#oh thorin you need to chill with the boxers

[inthememetime]

The Company (+Gandalf, Dís, & Tauriel)- Do they have a Tumblr in a modern AU which I'll probably never write?

Dwalin- Like this? *holds out a tumbler style cup*

Balin- Yes, and he uses it to shitpost constantly. 'Your teeth are always wet.' 'On average, the number of human skeletons in a human body is more than 1.'- style posts. No one in his friend group knows, but some suspect since he's suspiciously up to date on memes.

Thorin- Yes, but he's only on like twice a week. A friend of his suggested he posts some of the tattoos he does, and he likes the validation. He also does watercolors for commissions. He was confused about why some of his regulars told him they were 'looking respectfully' until he was tagged in one of Bilbo’s livestreams where he came downstairs in nothing but a pair of boxers with mistletoe on the front. Somehow he always forgets what night Bilbo streams on despite the fact it's posted on their fridge.

Glóin- No, but I think Dwalin has one you can use. Oh. Is it that thing my lad Gimli is always on? You know, my son landed 1st place last week in his- wait. Where are you going??

Oín- The what now? How do you get on a mug? Like a painting thing? I think Thorin does those if you want one.

Dori- Yes, he's on a few times a week. He's very active in the embroidery and needlepoint circles. He doesn't have a lot of followers, but he's ok with that.

Nori- He's more of a Reddit guy. But sometimes he gets on and spams the porn bots with requests for free toasters or tacos for funsies. He also teaches people how to legally get away with breaking and entering, theft, and similar crimes as long as they promise to only use it on rich assholes.

Ori- Yes, he has 2 Tumblrs. One that's active in needlepoint, crochet, and calligraphy that Dori knows about, and the other is a fanart blog. His Zukka, Johnlock, and Destiel work gets a lot of reblogs. Hates Post+ with a passion.

Bifur- He likes plants, so he started looking them up and posting them online. Eventually, somebody on Reddit told him he should get a Tumblr and now he's known as the plant guy. He's very active, and talks about his disability sometimes which lost him a few followers but gained him a lot more. He's actually made a side gig out of it through Ko-Fi.

Bofur- Yes, and now it's a legitimate business model for him? He still can't figure out how that happened. All he did was post pictures and videos of his handmade toys, link his Etsy and tell people he did commissions, and he's actually had to hire people now to keep up with the workload. 90% of it is the toys. The other 10% is the internet swooning over the super nice goofball who has to stop streaming to shout 'kitty!' every time his cat walks in and forgets to edit it out.

Bombur- Not really. He has a Tumblr, sure, but he hasn't used it since 2015.

Fíli- Yes because he can talk to people about swords and knives and axes and not be considered weird. He's known as the Weapons Discourse Guy, don't tag him in anything else. Unless it has explosions. Yes he's seen the video of his uncle in nothing but the world's tiniest mistletoe boxers, please stop tagging him in it.

Kíli- He has the blog his brother, mother, and uncle all know about- the one where he talks about hunting, archery, prehistoric animals, and dream vacations. He has his main blog, which is full of writing prompts, fanfic he's writing, and an insane amount of reblogged fanart for Reasons.

Bilbo- He finally got on Tumblr to see what the lads were on about, and posts a lot of baking videos. He runs a sweet shop and he's found lots of people enjoy watching him make candies, cupcakes, and pies. He also accidentally made Thorin a little more popular because he lives above the shop and sometimes Thorin comes downstairs shirtless while he's filming. His views always spike when there's the Baking Trifecta- complicated candies, shirtless Thorin, and Thorin talking to him from the side. His viewers like Thorin's voice; Bilbo doesn't blame them.

Bonus:

Tauriel's blog is NSFW, but not for the reason you might think. She's a Forensic Pathology major, and some of the research papers and pics she reblogs are disturbing to say the least. Despite using (some would say over-using) trigger tags, she still gets a lot of anon hate. Despite that, there are a lot of people who actually like her blog, because they get to find a lot about what happens when they die and find it comforting. She's also exposed a lot of racism and classism in the death industry, and now she writes books on it.

