im being very productive
the gathering
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Yemen
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seen from Serbia
seen from Ecuador
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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im being very productive
the gathering
WIP Thwursensday!
I don’t know what day it is and we livelaughSpaceBat 25 hours 8 days a week! Thank you @kuurankaiho for the tag! I tag along (no pressure): @veeskei, @morallygrayautisticscientist, @obsidian-teeth, @luna-tiel, @cirusthecitrus, @yourfellowhuman07 and anyone else who needs an excuse to share some work! (SHARESHARESHARE I DARE YOUUU)
Something NSFW below the cut :3
🛡️🛡️for the WIP ask game please
“No, I’m asking you to see it from their perspective and really ask whether you’d feel safe in Beacon Hills after everything that’s happened. They’ve spent their entire lives only able to rely on each other and now all of a sudden you’re expecting them to put their faith in a pack that doesn’t trust them. They can understand why the people they were supposed to threaten and kill only a few months ago don’t trust them right away, but still, do you think it makes them comfortable to know that more than one pack member is ready to strangle them at the first sign of trouble?”
💰🛡️pretty please!
From the Scett WIP:
Brett hesitated for a moment before cautiously sitting down as lightly as possible, looking ready to bolt up at a moment’s notice. “I really don’t know. I can’t exactly offer to throw lacrosse games for you, since no offense but Beacon Hills sucks way too much for me not trying to actually matter, and…I don’t have anything else to offer. A high record on the bench press doesn’t do much good to an Alpha, does it?” he joked, forcing out a laugh as his fingers clenched on his knees.
From the Lydia Week WIP:
“What did he say?” she turned to Derek, whose ears and nose were perked. “That if we need extra motivation to threaten them with wolfsbane sticks in their butts?” Derek turned back to Lydia, eyebrows knit together in confusion, “is that a code for something or does he mean that literally?”
🏁 🏁 🏁
Game rules if you need them are here
more transfer!eddie!!! if you please???
happily!!! dot my beloved this one is scratching a very specific itch because weaving in this particular canon detail was so important To Me and it genuinely felt like solving a little puzzle rahhhhh I love torturing them
The nurse tells him she's made it through surgery and points him down the hall to the left, and Buck's legs are moving on their own accord.
Both of them are still there to do so, which is more than he can say for her, and Buck has long since come to understand just how lucky he got that that was how his story ended. Still, part of him has always wondered where he would've been now had that not been the case.
What would've had to happen for him to have lost his leg, lying there on the asphalt in the middle of an intersection?
He doesn't remember much from that night. Just the warmth of the ground against the coldness creeping up his leg, Bobby's voice somewhere above him and then the hopital ceiling.
He remembers the helplessness, though. The hopelessness. How useless he felt, lying there not knowing if he was going to lose one of the few things that had carried him through life and across state lines when he had nothing else to rely on.
If Eddie had been there that night, would he have suggested the same? Would he have offered to just cut it off because he'd seen it in Afghanistan?
Buck wants to believe he wouldn't have.
He just wishes someone had held his hand.
The shake of his head and the rounding of the corner into the little waiting room of this wing of the hospital, and they don't see him, is the thing, sitting on the bench near the far wall on the other side of the room, but Buck's legs stop.
His entire body sorts of just stops right there, just out of sight, because Cal isn't alone, sitting outside his wife's room.
And there's that uselessness again, if only a different kind entirely, seeing Eddie sitting there beside him.
Help me write
In my eyes banner!!!