Middle Earth - Blog Posts

IM SORRY BUT WE WONT SURVIVE ON THE FOOD IN MIDDLE EARTH

Alright so, after looking at the food in Middle earth it does look amazing BUT I WONT BE ABLE TO EAT MY NOODLES OR RICE!! Like I love my po-tat-oes but I can only eat so many until I have had my fill for the week. And let me not even get started on seasoning, Middle earth is based on Europe with a lot of similarities and differences but one small problem with this..... we got OUR SPICES from ancient Egyptian, Chinese, and Indian cultures so what do you my dear readers think the food in Middle earth tastes like? Pepper is going to become hot and salt the new sweet BECAUSE SUGAR IS ALSO FROM ASIA....

But just imagen coming from our world tasting a dish from Lord Elrond or someone else that is an important person and smack talk them for calling pepper spicy. You are going to be standing there and ask if you can make something for yourself cus this shit was so bland and boring. (Spoiler you are going to invent spices right then and there and become super rich and famous, Smaug can go and cry in a corner cus u wont be needing his treasure)

idk if middle earth has valentine, probably not, but if they DONT imagine asking ur one to be your valentine and they just DONT GET WHAT YOU MEAN😭😭 Like what do you mean valentine? What is a valentine? Valentines day? What is that? Why are you making that face? Did I say something wrong?

After explaining what it is they just think it is the sweetes thing <3

Please join me on Twitch for Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor

nah you‘re right :)

am i wrong

I'm a mix of hogwarts and neverland myself :)))

-,’ types of people ,’-

hogwarts: bloody noses, always trying their best, warm sunsets, late summer nights, sharing secrets, messy hair, movie nights, stargazing, wanting to explore the world, standing up for friends, dogs, loud laughs, fuzzy sweaters

narnia: pale white snow, red cheeks, hot tea, fantasy stories, neat notes, big scarves, early morning walks, soft smiles, cute coffee shops, calming energy, cold hands, friendly eyes, wanting to learn more, astronomy geeks

middle earth: ancient souls, coffee, old bookshelves, history nerds, loves mythology, feels at home in the forest, always up for an adventure, oversized hoodies, high grades, striving to be the best version of themselves, cats

neverland: believes in fate, doesn’t care about opinions, flower fields, standing up for what’s right, honey, photography, amazed by the universe, kind souls, often lost in their own thoughts, friendliness, loves the stars, artistic

The feminine urge to have a monster boyfriend to live with in an enchanted forest and/or the middle earth

Writing Prompt: #3 Pinky Promise (Swear)

It was the beginning of spring and elves of all corners were gathered in celebration. It was a lovely affair. It was a lovely affair and the royals were acting like children.

Singrid:Just let me see it Legolas!

Legolas: No

Singrid (eyeroll): Oh come on what do you want me to pinky swear I won’t break it?

Bard: Singrid!

Singrid: What it was a legitimate offer!

Legolas: Fine

Singrid: Excuse me?

Legolas: I will take you up on your pinky swear

Thranduil: I thought it was a pinky promise

Bain (shrug): It is but you can also do the swear to it

Singrid: Alright then,

“Cross my heart

Hope to die

Stick a needle in my eye”

Singrid extending here pinky out to Legolas who took it dumbstruck.

BAM!

Tilda: Did Glorfindale faint?

Elrond: .... what the absolute-

You know the “girl falls to Middle Earth” trope ? Does anyone know a good fanfic of this IN REVERSE?!?? I just love the idea of elves reacting to things especially music!

Thanks in advance!

What do you feed to a vegan orc?

Uruk hay

“One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man”

I’ll probably eat 4

Saturday, 10 o'clock in Middle-earth, time for a snack. Have break - have a Lembas! (Well, at least it’s 10 o’clock AM in Germany ;-) )

The perfect path for a hobbit to take a stroll

Sauron's fortress of barad dur from The Lord of The Rings (my favorite movies and book? books?)

Moving my LotR, Hobbit, Rings of Power fan webcomics to their own Tumblr blog - The Green Dragon Inn. Go check 'em out...

Finally weekend, time to escape!!

Okay, hear me out. The Lord of the Rings…but they’re allowed to use curse words…

“They have a fucking cave troll...”

“I cannot jump the distance! You’ll have to fucking toss me!”

“Merry! It’s Frodo fucking Baggins!”

“Gods damn it…a Balrog of fucking Morgoth.”

“Fool of a fucking Took.”

“Bitch, please. I am no man.”

“Peregrin Took, you little shit!”

