In a parallel universe it will always be you and I

Sav. mid-20s. She/her. Queer. Tracking #usersav(noh) Do NOT repost any of my work to another site.

[eddiediaz-buckley]

As of 04MAR2023, I have discovered I am shadowbanned and thus will not be active.

I might get another blog set up at some point, but that’s tbd. I miss all my friends on here and am sorry if it seems like I’ve been ignoring you - I do not have access to my direct message history. I have no idea what I did to be shadowbanned but as of today (02APR2023), tumblr has still not gotten back to me about restoring my account to full functionality. Hope to see you guys soon.

-Sav

[eddiediaz-buckley]

just realizing i’ve probably been shadowbanned for months and have only just now put the pieces together. have no idea what i did but now i gotta try and fix it. UGH

[ellevendraws]

Bobby: If I had a nickel, every time lightning strikes and endangers one of my crew making their partner scream their name, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.

[powerpolyculeshowdown]

QUARTERFINALS - 2

Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo)

The Doctor/Rose Tyler/Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

Voting ended onMar 4, 2023

[the-tree-line]

weather apps are like SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WARNING!! REMAIN INDOORS UNTIL actually it’s gonna drizzle lol sike. SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WARNING. it may not rain actually. 9 INCHES OF RAIN INCOMING. 10% chance of rain. THIS STORM WILL BLOW YOUR COCK STRAIGHT OFF

[djkoenig-deactivated20140905]

(◡‿◡✿)

(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”

[chronically-ill-dandy]

✿＼(｡-_-｡) “Kick his ass, baby.  I got yo flower.”

[kahguyaht]

i found it

the original post

i found it

[eviesrealitychangesdaily-deacti]

this should have the opportunity to be on everyone’s blog. 

[allons-ynumberten-deactivated20]

*tour guide voice*

and here on the left ladies and gentlemen, you see one of the posts before everyone went batshit crazy

[worldheritagepostorganization]

World Heritage Post

[peachdoxie]

Everyone here is dead.

[memesnotwelcome]

[icarusbuck]

[ID: 5 gifs of the core 118 members set to a quote from “Comfort Food” by Kate Jacobs, all using a basic white font.

Gif 1: Bobby being dragged away from his burning apartment while screaming for Marcy in episode 2x16 “Bobby Begins Again” paired with the text, “sometimes suffering”.

Gif 2: Chimney, holding back tears, walks with the other pallbearers at Kevin’s funeral in episode 2x12 “Chimney Begins” paired with the text, “is just suffering”.

Gif 3: Hen with tears streaming down her face (just after she hit the young musician’s car with the ambulance) in episode 3x08 “Malfunction” paired with the text, “it doesn’t make you stronger”.

Gif 4: Buck covered in sprinkler water and soot. just after the other members of the 118 have arrived to assist him in the factory fire from episode 4x05 “Buck Begins” paired with the text, “it doesn’t build character”.

Gif 5: Eddie rocks back and forth with a tear rolling down his cheek in episode 5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia” paired with the text, “it only hurts”.

/ID end]

[bellefoxs]

@lgbtqcreators creator challenge — layout

BUCK & EDDIE IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 4.14: survivors (4/4)

[hotshotsxyz]

these tangled threads

(buddie) (2.3k words) (6x11 spec) i've been back for five minutes and immediately decided i needed to write some spec fic so uh, here we are, have some coma!buck :)

Evan picks at a loose thread on his sleeve and stares at the screen in front of him. His latest in a long line of temp jobs has him feeling disquieted. Even more lost than usual, somehow. He wonders if it isn’t because he’s back in California.

It’s been years since he graced the west coast with his presence, and it’s hard to explain why he’s back now. 

It certainly isn’t for the work. Digitizing old files might be the worst job he’s ever had, and that includes the summer he spent digging drainage ditches in Florida. 

He’s felt restless, though, as of late, an itch beneath his skin that he can’t seem to scratch. Evan pulls at the thread again and a little more of his sleeve unravels. He lets the red string dangle and returns his attention to the file in front of him. 

June 22nd, 1985. 

Evan sighs quietly and flips the folder open. He arranges the sheets nestled inside by color. Red for fire, white for police, yellow for medical. He pulls the stack of red towards him and begins the process of painstakingly typing in each detail all over again. 

Twenty years of files and he hasn’t even made it through the first. 

…

He’s just begun working on the 26th when there’s a soft knock on the slightly ajar door to his closet-turned-office. A young woman pokes her head in and immediately wrinkles her nose. 

“Wow, I don’t think they could’ve found a darker room to put you in if they tried.”

