Here are two fics I wrote after watching DoS last night. The first one came about when we were making up random conversations about Kili and Tauriel. About half the lines in there are from last night when we were talking.

“Kili,” Fili implored, “you really like her, don’t you?”
Taken aback, Kili’s face flushed before he could do anything about it. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.
“You have a crush on Tauriel,” Fili told his younger brother teasingly.
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not!”
“Kili, you said she started glowing!”
“The lighting was bad!” Kili defended feebly.
“You went on and on—oh yeah, and on about how ‘beautiful’ she was,” Fili said with a smirk.
“I was delirious!” Kili said, but to no avail. He was clearly losing this battle.
“You fall in love with every elf you see!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kili scoffed. “Only the girls.”
“Like Tauriel?”
“Exactly—no, wait!” But it was too late. Fili was already overcome with laughter.

The idea for this one was formed when Dad remarked that the line "I am fire. I am...death!" was "what dragons say when their self-esteem is low."

Smaug the Terrible, Greatest of All Dragons slithered morosely into the psychiatrist’s office.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Smaug,” said a sprightly young dragon sitting behind the receptionist’s desk.
“Hello,” Smaug said with a miserable sigh.
“You may sit down,” she said, gesturing to the nearby chairs.
He did so, picking up Gold Hoarders Weekly from a stack of magazines. He tried reading it, but couldn’t focus on the words. Soon, however, the psychiatrist came. “Hello, Smaug,” she said cheerily. He stood up and followed her down the corridor to her office, in which was a couch. Right next to the couch was a chair. There were some pretty paintings hanging up, although it was fairly obvious that they were cheap reproductions. Dr. Kzalar—for that was her name—sat on the chair whilst Smaug lay on the couch. “Now, Smaug,” she said, “why are you here?”
Smaug sighed. “Low self-esteem.”
“I see,” Kzalar murmured as she scribbled violently in her notebook. “Go on.”
“Well, there are these dwarves, and they want to… take all of my… treasure and…and… and kill me.” The last words were barely whispered, for he was absolutely terrified at the thought of his death, and in fact had to keep himself from sobbing openly in the psychiatrist’s office. “I’m worried I can’t defeat them,” he murmured timidly.
“Oh, Smaug,” Kzalar began passionately, “have you forgotten all your titles? Smaug the Stupendous, Smaug the Tyrannical, Smaug the Terrible! Everyone fears you!”
“I know that deep down in my cold, cold dragon’s heart, but sometimes I forget.”
“Whenever your self-esteem gets low, just repeat these words to yourself: I am fire.” She sat there for a while, but Smaug didn’t do anything. “Say it,” she encouraged.
“I am…fire.”
“Say it like you know it’s true!”
“I am fire!” Smaug said proudly.
“Then say ‘I am death’.”
“I am death!”
Kzalar grinned. “You’ll be able to destroy an entire city with that attitude!”

Do you guys have ideas for names for these fics?