“By nightfall, these hills will be crawling with fucking orcs.”

“I think I’ve fucking broken something.”

“Your bodyguard?” “His fucking gardener.”

“I would cut off your head, you little shit, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.”

“You’re late…you look fucking terrible.”

“And for you Frodo Baggins…Elrond’s father in a fucking bottle.”

“PO-FUCKING-TA-TOES!”

Accountant AU where the reader works for a small town firm called “Istari Financial.” Making her living after coming home from college, looking after the books for the following local businesses…

The local vineyard, “Greenwood Acres” which has been around longer than anyone can remember, run by a single father as head of the business and a very dedicated team of young employees. Everyone from college hires to long time employees, but nobody in town can quite tell just how old anyone is.

A local business ring run by the Durinson Family who own nearly every business in town. The local brewery, the auto repair shop, the car dealership, the pawn shop, etc. They run everything as a family, but all answer to the head of the family, a bachelor who’s yet to get married as he’s “married to his work.” Though, he secretly has his eyes set on someone in town. Who though? Nobody knows…

The bakery at the center of town, called “Lorien Confection” where the man behind the counter greets customers, serves icecream and brags about his wife while the white witch in the kitchen rolls out goodie after goodie by the dozen of sugar-coated goodness. The baker earning the title of witch as she always seems to know what people want before they do.

The coffee/tea shop doubling as a wholistic whole foods store run by three best friends who rejected their respected posh lifestyles and struck out on their own straight out of college to bring clean, organic food to the town sourced from local farms. A store called “Three Hunters Whole Foods.”

A fish farming organization called “Bard & Son Fishery,” that works hard to protect local wildlife conservation run by a father of three which provides clean, non-gmo fish, hydroponic-grown greens, vegetables and strives to teach young people about respecting the planet and sustainable farming on field trips for the local elementary school.

And who could forget the local bar/restaurant, run by the Baggins family, Uncle and Nephew, along with their friends who provide an atmosphere of home and hearth hospitality to any and all who cross their threshold…right up until somebody asks them to host a party that doesn’t involve their catering.

And last but not least, the readers worst enemy, “Mordor Credit,” the local bank out to screw everyone over and take their businesses. The reader often times being the only thing standing between them and a hefty audit…or worse, an eviction…



What is it?

One of only two scruffy kings I would follow into battle!

You know, for all that the elves are beautifully described by Tolkien to have a deep cultural connection to the stars, the only character in Middle Earth that I would really label an astronomer is a mortal man: Tar-Meneldur, the fifth king of Numenor.

Tar-Meneldur was actually born “Irimon”,...

Orodreth and Finduilas, one more art for fandom challenge

Bunch of pictures I made for pallette meme using this palette:

Fingon

Galadriel, Eol and Aredhel, Maglor

Celegorm

Beleg before his hair turned silver because of Turin old age.

Don’t worry, I’m still doing modern au requests, I was just hit by inspiration. 

For the anon who asked about life drawing, here’s an example of how I do it:

   The structuring is the most important part. Try to get the features as accurate as possible. Resist the urge to go into the details. It looks weird right now because of the lack of shading.

 Getting the lighting right is also important. You need to figure out where the direct light is coming from.

The rendering is actually the easiest part. Once you’ve got the position of the features and the lighting, all you need to do is fill it in.

  Another thing that I’ve had to learn is the importance of contrast. You need darkness to contrast the light parts so don’t be afraid to darken the necessary parts.

Coming April 4, 2015: THE HOBBIT READ-ALONG

Some of you were involved with previous read-alongs, so you know what’s coming, but for the newbies, here’s the deal: For seven weeks, we’re going to read through Tolkien’s The Hobbit together chapter by chapter. It’s a great opportunity for first-timers and old fans alike to enjoy Tolkien’s works with other Tumblr fans like you while also sharing our own fanworks.

And in case that description wasn’t enough to get you excited, here’s a promo trailer I made for the event. If you have any questions, you can find me at tolkienreadalong.tumblr.com - I hope to see you all there!

(Oh, and please reblog this, or make a promo post of your own - the more people find out about the read-along, the more fun it is for everyone, believe me!)

4th of October: Crown / An Ceathramh Latha dhen Dàmhair: Crùn

English Translation:

Unlike his forebears, Thorin wore no crown. The people of Erebor placed their trust in him and he would not lead them astray, but when they came with a crown - forged in the halls they built in the west - as a way to honour his leadership, he refused them.

