#The Story of the Kelly Gang

[bobcatmoran]

Apparently you can watch what's still extant of the world's first feature-length film, "The Story of the Kelly Gang" made in Australia in 1906, on YouTube. It's a stitched-together amalgam of the surviving footage and intertitles, publicity shots, the program booklet (which was A Thing at the time), newspaper photos, and intertitles added to fill in what's missing. Originally, the film was about an hour long, and about 15 minutes of film have been saved from various sources, including a segment that was literally found in the trash.

For the standards of the time, it's a very exciting film! Some badass women, outlaws fighting The Law, and a storyline so scandalous (glorifying criminals! How dare!) that it was banned in parts of Australia upon release.

Unfortunately, due to it being a 117 year old film, some of the surviving filmstock has deteriorated heavily and the segments from 24:23-26:39, 29:00-29:45 and 30:05-the end are not gonna be good times to watch if you have visual sensitivities to flicker. Almost all of the film save the very edges is heavily decayed in those sections, which is a shame since it's kind of the climax of the film. They even got actual armor from the Ned Kelly gang for the actor to wear in the last bit, since the events the film is based upon were only 20-odd years in the past when it was made. OTOH, at least we have that much, which is, again, impressive for a film this age, especially one that was made about a topic that was Unacceptable by certain parts of society at the time.

[lifewithaview]

The Story of the Kelly Gang (1906)

The Story of the Kelly Gang, directed by Charles Tait in 1906, is the first full-length narrative feature film produced anywhere in the world. Only fragments of the original production of more than one hour are known to exist and are preserved at the National Film and Sound Archive, Canberra. The original poster and publicity booklet provide confirmation of those fragments’ authenticity and together this material represents the unique and irreplacable beginning of feature film culture.

The original film was over an hour at a time when films rarely exceeded few minutes. Only fragments of the original production of more than one hour are known to exist and are preserved at the National Film and Sound Archive The restoration is now 32 minutes long. Considered as one of the first feature film in history.

Stars : Elizabeth Tait - John Tait - Nicholas Brierley

[chrliekclly]

[this-boys]

George MacKay attends the dunhill & BSBP pre-BAFTA filmmakers dinner & party at Bourdon House on February 15, 2023 in London, England.

[sunnytastic]

charlie would like percy jackson

a dyslexic kid from the city who doesn't know his father and goes on magical adventures to save the world? right up charlie's alley

[wareham-community-television]

Start the week with a fun fact!

Over an hour originally, under 20 minutes of the film survive today, 117 years later.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Two

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he continues to pry.  Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 9.7k A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter, I truly wasn’t expecting it. I apologize for the wait, but hopefully the length will make up for it!  Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, themes of stalking, cursing, mentions of terminal and life-threatening illnesses, and combative fluff :)

The ceremony was wonderful if not a little long winded but you hardly cared as you stood with the rest of the crowd to cheer as Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson presented the Daggers, officially a squadron of Lieutenant Commanders. You caught Rooster’s eye, having watched Captain Mitchell pin the leaves to his uniform, and saw that he still had tears lining his lower lashes. You winked at him, earning a small smile and a bit of pink in his cheeks. You were so proud.

“I’m so happy for him!” Came a warbled voice and you held the phone in your hand a little higher. This wasn’t exactly how you thought you’d meet Jake’s family (not that you had ever given it much thought, really) but when he’d explained that his family couldn’t make it out to the ceremony for one reason or another, you had volunteered to make sure their FaceTime was at the right angle so they could see everything. There were four of them all crammed together—his mother, Sandra, and three sisters, Mia, Kelly, and Alex—staring at what you assumed was an iPad with how Sandra was holding it; blonde heads swiveling together to track Jake’s movements on the stage had been quite the spectacle but when you had glanced up to see Jake looking at you with the biggest, brightest smile you had ever seen it had nearly made you drop the phone.

Embarrassing.

As the ceremony wrapped up and the crowd started to disperse, you lingered near your chair and watched as everyone else reunited with the family that came to watch the ceremony, shook hands with the brass, or hurried off to the Hard Deck to celebrate because Captain Mitchell had, unsurprisingly, sweet talked Penny into letting them take over (again). You waved Tasha on when she went to wait for you and she frowned but did eventually leave, looping her arm through her older sister’s before disappearing out into the parking lot.

“Is my son making you wait?”

You glanced down at the phone with a smile. “He’s schmoozing with some of the big wigs. I’m in no rush to go anywhere.”

Sandra hummed, green eyes narrowing behind her glasses as she paused. It was almost comical how much the expression reminded you of Jake when he was thinking of something. “Well, sugar, I hate to ask this, but could you remind me of your name?”

You gave it readily but added, “most call me Punch.”

Mia once again appeared on screen, leaning down with a matching squint. “Punch?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story but-”

“Oh, we’ve heard of you.”

That had your brow pinching and you fought the urge to bring the phone closer to your face as if that would help you decipher the look on Jake’s sister’s face. All you managed to say was, “oh?”

A smile started to stretch across Mia’s face. “Don’t worry. All good things.”

The phone was snatched out of your hands before you could ask just what the hell that meant and you turned to see Jake smiling at his family on the little screen. “Hi, mama.”

“Jacob Seresin!” Sandra started. “Did you make Punch wait when she was doing you a favor?”

If possible, Jake’s smile widened and his sea glass gaze shifted to you. “Already ganging up on me with my mom?”

“Your family is a delight,” you drawled. “You must be adopted.”

There was an answering laugh that had Jake’s cheeks turning a light shade of pink before he nudged at your arm with the flat of his palm. “Get out of here.”

“It was nice to meet you, Sandra!” You hollered, already turned toward the door.

Sandra’s laugh rang out again and you walked out to the car, thankful to see a few small groups of people still milling about in the warm San Diego sun. You were quick to get into your car and lock the door behind you before curling your hands over the steering wheel. Your next breath was a slow, stuttering sigh. It had only been four days since you had seen him in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

Lurking.

Smirking.

And it had been four days since you felt like you could actually breathe. A familiar pressure on your chest had been your constant companion. You knew it was part of your anxiety, a physical manifestation of your fear. You were still on that metaphorical cliff, waiting to fall. You leaned back against the seat and tried to drag in another breath but it was like your lungs couldn’t expand. Pressing your hands over your stomach you tried again and again and again until the ache lessened enough for you to continue to pretend.

Pretend to be normal.

Pretend to be okay.

You’d nearly blown it when Jake had walked you out of the Hard Deck. But maybe he just thought you really wanted to get away from him and brushed it off, thinking you were in a mood. He had only texted to make sure you made it home okay and you’d spent the rest of the night on the couch with a baseball bat clutched in a shaking grip. But you had continued on. Going to work. Putting on a smile and a brave face. Keeping your mouth shut. It was better this way.

With another stilted breath, you grabbed your bag from your backseat and changed out of your uniform and into the dress you’d picked for the night before driving off base. The Hard Deck’s parking lot was already starting to reach capacity so you took the first space you could find and smoothed out your dress as your car beeped, letting you know the doors were locked. The inside of the naval bar was just as busy as the parking lot and you dodged an elbow of someone playing darts not two steps in. Weaving through the crowd, you waved at a few familiar faces—mostly other ADs grouped near one of the windows—and waited to finally make it up to the bar. Jimmy and Penny were both fixing drinks and a few other employees were picking up empty glasses left abandoned on high tops and booths. It might be a minute.

“Hey.”

You looked to the side with a smile and pulled Bob into a hug which he quickly reciprocated. “Hey yourself, Lieutenant Commander Floyd.”

Bob’s cheeks flushed a tiny bit and he adjusted his grip on the hat beneath his arm as you stepped back. “You’ve got to meet my brother before he flies out.”

“Of course. But first, let me buy you a drink.” And as he opened his mouth to protest, you shook your head. “You wouldn’t let me do anything else so I’m buying you a drink.” Bob sighed but dutifully followed you up to the bar and let you pay for his ginger ale but grumbled when you insisted on buying his brother’s drink, too. You also had Penny put together a round for the Daggers you knew would be circling the pool tables soon enough. Bob helped you carry everything toward the table where his brother was waiting. You’d ‘met’ Bob’s brother, Harrison, a few times when you accidentally barged in on Bob FaceTiming his family but it was nice to finally meet him in person. He was just as charming as Bob but had a few more extroverted tendencies and regaled you with stories about the year he took off before medical school to ‘visit’ Bob who was stationed in Hawaii and spent the entire time learning to surf and trying to teach Bob, too.

