AN: The only thing I'm going to establish concerning appearance of the 'you' character, is short hair. And, well, average human height? ^-^ Enjoy reading.

CHAPTER 1: Small people and their gardens

Your head ached like it never had before; it was like someone was pounding on it with the heaviest hammer they could find, and you felt like blacking out once again. If not for the nigh unbearable pain in your thinking place, the underground was kind of…soft?

Or at least not hard enough to make your back hurt, too. It felt like grass, although you didn't feel like opening your eyes and confirming that guess.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, miss?"

You blinked a few times before opening your eyes to an annoyed face.

"You happen to lie on my front porch."

His voice was all but helpful, and you slowly sat up. This man happened to be very small. Small enough to make you question your own perception of height. Maybe you had been drugged? Or that hangover from last night was just really terrible.

"I'm incredibly sorry, sir. Your porch is…" you looked around. You were going to continue your sentence, but the peacefulness of this place stopped you dead in your tracks. This wasn't where you fell. You fell down in the forest, in a spot where you could still see the buildings rise up above the trees. A spot where you could still kind of smell the pollution, and you could hear the cars and trains passing by.

Here, there were only miniature farms and round doors. It would have fascinated you, were it not for the fact that you were not meant to be here. The man was still looking at you while you stood up, and you were beginning to doubt he was an actual man. He was at least a 2 feet smaller than you, even though his face seemed more mature and definitely older.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and coughed a little, looking down at this strange dwarvish man.

"W-where the hell am I, sir?"

He raised his eyebrow in a combination of annoyance and surprise, crossing his arms. He had a pipe in his hand, you noticed, and incredibly hairy feet. You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose at the unnatural amount of hair.

He probably thought you were weird too, seeing as he was eyeing your clothing like it was weird.

You couldn't help it nobody notified you of the apparent costume party.

"You are in the Shire. On, might I remind you, my front porch."

This man obviously wasn't very happy with you being there. He seemed set on not having any disturbances. And you seemed to qualify as one.

"I apologize, I just have a screaming headache and I really don't know how I got here."

You held a hand up to your head in order to illustrate your pain, only to feel something fluid. You looked at your hand to notice your head was bleeding, and the hairy, tiny man noticed too. His face was still slightly annoyed, but it softened at the sight of the blood.

"Goodness, you're hurt! Come in then."

You followed behind him as he opened the round door, and you had to bow in order to fit.

It was a big mistake to rise up again once inside, because the ceiling was harder than you thought. You successfully made your own headache worse, but you also proved this wasn't some weird-ass dream you had made up.

"Is everything alright?"

You heard him calling from one of the other rooms, and you followed the sound. It was a quaint little kitchen; you were more careful not to hit the ceiling and sat down on the small chair he offered. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but he was being polite, and it was better than the ground.

He cleaned your forehead. Apparently there was a small wound right below your hairline, where the blood came from.

"Thank you, mister…"

It dawned on you that you had completely forgotten to introduce yourself. It was rather rude, being on someone's front porch like a drunk and then casually going in their house.

"Baggins. Bilbo Baggins. Pleasure to meet you, miss…?"

"[Last name] [Name]."

He nodded.

Baggins was not a name you recognized. You often looked up names; you loved to write the occasional short story; and you had never come across something even remotely similar. Same for Bilbo. He seemed to think the same though, as he narrowed his eyes a little.

Your headache just got worse.

AN: I just felt like hopping on the bandwagon and writing a dimension-travel story for the Hobbit trilogy. I'm not entirely sure reader-insert stories are allowed on , but I've grown fond of this style of writing. I hope you enjoy the story.

AN: wow, read it for the third time and revised it. I'm going to stick with leaving you feminine, that is just a whole lot easier.