so, another year has come and gone (well, nearly!) and it’s now time for my annual follow forever that includes a lot of amazing, spectacular, and long-known friends as well as blogs that i couldn’t imagine my dashboard being without. i love all of the blogs that i follow, but i have bolded some blogs that i am particularly fond of this year. even if you aren’t on this list, though,  know that i value you and enjoy your companionship and mutual followship. 

2017 was an oddly stagnant, but transformative year for me. i graduated from college. i began dating the love of my life. i asked the love of my life to marry me and she actually said yes. i had my first “big boy” office job, even though it ended up being temporary. i crossed the five year line of being on testosterone. i got a new car…. after getting into my first car accident ever, but still. i even lost some weight and started taking my ADHD seriously. i turned twenty FOUR this year. 

through all of it, y’all have been here to offer me reassurance, guidance, and “matt, you done fucked up”ance among other advice and words of encouragement. i’ve been on tumblr since 2008 and while there are more than a few problems with this so-called “hell site,” it’s still something i’m glad i signed up for nearly a decade ago. 

with all of that said, i wish each and every one of you happy holidays, a strikingly smooth transition into the winter season, and a bright and joyous new year and rest of 2018. 

season’s greetings!

0 — !

@3ridanampora / @148km / @99peraltas / @99royalty

A — I

@amesantiagos / @amysanticgos / @ams-parker / @amysantiage / @andydwyeer / @brown-aces / @b99 / @b99-icons / @b99-is-superb / @inothernews / @eleanorchidi / @apriki / @good-janet / @hearteyes-peralta / @dmigod / @captainsantiagos@captjakeperalta / @ginasalesbian / @andysambergdaily / @andysambergfan / @amys-binder / @callencomplx / @boldly-go-home / @frankenshane / @andysambcrg / @chandlermuriels / @daisysourcream1995 / @bluestoplights / @dailyperaltiago / @flowermotifs / @benwwyatt / @bisexualperaltaa / @afakepsychic / @full-santiago / @bingpot-peralta / @blackcoffeeheart / @big-damn-hero / @fanaticandfemale / @bartoncakes / @congratuwell-done / @elsaclack / @callchelseaperetti / @asynca / @intergalactic-dorks / @azurelakes / @amysjake / @fourdrinkamy / @belindy / @benjiwyatt / @haylestorming / @dreamedofyou / @boxesofpepe / @colinmorgasms / @buttheadjakeperalta @hotelsongs / @hotelsweet / @donoteattheyellowsnow / @ikolson / @dementors / @and-i-love-lying / @accio-fanfeels / @ezramillers / @downriversandroads / @im-the-swamp-witch / @edhelharn / @feministperalta / @centuriesuntold / @bunysliper / @dewyeyedschoolgirl / @bearpolars / @cloysterbell / @boothseeley / @ghost-of-saintjimmy / @disreputabledog / @ivicudus / @bigjazzboy / @astrovik / @alienflower / @avantgaye / @grevgrev 

J — R

@jamy-peraltiago / @jamy-peralta / @omgsamberg / @peraltiagoisland / @perxlta / @peraltasmoak / @peraltalinetti / @peralta-guarantee / @peraltaandsantiago / @johnnyxdora / @jonahsimms / @lauraholliis / @ohjacobperalta / @jakeperaltuh / @jakeperallta / @peraltiago / @jakesorangesoda / @nocontextgoodplace @nocontextb99 / @rosadiazed / @remusmoopin / @noel-fielding-forever / @jakelovesamy / @paperlings / @perfectperalta / @jake-amy / @rogeliodelavega / @leighway / @oranginna / @robin-scherbatskyz / @jameshalpert / @onyourleftbooob / @professorspork / @nolookfive / @julietohara / @mulaneysbutt / @jakefreakingperalta / @juliadorable / @jokeperatla / @matturaldisaster / @parlegee / @mukenope / @phil-the-stone / @liprouvaire / @ohmyperalta / @jahcobperalta / @mindykahling / @ohmyamysantiago / @needlebug / @ollivxnders / @okyrro / @kaleidofuckit / @leakedinlondon / @kevils / @jennytrout / @memedocumentation / @patrickjane / @newton-pulsifer / @macdicilla / @leerans / @ofgeography / @proofinyou / @mrbingley / @lupthereitis

