there is a waywhere there is a will

GRYFFINDOR:

“The road goes ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow, if I can,
pursuing it with eager feet,
until it joins some larger way
where many paths and errands meet.”

-JRR Tolkien (Bilbo Baggins: Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring)

“The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.”

anonymous asked:

I've read a lot of fics, but just wondered if I'm missing any of the 'famous' ones, (like dalton) that everyone has already read. could you please put together a list. love this blog and thanks for all the valentines fun

We had a discussion about this and tbh, hesitated because although there are obvious “famous” fandom fics, we didn’t want to list them for fear of diminishing other amazing fics that may not have received the same fanfare.  The following stories are the ones that are the most well known, however, we have not necessarily read every single one of them. Enjoy!

Everyday

Someone Like You

The Muse

Go Your Own Way

Where There’s Smoke

A Political Romance/A Legal Romance

Little Numbers

Crema

Angel In A Red Vest

All The Other Ghosts

An Accidental Chance verse

The Sidhe

If I Die Young

Dalton

Sideways/Anywhere But Here

Fix

Expectation Fails

No Envy No Fear

Snapshots

In The Key Of Us

Where We Went Right

Syrup and Honey

It’s Not Babysitting

anonymous asked:

Hey love your blog! Could I get some SFW playful teasing towards S/O from Genji/Zenyatta (separately)? thank u!

Genji


  • He’s a horrible teaser
    • His voice is constantly painted with a playful tone
    • But it’s obviously love felt
    • He adores you and it’s obvious even when he’s teasing you
  • It’s never too far
    • Knowing where your lines are
  • If he does manage to push your buttons accidently
    • He’ll sheepishly apologise

Zenyatta


  • He doesn’t tease often
    • And it’s horribly subtle
    • You not realising it until later
  • His voice will get this tone however
    • Like he’s trying too hard to hold back his glee
  • If you get it right after he says it
    • He’ll smile in that omnic way
    • Where he just radiates light
    • He’s just too cute

There comes a time
A time in everyone’s life
Where nothing seems to go your way
Where nothing seems to turn out right

There may come a time
You just can’t seem to find your place
For every door you open
It feels like two get slammed in your face

That’s when you need someone
Someone that you can call
And when all your faith is gone
It Feels like you can’t go on
Let it be me
Let it be me
If it’s a friend that you need
Let it be me
Let it be me

about that girdle

this is a post about the evolution of Tolkien’s conceptions of the forces protecting Doriath, from the earliest versions of the legendarium to the one implied by the final Silmarillion, but before I talk about that I just want to share the delightful tidbit that in the Book of Lost Tales, Melian’s name was Wendelin.

Isn’t that excellent? I feel like my initial perception of a character named Wendelin is profoundly different from a character named Melian. Melian gets at the divinity, the angel-in-temporary-Elven-form, but Wendelin gets at the inhumanity, the incomprehensibility, the ways that the Maiar are profoundly different from us and anything we can imagine.

Thingol, in that version, is called Linwe Tinto.

Anyway, about that girdle.

In the earliest imagining, Thingol never returned to his people:

beguiled by the fair music of the fay Wendelin, as other tales set forth more fully elsewhere, their leader Tinwe Linto was lost, and long they sought him, but it was in vain, and he came never again among them. (Book of Lost Tales I, 125.)

and:

Keep reading

2

Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

lingering in my mind
what was that again?
wisps of her spirit
striving to extend

our time together

she cannot leave
I won’t let go
this is your home
our home, don’t you know?

where spirits meet
where hearts collide
the taste is sweet
on the other side

of sorrow and dismay
where the risks
of reality
won’t get in the way

where water gently laps
on a  distant shore
where I am yours
where you are mine
together, for evermore

so, i’m rereading bilbo’s 111th birthday party and

1) HIS FUCKING SPEECH.  It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake; though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem so important. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a bad cold at the time, I remember, and could only say ‘thag you very buch’. I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party. Does this dorknugget refer to his arrival at Lake Town every birthday, I wonder? Is it because he and Thorin did the do at Lake Town after the banquet and he just likes to keep the memory alive?

2) Hobbits like things short and obvious and love making a great deal of noises and shouting during speeches (and Bilbo’s birthday-speeches seem to be a thing that only he really does?). Compare and contrast to Dwarves throwing shit during mealtimes and performances.

3) there were three Dwarves who accompanied Bilbo to Rivendell: 

They went out into the hall. Bilbo chose his favourite stick from the stand; then he whistled. Three dwarves came out of different rooms where they had been busy.

‘Is everything ready?’ asked Bilbo. ‘Everything packed and labelled?’

‘Everything,’ they answered.

‘Well, let’s start then!’ He stepped out of the front-door.

It was a fine night, and the black sky was dotted with stars. He looked up, sniffing the air. ‘What fun! What fun to be off again, off on the Road with dwarves! This is what I have really been longing for, for years! Good-bye! ‘ he said, looking at his old home and bowing to the door. ‘Good-bye, Gandalf!’

‘Good-bye, for the present, Bilbo. Take care of yourself! You are old enough, and perhaps wise enough.’

‘Take care! I don’t care. Don’t you worry about me! I am as happy now as I have ever been, and that is saying a great deal. But the time has come. I am being swept off my feet at last,’ he added, and then in a low voice, as if to himself, he sang softly in the dark:

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The dwarves of the House of Durin totally fall over themselves to escort Bilbo out of the Shire I betcha

4) speaking of which, Bag End was pretty much a B&B for dwarves if you’d believe the gossip at Hobbiton:  ‘Ah, but he has likely enough been adding to what he brought at first,’ argued the miller, voicing common opinion. ‘He’s often away from home. And look at the outlandish folk that visit him: dwarves coming at night, and that old wandering conjuror, Gandalf, and all. You can say what you like, Gaffer, but Bag End’s a queer place, and its folk are queerer.’ dwarves coming at night. heh. i know a dwarf who’d come at night. heh. hehe. hehehehe. 

in conclusion i want to believe thorin faked his death and reappeared at bag end sometime between the hobbit and lotr, and he pops in and out of bag end for a while until finally just spiriting bilbo off on his 111th birthday

The Road That Ever Led to Home (Major Rewrite)

Well I remember every step
every bend and turn along the way
that spot where morning robins sang
whilst squirrels would chatter, scurry
and play
the wind that wound along the path
long an old and trusted friend
oft whispered through the poplar trees
as in silence I listened and walked with him
many days we shared with the gentle rain
most melodically she laughed and sang
as her ever steady drip drop pitter patter 
played a hauntingly sad yet soft refrain
well I remember how lightly my heart
stepped over each and every stone
how could I not remember
you know I could never
forget the road that led to you
the road that ever led to home