“I never quite got the hang of it,” Bob admitted, still sipping on his ginger ale.

“You tried your best!” Harrison said with a kind smile. But soon his phone was beeping and he grimaced before standing from the table. “All right. I’ve gotta catch my flight back to New York.”

“Let me know when you land,” Bob murmured as he stood and wrapped him in a hug.

You might have heard a muffled ‘of course,’ before they separated but you definitely heard Harrison say, “I’m so proud of you.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder again before turning to you with a smile and he surprised you with a quick kiss to the cheek. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

“That’s mostly Phoenix,” you said with a smile.

But Harrison shook his head. “I’m sure it is a team effort. Now, keep in touch, okay?” And then he breezed away, disappearing into the crowd and probably into a waiting taxi outside.

You spoke for a little longer, mostly about the ceremony and how Cyclone actually seemed like a human instead of a robot the last handful of days but Admiral Cain still seemed like a douchebag of the highest order. By now the rest of the Daggers had arrived, to much fanfare in the bar, and would sometimes filter by the table to grab a beer and chat for a bit—Natasha’s sister was a riot and had Tasha’s blushing a surprising shade of scarlet after telling you and Bob a particularly embarrassing story about “baby Tash” trying to jump off the roof with a bedsheet cape before she, too, had to leave to catch a flight back home. And you almost hated that you knew the exact moment Jake entered the bar, like you couldn’t help but turn toward him whenever he appeared, like a sunflower facing the sun. Again…embarrassing. However, you noticed Bob kept looking at the group of women circled around one of the high tops and you nudged his shoulder with your own. “Don’t,” he muttered.

“What?” You asked, fighting a smile.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He took another sip of his ginger ale and shook his head. “It isn’t happening.”

“And why not? You deserve someone nice. They look nice…for the most part,” you added with a scrunch of your nose. “Maybe the blonde in the red dress looks a bit mean, but the rest of them look nice. Want me to go over there and test the waters? I can see which ones would be down to handle that sword-”

“Punch!” It was honestly impressive how quickly Bob’s face went a violent shade of scarlet and he nearly dropped his pop.

“You got a sword with your promotion. I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I am a lady, Bobert.”

He snorted and knuckled at his glasses to push them up again. “Sure. Sure you are, Punch.”

Then you laughed. You laughed and that weight in your chest cracked and fizzled out. For now, you could breathe again. Bob eventually got you up and away from the table with the promise to take it easy on you with a game of pool—he lied. The WSO absolutely demolished you in an embarrassingly quick game.

“That was brutal,” Tasha said as she grabbed a beer.

“It was.” You handed her the cue with a wince. “But, to make it up to me, Bob now has to let me test the waters with the ladies he’s been eyeing all night.”

Tasha glanced over at the group when you tilted your head in their direction and hummed. “Not the blonde in the red dress. She looks mean.”

Bob just groaned. “Please keep the sword innuendos to a minimum.”

“Why? You need someone who knows how to handle that ceremonial saber-”

The sound of someone choking on their beer had you all turning to see Jake wiping at his face. Tasha, smirking, smacked him on the back a few times to ‘help.’ He nudged her away with a halfhearted scowl as he licked the last few drops from his lips. “Jesus.”

“What?”

Jake’s smirk vanished but you could tell he was fighting to keep it down as his brows furrowed in an echo of a certain Admiral’s disappointed frown. “So crass-”

“Oh, blow me, Ken. It isn’t like you don’t have a list of sword-related pickup lines or nicknames at the ready.”

Tasha laughed into her beer and you felt a little zing of pride—you always did when you made her laugh.

“You did call that one barracks bunny a sword swallower,” Rooster said, cutting into conversation with ease. And it was then that the party really seemed to start and you let Tasha pull you into a game of darts (you lost) before you did actually try to get a read on the group of women and deciding that, actually, they all seemed a little mean and they were more interested in Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson anyway, if their drunken whispers were anything to go by.

You’d find a lady for Bob. One day.

After watching Bradley and Tasha beat Billy and Neil at pool and finally finishing your drink, you remembered Sarah’s invitation and stepped to Bradley’s side again as he went to grab another beer from the table. As soon as you were within reach, he slung an arm over your shoulders and hauled you closer. “You doing okay?” He asked, voice low.

You sagged in his grip, a reaction you couldn’t fight. He made you feel safe. He always did. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

You winced at the tone. He had an innate way of knowing you were feeling off. And you hadn’t been exactly subtle in how you were acting lately. But you didn’t want to put more on Bradley’s plate, not now. Not when he was high on the new hardware on his collar. “Yeah,” you said, trying to sound convincing before changing the subject. “Sarah’s throwing an engagement party for Junior. She said I could bring someone and I thought you’d like to go? I know it’s been a minute since you’ve seen them all.”

Bradley set down his beer with a nod, licking the droplets from his lips. “When is it?”

“Friday.” And your heart plummeted as Bradley’s face crumpled and his arm slipped from your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Punch, but I promised Mav I’d help him haul in a part for his plane—we’re leaving at like five in the morning on Saturday.”

You nodded as you pinched your lower lip between your fingers until Bradley swatted it away with a knowing look. “I can ask Bob-”

“Bob and Phoenix have been asked to speak in Annapolis this weekend.”

Fuck. Fuck! You knew that. How could you forget? He’d been so excited when he got the call to lead a few classes back at his alma mater. “This is fine. I can just go by my-”

“I’ll go with you.”

**

Jake heard something in your neck pop with how quickly you turned your head to look at him. “What?”

And Jake almost recoiled at the amount of shock in your tone. “I mean, if you need someone to go with you.” Then, when neither you or Bradley said anything, Jake was about to retract his offer, already feeling stupid for opening his mouth in the first place. Usually he’d be more conscious to not let anyone know he was eavesdropping but the four beers he’d had probably loosened his tongue and he’d pounced at the opportunity to take you anywhere before he could stop himself with thoughts of repercussions. “I-”

“You’d do that?” And Jake hated how small your voice was, barely heard over the noise of the bar.

“Yeah. ‘Course.” And your smile was near blinding, twisting at something Jake didn’t want to acknowledge behind his ribs.

He listened intently to what the party was about—engagement for your not-actual-little brother, and when you’d pick him up—“I’m driving, you’re going to have to deal with it,” and what was expected—“just have a good time. And sign the card I’m buying, you can take half the credit for the gift I’m bringing, too.”

It sounded like it could be a good time. But if you smiled at him like that again, he’d probably agree to anything. You also told Jake to be ready by 18:20 next Friday so you’d be on time for the party and then Jake tried to ignore how that familiar feeling came roaring back in the confines of his chest as he watched you walk back toward the bar.

A hand clapping on his shoulder pulled Jake from admiring how your hips swayed with each step and he turned to see Rooster still standing beside him. His hazel eyes went from Jake to you and then back to Jake. “Let’s have a chat, Bagman.”

Fuck.

**

By the time you swiped a bit of tinted balm over your lips, you’d told yourself sixteen times that you were making a mistake but, “it would be fine.” You checked your watch and nodded: you were still on time. Early, actually. Jake would meet you at the Hard Deck and then you’d drive you both over to the Kazansky home to save room on the driveway—knowing Sarah, she’d probably invited half the people in her contacts and would still consider it a small party.

And you were contemplating texting Jake and telling him to forget it and that you’d go by yourself. It was too risky. Too intimate. Accepting his offer to go with you had been stupid. And choosing a dress that you knew made your tits look good because you’d caught Jake looking at you the last time you wore a dress like this was also very, very stupid. But when your phone chirped and Jake’s text lit up the screen—“Ready when you are, Punch!”—you knew it was too late.

And really…didn’t you deserve to have a good night?

He had robbed you of enough, hadn’t he? You could have one night. And there was a small bit of you that hoped he was satisfied with just scaring you once.

When you pulled into the Hard Deck’s parking lot, you were barely stopped before the passenger side door opened and Jake slid in with a bright smile and filled your car with the scent of his cologne—leather and oak moss and something distinctly Jake. “Ready?”

“Do you usually hurl yourself into moving vehicles or is that a recent addition to your lengthy list of ways you are a man-child?”

Jake’s smile widened. “You keeping lists about me?”

You resisted the urge to smack his arm and scowled instead as you reached into the backseat to grab the card you’d picked and made sure to hit him in the chest with it and the pen you wrestled from the bottom of your purse. “Sign that.”

