep his grubby hands to himself!”

Thorin shook his head. “Not for all the world.”

“If you do,” Bifur added, his face alive with gladness, “I will knock out every one of your teeth.”

Again, I love Bifur. He’s not even alive anymore, and he still will do whatever’s in his power (although that’s not much considering he’s dead) to make sure Bofur gets his shot at happiness.

“Khuzd tada bijebî âysîthi mud oshmâkhî dhi zurkur ughvashâhu, oh, never thought I would live to see the day,” Bifur said happily.

“You didn’t,” said Fíli sourly.

“Oh, hush,” Thorin told his grousing nephews, a lump in his throat. “Bofur is falling in love, his dearest wish, and they have the time to be together. That is no small thing.”

Okay, even though Fíli only said it because he’s grumpy that someone else is with Gimrís, that’s hilarious. And Thorin looking at those two and seeing what could have been if he and Bilbo had just wised up sooner? All the feels.

Thorin ignored him with as much dignity as he could muster – which was a lot.

Understatement of the Age.

Glóin drew Mizim aside. “Did what I just think happened actually happen?”

“You’ve got eyes,” she said under her breath. “Yes, our daughter is diving headlong into courting faster than a dropped hammer, and you, you old bear, are going to respect her wishes and leave Bofur alone, d'you hear?”

“I wouldn’t hurt him!” he protested. “He’s of the Company! I’d just… I’d just scare him a little.”

Overprotective Papa Glóin is no match for his wife. Mizim won’t let him threaten Bofur and risk chasing him off. She probably noticed that he’s a little insecure about the fact that he’s older than Gimrís and knows that it wouldn’t take much ‘scaring’ to chase him off even if he does love Gimrís.

“About sixty, sixty-five so far,” said Náli, the old white-haired training-master.

“Too many,” Thorin whispered. “One Dwarf is too many, let alone sixty-five!”

Oh Balin, what are you doing? You’ve lost your mind, it’s like Thorin said, your love of tradition is getting the better of you. Don’t you remember Azanulbizar? Do you really want another battle like that?

“The Balrog,” Thorin spat.

Gimli’s shoulders tensed. “Aye, but what of Durin’s Bane?”

Many faces blanched, but several Dwarves scoffed loudly. “An ancient thing long turned to dust! We have naught to fear from old tales!”

You are all gonna be eating those words soon enough.

“Ori,” Thorin said helplessly, and then he scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, not Ori. Youngest of us all, little Ori in your knitted gloves… Ori, you are but a hundred and eleven! I cannot… Ori, in Moria, your brothers…”

I wonder, if Ori had realized how soon Nori would be dying, and how alone Dori would be, if he still would have agreed. On the one hand, it’s important to have a historian along on something like this. On the other hand, he’d be leaving Dori alone with no one to care for.

“Aye, well, my uncle is more than a little deep in his cups,” Gimli laughed, and clapped Lóni’s back. “Ask him again when he is sober!”

When he’s sober, he’s still interested. It’s a good thing Thorin talked you out of going too, though, or else the Fellowship would have ended differently.

Not long after Gimli’s nameday, Dwalin was completely blindsided by a proposal of courtship from his deputy, the stony, severe Orla. He had been so surprised he actually said yes.

Orla turning Dwalin’s world upside down and proposing to him is awesome. I can’t lie, though, she’s my favorite OC in Sansukh, so I think a lot of what she does is awesome.

One of Dwalin’s troops made the mistake of joking about the relationship.

No-one made that mistake ever again.

I wonder if Orla took care of it, Dwalin did, or if they teamed up to do it.

“Hello, my boy,” he said softly. “Hello Thorin, son of Dwalin.”

“Oh, you did not,” said Thorin in disgust.

Everyone wants to name their kids after you, Thorin, you need to get used to it.

“You bloody stupid noble twit,” were Nori’s first words to Thorin, and he lowered his head and laughed softly.

“Aye, guilty as charged. But at least I wasn’t killed over a rigged game of conkers.”

