#also they are def calling from their burner phone

[inseparableduo]

Like this post for twins to prank call your muse

Some of it will be the classics and some of them will be ominous

[prod-ddeonu]

TIGHTY WHITIES | p.js

episode 4: tick, tick, boom.

pairing: college! Jay x fem! reader

CW/TW: enemies to lovers, smau, angst, fluff, smut, horrible comedy, slice of life, jay gets exposed BAD, kys jokes, assault, drinking, mentions of bullying and anger issues, arguing, they're both pretty bad in this one but Jay def took the cake

synopsis: You and Park Jongseong have been enemies for years. Heck, the two of you grew up picking fights with each other. A hateful war of tricks and deceit turns from bad to worse, however, when you finally trump him. Nobody can come back from having a photo of themself in tighty whities sent to the entire school, right?

status: ongoing!

taglist: open! (fill out the google form to be added! your user should be tagged on the masterlist and the next chapter after you submit!)

word count: 1.08k

You were simply sitting down and enjoying a nice relaxing moment in the quad, watching the water spill from the fountain. Sure, the world may have been on fire behind you, but you just wanted to watch the water droplets soar downwards.

A harsh set of footsteps land beside you. You already knew who it was by the way his feet stomped down. He cleared his throat once, loudly.

You twisted your neck to look at him, your eyes meeting his. The cockiness in your stare may have only served to boil his blood, you thought, but anyone in your position would have their ego boosted.

You'd just won a war that had gone on for fifteen long years. Since the day you were six and truly felt that hatred tear through your tiny heart for the first time, the two of you had been in a constant game of cat and mouse.

Jay was going to a sold-out movie with his friends? You used a burner email to tell him his purchase hadn't gone through, and that his card was frozen due to fraudulent activity.

Jay was going to a restaurant with his friends? You called the owner, posing as another restaurant owner, to kindly inform him of a man named Jay that would send back countless meals till he had hundreds of dollars worth of food for free.

These methods may have been on the more cruel side, but Jay never took a blow silently. No, Jay would strike back with even more force, it seems.

Jay had once catfished a very popular BELIFT University student athelete as you and proceeded to make the entire baseball team hate you.

Jay had also posted your phone number on numerous social media platforms, telling the world to call the number for ridiculously cheap resale tickets to a concert.

Although everyone watching this game considered it a prank war, you knew it was so much more. Everyone else looking from the outside in only saw your plans blow up in Jay's face, or vice versa.

Only you could see the hatred in Jay's eyes when he looked at you. You'd catch him glaring at you during the day, his once dark brown eyes glowing with the fire burning behind his pupils. You could see the scowl he'd bite back when you passed him on campus, almost as if it pained him to just be near you.

Likewise, only Jay was able to interpret the evil behind your burning stares. Only Jay was able to feel the goosebumps forming on his arms from the slick of your slimy, fake, forced smiles. The only time he'd ever seen you genuinely smile since first grade was when he ate shit, and you knew that.

Jay's shadow loomed over your body. "Y/N, can we talk?"

You smiled at him. "Sure, Jay, what's up?" You cheerily harped.

He took one look at you before rolling his eyes, tongue pushing against his cheek. "Don't give me that happy-go-lucky shit," Jay scoffed and shook his head. His hand raked through his dark hair. "I know you're hiding your cocky ass smirk behind that smile."

"Oh, but, Jay," You slightly dropped your smile, "I'm extremely happy at the moment. I feel as though I've accomplished a life goal, y'know?"

His stare turned from angry to furious.

Jay was now standing in front of you, his phone shoved into your face. "Explain what the fuck this is," he growled. Before you was the exact photo you'd stolen from his mom's old Facebook, and your ultimate trump card.

"Jay!" You feigned bashfulness. "I didn't think we knew each other well enough for you to expose yourself to me like this! Oh, my eyes!"

He grew increasingly frustrated with your sarcasm, you could see it. The only thing that gave you close to the same dopamine effect as ruining his day was lighting the very short fuse attached to his time-bomb temper.

Tick.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, can you be goddamn serious for once? This is too fucking far!" Jay shouted, turning the heads of bystanders.

You cocked a brow, mirroring his own habit. "Your own mom posted that photo, Jay. Anyone could already see it. I just brought it to the crowd you knew," you shrugged.

He looked up to the sky and let out a dark, gutteral laugh. "My God. My fucking God," he mumbled. "You're so insufferable, fuck! You do this shit all the time, and for what? To make my day worse? Do you get off to making everyone else miserable?"

"I don't make everyone else miserable. Just you."

Tick.

By now, numerous people had gathered with their phones in their hands. Most were recording, you figured.

"No, Y/N! You make everyone's lives suck. You and this petty bullshit you pull daily, nobody fucking likes it. Nobody likes you, Y/N," Jay pointed at her with his index finger, his phone long forgotten in the other hand.

You stood up, closing the distance further between the two of you. Your noses could almost touch if you leaned in.

You scoffed at him this time. "Oh, please, Jay. You're so obsessed with me, it's like you're in love with me or something"

Boom.

Jay looked at you with a glare that could melt metal. If looks could kill, the entire country would have become an entire crater that that instant.

"I wish your old friends would've bullied you worse, maybe then you wouldn't have become the aggravating piece of shit you are now."

You were physically taken aback. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes lost their iron-hot touch. You brought your hand to your mouth in shock.

The crowd around you murmered. "Did he really just say that?" One girl whispered behind you.

Jay's own look shifted from anger to guilt as the weight of his own words hit him.

"I didn't mean that," he quickly said. "I am so sorry, I didn't-"

You smiled back at him. "No, Jay, I get it. I really do," you backed away. "I started it. I- I crossed the line first, I get it."

Jay went to apologize again, but you walked away before he could. Jay could only look at the ground in a mixture of shock and shame as you walked away, swallowing your nausea and pain back down into the depths of your body.

notes: yea jay and y/n def said some stuff they can't take back 😭

BACK | MASTERLIST | NEXT

tags: @deobitifull @eladandan @rikakhairana-blog @igotkkaebsonged

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

AHHHH IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ELSE REALIZES MICHAEL IS SO MICH LIK JD FROM HEATHERSSS ESP THE MUSICAL VERSION ☝🏻 ALSO YOU WERE MEANT TO BE MINE WOULD DEF FIT YANDERE MICHAEL!! sorry i’m just kinda excited 😓💗

LISTEN I LOVE MICHAEL. HE REMINDS ME OF THIS KID I WENT TO HIGHSCHOOL WITH WHO ALSO REMINDED ME OF JD

Anyways, Meant to be Yours is my absolute favorite song from the musical, so I had so much fun writing this one. I don’t really know how to write yandere, so I did try my hardest, but don’t be disappointed if it’s not yandere enough 🤣

PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS STORY

FALSE SEWERSLIDE IS MENTIONED!! I DO NOT WRITE ACTUAL SEWERSLIDE. FOR THE SAKE OF THE FIC ONLY, IT’S PURELY BASED ON THE EVENTS THAT HAPPEN IN THE FILM AND THE MUSICAL. THIS FIC IS VERY HEAVILY TRIGGER WARNINGED! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TWICE!