S — Z

@stydixa / @stydiago / @stressful-and-deathy / @titleoftheperaltiagosextape @titleofoursextape @santiagoninenine / @zoewashburne / @zoemonroe / @suchanormaltime / @shitwesaid / @stranger-santiago / @undercoverperalta / @spencacus / @sambergandrew / @sambergpratt / @transpeter / @veronicamars / @strideofpride / @terry-jeffords / @sargentsantiago / @tinyperalta / @sergeant-santiago / @three-drink-amy / @the-pontiac-bandit / @scaryterryj / @suckitnerds / @the-beef-light-of-my-loaf / @santiagostyle / @scullysthumbtacks / @willowenigma / @winterinthetardis / @stardustsantiago / @smolperalta / @smolsamberg / @smokysardonyx / @startofamoment / @starklinqs / @youdontoutgrowpunk / @tetraghost / @silentcause / @youngsamberg / @tall-butt / @truckhole / @sonseulsoleil / @thinking-in-fragments / @sodadrinkr / @sludgebat / @thatsnicebutimmarried / @toriandrelativedimensionsinspace / @thisisarebeljyn / @shutupmerlin / @thegestianpoet


i would just like to reach out to each and every one of you that follows me and say: i hope your december is bright and merry, filled with laughter and love, and enables you to embark on a new adventure into the new year, which the optimistic part of me is cautiously believing will be better than the hell year that 2016 has been. 

more importantly, we are only a few weeks shy of spending time with family, friends, and that good holiday food that, despite basic laws of the universe, manages to simultaneously warm the belly and the heart. it’s a time for celebration – even if you are only celebrating that you survived this year – and i want to extend that celebratory spirit to all of my followers, including those not listed here. 

overall, this has been a transformative year: i turned 23, legally changed my name, entered into my fifth year of hrt, and will be graduating from college in two short days. i’m extremely grateful that i have been able to share these moments with you all and look forward to continuing that trend.

thank you and happy holidays!


@absolutelyiris / @absolutelysorted / @afuturefossilfuel / @aflyingpineapple / @ahomeboyslife / @aidenpond / @albuspercivalwulfric / @ameliaponds / @andysamberrg / @andysamburgs / @apriki / @ashleydavies / @azurelakes / @bartony / @bb8s / @benedictatorship / @bishopwinston / @bklyn-ninenine / @bluestoplights@boothseeley / @bowtied / @bpdjedi / @camiyak @cameronfryes / @centuriesuntold / @celestialqueer / @chatterboxrose / @chylerleigh / @chinuplittlepup / @clara-oswald / @cloysterbell / @colinmorgasms / @cptstevenrogers / @crystalsoulslayer / @curiousgeorgiana / @davidtennantinplacesheshouldntbe / @detectivesmars / @dinoscully / @disreputabledog@dnll / @dreamedofyou / @dreidels@dressthesavage@drjacobperalta / @dtperalta / @dutchovny / @downriversandroads@eclecticmuses / @elevenperalta / @endquestionmark / @eroscestlavie / @ewan-mcgregor / @expelliarmus / @ezramillers / @feministperalta / @foxmulders / @fscottfitzgerld / @gallifreyanboy@gggggnashville / @ghost-of-saintjimmy / @glintglimmergleam / @gooddogbestfriend / @gumballsupreme@gyzym / @hanniballecters / @hoursago 


