#bilbo drabble

[cosmic-glow]

Notes: What will Bilbo's reaction be when he discovers that someone has bought his house without him knowing?

Warnings: Bilbo x gn!reader; a little scary with a little plot; soft angst; SFW.

Bag End was a peaceful place to live, the hobbits were friendly and rarely started fights, the grass was green, there was a sparkling lake behind the hill, there were no wolves or dragons around... It was all the peace you needed after so many adventures. All the gold you got throughout your life, you spent to buy that house at the top of the hill, it was a difficult bargain, but it was worth it. The house was beautiful and huge, the coziest den you've ever been in, with round windows that allowed you to see the entire length of Bag End.

The house was perfect, the only problem was that strange things happened. First, your paintings kept falling off the walls, then you started losing things that were right under your nose, they suddenly disappeared and appeared in another place you hadn't left them, but the strangest thing was when started knocking on the door in the middle of the night and whenever you went to see there was no one. You tried to ignore it, coming up with an explanation for everything, hobbits love jokes like this, they must have just been trying to scare you into laughing a little. But the problem was when you started hearing footsteps and voices inside the house when you were sure there was no one there but you.

One afternoon, you were in the living room reading a book when you heard a loud bang coming from the kitchen, as if all the pans had been knocked over at the same time, glasses were being knocked down one at a time, the sound of glass breaking gave you goosebumps, but as soon as you arrived in the room, ready to catch the person who was tormenting your days, you were floored by the vision you saw. There was no one in the kitchen and there wasn't a single cutlery on the floor, all the dishes were stored in the cupboards and drawers as you had left them, was it all a figment of your imagination?

- Who is doing this?! Show up! You don't scare me, I'm not leaving! - you said, turning around and looking everywhere.

- This is not your house! - an enraged voice shouted from behind you.

When you turned around in fright, you found a small hobbit, wavy red hair and an angry face staring into the back of your eyes, how did he get in? Where did he hide? Or how did he pass by without you seeing him? And better: who was he?

- Who are you?

- The real owner of this house, Bilbo Baggins, and I should be asking who you are, intruder!

- I bought this house! I'm not an intruder! Get out of here!

- You get out of here! Now!!

Bilbo screamed and the walls and floor shook, you felt much smaller than the enraged hobbit, the residents of Bag End were usually peaceful, but that man seemed different, something told you that you had no idea what he was capable of.

- Look, there must have been a misunderstanding, I spent all my money to buy this house, and it was completely empty when I entered, I don't know if they lied to me, but if that was the case, they deceived us both.

- Sackville-Baggins, they must have been the ones who did this, those damned gold-thirsty... - he looked away from you and cursed under his breath.

- ... Well... And what do we do now? I have nowhere to go... - you started, afraid of irritating him again.

Bilbo was silent for a while, he shook his nose and walked past you to the living room, still silent, you followed him and when you arrived he was already sitting in an armchair with his back to you. A cloud of smoke beginning to form on the ceiling from the pipe he was smoking, the fireplace crackling in the background. He was fast.

- Bilbo...? - you called and he sighed.

- I don't know, it's not fair for me to kick you out when you were as deceived as I was... - he thought a little more and you waited - Stay, the house is big, we can share - he looked at you and smiled, now looking like a hobbit very different from what you had meet.

- Thank you, Bilbo.

[...]

The days passed and, to your surprise, it was very easy to get along with Baggins, after the anger disappeared, he revealed himself to be very friendly and kind, he committed himself to helping with the tasks and was very attentive, you never imagined you could have such deep conversations feelings with someone you had just met, but with Bilbo it was so easy, it was so comfortable to talk to him, you soon developed a deep affection for him.

- I never wanted to share my peace of living in Bag End with anyone, so I find it very interesting how you ended up becoming an extension of that feeling, and not a division, Y/n - he told you one night, a little before of you sleeping, taking you by surprise.

- You also brought me peace, Bilbo... - you smiled at him and, without thinking too much, kissed his cheek - ... Thank you for everything.

- Good night, Y/n - he said with the happiest smile you've ever seen on his face.

The next day you woke up early, Bilbo was already in the kitchen making coffee, you managed to get close enough in silence to scare him with a hug, he smiled when he saw it was you.

- Good morning, sleepyhead, did you have good dreams? - you confirmed without opening your mouth, still sleepy - I know you're sleepy, but can I ask you a little favor?

- Say...

- We ran out of nut cakes and I don't even have flour in the pantry to make another one, could you buy it at the market? People don't like me and the more I avoid them the better I get - you laughed and stretched.

- Okay, I'll go, but don't start eating breakfast before I get there! - you demanded.

- No way! - he joked.

At the market, you stared at the cakes in the window, unsure of which one to get while the bag of flour weighed under your arm. You didn't like nut cakes, but Bilbo did, so here you were.

- Can I help you? Oh! These were baked this morning, would you like to try a piece to choose? - the baker said.

- Oh no, it's not for me, it's for Bilbo, I don't particularly like walnut cake.

- For whom? - the baker asked with his eyebrows now drawn together.

- Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins, he's still living in the house on the hill - you were confused when the baker turned pale.

