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Gregory, my love, you are walking just fine, but you are also hurting my hand.

The Brothers Ri, modern setting.

Dori is apparently just as strong as ever.

“I’ve never been so wrong in my entire life.”

And Thorin was hugging the very surprised burglar and the company cheered. Dwalin let out a deep sigh of relief and leaned on his hammer.

Something touched his hand and he looked up.

The scribe of the group had taken his hand and was pointedly not looking at him, only daring to take a small glance to see if the warrior would be mad at him.

Dwalin wasn’t. Instead he smiled and gave the slightly trembling hand a small squeeze. He could swear that Ori blushed just a bit before he stepped closer to him.

shoveaspockinit:

Mycroft is the Iceman, unfeeling and cold. Almost robotic. Wouldn’t it be interesting if he was a metal man? Perhaps one with a dishy, greying mechanic? Mystrade AU, either futuristic or steampunk, where Mycroft is a robot or machine of some kind and Lestrade is his mechanic. 

He was knelt between the robot’s legs, screwing a screw on the inner thigh.

The leg had given in suddenly while the robot was making coffee. Gregory heard the racket made by the falling robot and he had come to see what was going on.

“I seem to have fallen down, sir,” Mycroft had said calmly. “I think there’s something wrong with my right leg.”

“Okay. Stay here, I’m going to get my tools and fix it,” Gregory had said and lifted Mycroft onto the table in a sitting position.

Gregory had fixed what was wrong and now he was finishing his job.

Mycroft moved his hand, letting it land gently on the silver hair. Gregory looked up and Mycroft could see his pupils grow, just a bit. Mycroft’s hand slipped to Gregory’s cheek and his thumb on Gregory’s lips. Gregory opened his mouth and Mycroft let his hand slip lower to Gregory’s neck and the racing pulse.

“Thank you for fixing my leg.”

Gregory managed a smile as he stood. Mycroft’s hand stayed where it was since Gregory made no move to shrug it off. “It’s my job to fix it. I did build you from scratch, you know.” He stepped back and Mycroft’s hand fell off. “Now, stand up. Let’s see if it works.”

Mycroft stepped down from the table and tested the leg. It felt as reliable as ever.  Mycroft looked up to Gregory and smiled. “Thank you.”

Gregory smiled and opened his mouth to reply. Mycroft stepped closer to him and pressed his mouth against Gregory’s. He pulled away and went to get the coffee for Gregory. He pushed the mug to Gregory’s listless hand and turned to wash the dishes.

Suddenly Gregory shook his head. “Mycroft?”

“Yes, sir?”

“What the hell was that?”

• Balin -> Bailey Fuller
• Dwalin -> Daniel Fuller

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• Gandalf -> Gabriel Gray
• Bilbo -> Bill (William) Baggins (or Baggs, I haven’t decided)

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• Thorin -> Thorne Oak
• Fili -> Philip Oak
• Kili -> Keaton Oak

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Since I couldn’t be arsed to draw them, I’ll write short bios of them here. The same AU as this and this, I think I’ll call it Flashback ‘verse.

So, choppy, failcat-cannot-english-TL;DR-meta-fic-planning under the cut.

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I may or may not be making another modern AU… Inspired by the Boffins vid I wrote a fic for a few weeks ago. Everyone have been reincarnated and they start having vivid dreams about their pasts.

Backstory? Backstory.

Dorian Rye owns an antique shop and he likes tea, especially his own blends (some of which may or may not contain dubious herbs in them, but let’s be honest here, if you were a big brother for Norris, would you be able to take it without getting high every once in a while?). He’s secretly a weightlifter.

Norris… Okay, before I tell you anything about him, let me tell you that I giggled way too much while drawing him because the mental image of Jed Brophy with a trihawk is hilarious. Okay, Norris. Well, you can probably tell, he’s a punk-rocker and… I really haven’t thought much… He’s still a thief…? I can’t get a hold of him, dammit. >:I

Oliver is a librarian and he takes the dreams very calmly. He starts writing a book based on them, in fact. But when he hears that other people have started getting freaky dreams too, he starts to investigate and eventually bumps into Brandon (Bofur, although I may change the name if I find a better one. Suggestions are welcomed!). (But not before he visits Daniel (Dwalin) in a mental hospital hehehe.)

We shall see if I have the patience to draw them all. That’d be like… Fifteen or seventeen people, if I count Azog and Smaug. Which I probably don’t.

Next up are the Ur bros (and Bilbo, maybe), who I should have drawn first since it’s Bofur-centric thing, after all… (I say “next up”, but god knows when I’ll get off of my lazy ass and draw them :Ic)

ajirzecwredny:

miljathefailcat:

ajirzecwredny:

I’ve noticed an unsetting lack of Boffins here on YT, that’s why I made this.

And this one for a change have a plot.
Members of Thorin’s company are starting to remember their past life and they’re not quite sure how to deal with it. Most of them think they’re losing their mind. Bilbo has a depressions, he goes to therapy and tries to push all weird flashbacks away. There’s also Bofur who accepted his past and is strong-minded to find his friends. Especially Bilbo, Bombur and Bifur. He managed to find Thorin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili and all of them are a victims of their past lives. After some time he sees a picture of Bilbo in the newspaper. His happiness faded when he noticed that the former hobbit doesn’t really like the idea of reunion. Baggins tries really hard to have a normal life and this odd lad who happened to be a moustached man from his dreams just came out from nowhere claiming that he, in fact, is not crazy and all his dream are just memories. 

