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chris has been dragged along bc he's grounded and he made some sarky comment about how it's not like eddie knows how to ban him from talking to his friends online because his dad is a DINOSAUR. and eddie's like you know what? you're right, I don't know how to do that, and that's why you're coming with me. and they have some classic father/teenage son conflict while eddie grapples with how quickly chris is growing up and feels wistful for when chris was jee's age. the minor emergencies have repeated themes of eras ending and letting go of the past. chris gets to reflect on how traumatic his childhood was and the 118 rescue someone from the model elephants. when they get jee safely back to her dad chris asks eddie if he thinks he'll ever have more kids as hanging out with jee was kinda fun, and eddie admits he's never really thought about it but maybe if he found the right person while the camera pans to buck. radioactive by imagine dragons plays at least once. my god it writes itself

just thinking once again about everything that made the tsunami arc so compelling. 1. buck alone and off duty having to improvise while caught up in the emergency. (similarly may thrown into new role of suddenly having to help as well.) 2. person in need of saving/protection that buck and the audience are already very invested in. 3. the dramatic irony of the audience knowing buck and chris are in danger whilst the rest of the characters are none the wiser, and the tension of wondering when/how they'll find out. 4. and finally just some really solid minor emergencies as a result of the Big emergency, giving everyone time to shine. TOP TIER SHIT. the show's been chasing that high ever since without coming close.

this is why we need last minute babysitter eddie taking chris and jee to the la brea tar pits right before a heretofore unknown volcano emerges and erupts

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just thinking once again about everything that made the tsunami arc so compelling. 1. buck alone and off duty having to improvise while caught up in the emergency. (similarly may thrown into new role of suddenly having to help as well.) 2. person in need of saving/protection that buck and the audience are already very invested in. 3. the dramatic irony of the audience knowing buck and chris are in danger whilst the rest of the characters are none the wiser, and the tension of wondering when/how they'll find out. 4. and finally just some really solid minor emergencies as a result of the Big emergency, giving everyone time to shine. TOP TIER SHIT. the show's been chasing that high ever since without coming close.

this is why we need last minute babysitter eddie taking chris and jee to the la brea tar pits right before a heretofore unknown volcano emerges and erupts

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ahh 2, 18, and/or 43 if any inspire you! ❣️

tysm cait 🫶🏻 43. falling asleep with their head in your lap

—

They’re off-line for an hour, deep into a forty-eight and cooling off from a pile-up that had Eddie scrubbing the smell of burning rubber from his skin just twenty minutes ago. The station’s near-silent now, in the middle of the night— he could probably sleep if he wanted to, but.

Sleep’s out of the question.

Instead: he’s slowly sinking further into the once-plush, now-worn out cushions of the couch up in the loft, leg beginning to cramp just a little bit, staring ahead at the turned-off tv and trying so, so hard not to move his hands, staying still, still as a statue so as not to disturb—

Then there’s the sound of a coiled spring squeaking in protest to his side, and Eddie whips his head around in time to watch Hen plop herself into the armchair, legs slung over the armrest and head thrown back dramatically. “We need new furniture up here,” she groans. The springs creak with every shift, and Eddie considers telling her to please stop moving, but cuts himself off before the words spill out.

Thankfully. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh.” Hen’s staring at him now, eyes trained around his midsection, flitting up to look Eddie right in the eyes, one brow raised, and back down again.

“How’s Chim?” Eddie asks before Hen can say anything else.

She regards him, curiously. “He’s fine,” she says, drawing out the word like it’s a question, “pretty sure he fell asleep before he was even lying down, but he’s fine.”

“Does not surprise me.”

“You’re not sleeping, though,” Hen says. An accusation, almost, that says what the hell is happening here, except she’d need to ask Buck: it was Buck who sat down next to Eddie and, with only a you mind if I just—, turned to his side to lie down with his head pillowed on Eddie’s thigh and proceeded to tilt Eddie’s world on its axis; it was Buck who managed to pencil in one whole answer to a crossword clue before the little book of puzzles dropped, inelegantly, to his chest, his tired eyes drooping closed.

“No, I’m not,” Eddie tells Hen, spiking his tongue with a little extra snark. If only just to distract himself from everything else, from how he feels like he hasn’t moved a muscle in ten minutes, from how plainly it must be written on his face that he wants to shift, just a little, and watch as Buck sleeps with his head turned inwards, nose nearly brushing the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. His ear is digging into Eddie’s thigh.

Because— of course Eddie wants to. He wants to look, wants to comb through Buck’s damp hair with his fingers and feel the frisson of Buck purring like a cat against his leg, wants to lay his hand on Buck’s chest, feel the even rise and fall of his breathing, the solid muscle, the softness of his stomach, the shape of his ribs.