- I'm sorry but you must have been confused, as Mr Bilbo Baggins died decades ago.

- What? - now it was you who was confused.

- Yes, that's why the house was for sale, I don't know why Sackville-Baggins didn't keep it, as they always wanted it, but Mr. Baggins passed away and his grandson moved out, so the house was empty.

You left the bakery without saying anything else and without buying any cake. It wasn't possible, surely the baker had gotten confused, you had just spoken to Bilbo, touched him, he was making coffee in your kitchen, you were sharing the same house, how could he be dead? You entered the house, opening the door with force, causing it to slam against the wall announcing that you had arrived, the sound echoing throughout the house.

- Bilbo?!! - you called.

The house was silent, nothing, no one responded. You dropped the bag of flour at the entrance and started looking for the hobbit, the house becoming almost a maze for you. It seemed like every time you called his name it was like you were denying the reality that haunted you, it couldn't be true. When you entered his room, the room you left last, without even bothering to knock on the door first, it seemed like the truth was forcing you to accept it. He was gone. No, he had never even been here with you.

When hot tears came to your eyes, looking at the now emptier room, an item caught your attention, it was a red book on his desk. You picked it up and read the title: "There and Back Again". When you opened it, a small piece of paper that was inside fell out and landed on the bedroom floor, near the trunk. You took it and the tears finally fell when you read what was written.

“You were my best adventure, Y/n.

Love, Bilbo."

It was the only proof you had that everything you had experienced was real and not a lucid dream.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

[i-live-in-my-bookshelf]

Been thinking about how everyone would call Thorin 'Bilbo's Thorin' and it would start out as a joke, like one day during dinner Kili would jokingly say something along the line of 'He is Bilbo's Thorin now, he gets to choose what Bilbo makes for dinner, not us' and everyone would continue in different setting, only if Thorin or Bilbo is not around. Eventually Bofur who drank too much would say 'Bilbo's Thorin is here!' when Thorin opens the door to join a celebration in the dining hall, and would halt like a deer caught in the light. He would be so angry, yelling at them that they cannot under any circumstances call him that. He is no one's Thorin, if anything, Bilbo is his, not the other way around! But everyone was pretty drunk to care about his disapproval and they would laugh and joke while Balin would try to calm them down unsuccessfully. Thorin practically breathes fire, hands clutched, knuckles white when suddenly Bilbo appears in the door. Unknowingly asks "What's happening?" looking around the Dwarves having the time of their lifes, and Thorin seemingly having a stroke, and that is when the laughter erupts like a volcano. Thorin turns and leaves and Bilbo is standig there like a statue.

"What did you guys do?" Asks the dwarfs but they cant even say a word. Balin is the one telling Bilbo what made Thorin upset, and that he should probably go after him.

'Could you tell him they didn't mean it like that? He would listen to you' and Bilbo would go but on the way to him, he would smile. 'Bilbo's Thorin' mutters under his breath, loving how it sounds.

When he finds Thorin, he is sitting on the stone steps in one of the most solitary part of the castle. Bilbo sits next to him silently.

'Does this make you upset?' he starts uncertain 'That they call us that?'

Thorin would stay silent for a long time. Long enough to make Bilbo angry, and to stand up to leave him alone. But before he disappears Thorin says-

'No' it's silent, but it snaps. Still, he turns back to him, smiling.

'That's good, because I love it'

Thorin's anger dissolves quickly. 'I know' answers.

'Actually I think I love it so much, I want to hear it from you' says Bilbo, crossing his arms. Thorin just shakes his head, looking down shyly.

'Come on, my Thorin' coos Bilbo making him snap his head up in surprise.

'Wh- what?' stutters at the new nickname.

'I said my Thorin' repeats Bilbo, stepping closer and closer to him.

Bilbo stops just inches away from Thorin. In this way they can look into each others eyes, which is so rare, it makes Thorin forget everything, even his own name.

'I...' starts saying.

'No' he said firmly.

Thorin thinks for a second, weights his options, then finally says...

'My Bilbo'

The words roll down from his tongue like the sweetest music.

'Close enough' approves Bilbo. 'Remember this. I want to hear it often.'

[eradore]

More for @acorn-and-oakleaves 's Shire Summer Festival. Gonna keep combining two prompts each time cause it means I have to write less hahaha

prompts: "Are we both seeing that?" & "No, wait!"

Festival Masterlist

Dwalin finds his brother on a little crest of hill overlooking the camp one night, about two months into their quest. This isn't unusual, Balin has always sought peace and quiet in which to gather his thoughts. It's one of few, yet crucial similarities the brothers have always shared, even when they were young, their temperaments and tempers mixing like oil and water, they'd always shared a mutual understanding that sometimes - often, when Dwalin was still a tempestuous little Dwarfling - the best way to forgive one another, was to get the hell away from each other.

Which is why it's odd now, grown and come around the bend on their youthful misalignment, to know he's welcome in his brother's quiet reverie. Odder still to know he's not the cause.

