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season 4 u say

#i go to sleep and new interviews drop

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i do know how it is, oliver. just full-on crying in the shower because of buddie. been there, done that.

#oh my god oliver #he has been let LOOSE #and he's going to be the death of me #in the best way

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i’ve got you

#yes hello i am vibrating about all of this right along with you all

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there is no unlived life or alternative reality where everything went right…. there is only here and now what are you going to do with it

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you boop me, I boop my dog :) them’s the rules

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re-reading my own fic because the author has exactly my taste in tropes, ships the same ships in the right way, and also shares my sense of humour. what a find, what a revelation. i hope they write more of this sort of thing.

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So I was writing a small paper in Microsoft Word and the program suddenly crashed (I saved a couple minutes before, thank god) and I get this message in the corner of my screen two seconds afterward

what the fuck

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karen wilson in every episode ↳ 2.18 — this life we chose

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Tree Pots

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Night ✨Gown

Just want to paint all the translucent things~

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Have you ever asked yourself: “What does the skunk say?” unmute to find out

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My first 9-1-1 fic in over a year! Thank you, season 7. @badthingshappenbingo square: Bloodied Knuckles Read it here or on AO3. More of my BTHB fics here.

"What happened?"

Tommy shakes his head, but doesn't stop Buck from taking his hand. "Turbulence." He moves his other hand up and out, replaying whatever hit his knuckles took to the inside of the cockpit in the storm.

"Shit," Buck murmurs, assessing the damage. There's dried blood in the torn-up skin, like Tommy had washed his hands when he got back on land but all it had done was re-open the wounds.

"Evan." A pause when he doesn't look up, then two fingers under his chin to get him to meet his eyes. (A shivering thrill and a quick pull of breath; always; every time.) "I'm okay."

"If it gets infected you could lose your hand," Buck counters, already leading him over to the kitchen sink.

"That is called spiraling." Tommy lets himself be led; lets Buck turn on the water and lean against the counter to supervise.

"Yeah, I'm good at that."

Tommy hisses quietly when the soap hits the open wound. Buck leans in and kisses his shoulder, and Tommy hums and carefully scrubs until the soap is gone and the dried blood with it, and his knuckles are raw and pink but not bleeding anymore.

Buck's already holding a clean dishtowel, right out of the drawer, and he catches Tommy's hands and gently pats them dry, inspecting them like his eyes might be able to spot any remaining germs.

"Okay," he says, finally satisfied. He motions for Tommy to sit down on a bar stool and goes to get the first aid kit. Carefully wraps the gauze around his hand and tapes it into place. "There. Anywhere else?"

Tommy's other hand meets Buck's waist and draws him in, steady between his knees. "I don't think so. Unless you'd like to check."

Forehead to forehead. Buck breathes him in; closes his eyes. Feels Tommy all around him, steady and strong. "Might be a good idea," he says, and manages not to trip completely over the words.

"Can never be too careful," Tommy agrees, and then Tommy's lips are on his, like that first night but familiar, now. The brush of gauze against his cheek when Tommy brings up his fingers to trace his jaw. "Dinner first?"

An exhale of a laugh; heart beat ticking up; a smile he can't contain. He nods against Tommy and kisses him again. Yeah. "Dinner first."

#one more #reblog for the later crowd

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The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

🎬 Peter Jackson

+ IMDb trivia

#always reblog lotr facts #lotr #behind the scenes

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A different sort of WIP: The song I'm writing for @buckupbuttercup's Buddie Bakery AU! I was hoping the SoundCloud player would embed, but it doesn't look that will work, so click through above // listen here.

you, you shine like summer and i thought the world was bright before i thought that i had all that i could need

but you somehow were brighter than everything that came before: this sudden burst of light beyond my wildest dreams

[chorus] take me star gazing tell me how the constellations got their names— stay

up all night 'til the supernova sun rises up over the mountains, drives the dark away.

in spring the flowers bloomed and grew but nothing ever burned like you 'til summer brought you straight into my arms

[like] wildfire and ocean waves sometimes i thought that i'd escaped anything that ever could make me feel this warm

[chorus]

i walked lonesome 'cross this country 'til my feet hit west coast waters, thought i'd never find a home

built one out of ruins and looked up to find you'd been walking out to meet me all along.

[chorus]

there's honey in your smile and it's been stealing my breath to hear my name upon your tongue just like a kiss

and maybe it's too forward, but darling, all i want is just your sweetness on my lips

but it's not just you, it's all this light that's in your orbit shooting stars and galaxies trace patterns through my mind

when i look at you, and all your love, it leaves me awestruck and somehow, it seems like i might get to call you mine.

[chorus] and you take me stargazing and you tell me how the constellations got their names—

and we stay up all night 'til the supernova sunrise comes up over the mountains drive the dark away.

#this was on my mind today so here you go #someday i'll get a final take but this give you the idea

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My first 9-1-1 fic in over a year! Thank you, season 7. @badthingshappenbingo square: Bloodied Knuckles Read it here or on AO3. More of my BTHB fics here.

"What happened?"

Tommy shakes his head, but doesn't stop Buck from taking his hand. "Turbulence." He moves his other hand up and out, replaying whatever hit his knuckles took to the inside of the cockpit in the storm.

"Shit," Buck murmurs, assessing the damage. There's dried blood in the torn-up skin, like Tommy had washed his hands when he got back on land but all it had done was re-open the wounds.

"Evan." A pause when he doesn't look up, then two fingers under his chin to get him to meet his eyes. (A shivering thrill and a quick pull of breath; always; every time.) "I'm okay."

"If it gets infected you could lose your hand," Buck counters, already leading him over to the kitchen sink.

"That is called spiraling." Tommy lets himself be led; lets Buck turn on the water and lean against the counter to supervise.

"Yeah, I'm good at that."

Tommy hisses quietly when the soap hits the open wound. Buck leans in and kisses his shoulder, and Tommy hums and carefully scrubs until the soap is gone and the dried blood with it, and his knuckles are raw and pink but not bleeding anymore.

Buck's already holding a clean dishtowel, right out of the drawer, and he catches Tommy's hands and gently pats them dry, inspecting them like his eyes might be able to spot any remaining germs.

"Okay," he says, finally satisfied. He motions for Tommy to sit down on a bar stool and goes to get the first aid kit. Carefully wraps the gauze around his hand and tapes it into place. "There. Anywhere else?"

Tommy's other hand meets Buck's waist and draws him in, steady between his knees. "I don't think so. Unless you'd like to check."

Forehead to forehead. Buck breathes him in; closes his eyes. Feels Tommy all around him, steady and strong. "Might be a good idea," he says, and manages not to trip completely over the words.

"Can never be too careful," Tommy agrees, and then Tommy's lips are on his, like that first night but familiar, now. The brush of gauze against his cheek when Tommy brings up his fingers to trace his jaw. "Dinner first?"

An exhale of a laugh; heart beat ticking up; a smile he can't contain. He nods against Tommy and kisses him again. Yeah. "Dinner first."

#reblog for the later crowd

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Lesser Yellowlegs

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it's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just click. you know what i mean?