do not tell me of love

bilbo’s cry when he’s sat next to thorin’s dead body is a sound that haunts my nightmares

thorin’s final courting gift to bilbo being a crown he made himself, incorporating flowers and plants that’ll never wilt, made from mithril and beautiful gems. a prefect mix of dwarven culture and hobbit culture

I think Thorin would be the kind to cradle you in his lap. That nice warm space against his neck for you to hide your face against, curtained by his hair, his stubble gently scratching your face. He smells of the citrus or nut hair oils he uses. His big arms holding you secure in his lap, you know he'd never let you fall. After all these years together, your chair before the hearth looks untouched because your true seat is right there, over his thick thighs, where he can murmur to you in that great rumbling voice until you fall asleep there.

Okay buddy.

the token gay friend? no, u misheard me. i’m the tolkein gay friend. i’m gay and i love lord of the rings

How about the cold metal of the beads at the end of Thorin’s braids dragging over your hot skin while he’s on top of you… how bout that