#garden patch hobbits

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

👀

 Hobbits have secrets. A lot of secrets and some of them only a few knew. Bilbo knew this well. His first time returning from an adventure, from Erebor he found himself dragged off by the Clerics who sat him down and interrogated him. They asked him question after question, demanded answers for everything. And in the end, they discovered some secrets were kept from Bilbo. 

 “Why were you never told of Ciran?” the head Cleric demanded. “Your father stated he told you!”

 “I don’t know.” Bilbo told her. “What is Ciran?” Yet they would not answer. Instead they shook their heads and whispered. They looked at him with pain in their eyes and each told him they were sorry. 

 Bilbo never quite got an answer out of them. Though he found his feet walking to their smials and their halls often. Some Clerics would sob upon seeing him. Others would scurry away. A few though spoke with him.

 “Your aunt almost was one of us,” Cleric Honeysuckle told him one day while she tended the healing garden. It was three years before Bilbo would become the guardian for Frodo and he’d wandered over to see if they would be willing to talk. Honeysuckle put him to work braiding rope for some of the plants. 

 “My aunt?” Bilbo asked. “Which one?” Hilidgard? She died before her majority after all, it would make sense. 

 “No.” Honeysuckle shook her head. “Ruby Chubb.”

 “Aunt Ruby?” Bilbo asked as he felt a sharp pang in his heart. It was not the first nor would it be the last time he wished he’d told his dwarves of his great-grandmother, Rose Chubb who found her Heart Match in a Darrowdam. Who laid with her love in her garden and through that love had three daughters grow. Ruby, Daisy and Adamanta. 

 He liked to think they’d hear how Hobbits had children and would understand why they kept it secret. Men were strange and attacked those they felt were different. Bilbo also liked to think that they would find the ending to the story just as sad, for one day Rose awoke and said to her daughters that their other mother died bearing a brother for them. She passed minutes after, unable to live with her Heart Match gone.

[sapphoismymuse]

sam, looking back and forth between frodo, bilbo, and the drawing of thorin

sam: hey mister bilbo is there something you’re not telling me-

sam, reading bilbo’s book: “well now, i’m sure he had a very nice voice, but that’s hardly a reason to go on an adventure with someone you just met”

sam: turns page to an illustration of thorin, with his dark hair and blue eyes

sam: “understandable, good for you mister bilbo”

[porphyriosao3]

Day 15 - Craft

Bilbo was aware - had been aware - that there were all sorts of conversations going on in the mountain to which he in particular was not privy. Periodically someone would go to speak to (i.e., shout at) Thorin where he wandered amongst the piles of gold, for example. Often the hobbit came around corners to find a small huddle of dwarves muttering together, and they always stopped and stared as he went by. It had only gotten worse since Thorin had given him this ridiculous armor.

One night, things seemed to come to a head. He approached the main dining area to overhear "... well, with all due respect Lord Balin, this has gotten ridiculous." Coming from, of all dwarves, Dori! Bilbo hated to eavesdrop but found himself melting into the shadows nearby all the same. "Even in the Blue Mountains, for things to have gone this far without..."

"Yes, Dori, I know, I know," Balin groaned. "I don't think anyone foresaw the shirt." There was a pause, as though Balin were thinking. "You know a dwarf his whole lifetime, and still he can surprise you."

"The point remains," Dori continued in a just-so tone of voice, "we know none of the information necessary for the next steps. Also," he paused, 'there's the matter of the Mastery." None of this left Bilbo any the wiser, but Balin's response was lost to the ages as Nori's hand landed on the hobbit's shoulder from a patch of darker shadow that Bilbo would have sworn couldn't contain a dwarf.

"Well, hello, Bilbo," he said loudly, practically dragging him into the room and leaving the other two staring in surprise. "We wondered where you'd got to. Dangerous place, shouldn't wander too far in here." His cocked eyebrow brought a flush to Bilbo's face. Bad enough to eavesdrop but even worse to be caught!

"Yes indeed," Balin said with a smile as false as a cat's promise. Dori sat nearby as focused on Bilbo as though he were the only thing in the room. Odd. "Bilbo... I just realized we know hardly anything about your life in the Shire! We saw your lovely home, of course," making all of Bilbo's social sensors turn to point due trouble, "but tell me, what did you do for a living?"

"I beg your pardon," Bilbo said by habit before remembering where he was. Perhaps that wasn't quite as rude a question among dwarves. He reminded himself forcefully that he wasn't in the Shire at the moment. As though the bare cold stone walls and floors didn't give that away! "As a rule, gentlehobbits don't talk about such things, I must say," he continued, provoking a wince from Dori and Balin both.

"Understood, my apologies if I was inappropriate," Balin faux-chuckled. Really, Bilbo thought, he might try a little harder. Even a faunt wouldn't be fooled! "What I mean is... do you make things? What was your craft? Metal, wood, stone? Gems? Were you a merchant?" This was entirely too much.

"Wha... you... what?" Bilbo spluttered. "You think I'm some sort of tradesman? I fear there is some sort of confusion going on. Perhaps I should leave you to your discussion." He drew himself up. The nerve!

Dori sighed and leaned in. "You are not a dwarf, and we are not hobbits," the old dwarf said primly, reminding Bilbo yet again that the rules might be different here. "Our intention is not to offend, but to learn, Bilbo. All dwarves have a craft. I am a tailor, as is Nori. Bifur and Bofur are miners, Bombur a tinker, the princes are a gemcutter and weaponsmith respectively, and so forth. It is how we..." here his eyes cut to Balin, whose expression spoke of worry. "... how we understand the nature of those around us."

"Oh," Bilbo said blankly, glancing from face to face. "Er... well..." He racked his brain. "I spent much of the day gardening and cooking, if that helps. Quite social, don't you know, always running about," he chuckled and realized he was laughing alone. Honestly, everyone looked so focused! This was a very strange conversation. "Perhaps you could say I was a cook." Balin was already shaking his head.

"That's a task, not a true craft," he said, provoking a snort of disgust from Bilbo. The hobbit would have argued but Balin was pressing on. "What do you make? Anything durable, anything that lasts."

"Had a lot of books in his house," Nori said while staring at the wall, acting completely disinterested in the whole goings on. "Papers on the desk showed a nice hand, though far too Elvish."

"You went through my papers!" Bilbo shouted. "Nori!"

