gyzym: (Leaf)
Three FIVE things:

1) TUMBLR. WHAT IS IT, HOW DOES IT WORK, WHAT DOES IT DO. Mine is here, and I assure you it will have changed in theme and title at least four times by the end of the week, because I am like that. I POSTED A PICTURE OF PRETTY RAIN, oh, god, social media, why, why, why, I hate you why. IF YOU GUYS ARE ON TUMBLR, TELL ME AND I WILL...FOLLOW...YOU? POORLY, PROBABLY. Oh god mostly I'm doing this so I can stop making 15 posts a day here, and/or because I like the word "tumblr" even though it frightens me.

2) Sometimes I get weird about things, you guys know this, IF I HAVE MISSED REPLYING TO A COMMENT IT'S NOT YOU, it's that I'm not getting half my notifs and Burro went back to college Sunday morning and I miss him more than is really acceptable and sometimes that kind of thing manifests itself strangely, in that I get randomly overwhelmed and then feel like an asshole when I try to catch up because HOW DID I DO THIS and blah blah because I'm a ~special snowflake~, or, to put it another way, flaky. SORRY. SORRY. I am shaking it off and am mostly back to normal now, but the last few days were kind of just missing my bro and what the hell random anxiety that I didn't recognize until it was mostly over, mixed in with a story idea that has eaten me aliiiiiive, which I desperately want to talk about but am afraid of scaring away, because, eep, pressure! What if people don't like the idea? What if people DO LIKE THE IDEA AND THEN I CAN'T WRITE IT? <---Behold, the anxiety train, it's still in the station. I will probably spend the next few days being my regular old self but compulsively APOLOGIZING FOR EVERYTHING, be warned. Feel free to just ignore that, MY APOLOGIES :D

3) Shit, I've forgotten the third thing. WAS IT THAT [livejournal.com profile] iam_space HAS LEFT ME WITH THE IDEA OF CALLING MY TUMBLR "RUMBLR IN MY TUMBLR" AND I AM HAVING TROUBLE RESISTING? OR THAT I'M ALSO CONSIDERING CALLING IT "RUMBLR STUMBLR TUMBLR" EVEN THOUGH [livejournal.com profile] wheres_walnut WILL LAUGH AT ME FOREVER? Probs.

4) OH NO I REMEMBER THE THIRD THING IT IS THAT I DISCOVERED THE ULTIMATE FANGIRL TOOL AND IT IS THE FUCKING CAPS CONVERTER. Yeah, that's right. That conversation you had in a chat window in all caps with your BFF Jill or whoever, flailing about Steve and Danny and cocks? That you want to turn into fic but can't because, oh, fuck, you did the whole thing in caps? BOOM, BABY. NOT A PROBLEM ANYMORE.

5) Random fifth thing: did anyone on my flist go to University of Michigan? IF YOU DID, SING OUT--I PROMISE, DESPITE MY OHIO BLOOD AND MY LOVE FOR OSU, I WILL NOT HATE ON YOU FOR THIS. Um, much. Maybe a joke or two, but really I just need to ask you a million questions about U of M and their alumni program for no reason at all, lalalala no reason, ahem. Leave a comment or PM me with contact info if you're willing to deal with me, yeah? Be warned: if you do this, I will probably chat at you and/or send you rambling emails at odd hours of the night.

OKAY, ENOUGH NOW. HERE, HAVE SOME SCOTTY IN FLANNEL FOR NO REASON AT ALL, NOOOOOO REASON, THIS IS JUST TO MAKE UP FOR THE REST OF THIS RIDICULOUS POST:



Hnnnng, Scotty. Hnnnng.

ETA: ALSO JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A CRACKER DO THESE TUMBLRBOT EMAILS EVER GET LESS WEIRD
gyzym: (Term of endearment)
So, [livejournal.com profile] wheres_walnut commented on my last entry about how she is not into H50, but wow, Scotty Caan with the well-fitted shirts. And see, my plan was to go get some soup (which SEEMS TO HAVE CURED MY ILLNESS HOORAY) and then come back and leave a bunch of Caan in a reply comment, but. Thing is, Burro, who understands me in my soul, showed up right after I got back with the soup. "I hear you are not feeling well," he said. "Let us watch Ocean's 11."

SCOTTY CAAN FOREVER, YOU GUYS. SCOTTY CAAN OF EVERY VINTAGE. BB!SCOTTY CAAN, CRINKLY EYED!SCOTTY CAAN, ALL OF THE SCOTTY CAAN. EVERYTHING IS SCOTTY AND NOTHING HURTS.