Jake clicked the pen several times as he read over the mushy words Hallmark had written for a recently engaged couple and you drummed your fingers against the steering wheel as you slowed to a stop at a red light. If he said anything about the paragraph you wrote you might just-

“This is a nice card.” He then signed his name with a flourish and tucked it into the envelope. “What gift did you get them?”

“We got them an engagement photo shoot with a photographer who I may or may not have bombarded with emails and bribed after realizing Taylor follows her on instagram.” Were you proud of that? Not really. But you had felt extraordinarily bad after realizing that Junior had texted you after he proposed and you hadn’t responded until two weeks later. You knew he’d say there was nothing to apologize for but you still felt the need to make up for it.

“No, Punch,” he started. “My mama told me to never take credit for something I didn’t do. That gift is from you. I got them this.” He held up a bottle of champagne that you knew cost a few hundred dollars with a little silver bow taped to the neck. How you managed to miss that when he basically threw himself into your car, you’d never know (you were probably distracted by the way his thighs flexed beneath his nice trousers).

But it didn’t matter. You sealed the card after slipping the photographer’s business card inside. “It would’ve been fine, you know. But I’m sure they’ll love the champagne, too.”

Jake’s chest puffed a bit at that and you tried to not look too much at the tan skin that was revealed with the movement nor the silver links of his dog tags you knew were hiding beneath his obscenely tight shirt. You failed. And when he caught you looking, his smirk returned.

You couldn’t have that. “Careful, Ken. If you pop a button I’ll have to drop you on the nearest street corner.”

And then the asshole actually unbuttoned the next button. “I like to think I’d be a high-end escort. Like for senators.”

The answering laugh punched out of you before you could even pretend to not find him funny.

The rest of the drive was spent slapping his hand away from the radio when he said your taste in music was terrible—even when you caught him singing along with Stevie on your preferred classic rock station. It was good and easy and you almost hated it by the time you parked outside Sarah’s house, managing to snag a place beside the mailbox.

Jake was at your side before you reached the front door and knocked his foot into yours when you sucked in a breath before knocking at the front door. Yeah. Coming with him was a mistake. A beautiful, terrible mistake.

**

Jake had never been to the Kazansky home. On the ride over, you gave him a rundown on who he needed to know—Missus Kazansky, Junior and his fiancée Taylor, and younger sister Lily—and how to behave. It was mostly good natured ribbing and an actual threat to push him out a window if he hit on Lily.

“Okay, no Lily, but Missus Kazansky is free game?” That quip had earned him a glare so intense he would swear he saw his life flash before his eyes.

Worth it.

After all, it wasn’t all that often that Jake got to see you like this. Sure, he saw you in uniform on base and you had the innate ability to have a spare change of clothes wherever you went so you were never in uniform when you didn’t need to be so he got to see you in civvies often. But that was usually jeans and t-shirts. Maybe that one pair of shorts he thought about when he couldn’t sleep, if he was lucky.

But right now you were in another dress and he could see the thighs that he definitely didn’t dream about peeking out from the skirt as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. You were…

He couldn’t say gorgeous.

He couldn’t say beautiful.

He couldn’t say stunning.

So, you were special. And right now, as you waited at his side for the door to open, he could smell your perfume. Gardenias and sunshine.

His grandmother had special flower beds just for her gardenias—she once said that the soil in southern Texas was too acidic for her favorite flower but she was determined to have them near the ranch and had planter boxes filled with specialty soil and heaps of the flowers. All of his favorite memories of home were filled with the scent of the small white blooms.

And then there was you. You smelled like home.

The door opened and a petite blonde smiled at you before wrapping you in a quick hug. “Oh, sweetheart, you know you don’t need to knock.”

“Old habits,” you murmured as you returned the hug. When you stepped back, you gestured to Jake. “This is Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin. He’s part of the Dagger Squadron with Bradley. Jake, this is Sarah Kazansky.”

After shaking her hand and murmuring his thanks for letting him tag along, Jake stood a little straighter as Missus Kazansky’s eyes looked him over. “You’re Hangman, aren’t you? I’ve heard of you from Pete.” Then, without giving any indication as to what that meant, she waved you in and Jake followed suit. The inside of the large house was filled with people with champagne flutes in their hands as soft pop ballads from decades ago filtered through a hidden sound system, crooning about love.

You complimented Sarah on the tasteful decorations and earned yourself a motherly pat to your cheek before she called out for someone. There was an answering squeal and you shoved the card in your hand to Jake just in time to brace as a younger woman wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!”

You laughed and returned the hug before holding her at arm's length with a smile. “Pasadena looks good on you! And you’re so close to graduating!”

This must be Lily, then. Jake watched you talk with her for a moment, seeing you smile as you traded a few short stories and Lily tugged at the skirt of your dress with a mischievous look in her eye. “You’ve gotta tell me where you bought this. You’re a bombshell.”

You waved away the compliment—as Jake knew you often did—and rattled off some store name as Lily shook her head.

“No, no. Take the compliment. You look gorgeous.” Then Lily’s sharp eyes moved to Jake. Jesus Christ. She was Ice Man’s daughter—that look was cold and calculating. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

And Jake’s mouth opened-

“Lily, c’mon. Stop it.” Your voice was nearly a whine. “This is Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin. He is one of the Daggers with me at Top Gun. Jake, this is Lily Kazansky. She’s about to graduate from Cal Tech with her degree in Engineering and applied science.”

A matching smile pushed at Lily’s mouth as her eyes raked over him. While Jake usually preened over such an obvious once-over, there was absolutely nothing wanting in her gaze. And maybe having you standing beside him helped…but he wasn’t going to address that. “Hangman. Yeah. I’ve heard of you.” Then Lily’s gaze flickered to you. “Enjoy the party. I think Mom needs my help in the kitchen.” And then she flounced away as you sighed.

“She’s…”

“Don’t say it,” you griped, pulling the envelope out of his grasp again.

“I was going to say intense.”

You nodded as you gnawed on your bottom lip before grabbing the champagne Jake was still holding and setting it on the gift table behind you. “She’s all Tom. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s running the Pacific Fleet by the time she’s forty.” But you waved that away, too, and tugged at his arm, leading him toward the exorbitant spread of finger foods on another table a few paces away. You snagged him a flute of champagne as you handed him a plate and then Jake let you wrangle you both onto a pair of the few remaining empty seats near the kitchen bar.

“Not going to mingle?”

“God, no. I hate mingling. You are free to go off and schmooze, if you want. There are a few people here you may know—probably shook hands with them at your ceremony.” You waved your flute toward a group of middle aged men near the fireplace and, yes, Jake knew them. All of them were upper echelons of the Navy brass and had congratulated him on the promotion. “I won’t hold your seat though.”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “I think I’m good right where I am, Punch. But thank you.” He glanced over at the men to see them already looking in your direction. They each raised their highball glasses with practiced smiles which you and Jake reciprocated with a tip of your champagne flutes. “You sure you don’t want to talk to them?”

You shrugged as you turned back to your food, plucking a small cube of cheese from the assortment and eating it quickly. “If I wanted to talk to them, I could’ve done it at barbecues or one of Sarah’s soirées that she liked to host. I just…don’t care enough. I climbed up the ranks by accident mostly. I like where I am.”

Jake frowned at that. “What do you mean?” You were headstrong and tenacious. Not having drive or ambition just didn’t line up with what he knew about you, with how you presented yourself.

You popped a cherry tomato into your mouth and chewed and swallowed before answering, almost like you were stalling for time. “I’m not a lifer like you, Jake. I didn’t dream of joining the navy as a kid or anything like that. You probably had a vision board or something, right? Asked for model planes since you could talk. You look the type. Probably ate some of the pieces, too.”

But Jake didn’t take the bait and he’d never admit that he did swallow lego when he was seven. “Then why did you enlist? You could go anywhere.”

You were quiet again and that familiar twist in his chest returned as your lips pushed up in a small smile. Then your eyes searched his face, visibly debating something, and you must have found what you were looking for because you nodded, just once, unknowingly twisting the knife you didn’t know you held. “You caught me in a good mood. I’ll tell you. No one will believe you, but I’ll tell you.”

He resisted the urge to grab at your hand and just hold it as he said, “try me.”

“Sparknotes version?”

Jake wanted to know everything. Wanted to ask you to tell him every little detail so he could know you better than anyone else. But he could wait. Maybe. “Sure.”

