Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
bilbo baggins would love tumblr so much…the anonymity…..the tomfoolery…..the outright lying for funsies….the fact that he could guarantee none of his neighbours would be on here too……
retiring isn’t enough i need to use a magical object of unspeakable evil to publicly vanish under mysterious circumstances and go couch surf in another country
you’re in his dms I’m in his house writing poetry about his estranged father we are not the same
collecting all my blorbos together like a sad little poetry society (the fellowship of the ring)
if u see me still “online” after i have “slipped on the ring of malice forged by the dark lord to avoid being seen by my irritating relatives” no u didnt xxx
bitchy blogging from my secret pantry
mutuals i am letting you turn up at my door uninvited and do unspeakable things to my plumbing
being mutuals isn’t enough we need to burgle a dragon hoard together
Smaug (birth unknown – Third Age 2941) was the greatest fire-breathing dragon of the Third Age. Details of his origin are unknown, but in T.A. 2770 he attacked the Lonely Mountain and the town of Dale. He claimed the treasure of the mountain for himself and forced Thrór, King under the Mountain, and his people into exile. Thorin’s quest - with the help of his burglar Bilbo Baggins - to reclaim the treasure ended in success when Smaug was slain by Bard in T.A. 2941.
I had the honor of drawing another awesome bagginshield piece for @lordoftherazzles !! Please check out their vampire/hunter au Where The Shadows Lie and give it some love!!
“Papercraft” not “Origami” cause I cheated with the pants and cravat and used scissors on both. The jacket and shirt though are completely folded from intact sheets of paper.
appreciation post for characters who can say “at your service” in a tone of voice that suggests they will gleefully do anything within their power to cause problems for you on purpose