“It’s uh– it’s… fine?” Evan ventures. 

The young woman snorts and pushes the door further open, allowing a small sliver of natural light to stain the carpet. 

“I’ll have to ask Eddie to find out for sure, but I’m pretty sure this is a fire code violation,” she says with a wry grin. 

Evan smiles, a little cautiously. “You’d know better than me,” he says, tapping the file in front of him, “my knowledge currently ends in 1985.”

The woman chuckles softly. “Anyway, a couple of us are going to grab lunch from the food truck across the street. You want to get out of this cave and come with?”

Evan bites his lip and glances at the stack of files to his left. 

“I’m May, by the way,” she says. 

“Evan,” he replies, but even as he says it, something about it feels wrong. Like the shape of his own name is unfamiliar to his tongue.

“Come on,” May says, backing out of the room but leaving the door wide open, “you’ll go crazy sitting in here all day.”

Evan stands before he’s consciously made the decision to do so. “You’re right,” he says. “Can’t stay here forever.”

…

The food truck reminds him a little of a postcard Maddie sent him a few years back, a generic one with no location and no return address. It’s funny, the way she’d flipped the script on him when she finally left Doug. 

He hasn’t gotten a new one in a few months, but who knows if the long string of forwarding addresses he’s kept is still intact. 

There’s a small group of blue and maroon polo-clad individuals huddled beneath a large beach umbrella nearby, and May leads him to them. 

“Hey guys! This is the new temp Sue mentioned yesterday, Evan,” she introduces him. 

Another wave of discomfort hits him and he frowns a little. He tries to wipe the expression off his face before anyone catches it, but at least one of them notices. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Evan,” May continues, “this is Linda, Josh and Eddie.” She points to each of them in turn. 

Linda and Josh both offer him a warm greeting, but Eddie simply nods. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a seemingly permanent furrowed brow, and Evan finds himself picking again at his frayed sleeve under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. 

Evan wants to look away, but finds that he can’t. 

The moment seems to stretch and pull into something more akin to molasses than time, slowly crystalizing into a shape that feels recognizable. Evan feels the urge to reach out, the inexplicable need to pull Eddie to safety. 

Eddie’s phone rings, and the moment shatters. 

“Excuse me,” he says, and Evan would swear he’s heard that voice before. 

…

By the time Eddie returns, Evan’s halfway through a taco and a story about his time as a ranch hand. The others seem interested enough, but Evan’s boring himself. He knows how the story ends – another place he couldn’t stay, another set of fraying loose ends. 

“Have we met before?” Eddie suddenly interrupts. 

Evan’s certain they haven’t, certain he would remember if they had, but there’s a nagging sensation in the back of his head that begs him to reconsider. “I’m not sure,” he says after a moment. 

“On a call, maybe?” Eddie presses. 

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I’ve never called 9-1-1,” he says. 

Eddie shakes his head impatiently. “I’m not a dispatcher,” he says. “I used to be a firefighter, though.”

An image flashes through Evan’s mind. It’s Eddie, but he looks younger. Or – maybe younger isn’t right. Less burdened. His posture is straight and he’s wearing turnouts and a warm smile. He has the look of someone who’s settled in his skin, someone who knows exactly who he is and isn’t afraid of that knowledge. He’s so incredibly familiar, but Evan knows they haven’t met. Not in this lifetime, anyway. 

He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, I don’t think so. I haven’t been in LA in years.” Evan feels like he’s lying, even as he knows he’s telling the truth. 

Eddie’s lips twist into a small frown, a painful expression Evan is suddenly desperate to wipe away. 

“Who was on the phone?” he blurts. 

The question works, and Eddie’s frown fades into something closer to a tired smile. “My son,” he says, “Christopher.”

“Whoa, you got a kid?” Evan’s voice seems to echo in his own ears. 

Christopher, he’s seven. 

And super adorable. 

“One that’s growing up way too fast,” Eddie says. His tone is light, but the guilt in his expression says everything he doesn’t. 

He doing okay?

Better than me. 

Evan turns his attention back to his frayed sleeve, and realizes it isn’t just one string, it’s two, tangled so tightly together he’s sure they’ll never unwind. 

…

“Buck,” someone says, and Evan’s head snaps up so fast it hurts.

There’s no one there. He’s alone in his dingy longstay motel room, picking at a plate of microwave lasagna that makes him wish desperately that he’d learned how to cook somewhere along the way. 

The room shouldn’t feel silent, not with the buzzing air conditioner and thin walls, but it does and it’s oppressive. Evan flips on the TV and hopes it’ll be enough. 