“My little brother, Danny, got sick his first year of high school. Really sick. Expensive sick. I was in my last year of school and had the choice to either go to university or find a job that could help with the bills.” Your next breath had your shoulders sagging. “The Navy was the only recruitment office that wasn’t on lunch when I walked in. Four days after graduating high school, I was shipping off for training. Then I was volunteering for any deployment that my commanding officers even hinted at because I knew that deployment meant more pay. So, I was accidentally a decorated AD because I was desperate.”

Jake felt you jump when his hand landed on yours as it rested on the table beside him but you didn’t pull away so he selfishly curled his fingers over your wrist, content to feel the warmth you exuded. He remembered the photo on your desk and the soft look you’d been giving him—that was your baby brother. “Is he-”

“Oh, he’s fine now. Finishing up his doctorate at MIT.” Another smile pushed at your lips as you shook your head before your other hand settled over Jake’s. “Healthy as can be. Lily actually reminds me a lot of Danny. Both of them hated their English classes in high school. They’d prefer to have a root canal than write a book report. I probably did too much to actually have them learn anything about The Catcher in the Rye or Persuasion, but I just wanted to see them succeed.”

Jake’s heart leapt when he felt your thumb sweep over his knuckles as you kept looking out over the crowd. It was just a little touch. A little brush of your skin on his. And it was…special.

But as soon as it started, it stopped as you pulled your hands away from him and waved at someone in the crowd. “There’s the couple of the hour.”

Jake turned to see a younger blond guy with his arm wrapped around a smiling brunette. She’d reached up to tangle her fingers with his, showing off the massive rock on her finger. They must be Junior and Taylor—the pair certainly had that look about them that all newly engaged couples had. Well, almost all couples. Jake knew some weren’t so fortunate.

You hopped off the seat and dragged Junior and Taylor into quick hugs as Jake followed suit and stood, shaking both their hands as you introduced him. You oohed and ahhhed over the engagement ring and poked at Junior’s cheek when he blushed as Taylor recounted the story of the proposal. You handed over the card and Jake saw you curl your hands into fists behind your back as Junior opened it almost immediately.

Just as she finished reading, Taylor all but launched herself at you and Jake had to keep you upright by catching you at the hips when you started to teeter backward. And, only for a moment, Jake thought about doing this with you all the time. Thought about showing you off at parties, watching you smile, keeping you upright with a laugh on your tongue. The invisible knife twisted again as Junior caught his eye and arched a brow after glancing at his hands on your hips.

“Oh! I can’t believe it! This is so kind!” Taylor turned to Junior with a beaming smile, waving the business card like a flag, and explained that she actually followed the photographer on Instagram and loved her work, just as you’d said in the car.

Jake felt you relax in his grip at that, a relief to know your gift was well received. “I’ve made a list of all the weekends she has available for the next six weeks. She said you two would have first dibs—you just need to call her and tell her what date and time works for you.” You’d off-handedly mentioned that both Taylor and Junior were in the middle of their medical school residencies and were rarely free for more than a few hours at a time every other week.

You spoke a little longer and Jake earned a bright smile from Taylor when he said that she and Junior would probably be the photographer’s most liked post on her page—he also earned an elbow to the gut from you, too. Jake didn’t care, not when he heard you laugh.

“But we’ll let you get back to your other guests. Thanks for letting me hold you up for a little.”

Junior frowned and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You’re never holding us up.”

“You’re always welcome,” Taylor said with another brilliant smile.

You nodded with a matching smile and mentioned that Jake had brought a bottle of champagne and Junior was the one to smile this time. “That’s my favorite bottle, man, thanks!”

Then you spun in Jake’s hold and all but shoved him backward toward your abandoned seats and the smile you gave him had his entire chest aching. “They’re so happy. Don’t they look happy?”

And he had to smile, too. “They do, Punch.”

But your eyes tracked to something over his shoulder and Jake turned to see you looking at that same group of men from earlier and you rolled your spine, straightening your posture. “I’m going to introduce you.”

“I thought you said you didn’t talk to them.”

“I don’t. Not as Naval officers, anyway. They think I’m like a very distantly related and adopted niece or something. They know me but don’t…know me, you know?”

Jake resisted the urge to roll his eyes but simply said, “no.”

“Doesn’t matter. C’mon, let me get you promoted again.” You were then a flurry of demure smiles and careful introductions that seemed to instantly endear you to the group of brass and Jake was readily folded into their conversations as you slipped away from his side with a wink and a mouthed “you owe me!” after being talked over twice—maybe they really didn’t have any clue that you were in the Navy as well. It almost made Jake want to excuse himself, too. But he knew you’d probably chew him out for that. Rooster’s ‘talk’ from the other night on the Hard Deck came ringing through his mind: “There’s another reason we call her punch. She can roll with the punches. But that doesn’t mean she should have to. If she comes to me on Monday and says anything about you ruining her night, I’ll shoot you out of the sky.”

You knew that officer promotions were always a game of politics and who you know so getting Jake on a friendly basis with men like this was invaluable. So, yes, Jake did owe you. But he was having a hard time fully investing in the ham-handed conversations and when he was halfheartedly listening to Rear Admiral Cunningham speak about his latest secretary snafu, Jake caught you moving through the crowd with Lily hot on your heels and a laugh on your tongue. He could hear it over the din of the party and he felt himself smiling despite knowing he shouldn’t in the present company. You and Lily were soon joined by Sarah and three of you danced around a little, sipping on canned sparkling waters. When Taylor and Junior joined in the impromptu dance party, he could hear your excited laughter.

Jake remembered that you sat with the Kazansky family during the funeral, holding Lily’s hand as she sobbed. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now he could see it. You were one of them, unofficially of course. An older sister to the kids. Another daughter to Sarah and Admiral Kazansky, if he was willing to bet.

You were special.

**

The party had continued on. The dancing you and Lily had started had somehow sprouted to most of Junior and Taylor’s friends and the living room had transformed into a dance floor. You noticed Jake stepped out onto the back porch with the group of brass and tried to tell yourself that the pride you felt was purely coincidental. That you would have introduced any of the Daggers to them and wished them the best. Really. The warmth you felt wasn’t anything other than friendly. Really. But by 10, the party was wrapping up—Lily needed to drive back to Pasadena and Junior was murmuring with a few of his friends about an “after party”—and you’d started helping Sarah clean up as people filtered out. The kids had each given you a squeeze before leaving and promised to text you when they got home.

As you tugged a trash bag around the living room and tossed the paper plates into it, you glanced up to see Jake taking a handful of half-filled champagne flutes into the kitchen. The few sentences you’d exchanged with Missus Seresin during the promotion ceremony did give you a bit of insight into Jake’s upbringing—you could see a little Jake helping in the kitchen, being told how to properly wash pans and how to keep an eye on a boiling pot under the watchful eye of his mother or older sisters.

But you weren’t supposed be thinking about that and shook it away with a grimace as you yawned. You grabbed another stack of discarded plates and pushed them into the bag with a little more force than what was necessary as Jake circled back into the living room.

Sarah stepped to your side with a tired smile of her own. “You can stay here, sweetheart. We still have your room upstairs.” She then turned to Jake with a smile. “The bed is big enough.”

You choked on your next breath and Jake patted your back as he fought a smile. “We-” you wheezed the word.

“We’re not together, but you’re kind to offer.”

Pink flooded Sarah’s cheeks and she pressed a hand over her mouth for a moment. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought…” She waved it away. “Either way, both of you are welcome to stay the night.”

“I think we’re actually going to head out as soon as everything’s cleaned up. Thank you again for inviting me and letting me bring a friend along.”

Sarah hummed as she tried to nudge the couch back into its usual position and watched as Jake quickly took over the task without issue before once again starting to grab the remaining flutes left by the window sill and take them to the kitchen—you heard him carefully putting them into the dishwasher. “Yes, a friend.”

Embarrassment burned and clawed at your throat and you turned away to see if there were any other plates for you to throw away. “Barely a friend.”

“Sure, sweetheart. I definitely can see where I got confused with the way you were smiling at him and the way he looks at you like you hung the stars. My mistake.”

“He doesn’t.” The words were barely more than squeaks. “And…and I don’t smile at him like anything.”

Sarah hummed, again. “Whatever you say.”

You tried not to think about Sarah’s words as you settled back into your car a few minutes later. Jake let out a sigh as he buckled in and you tried to ignore how his cologne once again filled the small space. And it was so strange that your body seemed to seize and relax at the same time because of it. Like you were fighting two separate and equal instincts.