Balin doesn't greet him as he sinks into place beside him, but he does scooch ever so slightly to the side to give him some more room and that's good enough for Dwalin. He doesn't smoke much anymore, but he takes a minute to watch Balin's pipe glow in the dark, a cherry little coal kept alive by the Dwarf's angry puffing.

He's not entirely certain what's transpired, but knows that look well enough by now.

"He'll come around," Dwalin says eventually, and contents himself to receive no answer. There's no need for one anyway, not when they both know who he means; not when they both know the truth of it, their king's temper growing shorter the closer they came to achieving - or missing - their goal, his forgiveness following just as quickly. It's made for a real ball buster of a quest, but it is heartening to know Thorin can accept criticism, even if it takes him a few days and many surly looks to do so.

Which is why he's surprised when Balin bothers to acknowledge his words at all, his lips curling in a wry smile around the stem of his pipe. "Believe he already has," he says, nodding at the circle of their encampment below, and Dwalin's gaze follows.

"By my beard," he mutters, eyes locked on the figure of their stoic young king. "Are both seeing this?"

"If what you're seeing is a lovesick fool of a Dwarf trying his damndest to braid a courting lock into a Hobbit's sleek little mop of hair, then aye, we see the same thing."

Silence stretches for long moments, so deep that Dwalin can hear the popping of the fire below, and it takes him a moment to recognize that the whole camp has fallen quiet, even the droning of Fili and Kili's inane chattering now ceased. Indeed, the only one fool enough to break it is the Hobbit himself, Bilbo's high, squeaking voice calling across the space easily enough. Dwalin catches something about a rabbit and a head of lettuce and needs hear no more to know it's not what commands such stillness.

"Do ye think he knows?"

Balin scoffs. "That timid creature? If he knew he'd be no more than a boiling puddle right now. Can't imagine this is exactly proper by his standards."

"It's barely proper by ours," Dwalin amends, and Balin hups in agreement. "I hadn't even realized Thorin had figured it out himself, yet."

"Aye, the stubborn lad. Thought he'd be burying our burglar in the royal tombs before he realized the epitaph should maybe read consort,'" Balin muses.

Dwalin takes a moment to picture it, the sadfuture that may have been, and the king who would have found no joy in the home which he had fought to reclaim. And yet, ass he watches, Thorin ties off his pitiful little braid and inspects it, no doubt resigning himself to a new daily schedule judging by the way he frowns at Bilbo's fine hair. Dwalin smiles ruefully. "Well, let's hope our Hobbit realizes sooner than that as well."

"Oh, I should think so," Balin assures, tamping out his bowl. Though his eyes remain glued to the pair below, assessing. "Bilbo is not nearly so stubbornly blinded as his other half."

Except just then, as if specifically meant to contradict the old Dwarf, Bilbo's clever fingers itch over his scalp, seeking out the thong that holds the braid in place, dithering all the while. "You know actually, now that it's in, I rather don't like how it pulls. Think I'll just manage with my hair in my face, thank you."

The eruption of movement that follows is impressive in it's coordination, all thirteen members of Thorin's original company all springing to attention as they beg him no wait! stop!

Divider by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[kainekillinggod]

Dís and Thorin actually should look really similar and so when Dís comes to Erebor, Bilbo sees her in the halls and says "hello darling🥰" bc he doesn't realize at first glance that it's her ☠️☠️☠️

And she's super fucking confused but just assumes it's a hobbit thing, and then like. 5 minutes later when Bilbo is doing whtvr he's doing, he just. Thinks. And then. Realizes.

And freaks the fuck out and tries to find her cuz "oh my god yeah, Thorin said his sister was coming soon how could I be so stupid oh my god I must look insane I hope I didn't offend her-"

And Dís and Thorin are just talking and catching up and Bilbo walks in super embarrassed and Dís greets him with a "Hello darling🥰" bc she assumes it's hobbit customs to say that.

Now Thorin is confused and Bilbo freaking tf out bc he thinks he's being made fun of and Dís is just sorta. Chilling and having a great time

[tetchy-frog]

Thorn’s Moving Mountain:

In which Thorin’s (spelt like Thorn because of a joke in the Howl’s Moving Castle books) heart is trapped in a star that also happens to be his sister who was also cursed and also Fíli is turnip head and-

Anyways, this AU has been marinating for a while now. Enjoy my silly little gays!

It’s extra funny because this is a little old and tbh my art style is very different now :’D

[wretchedanddivinee]

bagginshield plot bunny

Consort and Regent Bilbo Baggins must find a way to keep King Under the Mountain Thorin Oakenshield on the throne, while he and his heir's Kili and Fili recover from the Battle of Five Armies. A Challenge when Lord Dain of Iron Hill's cousin of Thorin is vying for the Throne as he believes his cousin won't make it through to the end of the week, Lady Dis is traveling across middle earth with the rest of the dwarrow from the Lonely Mountain. King Thranduil is demanding the White Gems of Lasgalen, saying they are rightfully his, and Bard the Bowman is somehow named King of Laketown and just wants help keeping his people alive as he hopes to reclaim his lost Kingdom of Dale. Thankfully Bilbo has the rest of the company, 10 dwarrow who are willing to do whatever is needed to keep the kingdom afloat until Thorin is back on his throne. What they don't expect is for Erebor to florish under Bilbo's rule, literally, who knew Hobbit's had Magick?