A red headed reporter fills the screen, and something like anxiety twists in his chest. He reaches for the remote but freezes when the image changes. 

“...three alarm blaze that displaced multiple families was extinguished early this morning by multiple teams of firefighters. Incident commander Robert Nash commented at the scene.”

“Our team performed admirably tonight. We just wish you were there with us.”

Evan’s brow furrows and he sits back, watching as the camera pans to two paramedics bandaging the arm of a young firefighter with dark skin and a pained expression.

…

In the morning, a postcard from Maddie arrives. 

Strangely, the image on the front is of a small, nondescript house with three pairs of shoes set neatly by the front door. 

Evan flips the card over to read the inscription. 

We miss you. Please come home.

There’s no postage, and no return address. 

Evan shivers and grabs his hoodie from the bed. It’s only when he pushes his knuckles through the end of his sleeve that he notices his two strings have turned to nine, all varying degrees of tangled, though none as long or as tightly woven as the first two he’d noticed. 

His head aches, and he wishes more than anything he could follow Maddie’s instructions. 

Home though… he doesn’t know where that is. 

…

Evan finds himself at the pier with no memory of how he got there. It looks familiar but wrong, dotted with rides and attractions he knows are long gone. He looks to his left and finds a young boy staring at him, no older than eight. 

“You ever think about what you want to do with your life? What you want to be when you grow up?” the boy asks him. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Evan replies. 

The boy ignores him and continues speaking. “I hope you do find something you love,” he says. 

“I did,” Evan replies instinctively. He hesitates. “Or I thought…”

The boy looks at him, and suddenly he’s older. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck. The doctors can fix you.”

Evan gasps and stumbles back. There’s a roaring in his ears. He turns just in time to see the wave that swallows him whole. 

…

What am I supposed to do if you– you promised, Buck. Chris needs you, and I–

…

Evan sputters and coughs until a river flows from his mouth. He’s standing in a bathroom, in front of a mirror, covered in blood. 

The strings from his tattered sleeve wrap around his fingers now, difficult but not impossible to distinguish from the horrible stains on his skin. 

The door behind him swings open, and a man walks in. 

Immediately, Evan is comforted, though he doesn’t know why. 

“Everyone’s out there,” the man says. “Waiting.”

“Why?” Evan asks. 

The man frowns. 

“I was just the guy standing there when it happened,” Evan continues. 

“I need you to open your eyes, kid,” the man says. 

Evan blinks– once, twice, and he’s back in his office. 

…

The door swings open. 

“None of us are better off, you know,” a woman with a shaved head says as she steps into the room. “I know you think it sometimes, but we’re not.”

“I don’t understand,” Evan says. 

“Bobby’s a wreck. And Eddie… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything. Reminded me of you, actually.”

“You know me?” Evan asks, feeling more and more desperate. The walls around him feel like they’re closing in. 

“Point is, we don’t work without you. So I’m going to need you to wake up and come be a firefighter again, okay?” The woman turns on her heel and leaves. 

“Wait!” Evan calls, but it’s too late. 

He blinks again and finds himself in the middle of a grocery store, clutching a box of cat laxative to his chest. 

…

“Buck?” A man asks, striding towards him. He’s wearing a firefighter’s uniform and has a scar in the middle of his forehead. “Man, what are you doing here,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a question. 

“I'm just here to– to do some... some shopping,” Evan replies. 

The man shakes his head. “This isn’t right,” he says. “It isn’t supposed to happen like this. You need to come home.”

“I want to,” Evan whispers. “I don’t know how.”

The box falls from his hands, tearing at the red strings that no longer seem to come from his sleeve but from his skin instead. 

“Maddie’ll be back soon,” the man says. “She stayed with Jee overnight, but she’s on her way now. I know you’re not going to wake up for me, but maybe you could wake up for her? She needs you.”

The man claps Evan on the shoulder and spins him around, and suddenly he’s face to face with the sister he hasn’t seen in years. 

…

“Maddie!” Evan cries, throwing himself towards her. She catches him in a tight hug. 

“I miss you, little brother,” she says sadly. 

“I’m right here,” Evan says. 

“What happened to you,” Maddie whispers. 

Evan shakes his head. Tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know, Maddie. I’m scared.”

…

He’s flatlining again! 

Ma’am, please step back and let us do our jobs. 

That’s my brother!

And we’re doing everything we can to save him. 

…

Evan gasps awake in his motel room, alone again. Or maybe– he was alone the entire time. Just dreaming. It always feels so real. 

The TV is still on, but now it’s the weather. A grim meteorologist addresses him. 