“Thanks for coming tonight. I hope you had fun,” you said as you pulled away from the curb, waving at Sarah through the windshield.

“They certainly know how to throw a party.”

“This was tame. One time Junior threw a rager when his parents were out of town and his entire fraternity swarmed the house.” You smiled at the memory, remembering ordering a group of frat boys around at the crack of dawn to clean the house before his parents got home. Junior baked you a cake in thanks after learning you’d been the one to stall Tom and Sarah for a few extra hours by suggesting they stop for brunch on their way back. Lily had done the same after you’d helped her get all the bubbles out of the hot tub after she and her friends had filled it with something you’d rather not mention.

Jake was quiet for a moment as you turned down the street, heading toward the highway. “How do you know them? I mean, you seem pretty close.”

Your tongue pressed against your cheek as you thought about how to phrase your answer. Had to be careful. Had to make sure you didn’t reveal something you shouldn’t. “Bradley introduced us.” There, that was vague enough. “Admiral Kazansky was good to me. His family looked after me during a really weird time in my life and I tried to repay that kindness, in any way I could. After all, I did have some experience with what they needed.” You sighed and scraped the edge of your thumbnail against your lip. You’d been the one to deal with the home care nurses when Sarah needed a break. You knew a few ways to help Tom be comfortable through his treatments and he seemed to be grateful that he didn’t need to ask for them, keeping a little bit of his pride. You’d been so hopeful when he’d gone into remission but tried to keep it together when it had come back. You were happy to play the part of stalwart supporter when the prognosis came back grim. “They’re good people.”

Your stomach churned when you thought of why you’d met the Kazansky family but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. But you changed the subject, asking about the surely-dull conversations Jake had with the brass as you merged onto the highway.

“…if I ever get that boring, you have my permission to smack me,” he finished with a grimace.

“You’d probably like that too much. You’re just going to have to be boring and live with the consequences.” Proving your point, Jake smiled when you smacked his hand away from your radio again. There was no way you were changing the station when David Bowie was singing. Absolutely not. And then when “Rhiannon” came on next, you made sure to crank the volume as Jake pretended to not know the words.

You were having a great time. Really. And it was a little terrifying how easily he made you laugh when he finally gave in and started to croon (a little off key) alongside your pitchy warbling. But it petered out as Jake looked back with a squint but turned forward with a frown. When he turned to look back again you turned down the radio with a frown of your own and glanced in your rear view mirror. “What is it?”

“The car behind you keeps speeding up and slowing down.”

While keeping an eye on the traffic in front of you, you looked at the car Jake pointed out and your stomach sunk to your feet as you watched it drive under the next streetlight.

It was a black ‘67 Dodge Charger with a distinctive sword charm hanging from the rear view mirror.

You knew that car. You knew that charm.

And despite the shadows of the car hiding the driver’s face, you knew who was behind the wheel.

And just as that realization dawned on you, the charger’s brights flashed and you winced as the lights flooded your car.

“What is this guy’s problem?” Jake grumbled, turning back around to stare.

“I…” What could you possibly say? You couldn’t tell Jake. Wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever. But it didn’t matter because the next time you glanced in the rear view you realized the charger was about to ram into the back of your car. You stomped on the gas and the engine roared as you tried to avoid the collision.

But he kept coming.

Your heart clawed its way up behind your teeth as you merged into the next lane over, earning an angry honk from a Jeep for not using your turn signal, and the charger sped past and you almost thought you were in the clear but then he was merging too, slamming on his brakes and you had to swerve back into the other lane to avoid crashing into his trunk.

“Jesus!” Jake yelled.

“I-I’m sorry!” The words were torn from your throat but you doubted Jake heard them over the barrages of angry honks and the thundering of your car’s engine, nearly drowned out by the growl of the charger’s overpowered mechanics.

The charger moved, keeping pace with your car and you were only given a warning in the form of Jake yelling before you realized that the car was coming into your lane. You yanked the wheel, nearly hitting the dividing wall as you avoided it and pressed the accelerator to the floor. You weaved around two cars, earning more honks as you used the shoulder to gain distance, and then noticed the next exit was only half a mile away. You needed to get off the highway.

“Fuck!”

The charger followed you onto the shoulder and you knew you had to move. Now or never. You moved across the highway and nearly clipped the barrier as you shot onto the off-ramp, a cacophony of squealing brakes and horns providing a terrible soundtrack to your horrendous driving. But it worked. You saw the charger try to get to the exit, too, and miss. He had to drive on. Away from you.

You hardly remember driving the rest of the way back to the Hard Deck in silence, your heart still stuck behind your teeth. Every few seconds, you’d check your rear view mirror but you didn’t see that car again. When you parked in the Hard Deck’s lot, you finally peeled your hands away from the steering wheel and your fingers shook and ached.

“What the fuck was that?” Jake asked after a stretch of silence.

You tried to suck in a breath and only managed to make your lungs burn. You needed to calm down. Needed it. Needed… “I-I have to call Bradley,” you muttered, shaking hand scrambling through the contents of your purse to grab at your phone. “I have to-”

“What’s Bradshaw going to do? He’s out in the desert with Mav. I’m right here, Punch. Tell me.”

But you only shook your head and had your phone dialing Bradley’s number before it even reached your ear. But it rang. And rang. And rang.

“This is Bradshaw. Can’t come to the phone right now-”

Fuck. You killed the call with an unsteady breath and none too gently shoved your phone back into your purse before pressing your nails into your thighs, needing to feel something other than your racing heart. Tiny pinpricks of pain zipped up your leg and you let your head fall back against the headrest before uncurling your hands. This was better. This was okay. You’d made it. For now, you were okay. “I…need a drink.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.”

You turned to the side and felt just a smidge of mortification wash over you as you realized Jake was still sitting there, waiting for you. Fuck. “I’ll get you one, too.” Then you were up and out of your car, hitting the lock button four times just to make sure, and all but stomping into the Hard Deck with Jake on your heels.

**

It was either a blessing or a curse that none of the other Daggers were at the bar tonight as Jake followed you up to the mostly un-busy bar and rattled off your usual order. “And please get Jake whatever he wants,” you said, handing over your card to Jimmy.

Jake slipped into the barstool at your side and studied you for a moment. It was almost like you hadn’t nearly crashed your car three times or run off the road by a charger with a vendetta. If he didn’t know you better—and Jake tried to ignore that it was becoming clearer by the day that maybe he didn’t know you as well as he thought—he might think you were just out for a nightcap. But the vacancy of your expression was too…careful. Too practiced. It looked like there was a concentrated effort to keep your brow from pinching.

“You wanna tell me what that was back there?” He asked, almost tentative. He just…wanted to make sure you were okay, but he wanted answers, too. The way you were reacting wasn’t normal. The complete shut down of your previous panic wasn’t right.

Your next breath was slow, measured. “I must’ve cut him off or something. Road rage is a hell of a thing.”

Jake bit back the disbelieving comment and thanked Jimmy as he set the drinks down with a small smile and handed back your card. Fine. “So you needed to call Rooster after all that but can’t tell me what you really think happened?” Jake had seen all the close contact between you and Rooster. He’d seen how you’d whisper in the other man’s ear. He had seen how Rooster was always ready for you with a hug or an arm around your shoulder. And no, Jake didn’t hate that. Didn’t hate that you seemed to trust Rooster more than him and he had been the one to be in the car with you tonight. “Is he your boyfriend or something? Fuck buddy?”

Your unamused stare over the edge of your glass had Jake sitting a little straighter. “He’s not my type,” you said with a shrug before downing the rest of the small drink.

“You sure? ‘Cause it sure as hell seems like-”

Your glass hitting the bar top stifled any other words Jake might have said. “Look, I’ve been trying for eighteen months to get Bradley to admit he’s in love with redacted.” You flagged down Jimmy and asked for a refill with an easy smile that evaporated the second you looked back at Jake. Your arched eyebrow had his stomach clenching for several different reasons he didn’t have the time to address. “Any other slightly invasive questions you want to ask? Want to know my social security number? What color of underwear I’m wearing?”

Jake could feel the tips of his ears burning. You were relentless. But good. At least he was getting some sort of reaction out of you. “Those are two wildly different questions, you know.”

“I do know. So, hurry up and ask. I’m giving you until my drink arrives.”

He had a million more questions but he really did need a straight answer. He could be relentless, too. But first: “You literally said redacted.”