Dís: Everyone thinks she doesn't, but she does. She's not very active, but takes the time to send Thorin pictures of stickbugs (he hates them) because any opportunity to troll him is one she'll take.

Gandalf: He doesn't know how he got onto this hellsite, but he's blaming Pippin. Pippin was maybe 3 at the time, but he'll still blame the kid. But now that he's here, he might as well devote some time to raising absolute HELL on TERFs, Karens and pedos.

[shockcity]

Bagginshield #6 - wearing each other’s clothes

Rating: M Summary: for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. A mix up with the hotel dry cleaning service leaves Bilbo and Thorin in love ill-fitted suits. AU - Modern Setting 

What happens is this:

1. O'Hare to LAX on a red-eye 2. a chicken salad sandwich 3. Dwalin's advice

Alternatively: he is exhausted, covered in food stains, and who the hell wears a suit on a plane? You just have to break it in, Dwalin had said, as if he had any idea how to fashion (Dwalin had worn a suit a total of zero times, and hadn't even dressed up for his own wedding). Breaking in said suit (and his only suit, mind) had resulted in a sandwich oozing down his front and a minor panic over what the hell Thorin was supposed to do now.

The conference was at noon and it was just past 10, and the only change of clothes he'd brought was a pair of old jeans, an AC/DC shirt, and some severely out-of-style walking shoes. He couldn't go in street clothes, and there wasn't enough time to find and buy a suit before he was supposed to be at the convention center for the presentation. He was so screwed.

He texted Dwalin.

"Does this hotel have dry cleaning?" he obediently asked the concierge.

She was tall, tan, and beautiful, and maybe a clone, since he was pretty sure a girl that looked just like her had been his flight attendant, had worked at a Starbucks around the block, and had bumped into him in the lobby while she was distracted with her phone. Thorin squinted at her suspiciously. Clones.

A large, fake smile stretched across her face. "Of course, sir," she said, her teeth very straight and very white. "This is the Omni."

Thorin wasn't sure if she was being condescending or not, since the smile was really throwing him off. Thorin was from Chicago. Los Angeles made no sense. They did indeed have dry cleaning. Awesome.

"Can you rush this?" he said, holding up his suit. "I have to be at the convention center in an hour."

He expected her to say, "of course, sir, this is the Omni," again, but instead she kindly told him that it was no problem and took his suit away. He breathed a sigh of relief.  

--------

What happens is this:

1. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong 2. went wrong 3. with feeling

Heathrow to LAX, sleepless layover at JFK, luggage lost from London to New York to Los Angeles, apparently nonexistent hotel reservations, and one skinny soy vanilla latte topped with whipped cream spilled all down his front. Why the soy? No one knows.

Bilbo was admittedly a dramatic little shit, but he was pretty sure that his current crisis would test even the patience of a saint. In a panic, he'd practically shoved his suit into the concierge's arms the moment he had arrived at the Omni. This was before he realized that his reservations had apparently been cancelled, of course.

After a good few minutes of hemming and hawing on the concierge's end, and some seriously explosive sighing on his, Bilbo was finally checked in and guaranteed that his suit would be cleaned by noon. Yeah, right.

In a terrible temper, Bilbo slammed into his hotel room and threw his carry-on bag onto the bed. He landed on his back next to it, hands pressed against his eyes.

He was frustrated, and tired, and nervous about his being the stupid keynote speaker when everyone knew he had terrible stage fright. All he wanted was to get this over with and go home. Or at least sleep a little, even if just for an hour.

But he needed a goddamn suit, so he sighed and texted Prim.

He took his cousin's advice and called the front desk, Yelping each recommendation they gave him. Bilbo had just found a four and a half star tailor on Pico when a new text from Ori came in.

He...wow.

This day.

He buried his head into his pillow and had a good long scream.