Warnings: firearms, mentions of guns, an actual gun description once or twice, faking of sewerslide (yes, just like in the scene in both the movie and musical), extreme violence in the name of society, mention of bombs, mention of terrorist act

~~~~~~~~~~

It had finally come. The night of the pep rally was here and you were in your bedroom, getting ready to go spend time with Heidi after pushing her to the back burner. Your ex boyfriend took up all your time, but now that you’ve broke things off with that psycho, you wanted to work on repairing your friendship with the brunette. You had just walked out of your bathroom after taking a shower, wasting no time in getting dressed and sitting at your vanity to take care of your hair and face.

You had just began to comb through your hair when your brush slipped from your grasp, falling to the floor. Looking up, you groaned in frustration, your eyes flicking to your phone to check the time. You were already running behind, and it seemed like the universe just wanted to keep you from getting to the school gym on time. Bending down from your seat, you grabbed the handle of your brush, straightening your back as you looked back to the mirror of your vanity.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you noticed an all too familiar figure had appeared seemingly out of no where. You stood up quickly, turning to face the figure as if to shield your back from him. “Michael?!” you exclaimed, disbelief running through your system. The tall male smiled at you, striding to your shocked form. “It’s me, in the flesh. I know, shocking, right? I figured you needed a while to calm down from your episode the other day.” he stated, reaching his hand up to graze your cheek softly.

You flinched away, your eyebrows furrowing in anger. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, Michael! You’re insane.” you said coldly, glaring at the taller male. He just looked at you with an unimpressed look on his face. He sighed, looking to the side and around your room. He made his way over to your bed, perching himself of the side of it. “Insane? What do you call yourself then?” he questioned, turning his attention to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came out. In a way, what he was insinuation was right. He was twisting your words in the way he always did when he wanted to prove his was right. Instead, you chose to ignore his words, not wanting to play into his mind games.

“Michael, for the last time, get. Out. Of. My. Room. Get out of my fucking house, and get out of my life!” you snapped, never faltering in your stance. He looked at you, an unreadable look on his face. You could see his eyes were sizing you up, but you couldn’t discern the emotion rest of his face. He scoffed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. “I don’t think this whole spat we’re having right now is gonna end in the way either of us want it to. So why don’t we just forget about everything that’s happened and start over?” Michael announced, holding his hand out. “Greetings and salutations.” he finished, his signature smirk on his face.

You stared at him incredulously. “You’re a psychotic asshole,” were the only words that fell from your mouth. His face dropped for a moment, before he started laughing. “Come on, (Y/n)! Let’s go to that stupid rally and put everything behind us.” he coaxed, standing from your bed. It was in that moment that you finally noticed the gun in his hand, finger resting lazily on the trigger. With minimal thinking, you darted into your closet, shutting your door and making a makeshift lock. You pulled a pile of clothes over you, hiding in the safety of the dark room. His familiar foot steps sounded until they were just outside of the closed door. “All is forgiven, baby! Come on, get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight!”

You chucked me out like I was trash

For that you should be dead..

But!

But!

But!

Then it hit me like a flash

What if high school went away instead?

Those assholes are the key!

They're keeping you away from me!

They made you blind, messed up your mind

But I can set you free!

Your heart raced and your mind ran a mile a minute. Away from all of his delusions for a few days, you wracked your brain trying to decipher his words. Messed up your mind? The only one who’s messed up your mind was him. He was the one who ruined your mind. It was Michael and his actions that deluded your mind. You always thought clearly until he metaphorically got you in a chokehold over him. You stared intently out the door, like a prey waiting for the predator on the other side to break the door down.

You left me and I fell apart

I punched the wall and cried..

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside!

And so I built a bomb

Tonight our school is Vietnam!

Let's guarantee they'll never see their senior prom!

Your eyes widened. You felt like you were going to throw up at his haunting words. You slowly slid your hands down to feel your pockets, searching for your phone to call the cops, to call Heidi, to call your parents, to just let someone know what was going on. Your heart dropped as you remembered it was sitting on your vanity. Cursing yourself for not grabbing it, tears flowed endlessly down your cheeks. Your mind raced at the thought of all of the other innocent people who were in mortal danger just a few blocks away from your house. His shoes blocked the light coming in from the bottom of the closet, signaling he was still just waiting beyond the door, torturing you with his presence.

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

Don't give up on me now!

Finish what we've begun!

I was meant to be yours!

Michael was absolutely delusional. And so were you when you were with him. He filled your brain with so much senseless bullshit that you actually believed he was doing good for the world. Now that you dropped the honeymoon phase, you realized just how sick in the head he was. The times he broke into your room out of no where, the cruel jokes he would play on the popular kids, the way he would gaslight you into believing that nothing was wrong. And now he was attached to you, just like a parasite to an unsuspecting animal.

So when the high school gym goes BOOM with everyone inside..

Pkhw!

Pkhw!

Pkhw!

In the rubble of their tomb

We'll plant this note explaining why they died!

We, the students of Westerburg High

Will die

Our burnt bodies may finally get through

To you

Your society churns out slaves and blanks

No thanks

Signed the Students of Westerburg High

'Goodbye.'

He was planning on blowing up the whole school as an act of protest. To turn around and shove some senseless notion into the face of people who didn’t care while taking the lives of over 200 people. And he wanted you to be there with him, amongst the group of those who are about to meet their untimely demise.

We'll watch the smoke pour out the doors

Bring marshmallows

We'll make s'mores!

We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!

It was even worse than you thought. He wanted you to sit from afar and watch with him as the blaze engulfed the school and its surrounding area. And he wanted s’mores? You had to do something to get out of here and clear out the school before he got there. Anything to warn somebody out there that they were in danger. Racking your brain, you looked around your closet, looking for a weapon of some sort. Your eyes instead landed on a scarf, and you knew what you had to do to escape your psychotic ex-boyfriend.

On the other side of the door, Michael had his forehead pressed against your closet door. His heart was also thumping in his chest, but not out of fear. Oh no, he was angry. He was angry with the school, angry with society, angry with you. So incredibly mad that you just brushed him off after all he had done for you. He had murdered for you just to show how much you are worth to him. And now you’re taking it back and trying to throw him out. He wasn’t going to stop until you had come out of hiding and came to watch the show.

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

I can't take it alone!

Finish what we've begun!

YOU WERE MEANT TO BE MINE!

I AM ALL THAT YOU NEED!

YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART!

CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED!

Michael reached out, gripping the door knob of your closet. He jiggled the door handle, expecting it to open easily. There was no leeway, and his anger steadily rose at your prolonged refusal to his offer. He looked to his other hand, at the gun he had brought with him. An idea rose to his brain, and he pointed the muzzle at the handle. He was going to get in, one way or another, and he didn’t care if he had to break the damn door down himself. Remembering you were in there, he lowered it, coming to his senses. He really didn’t want to hurt you. He loved you far too much to cause you any harm. He resumed to knocking on the door, sweetly pleading for you to open it.

(Y/n), open the- open the door, please

(Y/n), open the door

(Y/n), can we not fight anymore, please

Can we not fight anymore

(Y/n), sure, you're scared

I've been there. I can set you free!

(Y/n), don't make me come in there!

His anger was rising as you kept your silence. If he could just see you, just talk to you long enough to get you back on good terms with him, that’s all he wanted. He’d leave this town if it would make you happy, but he wanted to know that you weren’t angry with him anymore. He just wanted a peace of mind, to show that no matter how you felt about him, he’d always love you. He raised his gun again, pointing it at the handle.

I'm gonna count to three!

One!

Two!

Fuck it!

Horror ran across his face at your lifeless body hanging from the ceiling. He walked to you, falling to his knees.

Oh my God... No! (Y/n)!

Please don't leave me alone

You were all I could trust

I can't do this alone

He stared up at you, even in death, your face looked so sweet, so soft. Tears rolled down his eyes as he looked he looked on. He stood up, reaching out and grabbing your hand. He pressed his lips against your hand, setting it by your side gently. He was gonna get revenge for this. On who, he didn’t care, but he wasn’t going to stop until he felt like your life was worth its waste.

STILL I WILL IF I MUST…

He left the same way he came in, through the window. Tonight was gonna be the night he would remember forever.

As soon as he had left, your bedroom door opened. Your mother had come in, carrying some of your favorite snacks. “(Y/n)! I brought you a snack!” she called out. Looking around, she noticed your empty bedroom. She didn’t think you had left, so she walked in a little further, looking around for you. She stepped just behind your closet door, which she noticed was open. Swinging the door the rest of the way, she called your name once again before letting out a loud shriek.

You snapped your head up, holding your arms out to your mom. “Mom, mom, mom, it’s okay, I’m okay!” you fussed, your mom staring at you in shock, one hand clutched over her chest, the other still balancing your snack. You untied a part of the scarf from your waist, dropping to your feet and rushing to your mom. “I was just practicing for the day I run away and join the circus. Speaking of running away, thanks for the snack, but I gotta run! Emergency at the gym, I’ll explain everything later!” you shouted, running past your still shocked mother and out of the house. You were determined to get to the school before Michael did so you can repay all the karma that you owe, and you weren’t scared if you had to go down with him.

[scoobydoo-andnancytoo]

Reading Secrets Can Kill but I Share My Every Thought Chapters 5-8

- gym teacher borderline misogynistic ab cheerleading to Carla instead of just calling her irresponsible - Hal Morgan -> Hal Tanaka - Hal ran against daryl for class prez and im wondering if that's bc of Jake - Hal being blackmailed to write essay for Jake, maybe didn't actually copy an essay for this one - Jake has locker 515 - I don't think we know his locker number in the game ? which is a bummer bc that would be a simple fun tie-in - nancy uses a little lock picking kit which would honestly be a more fun puzzle/mini game than JAKE on the phone (esp bc puzzles feel so scarce in the remastered one to me) - Connie's bracelet inside locker so maybe he blackmailed her for it instead - i like Connie and Nancy being friends in the book - daryl sees her and smiles his "porsche driver's grin" whatever the hell that means ???

- daryl talks way too openly about her being a detective, idc if no one else is in the room - nancy ABANDONS investigating the video lab to ask Daryl to go for a coke. this is the biggest difference from the games because nancy wouldn't even stop sleuthing if Ned was deathly ill in those, meanwhile here's a man she just met and revved her engine at (never getting over that) and she's putting her case on the back burner - she literally tells daryl the last thing she wants to do rn is solve mystery. she's got it so bad wtf - Nancy's brakes aren't working as she's going downhill far too fast 😱 and Jake was poking around cars as she and daryl were leaving so Jake might be a lot more dangerous than he was in the game - they almost end up in an intersection until nancy veers them into the shoulder and after she almost kills them both she starts GIGGLING bc her car is due for inspection soon. ok girl. - her brakes were cut 😱 and then her car EXPLODES so....the affinity for explosions is the game seems to be in line w the book - hey maybe now nancy can get her dream Ford gt-e whatever convertible - after they got flung by the force of the explosion he's holding her and nancy is just thinking ab how "fabulous" daryls arms feel around her. GET A GRIP NANCY U ALMOST DIED - she and daryl had been kissing and now she finally, finally remembered Ned exists and feels bad lol - nancy thinks it's Jake and daryl asks what she's gonna do and she says "talk to him about it. first thing tomorrow" and personally if someone cut my BRAKES i would not simply chat with them about it ??? - bess and george are also like "hey maybe tell the cops instead of just talking to the guy who tried to kill you" but nancy is "confident she can handle him" HE CUT UR BRAKES !!!!!!!! what r u talking about nancy - Jake is dead now and i hope nancy will suspect daryl considering he knows she thinks it was him who cut her brakes and might have done it to ~protect~ her - I thought nancy would've been the one to find him when she went to confront him but ig not - Jake got beat up before being pushed down the stairs so im wondering if that'll be daryl but w/o him killing Jake - it seems like no one is pretending to be or acting sad that Jake is dead so ig the game fits the book - I would still pretend tho like??? - daryl does not seem to have found the body - even with all this nancy makes a point to make Carla jealous and kiss daryl's cheek she's soooo into him - nancy breaks in to Jake's locker pt 2, evidence tampering edition: wire cutters!! so he def tried to kill her, - nancy would bet her "$50 designer jeans" that Jake made the video and im stuck on the $50 part like who are we considering designer here??? - she finds an article ab walt (blech) having a football injury and if he couldn't play in the all state Champs he'd lose his scholarship but he "poo-pooed" the injury. you guys. i can't do it w this dialogue that is TERRIBLE - he also had SAT answers in there and I wonder if that's what Hal vs the essay from the game - I wonder why they changed that? it's interesting figuring out all the differences - desperate to know what he has on Connie tho !!!! - Brenda Carlton catches her committing a felony! idk who this lady is - OK investigative reporter girlie and nancy should team up and have an enemies to lovers arc forget Ned forget daryl idc - nancy is VERY murdery in this book between wanting to push Jake down the stairs and going "she promised herself one day she was gonna close that reporters notebook for good" like this is not the same girl detective that only blocked moves and never went on offense at the end of DAN - video lab has been trashed (hey maybe you should've investigated it before and not gone for a death ride w daryl instead !!!) - magically, the one not-trashed area has Jake's evidence tape - walt "hunk" hogan doesn't seem to be using steroids he's just badly injured and hiding it for the sake of his scholarship :( - this just seems messed up that he could lose it over an injury and is maybe doing worse damage to his body as a result - someone is hiding in the supply room of the video lab 😱 luckily she was smart this time and ran instead of confronting them - OK nvm door won't open and she hears footsteps behind her, confrontation imminent but also I feel like it'll just be daryl or smth and he saw her running but wasn't the one in the video lab