@iceinherheart-kissonherlips / @icarusing / @ikolism / @imyouraziraphale / @inothernews / @iriswesst / @isntthatwizard / @itsbrooklyn99 / @ivicudus / @jakeperallta / @jacobsperalta / @jacobperalts / @jake-peralta / @jakeperolta / @jackocallahan / @jcobperalta / @jillianholtsmann@j-groffy / @julietohara@jomarch / @javerts / @karenandthababes / @kaijuno / @kevils / @kristenbobisten / @katebishoped / @leakedinlondon / @lemonyandbeatrice / @linmanuel / @loveatomb@lovegoods / @lucindasaxon@lyrasoxford / @obsessedobsesser / @ofgeography / @ohmyamysantiago / @ohmystana / @okyrro / @oranginna / @matthews-and-hart@mindykahling / @mrbingley / @muchmoremajestic@mukenope / @nintendette / @ninenine-brooklyn / @notabadday /


@paperfault / @pagetbewbster / @passrevoked / @peraltaandsantiago / @peralta-guarantee / @phasered / @phil-the-stone / @pleasantandcain / @queerstarks / @raptorific / @redinmyledger / @rosa–diaz@ruthwilson / @selchieproductions / @seapeny / @shutupmerlin / @six-drink-amy / @smolperalta / @smolsamberg@succeeding / @suckitnerds / @socialistexan / @stop-it-or-ill-crash-the-car / @stopitsgingertime / @spellbounder / @tall-butt / @thatsthat24 / @thebootydiaries / @timberlaking / @thatbluebox / @thatsnicebutimmarried / @the-eleventh-blog / @thebrigadier / @themindprobe / @transmutes / @veronicamars / @virginiachance / @vibranium / @winterinthetardis / @willowenigma / @wordsinhaled / @zoewashburne


@148km / @3ridanampora 

ivicudus  asked:

Kabby + 27? :D

a taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips

He’s looking over at her, trying to catch her eye over dinner. She’s very pointedly looking away from him, seemingly completely focused on an inventory list of their medicinal plants and herbs.

Finally, he puts his hand over the paper and drags it away from her.

“Abby, I know you’re not actually looking over that inventory list.”

She exhales forcefully and furrows her brow at him.

“Well, I’m not now.”

He tilts his head and gives her a skeptical look.

“We’re meeting with the Broadleaf clan tomorrow. We need to figure this out.”

She sighs and crosses her arms in front of her, seems to deflate with the motion.

“But…I don’t…want to?” She stares at him with an honest-to-god, full-on pout. It’s so endearing and adorable and tender that he almost just gives in right there.

Instead, he shakes his head and reaches across the table to clasp her hands in his.

“Abby, one of us has to meet with King Etane.”

She nods, looks at him expectantly for a long, drawn out moment before she wrinkles her nose.

“I know you’re going to say that it should be me.”

He nods at her.

“But, have you considered this: I absolutely don’t want to.”

He huffs an abrupt chuckle.

“Yeah, for some reason, that had crossed my mind.” He runs his thumbs over her knuckles.  "But I would like to remind you that I have met with the last three leaders, which - “

“You definitely should do since you’re the Chancellor and the official ambassador for Sky Crew - but go on.”

He raises an eyebrow at her and continues.

“Which I was going to say I certainly don’t mind doing and recognize as my main duty. But we both know that King Etane likes you better and you’ll be better able to speak to our medical capabilities and training. Meeting with the king yourself will be the best shot we have to a trade agreement that’s beneficial to both sides - and you yourself mentioned on their last visit that the king’s son would make a good apprentice.”

“Marcus, you can speak to our medical capabilities almost as well as I can.”

“That can’t be true. Plus, I do want to put out there again that I met with the last three clan leaders - including the one that keeps not so subtly hinting at a political alliance between me and her daughter.”

She huffs impatiently.

“Well, that’s the one I wouldn’t have minded meeting with.” Suddenly, she narrows her eyes at him. “Wait a second, did you meet with the other ones so I would have to be the one to meet with King Etane?”

He shakes his head at her, looks positively affronted at the suggestion.

“Of course not. I did those meetings because it’s what’s best for our people. Just like you meeting with the King is what’s best for Arkadia.”

“Right. It has nothing to do with the fact that Etane is a pompous, self-aggrandizing idiot who you hate?”

