starrykibber · 2 days
Shoutouts to the lighting in the scene where Aragorn is explaining what the black riders are. It lives rent free in my head. Like they were popping off so hard.
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tsuyonpuu · 14 hours
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I have a little update regarding the plushies for those who are interested! Here is a look at the polished design and a look at without the capes aswell. All pieces will be sewed onto the body because since they are for the bag we don’t want any pieces to fall of haha
I got a quotation in and production will be a bit pricey and Sam will also cost a bit more to produce than Frodo, possible pricing would be 20€ for one and a bundle of both of them for 35€ for both of them!
I would love to hear your thoughts on this!! 💕
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modernbaseball · 2 days
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Thought of him (samwise gamgee)
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Lady of Enmond
Chapter Two: Fire and Blood
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omg not me writing two chapters in one day bc i have nothing better to do??? that's crazy
legolas greenleaf x female!reader
summary: with the ringwraiths on their tails, strider, y/n, and the hobbits trek through the wild, slowly making their way to rivendell with little trouble. but one should never leave hobbits unsupervised with food and firewood
word count: ~4.1k
warnings: violence, hunting, mentions of death, mentions of blood
<previous next>
You can't even have a good sleep, because what feels like minutes later, you're startled awake, nearly falling out of your chair. Screams are coming from across the road, screams that are very akin to a pig squealing before a slaughter. Somehow, though, this one is different. It sends a chill down your spine and makes your hair stand up on end.
They're here.
Aragorn is sitting beside the window, staring outside. The Hobbits are awake as you stand and walk beside him, peering out the fogged-up window.
"What are they?" Frodo asks in a hushed voice as if they could hear him.
The Ringwraiths continue to scream in anger. You did trick them, after all.
"They were once Men," Aragorn answers. "Great kings of Men. But then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now, they are slaves to his will."
Looking out the window, you see them. Great tall beings, wrapped in black cloaks, mounting their horses, dark as night, with red eyes that pierce through the darkness. Just looking at them terrifies you.
Aragorn turns back to the Hobbits. "They are the Nazgul. Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times, they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."
At this, Aragorn says that you all must leave by morning. The Ringwraiths have left Bree, likely to go scout more.
"Rest up," he says to the Hobbits. "We leave in the morning."
As the Hobbits settle back down, you look at Aragorn. "I'll take this watch. You need sleep."
Aragorn sits back in his chair. "I do not."
You roll your eyes and take off your bow from around your torso. "Yes, you do. You haven't slept since last night. The sun rises in a few hours, you need to get it while you can."
Finally, your friend nods reluctantly. "Fine. I can't argue with you." He gives you a sly smile as he takes his scabbard off of his belt.
With a smirk, you sit back down in your own chair. "I am a Lady, after all. My father taught me to negotiate the second I could speak."
The sun rises much quicker than you would have thought. You had been drawing in your journal and writing a letter to your father, explaining your journeys, leaving out the part about how Sauron might have risen again. You just tell him how you and Aragorn met Hobbits in a bar. He doesn't need to know everything.
Your company is set out soon, hustling out of Bree and in the direction of Rivendell. The walk is long and by your calculations, it would take just over four days, possibly five. You know that you and Aragorn can walk for days, but you're not quite so sure of the Hobbits.
As the sun rises higher in the air and late morning approaches, you finally approach the woods. You've been pulling along a pony, Bill, what one Hobbit told you. The Hobbits seem kind enough, of course, weary of you and your friend. You don't blame them. The horse seems to like you, though.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo finally asks after jogging for a few hours.
You sniffle, your nose slightly runny. Curse this cold morning air. "Into the wild."
When you enter the woods, you hand off the pony to a Hobbit in the back. This one is slightly bigger with blond hair. Sam? Is that his name?