[chipsbarista]

It's Who We Are in the Dark

Ship: Thorin Oakenshield/Bilbo Baggins

Words: 1033

Tags: Chance Meeting, Angst.

Tw:. Depersonalization

Thorin sat there. Just sat there. Looking at the scenery. It was sad really, the leaves were all gone, and it was dreadfully cold, making the grass of the park a murky sort of yellow color. His thoughts were, naturally, racing.

“Mind if I sit here?” Came a soft, melodious voice.

Thorin turned to face the music. Blue eyes landing squarely on green eyes. That’s the first thing he noticed. The all encompassing, ever changing hues of those eyes. The second was the blonde bed of curls on this stranger's hair. Inviting. Like Thorin could just reach out and touch. He didn’t of course, he was not rude. This was, after all, a stranger.

“Go right ahead.” His voice came out gruff from lack of use. Had anyone talked to him today? Other than the barista this morning, who had to talk to him. He didn’t think so. He wished this wasn’t normal.

“Beautiful night, no? Cold to be sure, but beautiful nonetheless.” Said the creature next to him.

What time was it? He looked down at his watch. The watch Dís had got him. Before… Before… Before the incident. “I suppose.”

“I am Bilbo, by the way.” The creature, Bilbo, smiled. “Do you go here? Valeria, I mean.”

He was, of course, referring to the university. Valeria Nostradamus. It made sense, the question. He was sitting (alone) on the it spot of the campus. It was also two in the morning so this guy was also a lunatic. What did it matter though?

“I do.” He could feel his throat closing.

“So do I, I’m a journalism major. What about you?” Thorin wasn’t looking at Bilbo now. He looked squarely at the ground and the murky sort of yellow of the grass.

“Marine Biology,” He replied after a second.

“Oh! I heard the program is really good.” Then he giggled. “What's your name?”

“Thorin.”

“Thorin. Oh! That rolls right off the tongue does it not?” Thorin is looking at him again. He looks so carefree.

A pause.

“Tell me, why are you here?” Bilbo asks. And he means it innocently, Thorin thinks.

“Why are you here?” Thorin asks. Not so innocently.

“Needed to get out of the dorm.” And that’s when Bilbo’s smile fades. “That shoe box drives me into insanity. It feels like all my thoughts escape my mind only to bounce on the ceiling and right back at me.”

Thorin hums. “What sort of things were you thinking about?”

“Who I am in the middle of the night.” Bilbo admits. “It's like I act completely different when no one can see me, right? I dress differently, I talk differently, I think differently. It’s almost as if I am a completely different person. My friends, they don’t know this, but it feels like whenever I’m with them I have to fit this sort of mold.”

And then there is a pause again.

“Who are you in the middle of the night?” Bilbo whispers. And if it weren’t two in the morning, with no one else around, Thorin would’ve missed it. Soft as it was.

“I don’t even know who I am in the daylight, let alone in the middle of the night.” Thorin lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Grief, it has shaken me to my very core. And everything I thought I knew is gone. I have no dreams, no aspirations.”

“I’m so sorry, Thorin.” Bilbo’s hand lands on his. And it is strangely warm, for someone who’s not wearing gloves.

“Who are you in the middle of the night?” Thorin relishes in the warmth of Bilbo’s hand. That’s what he chooses to focus on. Anything to keep him from thinking about her. From reminding him that a year was all it took to forget her voice.

“I am emotion. I am adventure. I am the force of a thousand black holes.” He is grinning now. “Which is to say, I am of the goth persuasion. My friends don’t have a clue though. We grew up all in the same parts, where different is bad. So I grew up in a cookie cutter place.”

“But is that who you are?” Thorin asks, eyebrows scrunched together. He can’t imagine having someone’s entire existence summarized by… clothes alone.

“No,” Bilbo says, “I suppose not. I am, however, my thoughts. And they are imperfect, dark, and twisted.”

“I don’t think you’re imperfect, dark, nor twisted.” Thorin lets it slip past his lips.

“You’ve known me for a collective of…” Bilbo looks down at his watch. “Twenty minutes. I don’t think you’d have a good grasp of who I am. Not to mention you don’t know my thoughts.”

“Share them with me.” A plea.

“Looking through my thoughts is like looking through a roll of film. A film that has been burnt one too many times, and at times, spliced over.” Bilbo says, and it’s rehearsed, as if he has thought this, over and over and over again. Like a film. “Art has many interpretations and I am definitely art. If a hideous thing. And, like art, I am wholly sensorial.

“I often wonder if I haven’t been born as the wrong thing. It feels as though I was meant to be born a star. A literal star. I feel it, that energy surging through my veins. I feel it calling to me, space. Empty and vast. A soul like mine.” Bilbo grabs his hand then, moving it to his chest.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

“Do you feel it? Can you feel what I was meant to be?” Bilbo’s mouth is agape.

“I do.” And Thorin does. He feels that warmth, the warmth of the sun, sees the radiance in Bilbo’s eyes and curls alike. “A star. You are a star.”