“None at all. This is for the good of Arkadia, Abby.”

At her raised eyebrow, he sighs heavily.

“But I do recognize that this is a sacrifice, so I will take care of all morning meetings for the next month.”

She tilts her head for a moment, considering.


He sighs.

“And I’ll be responsible for taking the kids to the open air market next week.” At her skeptical look, he throws his hands up. “And I will let you have the last cherry turnover of the season that I was hiding from you.”

She pulls her hands out of his grasp, hits him on the shoulder with the back of her hand as he sits grinning at her.

“I knew one of them had gone missing!”

He laughs and reaches back over to twine his fingers in hers.

“All that is yours if you just meet with the king tomorrow.”  

She grinds her jaw for moment, closes her eyes and then takes a long, slow exhale before looking at him with a defeatedly.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

He smiles brightly at her, leans across the table to kiss her firmly on the lips.

He passes her the next day as she walks down the hall with the King. He’s eating the last slice of apricot pie he brought back from his last foray to the traveling market, on his way out to ride horses with Bellamy, while she seems to be just barely tolerating a long-winded speech from the King.

As they pass one another, she scowls and brushes close to him.

“This is so not worth it,” she hisses into his ear.

He takes a bite of the pie and grins brightly at her.

“I love you,” he replies, his expression falsely sympathetic but his words a gleeful tease.

She glares at him, but can’t keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. She reaches over and steals the pie just as he’s about to bite into it, hurries after the king with a triumphant grin on her face.

ivicudus  asked:

Skyparents + 11.“You can have half.”

Life on the Ark was sustained through a combination of three things: algae blooms grown in tanks on Hydra Station, protein powder manufactured from soy grown on Farm Station, and potassium chloride powder made in Factory Station alongside potassium-based soap, ink, and light bulbs. It was a complete diet, but despite the efforts of the Ark’s culinary technicians and the herbs and spices grown in Farm Station, algae and powder could only be transformed into so many things.

Their first real harvest on the ground is overwhelming, to say the least. Real bread made from real wheat and real yeast, for example. It melts on the tongue, light and sour and slathered in real butter. Abby thinks she likes bread the best, until she tries a chocolate cake made from cocoa from the Broadleaf Clan. 

Abby Griffin would be perfectly willing to get floated for a single slice of chocolate cake. 

Which is why when Marcus sits himself down beside her, she pulls her plate closer to her on her lap. It’s a cool October, and while they’re sitting close to the bonfire in the middle of camp, it is a chilly night. So when he puts his arm around her and tucks her head under his chin, she doesn’t immediately think anything of it. 

Until his finger scoops a swath of frosting off her slice of cake and carries it to his mouth.

“I will take your hand off with my fork,” she says, glaring up at him. Which is hard to do, with him keeping her so close against his side. 

He laughs. “There isn’t any left at the table. And you love me.” 

“I wouldn’t count on that.” 

Not that she can see it from this angle, but she can all but hear the pout on his face. “Abby…” He nuzzles her crown, and when she turns her head slightly, his mouth lands on her temple. He murmurs her name again, kissing a gentle trail from her forehead to her ear. 

She sighs. 

With her fork, she sections off a carefully portioned bite of her cake, and then brings it up to his lips. “You can have half.”

His smile is triumphant. Later on, they debate to whose half the icing that winds up in her cleavage belongs. Not that the argument progresses very far – Marcus kisses the last of the chocolate flavor out of her mouth in front of their drunk and disorderly constituents. When they make it back to their quarters just a few minutes later, Abby has other things on her mind than the stripe of icing that he licks off the valley of skin between her breasts. 

ivicudus  asked:

melinda may + socks (or may/coulson + socks). yes, socks.

“What are you wearing?” she whispers, leaning into his shoulder in order to get a better look in the dim light.

“Do we have to do this now,” he says, a low note of what she’s pretty sure is mortification entering his voice.