With all the rain last night, the ground is still wet and slightly muddy. This is the kind of weather you like, especially in the forest. It's where you were raised, after all. The smell of fresh air and pines always brings you home. You know the forest like the back of your hand, knowing which trees are which, the names of all the animals. Though you're less familiar with these woods, they're still just as comforting.
You walk alongside Aragorn as the Hobbits begin to mumble to themselves. You catch a snippet of their conversation.
"...servant of the enemy would look fairer, and feel fouler."
"They're both foul enough."
With your mouth slightly open in faux shock, you whisper to Aragorn, "Are they calling us ugly?"
There's a ghost of a smile on his face and you swear he chuckles under his breath, pushing you forward.
"But where is he leading us?"
"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee," Aragorn answers loud enough for them to hear. "To the house of Elrond."
The Hobbits gasp and murmur. "Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the elves."
As you keep walking, the air gets colder as you climb the hills. You break through the forest and walk through clearings. Patches of snow litter the ground. You scoop a bit up into your hand, form it into a ball, and throw it at a tree, watching it smash with a small smile.
After a while, you begin to hear the Hobbits mumbling among themselves. You turn to see what the matter is and pause. They're unloading and sitting on the ground. You poke Aragorn's arm to get his attention.
"Gentlemen," you tell them politely. "We don't stop until nightfall. We need to keep moving.
"What about breakfast?" asks one of the Hobbits, Pippin, you recall, his accent thick.
You tilt your head, a hand resting on your knife casually. "We've already had it."
"We've had one, yes," he admits. "But what about second breakfast?""
With a roll of his eyes, Aragorn turns and keeps walking. Second breakfast? What even is that? Slowly, you turn away and continue walking.
"Don't think they know about second breakfast, Pip," says another Hobbit, Merry, slinging his bag over his shoulder to follow.
Pippin follows him, asking, "What about elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? They know about them, don't they?"
"I wouldn't count on it," answers Merry.
With a small smile, you pull out an apple and toss it to Merry above the bushes. He catches it and hands it to Pippin, patting him on the shoulder. You toss another one and it hits Pippin in the face. With a gasp, you cover your mouth. "Sorry!"
As you continue to walk through the bushlands, the snow begins to melt more and the sky gets cloudier. You don't think it will rain again, but you can never be sure. Eventually, you end up in marshlands, with wet, murky water up to your knees in spots and flying bugs and mosquitos.
You're soaked to the bone and your legs are cold, but you keep going. You've always loved adventure, no matter how gross to messy. Your cloak protects you from the biting bugs, but you shoo them away from your face.
The Hobbits aren't having any more luck. Sam is slowly encouraging the horse to follow along and the other three are slipping and sliding. Probably because they don't have shoes, but then you suppose none could ever fit their feet.
Loudly, you hear one complain, "What do they eat when they can't get Hobbit?"
You persevere through the marshlands until nightfall. The lands are a bit less mucky through here, and Aragorn finds a spot to camp for the night. You're all hungry, only having had breakfast this morning.
"Shall I go hunt?" you ask, already taking your bow from your torso.
Aragorn nods. "If you would. You've always been better at it."
"Yeah, I have." And then you head into the woods. It's almost a full moon, so light should not be a problem.
Another good thing about living in the forest for your entire life is how quickly you learned to hunt as a girl. Your father took you when you were old enough and you immediately found your flow. It was one of your favorite things to do, even if it was a bit boring.
You trudge through the forest quietly, minding the branches and sticks on the ground. You're looking for a deer, only something that big will feed the six of you. A doe will work, but you wouldn't pass up a buck.
When you're looking for a deer, almost everything else seems to pop out. Squirrels run across your path carelessly and birds sing above, getting ready to rest for the night. Finally, you approach a small creek and decide to wait there for something. Even deer get thirsty.
You crouch down behind a bush but still with enough of a view. To be prepared, you draw an arrow and nock it so you're ready when anything pops out.
You wait for a while, longer than you would have thought. The woods are still and quiet down as the moon rises higher and your breath comes out in a fog. Your knees hurt and you shift.