[icysab]

more touya headcannons cuz im so in love w him <33

warnings: def has manga spoilers, i probably swear a lot, unedited cuz it’s 1am and im losing my mind

- fuckin loves it when you kiss his nose

- literally will blush

- he’s never blushed before in his goddamn life but a stupid (cute) peck to his nose reduces him to some loverboy

- underneath his shitty box dye, his hair is super soft

- one time you helped re-dye it and you felt his roots and literally gasped because they were so soft

- i think he’d refuse to use any kind of 2 or 3 in one

- no matter the situation

- he really values hygiene, especially after living in the streets in filth for so long

- is so bad at household chores though

- like he doesn’t understand how to sweep you have to teach him pls

- i’ve said this time and time again but listening to sexy villain by remi wolf w him and fucking around

- i think he’d be a dominic fike fan ngl

- def likes hiphop and rock

- he’s totally a mitski fan too but keeps it secret

- really loves ttekbokki but can’t handle the spice

- has a tiny trinket or stuffed he’s kept with him since childhood no matter what but no one knows about it :((

- also a super soft spot for all his siblings and his mother, even shotou

- especially natsuo though :((((((

- he checks up on him from afar

- sometimes he’ll watch rei through the window (IN A NON CREEPY WAY) since he’ll never be able to visit her

- he also totally watched the sports fest for shotou and found himself cheering him on and then realized what he was doing and turned it off quickly

- visibly freezes the first time you call him touya

- he’s always despised that name but from you?? oh he’s in fuckin love

- you’re legitimately the only person he trust to let in whatsoever

- he has a rlly hard time saying “i love you” but shows it through his actions

- his love language is 100000% acts of service

- always leaves you a post-it with the number of his burner phone just in case you need it

- he has your number memorized

- it doesn’t matter what he’s doing

- he could be in the midst of murdering endeavor for gods sake

- but if you were in danger he’d drop everything

- honestly, he doesn’t know who he’d be without you

anyway that’s all for now :p

[konaizumi]

Manner of Death ep 14 thoughts/reactions

this was quite the episode, huh?

i know pued is still trash but at least he tried i guess (even if he didn’t get very far)

also rung really just keeps getting worse and worse, huh

i forgot to say this last week but pued really had a secret burner phone with a video of jane’s death and he didn’t have any kind of passcode on it?

bun’s little eyeroll at “because i don’t want to be your brother”

even por wanted them to release the video

yes, bun, call out tan’s self destructive behaviors

That and sorawit are so cute

okay but why didn’t the bad guys have guns trained on them from the start, like??

tan’s little look of “really?” when That gets caught

this whole scene is honestly a bit of a mess

i know your ego couldn’t handle not killing them executioner style but if you had killed them when you already had a bunch of guns trained on them, you’d all be free right now

i didn’t think M would actually kill gun but good for him

“why aren’t you injured” “bc you’re a shitty marksmen” *proceeds to kill gun how gun tried to kill him but actually succeeds*

there’s nothing sexier than when a characters hits someone over the head with a stick or a pipe or something

Tan, is this really the time to be teasing That

i love the writers but i swear they’ve never used technology or social media, was there a need for the hacker guy to make the virus when the technology exists to upload a video and set it to be released at a later time? like they coulda done that then it wouldn’t matter what rung did with the video

lol tan trying to tell bun that he doesn’t have secrets on his computer

also them acting like gps is some incredible technology

also rung is like one of the smartest criminals, why did she keep the phone and not smash it then throw the remains in a fire

also i always have this problem with shows but where exactly are they posting these videos that everyone’s getting a notification and instantly watching them? they avoided this problem with the facebook stuff in earlier eps bc it took a little while to get around and seemed to spread mostly through word of mouth

also why did the police officers just check their phones in the middle of this?

watching M arrest commander tung was cathartic

that tanbun hug

yes, my girl nam! unrelated but she looks so pretty with her hair like that

i also didn’t think rung would die but congrats to por for getting revenge

the woman who plays rung is a really good actress

i can’t believe m x oat is now canon, i love it, they’re adorable

awww, nam wants to be a doctor, nam desrves to live such a long and happy life doing everything she wants

not that That and sora aren’t super cute and I don’t want to complain but how easy would it have been for sora to kiss That on the cheek when he got on the motorcyle

i can’t believe how insane tan is, he’s lucky he’s cute

but damn as soon as I saw the box i was like ‘there better be a ring inside’

but the whole proposal was beautiful with the well edited flashback, it’s just *chef’s kiss*

now if it were me, i prob would’ve given tan a good slap before saying yes, but i guess bun’s used to it at this point

THEY’RE MARRIED!!!!!

im not crying, you are

god, the very last scene, with them in the matching white, the gorgeous view, just the nature sounds in the background, the sunset

im def not crying right now

the forehead touch

damn but that view tho

so, was the actual plot stuff a bit anticlimatic? yeah. did i still love the finale? with all my heart, like they really went above and beyond with the happy ending

i just love this show so much and i’m so sad it’s over, it was truly on another level

[inknopewetrust]

adieu, remember me. (1)

The Old Guard Booker x Female! Original Character

Summary: After a few years away, one member of the immortal team must return to protect their immortality and secrets as enemies begin to uncover their past.

Word Count: 1.6k 

Warnings: nothing yet!

Parts: ... | 2 | part 2 coming soon!

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about the work and it will def be more than 2 or 3 parts and longer than this one. Requests are CLOSED at the moment and I apologize in advance for any mis-wording or spelling in different languages because I don’t know french/italian but I feel in some cases it was necessary to use for character interactions. Published on 8/9/2020.

if you want to be tagged for the next part please let me know!

All original content is owned by me. Anything from the film/comic is property of the writers, studio, and director. Gif not by me.

Versailles evolves every so often but over 172 odd years, more visitors pack its halls and recall its history. Tourists from around the world flock to the once functional palace and the home of infamous, complicated monarchs. Passed the sweeping halls and the paintings of untouchable status, a special exhibit was placed at the end of the hall with cases full of crowned jewels of French royalty.

Tourists flashed photos of crowns and rings and pearls that adorned the exhibit cases. In the center of the room laid perhaps the most famous of jewels, as well as the crowns that found themselves on the heads of women who suffered terrible fates. The Hope Diamond sat in a case between crowns that once adorned it and worn by Marie Antoinette and Louis Philippe I’s controversial daughter, Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne. On loan from its final resting place at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., the diamond once found itself imbedded in each of the crowns on momentous occasions.

Crown worn by Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne and third daughter of King Louis Philippe, killed by French revolutionaries in February 1848. Crown was commissioned by the King for his daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. Was worn on the night of her death on 24th of February, 1848.

Twenty-eight. 172 years later she still remember the party, the food, the smell of the candles that burned from the chandelier and the man who caught her heart. Pretentious was the only word that came to mind when she thought of the party and the woman. At the time she felt deception too but the world has a funny way of making villains look like heroes depending on the perspective.

Clara felt the surge of memories remind her of the life she knew before the one she was in now. She didn’t know how long she had stood in front of that particular case with that particular diamond and crown but by the time her feet began to ache she knew it had been long enough. Clara also wasn’t sure how long a small English girl had been standing next to her, also staring at the silver diamond encrusted crown and the plaque underneath it.

“You know, she’s kind of a rebel and I dig it. It reminds me of Princess Margaret in a way. She was Queen Elizabeth’s sister and she partied a lot too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vivienne. She was a rebel in her own right and I admire her for it.” The woman turned, her face meeting the girl taking notes on a piece of paper. The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen and certainly had a bold personality if she was talking to someone she didn’t know.

“The revolutionaries didn’t see it that way, so why would you?”

“She was independent. I think it was progressive and cool for her not to follow the rules of her family. Not to mention the glamour in her style. She had the best dresses and crowns since well, Marie Antoinette probably.”

“That’s a little naïve, no?” The woman raised her brow at the student but the girl simply shrugged. The young one looked at the older woman and analyzed her face and features as she spoke.

“She spent the people’s money like water and saw no problem with the poverty in the streets. Vivienne was oblivious to the world around her because she lived in a world of riches with everyone at her disposal.”

“Perhaps.” The girl paused before continuing. “There’s a tv show about her on... um-I don’t remember- HBO maybe and they say she took a commoner for a lover and he sold her secrets to the revolutionaries which led to her death. Her body disappeared after the broke into the castle and people think they threw her body in the Seine.”

“I would advise you to stop watching whatever movies are giving you that perspective on the issue because it’s not true.” Clara scoffed and turned away from the girl.

The girl listened but was too entranced by the figure in front of her eyes. Brown hair, medium length, waved. She looked nice to say the least. She had on pretty clothes and may have been an employee because she knew so much but the girl wasn’t sure. All the student was certain of was that the woman standing in front of her looked very much like the Duchess in the paintings that lined the modern wing.

“You look like her.” The girl told her and she put her pencil down holding the pad of paper at her side. Before she had a chance to answer the girl, a teacher called out to the students as a signal to leave and the girl picked up her bag.

“Have a nice day.”

The girl left with the class and the woman stayed in front of the case watching them leave the room before turning back to the crown that once adorned her own head. A soft rumble came from her pocket and she pulled out the burner phone with a number she didn’t recognize but an area code she did, Goussainville.

France, safe house #4

“Hello?”

“Clara.” The Italian on the other line sounded relieved that she simply picked up the phone. Clara’s face contorted into one of worry than one of happiness she had been called.

“Nicolo, s’il tu plaît dites-moi que tout va bien?” Clara moved over to a window, away from the crowds to answer the call she had been anticipating for the last day. She dreamt of a black girl and her throat being sliced open. Waking up gasping for breath that wasn’t her own and cautious of who it might be.

“No-no. Il y en a un nouveau ... mais ce n'est pas le problème. les gens essaient de nous trouver et Dieu sait quoi.” Nicky told her and Clara felt helpless, disappointed in herself that she wasn’t there to help them. Not only was there someone new who needed guidance but the others needed her too if they were going to protect their own skin.

“Andy went to get her. We are at the safe house in Goussainville and they should be here later today. If you can make it... we really need you, Clara.” Clara sighed and looked out the window that faced the vast gardens the palace was surrounded by. Serenity before the inevitable storm.

“He’d kill me if he knew I’m telling you this but Booker needs you. It’s getting worse since the last time he saw you and I am not sure what to do.”

“That was three weeks ago, Nicky.”

“I can’t explain it... it’s just gotten worse. I know he has to help himself but he’s always a bit brighter when you’re around.”

“I can be there later tonight. What time are they getting in?”

“7.”

“I can be there at 8. I’m in France so I’ll take a train as soon as I can.”

“We will be waiting.” Nicky told her and she hung up the phone. Clara looked back at that glimmering crown and what the young girl said about the Duchess. Naïvety at its finest.

At the safe house in Gousssainville, the three immortal men unpacked the bag they brought and washed up after the ambush in Afghanistan. Nicky stood alongside the small counter space prepping dinner when Booker came to fill a cup with wine.

“Who was on the phone?” Booker asked in a low grumble and Nicky set down the knife he was using to slice tomatoes.

“It was Clara. I called her and told her we needed her here. She dreamt of the girl too.”

“And?” Booker pushed further and downed his glass in an instant upon the news.

“She could catch a train to be here at 8.”