“Are you wearing socks with Captain Roger’s shield on them,” she says, her voice level, the combination of the half-light, and her hair spilling forward over her face as she leans hiding the slight smirk on her lips.  He stares at the side of her face accusingly, though, and she knows he can sense it, so she presses further.  "Are you really escaping a HYDRA cell in Captain America socks.“

"I didn’t expect them to take my shoes, May,” he says, his voice wry and quiet in the slim space between them.  She looks up, still leaning into his shoulder.  They’re pressed together in a dark corner, waiting for the guard to pass by.  She calculates it’ll be another two minutes - she’d check her watch, but they took that, too.

“Striking fear into our enemies at every step,” she says, meeting his eyes squarely, enjoying the twitch at the corner of his lips, the aggrieved sigh she feels as well as hears.

“They were a gift,” he lies evenly, and she’s well aware that he knows she knows he’s lying, but she lets it pass, for now.  Later - well, later is later.  Right now she has to get him home.

Instead, she lifts one cool eyebrow, and watches his battle to suppress his smile completely dissolve.  "One minute,“ she says, and he nods, and she realizes, distractedly, that she’s still looking at his lips.  She turns back to the hall, the heat of his body comforting as they try to press further into the shadows.

"May,” he whispers after a moment, their eyes still focused on the hallway, waiting for the guard.  "Don’t tell Hill.“

ivicudus  asked:

Fitz & May and 20. breaking the rules

It is Jemma’s idea to go up in the Bus. Facing their fears head on, she’d said, nodding as if to convince herself that it was a good idea. Coulson’s apprehensive, but Jemma’s undeterred, turning to May.

“May will take us up, won’t she? I’ve been doing some reading, and studies have shown that in cases like these it’s best to —" 

May nods, and so they go.

Koenig’s livid. He’s ranting on about how inconspicuous a plane the size of the Bus is and how it compromises their location, how this breaks every protocol in the book. Coulson negotiates, Trip reasons, and May simply stares him down. 

They get on the plane.

Keep reading

ivicudus  asked:

So... The Leftovers? I was on a fence whether to watch it because there's been like 25 versions of 'people went missing/dead and then came back' shows including the original french and was a bit like nooo, not again.

Okay, I have a lot of thoughts, but the first disclaimer I must make is that I didn’t read the book (The Leftovers by Tom Perrotta). I’m not sure if that would have positively or negatively influenced my impression, but it’s possible some of the accolades I give the show are a result of strong source material.

So, the show. Broad strokes premise: It’s 3 years after 2% of the world’s population went missing (known as the “Sudden Departure”), and the story focuses on the people left behind in a small town in New York.

Here is what’s different about it… it is not a mystery. While I’m assuming there are still people in the world trying to figure out what happened—scientists holed up in labs, governments setting up task forces, etc., this story is about the emotional impact the “Sudden Departure” had on the people still left in the world (and, in particular, the people in this town of Mapleton). They never set up the departure as a mystery that is going to be solved, and unlike LOST, they don’t tease you with semi-answers along the way to make you think they will give you an explanation. This is 100% a character study show (MY FAVORITE) and a smart people show. This isn’t something you watch while doing laundry, and it’s not something I believe you’re meant to fully understand intellectually right off the bat either. Like, everyone grab your favorite bottle of wine and come over to my place after you watch because this needs to be discussed.

I do find the first handful of episodes to be weak—I spent a lot of time going “what the hell is going on?” because I was expecting a more traditional style show. But despite the confusion, there’s just some unidentifiable hook that kept me intrigued and willing to give it just one more episode. And then I got to Nora (YOU WILL LOVE HER) and episode 6, and it’s like all the bits and pieces of this story finally start tying together and it picks up speed through to the finale.

What this show does incredibly well is make you feel. It spends most of the time on the dark side of the emotional scale—in sorrow and desperation and trauma, but there are these moments of soaring hope that are incredible, this lingering thin thread of human perseverance that is absolutely b e a u t i f u l to see and feel. The writing is smart, and they cast talented actors that could carry and tell this emotional story. The music score is breathtaking, and the camera work/editing is creative and intimate. Symbolism is everywhere (I’m rewatching the show again and still seeing things I missed the first time), along with oh so many delightful parallels.

