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Each building will be what our age calls a megastructure, containing apartments, industrial workshops, communal eating and recreational facilities (Chernyshevsky describes the ballrooms, and the festivals to be held there, in elaborate loving detail), and enhanced by aluminum furniture, sliding walls (to facilitate household rearrangements), and an early form of air conditioning. Each megastructure will contain a community of several thousand people satisfying all their material needs through a collectivized, technologically advanced agriculture and industry, and satisfied sexually and emotionally through the social policies of a benign, sophisticated, and rational administration. The 'new Russia,' as Chernyshevsky calls it, will be utterly devoid of tension, personal or political; even the dream of trouble is absent from this new world.... Thus the Crystal Palace is conceived as the antithesis of the city. Chernyshevsky's dream, we can see now, is a dream of modernization without urbanism. The new antithesis to the city is no longer the primitive countryside, but a highly developed, super-technological, self-contained exurban world, comprehensively planned and organized—because created ex nihilo on virgin soil—more thoroughly controlled and administered, and hence 'more pleasant and advantageous' than any modern metropolis could be.

Marshall Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air

Christmas Day Bagginshield prompt ficlet

So diemarysues​ prompted: from a list of prompts: Wrestling match on the couch that ends with one of them hitting their heads on the floor and the other has to kiss the booboo better.

And I decided this was the perfect opportunity for a sequel chapter to my Christmas Modern Bagginshield ficlet “Out by Eight” :3 However, this ficlet can stand alone as well, as long as you can roll with the idea that it takes place after a modernized Corporate AU version of The Hobbit where everyone lived. I’ll be posting this on AO3 sometime tomorrow perhaps after some editing, and may toss a different ending on (or just lengthen it a bit, since I’m braindead right now), but I hope you all enjoy!

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If Bilbo were to be honest with himself, this was not how he expected his first day of dating Thorin Thrainsson—  CEO of Erebor Industries, public figure, and all around majestic son of a bitch— to go.

But the simple fact was, it was Christmas Day. Every store was closed, any restaurant they might have thought to go to was booked months before, and all of their various and sundries relatives were spending the morning at home with their own children and significant others, in particular the Shire clan of Tooks, Brandybucks, and Baggins, which all bred like rabbits. Neither Bilbo or Thorin had dared hope, much less make plans, for such an occasion as spending Christmas together by buying gifts for one another. So when they woke up in bed together that morning, in a tangle of bare limbs and mussed hair, and after some softly exchange morning kisses complete with a great deal of sleepy murmurs and wandering hands both of their eyes had widened with matching looks of childlike wonder at the realization:

Neither of them had anywhere else to be that day.