badskippy
badskippy
THE NAME SAYS IT ALL .....
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@beetle-stans … but also too, several saw him run after the dwarves, so maybe they all sat around for a year debating which ONE of them he married?! Maybe they were like, ‘I can this one or that one … but which of them was the flower girl?!’
How DARE Tolkien omit in the final draft the information that the traditional hobbit marriage custom is to have unspoken vibes for years and then disappear without explanation for an indeterminate length of time!?
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I live that the comments have been turned off - which indicates that the poster doesn’t want to hear anything that is contradictory to this statement.
I have to respectfully disagree. While, yes, I absolutely agree that not all are lazy, I have worked with people who do not like their jobs, verbalize it continuously to anyone that will listen, but won’t leave the job because what they want to do, won’t pay them the same.
Case in point, I worked with two people in a medical facility, one wanted to work and one did not. The first struggled to get organized and to remember processes and so forth - she had 5 children and little to no help at home. The other would pass off her job to others, nap in her office, file her nails, do everything to the bare minimum, and tell anyone and everyone she didn’t care about patients and their issues, and often mocking them. Guess which one was let go, and which one was kept on? The poor girl with 5 kids had to seek other means of work, while the truly lazy one was kept on until she left at her leisure, because she liked her pay.
Laziness does exist - they just call it apathy to make it sound more PC.
this was a great read. “Laziness Does Not Exist” by Devon Price
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It just dawn on me … the three main kings from The Hobbit, have now come out as gay … Like Evans (Bard), Lee Pace (Thranduil), and Richard Armitage (Thorin).
Life really can imitate (Slashy) Art.
#bagginshield#thilbo#richard armitage#badskippy#the hobbit#thorin/bilbo#bilbo/thorin#thorin oakenshield#lotr#bilbo baggins#bagginshield thilbo#lgbt#bard/Thranduil
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Not surprised AT ALL … but boy does this make BAGGINSHIELD just that bit more tasty !!
#bagginshield#thilbo#richard armitage#badskippy#the hobbit#thorin/bilbo#bilbo/thorin#thorin oakenshield#lotr#harry potter#bilbo baggins#bagginshield thilbo#lgbt#thorin
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The seed of concept to countless Bagginshield fics
#hobbitedit#richard armitage#aidan turner#graham mctavish#newgifs#*hobbitbts#reeshard stop it#bagginshield#thilbo#badskippy
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See, now it’s projects like this that make me wish I could knit!
#wip#art#fiber art#yarn#crochet#crocheters of tumblr#small business#artists on tumblr#sun and moon#sun and stars
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Thorin was like, ‘What a keen set of eyes you have, Master Baggins’ … all the while, following Bilbo, thinking, ‘But I have the much nicer view!’ As he eyes Bilbo’s ‘ASS-set’
#look who's leading and who's following#also maybe it's a good idea to have bilbo in the front so they don't lose him for once#the hobbit#hobbit#the desolation of smaug#tdos#bilbo#bilbo baggins#thorin#thorin oakenshield
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Sorry, not sorry - I am with Bilbo! I’d gladly wake Thorin up that way!!
an entire comic strip about Bilbo being a nightmare partner! 😇
part ½
click to view!
#bagginshield#it must be stressful dating bilbo#thilbo#badskippy#the hobbit#thorin/bilbo#bilbo/thorin#thorin oakenshield#lotr
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Subtext: It’s horrible and filthy and repulsive. Nothing like living underground as Hobbits do … and Dwarves.
#bilbo checking in with thorin before going#the hobbit#hobbit#the desolation of smaug#tdos#bilbo#bilbo baggins#thorin#thorin oakenshield#bilbo/thorin
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Thorin’s like, ‘I need to keep my eye on my precious gem. Least some … barge man, tries to take him.’
#jealous thorin coming through#the hobbit#hobbit#the desolation of smaug#tdos#bilbo#bilbo baggins#thorin#thorin oakenshield#bilbo/thorin
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This is what you get when reality hits a ‘oblivious idiot’ trope
Thorin: I don’t know how to tell you this, but… I love you.
Bilbo: That’s great, ‘rin. Especially considering the fact we’ve been married for 6 fucking years.
#incorrect quotes#incorrect lotr quotes#incorrect the hobbit quotes#lotr#lord of the rings#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#thilbo#bagginshield
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No - Thorin is looking at Bilbo, who is standing within eyesight - the key is just between them.
I wish everyone to find a person who will look at you the same way Thorin looks at the key to the lonely mountain. Happy Valentine's Day!💖
#thorin oakenshield#the hobbit thorin#thorin fanart#the hobbit#the hobbit fanart#darthvell#tolkien#bagginshield#thilbo#my art
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Welcome to the United Soviet States or America
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Whoever they are - they are totally cool!
Golden tortoise beetle transforming from gold to red
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What a dream!