Point is, I am officially declaring it Scott Caan Appreciation Day here in this journal, and below the cut there are a bunch of pictures of him filling out those shirts. And filling out...the air around him...because hnnnng, hnnnnng, Christ that man is pretty.



EYES PEELED, GUYS. IT'S SCOTTY TIME.

I TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HEART ATTACKS THE CONTENTS OF THIS POST MAY INDUCE. )

In conclusion: [livejournal.com profile] wheres_walnut, Scott Caan is sexual napalm. I hope all is clear to you now.
gyzym: (Triple banana bitch)
HELLO, LIVEJOURNAL, HOW NICE TO SEE YOU UP AND RUNNING AGAIN. *Shakes fist* It had better keep it together for the rest of the afternoon, or we are going to have words.

Seriously, you guys, I am having a day, a day full of the stomach flu and also the stomach flu. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME, STOMACH. We are in a cease-fire right this moment, and I am hoping it lasts long enough for me to make it to the deli and get some matzo ball soup.

It will not be as good as mine, of course, but beggars cannot be choosers.

ANYWAY, I AM HERE TO SAY A COUPLE OF QUICK THINGS ABOUT MONDAY'S HAWAII FIVE-0, complete with screencaps from [livejournal.com profile] midnight_road, whose brilliance I would not have discovered without [livejournal.com profile] thegrrrl2002's last post. THANK YOU GUYS; YOU SAVED THE INTERNET FROM MY TERRIBLE SCREENSHOTS WITH THE LITTLE CLICKY BAR STILL IN THEM BECAUSE I AM BAD AT EVERYTHING ♥

Really, this will just take a second of your time... )
gyzym: (I vote for porn)
Linked by [livejournal.com profile] hermette, who must have a direct line to the land of Beauty and Rainbows or something:



I HAVE NO WORDS, ONLY FLAILING AND HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG. I DON'T EVEN HAVE THE CAPACITY TO MAKE A DOWN UNDER JOKE IN RE: WHERE I'D LIKE THIS MAN TO BE, THAT IS HOW GONE I AM.

SERIOUSLY. SERIOUSLY.

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNG.

ETA: OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU GUYS, [livejournal.com profile] siriaeve, WHO IS A GOOD PERSON, HAS FOUND THE ENTIRE MOTHERFUCKING ARTICLE WHICH GOES WITH THIS PHOTO AND YOU GUYS

YOU GUYS

THIS CAST, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST )
gyzym: (White flower)
Heeeeey, everybody, happy "you just lost an hour of your goddamn life" day! My apologies for the mildly drunken post I seem to have made last night; it was an accident, I assure you.

So first of all, a general cry for assistance to anyone on my flist with medical knowledge and/or personal experience with this: er. Supposing...I needed to mildly concuss a 9 year old in a story I'm working on...does anyone know how that would work? I mean, ideally she ends up released from the hospital and at home and her parents have to do that wake-her-up-at-intervals thing I hear you're supposed to do for the concussed, because the plot kind of...hinges on that happening. But can that even happen for kids, or are they always kept overnight if it's seriously enough for that? And also what *level* of a concussion would it be, aren't there grades of severity, and what symptoms accompany what grades? I've been trying to research it, and the internet--which either knows me too well for comfort or is secretly my mother--keeps coming back with things like "THIS IS HOW YOU KNOW YOU ARE CONCUSSED" and "ARE YOU FEELING FATIGUED? YOU'RE FEELING FATIGUED, AREN'T YOU, YOU LOOK TIRED. YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SEE A DOCTOR."

Which, you know, would be helpful if I'd suffered a head injury recently, but seeing as I haven't (knock on wood), I NEED YOU GUYS.


ETA: WOW, okay, you guys are fucking awesome. I've pretty much got a handle on this now--thanks especially to [livejournal.com profile] gollumgollum, who is both a nurse and a genius :D THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, OH MY GOD, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO WITHOUT YOU.

SECONDLY, IT'S TIME FOR A PICSPAM FOR PRETTY MUCH NO REASON AT ALL.

Things I have confirmed for myself in putting this together: NEEDS MORE SHIRTLESS CHIN )

In conclusion, I've decided to start a new religion based around Scotty Caan wearing flannel. I'm going to call it "Hfksdfhsdkf Hnnnnnnng Scotty Caan Oh My Fucking God."