Nori dying because of a rigged game of conkers is hilarious! I mean, it’s sad he died, but just the reason for his death being /conkers/ of all things? That’s hilarious.

“Tashf!” Bifur snapped, and then launched himself at Nori and wrapped him in his arms. Nori gasped as all the air was knocked out of him.

“Mahal below, what the…” he choked.“Bifur, hang on a bleedin’ second, let a body get his breaf back…”

“He’s a little excited to see you,” said Fíli dryly.

“Nah, really? Do tell,” Nori managed.

“D'you think he’ll do that to each one of the Company as they arrive?” Kíli wondered.

“Yes,” Bifur said emphatically. “I will, and stop talking about me as if I weren’t here.”

“Wait a mo, he’s speaking in Westron…!”

“He does that now,” Kíli said. “It’s getting him to stop that’s the trick. Hello Nori!”

I love Bifur. I love their reactions to Bifur here, but I mostly just love Bifur and how enthusiastic he is to welcome all of his friends when they die.

Dead, yes. Retired? Never.

Best summary of Nori’s personality ever, in less than 5 words.

He wanted to know who that young whelp was, following Bilbo around like a lost puppy!

Thorin, you’re jealous of a little hobbit, calm down. Bilbo didn’t forget you.

The boy looked confused, as though hearing such things out of the mouths of adults was not something he was used to. “You… don’t mind me having a secret hiding place?”

“Heavens no, Frodo m'boy. I have so many secrets they positively leak out of my ears; why in the world would I mind you having secrets of your own? Come on, put your bags down, and let’s go see about elevensies, shall we?”

I love Bilbo and Frodo’s interactions, especially when Frodo’s this young. And Bilbo having so many secrets that they leak out of his pointed ears is an understatement, especially when you consider his secret love of Thorin and the Ring, among others.

“Rivendell!” Frodo took a step forward out from underneath Bilbo’s arm, his large blue eyes wide. “Do you think I will ever see it?”

Fascination with elves must be in the Baggins DNA. None of the other Bagginses leave the Shire, though, so only Bilbo and Frodo have discovered it.

“Yes, Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo said with one last longing look at Rivendell, before racing down the corridor. Thorin’s lips parted on a soft breath of surprise.

Then he berated himself for an idiot and a fool.

“An uncle?” He turned to Bilbo. “I didn’t know you had siblings. How could I not know that about you?”

He was a little disconcerted. Thorin wanted to know everything about Bilbo. Everything. He could not fulfil his promise otherwise.

Your married is showing again, Thorin. Also, just be glad you don’t have Frerin or one of the others with you this time, or they would’ve teased you so much about being jealous of the little hobbit.

He’d long grown used to seeing Bilbo’s proficiency in the kitchen, though it never failed to make his mouth quirk. Why was one blade so different to another? Perhaps he should have suggested that the Burglar dice his enemies.

That actually might have helped Bilbo learn to use the sword. Just describe different food preparation techniques and have Bilbo act them out with the sword.

Thorin smiled to himself. “Even stubborn, blind, arrogant Dwarves.”

“Even idiots with their great heads stuffed firmly up their backsides,” added Bilbo, his mouth twitching. Thorin started in surprise, and then shook his head, laughing softly beneath his breath.

“Blasted creature.” How he wished… oh, how he wished. His arms ached to hold the infuriating little Burglar. He wanted to touch Bilbo’s curly hair, and to feel those nimble little hands against the nape of his neck. He longed to kiss that quick and clever mouth, to nip that sharp tongue with his teeth. “Blasted, ridiculous, absurd Hobbit.”

As funny as this is, it also has all the feels.

“If I gave you a beard, would you leave me alone?!”

Mahal’s resorting to bribery, the plan to be annoying is working a bit more quickly than I’d suspected. Then again, it’s best to never underestimate dwarves.


I could write about the scene of the rest of my life and always be happy with it. I’ve talked so much about it but there was one thing I noticed while reading the official translation for the first time (and read a ton of translations when that chapter came out haha). A good majority of it is the same, what Mikasa is saying stands true in just about every chapter, but Eren’s translation differs depending on who translated it. Previous to reading this my favorite was the one where he says something like it’s just a scarf, I’ll wrap it around you as many times as I need. Or the we’ll keep on being together one. They all give me feelings okay.