🐬 Page: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
🌊 Visit my Patreon for more comics and illustrations! 🌊
#timezone reblog#tbd#like a wave comic#bagginshield#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#thilbo#richard armitage#the hobbit
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@laurasimonsdaughter … so beautiful and lovely. Now I want to write about the Gods of old
“Why a temple? Why now?”
She is only a voice, barely a presence, but her notice shakes the mortal beneath her. The reply comes slowly, fearfully:
“Because you are needed. By me. By so many others.”
A goddess can smile even in the silent, sightless nothing. “I have learned to love the little altars, the songs, the stories. But you no longer celebrate your harvests. There is no need for a temple to beg my presence.”
“I am not here for the harvest,” the exhausted mortal speaks. Her voice is painfully familiar, like every human voice, but more so.
“Then why are you here? Why am I here?”
“Because I cannot find my child.”
The goddess opens her eyes. The mortal before her is shaking in her worn down shoes.
“Because you lost your daughter once. Because you did everything to get her back.”
Her gaze is endless, and the silence gaping. But when she replies there is less of divinity and more of hesitance in her voice.
“There are many versions of that story.”
The parent’s eyes are bloodshot, wide awake and stubborn. “But you find her in every single one.”
The goddess lifts her head and looks around. It is a poor excuse for a temple. There are no columns, no statues, no sheaf of wheat, no offerings. Just empty chairs, and coffee cups, marker stained maps, and missing posters lining the walls.
And in the midst of it all, a woman who looks almost too familiar.
A plastic clock ticks to one past one, and the goddess Demeter seats herself under the roof of her new temple, a ripple of blind perseverance and unflinching hope rushing into the night.
#demeter#greek gods#greek myth#urban fantasy#my job also has to do with missing persons and you know what i believe we deserve some divine intervention#laura drabbles#demeter grieving guarding parent my beloved
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@neeka-noodle … what have you done to me with your reposting?!? Now I CANT not see this! And I don’t want to not NOT SEE THIS! And here I’ve been, holding out for a Steve/Will thing.
Damn you and your Tumblr bombs!!
hey, quick question but what if Eddie hadn’t just said “make him pay” at the end? what if he’d actually done it, screwed up his face and his single scrap of courage and kissed Steve hard, one desperate press of lips before he stepped back out of Steve’s space? Only…
Only Steve’s not gay. He’s not. Not that there’s anything wrong with it if Eddie is, but he isn’t. Steve likes girls, is kind of hung up on one girl in particular, actually, and she’s standing right behind him watching this go down, and oh, God is this awkward now.
He squares his shoulders, gives Eddie a nod that he hopes conveys something like “sorry” and “it’s okay” and “I’m not gonna punch you when this is over, man, I’m really not,” but Eddie’s eyes cut away and he clears his throat and then Nancy’s saying, “Steve? Steve, we need to go.”
So Steve goes.
Steve goes, trudges through the woods with Nancy radiating uncomfortable energy all down his side, and Steve’s got a pit in his stomach and a scorch mark on his mouth where Eddie’s lips left a fucking brand, the kiss repeating on a loop in his mind. He starts thinking about how he’s probably about to die, how he’s gonna die feeling all upside down in the Upside Down and it’s a really stupid joke but it gets him mulling over the fucked up weird life he has now versus the one he always kinda thought he wanted. He tells Nancy about it: the crawling backwards, the thump on the head, how she’s always his co-captain in his Winnebago dreams.
She looks at him with soft, sad eyes — God, her eyes are always so sad, have been ever since the day Barb disappeared — and she rests a delicate hand on his forearm and asks, “Do you think… do you think maybe it’s always me in your dream because I’m the only person your mind thinks it’s allowed to put there?”
“What do you mean?”
“Steve.” Her eyes aren’t so soft now. They’re shining with that hard glint they get when she’s lost patience with Steve’s bullshit. It’s a look Steve knows well, and his hand comes up to touch his lips.
“But I- I’m not…”
“Just go,” she says, her jaw set, all that unbreakable resolve on display. “Robin and I can handle this. Go.”
Robin turns back to look at him over her shoulder, gives him an encouraging nod, and Steve takes off running, sprinting through the trees, following the sound of screeching bats.
When he bursts through the treeline, panting and sweating and clutching at his torn-up sides, Eddie’s in the middle of a maelstrom, his makeshift shield held in a shaking grip as an army of bats encircle him.
“Eddie!” Steve shouts, lungs burning as he begs his feet to move faster, to run fucking run because one of the bats dives at Eddie’s head and another takes a bite out of his leather sleeve; a third one whips a tail around Eddie’s ankle and then Eddie’s going down, pulled to the cracked, filthy earth by gnashing teeth and bloodied claws, and they’re eating him, getting at all those squishy vital bites around his middle when Steve finally hacks his way through the horde to get to Eddie’s side. Armed with an ax and Eddie’s spear, Steve strikes and slashes blindly at the wall of shrieking monsters as they start circling tighter, caging them in, and he’s dead they’re both dead they’re so fucking screwed—
The bats drop. All at once and with no reason Steve can discern, their screams fall silent and their bodies squelch all around them as they slap the hard ground like dead fish on a dock.