So basically, this isn’t like any sort of “people go missing” show I’ve ever seen—mostly because, this isn’t about the people that go missing. And I haven’t felt as emotionally satisfied, or simultaneously drained and exhilarated, at the end of a tv finale as I have with this. I give no promises for S2 (my understanding is the S1 finale ends where the book did, so the show is in uncharted territory next year), but S1 is a complete story and a stunning work of art.

ivicudus  asked:

I'm currently fighting Word (die in a mighty fire) so I would be nice to see Lix or Randall or both fighting some mundane either kitchen appliance, typewriter etc. You know, when all of world's technology is against you.

[sorry, I didn’t post this last night! But I hope you managed to work the *brilliance that is Word :D AU, hope I didn’t deviate from the prompt too much! :)]

It can’t be that difficult, he’s watched her do it at least a hundred times, with a proficiency he could only dream of and the baby always seems to be more corporative as well. She has taken to rolling around on the blanket just as he’s got the cloth in position and stares up at him as he lets out a frustrated sigh, the blue of her eyes bright and challenging him.

“Please, darling,” he tries, keeping his tone low, leaning forward, she begins to paw his face happily, “I know your Mama’s better at this but we have to muddle through while she’s sleeping.”

This does not achieve the desired affect, indeed, the exact opposite; Sofia stills for a moment before commencing to wail and he puts down the fabric, admitting defeat. He feels hopeless, completely, completely hopeless; Randall Brown, a man who can brave war zones and take bullet wounds in his stride, is incapable of looking after a two month old child for an hour, so Lix can get well deserved some rest. He doesn’t want to wake her but the baby appears to have other ideas, screaming until he hears a cough from the doorway.

“Why is she howling like a banshee?”

Randall turns his head to look at her, slumped against the wall connecting their bedroom to the only other room in their small Paris flat, he smiles apologetically, noticing the heaviness of her eyelids and the shirt of his shrugged on her shoulders, “sorry.”

She rolls her eyes and walks over to the pair, the baby smiling happily upon seeing her mother kneeling down to inspect his handy work, “for God’s sake, Randall, it’s only a nappy,” of course, she completes the task in a matter of seconds and Sofia is as placid as ever, Lix gathering her up into her arms carefully.

“I’m useless,” he mutters finally, “you’re so good with her.”

“I’m her mother.”

“No, but I mean-“

She tilts the child in her arms to look in her eyes properly, to accent each of her words with a kiss, “do you hear that, sweetheart? Your Papa simply cannot do without me, we’ll teach him the ropes, won’t we? And you must try to be a little kinder to him, he’s a bit of a novice at the moment and I know he’s not exactly Prince Charming but he loves you very, very much.”

“I love you, too,” it comes out before he can think, before he process the words and they leave a bitter taste because she studies him too slowly, they both know the response hadn’t been meant for the baby who she now lowers back down onto the quilt, sleeping soundly because getting to her feet and murmuring something about the washing.

She needs more time, he realises, loving is new to her and they need time to practise together, just like he needs to practise changing nappies.

ivicudus  asked:

The Hour prompt: Lix/Randall, coffee

“Didn’t know you liked coffee,” he says as he moves across the room towards her, camera in hand, tie crooked and still covered in the dust and debris from the bombing that had occurred earlier in the afternoon.

“Well, perhaps that’s because you barely know me, Mr. Brown,” the younger woman replied, “you might want to fix your tie before Harris sees you, we all know what he’s like with being tidy.”

The man looks down, looking agitated as he adjusts his tie underneath the pin, not being able to help aligning the camera with the edge of the table as he places it down.

He sits down opposite her, looking curiously at the papers she is so focused on, “what are you working on?”

“Drinking coffee and reading. You, however, don’t seem to be doing anything to aid getting any articles about the current situation to the rest of the world at all,” she snapped, taking a deliberate sip of the steaming black drink.