A twig snaps from the other side of the creek and you perk up, peering through the woods. Slowly, a pretty doe approaches the creek and bends down to drink.
Slowly, you draw back your string and aim. You want to aim for the heart or lungs for an easy kill. You never want an animal to suffer.
So you wait until she's done drinking. You'll have a better shot and if you stay low, she won't hear you. So you wait. She takes a while, she must have been thirsty. But finally, she slowly stands extending her neck too look around.
Before she can leave, you release your arrow, and it thunks right into her heart. She falls and quickly stills.
Your feet splash in the creek as you make sure she's dead before hoisting her up over your shoulder to get back to the group. She's heavy and you grunt, but you can manage.
They are still right where you left them, as you expected.
You skin it as Aragorn gets it on the fire and roasts it in chunks. You cook all of it, wrapping up the leftovers for the rest of the journey.
The Hobbits fall back asleep soon and you lay on the ground, hands behind your head as Strider softly sings a tune in Elvish while smoking from his pipe. You're looking up at the stars, knowing they're the same ones as above your village. Maybe your sister is looking up at them right now?
"Who is she?" Frodo asks out of the blue and you nearly shit yourself, clutching a hand over your heart. You sit up and realize he's talking to Aragorn. "This woman you sing of."
Aragorn hesitates to answer, you knew he would. He's always hesitant to speak of her. "'Tis the lady of Luthien. The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal." He sighs heavily and you feel bad for him.
"What happened to her?" Frodo asks quietly.
Aragorn sighs again and shakes his head. "She died," and he turns away.
You look at Frodo and say, "Get some sleep, Frodo. We still have a long way to go."
He nods and settles back down, pulling his blanket over himself. You look at Aragorn. He's still smoking and you lay back down, counting the constellations once more.
You're not sure when, but eventually, you fall asleep. And, like always, you dream. You always dream. Most of the time, you can't remember them. When you can, however, they're important. And this one seems like it is.
In your dream, you're standing in the dark, the grass wet beneath your feet. You're not wearing shoes because, for some reason, you never do in your dreams. To one side of you is a great black tower you know is the Orthanc, the great tower of Isengard. To your other side are trees, far and as wide as the eye can see. Tall trees, great and old ones.
For a moment, you wonder why you're here. You've never been to Isengard before, you've only heard stories. Suddenly, you hear a crack and a crash and look back toward the forest. A tree has fallen. And then another crack, a creak, and a crash. Another tree has fallen. No. Not fallen. It's been pulled down.
You're too far away to see clearly, and you can't move. You can never move in your dreams. But you swear you can see men beside the great trees, tying ropes around them and pulling them down. You can hear their grunts and shouts from here.
But something about them seems...different. Their voices sound different, not human.
Another tree falls to the ground and you wake up.
You keep walking all day. Through the marsh a bit more then through the woods again before finally breaking out into open land just to climb up some more hills. You've been through this land a few times, but it's still just as unfamiliar to you.
Part of you considers bringing up your dream to Aragorn. Oftentimes, your dreams have deeper meanings. Sometimes, even, what happens in your dream comes true in real life. One times, you dreamt your cursed mother burned your brother's arm with a hot ember. A few days later she did.
But another part of you decides to wait. Surly it can't be that important. And besides, you all still have much to worry about.
As you travel, you attempt to make conversation with the Hobbits. By now, you've learned their names. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. The pony's name is Bill, something you found amusing.
"What's so funny?" asks Sam, still hesitant to trust despite how many chunks of deer he had the night before.
You still your laughter and say, "Oh, nothing, nothing! I just think it's quite cute, Bill." You rub the horse's ear and he whinnies.
As evening approaches, your feet are killing you. Looking back, you should have gotten a new pair of boots before you left Bree. You knew it.
Aragorn slows and you nearly run into him, stopping just before you run into his back. "Hey."