WHO'S WITH ME?
gyzym: (I vote for porn)
Drive by post because I have to go do ALL OF THE THINGS, OH MY GOD, HOW DID TODAY GO FROM BEING QUIET TO BEING INSANE, but:



Right, okay, so. I recognize that I'm late to the Hawaii 5-0 party and this photo has probably been out there forever, I UNDERSTAND THIS, I DO. However, I did not figure anyone would suffer from seeing it again, because, I just.

Scotty Caan, what even is this? What even are you? How are you so ridiculously adorable all the time, INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.

*dashes off again*
gyzym: (OH STEVE)
Ahahahahahahahaha, uh, so, briefly, here's what happened here: weeks ago, [livejournal.com profile] angelgazing was like, I am having a bad day, and I was like, I will write you fic with your favorite things in it! And then I wrote some fic, but I stalled out, and I remained stalled out until [livejournal.com profile] hermette said FINISH THIS FINISH THIS and coaxed me to the end.

So, uh, because I am the one trickiest pony ever to only have one trick, here is...20K of trope-filled Steve/Danny curtainfic? And...um...oh, god, I've really got nothing else to even say.

Title: Curving Like the Ocean Toward You
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount 20,500
Author's Note: [livejournal.com profile] angelgazing, I'm apparently determined to write a ridiculously long love song to you in every fandom we share; this is the H50 edition, and I hope it passes muster. And [livejournal.com profile] hermette, thank you--for the plotting help, for hand-holding, for the amazing beta job. I love you guys ♥
Summary: If it ain't broke, fix it anyway.

Curving Like the Ocean Toward You [1/2] )
gyzym: (OH STEVE)
I TOLD YOU GUYS THERE WOULD BE FIC TODAY.

So, what happened here, basically, is that [livejournal.com profile] hermette and I were talking about our shared love for caught in a rainstorm/soaking wet and freezing cold h/c fic. And she said, it is a shame about H50 being set in Hawaii, because that kind of can't happen when it's warm all the time. And I said, PSHAW, PSHAW, I WILL WORK AROUND THAT FOR THE SAKE OF THIS PLOT DEVICE, HERE, LET IT BE STORY TIME.

And then she took all my crazed caplocked rambling and turned it into an outline for me. And then she cheered me on through writing the damned thing. AND THEN SHE BETA-READ IT FOR ME, BECAUSE SHE IS A GODDESS. Seriously, this fic would have languished in my brain for all eternity, but instead here it is, in all its. Er. Shamelessness? Glory? Shameless glory?

IN ANY CASE: THANK YOU, [livejournal.com profile] hermette. PLEASE ACCEPT THIS NONSENSE AS A TOKEN OF MY LOVE.

Title: bring you out under this flooded sky at any price
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~6800
Summary: In which Danny puts his family first, New Jersey weather is as unpleasant as advertised, and absolutely no one is impressed with Steve.

bring you out under this flooded sky at any price )
gyzym: (Rainman)
Oh, internet, I am having A Day.

I actually wrote a whole post about all of the things going wrong, and then I looked at it and thought, welp, this is whiny. So I am just leaving this last part, because it is at least sort of amusing.

-My firm actually hired a cute guy for once! This never ever happens, and I met him Monday, and he is both hilarious and excellent looking--think Dileep Rao in Inception, but skinnier and with shorter hair (same heart-stopping smile, though, hnnnnnng forever). He is adorkable in exactly the way I like, and it's been awhile since I've felt this kind of WHOA HEY OH MAN FJDSFHJDSKF attraction for someone, so, you know, hooray.

Problem: today I found out where his desk is. To get there, you must: go down a hallway, go down another hallway, go down a third hallway, turn into a fourth mini hallway, open a door, turn a corner, open another door and turn another corner. HOW DO YOU CASUALLY STOP BY SOMEONE'S DESK WHEN GETTING THERE MIGHT AS WELL INVOLVE SLAYING THE NEMEAN LION, YOU GUYS? I mean, seriously, I feel like I should don a sword and go on a quest for him, this is ridiculous.

It's a stupid problem, but come on, universe, make it a little easier on me, huh? Everyone else in my office is married, over the age of 50, or a gigantic asswipe, PLEASE JUST SLOW-PITCH ME THIS ONE.

IN CONCLUSION, HERE IS SCOTTY CAAN LOOKING NOTHING LIKE A WAITER TO IMPROVE YOUR DAYS, WHICH I HOPE ARE GOING BETTER THAN MINE:



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