"A scribe!" Balin announced with a beaming smile. Dori nodded, face a picture of satisfaction. "Did you write for others?"

"Well, I suppose I occasionally wrote a letter for someone or read mail to others without their letters, but..." Bilbo said to universal smiles. "I did compose a book for the children of silly tales from the Shire, but I hardly think..."

Ori, who had wandered in midway through the discussion, looked over. "You wrote a new book?" He said with eyebrows raised. "By yourself?"

"Preserving the lore of his people," Balin said. "Very clear. That's settled." Dori nodded, his face a picture of satisfaction. The whole group broke up at once, leaving Bilbo more confused than ever. As Nori stood to leave, though, he seemed startled to find a hobbit at his elbow.

"Let's talk about the propriety of going through someone else's desk and things, shall we?" Bilbo said, a steely smile not making the dwarf feel comfortable. It was a smile that would have fit perfectly on Thorin.

"Oh yes, you'll do just fine," Nori laughed, leaving Bilbo flummoxed. Curse the dwarves for their confusing ways!

[meganlpie]

Growing Love

Based on this request:  I do have a story request for your the hobbit book. I was thinking of possibly the reader staying at Beorn’s and the grow to love each other overtime and they eventually admit it to each other.

Here you are! My apologies for the wait. *Beorn is NOT mine and is the property of JRR Tolkien.*

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight angst(?), first time writing Beorn. Reader is described as being shorter than Beorn. Beorn is theorized to be anywhere from 7'3"(220.98cm) to 12'(365.76cm) tall.

Pairings: Beorn x reader

When you had first accidentally stumbled upon the house in the woods, you thought you would die. After all, there was a giant, great bear right on your heels. You managed to find a small space to hide where the bear couldn't get you. A few hours later, after the bear had left and you calmed down, you were approached again by a very large man. While you were intimidated, he did not seem to want to hurt you. In fact, upon hearing your story, he offered you a place to stay.

       You grew to enjoy working alongside Beorn. You cooked together,  took care of the livestock and ponies together, and kept bees together. But your favorite thing to do with Beorn was work in his garden. For such a large being, Beorn was as gentle as could be with his garden. He talked to his plants, nurturing them the way a parent would a child. He taught you about the various things he grew and how to care for them. 

Time passed as you stayed with Beorn while you were trying to figure out where to go and what to do. Some days, you felt like a burden to the skin-changer. Still he never said anything like that to you nor did it seem that he was tiring of your company. You often caught him staring at you in what appeared to be deep contemplation. Like you were a riddle he couldn’t solve. One day, you would figure out exactly what Beorn was thinking.

Beorn had given you your own patch of land to grow flowers alongside his crops. You were tending to those flowers one morning when you felt Beorn’s eyes on you again. “Is something wrong?” you asked him, straightening up. He cleared his throat as if he were embarrassed to be caught staring. He paused for a moment, contemplating his words carefully. Given his usual brash nature, you were happy to wait for him to get his thoughts together.

“I have discovered something. Something unusual,” he replied after a bit. You cocked your head to the side as you gazed up at his face. “Oh?” He nodded and brought a hand up to his chin, the manacle on his wrist jingling slightly. “The thought of you…leaving. It does not please me. At all. I find myself getting rather angry at it. I had heard of feelings like this, but did not believe in them.” 

His confession threw you for what felt like hours. His intense gaze never left your face as he watched you take in what he’d said. “I…are you saying that you care for me?” You could have smacked yourself at how unsure you sounded. He nodded once but then his brows furrowed. “Perhaps care is not a strong enough word. I believe what I feel for you is deeper. Much deeper than simply caring.”

You felt your entire body heat up. Was he really saying what you thought he was? “Beorn? Are you telling me that you might love me?” He thought for a moment before confirming your words. “Yes. My love for you has grown, I believe, much like the blooms you have tended to. A tiny idea, a seed, of what life could be with you by my side for the rest of our days began this and now, like your flowers, I feel something blossoming and maturing in my heart that I have long thought was incapable of such things. And now I need to know if the same can be said of you. Do you-Could you…love me?

A smile crept its way to your lips before you could stop it. Beorn simply stared at you until you realized that you hadn’t answered him after nearly a minute. “Beorn, of course I could love you. It is possible that I already do and have been denying myself the joy of it, thinking you would eventually tire of me and I would have to leave.” You removed your gardening gloves and slowly reached over to take one of Beorn’s hands in yours.

“We could live a thousand ages and I would not tire of you,” he admitted slowly. You beamed up at him as tears of joy pricked at your eyes. Beorn smiled down at you but suddenly stiffened. Your brows furrowed as he straightened up and sniffed the air. “What is it?” you asked in confusion. 

“Orcs. Get inside, bar the door, and don’t come out until I return.” You knew better than to argue. Instead, you merely agreed and Beorn turned to leave. Before he got too far, you called out to him. He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I love you,” you confessed. He smiled again. “And I you. Now go. I shall return.” You quickly ran inside, the door barely closed behind you when you heard the growling of a great bear. “Be safe,” you whispered. You had no idea that, very soon, a company of dwarves, a wizard, and hobbit would change your lives completely.

(a/n: I hope I did Beorn justice. I have one more request for him on my list)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @esoltis280 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Tolkien Tags: @jotink78 @thealbersclan @evyiione @legolaslovely @justcallmecinammon @wingedlandwasteland

[midnightcowboyarthur]

We Both Know - Aragorn x Reader

Aragorn x Reader Fanfic

Warnings/Content : longing, angst, flirting, terms of endearment

Summary : Aragorn arrives to ask you, a studious woman with a love for the land around you, to help the Fellowship find how to best navigate the coming leg of their journey. When Boromir shows interest in you, Aragorn has some...feelings about it.

A/N : This is currently a stand alone fic, but I will be continuing it with the hopes of turning it into a mini series. Enjoy!

Word Count : 1.7k

You sat quietly in your small cottage, the trees rustling gently in the breeze as you mend your garden apron. There was a hole in the floral-patterned front pocket where you gathered the produce from your small front garden. In front of you, various maps and quills were spread out on your desk. You studied maps religiously, and knew the land in and out. You breathed it, you lived it, and you loved it. You loved the feeling of the dirt beneath your toes as you gathered carrots from the garden patch, and at the moment you enjoyed the quiet peace that came with mending your personal items. 