As a king in exile, Thorin would not bear any crown until he sat upon the throne of his fathers'. In the same way he kept his beard short, in memory of those lost to the dragon's fire, he remained unadorned in the traditional garb of his royal line.

Not until the mountain was theirs once more and the loss of their past washed out would he do so. Thorin took the crown made for him and placed it above the seat, hewn from the strong mountain rock, where he spoke to his people.

"Let it there rest," he said, "and every day I will work to reach its honour."

For in his heart, Thorin felt less than worthy to wear any crown, beggar-prince that he had been.

Scottish Gaelic Translation:

Aocoltach ris a sinnsearan, cha robh crùn air Thòrin. Chuir an t-sluaigh Erebor earbs air agus cha robh e ‘s gun cuireadh e iad air seachran. Ach nuair a thàinig iad le crùn, air dèanamh san tallachan a thogadh anns an Iar, mar onarachadh dha, cha ghabh e e.

Mar rìgh fògraich, cha robh Thòrin airson crùn a bhith air mus do sheas e air an rìgh-chathair nan athraichean. Anns an aon dòigh gun robh e a’ cumail na fheòsag goirid, cha bhiodh na aodaich rìoghail traidiseanta air mar chuimhneachan de dhaoine a chaidh a losgadh san teine an nathair-sgiathaich. Cha dèanadh e gus a bha a’ bheinn aca a-rithist.

Chuir Thòrin an crùn a bha air cruthachadh dha agus shuidhe e e air os chionn an rìgh-cathair a rinn an t-sluaigh às na clachan. An àite far am biodh e a’ bhruidhinn riutha.

“Leig an sin e,” thuirt e, “agus gach latha, obraich mi gus an urrainn dhomh an urram sin a’ ruigse.”

Air sgàth, anns a chridhe, cha robh Thòrin a’ faireachdainn gun robh e airidh air crùn sam bith—prionnsa dhìol-dèirce a bha e uaireigin.

3rd of October: Durin's Day / An Treasamh Latha dhen Dàmhair: Là Dhurin

English Translation:

In the early years after the dragon came, the Dwarves of Erebor set their eyes on survival. Much was lost to them during this time, cultural and religious customs they failed to sustain in their wanderings.

As soon as they had homes once again, mines to work in and forges to fire, Thorin looked to these things for the final missing piece in their lives. His nephews, growing fast, had never experienced Durin's Day in any way other than that of the Blue Mountains.

He heard Erebor in their speech, saw it in the style of their clothes, and even in the weapons they favoured, but so much of his nephews' cultural references lay elsewhere. He wished for them to understand Durin's Day through the eyes of their own culture.

Thus, ten years since Erebor had seen its last Durin's Day, her people put on a feast in Thorin's Halls the like of which was rarely seen. They worked tirelessly to have everything right: musicians woke up old ballads, bakers brought back old delicacies, and the elders gathered to pass their folktales onto the new generations. The exiles.

Another wound was healed that night, another wrong put right. Thorin watched over the festivities as Fili and Kili learnt how to sing a traditional Erebor hymn and thought of his own childhood.

Finally, everyone came together on the stone slopes before the gates of their halls to watch the last vestiges of the sunset fade from the sky behind them and the autumn moon rise in the eastern horizon. For a precious few minutes, both lights lingered together, before the sun was overcome at last.

Thorin stood with his arm around Dis and the boys by their legs, wide-eyed with their first Durin's Day beads braided carefully in their hair. They were't likely to sleep tonight.

The towering stature of the Misty Mountains blocked it from view, but Thorin knew - could see - beyond their white peaks lay Erebor, bathed in the silver light of Durin's moon.

Maybe he started it, or perhaps they all did so at the same time, but slowly and quietly, their low Dwarven voices rose into the sky with a song of home-sickness on their lips. A mourning song.

Oh, far over the Misty Mountains cold...

Scottish Gaelic Translation:

Anns na bliadhnaichean a chaidh seachad as dèidh don nathair-sgiathach tighinn, thoirt na Troichean Erebor an sùilean air mairsinneach. Chaill iad tòrr tron àm seo, nòsan cultarach is creideamh nach do chùm iad beò anns am fuadan aca.

Cho luath ‘s a bha dachaighean aca a-rithist, mèinnean a bhith ag obair anns agus ceàrdaichean a chuir teinne anns, chaidh Thòrin don rudan seo a’ sireach am pìos mu dheireadh air fhàgail bho am beathannan sa Bheinn Ònaranach. A’ fàs cho àrd a-nist, cha robh na mic a pheathar eòlach idir air an dòigh dhen Là Dhurin ach an dòigh na Beanntan Ghorm.