“High winds and rain are in the forecast tonight, but the real danger is the lightning. Shelter away from tall trees and poles, and whatever you do, don’t go climbing any ladders.”

Evan shudders. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He’s in danger. 

The door swings open, and Eddie walks in. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, and though it isn’t his first time hearing the name, it’s the first time he understands that it’s his. 

Buck stands. 

“You have to open your eyes,” Eddie says, “okay? You have to.”

“I’m looking right at you,” Buck says softly. 

Eddie shakes his head and the meaning is obvious. You’re looking right at me, but you still don’t see.

“The doctor’s,” Eddie says shakily, “they say you might never wake up. But I don’t believe that, Buck. I know you. I know you better than they do and I know you’re not going to give up on us like that.”

Buck reaches out on instinct and lays his string wrapped hand over Eddie’s heart. 

In an instant, it all comes rushing back to him. 

“You have to wake up,” Eddie says. 

“I’m trying,” Buck gasps. 

“You have to, because I can’t do any of this without you, Buck. I don’t want to.”

Buck remembers the moment lightning struck him. He remembers the moment before the pain, remembers feeling, just for a moment, like he might be immortal. He remembers Eddie crying out his name. 

Eddie’s hands encircle his, and the red string tangles them together. 

“Please, Buck,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “Come home.”

With a herculean effort, Buck squeezes back.

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

Happiness Will Come To You.

[12goblins]

when tho

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

When You Least Expect It. Probably Late March

[wizardshark]

reblog for happiness to come for you in late march!

[zigxortega]

[zac--efren]

I reblogged this last year and I hung out with blink-182 backstage on March 30. Reblogging again because it worked the first time.

[scientiablr]

honestly, last year one of the best days of my life happened in late March

[i-say-ok]

ok!

[reputayswift]

Is there a word for that like, “bright darkness” you get in winter?? When it’s been snowing or it’s supposed to snow past sunset and the sky isn’t Dark Enough. One of my favorite things

[reputayswift]

Thanks to @raindropwindow and a handful of articles, it’s called snow albedo, skyglow, snowglow, or just light scattering! It’s the result of moon- or artificial light reflecting off ground snow, low clouds, or ice crystals.

[ailurinae]

that nsfw snow…

[thealogie]

house would be so good at memes

[thealogie]

house would verbatim say “uh oh gang I don’t think we can gaslight gatekeep girlboss our way out of this one”

[thealogie]

House would dab just once (and sarcastically) after diagnosing a gen z influencer

[thealogie]

same episode with the gen z influencer the B plot is that house steals Wilson’s phone and unmatches all his tinder matches and then when Wilson hands on hips huffs at him about this House tells him he’s failing vibe check

[kiragecko]

I'm not American, but grew up in a country that is REALLY used to centering American opinions. I'd love to see how many people here are actually American, and how many are just accepting of a lot of American content.

Boundaries are fake, so most places show up at least twice. Choose the grouping that you connect with more.

Just How American is Tumblr?

Yeah I'm from/long term resident of the US

I'm from Mexico/Caribbean/Central America

I'm from Central/South America

I'm from Australia/New Zealand/Canada/Polynesia

I'm from East/South-East Asia/Polynesia

I'm from South/Central/South-East Asian

I'm from Russia/Central Asia/E. Europe

I'm from Europe/South Africa

I'm from the Middle East/North Africa

I'm from Africa

Voting ended onMar 8, 2023

[hellboundhorrormovielover]

absolutely fucking reeling from puss in boots the last wish. my grown ass friends made me see it and it absolutely fucked. it was mad max fury road for kids. it was a horror movie about the fear of death. it was a western about an ageing outlaw trying to regain his youth with the help of his ex fiance and homeless harvey guillen. it was about found family. it was about needing people and asking for help. it had the best depiction of a panic attack i've ever seen in a mainstream film. the villain looked exactly like boris johnson. there was a wicker man reference. it had a kill count higher than most slasher films. it set up shrek 5. they even said fuck.

[notcaycepollard]

[bellefoxs]

BUCK & EDDIE IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 4.14: survivors (2/4)

[ultraforgottenwords]

what if eddie gives bucks his st.christopher medal while he's in a coma

what if eddie gives buck his st.christopher medal while he's in a coma

WHAT IF EDDIE GIVES BUCK HIS ST.CHRISTOPHER MEDAL WHILE HE'S IN A COMA

[eddiediaz-buckley]

christopher as a jacob marley type character guiding buck through his coma dream and showing him how much he has positively affected the lives of everyone around him