“So smart, Ken! Look at you go!”

“Who is redacted?”

The next smile you gave him was all teeth and your tone was as condescending as Cyclone on a bad day, “well, now, Ken, when someone says ‘redacted,’ it means-”

Jake’s hand pressed over your mouth, and he sighed as he felt you frown beneath his palm. Fine. He could switch tactics. He could get one real answer out of you tonight. “You can’t blame me for thinking that something else is going on. Do you love him?”

You peeled his hand away from your face as your new drink was quickly placed in front of you and you drained it as if you needed it to deal with him. “You know, there is a Greek word,Philia. It’s one of the different types of love from Greek Philosophy-”

“Punch-”

“And it’s a brotherly love. But since I know you won’t take that as an answer, no. I don’t love him in the way you’re insinuating. And he doesn’t love me that way, either.” The look in your eyes reminded Jake of someone having just come down after g-loc as your fingernail tapped against the glass’ base. Click. Click. Click. “Bradley has seen me at my lowest. Bob, too. Sometimes I think they only keep me around so I don't do something stupid.” Your mouth rolled to the side as the tapping stopped and you pushed the glass away before reaching for your purse.

“That’s not true-”

“Look, tonight has been weird. Okay? Can’t deny that. I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.” You shook your head as you pulled out a few bills for a tip and the second drink and set them under your empty glass. And you wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t even turn toward him again. Jake’s hands curled into fists at his sides to fight the urge to reach out to you, to try to let you know that he would do it all again. All of it. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I owe you.” And then you turned and left.

**

Driving home shouldn’t be a problem, right? You just needed to put the key in the ignition, shift into drive, and go home. But you just couldn’t move. Couldn’t pull your eyes away from the dark dashboard.

He had found you while you were on the road. He had tried to crash your car. He had tried to run you off the road. He had tried to kill you.

While Jake was in the car with you.

Tears burned your eyes and you limply let them fall, your hands not moving from your lap. A familiar, dull ringing settled over your ears and you slumped further into your seat, only to feel your entire body go rigid as you heard someone stepping up to your car, sand sliding beneath their shoes on the pavement.

You swung around as the door opened, ready to fight, ready to scream, but felt yourself deflate as Jake leaned down, shoving his way into the car to haul you closer, warm, muscular arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. And that just about broke you. The first sob was ripped out of your throat and the next followed in rapid succession as you grasped loosely at the front of his shirt. The scent of his expensive cologne was almost calming. Almost comforting.

His hands moved up and down, up and down, along your spine and you vaguely heard him whispering something to you. Something like, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” But it was barely more than white noise to your ears as your body shook. But soon you were pulling back, eyes bleary and itchy. God. You were a mess. There was an apology on the tip of your tongue that died as soon as Jake’s large hand gently, carefully cupped your cheek and his calloused thumb swiped against the delicate half moon of skin beneath your eye.

“Let me drive you home.”

Your chin wobbled with new tears and a fresh wave of self-loathing washed over you but you still nodded. It was a moment of weakness. A moment you were sure you’d regret but you just needed help. Just a little. Just for now. But still, you let Jake help you over the center console and into the passenger seat. Before you had the chance to move, Jake reached over and buckled you in and moved to do the same for himself before he frowned, looking at something on the hood of your car. He stepped out and grabbed something from underneath your windshield wiper.

You frowned as he sat back down. “What is it?”

But Jake didn’t answer, mouth set in a thin line and eyes trained on the thing in his grasp.

Leaning over, your heart almost stopped. It was a Polaroid of you and Jake at the engagement party. It was obviously shot through the window, a glare taking up half the photo. But still, anyone who looked at the picture would see you and Jake, his hands on your hips and smiles on your faces.

Did you have fun at the party? He doesn’t look like your type

“Jake, I…” Your throat was scratchy. Arid.

“What does this mean, Punch?”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! I’d love to hear your theories. Also, as an aside, I do not keep a tag list. I’m sorry! 

[fahye]

book recs: aug-sept '23

THE BAYOU by arden powell -- queer horror novella! this is set in 1930s louisiana and like all good horror it's about horrible unburied secrets haunting you. but also gators and summer flooding and guilt and, uh, letting a hot mysterious man/fae/?other? rail you in a church. superb. no notes.

TELL ME I'M WORTHLESS by alison rumfitt -- MORE QUEER HORROR! TRANS HORROR!! this is a haunted house book but the haunting is modern british fascism and the house is made of TERFs. the writing is fantastic. it's like being trapped in a small room with someone who is screaming loudly and endlessly, but like, in a good way.

THE SECRET COUNTRY by pamela dean -- this is an oldschool portal fantasy that somehow manages to combine excellent diana wynne jones vibes with my most common stress nightmare, ie. the one where you're in the Show but you've been so busy choreographing for the Show that you've forgotten to learn your own lines. baffling. very enjoyable.

KNOCKOUT by sarah maclean -- listen. listen. this series is about a historical vigilante girl gang, and this is the romance between a lady explosives expert and the exasperated policeman she wants very much to bang (heheh. bang.) very miss fisher vibes and also, somehow, very Fuck The Police (...heheh.) I adored it.

AN ISLAND PRINCESS STARTS A SCANDAL by adriana herrera -- a very horny and fun f/f histrom about a venezuelan artist in paris and the duchess she is, again, extremely determined to bang. I love this series of adriana's, with all its glorious historical detail about the various latinx delegations to the grand paris exhibition.

THE SPIDER AND HER DEMONS by sydney khoo -- YA fantasy about a chinese-malaysian australian girl who is also, inconveniently, a spider demon. this has an aro-ace heroine and heaps of very cool and creepy body horror and made me desperate to go back to sydney and eat banh mi in cabramatta. a+.

WHITE CAT, BLACK DOG by kelly link -- so you know how kelly link is an absolute genius master of the short story form? you know how the best fairytale retellings are both chattily straightforward and bonkers weird? YEAH. my god this collection is so good.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

About Harold and P.Diddy

The pictures in the DM story are definitely from the Diana concert in 2007. If you look innthe background of them, you see Prince William and then CH press secretary Paddy Haverson (2003 - 2012). 

The pictures were widely circulated in UK media at the time. Harold looked super chuffed to be hanginb out with Kanye and P.Diddy and other musicians while William floated about in the background though i think he also took a picture with Kanye and P.Diddy.

As for when P.Diddy's parties started.....i was a teen in the 90s. Just as there were stories about R. Kelly and Aliyah and shoddy behaviour, so were stories about P.Diddy.

Though at the time there was this wierd criminal gangs thing going on with East coast rappers ( led by Biggie Smalks and P.Diddy) vs West coast rappers led by Suge Knight. The entire thing seemed dangerous as hell because you heard about Dr Dre and Vanilla Ice being bodily threatened into signing away the rights to their records and or being pressed into signing with the record company he ran. East vs West feud culminated in Tupac and Biggie being shot. 

Somehow, P.Diddy made his image over witn that Police song tribute to Biggie and then started dating JLO whilst pretending to be a reformed man at best or the innocent victim of that East vs West coast feud with fingers pointing at Suge Knight who didn't help matters by being a genuinely scary guy. 

Then on a night out to a club, soneone either got shot or there was a drive by, and the guns were discovered in the car that P.Diddy and JLO was travelling in. 

JLO dropped and ran away from P.Diddy the minute she was released from the police station and she's never looked back. 

P.Diddy started throwing these huge public parties - His White parties became legendary. Even featured on an episode of Sex and the City except they substituted P.Diddy for Richard. 

However, you'd hear all this other stuff going on at the same time. Different parties. JayZ was mentioned at these other parties. As Wendy Williams says,' the streets were talking...'

You heard about the s3xual grooming of young stars in the R& B/ Hip Hop world especially male stars was merely whispered eg then 14yr old Usher, Little Bow Wow, Tevin Campbell. All alleged to have been groomed by P.Diddy. These days Usher gives interviews in which he admits to attending wild private parties with P.Diddy when he lived with him for a year. Everyone glosses over his age when he was doing this.

And that girlband, Danity Kane that he created in 2005 were already accusing him of sordid behaviour and abuse though everyone dismissed them as sour grapes because they didn't become stars on the level of an Usher / Tevin Campbell / Little Bow Wow. 

By the time 2010 rolled around, the streets were talking louder, but everyone ignored it because P.Diddy wasn't as much in our faces. 