Bilbo hums. “Most people would’ve called me disturbed by now.”

“I don’t think you are.” Thorin circles his thumb on Bilbo’s chest. “And I don’t think your thoughts are incorrect either.”

“Not dark and twisted? Not imperfect?” Bilbo’s eyes gleam at him.

“Would you call a star imperfect?” Thorin urges.

“I would call it the highest perfection there is.” Bilbo smiles.

“Then there you go.” And Bilbo smiles further. A star.

[mithrilhearts]

A (Green)House Built for Two

bagginshield | bilbo stays in erebor | 5.7k

I had the absolute honor of getting to write a fic for one of @mulasawala's wonderful Bagginshield pieces for Scribbles & Drabbles this year! I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did, and thank you to @fall-for-tolkien for organizing this amazing event!

Two years after the Battle of the Five Armies, Bilbo begins to show signs of being homesick. Unable to fathom the idea that Bilbo may want to leave the mountain for his Shire home, Thorin takes on a project to bring a little bit of the Shire's greenery to Erebor.

↳ NOW ON AO3

[cilil]

⸙ Prompt: Sweet Pastries | Thorin x Bilbo ⸙ Synopsis: [Another snippet from the band AU] Thorin witnesses the true power of Bilbo when it comes to tea time. ⸙ Warnings: Bilbo breaking the laws of physics None. Just fluff ⸙ Drabble

» AN: A gift for @lordoftherazzles. Thank you for being such a kind and sweet person, I appreciate you so much. Hope you enjoy this one!💕

The situation Thorin found himself in was unexpected, if not bizarre.

There he sat, on Bilbo's cushy, tasteful couch, hair messy and band outfit still on, while his boyfriend joyfully recounted his latest fruitful gardening project and made them some tea. 

The most intimidating – and simultaneously alluring – thing, however, was the mountain of sweets, pies and pastries that Bilbo stacked on the table in defiance of gravity. 

Touched, Thorin cleared his throat. "You put in so much effort." 

"For you always." And Bilbo's mien lit up triumphantly when the final plate had successfully been placed and all remained in balance.

Yes, I felt an all-encompassing need to smuggle an "unexpected" into this.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Fishing Expedition

Join a wonderful exchange event with lots of art, writing and fun!

-> Info Post

-> Rules Update

Many arts per person, multiple claims, and open many open prompts!

What more does your heart desire? If you have any questions, feel free to hmu or contact @fall-for-tolkien!

[periantari]

For hobbit day 2024 on Sept 22

Every year the damp leaves on the ground reminded Frodo of Bilbo’s birthday party where he departed from the Shire seemingly forever. When September 22nd approached, he toasted to Bilbo. His cousins and friends would ask him why he would.

“Do you even know where he is?”

“Why would you keep this tradition?”

“Why would he depart like a crazy hobbit? I knew he was always crazy.”

Frodo would just shake his head and smile within; he knew that his eccentric cousin was still alive. He felt convinced, and one day he would follow in his footsteps and find Bilbo.

[eradore]

Combining two of @/acorn-and-oakleaves Shire Summer Festival prompts (might continue to do it this way as I am notoriously awful at completing these, and this would be easier.)

Prompts are: "I should very much like to kiss you right now" & "Please, put that down"

CW: jealousy. Not proof read.

Festival Masterlist

The sun is still low enough to stream through Bilbo's little window when he settles down at his desk. It's the perfect writing conditions: warm, golden light warming his face and hands, a mug of tea to warm the rest of him. There's a gaggle of women gathering round outside preparing for nice picnic on the river later and he's half a mind to see if they'd like company, but he decides he'd rather keep it for later. Besides, it wouldn't do to invite oneself along. Better to just make his own way down when he's finished with a nice snack of his own in arms and make such pleasant conversation they'll have no choice but to ask him to sit with them, he decides, taking another sip of his tea. He sighs in delight, noting the subtler tones of the blend, brewed to perfection. Yes, that'll be the way of it. But first, the writing needs done.

Eyes still closed as he revels in the soft hours between second breakfast and elevensies, his hands move on muscle memory alone, nib finding ink, soft press against the pad to ensure there will be no blots -

But he must not have done a very good job of it, because he only manages to stare in confusion at his empty easel for no longer than three seconds before the first ink drop falls to the desk with a definitive plop.

"It's too early for Dwarrow," he mutters, nose twitching. "Much too early." There's a frantic edge to his voice as he moves throughout his own dwelling, as if he's trying to reassure himself there's no possible way his house guests have found his writing. (It's not, definitely not. Since they've arrived, they've liked nothing better than to sleep all day so as to miss the sun and stay up all night drinking all his stores.) He's been nothing but gracious to them, staying up far past supper to entertain because he knows how much they prefer staying underground when it doesn't involve so much sunlight and windows. It would be some new manner of cruelty to pay him back this way, sneaking into his study at odd hours to pry into writings! He simply can't believe it of any of them. Perhaps if Nori had come, or Balin, being a cautious sort, but it's only Bifu and Bofur, Dwalin, Ori and Dori, and Thorin. Surely none of them would be the type to -

His grimace pulls from one side of the face to other as he looks down the wing where they're staying warily. There's a glow coming from under Thorin's door, as if he hasn't yet bothered to pull his drapes. "Far too early."