My favorite though has to be the translation in the published book. Eren gets that Mikasa’s scarf that he gave her so long ago is very special to her, girl wears it all the time but I think he understands it means a little bit more. It’s not just a treasured item; it’s their connection, its Mikasa’s connection to him. It’s not special just because it reminded her of the day he saved her life; it’s special because he gave it to her because he protected her that night. It was the very moment they were bound together and they have been ever since.

So he tells her “I’ll wrap you up in it again,” basically telling her I’ll always be there to protect you. That’s not enough though. He turns to face their enemy saying “again and again forever.” I will protect you time and time again for forever, he tells her. As if one again wasn’t enough, as if two more wasn’t enough, its forever. He is telling her they’ll always be together, they’ll always be bound like the night they were nine years old. She was telling him how much he has always meant to her, and he tells her how much she has always meant to him. Enough to prompt his words promising to always be there for her, that he will never leave her behind, that he will keep her save with him forever. Enough to try and punch a titan because he has to get her out of there; this will not be goodbye, they still have forever. 

reasons why arthur weasley’s ford anglia is the most relatable character in the entire harry potter series:
  • is a freak of nature that probably shouldn’t exist
  • unreliable
  • people always regret being inside it (just like your sex life)
  • does what it’s supposed to, but only at the absolute last minute
  • just. completely done with your shit
  • hides in the woods away from all people
  • only comes out bc of a sense of moral principle, and then promptly returns to solitude 
  • kinda ugly
Sansukh Re-read Ch.4

Thorin finished his knife, and began work on a pair of boot-daggers. Just to thumb his nose at Dís, he embedded chips of emerald in the handles and engraved the patterns for ‘honoured family’ along the blade. He could be decorative when he chose. He ended up gifting them to Fíli, and was therefore obliged to create a set for Kíli as well, lest he get deafened by complaints of favouritism.

And then, of course, Frerin wanted a set as well.

See what happens when you try to prove your sister wrong, Thorin? You just create more work for yourself.

Thorin had been a very active Dwarf his whole life. He had very rarely been stationary, forever journeying or working or building or planning. Remaining in one place was proving difficult. He turned his hand to more and more projects, but very little kept him satisfied. As the years turned and the second anniversary of the Battle of Five Armies came and went, he began to forge the links for an entire hauberk of mail simply to give himself something to do that was not staring wistfully at the waters of Gimlîn-zâram, longing in vain for the colours of Middle-Earth.

I have a feeling that this would happen a lot, active dwarves having trouble getting used to just…being. Not /needing/ to work or travel or anything else. They can still craft, and they do, but some of them have to get restless without a purpose. Meals are provided, rooms are provided, so anything they make is just really for fun or to be nice to their relatives and friends.

Glóin would bristle, his beard doubling in size (which was quite a sight)

Imagining that is always funny. I wonder if Legolas would’ve thought twice about taking in the Company if Glóin had bristled like that when Legolas insulted Gimli and Mizim.

His deputy was a Blacklock Dwarrowdam named Orla; stout, stern and nearly as severe as himself.

Orla!! Not going to lie, as much as I love all of the other OCs (I have lots of favorites) Orla is my undisputed favorite. She’s just so quietly badass, and she’s got a sense of humor that’s well hidden. She’s an excellent warrior, apparently a pretty fantastic cook since it’s mentioned that everyone loves the recipes that she brought with her, and she’s an amazing mother to her kids too. There’s more, tons more really, but I just really love Orla.

Dís and Mizim seemed to be getting along splendidly. It was an intimidating thought.

Thorin’s probably torn between 'it’s nice that Dís isn’t alone anymore’ and 'Sweet merciful Mahal, what were we thinking when we let them join forces?’.

“How many?” Glóin said, astonished.