I honestly think that if Cassie his ex-girlfriend hadn't sued him and he settled that suit less than 24hrs after it was filed to the tune of $30M, i think he'd have gotten away with this. 

But trust me when i say that P.Diddy's misdeeds are as sordid as R. Kelly and possibly worse if the whispers of what he did in that West vs East coast feud are true. 

The only shocker about all this is T.D. Jakes who was outed as a frequent attendee at these other parties. 

I'm so tired of reverred preachers having rotten, margot filled feet of clay. 

*****

All of this. 💯.

I was going to reblog one of my posts from last week where I said “there’s nothing happening. Wait till the next celeb scandal breaks and then worry if KP is still in the news” (because the new celeb scandal is here) and decided not to dredge up old feelings since Kate’s Friday Statement quelled a lot of it.

But I still want to say what I was going to say and anon, you’ve submitted the PERFECT post.

This P. Diddy lawsuit, especially the RICO part and yesterday’s raid, is huge. The ripple effects are going to be significant.

Just look at all the people mentioned in anon’s post. They mentioned everyone I was writing about - Jennifer Lopez, R. Kelly, Aaliyah, Suge Knight, East Coast vs West Coast.

The rap industry is quaking in their boots. It’s going to get messy.

And also, Jennifer Lopez is having a mini-PR crisis of her own. It’s not as bad as what KP has been going through, but it has the potential to be - people are calling out her ego and bad behavior (she consistently ranks in top 10 worst celebs to meet) and her new film bombed. If she wants to stop all the bad press she’s getting, she’s going to roll on P. Diddy in a tell-all couch confession about how horrific life was with him and now she can finally speak out.

But there’s one guy having a good time with this:

50 Cent has been telling about P. Diddy for YEARS.

His victory lap on Twitter is most deserved.

[whilereadingandwalking]

As always, my favorites of the year list was beset by last minute changes, doubts, and decisions, especially because this year I forced myself into a top 10!

Second photo is my honorable mentions...I literally already have regrets! Ask me anything about these top choices—I'm happy to share my reviews, thoughts, and more!

My Top Ten of 2023:

Tale of Genji by Lady Murasaki Shikibu tr. Seidensticker

Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

We Deserve Monuments by Jas Hammonds

The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff

What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat by Aubrey Gordon

Ace by Angela Chen

Babel by R.F. Kuang

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

Our Share of Night by Mariana Enríquez tr. McDowell

Honorable mentions:

Now Go: On Grief and Studio Ghibli by Karl Thomas Smith

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami tr. Gabriel

The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang

White Cat, Black Dog: Stories by Kelly Link

The Word for World is Forest by Ursula K. Le Guin

When the Hibiscus Falls by M. Evelina Galang

Let Us Descend by Jesmyn Ward

The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal

Bleed: Destroying Myths and Misogyny in Endometriosis Care by Tracey Lindeman

Never a City So Real by Alex Kotlowitz

The Crown Ain't Worth Much by Hanif Abdurraqib

Sons of Darkness (Jan ’24) by Gourav Mohanty

The End of August by Yū Miri tr. Giles

(Unpictured): Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

(Unpictured): The Thick and the Lean by Chana Porter

[weclassybouquetfun]

Netflix is so funny. The streamer goes radio silence on their projects for years ::cough:: THE OLD GUARD sequel ::cough::, then turn around and say, "By the way: this and that drops tomorrow."

Or tonight in the case of the new SING short. Did you know there was going to be a SING short? Neither did I. But today Netflix announced that tonight at midnight, the Halloween themed SING short will debut.

SING THRILLER.

What is is about? Well, just that. The gang decides to stage their version of Michael Jackson's music video "Thriiller"

Returning for the short is Matthew McConaughey as Buster Moon, Tori Kelly as Meena, Nick Kroll as Gunter, Scarlette Johannsson as Ash, Garth Jennings as Miss Crawly and Taron Egerton as Johnny.

To prove the global reach of "Thriller" Taika Watiti did a Haka inspired bent at the end of his film BOY.

Taron Egerton's not coming off of his IG hiatus for this, but perhaps he will in December when his Netflix thriller CARRY ON is finally released (on December 13th, to be exact.).

Maybe by December 13th they will release a better poster.

Entertainment Weekly exclusive pictures from the upcoming film (and other KINGSMAN alums goings-on).

Since Edward Holcroft has provided Taron's fans with a few glimpses of Taron since his self-imposed social media hiatus,

I'll give Ed equal time.

Holcroft's Lithuanian limited series A WOLF'S PALATE (which, to date is Lithuania's most expensive sereis) is one of the five series selected to screen at TV Beats Forum's inaugural screening day on November 20th.  The six-parter, A WOLF's PALATE is described as a psychological drama with supernatural elements.

While I await Ed's return to the screen, I just have to be satisfied with his selfies.

Our other KINGSMAN alum, Colin Firth has been absent from screens for a moment, but he will soon be back with the Sky/Peacock five-part limted series, LOCKERBIE: A SEARCH FOR TRUTH.

LOCKERBIE: A SEARCH FOR TRUTH tells the real-life story of Dr. Jim Swire whose daughter was among the 259 people who lost their lives in the 1988 bombing of a PamAm flight over Lockerbie, Scotland (with an additional eleven who died on the ground due to the disintergrating plane). It will drop January 2nd in the UK and the US.

Like Mark Strong, Firth will set foot in the Sherlock Holmes universe. He has been cast in Guy Ritchie's upcoming YOUNG SHERLOCK series for Amazon Prime Video starring Heros Fiennes-Tiffins as the young detective, Fiennes-Tiffin's uncle Joseph Fiennes as his father Silas,

Natascha McElhone as his mother Cordelia, Max Irons as Mycroft Holmes, Tsine Tseng (3 BODY PROBLEM) as Princess Gulun Shou'an, Dónal Finn (WHEEL OF TIME) as Moriarty and Firth as  Sir Bucephalus Hodge (no further character details have been announced).

And while not confirmed, there was a report that Colin Firth will be joining his ARTHUR NEWMAN and MARY POPPINS RETURNS costar Emily Blunt in Steven Spielberg's next film that is slated for a 2026 release.

[wildsaltair]

Due to the fact that I am a sunken wreckage of a human being for Russell Crowe, I'm working on collecting all the books related to his movies! Here's what l've discovered so far, but l'd love to know if y'all know of any others! :)

Books that were made into movies:

Master and Commander (Patrick O'Brian)

L.A. Confidential (James Ellroy)

American Gangster (Steve Zaillian)

A Beautiful Mind (Sylvia Nasar)

Les Misérables (Victor Hugo)

A Good Year (Peter Mayle)

The Silver Brumby (Elyne Mitchell)

Three-Ten to Yuma and Other Short Stories (Elmore Leonard)

Winter's Tale (Mark Helprin)

An Exorcist Tells His Story (Gabriele Amorth)

Body of Lies (David Ignatius)

Tenderness (Robert Cormier)

Hammers Over the Anvil (Alan Marshall)

Miss Shumway Waves a Wand (James Hadley Chase)

True History of the Kelly Gang (Justin Kurzel)

The Greatest Beer Run Ever (John "Chick" Donohue and J.T. Molloy)

The Book of Mirrors (E.O. Chirovici)

The Nazi and the Psychiatrist (Jack El-Hai)

Novelizations of movies:

Gladiator (Dewey Gram)

The Quick and the Dead (Jack Curtis)

Virtuosity (Terry Bisson)

Cinderella Man (Marc Cerasini)

The Next Three Days (Jennifer Krediet)

The Water Diviner (Andrew Anastasios and Meaghan Wilson-Anastasios)

The Nice Guys (Charles Ardai)

Proof of Life (David Robbins)

Noah (Mark Morris)

Man of Steel (Greg Cox)

[beardedmrbean]

New claims of plagiarism emerged Tuesday against Vice President Kamala Harris — with allegations including that she fabricated a story about sex trafficking and cribbed the work of other prosecutors, a judge and even Wikipedia to draft state reports on crime.

Harris, 60, seems to have invented details of a sex crime case out of whole cloth and taken sentences directly from published work by former California Attorney General Bill Lockyer as well as a New York jurist.

The new allegations were first reported by the Washington Free Beacon.

In a 2012 report on human trafficking Harris issued while California’s attorney general, she cited a fictional example of the type of call received by the National Human Trafficking Hotline as a bona fide case that had occurred.

The nonprofit in charge of the hotline, Polaris Project, had posted the exact same case details in June of that year as “representative of the types of calls” it received.