“How did she sound?”

“Worried.”

Booker nodded and filled his glass again before going to sit in front of the tv in a chair he had designated as his own many years ago. Nicky watched as he sat, drank more and tried to remove himself from his thoughts but was too lost to do so. He was observant and cared deeply for the others in his life but there was only so much he could do for a man as stubborn as Booker.

“Hai bisogno di aiuto?” Joe called out to Nicky from everyone’s shared bedroom before also joining the two in the common space. Nicky shook his head and glanced at Booker who wasn’t looking but certainly listening.

“I called Clara. She is on her way to us now. She knows we are in trouble.” Joe smiled at Nicky and gave him a quick peck. While they were all very close, Joe and Nicky had taken Clara under their wings and helped her acclimate to the world as an immortal, especially after they found her and the two french immortals clashed. 

“It’s been too long. I miss that woman.”

“We all do.” Nicky said before returning to his meal. Without much time having gone by, the door to the cemetery sounded and Andy walked through the door with a nervous woman behind them. The girl was young, no more than 25 and had blood stained on her forehead. One hand was clutching her arm but out of nervousness not injury. Her eyes looked at the three men. Two sat staring at her in chairs and the other by the refrigerator and the only sound that played was the cheering of fans from a football match that played on the widescreen. Andy looked over her shoulder and then back again, breaking the silence to introduce the newest member of The Old Guard.  

“Everyone, this is Nile.”

--------------------------------------------

Tag List: (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next part!) 

@holychocopie 

[livesincerely]

it’s so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey’s just gotten out of class—literally just walked out the door—when his phone starts ringing.

“Davey,” Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, “can you swing by the apartment real quick?”

Davey sighs. “Are you locked out of the house again?”

There’s a guilty silence. Then, “Or maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You don’t know.”

“Tony.”

“Charlie’s the one that lost the spare,” Tony capitulates immediately, there’s an indignant “Hey!” somewhere in the background, “and I left my keys in my locker ‘cause I thought Charlie had his—”

There’s a scuffle of noise, then Charlie’s voice breaks in, “—don’t listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didn’t even check—”

“—well, I thought you had yours, didn’t I?—”

“—and he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuff—”

“—that was supposed to be a secret you little shit!”

“—you started it!”

Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them out—they’ll remember him eventually.

In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:

Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again

He’s not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.

jc again?

And you’re going to have to get a new spare made

fuck okay i’ll take care of it. are you heading over?

I’m walking there now

ur the light of my life dave

Davey can’t help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:

how did ur midterm go?

I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!

duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?

Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.

fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?

Come home on time and we’ll see.

u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol

“Davey?” The sound of Charlie’s voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he might’ve been calling Davey’s name for a while. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Davey confirms.

“So are ya comin’ or what?” Tony cuts in, ever impatient. “I’m roasting out here!”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,” Davey responds dryly, “but I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Charlie says.

“I’ll be there soon,” Davey confirms.

“Hurry, will ya? Much longer and I’m gonna get heatstroke and die,” Tony declares.

Davey rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Tony.”

00000

When he arrives at Jack’s building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roof’s overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.

"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"

“Stop losing your keys and you won’t have to wait for me,” Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. “You couldn’t get anyone to buzz you in?”

“Old Man Davis hasn’t gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,” Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, “and Mrs. Ikeda isn’t home.”

“She joined a new book club,” Tony adds. “She won’t be back till late.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask her about it when I see her next,” Davey muses.

He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief.  Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.

“I’ve got a paper due in English tomorrow,” Tony explains. “Can you look it over once it’s finished? Maybe later this evening”

“Of course,” Davey replies. “What’s it on?”

“Lord of the Flies.”

Davey’s nose wrinkles up. “Oh, I hated that one. What’s the essay prompt?”

“Identify Golding’s argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,” Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. “Then make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Good to see that high school literature classes haven’t changed much in the last few years,” he says with a sigh. “How much have you written so far?”

“Oh, I haven’t even started it yet,” Tony casually rebuts.

“Is everything going okay?” Davey asks, frowning slightly. “If things are getting worse we can make an appointment—”

But Tony waives his concerns aside. “Nah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didn’t want to write it.”

“Well, let one of us know if you start having trouble,” Davey says.

"Okay, mom,” Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. He’s already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.

Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchen—he figures there’s no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And he’s right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.

By the time Jack gets home they’re each fully entrenched in different activities: Davey’s washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jack calls jokingly as he enters. There’s a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. “Did you get the tomato—?”

“I got the tomato paste,” Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, “and I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though it’s expensive as all hell.”

“Don’t judge me,” Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. “You spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.”

“I’m just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,” Jack continues. “You can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and it’ll cut down on the grocery bill.”

“Watch it, Kelly,” Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jack’s direction. “Smartasses don’t get dinner.”

“‘s that so?” Jack asks with a grin. “Then why the hell are we still feeding Tony?”

“I heard that,” Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, you were supposed to,” Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jack’s hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, “So, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.”

Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. “You told Jack?”

“Of course he did,” Jack says. “Someone’s gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ain’t gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.”

“Charlie lost the spare,” Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while he’s not in the room to defend himself. “And I didn’t lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.”

“Uh huh, save it for the judge,” Jack responds, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Just know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, it’s coming outta your subway money.”

“Jackie, leave Tony alone,” Davey comments mildly over Tony’s spluttering protests. “He needs to work on that paper and you’re distracting him.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Tony repeats, a little smug. “You’re distracting me.”

Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.

Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know there’s no loitering in my kitchen.”

“Well, I’m nothin’ if not a law abidin’ citizen,” Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. “Where do you want me?”

Davey licks his lips. “Think you can handle browning the hamburger?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Jack responds with a smirk.

Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.

“I’ve gotta head back out this evening,” Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. “Johnson’s got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.”

“How long is the session?” Davey asks. “Here, will you open this?”

“We’re scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.” Jack’s hand brushes against the small of Davey’s back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.

“Are ya spendin’ the night or are ya headin’ back to campus?”

“Depends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,” Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. “We might be at it a while.”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Well, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.”

Davey sets down the spoon he’s holding, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jack,” he says warningly.

“Davey,” Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background there’s the faint sound of Tony muttering, “Jesus, not this again.”

“Jack, I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch.”

“Or you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,” Jack counters as he always does. “I’m not even gonna be here to use it.”

“You’ll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if you’re out late.” Davey argues. “I don’t even have class tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t take the bed I’ll just carry you in there once I get back,” Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. “So you might as well save me the trouble.”

Davey sputters. “That’s not— You can’t just— That only happened a couple of times!” he finally gets out.

"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.

“You sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it keep working?”

“No, see, that’s exactly why I should take the couch,” Davey insists. “It’s not like the sound of you coming in will wake me up—”

Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startled—he hadn’t realized they were standing so close to each other.

“Just take the bed, Davey,” Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. “Please?”

Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. “Fine,” he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. “Just this once.”

"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.

"Oh shit—!"

00000

Later that evening, after they’ve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.

Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often there’s a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraser—Davey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when he’s there next.

Davey notices the time and frowns. “Jack,” he calls out, “it’s already 7:30. If you don’t leave soon you’re gonna be late for work.”

There’s a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.

“Fuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,” Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. “Christ, has anyone seen my—”

“Your wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,” Davey says, pointing. “And take a jacket, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Great, I’m sure the models will love that,” Jack says with a groan. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.”

He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlie’s homework from over his shoulder. “If Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,” Jack tells him. “I probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.”

Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.

“Listen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,” he advises. “The only reason I got through undergraduate writing was ‘cause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.”

“I thought I was s’pposed to always listen to Davey,” Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.

Jack pauses, considering. “Yeah, just do that.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?”

“Jack, you’re gonna be late,” Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jack’s jacket for him.

“Alright, I’m going,” Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.

He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t forget to—” Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.

“Um,” says Charlie.

“Holy shit,” says Tony.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, “I u-uh— I-I d-didn’t mean—“

Davey doesn’t respond. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to—he’s frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, “gottagoseeyoulaterbye,” and bolts out the front door.

Davey’s not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.

“Davey?” Charlie asks hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes it’s coming from him.

"...What just happened?"

[colesterstrudel]

So here are my endless thoughts on SVU & OC, all under the cut bc I get rambly and incoherent lmaooooo so here goes the format is shit bc I’m on mobile but are we surprised lmao

SVU

It is a crime that we never got to see the dress Liv was wearing to her ceremony A CRIME I know it was a lewk I KNOW IT WAS

The Liv/Elliot stare down dkdkdkkdkddk pls they’re just looking at each other like they’re trying to make sure they’re both really there

The flashback to the episode where pregnant Kathy is in a car accident with Liv was a crime against me, specifically, bc how dare you make me deal with those emotions while Liv is also dealing with them with that 100 yard stare WHY

Fin’s “you’re gonna have to ask him” to Liv in the hospital 🤝 his “you’ll have to ask her that” to Elliot in the bar or whatever

The whispered convo in the corner of Liv’s office hello intimacy lmao personal space whomst Liv and Elliot don’t know her and they never have AND THEN when Elliot says “let’s work it” like they’re still partners, LIKE THEY’RE PARTNERS FOR LIFE, IF YOU WILL

Liv spent so much of their partnership pushing him to be with his family and she STILL has to do it even ten years later after he’s broken her heart she loves him so much she loves his kids she wants nothing but the best for him so she keeps pushing him to go back to his family, to visit Kathy in the hospital, but noooooooooooo hardheaded Elliot Stabler just can’t do it

“I give you my word I’ll behave” so u just gon lie like that to her FACE when you haven’t seen her IN TEN YEARS DKSKDKSKSKSKSK LYING IS GONNA BE ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS YOU DO and also when he started rolling up his sleeves??? BRAIN ROT IMMEDIATELY BRAIN EMPTY

