I don't own The Hobbit.
This is just gonna be a bunch of random stories, some will be long and some will be short. I don't have the energy to actually dedicate myself to write a real story right now so I'm settling for drabbles.
Anyway starting with a short one first.
First: In which the company does not believe in Bofur's imaginary roommate.
Thirteen rowdy men crowded the living room of Bofur's flat, as they had every Friday night for the past two years. Before he'd moved to the spacious 3rd floor flat they'd squeeze into Thorin's for the weekly bash.
"So I tell him he can fuck himself and throw him out on his ass," Dori laughs, "Shoulda seen the lads face." The company roars with laughter, imagining the young man who'd thought he could start a fight with Dori in his own bar.
Bofur himself is reminded immediately of another tale that he knows the guys would get kick out of, "If ya think that's something, just wait til I tell you what Bilbo-" A collective groan goes up amongst the men and the host glares at his friends and family. "What!? I'm tellin ya-"
"Bofur, lad, don't get us wrong, I'm sure the stories great." Balin appeases.
Dwalin scoffs, "Except for the fact that we don't wanna hear no stories you made up off the top of your head."
"Made up!" Bofur is offended.
"Made up." Dwalin agrees as he takes a gulp of beer, "You've been saying Bilbo this and Bilbo that for two years now, but we never met no Bilbo. Over every week and we can't catch sight of this mysterious roommate of yours? Yeah, right."
"He's a photographer, so-" Bofur is frustrated to once again be interrupted.
"So he works odd hours and travels a lot." Kili finishes for him.
"And we can't see his room cause he locks it when he leaves." Fili adds.
Even Thorin decides to join in with a, "He can never come out because he's too tired."
"No trace of him in the shared spaces cause he's a clean freak."
"None of his food in the fridge cause he and his friends eat it all as soon as they buy it."
"No one sees him when we stay with you because he's away visiting family."
Bofur can feel his annoyance building as the guys continue to vent one suspicion after another. He knows it's weird that they haven't met Bilbo, but he's telling the truth. The mans just elusive, hard to hold down and too stubborn to make him meet the company when he wants to sleep. He travels the globe taking pictures of nature, and his beast of a travelling companion, Beorn, DOES eat all of the food before it can even sit in the fridge for a day. Sure, it's hard to believe but it's damn annoying to be doubted when he's telling the truth!
"Now listen here!" The suspicious chatter dies down as Bofur puffs up to his full height, "I ain't a liar and-"
"I'm home." It's silent as thirteen pairs of eyes swivel from Bofur to the slowly opening door. Standing there is a giant pile of bags. "Bofur," the voice, soft and sweet, comes from behind the bags, "a little help please."
It is only once Bofur scrambles away from his friends to take the bags and place them on the side of the door that the company gets their first look at the stranger. Significantly smaller than the rest of them, most likely no more than 5'3, and leagues softer with freckles across the bridge of his nose and messy blonde curls, the stranger seems to be just as shocked to see them as they are to see him.
"Oh dear…" The stranger fusses with his sweater before smiling at the staring group, "Nice to meet you, I'm Bilbo Baggins, Bofur's roommate."
Only when the silence he's met with drag on uncomfortably does the smile fall off of Bilbo's face as Bofur smirks at the group. "Told ye so."