His phone continued to buzz as Ori lost whatever chill he had once had, which was none, so he was in the negatives and Bilbo could not keep ignoring him. Resignedly, he picked his phone up and engaged in a long and drawn out text conversation that consisted of two electronically illiterate historians troubleshooting everything and turning things on and off while holding down random control keys. Nothing happened. Go figure.

Finally, just as Bilbo, too, had realized the inevitable, Ori decided enough was enough.

This fucking day.

-----

"Listen, I'm sorry," Thorin said, checking his watch again. "I really need my suit."

"Of course, sir, we're bringing it out now."

He was late and would have to change in the bathroom at the convention center and it was almost noon and they'd said it would be done already and they were getting such a bad review on Yelp, he swore to god...

Finally, they handed him a dress bag and he yelled a quick thank you and sprinted out of the hotel.

Of course it wasn't his suit in the bag. That would be silly.

-----

"Thank you so much," said Bilbo, practically snatching the dress bag from the hotel worker. It was ten till and he was on in twenty, and he was cutting it way too close. Despite his snappishness with the poor bellboy, he did tip well, considering they'd done as requested and had gone out of their way to deliver his suit to the conference. They were maybe even worth four stars on Yelp. Maybe.

Across the convention center, Thorin was gazing at his entirely too tight suit in shock and confusion. The pants were too short and his socks were showing. This...was a nightmare.

-----

Unintelligible screaming suddenly erupted from the men's room. Worried, Ori shuffled over and tapped on the door.

"Bilbo?"

"GOD BUGGERING SHIT."

"Ok."

-----

Bilbo had no choice but to deliver his speech in a suit that belonged to someone far bulkier and taller than him. He was positively swimming in it and he felt like an absolute fool.

Thorin sat down and ripped his pants.

-----

Afterward, there was socializing to be done and alcoholic drinks to be had, but Bilbo had no desire to join in, nor could he abide remaining in this awful suit for a second longer.

"I'm going back to the hotel," he sighed at Ori. "Then I'm going to sleep for twelve hours. And cry a little. Okay, a lot."

"You did great, Bilbo, really!" said Ori, his eyes big and honest.

"Sure." He waved a hand. "I'll text you when I've gotten my dignity back. Say hello to Dwalin for me."

"Will do!" Ori wiggled his fingers goodbye. "Good luck!"

He headed for the exit, following the crowd of people that were also cutting out early. Thank god for antisocial history geeks, Bilbo thought, distracted. That's how he bumped into someone practically running for the door.

The man had his hands over his arse, believe it or not, and he was sweating nervously as he sprinted past. Bilbo had looked up, ready to eviscerate this violator of his personal space verbally, but then stopped.

"You."

"You!"

He took a moment to look at Thorin Oakenshield properly, and then gaped at him – scandalized.

"That's my suit!”

----

What happened was this:

7 months earlier

1. "Hi. I'm Bilbo Baggins." 2. "Thorin Oakenshield." 3. "You're a linguist aren't you? Yes, I've heard about you. You specialize in Khuzdul. You know, I wrote a paper on the similarities between Quenya and Khuzdul and it turns out they're a lot alike. Ereborians, for example, took elements of Woodland phrasing and passed them off as their own, and according to–" 4. "...oh, is he leaving? Did I say something wrong?"

5 months earlier

1. A job offer 2. A formal meeting 3. "Mr. Baggins. Yes, I remember you. At least you don't look like a grocer today." 4. target acquired.

2 months earlier

1. "Chicago isn't much different from any other city, and Prim is there, and Ori...so I'll think about it, yeah." 2. Another formal meeting 3. UST 4. "That Baggins is a menace." 5. "Oakenshield can kiss my ass." 6. Let simmer.

Now

"You."

"You!"

"That's my suit!"

"And that's mine," said Thorin, peering at him confusedly. "There...was... a mix up."

"Obviously," Bilbo seethed. "Unless you just go around stealing people's clothes."

Thorin, thankfully, did not engage.