This sort of interaction between the two was commonplace - having been partnered up for various different research endeavours and stories, the woman had become somewhat sick of spending her time with him, seeing as he was hardly what she would call exciting.

“I think I’ll just-“

“You think you’ll just what?” her voice bites at the question, the woman obviously at the end of her tether as the day reached its end.

“Go. I think I’ll just go,” he replies, picking up his camera with a sigh. Despite his tries, he still wasn’t getting anywhere in making friends with her. Perhaps he never would. But how was he to know?


Twenty years later, the pair sits at the breakfast table in his flat, coffee in front of both of them as the morning light breaks through the blinds, the cold biting as the heating remains broken.

The past few hours have been a blur: their daughter is dead, her colleague-turned-unrelated-son has almost bled to death on the front lawn of Lime Grove Studios and they have had to try to reconcile with each other and fix their broken relationship.

As they sat there, he taps the table repeatedly, before she reaches out to stop him, moving to sit on the chair beside him as she takes his hand in hers, kissing his temple gently as they sit in silence, bitter coffee forgotten as they become lost in their thoughts.

ivicudus  asked:

Their bar scenes always kill me because familiarity even after years and ugh feels go away.

I love when they’re aware of a moment between them, aware it’s a moment they’ve had a dozen times before. It’s so easy to fall into old habits, and they recognize they’re not in the same place together anymore, but they still let it happen anyways. So simple interactions are actually much more weighted because they’re aware of what they’re doing - all the time and consequence of what happened to them is allowed to sit outside reality for a very brief period because there’s comfort in being what feels right.


Top 10 TV Shows

Been tagged by ivicudus for this very difficult task. Here’s my list. In no precise order. (10 aren’t enough!). With commentary too.

  1. The Hour (no need to explain)
  2. Gilmore Girls (Emily Gilmore FTW!)
  3. Alias (Spy!Daddy!)
  4. The Good Wife (Badass lawyers and cowboys)
  5. Parenthood (Cry my heart out)
  6. Downton Abbey (right now it’s mostly the show I love to criticize)
  7. The West Wing (because of Goldfish and journalists)
  8. Buffy (most badass librarian ever)
  9. JAG (I wanted to be a lawyer for 5 minutes…then I understood it wouldn’t have come with the cool uniform)
  10. Fringe (we’ll always have the Red Universe)

ivicudus  asked:

I just noticed, he still has his ring on the left hand. Matt Smith as Doctor didn't have did he? Even after River marriage.

Yes but it doesn’t look like just Peter’s own ring .It appears bulkier and it looks like another ring has been attached, with a design on it. Now this could mean it will just be an accessory, but that would seem strange as it’s on the wedding finger, so could there be another wife? Susan’s grandmother? I have no idea. Curious. 

ivicudus  asked:

The thing about your writing is that your characters always feel real and you alway manage to get across their motivation, be it newsroom or the 100 or anything. They might do stupid shit but it will be understandable from their internal reasoning

Oh thank you!!! Considering the bullshit on our screens right now, this means so much to me like omg <3333

ivicudus  asked:

I still reread your The Hour fic when I get hit by The Hour blues (the fic still makes me cry jsyk, one of my personal top 5) sooooooo... you know where I'm going with this :D Is there a chance you'll visit TH universe sometimes? I mean you def don't have to, just asking. For a friend.

Oh my god. You are so wonderful. <3 I do want to write more fic for The Hour and especially for my babies, Randall and Lix. I have two ideas but they have never been fleshed out enough to start writing. That fic was a true labor of love and it took me like 3 months working on it off and on to finally finish it.

ivicudus replied to your post: ivicudus replied to your post: ivicudus replied to…

Nah. I do like good angsty fics and with Jack Bristow… I mean how can you not, he’s the walking epitome of angst. But I reject Alias S5 ending and substitute my own when they are secretly very much alive and in cahoots doing spy things.

Season 5? What Season 5?