LIV HOLDING ELLIOT BACK, HIM ALL IN HER PERSONAL SPACE, THE RAISED VOICE FOLLOWED BY THE WHISPER, THE LINGERING EYE CONTACT DKDKDKDKDKDK IF Y’ALL DON’T FUCKIN SMOOCH IN THIS BITCH

Actually okay the whole interrogation room scene bc seeing them in interrogation with each other is painful enough, but the looks Liv keeps giving him while he’s talking to the suspect dkdkkddkdkdk the last time she was in an interrogation room when she could still feel Elliot’s presence around her was when she was crying after he put in his papers YES I AM CRYING THANK U and then the suspect says “why aren’t you in the hospital with your wife” and it’s practically the same thing Liv told him but he can hear that kind of stuff from her and be okay but when anyone else is questioning his loyalty to his family it sets him off (not that she was questioning his loyalty but you get what I’m saying) and UGH the way Liv keeps an eye on him as he moves around the room to make sure he doesn’t fuckin lose it

She bumped into him on the roof ON PURPOSE she didn’t have to be that close to him there’s plenty of room on the roof for the two of them but it’s like she’s questioning if he’s really there and then you have to wonder how many conversations has she had with him mentally or in her dreams that she has to fuckin shoulder check him on the roof to ensure he’s really there, that she’s really talking to HIM

Elliot’s Catholic guilt rearing its ugly head as he caresses the head of his dying wife while he has so much he wants and needs to say to Liv.......am I overthinking this I thinketh not

KATHY NOT BELIEVING ELLIOT TELLING HER HE HASN’T SPOKEN TO LIV IN TEN YEARS AND LIV HAVING TO CONFIRM THAT IT’S TRUE I’M DKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKDKS LIV WAS THE GLUE HOLDING THAT GODDAMN FAMILY TOGETHER AND SHE COULDN’T EVEN RECEIVE THE LOVE SHE SO DESPERATELY WANTED???? NEEDED??????? FROM ELLIOT BC OF IT I’M DJDJDJSSKSKSKSK

Liv watching Elliot kiss Kathy’s forehead through the glass door of that hospital room, like she’s been forced to look in on that marriage from the outside for YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The symbolism!!!!!!!!!!!

The waiting room hospital scene yes this will be burned into my brain forever thank u. Neither of them can sit still when they’re around each other now it’s like it’s too much all at once especially Liv she keeps moving and fidgeting and when they ARE still they’re so CLOSE to each other like they can’t bear for there to be any distance, not anymore, not now

They tell each other they love each other without saying the words and it kills me every single time I can’t live like this I wish they were better at talking about their feelings

ANOTHER WHISPERED/BREATHY “ELLIOT” with that side eye YES LIV LET HIM KNOW HE FUCKED UP dkskdkdkdkdk and then she told him she LOVED HIM “you were the single most important person in my life and you just.....disappeared” god this really tears my heart out every time I think about it bc the look in her eyes just 😭😭😭

“I was afraid if I heard your voice I wouldn’t have been able to leave” GOD DID Y’ALL KNOW IT ONLY TAKES THREE WORDS EACH TO SAY I LOVE YOU DID YOU KNOW THAT DID YOU KNOW YOU COULD CONSERVE OXYGEN AND SAY ONLY THREE WORDS OBVIOUSLY NOT

Liv having to stand up for Elliot once again and defend him to people who don’t see him the way she does, the way he deserves to be seen, she’s had to do it for years when they were partners and now she’s doing it again when he’s only been back like a day and a half

I’ve already talked about the bar scene with Elliot and Fin a bajillion times but!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s just such a good fuckin scene and the emotions and the mannerisms from Elliot are just *chef’s kiss* that man loves Liv so much and he’s so upset he’s missed so much of Liv’s life ugh just thinking about his “who’s the guy?” and how he must be thinking back to “you’re the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a man” and how that may still be true but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t moved on and found someone else to take his place in her heart, in her life, to give her the child she always wanted WHEW

LIV DKDKDKDKDK “Phoebe just said I love you and you couldn’t say it back?” MA’AM YOU CAN’T EVEN TELL THE MAN YOU LOVE THAT YOU LOVE HIM PLS STOP JUDGING FIN DKDKDKDKDDKDK

Liv calling Elliot “Stabler” why does that shit hurt my heart so bad dkdkdkdkdkdks CALL HIM EL AGAIN PLS

Amanda likening her relationship with Liv to Liv’s relationship with Kathy? No ma’am. No. Somebody get the spray bottle tell her to shut the fuck up

Elliot called Liv before he called any of his kids about Kathy HE CALLED HER FIRST no I’m fine this is fine that’s just something you’d do like if you loved someone or something lmao def nothing suspicious here

I will never stop talking about that hug okay bc Elliot IS SOBBING and he nuzzles into Liv’s shoulder and she wants to keep her walls up and remain distant but her eyes close and she settles into it too god it’s such a GOOD hug you can FEEL the emotions

“I didn’t get to say goodbye” hello parallels between Elliot and his wife and Liv, the love of his life again this is fine I’m fine

Liv putting his family first and offering to call his kids for him fkdkdkdkdkks god will she ever put herself first with ANYONE or will she always put herself on the back burner can we PLEASE GET LIV SOME LASTING HAPPINESS IN THIS BITCH

Even tho Elliot said he didn’t need her to call his kids it absolutely looks like she DID get his kids and take them to him in the chapel like that’s how it comes across and idk if they did that on purpose or what but that’s what it looks like idk man it just really kills me bc she just keeps putting his family first and keep them together SHE IS THE GLUEEEEEEEEEE IN THAT FAMILY

“I can be objective” not with Elliot miss ma’am and you know that like it’s cute that you think that but 👀👀👀 we all know JUST LIKE WE ALL KNOW that technically you’re off the case but you won’t be off the case you’ll keep looking into things when you can bc that’s your partner, your Elliot, and you can’t not keep looking into it

OC

When Elliot goes downstairs at the courthouse and he starts speaking Italian to those dudes he arrested or whatever and then he starts threatening them and he does the throat slash motion as he gets taken away dkskskskskks BRAIN WORMS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why is that so HOT!!!!!!! @ myself get it together

I’ve already talked about the snow scene in the park but I am not done I will never be done bc the tension!!!!!!!!!!!! Liv won’t hold eye contact for too long and neither will he and I am DYING the small talk is so awkward and then he says “you woulda loved it” about his place in Rome meaning he was THINKING ABOUT HER WHILE HE WAS AWAY

“Elliot, I can’t” OH MY GOD DKDKDKDK and the way she looks at the letter in his hands dkdkdksksks awh hell

Liv was wearing gloves and Elliot was bare handed as they walked around the city in SVU, when she was showing him the pic of the suspect on her phone and here she is again, wearing gloves while Elliot’s hands are bare but this time she brushes her fingers over his ever so slightly while taking the letter from him. The touch is on purpose, has to be, but it’s like the rooftop scene where she bumps into him to make sure it’s really him. Not to mention the gloves vs bare hands thing - she’s erected walls up around her heart and her life and she has all these boundaries she won’t let Elliot cross, not now, maybe not ever she tells herself, and as long as she can separate even the smallest amount of her bare flesh from his she just might be able to make it through him being back in town

ELLIOT WANTED HER TO INTRODUCE HIM TO NOAH YOU CAN SEE IT god he must’ve been so torn up about it bc that’s her kid!!!!!! He’s a part of her!!!!!!!!! He wants to know everything he missed and she won’t even introduce him to her child!!!!!!!!

Angela Wheatley I’m free on Thursday if you’d like to hang out on Thursday when I am free

Liv doesn’t take her eyes off Elliot at the funeral not once NOT ONCE I know I’ve said this before but she’s really the glue that holds that goddamn family together and I am DYING

She holds it together for all the kids and Elliot but the second she walks away her face just fuckin CRUMPLES she can’t hold it together anymore especially after the way Elliot grabbed her whole ass arm to thank her for going I’m dkdkskdkdkdkd this is too much this is too much

THEY DELETED THE FUCKIN SCENE WITH THE WHOLE FAMILY IN ELLIOT’S APARTMENT??????? WHY???????? I WANTED TO OVERANALYZE IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay so I know Richard Wheatley is the bad guy but I luv him what a MAN. He really said “fuck you you racist piece of shit” and killed his own dad fkdkdkdkdkdksk okay WORK RICHARD

SERGEANT BELL I AM AVAILABLE ON THURSDAY LEMME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO HANG OUT ON THURSDAY WHEN YOU ARE FREE

Bell not taking any sorta shit from Elliot I LUV IT I LUV HER GET HIS ASS DKDKDKDKSKSKS he NEEDS people to keep his ass in line bc he doesn’t know how to act not even a lil bit

LIV READ THE LETTER!!!!!! She’s the least stand-offish she’s been to him this whole time WHAT WAS IN THAT LETTER I HAVE TO KNOW

* She knows him too well she knows he’s hiding something from her she knows he’s got something going on but he’s never been good at separating his work from his real life and that hasn’t changed, not now, not even with her and she KNOWS something’s off the way she looks at him while he’s waiting for the elevator is unreal and the lil half nod he gives her bc he KNOWS he needs to talk to her about that letter, especially when she’s WILLING TO TALK NOW but the job!!!!!! “You and the job are about the only thing I’ve got anymore” and he doesn’t even have her, not like he used to, not like he wants to, so he defaults to the job and trying to figure out who killed Kathy and who has it out for him

Okay I obvs didn’t have as much to yell about in OC as I did SVU but I’m so excited to see how OC goes bc it’s got me intrigued already like I need to know. Everything. About the Wheatleys!!!! EVERYTHING!!!!!!! And I need to see Liv and Elliot interact again pls pls I need it 😭😭😭😭😭 ANYWAYS THE END BYE

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 3

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Word Count: 2,151 (Total Word Count: 6,340) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

Lance: hes here. car just pulled into the street

Pidge: Tell him hi from us.

Lance: he doesnt know u

Pidge: So that means we can’t be friendly?

Hunk: what’s he like?

Lance: idk hes not even thru the door yet. text u back soon

Lance shut off the screen of his phone and shoved it into his pocket as he got up to bound down the staircase where he’d been perched on the top step. “Rachel!” he called as he descended. “Keith’s here!”

“You don’t need to yell,” Rachel spoke up from where she’d been lounging across the couch in the front room. She sat up, closing her laptop and setting it aside before she stretched and looked over to where Lance had landed and was now trying to peer into the driveway through the frosted-glass window of the front door. “You spotted him?”

“Yeah, he’s getting out of the car now,” Lance answered, face still pressed to the glass.

“What does he look like?”

“Blurry.”

“Should have guessed. Step back from the door, would you, Lance? You’re gonna freak him out.”

Right as she said it the doorknob began turning, and Lance jumped back, narrowly avoiding being hit in the face by the door as it swung inward to usher in his broadly smiling mother. “Lance, Rach- oh, good, you’re both here,” she said. “You two ready to say hi to your new brother? Come on in, Keith, come meet the family. Well, two of the family.”

She stepped aside to make room for the other figure walking up the front steps, and Lance got his first good look at his new brother.

The first descriptor that crossed Lance’s mind at the sight of Keith was ‘emo’, but that wasn’t quite the right fit. The pale skin and black hair looked to be their natural tones, not makeup or hair dye, and he also didn’t have any jewelry or nail polish or decals on his clothes to indicate that he may have been going for that sort of aesthetic. He just had the colors right, what with the black of his tee shirt and scuffed shoes and jeans that looked to be growing too small on him, and the red of the red zip-up sweatshirt he wore over it even in the middle of August in Arizona.

He did, though, do a great job of pulling off that distinctly emo ‘don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t look in my direction, life is pain’ scowl that he wore across his face - a face which, with its smooth features and bold indigo eyes, could have been good-looking if it weren’t for the thick brown-pink mark slicing through one of his cheeks and the surrounding mane of hair that was so uneven it looked as if it had been cut with gardening shears.

Still, Lance had seen worse, and appearances could be deceiving; this could still be a great, fun guy to have around. So he kept up his smile as he said, “I’m Lance, nice to meetcha.”

Keith nodded silently in greeting, and did the same to Rachel when she introduced herself as well, but didn’t offer his own name in return. “So, uh,” Lance said, “Mamá said that you’re going into sophomore year too, yeah? So the two of us, we’re gonna be classmates as well as brothers. That’ll - that’ll be fun.”

Again Keith was silent, just shrugging in reply, and Lance frowned and turned to his mother. “¿Puede él hablar?” he asked her. Can he talk?

“Sí,” she answered. “Y él no habla español, así que no seas grosero.” Yes, and he doesn’t speak Spanish, so don’t be rude. A glance back toward Keith confirmed this, as his eyes were narrowed and darting back and forth between the two of them, brows bunched in confusion. Lance simply clicked his tongue, settling back with hands on his hips. There was nothing rude about speaking his own language in his own home.

“Now, Keith,” his mother continued, “Do you want me to give you a tour of the house first, or do you want to start unpacking your things?”

“Um, tour’s fine,” Keith mumbled, faint but still loudly enough for Lance to finally get to hear his voice. It was low and just a little raspy, although the rasp may just have been from the low volume.

“Excellent!” his mother said. “I could have Lance or Rachel drop you duffel into your room so you - ”

“No,” Keith said sharply, pulling his bag back and moving to grip the shoulder strap with both hands.

“Suit yourself,” she said with an easy shrug, as if there was nothing even remotely unusual or suspicious about that sort of response. “We’ve got the family room here, and you’re free to use the family Netflix account on the TV as much as you want, and there’s a Nintendo Playstation hooked up to the - ”

“Those are two different things, Mamá,” Rachel interrupted. “And we have an Xbox, which is neither of those.”

“Oh, well, whatever it is, if you want to play video games, you can use that. The dining room’s this way - mind that coat rack, dear, it tips easily, I keep saying that we need to get a new one, maybe hooks on the wall instead or something, just never do get around to it - and through here is the kitchen, I’ll show you where everything goes - ”