"SorryBagginsIhavetogo," he squeaked, and tried to edge away with his hands still firmly placed on his posterior.

"Hold on, what have you done?!"

There was no use trying to stop Bilbo from tearing his hands away and seeing the damage. Bilbo was truly an unstoppable force, and Thorin, from the very beginning of their rocky acquaintance, had been left utterly speechless in Bilbo's presence (either because Bilbo was aggravating him into silence or because he couldn't quite believe just how much noise was coming out of this little angry cinnamon roll person). And now Bilbo was pushing him toward the door and making demands. As was his wont.

"And I want my suit back! What's left of it! And take your hands off your butt."

Thorin groaned. "Let me at least have some dignity."

"No."

They took a cab back to the Omni and argued the entire way there, annoying the cab driver enough that at one point he laid on the horn to shut them up. Once they arrived, Thorin immediately set off for his rooms with Bilbo following closely behind. He didn't trust that Thorin would give him his suit back. Whatever.

In the hotel room, Bilbo was inspecting the state of his ripped pants sadly. Thorin stood there in his boxers, feeling a little guilty despite himself.

"I didn't think this day could get any worse," Bilbo sighed. "That was my favorite suit."

Thorin shifted from foot to foot. "Ah. Sorry."

For a second, it looked as though Bilbo was going to forgive him. For a second, his face was open and soft and friendly. And then the diva came rushing right back and they were squabbling heatedly again.

Neither of them knew who kissed who first and later they'd argue about that too.

----

It was cold out on the balcony, but the room was non-smoking and Bilbo was sorry, but the post-coital cigarette was not overrated, and Thorin (who he could see was peering at him from the bed) seemed rather pleased with how Bilbo looked out here; freezing bollocks and all. So pleased, in fact, that Thorin came out to join him.

Bilbo turned to gaze at the flat, sparkling city, as arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" Thorin whispered into his ear, his hands running up and down Bilbo's stomach.

"And nothing else," Bilbo teased. "I wanted to feel like I was in a movie."

Thorin kissed his neck, and that was very nice indeed. "Well, you're in the right place."

"Hmm."

Bilbo finished his cigarette and crushed it on the edge of the balcony. He closed his eyes, swaying a little as Thorin teased his neck, strong hips moving against him. "Mmm, you want to have another go?” said Bilbo. “My flight's not until tomorrow night."

Thorin abruptly drew away, and Bilbo felt a rush of confusion and panic. He turned around in Thorin's arms and stared up at him, scowling.

"Why've you suddenly gone cold?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm not," Thorin lied, trying to keep his face expressionless.

"You have," Bilbo insisted, planting his hands on his hips. "What's the problem? Are you regretting this now?"

He looked taken aback. "No! No, not...." He cleared his throat. "Not at all."

Bilbo glared at him. "Then what, Thorin?"

"The, uh, long distance relationships...thing. I'm not...I've never...."

Relieved, but still a bit frustrated, Bilbo huffed and shook his head. "Honestly? That's your problem? Lord."

Thorin opened his mouth to protest, his expression angry now, but Bilbo held up his hand.

"Now, I'm not saying that it has anything to do with you," Bilbo told him sternly. "But I've decided to take the job."

Thorin gaped for a moment.

"In Chicago?"

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "Yes, in Chicago. So...we wouldn't be long distance. Conveniently enough. I mean since I'd already decided to move before we had sex. So don't get cocky. Oi! Get that look off your face...."

Thorin was smirking. "Uh huh," he said. "Nothing to do with me. Right."

Bilbo only shook his head, and reached out and pulled Thorin close again. They kissed, hot and wet and new, and Bilbo couldn't help but arch toward that strong, wide chest. "Mmmm," he murmured, pulling away. "Just FYI, I'm keeping this shirt."

Thorin grinned against his mouth. "How about now?" he said, and then ripped the dress shirt open. Buttons pinged on the railing and a couple flew off into the night.

"GAH! Thorin!!”

BONUS