Chuala e Erebor san dòigh-bhruidhinn aca, san stoidhle aodach, eadhon san arm a bha an dithis measail air. Ach leis na rudan beaga, chunnaic e gun robh sin a’ tighinn bho àitichean eile. Bha e airson ‘s gum biodh iad a’ tuigsinn Là Dhurin tron shùilean an cultar aca fhèin.

Air an adhbhar sin, deich bliadhna seach gun do chunnaic Erebor an Là Dhurin mu dheireadh, chuir an t-sluaigh aice seòin air dòigh nach fhaca iad gu tric anns na Tallachan Thòrin. Dh’obraich iad gu cruaidh airson a h-uile rud a bhith ceart: dh’èirich ceòladairean seann balantan, rinn bèicearan seann biadh fìnealta, agus chruinneach na daoine aosmhor ri chèile airson am beul-aithris aca a thoirt don ghinealaichean ùra. Na fògraich.

Shlànaich gort eile an oidhche sin, rud eile a chuir ceart. Choimhead Thòrin air an subhachas mar a dh’ionnsaich Fìli is Kìli laoidh traidiseanta Erebor a sheinn agus smaointeach e air na làithean anns an robh e fhèin beag.

Mu dheireadh thall, thàinig a h-uile duine ri chèile a-mach air na slèibhtean mu bheul an geata nan tallachan. Choimhead iad air dol fodha na grèine san speur air an cùlaibh, an solas a’ dol às beag air bheag. Agus gealach an foghair a’ tighinn suas san fàire Ear. Airson beagan mionaidean prìseil, dh’fhuirich an dà sholas anns an speur ri chèile mus do dh’fhalbh a’ ghrian.

Sheas Thòrin le a gàirdean timcheall a phiuthar, Dìs, agus na bhalaich ri taobh nan casan. Bha na sùilean drileach aca a’ coimhead mòr, agus bha a’ chiad grìogagan Là Dhurin a bh’ aca air pleatach anns am falt. Cha bhiodh e comasach gun cadail iad a-nochd.

Cha b’ urrainn dha a’ faicinn tro na Beanntan Àird a’ Cheò, ach bha fios aige gun robh Erebor air a seasamh dìreach thar air na mullaichean gheala, lannrach anns an t-solas ghealach Dhurin.

Is docha gun do thoiseach esan e, no ‘s docha gun do rinn iad uile e aig an aon am, ach gu slaodach agus gu samhach, chaidh na guthan ìosal troiche dhan speur le òran chianalais air an bilean.

Ò thar na Beanntan Àird fhuar a’ Cheò...

2nd of October: Light / An dàrna latha dhen Dàmhair: Solas

English Translation:

Thorin knew beauty, perfection, could recognise the mark of true craftsmanship with ease. Though still young in the years of Dwarves, he studied at the side of their greatest smiths, deep in the halls of Erebor before the dragon came, and learnt the true meaning of creation.

The forges of Men lacked skill and care; working on them brought him no satisfaction, only a pittance in his hand and scorn on the road. Reaching the Blue Mountains was a relief to his people and to Thorin but they did not relish to live on the charity of others.

Their prince would not forget the glory and honour they came from. They established halls of their own in the west and raised themselves out of ruin, enough that many among Thorin's folk lost all desire to seek for their lost homeland again.

For their sake, and the sake of his siblings, Thorin spoke little of it - choosing to look ahead rather than live looking back. It did not stop the dreams or the memories, nor quell his anger. Never again will we be beggars, turned from the door like animals.

Oft did Thorin go among their smiths, seeking the familiarity of a hammer in the hand and the heat of the fire on his face.

But eyes the light of the Arkenstone had seen could not easily forget its radiance, nor find equal in dull and dusty gems. In his dreams, it lay buried beneath the dragon's paws, forever in the dark within walls once strewn with firelight.

The Arkenstone. The heart of the mountain, they called it. He held its light closely, tightly, and allowed his hope to live on in its glow.

(Sorry this one is shorter, I'm working tonight and don't have a lot of time to translate it!)

Scottish Gaelic Translation:

Bha Thòrin eòlach air àlainneachd, snas. Dh’fhaodadh e ag aithneachadh comharra fhìor cheàirde gu furasta. Ged a bha e òg fhathast ann am beatha nan troichean, dh’ionnsaich e ri taobh na goibhnean as motha a bh’ aca, anns na h-uaimhean ìsle, aosmhoire Erebor mus tàinig an nathair-sgiathach, agus dh’ionnsaich e am fior ciall chruitheachd.