He's looking at something and you follow your gaze, breath hitching in your throat. "Oh."
Before you is a great ruin on a hill. Nothing too fancy, but you know better. It's the ruins of a watched town, Amon-Sul.
"This was the great watchtower of Amon-Sul," Aragorn says, somewhat forlornly. He turns to the Hobbits and says, "We shall rest here tonight."
After trecking halfway to the top, Aragorn states that it's as good a spot as any. The Hobbits quickly take off their packs and sit down heavily, panting. You sot on the edge, swinging your feet. It's windy up here, and the clouds are moving fast.
Aragorn steps away from the edge and takes off something from his back. You turn to see what's going on to see him handing the Hobbits small swords, four of them. Though you'd call them more like daggers, they're the perfect size for them.
"These are for you," he says. "Keep them close. We're going to have a look around." He looks at you.
You turn your eyes away from the Hobbits googling at their new weapons to look at Aragorn with upturned brows. "Come on, Aragorn, can't I just sit?"
He holds out his hand.
Reluctantly, you take it and haul yourself up, feet immediately hurting again. With a sigh, you leave some of the deer meat with the Hobbits. Aragorn begins to make his way back down. "Stay here," you tell them. "And be quiet and careful." Then you turn to follow your friend back down.
"How are you doing, Y/N?" Aragorn asks as you both do a perimeter check around the fortress. He said it was to make sure there's nothing around, but part of you feels like he needed to get away from the Hobbits. As sweet as they are, they had never been on a journey like this before, even you knew that. It was hard. And they let you know every second.
You sigh, trudging along. Honestly, you've been better. You haven't bathed in several days, your hair is a mess, and your feet are killing you. So, you answer, "Pretty good, considering. You?"
He just sighs instead of answering. You laugh.
You both walk around in silence like you both normally do. You're both similar in that way. You sometimes prefer silence over the conversation.
In fact, your silence is quite nice until a faint scream ruins it.
It's that same scream you heard two nights before. Your nerves are set on fire again and you exchange an urgent look with Aragorn. They found them.
Quickly, quicker than your feet liked, you both raced back the way you came, dodging branches, and jumping over rocks. Aragorn's sword is drawn and your bow is loaded as you run back up the ruins of Amon-Sul. Above you, the sounds of struggle are steadily getting louder. Clanging of swords and grunts of Hobbits. You pass by the camp, where you note the embers of a fire still smoking. You shake your head and click your teeth. Hobbits.
Finally, you reach the top and you're not prepared for what you see.
Five of the Nazguls, tall and dressed in dark armor are standing, crowded around something. Three of the Hobbits are down, but look unharmed. Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Then where is Frodo?
A scream cuts through the air, this one mortal, nothing that the Wraiths could produce. Your blood runs cold and for a moment, you're frozen. Frodo.
But then Aragorn lets out a cry, he leaps and slices at the Nazguls, a torch in his hand. Where'd he get that from?
After that, your mind jumps into action mode and you let loose an arrow and it flies towards a Nazgul's empty face. Literally, empty, you can see nothing but pitch black beneath his hood. It screams and reaches towards you, but you've already knocked another arrow and it sinks into its face again.
You can't see Frodo still, but you know where he is. The air seems to ripple just a bit behind where you're now standing and part of you knows it's him. You've drawn another arrow while Aragorn waves the torch in front of you. The Ringwraiths don't seem to like that, as they cringe away from it. Is that their one weakness?
Firing another arrow that clangs off of one's armor, you don't let that deter you. You haven't been in too many battles, much less against these things, but your body knows what to do. Stay focused, keep moving, and be aware of everything at all times.
There's a scream of agony behind you and you risk a glance. Frodo has reappeared, but he's much paler now. He's shaking and shivering and his shoulder is bleeding as he cries out.
There's a clang of metal and you turn to let fly another arrow, deflecting against a sword.