--

"Master Baggins," the king drawls once he's bid Bilbo enter. He's at the secretary, with his broad back turned to the door. Just busywork, Bilbo assures himself. A king must have accounts to review, after all, just because he's reading doesn't mean he's reading a Hobbit's silly memoirs.

"Uh, good morning," Bilbo hedges, cringing to himself as he slips one step closer in an attempt to peer over his guest's shoulder.

Thorin doesn't turn to him. There's a shuffle of papers as if a cast swath of book is being flipped past, and then the King's voice is just so slightly off when he asks, "What do you mean?"

Ah.

"No. No, no, no," Bilbo mutters as he stamps closer. "Thorin Oakenshield, that is not -!"

The man finally turns to him, his robe gaped wide to reveal a frankly indecent amount of chest hair and old, blue ink. Bilbo mildly notes that perhaps it's for the best he sleeps all day. He cannot imagine trying to join a picnic with this man in tow. Thorin's still got one hand on the desk, thick fingers propping Bilbo's Unexpected Journey open to a fair few pages. Bilbo notes with some horror how far he's been able to read.

"- ready for reading," Bilbo splutters. It's as good a reason as any to keep his guest from thumbing through it.

"I'll say," Thorin rumbles, leaning back toward the desk so he can turn to one of his marked pages. "You do know how secretive Dwarves are, yes?" He asks patronizingly.

Bilbo twitches, trying to catch a peek at the page before Thorin can say any more.

"You have gathered this?"

"Yes, I've gathered it!" Bilbo snaps, and the king gives him a rather unimpressed glare.

"So you can appreciate why Dwalin brought me this? Why he thought I might find it interesting to know exactly what you're writing about?"

"I've made no mention of any secret doors, or secret languages, or even secret stones," Bilbo snarks, trying to make a desperate lunge for the book.

"And yet you find the time to reveal so much more," Thorin counters, easily spinning out of reach with the book held aloft.

Bilbo could probably still grab it, but he will not participate in such petty games as keep away. "Put that down, please," he begs instead. He still has his pride.

"Braids, for example." Thorin recites, "'Dwarves are very particular about their hair, and their beards. There seems to be a language about it, one they seem neither inclined to tell me, nor lenient with my lack of knowledge upon. Since starting, I have offended Bombur by not knowing he whole host of children, embarrassed myself by not realizing I wasn't the only gainfully employed robber amongst ourselves, and apparently offered my services up as a cobbler. The only sense I can seem to make of all this is that King Thorin -.'"

"Right," Bilbo decides, lunging for the book. Thorin lifts it near to the rafters easily, leaving Bilbo hopping like a child after it as he continues, voice descending to the gravel.

"- 'keeps his beard short as a sign of repentance for the kingdom he believes himself to have lost.'" He glowers down at Bilbo impressively, his stringy hair hanging around them both. "Is this not secret?"

"I think it's possible you're being a little drama -!"

Thorin spins again, holding Bilbo back behind him now with a thick arm barring him from slipping past. "Or maybe beads and jewelry? You seem to know quite a bit about Dwalin's ear cuff," he accuses, and then his voice rises as if to continue reciting, and Bilbo makes a desperate bid to retrieve his book. He knows what that passage contains, knows he may have gotten a bit carried away talking about the other Dwarf's partially missing ear, and how prone he'd been to imagining the fight which took it. Bilbo had always been prone to imagining rather... impressive fights.

(Actually, he hadn't, thank you. Can trace the exact moment he'd become rather taken with them, but it would do him no ounce of good to mention that here, so he didn't.)

"You've made your point!" The Hobbit grits, still trying to lunge for his book.

"Have I?" The king counters, continuing to twist away. There's a rustling of pages before he continues to drone. "'There is, also, a language of tattoos, though those I cannot decipher. I have noted while bathing that each Dwarrow carries many more than he maybe ought, though of course that's easy for me to say considering I am not one. Dwalin is the most heavily decorated, of course. His inkings are not confined by the hem of his attire like the rest of them, and indeed the marking only get more dense as more skin is revealed -.' You know, you talk about Dwalin a lot in here."

Yes. Dwalin. "Will you please put that down now?"

"'They each carry a number of knots on their chests,'" Thorin continues, completely ignoring Bilbo, and the Hobbit pales. "'This is how I know they have a shared meaning, the placement and features are all too similar. Whatever they mean, Thorin wears the most with twin knots upon his breasts which bleed into an intricate belt of knots below. Jarring though they are, they cannot be called ugly, for the artist who did them seems to have had a great eye for form and figure, each line cast in a way to only accentuate the musculature there.'"

These last words are drawn out slow and accusatory as Thorin finally turns to face his host while slamming the book closed with enough force to send a gust of wind ruffling Bilbo's curls.

"Master Baggins," he drawls again.

"Don't!" The Hobbit snaps, wheeling away and shaking his finger as if trying to ward off the very air surrounding them, which has grown oppressive and close.