You finished up your apron and set it on the desk, flexing your neck side to side as you finally looked up. The strain was a bit bothersome, but you had suffered worse and were not too worried about it. Standing up, you bring the apron to the back door, hanging it gently from the golden doorknob. You hummed to yourself, shuffling into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. Tea sounded nice, and you searched through your cabinet for the perfect blend. 

Living in between Lorien and Fangorn Forest was interesting at times, but your small cottage was cozy, quaint, and perfect enough for just you. You loved watching the birds and rabbits, and you loved it when you saw some of the elves out hunting. You pulled out a green tea blend and placed it into your mug. You startle slightly when the kettle whistles, so deep in thought you almost forgot you were waiting for that high pitch. You pour the hot water into your mug, bringing it up to your lips to blow lightly on your beverage when you hear a knock on the door. 

You furrow your brow, curious about who could be at the door. Moving to your faded blue front door, you set your mug of tea on your desk as you move to the front. You open the door, surprised at who you find there. 

“Lossë nin.” He says, quietly. You blink. And then you blink again.

“Aragorn?” You breathe. You glance over his shoulder, noticing a ragtag group of men standing across the front garden, near your gate. Your eyes slide back to Aragorn, your eyebrow raising. 

“We need your assistance, y/n.” He says, and you motion for him to come in. You tilt your head at the group, then motion with your arm for them to follow. 

After introductions are made and you are all settled into your small, warm living room, you look around at the group. 

“We would be honored if you would assist us in finding the best route forward.” Aragorn says. You cannot believe that he would even think he would have to formally ask you. You nod deeply, quickly standing to grab the large map you keep for navigational purposes. 

“You do not need to ask, Aragorn.” You say, spreading the map out in front of the men. You notice the hobbits gather close near your elbows, too small to see around the larger men and Gimli. You run your fingers over the weathered map, feeling as if your fingers were following a groove that had been traced there from excessive use by your seemingly endless studies. 

“We are here.” You point. “You will have to take the boats to keep along Nen Hithoel, and go along the hills there, Emyn Muil.” You move your shoulders slightly. “This will be the best path for you, seeing as you have the Halflings here.” You smile down at them, and the ones called Pippin and Merry grin back at you enthusiastically. Your eyes travel back to Aragorn, who is nodding silently, looking down at the map. His dark hair falls forward, concealing his face. 

You have known him so long, and yet you have not seen him in quite a few years. You had spent every moment together when he was last around. You bit your lip at this memory, remembering the upset you had felt and expressed to him then. He had left, leaving your heart aching. You were not quite sure why it had hurt so, it was not like Aragorn was a lover. He was just a friend. 

Aragorn nods once more. “Yes. This is what we will do. Many thanks to you, y/n.” He looks up at you, blue eyes sparkling. He gives you a small smile. You smile back, then look around at the rest of the Fellowship. 

“Well gentlemen, you must stay for rest and food. I will not hear of you leaving without. I have just made a lovely mutton stew.” You swore you could hear the Halfling’s stomachs rumble. 

“Beautiful and hospitable!” roars Gimli. “Where have ye been hiding this lass, Aragorn?” You laugh openly, amused at the dwarf.  Aragorn shakes his head at Gimli, as if to say “You are too much”. 

Boromir claps a hand on Gimli’s shoulder. “Beautiful indeed, and I am sure she is a delightful cook as well.” He smiles at you, the glint in his eye almost mischievous. 

You raise an eyebrow in return, waving your hand. “Who? Me? I am quite flattered, Boromir.” 

At this, Aragorn clenches his jaw shut tightly. You pretend not to notice. 

After supper, you watch Boromir wrestle with the Halflings, Pippin and Merry. You find it sweet. He treated them as if they were younger brothers. Legolas was whittling quietly while he listened to Gimli speak about dwarf women and what they were like. Frodo and Sam were next to you, looking at your garden. Sam was a gardener himself, and he was delighted at all of the different produce you grew. You told him to take what he wanted, so they may have food for their journey. 

You did not know where Aragorn was. Boromir glances up at you and smiles, and you smile back. 

Boromir makes his way over to you. “Lossë nin.” He says, mimicking what Aragorn had called you earlier. Legolas turns his head at this, brow raised. 

You laugh lightly, unable to tell him that term is something Aragorn and Aragorn only called you. You hear Aragorn scoff, and you realize he was leaning against your front door. He pushes himself off the worn, weathered door, and stalks around the backside of your cottage, where the flowers rested. You blink. You look at everyone else, who in turn stare at you. You clear your throat and turn, quickly following after Aragorn. As you disappear around the moss covered stone wall, you hear whispers. 

“That’s a term of endearment, Boromir.” Legolas whispers. You bite your lip, the urge to speak to Aragorn growing prominently. 

Aragorn stands among the flowers behind your house, silent. You walk to his side, staring forward just as he does. 

“What is it you want?” He says, and you turn your head at this. 

“I do not have want for anything, seeing as this is my house.” You retort. He closes his eyes briefly at this, then turns to you. 

“My apologies. I do not like it when others call you by the name I affectionately gave you.” 

You narrow your eyes. You did not know why this bothered him so, but his apparent possession over you had something bubbling in your chest at the moment. 

“How affectionate was the giving of this nickname? I do not find myself bound to you.” You say, your nostrils flaring. Aragorn’s jaw tenses again and he looks away from you briefly. 

“We both know that I cannot be bound to you in the way that you wish, y/n.” He clenches his fist, and you can tell he is trying to control his emotions. 

“You cannot or you will not?” You challenge. You did not know what had come over you. Perhaps it was the years missed, perhaps it was because he acted with jealousy and you secretly enjoyed that. Before Aragorn has the chance to answer, you move to another topic. “I have decided that I will accompany you on the next leg of this journey.” 

Aragorn fully turns towards you now. “You cannot.” 

“You cannot tell me-”

“I can and I will.” He says without letting you finish. He steps closer to you, his blue eyes blazing as he gazes at you. You look back at him defiantly, refusing to back down. He usually did not get this close to you. 

“No. You cannot. I am the person to bring along. I know the route better than anybody. I am a valuable resource.” You state calmly, looking up at him. He leans in, his lips mere inches from yours. 