Bha na ceàrdaichean gun sgil is nàistinn. Cha tug e toileachadh dha a bhith ag obair orra idir. Cha d’fhuair e dad ach priobaid na làimh agus tàir bhuapa air an rathad. Nuair a ràinig iad na Beanntan Ghuirm, b’ e faochadh don t-sluaigh aige agus ris fhèin, ach cha robhar measail air a bhith a’ fuirich air carantas.

Cha dhìochuimhneach am prionnsa a’ ghlòir is onaraich a bh’ aca. Thog iad tallachan dhaibh fhèin anns an Iar agus thog iad fhèin a-mach à lom-sgrios. B’ e sin gu leòr dha tòrr dhen t-sluaigh Thòrin a bhith gan caill am miann a bhith a’ sireach an tìr-dhàimh aca a-rithist.

Air an son, agus air a phiuthar is a bhràthair, cha bhruidhinn Thòrin mu dheidhinn gu tric. Choimhead e air adhart seach a bhith beò a’ coimhead air ais. Cha do stad sin na h-aislingean, na chuimhneachain, no chuir mùch air a fhuath. Cha bhith sinn nar dìolachan-dèirce a-riamh a-rithist, feumach air taic mar gun robh beathaichean a bh’ annainn.

Chaidh Thòrin gu tric a-measg na goibhnean aca, a’ sireach cinnt dhen t-òrd na làimh is teas an teine air an t-aodann. Ach cha b’ urrainn sùilean a chunnaic solas an Arkenstone dhìochuimhneachadh an deàrrsaidh no lorg an aon rud ann an leugan luaireanta, ràsanaiche. Anns na aislingean bha i adhlaicte fon smàg an nathair-sgiathach, anns an dorchadas, ann an tallachan a bha air lìonadh aon uair le solas an teine, gu sìorraidh brath.

An Arkenstone. Cridhe na Beinn, chuir iad oirre. Ghlèidh e an solas faisg, gu daingean, agus leig a dhòchas a bhith beò anns a deàrrsadh.

(Duilich gu bheil am fear seo nas beaga, tha mi air a bhith ag obair a-nochd agus cha robh àm gu leòr agam airson eadar-theangachadh a dhèanamh! Bidh mearachdan ann a sheo agus bheir mi sùil a-màireach air haha)

1st of October: Mountain / A' chiad latha dhen Dàmhair: A' bheinn

English Translation:

Since the day the dragon came, it seemed to Thorin he saw the mountain clearer with every step he took away from it, with each mile he and his family led the people of Erebor west, their backs to the mountain, its form in his mind grew firmer.

They toiled in strange lands, selling their skills like simple trades-folk instead of the masters they were. How low we are fallen, the young prince would seethe, still proud despite their loss.

Thorin's people had not been long in connecting Thror's hoard to the dragon's attack; the first to do so turned their backs on him, choosing to join their kin in the Iron Hills than suffer the Wilds under a leader they did not trust. Those who kept faith and remained, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, Thorin vowed to protect.

Even before the disappearance of Thrain, a shift came in Durin's Folk. They began to seek guidance from their prince, following his lead and rallying behind the dream he described for them: a new home in the west, far from hardship and strife where they may rebuild all that was lost.

But always in his mind lay the same thought, the mountain, the mountain, the mountain. In his dreams he looked on it from afar. Watching. Waiting. He would bring his people home, redeem his family for their grandfather's sickness that brought them all to ruin.

The birth of his sister's sons came in a time of peace. The older they grew, an ever-increasing choir that sung with the drums from the deep followed him....the mountain, the mountain, the mountain, they cried.

Oh the lonely mountain...

Scottish Gaelic translation:

Bhon dearbh là a thàinig an nathair-sgiathach, chunnaic Thorin a’ bheinn nas soilleire le gach ceum a thog e air falbh, leis a h-uile mìle a stiùiridh e is a theaghlach an t-sluagh Erebor gu Iar, an dromannan ris a’ bheinn, dh’fhàs a cumadh cruaidh anns na inntinn.

Dh’obraich iad ann an dùthchannan neònaiche, a’ reic na sgilean aca mar gun robhar luchd-malairt farasta seach na maighstirean a bhathar. Cho ìosal a tha sinn air tuiteam, smaoinich am prionnsa òg le fuath geur, fhathast moiteil a dh’aindeoin an calltachd.