She guided Keith through the dining room, initially trying to put a hand on his shoulder to steer him, but simply leading the way touch-free after he grimaced and shrugged the hand off of him. Lance followed, idly pulling his phone from his pocket to see a handful of new texts from Pidge and Hunk asking for more details about Keith. He shot them a quick response.

Lance: hes quiet

He watched as his mother opened and closed drawers and cupboards one after another, showing Keith where they kept the cutlery, bowls, plates, canned goods, cereal, pots and pans, instructing him on what goes where in the fridge and demonstrating which burner on the stove didn’t work, all while Keith maintained that perpetual scowl, answering only with soft grunts, before adding:

Lance: and kinda grouchy

He shut his phone’s screen off and tagged along as his mother and Keith moved on to the home office and bathroom and then downstairs to the basement, waiting until the tour had made its way to the laundry room and his mother began explaining how their washer and dryer worked before looking at Pidge and Hunk’s two very different replies.

Pidge: Of course he’s grouchy, he just discovered he’s going to be living with YOU.

Hunk: He’s probably just nervous.

Lance made a face and texted back.

Lance: im a DELIGHT to live with jsyk. & hes def giving off sort of an emo vibe

Pidge: How emo?

Lance: what do u mean

Pidge: On a scale of 1-10.

Lance: u cant quantify emo

He nearly didn’t notice the laundry crash course wrapping up and his mother and Keith heading out the door of the laundry room, so he saved the texting for later and hastened to follow as they started upstairs toward the bedroom.

His mother didn’t give a thorough tour of the rooms, to Lance’s relief, just quick peeks inside and naming which room belonged to whom. “Excuse the mess,” she said when she opened Lance’s door. “I swear, mijo, you have more clothes on your floor than you wear in a year.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, his mother had once seen Pidge’s room when the Holts had had the McClains over for dinner; she should have forfeited all rights to complain about messes on that fateful night.

“And here’s your bedroom, Keith,” his mother said, reaching the door at the end of the hall and opening it to reveal the skeleton of Luis and Marco’s former room, now empty with bare surfaces on the dresser and desk and bookshelf from their long lack of occupancy. “Once you’re settled in we can do a bit of decorating to help it feel more homey, if you’d like. I mentioned that shopping trip we could take sometime soon, get some new things for you?” She glanced toward Keith’s duffel bag before asking, “Does this room work all right for you? You need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Keith said softly.

“That’s good, that’s good. Well, now that you’ve got the lay of the land, I’m going to get dinner started up. Veronica should be coming home any minute, and Manuel will definitely be home for dinner, so I’ll make sure they stop and stay hello when they show up. Lance, be a lamb and help Keith get his stuff unpacked and in their places, would you?”

“Sure, Mamá,” Lance replied as his mother sidled out the room. “There more bags in the car for me to bring in, or - ?”

“No, just the one.” Lance raised a brow, about to ask why Keith would need help unpacking just one bag, but his mother leaned in to whisper, “Talk to him, okay? Just make him feel welcome.”

That made more sense. Lance eased his way into the room as his mother left. Keith had already set his bag onto the bed and was removing a little stack of shirts from it. “You, uh, need any help with that?” Lance asked.

Keith scowled over at him. Which was fair; that stack of shirts probably weighed two pounds at most. “Ah, I just meant, you know where that stuff goes?”

“... The dresser?”

“Yeah. You - you got this, sorry.” Lance rocked on his heels as Keith moved toward the dresser, the latter still eyeing him cautiously. “So, uh,” Lance tried again, “Where you from?”

“Around,” Keith answered with a shrug.

Right. Foster kid. Probably moved around a lot. He was on a roll with stupid questions. “Well, uh, where are you from, like, most recently? Before here?”

Keith paused, frozen halfway through setting his clothes down in a dresser drawer, and it was several seconds before he quietly answered, “Holbrook.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it,” Lance said. “You like it there?”

This time Keith didn’t answer at all, instead simply slamming the dresser drawer shut and moving back to his bag. He fished into it and pulled out a toothbrush and comb. “Where’s the bathroom again?” he asked.

“Second door on the left,” Lance answered, and Keith turned to leave the room without so much as glancing at Lance.

Lance simply rolled his eyes and strolled over to the bed, where he sat and glance into the open duffle bag. He nudged a gray sweatshirt aside to see a number of balled-up pairs of socks and boxers, a faded stuffed hippopotamus, and a few CDs in cases scattered across the bottom of the bag. He tilted his head to look at the titles. John Mellencamp, The Clash, Blue Cheer, a Chuck Barry CD with a spiderweb of cracks across the plastic case. Lance picked up ‘Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits’, examining the remains of the garage sale sticker still covering the singer’s face. “So you’re into the old-timey, rock, huh? Funny, I would have pegged you more for MCR or Linkin Park or - ”

He hadn’t noticed Keith’s footsteps thundering down the hall until the other boy was already in the room, practically shoving Lance off the bed and yanking the bag back toward him. “Hey!” Lance yelped, grabbing onto the bedpost to keep from slipping onto the floor.

“Why were you going through my stuff?” Keith snarled, pulling the bag back further.

“Wha- I dunno, I was just, you know, seeing if you had, like - like, any interests or anything, that’s all. Calm down, man.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, because Keith’s glare just darkened further. “Don’t touch my stuff,” he growled.

“I’m sorry. Is it, uh, is it because of the hippo? You don’t have to be embarrassed, I sleep with a stuffed animal too, lots of people do.”

Keith huffed and turned away from him. “I can unpack by myself. You can leave.”

“Are you… are you sure you don’t wanna, like, hang out, chat a bit?”

The scowl that Keith leveled in his direction was as firm a ‘no’ as humanly possible. So Lance sheepishly straightened up and headed out of the room, Keith shutting the door firmly behind him.

With a sigh, Lance pulled his phone back out, turning the screen on to see that Pidge had proposed an essay’s worth of criteria to quantify emo onto a ten-point scale. Ignoring that for now, Lance started to text.

Lance: hey hunk remember when u said keith was gonna be a cool friendly guy who will love hanging out with me?

Hunk: yeah? why?

Lance: guess what, im starting to think u were wrong

[evolsinner]

⊱┊2

after eating as much of the heavily processed food that i could, i crawled into bed. why does he have to leave me in the time that i crave him the most? it's impossible to sleep without his warmth next to me...which leads me to phone my best friend on the burner.

"happy brithdaaaay!" larissa squeals. "did you guys have birthday sex?! actually, wait, no, don't answer that! what'd he get~"

"shhh!" i whisper, giggling. "quiet down, 'rissa."

"right, right, i'm sorry. i have my bedroom door shut and the folks are asleep so don't worry too much," she assures me. "hehe, missed you, best friend."

"missed you too. maxi, alright?"

"he's great! always comes over and plays lego with me and~" she pauses to clear her throat before starting again. "anyways, what did he say this time? am i allowed to visit?!"

i sigh like a deflated balloon, "i'm sorry, larissa."

"what? c'mon! you said we'd get to meet on your birthday!"

"there's still too much buzz out there. has my mom and dad backed down yet?"

"what do you think?"

i roll my eyes, irritated.

my parents didn't take it so well when the news broke out. they thought i was some reckless, disobedient, stupid little girl. as if i care what they think anymore.

i tried to explain it to them in so many ways, so many times ~ via proxies, via payphones, but they won't listen to anything or anyone. they just don't want me spending my life with someone that i barely know. hence, they're doing everything in their power to try and get me away from him.

so far, it ain't working.

"your father hired someone else today," larissa informs me.

i chuckle, "yeah, whatever," dismissing the subtle fear laced in her tone.

"no, rosé, i heard this person is quite good at what they do. i'm worried about you."

"you don't have to be. i've survived this far, haven't i?"

"but 'isaac', do you...do you really trust him?"

"okay, larissa, you're def crossing the line with that one.”

"babe, i didn't mean any offense, i was~"

"listen, i gotta go," i intercept downheartedly. "just tell maxi i love him." with that, i hang up and toss the phone somewhere on the bed.

-ˋˏ ༻🥂༺ ˎˊ-

12 am showers. after shaving my whole body, i place the razor in the soap holder and lather myself up with a body lotion that sorta smells like expensive cologne.

the vapour fills the hotel’s entire swanky bathroom. it's like i'm showering high up in the clouds. weirdly enough, some of the mist scatters away from my lovely cloud nine environment which causes me to shiver like a ghost has gone through me.

"what the hell?" i confusingly rub my eyes to get a clearer view of what's happening. then i realise that the shower screen has opened and a figure is nearing me. oh...my...word...

a body sculptured by the god's steps inside. with his marble eyes glued on me, he reaches his arm back and shuts the glass after himself. i can't help but stare idiotically, practically gaping. i miss him every time he leaves and i get nervous every time he's near me? what is wrong with me?

isaac places one hand on the curve of my waist, and with the other, he cups my cheek, bringing my quivering lips closer to his. "i'll have someone arrange for your friend to come over by the end of this week," he whispers. "that sound okay to you?"

my eyes smile to his response. "thank you."

"no problem."

no problem? no problem?! how can he make a goddamn 'no problem' sound so sexy?! it's gotta be the voice. yep, that's gotta be it. 100%.

he steps forward and i step back so that my spine eventually rests against the glacial porcelain surface behind me. i gently place my pruney palms on his ripped torso to warm myself up twice as fast. his sugary sweet lips brush along my neck, drinking the shower water from my supraclavicular fossa and moving on to suck on a new space of skin every 2 seconds.

i am so in love, drunk off him. dazed, in a haze. "i..need you..now.." i moan.

he continues to mark multiple territories on the canvas of my almost mauve painted neck, him bursting away all of the small superficial blood vessels under my skin.

"please, isaac."

i keep leaning forward, but he keeps pushing me backward, demanding that i go at his pace ~ at his very slow as fuck taunting pace. i get agitated and give up, stepping towards the transparent exit. if he wants to play, then he can play by himself.

he grips my wrist, "rosé."

he's always playing these dumb as hell games with me when he so clearly knows how desperate i am for him! today i'm just choosing not to embarrass myself any further. i don't need no dick. so, bye, isaac, and good luck dealing with that erection on your own. should be fun. should be funny too.

"i'm done showering, sir."

he despises it when i call him 'sir' which is why it's the perfect moment to make use of it, though it doesn't work for some reason. i can tell from that subtle grin forming on his face.

"says who?" he flicks an eyebrow up.

i roll my eyes, "fuck you," and turn to leave.

he straight away hauls me back and pins my pale body up against the tiles. "don't you dare use that tone with me, luv!" he growls and i can't tell if he's actually mad.

one hand of his chokes me and another is directing his member into a concave of lava. he thinks he has the upper hand by choking me like that... he dives inside of me and sets me ablaze. i whimper from the aggressive force of it all. he grunts with each thrust and loses the capacity to take his time.

"i could fuck you forever, rosé, is that what you want?"

i nod frantically.

"slow or fast?" he asks.

"fast."

he drives me to the pinnacle of my climax, my muscles tensing up. his groans, they are harmonic to my ears, and my moans, melodic to his. he pounds into me.

"do not cum yet," he warns.

"i think..i'm.."

"hold it fucking in, luv, or i swear i'll be very disappointed with you."

i grip onto both sides of whatever that's next to me. please can nothing break this time? and, hopefully, we don’t get another noise complaint. my wet core throbs for a wetter release. it doesn't help that sir's grunts also aids in my suffering. i like the sound of his hoarse voice like that.

"c~can i now?"

"not until i say so, now shut the fuck up because you're getting me crossed."

"isaac, i need to!"

unexpectedly, he pulls out and steps back.

"sir?" like a broken little girl, i lift my hand up to his huge muscular bicep.

he smirks and turns away from me like he's getting ready to leave.

"isaac, please! you can't do this!"

"watch me."

i stifle a groan and instead, i bring my hand down, rubbing my button in a circular motion. soft moans escape from my mouth as i try desperately to get myself over the edge.

"the fuck?!" isaac spins back around. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

i ignore him.

he snatches my hand away and holds it upright. "you cannot touch what does not belong to you, little girl."

"yes, i can!"

"you can, huh?"

"none of me belongs to you!" i try to get a reaction out of him. "none, of, me. do you get it?"

he glares at me sexily before pushing me right back onto the tiles and my body makes a wet smacking sound. he plunges into me, so deep and so fast. he pulls out of me, then back in, out, in, out and in so many times, i lose count.

"ahh, sir, it hurts!"

"who do you belong to?!"

"you! you! to you!"

"good girl.”

i internally feel myself implode all over his veiny dick, witnessing streams of transparent liquid pouring out of me. in a flash, isaac pulls out in time to empty out his load all over my thick thighs. i catch my breath before looking up into his marble eyes, its long wet eyelashes sparkling above them.

"now you're done showering, sweetheart."

[eorumverba]

Hi! I'd like to say I admire your writing and cherish your fics! I do have another intention with this ask that is maybe an advice? If you are willing or could help me with such issue. I have you as a reference on online plus long-distance relationships and seeing you so happy with your partners I'm so tempted to ask how do you guys do it! My attempts were failed with hurtful outcomes, I give my all and I'm met with disinterest after a while. Please, help me, what should I do! Is it my fault?

first of all, thank  u sm for reading and enjoying my writing !!! for ur Main question tho ive asked each of my partners to share their advice as well so youll def get a lot of different advice !! the main thing that we emphasized though is communication and that may seem…cliche or whatever but it really Really is that important, esp with an online/ldr relationship