“You are more than a resource to me, lossë nin.” He glances down at your lips, his eyes trailing up to meet yours. You swallow, becoming weak in the knees. 

You steel your e/c eyes on him and give your response. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I think you know that.” 

“We both know.” He says, leaning just slightly closer again. “But I cannot lose you.” 

“It is not only about you, Aragorn.” You say, your tone becoming slightly heated. “I am able to make my own decisions, and if I choose to accompany the Fellowship as your guide, I shall.” 

He shakes his head before you finish what you are saying. He is sighing, exasperated. “You…always so stubborn, y/n.” And then he cups his large hand around the back of your neck, and oh. Aragorn is kissing you. You kiss back, tasting the sweat and tears and hardship that has brought him to this point. You slide your hands up his chest, your delicate hands cradling his face. He deepens the kiss slightly, his arms encircling your waist and pulling you close. All too soon, the kiss is over and your head is reeling. You step back from him, breathless. You do not give him the chance to continue holding you. 

“This changes nothing. I will be accompanying you when dawn breaks.” You inform him. He looks at you. But he doesn’t look disappointed, he looks almost peaceful, as if your lips had been just what he had required on this long journey. 

“Please.” He says, as you start to walk away, back to the others. “Do not let Boromir call you as such, again, lossë nin.” 

You tilt your head. “Perhaps he can bestow his own endearment upon me.” You retort, enjoying the opportunity to toy with Aragorn, who always seemed so stoic. You do not give him a chance to respond before you return to your front garden, wondering where this Fellowship would take you. 

-----------------------

translations

Lossë nin - my blossom

[thescrapwitch]

Snippet Someday

Thank you @emyn-arnens for tagging me! Here's a little bit from my WIP Where Love Resides, in which a sentient Imladris chats about its history with a certain gardener-hobbit:

An intruder? No. There was no foul twist of the enemy upon its soul, no rotten reeking of dark magic or Mordor dust on its feet. This one was all salt and sea water, dripping with ancient grief. This one was shadow silent as he walked up and down the halls, and if we had been an elf then perhaps such silence would have worked.

We are not an elf. We are a legion of floors and windows and low burning candles, of bright coloured tapestries and honey coloured walls. We see. We know. We followed him up and down, each door ready to shut tight if he made a move to harm those we loved.

But all he did was sing a low, mournful tune as he wandered. Poor elf, so sad and lonely, whose bones were etched with weariness. We decided that Elrond should see him. Elrond, after all, can fix anything and everything. Can have a window repaired or a hole patched or a broken bone mended. We lit the hallways leading towards Elrond’s room, a warm invitation.

This way, we said, though he was too wrapped up in his song to hear us. Come this way, sad elf, and be made well again.

He did not listen. Instead, he crept further into the shadows, walking the entirely wrong way, and out into the gardens.

Oh no, we said, You’re not leaving that way. You’re not leaving at all, not until you’ve seen Elrond. It has happened, in the past, that very sick patients have forgotten where they are and tried to flee. We have always been excellent at catching such runaways. Shifting the floors, locking the doors, throwing up walls where there’d once been open space. "Like a sheep-dog herding a flock," a man once described us, "making sure none of the lambs became lost."

This singing elf was no exception.

Tagging: @lordgrimwing @chthonion @leucisticpuffin @zannolin @tethysresort @tilion-writes and whoever else would like to join in!

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

🌿ESFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Lawful Good 🔮Leo Sun, Cancer Moon, Scorpio Rising

SFW🌿

・As a half-elf, you weren’t welcomed into the Elvish land, culture or customs. Your mother had been in love with an elf, and although they wanted to be together, he was killed in battle. 

・You know how to heal, energise, calm and hurt. Herbs are your speciality. And your cottage is full of them.

・Both inside and outside of your property, beings are instantly calmed once they step foot on your land

・You have bushes of lavender, a huge garden full of herbs and flowers. Even your own vegetable patch

・The fellowship had come looking for help

・You knew Gandalf because of his travels, and you were more than happy to aid the group

・Aragorn was very polite, and an absolute gentleman

・Pippin and Merry asked you nearly a million questions about your life, your work and way of living 

・Legolas was absolutely charmed by you. Although he didn’t show it, he was delighted by your knowledge. You often verbally sparred with him at dinnertime. And the whole table would laugh at your jests

・But your dog, Findis (you call him Fin), would not leave one member of the group alone. Fin’s brown tail couldn’t stop wagging whenever Boromir was around. 

・And you had always taken Fin as a good judge of character - well, one of the best actually. 

・There were many late nights, when you were up, milling about the cottage 

・And Boromir would wake, finding you outside, setting up things to charge underneath the moonlight 

・It was those moments, when you were alone, that you got to know each other

・And each night he would wake, watching you, asking if you needed any help

・For the most part you declined help, but said he could stay to give you some company 

・When it was time for the fellowship to leave, Boromir was sad to say goodbye.  

・And without thinking, he promised that he would return

・When the fellowship left, each had a potion, protection charm and/or knowledge on how to heal themselves

・Months later, Boromir returned

・When he returned, his smile was so big it gave you butterflies

・You knew he was in line to inherit a kingdom, so you didn’t expect much to come from your friendship. 

・Boromir had spent a lot of time at your cottage. Sleeping in a spare room, or on the lounge. 

・The friendship was morphing into something romantic. And the desire was so strong that Boromir had to leave for 2 weeks. He couldn’t kiss you without promising life with you.

・So he went to his father, and told him he was going to marry you.

     “A witch? Who lives in a cottage on the outskirts of a kingdom? You cannot marry them. I forbid it.” 

  “Then the crown will go to Faramir. I will not marry anyone else.” 

・And so ... he came back to you. 

・Boromir knelt on one knee and pulled a ring from his pocket. 

    “Will you do the honour of marrying me, Y/N?” 

・You married. And it was a glorious affair. 

・It was supposed to be small. But he invited all he knew: the Hobbits, the Elves, the Dwarves. 

・And they came and witnessed your marriage and celebrated after. 

・Life with Boromir was difficult at first, you didn’t want to leave your home. And he had responsibilities to honour. 

・Yet somehow you both make it work. 

