#dwamgee

[enbyofdionysos]

Bilbo: That is not how you said you were gonna tell him

Dwalin: He started it

[thehobbutt]

Samwise Gamgee - The Giver 🌻

I have so much shit I need to do, but this has been clawing at the walls of my brain for months sooooooooooo here we are. I also maintain that Chappell Roan wrote this song specifically about dear old Samwise because we know he lives to SERVE

[enbyofdionysos]

a moment of silence for this line that didn’t make it past editing for my recent dwamgee fic

[enbyofdionysos]

‘How would Bilbo be okay with Thorin sleeping with Dwalin and Sam’ bc they’re out here having foursomes with Sam’s parents 🕯️

[enbyofdionysos]

Sam being sick with a cold or the flu and being woken up by Dwalin’s hand in his hair, gently wiping his sweaty forehead

“Sorry to wake ye, lad,” he says softly. “But ye’ve missed fifteenth breakfast or what have ye and I thought ye might be hungry.”

Sam closes his eyes again and sniffles. “You think you’re so funny,” he says, voice like gravel. But he pries his eyes open again and makes himself sit up, wincing.

Dwalin’s holding a bowl of soup buffered by one of their dish towels. He offers it to Sam for a moment before thinking better of it and instead lifts the spoon to Sam’s mouth.

Thorin would have done a double take, but Sam merely opens his mouth readily, ears pink.

Creamy chicken broth coats his tongue and it’s—good. Really good.

So good in fact—

“Is that my recipe?” Sam asks, blinking.

“Aye,” Dwalin says, dipping the spoon in the bowl.

“I didn’t write that down anywhere.”

“Ye didn’t,” Dwalin agrees.

“You… memorized it?”

“I wouldn’t be much of a dwarf if I didn’t watch my One with his craft, would I,” Dwalin says dryly. He feeds another spoonful of soup into Sam’s gaping mouth.

“You learned it by watching me,” Sam repeats, more to himself than to Dwalin.

“Aye, lad, is it so astonishin’ to think I pay attention?”

“Well, no,” Sam says. “And yes. I mean—I never thought I did anything worth paying attention to.”

He squinches his eyes as Dwalin gently presses his nose with his thumb. “You’re worth paying attention to,” Dwalin says earnestly, and Sam feels himself flush with love. “Now open up. Can’t have ye be skin an’ bones.”

Sam opens his mouth—and lets himself be fed.

[enbyofdionysos]

goblin that knob is officially live! happy belated birthday @aliensunscreen !! 🎉

[enbyofdionysos]

things Dwalin has called Sam (affectionately) in this fic so far:

Bonny bastard

Braw fucking prick

Cunt-mouthed rocket

Mental fucking ferret

[enbyofdionysos]

here’s the Dwalin/Sam edit in question btw 🤝