As always, Thorin ignores him. "I'd no idea you'd such a keen eye for figure."

"Thorin -!"

"Tell me, did you find Dwalin's decorations so well-suited for his musculature?"

Bilbo pinches the bridge of his nose. He'd rather talk about Smaug himself, or the Elves pass as breakfast than Dwalin at the moment; but he'd rather talk about the other Dwarf than the one in front of him, also. "Yes I suppose I found the ones upon his shoulders particularly complementary."

A beat passes. Another. Bilbo still cannot look his guest in the eye.

"I don't want to talk about Dwalin," Thorin decides, throwing the book rather unceremoniously onto the secretary. Bilbo scrambles after it, but the king hardly seems to notice, his voice lifted to be heard over the Hobbit's mad dash. "I want to talk about what possessed you to write about all this in the first place."

"Well, I lived among you for a year, I could hardly help but pick up on things," Bilbo defends peevishly, and then bites off his follow up with a cry when he realizes the book in his hands has been dogeared!

Thorin says something else - probably, at least, he always has needed the last word - but Bilbo isn't listening, rifling through the damaged pages to settle them back into position. He can't help but read as he goes, frustration not enough to suppress his curiosity. It's not until the third page that he spots the similarities.

Dwalin's ax, his family tree (near as Bilbo can puzzle it, at least.) Dwalin, Dwalin, Dwalin.

Well, at least Thorin hadn't been marking off mentions of himself. Bilbo can handle rewriting a damaged page or two, but the whole confounded book would have been a great ask.

"Thorin," he tries, clearing his throat.

The man in question continues to rant.

"Thorin."

"- Have you so little regard for our customs? You seem to know them well enough, and yet you forget -!"

Bilbo's nose is twitching, a sure sign he's about to do something stupid. "Thorin."

"- you continue to disregard all sense of -!"

"Thorin!"

The king's scowl is impressive as always. Ordinarily, it would be enough to make Bilbo wilt, but he's always prided himself on his ability to soldier through, when it's really important, and he believes this time it is.

Bilbo opens the book at random and slims until he finds the name. It's easy because it's always there, his spidery scrawl turned neat as he shapes the letters with precise care. "Thorin takes no breakfast most days, the royal fool. I do believe he is fueled by nothing more than contempt and duty. Me, I favor the little fried brook trouts Fíli caught this morning.' There, you see?"

For his part, Thorin quite obviously doesn't, continuing to glare at the Hobbit with such intensity that for a moment Bilbo feels as if they're back on the battlements and he swallows past the mounting fear building in his belly as he selects a new page. He's no time for doubt just now.

"Here, look," he says, turning the book so Thorin can see as he points to the Dwarf's name. Again and again he does this, nimble fingers drawn like a magnet to the neat letters. He's never noticed how the stand out on the page before. He's loath to rewrite all these pages as well, but this simply won't do. It's no wonder Dwalin would have brought Thorin the book, the meddlesome beast - not to his king, who would take umbrage with the security of all things, good gracious, but to his friend who he probably figured would want to know how lovesick his burglar was.

Must be they've always been this obvious.

"You see now?" He prompts, again guiding Thorin's eye to a paragraph evidently devoted entirely into chronicling the way the king's voice gets impossibly more gravelly in the morning. The rewrite is looking more and more likely by the minute.

"See what, Master Baggins?"

"Oh, you Dwarves -. You're so pigheaded!" Bilbo drops the book onto the bed, nearly fed up with the whole affair. "I'd say maybe I should spend the rest of these pages pining after Dwalin because at least he has some sense about him, but it seems we're too well matched, you and I."

"What are you saying?" Thorin fumes.

"Honestly, it's like you're trying to be obstinate," Bilbo mutters. And then, because he's long since learned the best route one can take when dealing with a Dwarf is the direct one, he clears his throat and says, "I'm in love with you, Thorin."

He expects to have to fight about it because they've done a lot of that through the years, but Thorin just looks dumbfounded. "You what?"

Bilbo stamps his foot. "I said I'm in love with you! Now don't ask me why, because for the life of me I can't come up with a singular good quality of yours, you jealous creature, but if you take another look at that book I'm sure you'll find a million of them -." Thorin makes to protest but Bilbo steams on, bullying into the king's space like he owns it because, well, it's his house and he does. "And I'm saying that I should very much like to kiss you now."

He's wrapped up in thick arms before he can even finish his demand.

divider by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[elronds-library]

Growing Things

by Evandar

Part 4 of Tolkien Drabbles

Bilbo is still a Hobbit at heart, and Hobbits are known for their ability to make things grow.