・Boromir is the first to wake, always 

・And he makes you a herbal tea and writes you a note if you do not wake in time to see him off 

・He always comes to you for advice 

・And likes to bring you to counsel meetings whenever they’re held

・Sometimes you get odd looks from the townsfolk but that will wear off in time. They just need to get to know you

・Fin loves that Boromir is around permanently. He always takes Fin for walks (which makes him love the tall human even more but that’s not really possible since he already adores him)

・Helps you with spells; foraging for the right ingredients, buying you whatever you don’t have in town etc

・Boromir likes when you cup his cheek and rub your thumb over parts of his face, especially his lips

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: My love 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Quality Time and Acts of Service

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Crazy In Love by the Midnite String Quartet

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

  ✧ You Fell First But He Falls Harder

  ✧ Looks Scary But Is Actually Soft (Boromir) x Looks Soft But Could Kill You (You)

  ✧ “You wear the pants in this relationship” (You say to Boromir) x “Oh I wish, I cannot control you at all” (Boromir replies, always with a laugh)

I just want to say thank you to @leniabranch for giving me insight into each of the LotR characters. She did it in her own time and did not have to at all, but it helped me so much in writing for these characters. So thank you! I think Boromir is one of my favourite characters now 💗

[obsidiancreates]

As My Friend Has Stood By Me, So Shall I (Part 16)

Heart Softer Than Gold (And Worth More Than Any Gem)

It does make his smoke rings invisible, as far as he can tell. At least, when he sneaks into the treasury past a watchful and worrying Bifur and begins to smoke, and Bifur pokes his head in as Bilbo accidentally kicks a few coins while swinging his feet, no notice seems to be taken. So Bilbo sits in the golden light, imagining it to be the sunset of The Shire, and smokes.

“Spring should be coming in soon, if I have my days right,” he mumbles. His voice echoes, just slightly, though he can’t tell if it’s the treasury or the faded and dim world he inhabits whenever he wears his Luck. “Maybe I’ll get some nice sunlight then. Start a garden.”

The image of a small hobbit garden, full of flowers and fruits and prize-winning tomatoes, set at the entrance of Erebor, well it makes him laugh. A soft, warm laugh, and this sound he’s sure is carried by the golden trinkets and towering ceilings all across the treasury. He quickly clams his mouth shut, sitting wide-eyed and very still.

He peeks just behind him, seeing Bifur pop his head back in. The axe gone, Bifur now has a notable chunk missing from his forehead- and a noticeable chunk of Westron in its place. It’s not always available to him, and his vocabulary is limited, but there’s Westron nonetheless.

“Bilbo?” he calls out.

Bilbo keeps quiet.

Bifur waits a moment longer before ducking back out and, by the sounds of it, calling for someone in Khuzdul. The question of who is answered a dozen smoke rings later, when Bofur and Bombur both enter in full and begin poking around.

“You don't’ think he’s hearin’ things, do you?” Bofur glances back at the entrance. “I’m worried about that’ axe missin’.”

“I thin’ he’ll be okay,” Bombur assures, checking in an archway just below where Bilbo actually sits. “If anyone coil’ sneak in here, i’s Bilbo.”

“Aye, true.” Bofur peers down at the depths of the gold piles. “But why? I mean, I know why we all think why, but why now? And why’s it like this?”

“Maybe ‘e’s ‘omesick.” Bombur tosses a coin into the piles, and listens for the sounds of any large shifting or scrambling by any hiding hobbits. “Lots of ‘ills in The Shire.”

“Not the same, though.” 

Not the same.

It’s not the same.

What is he thinking? Of course they’re worried he wants back in here, he should be worried that he wants back in! The light isn’t a Shire Sunset, the mounds are rolling hills of green, the clinking of coins isn’t birdsong or crickets chirping- and while he still believes he can find home anywhere, he can find it anywhere. And it certainly doesn’t have to be here!

Bilbo gets to his feet and sneaks off, out of the treasury and through the halls- perhaps in a smaller mountain it would feel busy and full, but as it stands Erebor is very large, and after The Battle the dwarves number very few. He slips through easily, without bumping into anyone, and out the front entrance to the mountain. He doesn’t dare look at the moat as he passes it, going straight for the first patch of grass he sees- along a gentle slope still wet from a thin layer of freshly melted snow. 

He takes off The Ring- it sticks for a moment, despite how perfectly, purely, how made for him the fit has been since the moment he’d picked it up, a wonderment that Gollum could wear it at all with fingers so much skinner- and with that tug he swiftly conceals it in his palm and lays down, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

The sunlight is still weaker than he’s used to, but stronger than before. The grass is short and stiff, but alive beneath his weight. The thrush are quiet and the only birdsong is the cawing of ravens, but they caw in joy all the same. And for all the trouble the moat had caused him, the stream that flows from it babbles merrily- the most familiar sound of all.

“There,” he sighs. “Much more like home.”

He falls asleep out there, basking in the sun. He wouldn’t have realized he’d fallen asleep except for Dwalin shaking him awake.

“One o’ the lads spotted you from their post,” he growls. “You’ve given Thorin a scare worse than before.”

Bilbo yawns and stretches. “I’ll go and apologize, then.”

“Ye better.” That scowl is one Bilbo hadn’t been on the receiving end of in well over a year- maybe closer to two now. 

But the irritation of before, it’s like the sunlight melted it away with the snow. Bilbo uses his free hand to pat Dwalin’s shoulder, and his closed fist to stifle another yawn. He’d never been a regular partaker of afternoon naps in the past, but perhaps he should become one.

Bilbo walks inside slowly, hesitating at the entrance.

Back into the deep. Out of the fresh air, the sounds of growing and living things.

Out of the sunlight. 

A chill settles over him almost as soon as he steps inside. Stupid of him to get his lended clothes wet. He does his best to ignore it and walks to the room temporarily set up for Thorin’s meetings with Dain, Dain’s generals, and any other important figure who might need to speak with The King Under The Mountain. There’s raised voices inside, and Bilbo waits a good distance away from the door for it to finish up.

Dain comes out first, seething and whispering in spit-riddled Khuzdul to a red-faced and puffing general. They pass by Bilbo without even a glance, like he’s still wearing The Ring- but no, it’s just clutched in his hand. 

Thorin exits last, looking worn and weary- and then his eyes fall on Bilbo. Always, they  find Bilbo. When few others are capable- or care to look- he finds Bilbo.

The realization chases away the chill. But Thorin’s eyes are stormy as he marches to Bilbo. The hobbit braces for some kind of kingly tirade- and instead Thorin drags him into a hug.