Steve drops to his knees beside Eddie, and Jesus Christ, there’s- there’s so much blood oh God oh fuck.
“Bad, huh?” Eddie asks, and how is he still smirking when there’s blood spilling out of his mouth? When there’s a chunk missing out of his jaw?
“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,” Steve mumbles frantically, not sure if he’s praying or panicking or both. He gets his shirt off, rips at the remaining scraps of Eddie’s, too; starts using them to make bandages. “Shit, Eddie, just- just hold on, okay? Stay with me.”
He wriggles a scrap of fabric under Eddie’s brutalized torso, and Eddie screams when Steve pulls it tight around his sides, ties it off and presses down, trying to slow the bleeding. There’s so much fucking blood. His knees slip in it as he ties a tourniquet just above Eddie’s elbow, hoping it’ll save Eddie’s mangled arm, and he bunches the last of the fabric up and presses it to the shredded edges of the wound on Eddie’s face.
Eddie smiles up at him with tears in his eyes, with blood on his lips. “Pretty- pretty grand gesture for a guy you don’t want to kiss.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, and he’s crying, too. “I don’t- I just…”
“Steve,” Eddie chokes, his breath whistling out with a sickening wheeze, and Steve doesn’t know how the fuck he’s going to get him through the gate and back to safety without making him bleed out. “Steve, it’s… s’okay. M’sorry I kissed you, man.” His eyes are glazing over, and no, please, please, don’t—
Eddie looks up at him, brow furrowed, like it’s taking a lot of effort. His eyes are still so pretty, even now, as Steve hovers helplessly and watches the light slowly leave them. “Actually, I- I guess m’not,” Eddie slurs. “Had to do it at least once b-before I- before I—”
“EDDIE!!!!” a furious, cracking voice echoes through the empty park. Eddie’s trailer door bangs open, falling off its hinges, and a limping Dustin Henderson comes storming across the lot.
“Dustin!!” Steve hollers back, relief flooding his veins like maple syrup straight from the tap, and incredibly (hysterically, he’s probably in shock), he’s laughing when he looks back down at Eddie. Eddie, who’s half dead in his lap, whose blood is all over Steve’s pants. Who Steve might be able to save now.
He shakes Eddie’s shoulders and says, “You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here, man,” his voice all high-pitched and full of phlegm and trapped somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and Eddie’s eyes go wide at the promise in Steve’s words.
“Dustin!” Steve yells again, pleading, “Dustin, come on, come help me move him!”
It’s slow going, but they get Eddie through the gate, get him taped up so he’s more bandage than boy by the time the ambulance arrives. A medic claps Steve on the shoulder and says ‘You did good, kid,’ and Steve cries at that and then spends an annoying amount of time crying over the next few days, curled up in a rickety chair at Eddie’s bedside in the hospital.
More tears when Eddie finally wakes up. Happy ones this time, and there’s a parade of people coming in to hug Eddie and give him flowers and even Hopper gives him a grudging hair ruffle and an attaboy, and then Steve’s driving Eddie home in the Beemer; gets all the way to the driveway before Eddie brings it up.
“Did you mean it?” he asks, his voice timid and barely audible over the hum of the car.
Steve cuts the engine. “Hmm?”
“Did you, um- the thing, that you…” Eddie spins a ring around on his finger, lets out a frustrated huff. “I mean, I didn’t die, right? I made it out of there, so…?”
You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here.
Steve’s ears burn at the memory, his mouth going dry, and he must take too long to answer because Eddie starts trying to backpedal. “Sorry. Sorry, you said you’re not— I just thought, maybe— shit, uh, f-forget I said-”
“No! No, um.” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Turns out I kind of am. Or, like. Well, I mean, Robin said liking both is its own thing, it’s not a mix of the two, but…”
“…But both?” Eddie finishes, and his eyes are sparkling.
“Yeah. Both,” Steve shrugs. It’s getting easier to say. “…Mostly just you, though.”
“Oh, just mostly, huh?” Eddie teases, unbuckling his seatbelt so he can lean into Steve’s space.
Steve’s face feels too warm. His neck is probably all splotchy. “Whatever. Are you gonna shut up and kiss me already or what?”
“Uh huh,” Eddie grins and runs his tongue over his teeth. “Many times as I want, right?” He brushes Steve’s hair behind his ear, his calloused fingers so gentle against Steve’s jaw as he lines their faces up.
“How many times is that?” Steve whispers.
“Mm….” Eddie’s mouth brushes against his. “Start counting and let’s find out.”
#😭😭#i just want h8m happy and alive 😭😭😭😭😭#steddie#stranger things#‘hey quick question’ she says and then writes 1400#lmao whoops#steddie fic#steddie drabble#my writing#steve harrington
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