Sam is up and rushes to his friend's side as you and Aragorn push them back. You shoot another and it sinks into a Nazgul's hood. They're all screaming so loud you feel like your ears will soon bleed.
Aragorn's torch makes contact with a Nazgul's rope and it lights on fire, the being itself screaming in pain. You laugh and shout, "Nice!"
The Ringwraith on fire now stumbles back into two of his friend, also setting them on fire. Aragorn pushes one back to the edge where it has no other choice but to fall. You, however, are out of arrows. You throw your bow to the side and duck the swing of a blade, stumbling backward. "Aragorn!" you cry, screaming and rolling out of the way as a blade clangs at the stone where you just were.
Something hurdles through the air and the torch lands smack in the center of the thing's face. It screams and falls over the edge. Your friend rushes over and hauls you up, touching your face gently. "Are you alright?"
You look up at him and nod. "Yeah," you say breathlessly.
Frodo cries out again and you both break apart to rush over to him. He's on the ground surrounded by his friends. He's just as pale and still writing in pain.
"Help him, Strider," says Sam, on the brink of tears.
Something glints beside Frodo and you pick it up. It's a dagger and you know what it is just off of stories. "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." The blade itself disintegrates into the air and you throw the hilt down angrily.
Frodo cries out again.
Hurridly, Aragorn picks him up again, despite Frodo's wails. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."
Quickly, you pick up your arrows and bow and stow them back on your person, running to catch up with the others. Aragorn has made the Hobbits pick up camp and you assist them before running after Aragorn, who is already halfway down the hill by now.
You make your way into the forest, knowing that the wraiths are still very much out there, very much not dead, and very angry. You're kneeling beside Frodo, hushing him and pushing back his sweaty hair. Yet his skin is cold to the touch. His cries quickly get quieter as he tiers out. He's not bleeding, but with this, he wouldn't. No, he's been poisoned. There's still a shade of the blade inside him.
In the clearing, you're surrounded by stone trolls, but you barely notice. Poor Frodo, you bet he didn't ask to do any of this, he didn't want to get involved in this.
"Look, Frodo," Sam says, sitting beside you. "It's Mister Bilbo's trolls." He touches his friend's face and cries out, "He's going cold!"
"Is he going to die?" asks Pippin, also on the verge of tears. Your heart breaks.
Aragorn turns and says, "He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith, just like them."
Frodo gasps and you scowl. "Strider!"
A Ringwraith screeches in the distance and you look around. It's too close for comfort. For a moment, Frodo's gasps match thairs.
"They're close," you say.
"Sam." Aragorn walks towards the Hobbit and touches his arm. "Do you know the Athelas plant?"
Sam nods quickly. "Aye, Kingsfoil, that's a weed."
"It may help to slow the poision." He hands him his torch and says, "Quickly. Khaya, you watch them. Be on guard."
You nod and look back down at Frodo as the two of them run into the woods to look for that plant. "Hang on, Frodo, you'll be fine, I promise."
Frodo closes his eyes, his breathing becoming slower. He's tired, you know that, but he must stay awake.
Gently, you pat at his face. "Come on, Frodo, stay awake. There."
His eyes meet yours and for a moment, you see your brother in them. They were the same color.
The minutes seem to stretch longer. Merry and Pippin sit beside you, but none of you speak. You cradle Frodo's head in your lap, trying not to worry. You all were so close, just a few more days and you would have been at Rivendell.
"Will he be okay, Khaya?" asks Pippin.
For a second, you forget that that's the name Strider gave you to hide your identity. But you nod, hastily. "Yes, he will be. We just have to wait for Strider and Sam, they'll have some medicine. Then we'll get a horse and ride him off to Rivendell."
"What about the Ringwraiths?" asks Merry in a hushed voice as if they would hear him.
You huff and scowl at the ground. "I--I don't know, Master Merry, but Strider will. He always does."