Maybe, if Hen weren’t boring a hole into his side, he would reach for some of it, let his hand hover over where Buck’s heart is beating. Press against his birthmark with this thumb, watch as Buck’s eyes open, bleary and bright, bright blue.

It must be obvious. He’s too tired to hide anything.

Buck shifts in a way that makes Eddie freeze and the crossword book threaten to slide to the side from where it lays abandoned on his chest, so Eddie reaches to catch it before it falls to the ground. It’s half filled-in already from past downtimes, because whenever it’s not his phone in Buck’s hands it’s this, right here in the loft, in the engine, while waiting for Bobby to finish cooking dinner. He has ink smudged on his hands, sometimes. On his lip, once.

Eddie had watched him chew on the back of the pen for a whole minute before bolting, that time.

He scans the clues, book held a little awkwardly against the armrest of the couch. There’s Worn by firefighters or legs that makes his mouth tick into a grin, HOSE in Buck’s neat scrawl; Cruise: ___ Business which should be RISKY but Buck has left empty, which makes Eddie smile so wide he has to bite the inside of his cheek.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees that Hen is on her phone, but he still feels watched. Suddenly desperate to fill the silence just to dissolve that tense anticipation where he’s just waiting to be interrogated, he quickly scans the page for things left unanswered, and quietly prompts, “four words. ‘Wanting tree’.”

Hen hums, considering. “Pine.” Her gaze, pointed right at Eddie, is so piercing he almost feels it in his chest. 

“Okay.”

“You don’t want to write that down?” Hen asks.

A spike of— something, like a prickling at the back of his neck. Like he’s been caught. “Buck will want to finish it,” Eddie tells her, still looking at the incomplete crossword instead of at his friend. Though he doesn’t miss the way she closes her eyes and shakes her head, a little exasperatedly.

“So, we’re just not going to talk about…” Hen pauses and points, vaguely, in the direction of Eddie’s lap with her phone, “that.”

Eddie ignores her, and since he’s been caught out anyway, and because it’s Hen and he knows she won’t actually judge him for it, finally looks down instead, at the mess of dirty blond curls against the deep blue of his uniform pants; at Buck, his sleep-parted lips, the way his eyelashes rest against his cheeks, fluttering just slightly. Buck must be dreaming.

“No,” he says, voice so low he thinks Hen might not even catch it, not taking his eyes off Buck. He hears Hen sigh, mutter under her breath. She doesn’t say anything else to him, but it’s hanging in the air anyway. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Eddie goes on despite himself.

“You say that,” Hen tells him, “but, you know.”

He hesitates— thinks, for a moment, about telling her about that ache in his chest, something unsettling and familiar all at once spreading over the entirety of him, the way his fingertips feel like they’re on fire, electrified, magnetized and drawn to Buck. What he ends up saying is, “don’t know what you mean.” 

And instead of replying, Hen’s eyebrows draw together in a way that looks almost like pity, but, deep down, Eddie knows it isn’t.

Deep down Eddie knows a lot of things.

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911 hiatus rewatch ↝ 3.02 Sink or Swim

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911 hiatus rewatch ↝ 3.05 Rage

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Today’s bird is this house sparrow sunbathing; when he was warm enough on one side he turned to warm the other and it was adorable

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He missed a day but Ryan is back. He just posted a new picture from a photoshoot last year.

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the BEST thing about buck's I don't have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for and I don't have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with is that he doesn't even notice what he's just said. he might never notice until like 5 years from now waking up in a cold sweat in his buckley-diaz marital bed. like so often when a character blurts out something that telling in the heat of the moment they'll backpedal, or go 'wait no that didn't come out right', or even reiterate it (tommy: oh so you mean you don't have feelings for me? buck: ... I guess not.) but not our buck buckley. no brain to mouth filter. no ear to brain funnel. not one single understanding of any emotion he's feeling at any time. idiot. I love him.

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Hannibal S2E05 Mukōzuke

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crazy thing for buck to basically be like. yeah so what if i have feelings for eddie. doesn't mean im gonna fuck him. and then, because apparently that wasn't enough, he goes on to be like. yeah i fucked you tommy. doesn't mean i have feelings for you. like. the cognitive dissonance is Wild.

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endless 911 gifs // s01 e04

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the intercal challenge

hi everyone. I love photography.

I challenge you to find a photo that you've taken, one that you love, maybe two or three, and reblog this post with it. not too many! there are only two rules:

it MUST be a photo that YOU have taken.

you MUST put some effort into making it look good.

if you can't find a photo that's Just Right, I encourage you to go outside and take one. it can be right outside your home, or down the road, or across the country.

phone, digital, film, edited, filtered, raw, grainy, crisp, don't care - find that photo, one that YOU have taken, and attach it here.

here's my contribution that I took this evening on my phone:

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Hey (with the intention of dancing with you in the kitchen while we cook dinner)