“I never mean to drive you away from us,” Thorin breathes into Bilbo’s curls. “I’m trying to protect you as best I can, from an enemy I can’t fight.”

Bilbo can’t speak. His mouth hangs open, his eyes are wide, and a sound like a whine-hum escapes him. He’s still as stone for a moment, before pressing his arms around Thorin in return.

“There’s no enemy, Thorin. I’m alright.”

“Would you believe me if I said so to you? After disappearing for hours, avoiding my friends, skipping my meals?”

Bilbo swallows. “We both know I wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t. You didn’t. You’ll forgive me for following in your footsteps.”

Bilbo finds his hands flat against Thorin’s back, The Ring pressed against Thorin’s armor instead of clutched tightly in his own fist. He lets it stay that way.

“Where were you?”

“Just outside. I needed some sun, that’s all. I fell asleep by accident.”

Thorin doesn’t release the hug yet- nor does Bilbo. 

“Is that all this is? Homesickness? A need for nature?”

“Not as simple as that. As much as I wish it were.” Bilbo’s voice is quiet with the second sentence. “But it’s a start.”

Finally, Thorin pulls away- just slightly, still close enough for Bilbo’s arms to easily slide from Thorin’s back to his biceps, The Ring following the movement and keeping to Bilbo’s palm almost unnaturally smoothly.

“Wars always take from us those we thought we’d saved- warriors and healers who’ve seen too much, and never stop seeing it. Don’t let us lose you to this.”

“I won’t, Thorin. You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay- in this mountain, in this world, by your side.” Bilbo’s ears twitch at his own words. “The-the side of The Company as a whole, I mean.”

Thorin smiles, just a little. “Of course. The Company as a whole.”

Bilbo nods, not making eye contact, and slips his hands back to his side- he closes his fist around The Ring so smoothly and so quickly that Thorin doesn’t even notice the movement. “Well, I ah… suppose I should try to prevent my thoughts from dwelling, anymore. I know there’s not much I can do to help here but I’ll try to find something.”

“I have no doubts you’ll succeed. I’ve known many dwarves with twice your confidence and half your capabilities.”

“Ha.” The laugh is less a true laugh, and more a… sound. An obligation. Bilbo makes it out of habit, staring into Thorin’s eyes. He thinks Blue might be favorite color.

[heavenangelblog]

as promised, according to the past post, movie list:

my favorite action movies:

Straż nocna and Straż dzienna

Skyscraper

Die hard

two old Hellboys

Ice road

Monster hunter

Priest

Unleashed

The darkest hour

Maze runner

Kick ass (only the first one actually and it's my guilty pleasure, don't judge me)

Valerian

Duel 1971

Watchmen and bunch of Marvel movies

Rollerball

Hunger games

Returner

Independence day (sentiment)

Ghostbusters

Tim Burton's Batman

Demolition man

Red

Wild wild west

Tank girl

old Twister (new one is a disgrace)

Free guy

Charlie's angels

Operation dumbo drop

Arsene Lupin

The silent hour

Jurassic park/world

Uncharted

Indiana Jones

The rocketeer

Robin Hood 2018 (it's a secret why)

Salt

Mad Max

Speed

Blue thunder

old Judge Dredd

Equilibrium

The fugitive

The purge?

biography or document:

Napoleon (even tho it was disturbing, it's worth watching for few scenes)

Extremely wicked, shockingly evil and vile

Iris

Frida

Marina Abramovic

Sayat nova

Grey gardens

Dangerous minds

Bright Lights: Starring Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds

Purple rain

Girl interrupted

The Ron Clark story

Advanced style

Queen: days of our lives

Królik po berlińsku

Cleveland abduction

comedies:

Addams Family

Elvira

What we do in the shadows

Buster Keaton movies

3 men and a baby/little lady

My big fat greek wedding (last one wasn't the best tbh)

Les nouvelles aventures d'Aladin

The first wives club

Freaky friday

Mean girls

Maverick

Galaxy quest

Ciacho (sorry not sorry)

Sydney White

Sahara

*wondering what it all means about me, probably nothing good but paints a pretty good picture of my humor

dramas:

The last legion

Marrowbone

Alice, darling

Klass

Shutter island

Judex 1963

Secretary

Cloud Atlas

A patch of blue

Truman show

Times square

The monuments men

The fall 2006

Robinson Crusoe 2003 (the french version)

Renaissance man

Race the sun

Frantic

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

Breakfast club

Hello my name is Doris

Little miss sunshine

En Duva satt på en gren och funderade på tillvaron

The beniker gang (if someone has a link where I can watch it - I beg you)

Click

To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar

Under the Tuscan sun

Flight of the phoenix

Christmas movies:

Santa and Pete

It's a wonderful life

Grinch

Elf

fantasy movies:

Hobbit and LOTR (including animated one)

Krull

The watchers

Red riding hood 2011

Dungeons and dragons

Gods of Egypt

Kate & Leopold

Paradise Hills

The princess bride

Warcraft

Fire and ice

The scorpion king and all Mummies

League of extraordinary gentlemen

The shadow 1994

Night at the museum

The 10th kingdom

surreal movies:

Blood tea and red strings

Meshes of the afternoon

Paprika

Destiny to order (also looking for a link)

This is me... now

The cell

Twin peaks: firewalk with me

romantic movies:

Red white and royal blue

Penelope

On - drakon

Stranger than fiction

A lot like love

Ode to joy

My policeman (but it's complicated)

Byoo-tee In-sai-deu

Five feet apart

Me before you

My monster

horrors and thrillers:

A quiet place

Bird box

Priest

Van Helsing

Last night in Soho

The lost boys

The village 2004

sci fi:

Star wars

John Carter

Atlas

Mortal engines

favorite shows:

High potential

From

Grotesquerie

Fallout

Heartstopper

Gen V

The crowded room

Into the night

Czterej pancerni i pies

Don Matteo

Call the midwife

first series of Stranger things and Orphan black

Buffy

My mad fat diary

Poirot

OITNB (but not to the very end)

TBBT

The Simpsons

United states of Tara

AHS Freak show

few episodes of Black mirror

The last of us

LOTR (mixed feelings about it)

[lingeringmirth]

IT LIIIIVES!