Gently placing Frodo's head on the grass, you stand. You need to move, you need to stand, you need to walk. You wonder what's taking Aragorn and Sam so long as you wander towards a towering stone giant. What did Sam say? Mister Bilbo's trolls? What did that even mean? And what is taking Aragorn so long?
You hear a twin snap in the distance and the gallop of hooves. Your heart drops to your feet and you turn faster than you ever have before, your dagger drawn.
But it is no Ringwraith. No, this is the opposite. A fair lady with dark long hair rides atop a white horse, dressed in a green cloak. She's beautiful, the most beautiful woman you've seen. And you've seen a lot. Immediately, you know she's an Elf, not just from her grace from dismounting a horse or how she seems to float through the air, but by her pointy ears.
You don't even put your knife away, just watch with an open mouth as she kneels beside Frodo and speaks in Elvish, a language so beautiful you nearly cry on the spot. Her voice is light and airy, and you're sure, if it were possible, she'd be radiating white light.
"Who is she?" asks Merry, having come to stand beside you with Pippin.
Aragorn comes from the clearing with Kingsfoil in his hands. You know her name, only by the stories Aragorn had told you.
"Frodo," the Elf says in the common tongue. Aragorn chews up the Kingsfoil in his mouth and Sam appears beside you.
"She's an Elf," he says.
"She is Arwen," you whisper, finally sheathing your dagger. What good would it have been against a Nazgul anyway?
Aragorn lifts Frodo's shirt and places the paste on Frodo's wound. He gasps and his eyes widen.
"He's not going to last," Arwen says. "We must get him to my father."
Hastily, the two of them pick Frodo up and Aragorn carries him to Arwen's horse.
"I've been looking for you for two days," Arwen says.
Merry steps forward quickly. "Where are you taking him?"
"There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know," she continues on.
Aragorn says something in Elvish, but Arwen counters back at him. They have a conversation while you and the Hobbits watch in curiosity.
"What are they saying?" Pippin asks.
You simply shrug. "I don't know."
Arwen says something that makes Aragon pause. Then, now back in the common tongue, she says, "I do not fear them."
Aragorn gently takes her hand. He says something in Elvish and she smiles before mounting her horse. Frodo moans. "Arwen. Ride hard. Don't look back."
Exchanging one last look, Arwen speaks to her horse in Elvish and they take off into the night.
Sam looks up angrily at Aragorn and shouts, "What are you doing? Those Wraiths are still out there!"
Aragorn hesitates, and for a moment, you see him regretting his choice. But you touch his arm and he looks at you.
"She'll be fine," you tell him and that seems to make him feel better.
He turns to the rest of the Hobbits and says, "Come, we must go. Rivendell is much further and we can waste no time."
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funnytwittertweets · 8 days
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lizzielovesmovies · 2 months
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cat-cosplay · 1 year
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Just informed them there won't be a Second Breakfast... nor an Elevenses.
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lordoftherings-uk · 1 year
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debbie-sketch · 10 months
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The Fellowship of the Ring
Insta: @debbiebalboa
Twitter: @DebbieBalboa
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sydsketch · 5 months
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my friends, you bow to no one.
buy the prints here.
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milesasinmorales · 7 days
I think that banana bread is a very hobbit-like food. I could imagine Bilbo having a slice with his tea. The thing is I cannot for the life of me imagine a fucking banana in Middle-Earth. They don’t belong there. Solution: banana bread just spawns in the Shire and no one fucking knows where it comes from
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tsuyonpuu · 22 days
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I'm so glad you all liked the other drawings!!! Here are some more i made for my upcoming sticker sheet 🥰🥰 It will probably be available in my store by the end of the week hopefully !!
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eldamaranquendi · 2 years
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Lotr characters by https://guilhermefranco.com.br
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galadrielspeaks · 2 months
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funnytwittertweets · 7 months
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lizzielovesmovies · 2 months
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use as you’d like
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