“Eleven,” Bombur said with a little blush. “Oh, no – it’ll be twelve by now. Alrís will have given birth to the last, what… a year and a half ago?”

“It’ll be two years by the time we reach Ered Luin,” remarked Bofur.

“Sweet merciful Mahal, how does she do it?” Glóin muttered. “I could barely stand having two crying bairns in the house, let alone twelve!”

“Well, the eldest is sixty soon. She and the older lads help with the wee ones.”

“Sixty?” Glóin gave him an amused look. “You and Alrís got started early, didn’t you?”

Bombur’s blush deepened.

Bombur and Alrís are both part hobbit, that’s the only explanation. I’ve always loved the 'Bombur has a big family’ headcanon, though, I can’t remember where I read it first, but I’ve always loved it and was ecstatic to find that Bombur has a big family here. And Bombur’s little blush when he mentioned how many kids he has, and then when Glóin teased him about how early they got started? Adorable.

“Mizim wrote. Gimrís has begun an apprenticeship in glass-blowing, and apparently Gimli has made friends with the Lady Dís. The audacity of that boy!”

“The Princess?” Bofur shared a glance with Bombur. “Now there’s a surprise.”

Whenever I read this bit, I always wonder if the glance Bofur shares with Bombur is something like 'only a Lord’s son could manage that’ or if it’s just the two of them being surprised about what happened. I know they wouldn’t mean it unkindly, but that’s just something I’ve thought about various times I’ve re-read this.

Thorin couldn’t help but smile. This was an old argument: Second watch was the most unpleasant and least desirable of the three. No-one liked having to interrupt a sound sleep to stay awake for a few hours, and it led to itchy eyes and short fuses the next morning. In fact, on their first journey, 'second watch’ had become shorthand for 'bad-tempered’.

I don’t know about the dwares, but second watch doesn’t sound too bad to me. You can go to sleep earlier than whoever has first watch, and sleep later than whoever has third. Still, the fact that they traveled together long enough on the first quest to have little code words like second watch for bad-tempered? Funny, and a bit adorable.

“Lads?” Glóin said sleepily. “What’s the first thing you’re going to say to Bilbo when you see him?”

Bombur hummed for a moment and then mumbled, “ask for that cheesecake recipe.”

“How did I know it was going to be something like that?” Bofur said, grinning.

“I like cheesecake,” Bombur said with a shrug, and rolled over. “Then I’ll be huggin’ our Hobbit, and then we should have a little party.”

Bombur just doesn’t care that Bofur’s teasing him. He likes cheesecake, he likes their hobbit friend, so he’ll ask for the recipe and then give Bilbo a hug, then enjoy hobbit cooking at the party. Honestly, I think that Bilbo and Bombur would be great friends just based on how much they both like food. They’d bond over exchanging recipes and cooking styles among the hobbits versus among the dwarves…I should stop before I give myself ideas.

“Well, night lads. Tomorrow’s another day, and we’ll be seein’ old Beorn and his menagerie soon enough.”

“Green food,” shuddered Bofur. “Rest up, we’ll need all our strength.”

“Honey-cakes,” Bombur mumbled, and dropped into a snore.

Bombur knows what’s important :)

“What’s that then? I hope my poor plumbing is safe this time – I’ve only just got it sorted out again, you know.”

“We’re makin’ no promises when it comes to plumbing,” said Bofur, grinning, and then the three Dwarves were picking Bilbo up and squeezing him tightly in a great hug. Bilbo squeaked loudly, before throwing his arms around as much of them as possible.

Bilbo should make them help fix his plumbing before they leave this time as punishment.

Oh! Do make yourselves at home. Well, you usually do, don’t you?“ He laughed.

"Not a shy bunch, as a rule,” Bofur agreed.

Understatement of the Age, Bofur.

His voice echoed through the smial, and the three Dwarves blinked and looked around in confusion. Stone-sense and a knowledge of echoes did not exactly translate to a Hobbit-Hole, it seemed.

Okay, but imagine if Thorin had lived, and he spent some time in the Shire with Bilbo and got lost in Bilbo’s hobbit hole? Bilbo would laugh himself sick and never let Thorin forget it.