from me: honestly…it’s not always happy. we get into arguments just as much as any other relationship, and it’s probably even more difficult since there’s four of us, all around the country and in different timezones. it’s kind of hard getting all of us together at one time with all of that - and then we all have classes and work and lives as well - so most of our time spent together is through group chats and phone calls and texts. we can’t go on Actual dates but something that me and kendra do every month close to our anniversary is order the same food and watch movies together on skype just so that we can be together. sometimes when sarah and i skype we don’t even talk? we’ll write our separate fics and use each other for help but it’s sometimes mostly silence. i’ll call them when i’m walking home alone late at night and we’ll fall asleep on the phone together or take naps on skype together. but again it’s not always happy..this weekend was a Big low for kendra, sarah and i emotionally, and even earlier today sarah and i got into an argument. and even that’s just..calming down and spending time apart so more hurtful things aren’t said. communication, time together and time apart is that much more important and essential for us, being poly, online and long distance.

as for the disinterest…i get like that sometimes? i fall in and out of love Very quickly sometimes so i Get what you’re going through but just…it’s very much not your fault. i don’t really know What it exactly is but…sometimes relationships aren’t meant to last forever

from winnie: okay First off it’s not your fault, and youve just gotta Communicate if theres any problems or whatever. and people being disinterested after a while def isnt Your fault or anything and its not good to blame yourself in that circumstance

from sarah: i mean…. my experience hasn’t always been great either but like,,,, honestly it’s the same as in-person relationships? they’re not Always gonna work out, and it’s not always anyone’s fault. i think the big thing is acknowledging that there are going to be different ways of communicating – you can’t always read body language, etc – but that makes clear and accurate communication even more important, so you should just make sure you’re making things open and clear.

and i guess also just being able to… not necessarily find time, but like also just Have Time together? Maybe not constantly, but when you’re so far apart distance-wise it’s not like coming back together at the end of the day, easy. You have to make sure that you’re reaching out, and also they have to make an effort to reach out as well. You have to make sure the other person knows they’re loved nd make sure that you can like…. actually have quality time together. Even if you’re busy, a couple texts here and there. Which i guess goes with communication, but also just having time to “be with” your partner is important. Because when you’re so far apart and living different lives, it’s easier to like… feel like you were put on the back burner, even if that’s not necessarily true,,so communication and making time for your partner, and just letting them know you care.

from kendra: well the key is communication like you can be aint shit in person and maybe make it work but talking constantly and consistently is key. be unafraid to ask for clarifications in messages like a argument can start from a text if u dont know the tone. also you cant hide your emotions from your partner bc they cant see you! be more open! express yourself! you just have to be a bit more clear if you’re upset so they other person can know. dont make shit harder than it has to be

[jacobhinkley]

Bitcoin Stickers Attract Unwanted Attention from Authorities

Bitcoin, while becoming more widely known and a little better understood among the general public, is still considered suspicious among rank and file security folk such as customs and airport agents. Security expert Matt Mitchell warns enthusiasts might want to cover up when it comes to stickers and other social advertisements announcing their crypto love.

Also read: Report: 15,000 Twitter Crypto Scam Giveaway Bots

Bitcoin Stickers Might Get You Heat

“Conferences, border crossing, airports, public places,” Tactical Tech’s director of digital safety, Matt Mitchell explained to Motherboard, “stickers will/can get you targeted for opposition research, industrial espionage, legal or investigative scrutiny.”

Enthusiastic Bitcoiners who travel know this all too well, and it has been going on for years in various forms. Indeed, back in 2014, well known ecosystem personality Davi Barker of Bitcoin Not Bombs, had a bizarre encounter with TSA agents in the United States. As luck would have it, he was wearing a Bitcoin Not Bombs hoodie, and also had merchandise related to crypto and various libertarian causes (he was on his way to a conference as an exhibitor).

After a very thorough pat down inspection and all his belongings rifled through, he was approached again but this time away from the TSA proper, and just before boarding his flight. Official looking people cornered him, and someone in an orange shirt began asking where he was headed and why. After giving these airport people vague answers, one of them suddenly asks, “‘What about Bitcoin?’ I was flabbergasted. This was above and beyond any scrutiny I had ever received from the TSA, and a little frightening that they were looking for Bitcoin. I said I didn’t understand the question. He continued, ‘We saw Bitcoin in your bag and need to check.’ I was incredulous, and asked, ‘Do you have a superior officer because I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.’ The blue shirt replied by repeating that they were ‘managers,’ but if I didn’t answer his questions he could call law enforcement and have me taken into custody. I asked, ‘Aren’t you law enforcement?’ and he replied, ‘No we’re with the TSA.’” Mr. Barker then asked, “‘What did the Bitcoin look like?’”

A traveling companion then explained to the agent bitcoin is not a physical thing. The agent wasn’t buying it for whatever reason, and the line of questioning went into whether Mr. Barker had more than $10,000 in bitcoin on him. Mr. Barker tried to explain that that is not how this works, and after a while the agents seemed to give up. Mr. Barker believes because he was not flying internationally is what ultimately saved him from even more scrutiny. However, he did contend, “If I wasn’t wearing the hoodie it probably wouldn’t have happened. “

Keep a Low Profile

Ask anyone in the space, and they’ll recall instances where they’ve been pulled aside, stared at, and not always in a bad way. Wearing cool shirts, having stickers on your stuff, is a great way to evangelize. People want to know about cryptocurrency, and so these little advertisements become conversation starters.

When travelling, however, “a laptop lid full of stickers also arguably provides something of a red flag to authorities or hackers who may want to access sensitive information stored on that computer, or otherwise cause the owner hassle,” Motherboard cautions. Veterans carefully pack away their affiliations in such instances or at the very most take ‘burner’ phones and cheaper devices with less information on them. This way, if for some reason they are confiscated, copied, compromised, the loss isn’t significant.

On a flight headed for a DEF CON, Mr. Mitchell noticed a media organization sticker, “This person had a Chromebook, I guess as a travel laptop. But it had a media sticker on it.” Even that, he seemed to imply was too much information, and could be an enticing target for someone looking to make trouble. “Buy an outer case and sticker that shit up. Keep it at home when you travel or swap with a clean outer case. It’s ok to be yourself and have fun,” Mr. Mitchell reminded Motherboard. “Support your favorite nonprofits, open source projects, and surveillance circumvention tech. But nothing comes at no cost or risk.”

And maybe it’s not always a bad thing to broadcast your geek. Tor’s Moritz Bartl recalled how everything in his vehicle was stolen, raided. The only thing remaining when all was said and done was his very stickered laptop. “Police assumed it was [left behind] because it is hard to resell,” Mr. Bartl tweeted.

Do you broadcast your enthusiasm for crypto? Let us know in the comments section below. 

Images via Pixabay.

Be sure to check out the podcast, Blockchain 2025; latest episode here. Want to create your own secure cold storage paper wallet? Check our tools section.

The post Bitcoin Stickers Attract Unwanted Attention from Authorities appeared first on Bitcoin News.

Bitcoin Stickers Attract Unwanted Attention from Authorities published first on https://medium.com/@smartoptions

[bowsetter]

Bitcoin Stickers Attract Unwanted Attention from Authorities

Bitcoin, while becoming more widely known and a little better understood among the general public, is still considered suspicious among rank and file security folk such as customs and airport agents. Security expert Matt Mitchell warns enthusiasts might want to cover up when it comes to stickers and other social advertisements announcing their crypto love.

Also read: Report: 15,000 Twitter Crypto Scam Giveaway Bots

Bitcoin Stickers Might Get You Heat

“Conferences, border crossing, airports, public places,” Tactical Tech’s director of digital safety, Matt Mitchell explained to Motherboard, “stickers will/can get you targeted for opposition research, industrial espionage, legal or investigative scrutiny.”

Enthusiastic Bitcoiners who travel know this all too well, and it has been going on for years in various forms. Indeed, back in 2014, well known ecosystem personality Davi Barker of Bitcoin Not Bombs, had a bizarre encounter with TSA agents in the United States. As luck would have it, he was wearing a Bitcoin Not Bombs hoodie, and also had merchandise related to crypto and various libertarian causes (he was on his way to a conference as an exhibitor).

After a very thorough pat down inspection and all his belongings rifled through, he was approached again but this time away from the TSA proper, and just before boarding his flight. Official looking people cornered him, and someone in an orange shirt began asking where he was headed and why. After giving these airport people vague answers, one of them suddenly asks, “‘What about Bitcoin?’ I was flabbergasted. This was above and beyond any scrutiny I had ever received from the TSA, and a little frightening that they were looking for Bitcoin. I said I didn’t understand the question. He continued, ‘We saw Bitcoin in your bag and need to check.’ I was incredulous, and asked, ‘Do you have a superior officer because I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.’ The blue shirt replied by repeating that they were ‘managers,’ but if I didn’t answer his questions he could call law enforcement and have me taken into custody. I asked, ‘Aren’t you law enforcement?’ and he replied, ‘No we’re with the TSA.’” Mr. Barker then asked, “‘What did the Bitcoin look like?’”

A traveling companion then explained to the agent bitcoin is not a physical thing. The agent wasn’t buying it for whatever reason, and the line of questioning went into whether Mr. Barker had more than $10,000 in bitcoin on him. Mr. Barker tried to explain that that is not how this works, and after a while the agents seemed to give up. Mr. Barker believes because he was not flying internationally is what ultimately saved him from even more scrutiny. However, he did contend, “If I wasn’t wearing the hoodie it probably wouldn’t have happened. “

Keep a Low Profile

Ask anyone in the space, and they’ll recall instances where they’ve been pulled aside, stared at, and not always in a bad way. Wearing cool shirts, having stickers on your stuff, is a great way to evangelize. People want to know about cryptocurrency, and so these little advertisements become conversation starters.

When travelling, however, “a laptop lid full of stickers also arguably provides something of a red flag to authorities or hackers who may want to access sensitive information stored on that computer, or otherwise cause the owner hassle,” Motherboard cautions. Veterans carefully pack away their affiliations in such instances or at the very most take ‘burner’ phones and cheaper devices with less information on them. This way, if for some reason they are confiscated, copied, compromised, the loss isn’t significant.

On a flight headed for a DEF CON, Mr. Mitchell noticed a media organization sticker, “This person had a Chromebook, I guess as a travel laptop. But it had a media sticker on it.” Even that, he seemed to imply was too much information, and could be an enticing target for someone looking to make trouble. “Buy an outer case and sticker that shit up. Keep it at home when you travel or swap with a clean outer case. It’s ok to be yourself and have fun,” Mr. Mitchell reminded Motherboard. “Support your favorite nonprofits, open source projects, and surveillance circumvention tech. But nothing comes at no cost or risk.”

And maybe it’s not always a bad thing to broadcast your geek. Tor’s Moritz Bartl recalled how everything in his vehicle was stolen, raided. The only thing remaining when all was said and done was his very stickered laptop. “Police assumed it was [left behind] because it is hard to resell,” Mr. Bartl tweeted.

Do you broadcast your enthusiasm for crypto? Let us know in the comments section below. 

Images via Pixabay.

Be sure to check out the podcast, Blockchain 2025; latest episode here. Want to create your own secure cold storage paper wallet? Check our tools section.

The post Bitcoin Stickers Attract Unwanted Attention from Authorities appeared first on Bitcoin News.

READ MORE http://bit.ly/2wdusgl

[mmjjbbaannkkss]

2019 December 9-14 Half-week Notes, Vitamin-B

“Let reality be reality.” - Lao Tzu

Finally started B-complex after waking up too early, made me sleep again. I only took niacin during workouts and with fatty foods, but B-comp is for all food types. It’s a vitamin that vegans might be lacking, research implies in mornings B absorbs better, explaining why an empty stomach mid-workout started flushing niacin into circulation. Pre workout powders and drinks for years, like most ppl, but even then not in high levels, and B-comp has a safer level. 

Niacin opens capillaries, causing itching as some even burst, causing heat and metabolism also, but even before my new health-focused life, there were intense moments, hiking or fighting, work or play, leaving mature muscle with more vascular density, vessel amount, and fewer capillary requirements. So wouldn’t itch/flush as much, and larger still, and BMI higher means no capillaries in the fat, so only flushing around the thin skin. 

B vitamins assist energy for cellular or hormonal purposes. Consult a doctor, I’m no doctor. This is my personal diet, grains and greens, work and whey, meat and mattress, that’s my grind. I’m also assuming soy sauce phytoestrogens break down quicker than meat’s estrogen, allegedly block meat-estrogen in the process, and supplies in theory a ‘pre-digested’ protein/amino source. The lower sodium version is literally called “liquid aminos,” and with B my energy is good. 

Don’t eat fiber b4 a workout, it needs water just to digest, and then sits waterlogged until it does, protein bars are high fiber. B might, metabolize sugar faster than you can use it in a session, turning fuel into adipose fat. Implying, meat might make donuts MORE dangerous -- and yet gamer fuel has B plus SUGAR, 30 grams of sugar is heavy like a donut. 