Cha tug e fada gus an cur an t-sluaigh a h-uile rud ri chèile: sabaid an nathair-sgiathach agus tasgaidh Thror. Tionndaidh na ciad feadhainn an aghaidh an Rìgh agus thagh iad a bhith a’ dol gu na luchd-dàimh aca anns na Cnuic Iarainn, an àite a bhith a’ fulang san dùthaich fhiadhaich fo cheannard nach robh earb annta ann. Ghealladh Thòrin gun dìon e na feadhainn nach deach, a bha a dh’fhantainn agus a chumail creideas leotha.

Eadhon ron thuras Thràin nach tàinig e air ais bho fhathast, thàinig atharrachadh air na muinntir Durin. Thoiseach iad a’ sireadh stiùireadh bhon phrionnsa, a bhith ga leantainn agus a’ tighinn ri chèile air cùlaibh an aislinge a bha e ag iarraidh dhaibh: dachaigh ùr san Iar, fada air falbh bho dhorradas agus strì far am faodar a h-uile rud a bha air caill a thogail a-rithist.

Ach an-còmhnaidh anns na inntinn bha an aon smaoin, a’ bheinn, a’ bheinn, a’ bheinn. Anns na aislingean, choimhead e air fad às. A’ coimhead. A’ feitheamh. Thoireadh e an t-sluaigh aige dachaigh agus cuir ceart gach rud a rinn a sheanair a thoirt iad uile gu lom-sgrios.

Thàinig breith mhic a phiuthar ann an àm ciùin ach mar a dh’fhàs iad suas, dh’fhàs guth còisir anns na inntinn a bha a’ seinn leis na drumaichean às na h-uamhan. A’ bheinn, a’ bheinn, a’ bheinn, dh’èigh iad.

Ò a’ bheinn ònaranach...

Amon Rawya

(Tha mi fhathast ag ionnsachadh na Gàidhlig - bithibh snog XD)

Modern Girl In Middle Earth Fanfic Recs

I love a good Modern Girl In Middle Earth fic, so here are some recommendations. All of these fics are on Ao3.

🔳Nothing Gold Can Stay By getoffmyrichard🔳

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409063/chapters/66992233

Summary: A young woman is turned into an elf child, and struggles as memories of the past keep coming back. Takes place in the year 1005 of the Third Age. A found family fic. It's a very cute fic mainly focused on the OC and Erestor’s parent-child relationship. 

⚫Uncompleted work with 52 chapters and a part 2 with 7 chapters. Updates every other Monday.

Rating: General Audiences

Ships: Erestor/Glorfindel

🔳Oh, Son of A--- By StrivingArtist🔳

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822802/chapters/8523700

Summary: A woman is sent to MiddleEarth with no explanation and no knowledge of the languages there other than what's in the movies. Needless to say she’s pissed and is going to keep Thorin’s company alive even if he’s a jerk who makes her curse in a way that makes sailors cry. Takes place during The Hobbit. A Fix-It fic. 

⚫Completed work with 37 chapters with a completed part 2 with 2 chapters.

Warning: The OC curses a LOT. There are also references to the weird side of fanfiction. There is also sexual content in later chapters. SUPER vulgar.

Rating: Mature

Ships: Fili/OFC ▪ Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield ▫ Kíli/Tauriel ▪ Dwalin/Ori ▫  Dwalin/Nori ▪

🔳Renacida By seeing_blue🔳

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689715/chapters/41726621

Summary: A woman is sent to Middle Earth and is determined to get home. POC OFC. Some angst due to homesickness, typical Middle Earth things, and the OC’s past. Semi-Slow Burn mainly focuses on the friendship and love felt between characters. 

⚫Completed work with 43 chapters with an uncompleted part 2 that has 4 chapters.

Rating: Mature

Ships: Fili/OFC

I hope you enjoy it. Part 2 is coming soon. Happy readings!🤍

So I am sick and I am in bed just chilling and I just woke up from dreaming. I dreamt that Benedict Cumberbatch Smaug found himself an Indian apothecary. And was all like I’m gonna take it over it I like what they sell. And I’m thinking opioids? Well they aren’t an apothecary they are a candy store like honey dukes in Harry Potter or those old Timey soda shop/ general stores/ pharmacies. So now I just have this picture in my head of Smaug with a horde of candy every color of the rainbow Scrooge McDucking it and he has the biggest silliest grin on his face. I’ll be honest this would make a pretty good crack one shot fanfiction. I guess If anyone writes it tag me please.