“Pass the scones?”

Bofur looked about. “What’s a scone?”

“Oh, call yourself my brother,” Bombur said scornfully, and handed the basket to Bilbo (after snagging three for himself, of course).

Honestly, Bofur, with Bombur as your brother, you really should know better. (I laughed so hard reading this bit though, especially since the first time I made scones, my grandfather asked what they were because he’d never had a scone before).

“So, how are things under the Mountain?” Bilbo took a bite of his scone after liberally topping it with jam and cream. “Everyone is well, I hope? I receive a letter now and again – it quite scandalises my neighbours when a Ranger comes stomping up Bagshot Row – but it isn’t the same as being there.”

Bilbo lives to scandalize his neighbors.

“Well,” Bofur said eventually. “Nori’s made himself a new leg. It’s quite a thing. He keeps a dagger in it, y'know. And a set of lockpicks. And a pack o’ cards. And a leather cosh…”

Bilbo smiled. “He would.”

That’s exactly something that Nori would do. Honestly, I’m surprised that Fíli was the porcupine of the bunch, with weapons everywhere, rather than Nori. Then again, he might have had just as many as Fíli, and the elves just couldn’t find them because he’s that good at hiding things.

“And how about you, then, Mister Baggins?” Glóin said, and slapped the Hobbit’s knee. “Been keeping well? Impressing all the little Hobbit lasses with your tales?”


“Now, now, our Hobbit is a gentleman,” said Bofur, a twinkle in his eye. “He’d never be kissin’ an’ tellin’.”

“I, er…”

“Look at him blush!” Bombur snorted. “Red as a ruby and no mistake.”

I love how Glóin’s second question basically amounts to 'Bilbo, are you dating anyone yet?’ and that he thinks that tales about dragons, orcs, and everything else they faced would be what would convince a hobbit, male or female, to think Bilbo’s suitable dating material. I wonder if he revised that opinion when he learned about the 'Mad Baggins’ title? Then again, tales of battles and quests probably win over dwarves, so he just went with what he knew.

“Not a Hobbit, was he?” said Bofur softly, and Bilbo stiffened.

“I’ll… I’ll just see to another barrel, shall I?”

Subtle, Bilbo, very subtle.

“Bilbo should be used to being annoyed by now,” Bofur said, muffling his voice in Bombur’s thick shoulder.

“Believe me, I am,” Bilbo said dryly from the door, his hands wrapped around a couple of bottles.

Another understatement, Bilbo.

“Did you know?” Thorin croaked.

“Did I know what?” Kíli said, confused. “I came to get you, it’s dinner-time. You’ve missed the midday meal, and Grandmother…”

Thorin, explaining yourself first will get you better answers than just expecting Kíli to know what you’re talking about will.

“Uncle,” Kíli said, taking a step forward before halting and sighing deeply. “At least you knew him,” he said. “At least you had that.”

I wonder if Thorin remembers this conversation after he learns about Kíli and Tauriel and realizes why Kíli said that.

“You all knew?” Thorin said again, and Kíli made an irritated sound.

“Trust you to ignore everything I just said! I’m sure I’ll never sound so wise ever again. I wish Balin could have heard it.”

I wonder if Balin ever finds out about this conversation and compliments Kíli on how well he argued his point and how tactfully it was stated.

Thorin stared at him. “You… you cannot…”

“Well, if you can shout at our Maker, surely I can make a nuisance of myself?”

Thorin, you can’t argue with that one without sounding like a hypocrite, since you yelled at Mahal.

So if they got Preston in February and on New Year’s Eve, even though it’s technically December, one can basically say it’s actually January at that point when Cammie said her 18th birthday was next month, so then Cammie’s birthday is some time in February? And by that standard if, according to LYKY, Macey’s three month’s older than Cammie, so that would make her birthday somewhere around November?

And it also means that Cammie is probably the youngest of her friends? I’m assume anyway because we have no idea when Liz’s or Bex’s birthdays are so I could be wrong.