General, No Archive Warnings

Words: 104

[sysig]

What are some rare characters you love that you think people don’t draw or write about enough

Do Max and Dex count I love them and I feel like I'm approximately 80% of the Helix fandom rn lol

Doug Peterson and Russ Frushtick from Law Abiding Citizen - the fandom has gotten real quiet over time but I still love them so much ♥ There's a lot you can read into or leave silly with their dynamic, I still wholeheartedly recommend the emerge, transformed series as one of my favourite interpretations of Russ especially 💕

The Editor from Jazzpunk - he's just a silly little guy! It's honestly such a shame that he's only really in the last chapter, I would love to see him explored more, he's the worst ♪

Tatsumi Souichi from Koisuru Boukun - genuinely one of my all-time favourite characters, and The Only Good Tsundere as far as I'm concerned lol. I'm gonna write about him! I've got my fanfic and video essay sitting in my drafts, but like agh!! He's so interesting!!! So beautifully flawed - he's internally consistent which is my Favourite - and watching him grow and change while still being himself over literal years has been a truly unparalleled experience as a reader 💖

Luke Wigglebig and Florette from Pajama Sam: You Are What You Eat From Your Head To Your Feet - I joked before about being the only person on the internet who ships them but like, I'm pretty sure that's actually true lol. Even just more fanart of them by themselves would make me happy, they're so cute!! Especially Luke, his design is adorable

And then probably a more well-known one but I haven't been following his fandom popularity lately haha, Fai D. Flowrite from Tsubasa - him, Nova, and Watanuki move in and out of being my CLAMP faves, though Fai is probably the most complex of the three of them. And he's a trash man! A garbage fire of a wizard ♥ I love him

[johnmurphysgirl]

DEPTH; BILBO X THORIN DRABBLE/ ONE SHOT.

The yearning for his hobbit hole in Bag-End had yet to cease; the rolling hills of the Shire calls to him on his arduous journey, for which he must ignore. A peaceful little life he had had. Most days, he tries to distract himself with thoughts of his arm chair, his dishes, second breakfast, and most importantly, tea time. 

It's easier to yearn for something he had known, rather than the man sleeping a few inches from where Bilbo sat, unblinking in the damp cave they'd found themselves in. He could not help it. It didn't matter how hard he'd tried, he found himself drawn to the King under the Mountain in ways Bilbo could never imagine before.

It is wrong, it is wrong, it is wrong, his mind tortures him in the dark; wrong, for whatever reason, didn't really matter. 

The thing that truly matters is what Thorin would think of him, if he knew. If he knew what it was exactly Bilbo thought about in the dark, how watching Thorin sleep never once bores him. In fact, Thorin has never looked more beautiful.

 His eyes are relaxed; unguarded in the safety of his dreams. A soft but still somehow smug smile on his lips. Bilbo groans.

 He's doing it again isn't he?

Bilbo is too lost in his hopeless daydreams to notice Thorin's eyelids flutter, and then open. His eyes adjust to the darkness of the cave, before they settle on Bilbo's pensive face. He doesn't speak. Not yet. Instead, he, too, takes a moment to soak in the others' appearance. To see a side of him that the others would never get a chance to. 

After all, Thorin is not blind. If it weren't for Kili's incessant teasing, and Bilbo's eyes following him everywhere, he probably would be; but he isn't. 

"It is late," Thorin says, interrupting the silence with a voice thick with sleep. "I will take over your watch. You, master Baggins, sleep." 

Bilbo nearly drops his watch in surprise at Thorin's voice, before he shakes his head. 

"No, no, don't you worry a nickle about me," he says instead, a soft smile on his face. "You need it more than I." 

Thorin snorts uncharacteristically; what have they turned into? A gallant knight and a chivalrous King? Instead of offering a reply, he moves and sits besides the master burglar; the two sit in companionable silence for quite a while. The gentle breeze floating in through the open mouth of the cave enough to comfort the two men, as their arms gently touch but neither move to pull it away. 

It's just them. No need to fret themselves with titles and confusion, of what they could or couldn't do, or whether their interaction is entirely proper. A hobbit and a dwarf; but so much more than that. 

"I'm.. sorry, Thorin," Bilbo says after a while. "I can't sit here and look at you and pretend that I don't wish to.. to.." 

"I know, Bilbo," Thorin interrupts, his blue gaze piercing into the Hobbit's eyes. He doesn't think about what he's doing, what he could change, or how this will all be perceived in the daylight hours. Thorin knows if he allowed himself to think, he would never have leaned closer, so close he could feel Bilbo's breath. "A thousand sunsets could never compare to the innocence of a first kiss." 

It's all so uncharacteristic; so Kingly of Thorin, as if he were saying it to a fair maiden in a garden, but he meant them. The words he uttered so carelessly. He meant it, and he wasn't sure what scared him the most.

 Before he can get lost in throes of doubt, he leans forward just enough and presses their lips together. 

[chipsbarista]

An Excerpt from my Bagginshield drabble titled "Normalcy"

“I don’t know why I forgive you. I just do. I keep thinking it’s because I want a sense of normalcy back, that I could magically feel the same way about you as I did during our journey. I remember you then so distinctly. So honorable. So Determined. So… Lovable. And yet here you are now, drenched in this Gold sickness, that consumes you from the inside out and I look at myself and see what was once love turn into grief. And the funny thing is you are still among us. But I am grieving you for a lost love. You are not the same Thorin Oakenshield. I may have betrayed you, but you betrayed us, me, first.”

I wrote this while listening to "Normalcy" by Gigi Perez. It's such a delightfully sad song.