A Garden on the Mountain (4473 words) by Saraste Chapters: 5/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli/Kíli/Ori (Tolkien) Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien) Additional Tags: angstinshield, bagginshield, seedling babies, Angst, Mischief, Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Assassination Attempt(s), parentshield, babies grow in the earth, Hobbit Family Planning Lore, Gardening Summary: It's spring and there has been an unseasonal late frost. Everything in Bilbo's garden should be fine. It isn't.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I love the Cabbage Patch Hobbit trope and I found this super old AU in my drafts with Time Traveling!Bilbo who is a ‘Ciran’ which means he can make a garden where everyone can plant children and he's for the dwarves cause his great grandma’s soulmate was a Dwarf who is Bifur.

I also had bad Bungo solely cause I wanted Belladonna/Nori as I read the pairing once and went feral.

My brain is weird.

[tookishrogue]

ready now

a/n: for @toadstool-amongst-the-tulips! sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!!

pairing: none!

warnings: very brief mention of alcohol; implied depression

taglist: @blueberryrock, @to-be-frank-i-dont-care, @zalie, @scyllas-revenge, @justmemyselfandthefridge, @heckin-music-dork, @frodo-with-glasses!

Y/N wrinkled her brow and idly picked at a blade of grass, peeling sections of it apart and twisting the pieces together. After several minutes of this, she leaned against the trunk of the tree she'd been sitting under, the rough bark scraping against her back through her cotton dress. Even the grass seemed dull; spring hadn't quite taken hold of the terrain yet. Various shades of brown and gray painted the scene, a small handful of red buds on the trees providing the only source of bright, hopeful color; a whisper of spring in a barren, winter-worn world.

A soft, gentle voice broke the silence. “Y/N? You were saying?”

“Oh, sorry. I, er, don't remember.”

The russet-haired halfling shifted, turning to face his companion. Dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes; her bright smile had all but disappeared. “Is it bad again?”

“What?”

“Sorry for mentioning it, but you seem…gloomy. Is there anything I can do?” Worry crept into Pippin’s voice, his eyes fixed on her.

“Not really. Just one of those days, I guess.”

Pippin nodded and fell silent. The pair watched as the bare branches of dozens of trees swayed in the tepid spring wind. Silver clouds blanketed the sky, begrudgingly revealing only small patches of white sky. A songbird chirped in the distance, a short melody cutting the silence. Yellow and brown created an odd quilt-like pattern in the grass, only small portions brandishing a shining green hue. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and withdrew into her shawl in an attempt to shut out both the cold and the heavy mental fog she was experiencing. Pippin glanced over at her, his brows knitting together in worry. He leaned back again and rested his head against the tree, deep in thought.

After a moment, he stood and held out his hand. “Come on, I have an idea.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow and took it. He grinned and helped her up, excitedly rambling in his best Gollum impression in an odd attempt to cheer her up. The two walked back to her home, where he told her to change into her favorite, most comfortable outfit. As soon as she shut the door, he sprinted away, presumably to his own home. A short while passed and he returned, practically vibrating with glee. His telltale crooked grin and shining eyes told Y/N all she needed to know: the Took had something big planned.

The two walked wordlessly for a few minutes before Meriadoc Brandybuck turned up, nodding to each of them. Samwise Gamgee, who had been anxiously watching the trio from his garden up the road, abruptly set down the trowel and tulip bulbs he had been planting. Scrambling through his open gate, he adjusted his jacket and walked beside Y/N, mumbling a quick greeting as he matched her gait. After a few more moments, Frodo Baggins slipped into the group, offering her a soft smile and a knowing look. In all her years, Y/N had never seen the group so quiet. It was highly suspicious.

As they arrived at The Green Dragon, Merry and Pippin each grabbed a door and flung it open. The inn was totally empty.

“Pip, I --”

“Just wait, trust me!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow and walked in, skeptical, the group snickering as she looked around. Dozens of curly-haired hobbits suddenly jumped up from their hidden places behind or under furniture, cheering. A small band burst into song, playing her favorite drinking song. The once-silent bar was now filled with the deafening roars of rowdy, half-drunk hobbits. Merry and Sam had already made for the bar to order drinks while Frodo snagged a table in the center of the room. Pippin remained by her side, a triumphant grin lighting up his face.

“They're all here for you. I invited everyone in the Shire! I wanted to show you how much you mean to everyone. No one here came for the drinks, though it may seem like it. They're here because of you. Because they care about you.”

As she studied the room, the faces of the halflings began to blur and melt; each movement seemed distorted and slow, their voices unbearably loud. Her hands began to shake as tears flooded her eyes. She greatly appreciated the effort Pippin had put into this, but doubt and an odd feeling of guilt were eating away at her. He had done so much for her; he'd dropped everything to do something he knew would cheer her up. All of her dearest friends were here, but she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Surely most, if not all of the guests felt obligated to come. They'd put a halt to their plans to take their place as bodies in a room, to begrudgingly become a wall of support for one person.

“Y/N? I'm sorry, are you okay? Here, let's get some fresh air--” Pippin stammered, placing a steadying hand on her back and gently leading her to the bench outside. “Here, it's cold. Put this on.” He added, slipping off his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, frozen in her seat. “You can go on in, I think I just need a minute. Thank you for doing this.”

Pippin rested his arm on the back of the bench and nodded. “I meant what I said, by the way. Everyone here really cares about you. They didn't just show up out of obligation, either.” He chuckled as she gave him an alarmed look. “I know you. I knew you'd be thinking it. Be kind to yourself; for my sake, if it helps.” He nodded to the patch of daffodils under a nearby tree. “Those see your favorites, right?”

“Yes, actually. How did you know?”

“Because I know you.”

Y/N smiled. It had only been a few minutes, but this quiet moment with her dearest friend had calmed her nerves and racing thoughts. She glanced over at him, gratefulness and hope flooding her heart. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, warmth shimmering in his eyes. “Anytime.”

[lkblackham]

Interested in going full cottage core? Here's some stuff you need to expect (from a hobbit-lookin' gal who grew up in the woods):

1) dead animals. Dead rodents, specifically. No matter how well you clean, the mice and rats will come. And your cat will find them. And they will bring their bloodied corpses to you and expect praise. If you do not have cats (which automatically disqualifies you from being cottage core, sorry I don't make the rules), small furry creatures will find other ways to die inside your house. You will find them in your attic. You will find them in your drawers. You will find them under your bed. They are most definitely inside your walls. You may not know it, but you definitely have a wall full of dead squirrels.

