AN: These stories will be snippets of stories I have played with. Some can be read as oneshots. Some are scattered headcanons that don't necessarily exist within the same AU (as some clash with each other) but are interesting ideas that I'd like to explore in a story.

Some of them (Like Shrinkydinks) I'm actively fleshing out right now to become a longer story.

Feel free to comment~

Heat of the Moment

Frodo Baggins was the son of Drogo Baggins and Primula Brandybuck.

As a child, he certainly let his mother's blood shine through, playing pranks and spreading rumors and generally causing havoc to hobbitkind. His friends were infamous in their own ways, and their egging on gave him a kind of foolish courage that really should be left alone.

Frodo Baggins was also the cousin (slash adopted nephew) of Bilbo Baggins, the only hobbit to help reclaim a mountain from a fire-breathing dragon. The 'fire-breathing' part was mostly repetition, since Smaug was really the last great Fire-drake and inherently a fire-breathing kind of dragon, but his Uncle seemed to like reminding him of his deeds whenever Frodo would rather not help with chores.

"I walked all the way to Erabor to reclaim a mountain against a fire-breathing dragon, and then walked back! You can clean your room in a night!"

"You rode a pony halfway there., and rode on Eagles another part."

"I fought Orcs and Wargs!"

"Fine, I'll pick up the mess."

In any case, Frodo Baggins was quite experienced in dealing with his Uncle's outrageous exaggerations, and finding nuggets of truth within the riddles spun by someone who had fooled both a dragon and a riddle-happy goblin-eater.

A gray wizard and a handful of representitives were no comparison.

"It can only be destroyed by the fires from whence it came!"

Gandalf's voice was powerful, but it did not get the cowering reception that he expected.

"Why yes that's wonderful, but unless you plan on Waltzing through the front gates of Mordor flashing a rude gesture while completely nude, I don't see how your plan could possibly get worse."

The wizard frowned sternly at the young Hobbit who spoke up. Frodo blinked up at him with wide blue eyes.

"The ring must be destroyed, to help unmake the evils that the dark lord has wrought upon Middle-earth."

The halfling nodded, biting his lip and trying very hard not to meet anyone's gaze directly.

"Of course I agree with you. I'd just like to point out that Mount Doom is possibly the most dangerous place on the continent – possibly the world."

"Which is why we will be gathering a group of travelers both hardy and strong of will to deliver the ring to its final resting place."

The wizard's voice was nearly a growl as he tried to impart the importance of this quest on a Baggins who clearly had not abandoned an ounce of his mother's bloodline. He'd not be hard-pressed to say Frodo seemed even less Bagginsish than his coming-of-age party seventeen years ago! That is, Baggins-ish in relation to the entire bloodline, not just his uncle who was still regarded as 'Mad Baggins' in many circles.

"Wonderful plan, I mean that with the greatest sincerity" (It was obviously he was not in fact very sincere.) "But did it ever occur to you that the ring might be destroyed in a different volcano?"

The sudden silence spoke for itself.

A dwarf spoke up. Frodo could not recall his name after such swift introductions. The one with the axe, as unhelpful as that descriptor was.

"What other fiery mountains do you see, lad? Not many ranges have a molten heart. None but for the dark one, to my maps."

Frodo tilted his head, drawing courage from his friends still obviously hiding in the brush and listening in. He caught a quiet snicker on the wind, and found the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Not so much a mountain, but certainly a volcano of some sort. It lies to the west and much further to the south of the Shire, sprawling halfway in the western sea. It oozes liquid stone every so often and expands the edges of its island. I've heard the merchant Men grumble about it."

The stillness continued, though one of the Elf nobles was beginning to give Gandalf a fairly unimpressed look.

Frodo fidgeted with a honey-colored curl, following a dragonfly with his eyes.

"It shouldn't take more than a month or two to get there by pony. A bit better than the six-month trip across Middle-Earth." less dangerous, too went unsaid.