Stomach digests junk food with natural enzymes, not vitamins/minerals, fats and meats burn slower overnight, waking less hungry, unhealthy fat in the blood has to be removed thru filter organs or used as energy, B-something helps with fat-to-energy and is naturally occurring in meats, match that-B to the meat with the highest level, and it calculates artificially leaner, and you might be energized by morning. Or, eat less and less-of unhealthy fats so your blood is purer. 

Superhero blood, not bacon-wrapped donut blood. B is NEVER an alternative to real food, but in a zombie apocalypse, the soy sauce aisle will be empty and you can watch the landscape. 

Do if you do. Don't if you don't.

Week 1 (mixed: heavy-slow, lite-slow) Gauge weight/ability, practice strong reps, try resting between each rep if too heavy. 

2019 Dec 09 Monday

Truck engine won’t fire-up, if only spark plugs, cabling, is a minor issue aside from costs, keeping me from the gym today. The little truck, aka the pickup, battery dead, prolly bad rear brakes, maybe bad transmission. Will likely be w/o gym whole week. 

Already carbed up for workout tho, so to balance, am going to eat eggs and one tortilla, with liquid aminos. Using the breakfast carbs as biotic thermo-catalyst-conducive energy to metabolize the protein (into aminos), and later take a B-supp to improve fat catabolic ‘uptake’ to clean the blood for tomorrow, whichever should happen. And tea/whey. 

Not feeling inspired to do a calisthenic chest day in the bedroom, tomorrow will do taiji, defs walk probz to the bank, talk to the neighborhood mechanic about estimates, and start saving up some poor people money. It’s like regular money, it just hasn’t sprouted yet. 

Likely, the home workout program will develop, replace the laziness, nbd; and should start posting my / ‘the poor people diet’ b/c a clean body and strong mind can do anything. If the inmates can have Instagram broadcasts on burner phones, I can add a menu. 

Moving XVIII-1 to next week, might take a stroll. #Feels If both trucks are fucked, so am I, and mom’s lavish diet will consist of anything I can buy at neighborhood general store and drive-share. // Might anotate something on the walk. Anchor? 

2019 Dec 10 Tuesday

Breakfast, salsa black beans and rice, lunch, ½ tea/whey, dinner, 6 eggs w liq aminos on wheat-ish tortilla, meal4 ½ tea/whey and niacin 500, meal 5?

Lazy day, rearranged room, have a desk at the window, conceptual free top space, put strange files into portfolio, shoes into tiny shoe armoir (bedstand?), and have all shelves emptied, then have a change-of-clothes bag, which should really be in the car. Truck blogs say sparkplug changes are circling $200, which is doable. Weird time to be between gigs holidays w/o backstory. Do the job, check with mgmt, do more, go home, do wtfe. Be early, leave when told. Have 2x20lb plastic sand jugs, maybe some shrugs/rows. 

Not overly heavy weight, quality reps, flex, arms perpendicular to ground (elbows back), pre-fatigue (warm-ups for each exercise), underhand (supine) triceps pulldown prevents leaning when working on triceps,  https://www.menshealth.com/fitness/a30170272/the-rock-biceps-triceps-workout/ 

5x5 program, do the exercises, add weight per week if you could do lift last week’s, every six weeks deload, https://www.boxrox.com/how-to-build-muscle-and-strength-the-5-x-5-program-gain/

8 core exercises for abs/obliques, L-sit, frong-crunch, bycycle crunch, running man situp (alt hand oppo leg), rev crunch pulse (lock legs, push heels up), russian twist (it was the borscht), plank, t-cross situp (lay out, v up, left hand right foot) https://www.boxrox.com/8-sit-up-abs-exercises-to-build-a-6-pack-and-strong-obliques-cf/

I want to do cable punches more. 

2 dudes vs the FBI fitness test, 20 pullups @ pace, 30 pushups or more @ pace, 38 situps (1min), 300m sprint (41sec=Ace), 1.5 mile run (9min=Ace) https://www.menshealth.com/fitness/a30183134/fbi-fitness-test-bodybuilders-buff-dudes/

2019 Dec 11 Wednesday

Give yourself permission to not be a perfectionist, if it doesn't go well that's okay. Don’t be busy, be productive. Tow truck towed truck, without me, witf. 

2019 Dec 12 Thursday

Truck will be ready today/tomorrow. Battery jumper arrived. Might gym, might not. Will have another carb-up next, and if no gym, whey for the night. Body replaces cells. Everybody goes thru it, and rebuilds. Muscles break down, and then we repair. If you’re not losing your mind, crazy, everyone once in a while, then nothing is changing. This could be comfort. We all have insecurities, we need to be honest about them so that we can better ourselves. It’s time to stretch-out, warm-up, work-on. 

Truck is fixed, let’s go to the gym. 

#4xviii Lite Push tot/lb x ct heavyweight/slow/r3*8(1s/r)

Treadmill 10 >> Shldr Press 507090 >> Cable lat-rear raise 5,5,1010 >> Chest press 8090110130150 >> Pec deck 8s*709090110110 >> Incl smith 100*3 >> Arnld press 3*r8/25 3035404550 >> Cable x-over 15202530 >> Supine tric pldwn 202030 >> Tric pldwn 304050 >> Pullover/down 304050 >> Triceps press 30507090/110130150170190/210/230(240lbs) >> /Abs/Treadmill /

Need more lateral delt practice; posture bad, need stretching; much hurt, very pain, a lot good.

#5xviii Slow/lite Pull  /lbs

Treadmill warmup 11 >> High Row 3x6r /25303550658095 >> Lat Pulldown 3x 6 /45607590 >> 15 of those >> Chin Up neutral 3x 6 /666- >> Smith shrug 3*6/100100100100 >> Low Row 3x 8 /25303550658095100 >> Pec Deck 3x 8 /100*3 forearms >> EZ Curl 3x 10 /supine 20*4 >> ½ Prchr 3x 10 /15*3,30*3 >> ½ hammer 3x 10 /152025 >> Rev-row 4x 10 /40506070- >> ½ lat? 40,55,70 >> Treadmill cooldown /null

Left elbow lat pulldown not far back enough in single sided, need to do all ½; outer lower pecs still sore from yesterday’s tricep press, sit in a chair, push the arms down, sorta like dips; /rest/ lats were tight, from laying around in a bad posture, and hadn’t used foam roller, but doing the ½ pulls brought the back triangle farther down, trained weak spot, made waking up better, laying on concrete should straighten posture, with some stretching, and might improve hunch while opening obliques. 

#6xviii Lite Legs  3x8r/lbs

Treadmill 10 >> Side Bends 3*8r/35*3 >> Body Squat 20,40,60(smith) >> ½ Horiz Press (½ rep) me+10*3 >> Horiz Leg Press 103050 >> L/R Leg Ext 10*3~ >> L/R Leg Curl 30*3~ >> Heel Raise 305070- >> Leg Curl LR 888 >> Push Crunch 405060 >> Lift Crunch /null >> Treadmill cooldown /stairs high knee 15 >> Treadmill cooldown 

Workout; regards of leg extension, could use volume/reps, but partly not lifting hard, not to hurt, but am not pissing myself off, eventually unrealized mad goals where volume sets no adversity, is distance training do; don't skip leg day for a month; indirect object is absurd; front lats little raw; 

I mine is patience. 

[apairofcrepeswiththerarestape]

Summer is here my epals so you know that means, time to get that swimsuit body ready, at least that's what the dude who hosts the 9 minute power plank workout video I do once every two weeks tells me. I, however, am ignoring him as well as the very young in shape person who once told me that "you make abs in the gym but keep them in the kitchen" while I was eating a bagel by continuing this project during which I've already consumed one entire cow's lifetime butter output so far. Also I think six pack abs are not possible for my old broken body, even if I work out all the time I feel like I'd top out at Jack Palance with his shirt off. As a sop towards health I did decide to make fish this week, so that is something, right? Fish is healthy, right? It feels healthier I guess? You never see a fat fish (yes I did just do a google image search to verify this and it seems like there are a lot of fat goldfish but that's really more about their owners), I mean whales are pretty tubby but they're not actually fish. The fish section of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child is mostly like lobster and scallops and whatnot but there are a few like real fish recipes in there and that's how I got to this week's dish Thon a la Provencale aka Tuna or Swordfish with Wine, Tomatoes, and Herbs aka Tuna Provencal aka Tuna from Provence!

Despite the name of this dish having the word tuna in its french iteration, Julia Child gave me the option of using swordfish and I like swordfish so I decided as I was going to the fancy supermarket to get fish I would use swordfish. This was a good decision because swordfish was on sale at the fancy supermarket, though it didn't totally matter because even with the sale SWORDFISH IS DANG EXPENSIVE! I mean the tuna was even more expensive but still I needed to buy 3 pounds of fish meat so perhaps there was no fish available that would not have put a dent in my pocketbook (though this is my fault for buying a very dentable pocketbook, look the guy at the store said tin was the "metal of the future" how was I supposed to know he was putting one over on me? I know I shouldn't have let my subscription to Metal Fancy expire last year but you know those weekly issues were just piling up on my nightstand and besides everyone a Metal Fancy tote now anyway!). Luckily the other components to this thing were not too expensive: a pound of tomatoes, a yellow onion, and some tomato paste. I stuffed it all in my backpack and went home to cook this expensive fish in a way that hopefully wouldn't ruin it and send me into a guilt spiral about spending so much and money and how wasteful I am that ends with me googling which kind of burlap sack I should wear all the time.

  Before I got to even the first cooking of all these things (of course this was another classic Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child cook a bunch of stuff once and then cook it all again which is my life now! Whenever I'm done doing whatever the heck this thing is I'm going to buy a slow cooker and throw things in there for like a month) I had to marinate my swordfish. I got out a knife, removed the skin, and cut my 3 pounds of swordfish into pieces that could fit into the marinating vessel. That marinating vessel was a glass baking dish that I had put 1 tablespoon of salt, 2 tablespoons of lemon juice, 6 tablespoons of olive oil and 1/8 teaspoon of pepper into. I then put my very reasonably sized pieces of swordfish in there, basted them with all that mess, covered the whole thing in wax paper and placed it gently in the fridge for about 1 hour and 45 minutes. I periodically (every 20 minutes or so) basted and turned the fish which was equal parts gross and fun depending on how much I thought about raw fish sitting in a pool of liquid that had a real alien embryonic hue to it. After my glee/horror basting cycle was over I took my large fish bits out of the alien baby juice and dried it with paper towels, then it was finally time to cook things.

To start I had to peel and juice my pound of tomatoes and for the first time it felt more like a chore than anything else. I think about halfway through the pound I stopped having fun and starting worrying that I might be peeling these tomatoes forever. Maybe the joy or removing the skin from a thing has left me? I certainly hope so, it was starting to get a little weird. Then I had to brown my marinated fish in 3 tablespoons of olive oil for a "minute or two" on each side and it smelled great. I set the fish aside again and threw the onion, which I had minced previously, in the skillet for 5 minutes then added the tomatoes, 2 cloves of mashed garlic, 1/2 teaspoon of oregano, 1/4 teaspoon each of thyme and pepper, and a few of cranks of a pepper mill. This all continued to smell very good. I put the fish and then the tomatoes into my appropriate for both the stove top and oven baking dish which is a product that was harder to find than I thought it would be. I covered it all with aluminum foil, turned on the burners, got it simmering, and then it was oven time.

Now y'all regular readers know about our oven temperature issues, I did not know we had them until I finally bought an in oven thermometer and then a very much knew that we had very big oven temperature problems. This recipe called for a little bit of oven temperature fiddling that was not going to happen. I placed my covered in foil simmering fish and tomatoes mess into a very accurately pre heated to 350 degree oven and that was fine. After 15 minutes I poured in a cup of dry white wine and was then instructed by Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child to turn the oven down to 325 once the fish was simmering, this was not going to happen. Even if I could've determined when the fish was simmering in a closed oven there was no way I could adjust my janky old oven to 325, the knob is as accurate as of my estimation that a photo taken by the self facing camera on my phone will be flattering. I turned the knob down to a point where I guessed it would keep things around 325 for the last half hour of cooking and prevent this fish from visiting gastrointestinal horror on me or my guests. After that half hour I removed my swordfish hunks and cooked down all the vegetal matter and its corresponding juices till there was about a 2 cups of stuff in the baking dish (this was, as always, a totally wild guess) then I stirred in 2 tablespoons of tomato paste. Unforch, tomato paste comes in cans that are much larger than two tablespoons so now we have this very sad half can of tomato paste covered in foil in our fridge where it will live until we finally decide to throw it away, which I hope does not end up being metaphor for the end of my life. I stirred in the paste and let that simmer for one moment, which was the exact direction in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, do not ask me how long a moment is. I took it off of the heat and beat in a paste of 1 tablespoon flour and, of course, 1 tablespoon butter and finally 3 tablespoons of chopped parsley which I think is there to make you feel better about the butter. I spooned some of the sauce over the fish and then we all ate it.

This dish was very very good, the swordfish was slightly drier that I would've liked but there was ample amounts of sauce to mitigate it. The slight dryness also ameliorated any of my oven temperature based poisoning fears so that was nice. No one else really mentioned the slight dryness but I'm sure they were just being polite or it's possible that I'm overly critical of a thing that tasted very good, who knows what's happening in this nutso brain of mine! It also felt like it was not super bad for me which is a nice change of pace with this book! I would def make this again after I've saved up enough money for 3 pounds of swordfish or tuna from the fancy supermarket and you should too! Make Thon a la Provencale aka Tuna or Swordfish with Wine, Tomatoes, and Herbs aka Tuna Provencal aka Tuna from Provence! Enjoy Thon a la Provencale aka Tuna or Swordfish with Wine, Tomatoes, and Herbs aka Tuna Provencal aka Tuna from Provence! Show off your Thon a la Provencale aka Tuna or Swordfish with Wine, Tomatoes, and Herbs aka Tuna Provencal aka Tuna from Provence to friends! See you next week! #tdandjulia #thonalaprovencale #tunaorswordfishwithwinetomatoesandherbs #tunaprovencal #tunafromprovance #shirtlessjackpalance #fatfish #cookeverythingtwice #marinateeverythingonce #metaphorfortheendtimes #expensivefish