Also, *do not get a pool*. It's just another place for cute animals to die and then be discovered by your very impressionable and easily traumatized young children. Also, they're impossible to keep clean. If you're truly cottage core, you swim in a river or lake or ice-cold pond created by the snowmelt. It's better for the drought anyway.

2) BIG dead animals. You want to keep goats? Maybe sheep? That's great. Just know that at least three of them will die suddenly at the worst time, either from snakebite or illness or coyote attack or because they literally just decided to lie down under a nice tree and peacefully pass with literally no explanation. And then you will have to figure out how to bury them. And then how to have the Death Talk with your young, impressionable children who may or may not already be traumatized by the drowned fox they found in the pool a week ago.

Besides good fencing/livestock shelters, or maybe getting a livestock gaurdian dog/donkey/llama (no, I am not joking), there is nothing you can do about the mountain lions, bears and coyotes eating your animals. They were there before you. They will be there after you and the rest of humanity are gone. It's harsh, but that is what the song from the Lion King was actually about: Mufasa's right to eat everyone there.

Speaking of which:

3) you share the land. You do not own it. Oh, you think the bear cares that you bought this patch of forest with money and you don't like him eating your goats and/or peaches?? You can try showing him the deed and the NO TRESPASSING signs, but somehow I don't think that'll work.

Nature does not care. It will do as it does. No matter how good you are at singing and how many birds you befriend. Again, harsh. But not utterly insane. If you respect nature, it will not respect you, but you will at least know what to expect. So gopher-proof your garden. And get a cat.

4) coyote howling is actually quite lovely. Once you get over how eerie it sounds.

5) frogs are LOUD. They are so FREAKING loud. Some nights they will be SO loud you will not be able to sleep. Do not entice them into your yard with a pond unless you are willing to bear the consequences.

6) birds are LOUD. There is no need for a morning alarm, they ARE your alarm. You may think this sounds lovely, but you may not be feeling that way at 6 am on a Saturday after being kept up all night by the frogs.

7) think you'll go barefoot everywhere? Or at least have a good pair of Birkenstocks? No, my child, you will need to invest in at least 6 pairs of gumboots that will mostly be mud by the time spring comes around. Hiking boots are for summer. Unless you're ready for poison oak and ticks. Again, there is nothing you can do about that. Unless you are willing to take the risk and get a brush-eating goat. Even then, remember the snakes I mentioned earlier?

8) you will get desensitized to horror movie scenarios real quick. A cabin in the woods? Bro, that's my house. A pair of red eyes in the dark? That's just a coyote. Maybe a wandering dog. And even if it was a demon, how would it get in my house? That sucker's locked up tight. Creepy noises at night? Like, say, a woman screaming? That's probably a mountain lion or a fox. Yeah, they do that.

You quickly find that the bad things actually tend to happen to people who did not do their nature research as I explained above. Like, say, camping with grizzly bears. Or eating something they found in the woods. What kind of idiot are you??? The kind that eats berries they don't know the name of but think they look like blackberries. That's who.

9) what neighbors you have, may not be the... friendliest. There's a reason people move out this far, and it's usually to get away from other people. Are they marijuana farmers? Probably. Do they want to murder you? What, no, they don't want to get into trouble. They moved here to AVOID trouble. Just keep yourself to yourself and you'll be fine. But definitely make some friends in town. There is a town near you, right?

10) once you get over that initial learning curve/trauma, you will find that the forest actually is a really peaceful place to live. You know the patterns. You learn to read the weather. You are at peace with the fact that your beloved goats may die, but for now, you have succeeded in protecting them. As scary as the wilderness can be, it's far less scary than living with other humans. I'd rather deal with the peach-stealing bear (I am SO onto you) than the creepy dude who lives in the apartment below mine. Humans are far more unpredictable and weird than nature is. But that's just my *opinion*.

Okay, them's my thoughts. Anyone want to add/critique?

[darkangel0410]

                                                   home grown

Pairing: Jack/Connor

Tags: Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Selkies, Magical Realism

Summary: It’s not that Connor didn’t believe Jack.

It’s just that it’s one thing to be told that your husband is part hobbit and that hobbits grow their babies in their garden, and another to come home and see him in the backyard digging a large hole and muttering to himself while both Moose and Samson watch him intently.

[apatosaurus]

Garden report 5/15/23:

The strawberry patch is very lush, but I forgot to put down pavers or something so that I have a place to step. Something is nibbling the chard and some of the other greens in the 4x4 bed, but they seem to leave the arugula alone. The comfrey here should get moved to the back patio border.

The chard in the middle 4x8 bed looks good. Some of the herbs in the little red pot are coming up. Shock O’Lot sunflowers in the front 4x8 bed are doing well. I started those inside. Scout sunflowers I tried to direct sow in the middle 4x8 bed have been nibbled to death, as have most of the beans.

Hobbit sunflowers in pots surrounded by calendula have some nice growth. Basil is struggling a bit.

Peas have blossomed. Now I feel obligated to let them stay for longer, so I’ll have to work around them as I add compost and then put tomato seedlings in this bed. Carrots did seem to benefit from thinning but they still aren’t big enough. Maybe more thinning is necessary.

Loving this allium. I will try to remember to plant more this fall. Dill is looking bushy. Purchased lavender is doing fine. I am not sure if the greenery in the foreground is something I planted or not.

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Glova's Garden

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/fng64KE

by hfmoose

“Thorin.”

He made a noncommitted sound in response to his husband while he drank his lemonade.

“I want you to know that despite your stubbornness and lack of faith in me, I forgive you, and I love you more than anything. And that I told you so.”

Without another word, his One stood, swept at his shirt to rid himself of crumbs, and turned to face the now watermelon sized acorns hanging from the tree in wait.

------------------------------

Bilbo begins his and Thorin's family. Thorin thinks his husband has gone insane, as dwobbits do not grow on trees.

Except they do.

Words: 4533, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin's Company, Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli (Tolkien), Dís (Tolkien), Dwalin (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Óin (Tolkien), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Original Dwobbit Character(s), Original Hobbit Character(s), Frodo Baggins

Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

Additional Tags: Dwobbits, Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Insanity, not really - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/fng64KE