I challenge someone to write me a fanfiction out of this! Pretty please?

“No!”

“… Wh-what do you-“

“No, they… The dreams don’t mean anything! They are just dreams! I’ve been trying to recover from them even if they make me feel that nothing of this is real! They make me feel like… like a schizophrenic! And now you stumble in and tell it’s all memories?! I can’t…” The man in front of Bofur clutched his head, like he was in pain. “Just dreams…”

Bofur took a step forward, wanting to help him - the hobbit, the burglar, his Bilbo - but the man jolted away and snarled with shocking rage in his voice: “Don’t! Don’t come any closer. I’ve had enough of you, following me around and- and stalking me! Leave me alone!”

Bilbo’s words hurt Bofur like a physical blow. “Bilbo, I…”

“I don’t want to hear it! We’re done!” Bilbo turned his back to Bofur and took a few steps before turning back around. “And if I ever see you again, I’ll call the police! I’ll get a restraining order! Anything to get you out of my life!”

Bofur’s breath hitched. Bilbo nodded, satisfied to see that the message had sunk in, and started striding towards the door.

Bilbo’s legs took a misstep and ripped Bofur out of his shock.

I can’t let this end like this!

“Blunt the knives, bend the forks…”

Bilbo’s footsteps slowed but didn’t stop.

“Smash the bottles and burn the corks!”

Bilbo stopped.

“Chip the glasses and crack the plates…”

Bilbo turned around, eyes shining with tears.

“That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!”

Bofur let the echo repeat the last words while he waited for Bilbo’s reaction.

Bilbo stared at Bofur for a long, tense moment, until he blinked and a tear rolled down on his cheek. His knees gave in, but Bofur quickly caught him and held him tightly like it would keep him from breaking apart.

Bilbo let out a wrecked sob and clung to Bofur. Or maybe tried to push the man away, we may never know. “I haven’t told about that song to anyone. How did you… Just how?”

Bofur chuckled, blinking his own tears away, and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss onto Bilbo’s forehead. “I’m the one with the hat,” he whispered.

At that, Bilbo moved far enough to properly look at Bofur. He narrowed his eyes, comparing this man to the one with the hat and the moustache.

Finally, realization dawned on his face. “Bofur.”

Bofur could have kissed him, but restrained himself. “Yes!”

Bilbo’s eyes raked over Bofur’s face, drinking his new appearance. Carefully, he lifted his hand and traced it on Bofur’s upper lip. “You look so different without the moustache,” he said softly, so softly that it might not have been meant for Bofur at all.

Bofur smiled and shrugged. “I tried growing one, but I couldn’t get it long enough. Made me look like a paedophile.”

Bilbo huffed a laugh. He tilted his head until his forehead was against Bofur’s. “You have no idea how glad I am that I’m not insane,” he murmured. Bofur could feel his breath on his lips.

Bofur bumped their noses together and hummed.

Bilbo tilted his head to the side and stooped closer to Bofur, making their lips brush. Bofur met the movement with a gentle kiss. Bilbo’s breath hitched and he dove in, deepening the kiss. Bofur was momentarily taken back by Bilbo’s enthusiasm, but he responded eagerly.

Soon Bofur was lying on his back on the floor and Bilbo was straddling his waist. Then Bilbo broke the kiss and punched Bofur in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”

“You bloody idiot!” Bilbo shouted, punctuating every word with a punch. “Why didn’t you do that sooner?”

“Ow, ow ow!!” Bofur grabbed Bilbo’s hands to make the punches stop. “D-do what?! Kiss you?”

Bilbo snorted. “No, I meant the song! It would have saved so much time!”

Bofur opened his mouth to answer, but his phone vibrated in his pocket. Bilbo apparently also felt it because he jolted.

“What was that?”

Bofur chuckled. “It’s just my phone, you buffoon.” He ran his thumbs over Bilbo’s hands. “If I let your hands go, will you promise not to punch me?”

Bilbo scoffed. “Maybe.”

Bofur let go of the hands and dug his phone out. A text from Thorin, asking if he’d found him. Bofur answered him an affirmative and told him that Bilbo remembers.

As Bofur tapped at his phone, Bilbo fidgeted a bit. “Listen, I’m sorry that I was so rude to you. I didn’t know who you were.”

Bofur smiled, sat up and pecked Bilbo’s lips. “I’m sorry for not trying to contact you sooner. I just… I had no idea what to say.”

Bilbo huffed. “You could have asked me for a pint, for starters. Or to the-“

Bofur’s ringtone interrupted him. Thorin. Bofur frowned. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He lifted the phone to his ear.

“We need to meet him,” Thorin said as soon as Bofur answered.

“I’ll ask him,” Bofur said and hung up. “That was Thorin.”

Bilbo’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember. “The king?”

“The king,” Bofur confirmed. “He wants to meet you.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened. “I… Yes.”

Bofur smiled and patted Bilbo’s thigh. “Whenever you’re ready. Although my legs are falling asleep, just so you know.”

As Bofur spoke, Bilbo realized that he was still on Bofur’s lap and he turned bright red and jumped up. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Bofur chuckled and pressed a quick kiss onto Bilbo’s nose. “It’s fine. Ready to meet the king under the mountain, master hobbit?”

Bilbo wiped his eyes and smiled. “Lead the way, master dwarf.”

I think I love you! This is amazing and hilarious. I lost it at pedophile 8D

THANK YOU!

I’m glad you like it! UvU