With different “names, locations, and other identifying information,” the example was “meant for informational purposes only,” according to an archived webpage reviewed by the Free Beacon.

But Harris copied the example verbatim into the state report, keeping the alias — “Kelly” — of the woman who was being trafficked but shifting the venue from Washington, D.C., to her native San Francisco.

The 2012 report also used a nearly identical paragraph to a Wikipedia entry on California’s Victim Compensation Board.

Another report put out in 2011, on organized crime the previous year, contained passages that were an exact match for portions of Lockyer’s report on the same subject six years earlier.

In 2014, Harris apparently stole from New York Court of Claims and Albany County Superior Court Judge Roger McDonough for a report on transnational gangs.

Recent polling has shown that Harris is seen as far more honest than her Republican opponent, former President Donald Trump, but the copycat claims — on top of earlier plagiarism allegations — is sure to test that public image.

The Trump campaign dubbed the veep a political “chameleon” in August, shortly after she clinched the Democratic nomination, for flip-flopping on her long-held liberal stances related to crime and immigration while embracing some of the 45th president’s proposed policies.

In April 2007, years before the purloined reports, Harris appeared before the House Judiciary Committee to lobby for passage of the John R. Justice Prosecutors and Defenders Incentive Act — a bill that would have helped local and state prosecutors and public defenders repay their law school and undergraduate loans while performing their public service.

More talented lawyers who opted for high pay at white-shoe firms would remain in the public sector if their debt was forgiven, the then-San Francisco DA argued, keeping more expertise in prosecutors and public defenders’ offices and helping to fill gaps in staffing.

Harris’ words in the April 24 hearing were nearly identical to testimony given two months prior by Republican Winnebago County, Ill., prosecutor Paul Logli, the Free Beacon also noted, citing the occurrence of the same statistics, punctuation and even typos in both written statements.

In total, the outlet said, 1,200 of the 1,500 words spoken by Harris (80%) were the same as those uttered by Logli.

Logli told The Post Tuesday that his testimony was prepared and written “largely” by staff from the National District Attorneys Association (NDAA), where he was then serving as president.

He said that Harris, who was a member of the association’s board of directors at the time, likely “also relied on NDAA staff support for her opening statement.”

“The similar content of our statements was an effort by NDAA to be entirely consistent in the positions we presented to both Houses of Congress on behalf of the 3,500 state and local prosecutors we represented on  a national level,” Logli said in an emailed statement. “Like me, I believe Ms. Harris simply relied on NDAA staff for much of the content of her opening statement before Congress.”

Manhattan Institute senior fellow Christopher Rufo revealed last week that portions of Harris’ 2009 pro-criminal justice reform book, “Smart on Crime,” had used identical wording to academic studies, press reports and even a Wikipedia entry — all of which predated the publication’s release.

Harris’ ghostwriter seemed unaware of the apparently plagiarized passages when contacted by The Post — but her publisher later signaled internally that the accusations were “a very sensitive topic” that was being handled by higher-ups.

“It was not the ghostwriter’s fault but, rather, this is a pattern,” Joshua Lisec, a New York Times bestselling ghostwriter, told The Post in a phone interview last week, saying he believed that Harris had probably “copied and pasted” other people’s work and sent it off to her ghostwriter without attribution.

“I don’t have inside access to their particular working relationship, but from the outside, my lens of the ghostwriting career and the profession, knowing how this goes, the ghostwriter probably had no idea that likely Kamala copied and pasted from somewhere on the internet or maybe her assistant did,” he said.

“She’s in trouble with everybody that she has effectively stolen [or] stolen from, or whoever did it, but she’s liable because her name is is on it,” Lisec said of Harris’ pilfering.

Harris’ ghostwriter, Joan O’C. Hamilton, he added, was “legitimate, experienced, successful as a ghostwriter and not the sort of person that you would expect engages with extremely low standards.”

South Dakota GOP Gov. Kristi Noem was widely viewed as a potential running mate pick for Trump before her own errors about a “meeting” with North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un crept past a ghostwriter into her political memoir “No Going Back,” which was published in May.

The Harris campaign and Hamilton did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

[everysongieverwrote]

I gotta admit, I love the last scene we get of Jo in the latest episode. When she silently watches as Kelly happily walks away from her (after she just asked her about Reena) and she just stands there alone, then looks from one side to the other and Dusty is avoiding her eyes, no one is paying her any attention, and the other girls and Warren are nowhere to be seen. Because this is it, this is the moment. She's alone now, she's no longer a leader, she no longer has a gang. The only family she had, the family she fought for, is gone. That's a "queen" who just realized she has been abandoned, betrayed, and dethroned. The whole episode does a great job of showing how the power dynamics shifted in the group. How Jo went from being the leader to being a follower. From being the one who uses people to becoming the one who gets used. The fact that she's the only one following the case and the one who asked Kelly about the dreams (after both Warren and Dusty confessed to having them) also speaks volumes and develops her character even more. Chloe Guidry and the UTB writers and directors have done an amazing job with this character and her particular story. Like, yes, of course she's not innocent but she's human and I think this is what made her realize that.

[upsidedog]

max mayfield is 7 years old, like kelly green and annie johnson, who are her best friends. she isn’t their’s, she knows this. like she knows kelly will live in a mansion, become a princess and drive a lamborghini with her twelve kids and husband, tom simon, her seat partner. kelly’s happy, obviously, she cheated, she always cheats at m.a.s.h, but max is happy for kelly anyway, she tells her. max is marrying annie’s dad, the other girls gag at the idea, she makes a joke about marrying rich “like grandma said my mom should’ve!” max laughs too loud, no response from the girls. “i’m glad she didn’t though cuz i love my dad…” she specifies. this embarrassment doesn’t stop her from squealing at her own barf joke later on, she repeats it in case kelly and ann didn’t hear. “she’s so annoying, do we have to keep hanging out with her? your guy’s moms aren’t even friends anymore.” kelly pleads after recess, max knows they know she can hear them.

max mayfield is 9 years old, she and billy hargrove recently became siblings, legally at least, billy would not call them that, max doesn’t care. and not in the way that she’s feigning chillness to seem on top of things, but in the way that she knows if she plays her cards right she can prove herself as someone worth calling a sister. “that jacket makes you look like a dyke.” billy says, he and his friends pool into the backyard. a month ago she’d ask if she could play with them, but she’s smarter now, she’s no longer a pussy, she’s a dyke, its change, it’s progress, she can work with it. “yeah, even more than usual.” one of the friends adds, everybody laughs. max remains focused on tightening the bolts of her skateboard and uses her free hand to flip the boys off. mentally she prays this is what playful sibling fighting looks like and not an action that will get her deck ripped away from her and broken against the concrete. it’s fine, the boys mock and jeer but don’t say anything she hasn’t heard before. another friend asks if she rides her skateboard or just pretends to be it’s mom. this is in reference to the time she convinced herself the boys were interested in knowing her and earnestly spoke about the mechanics of her skateboard, being too passionate, speaking too much, smiling too wide. all things she has since learned the right amount of is none. “i don’t know.” she gets up. “do you have a life or are you such a dweeb the only time you feel the need to get off your ass is to annoy a little girl with real hobbies?” when she walks off she hears the other boys gang up on him, he’s the new fool, all the other boys were just guilty of the same thing, but whatever. she thinks maybe if she maintains this for a little longer they can return back to the sibling conversation. they don’t even have to call it that, they could just do the part where they’re nice to each other sometimes.

max mayfield is 11 years old. jenny chen is a teenager, fifteen, from san francisco, short black hair, dresses like she’s on the cover of thrasher, first girl max has ever seen at the skate park who isn’t just there to watch. max wants to be her friend so bad it makes her stomach turn. until it happens. “i never see other girls who skate! it’s so cool to meet you, i’m jenny!” max knows. she ignores jenny’s invitation to fist bump. “do you really skate? or are you just someone’s girlfriend?” max knows the answer to the question, but she also knows the ending to this story. jenny pulls her hand back like max hit it. “yeah i skate, but i’m sure the boys here wish.” her laugh is refreshing, max didn’t know that was a thing laughs could be, it was so cool and light and confident, like it reset something in her. max wonders how someone can be so cool without any hit of cruelty, when max tells jenny she has to do a trick to prove it she shrugs and agrees like it wasn’t something said with the intention of upsetting her. jenny does an ollie off on the half pipe and asks if she can see any of max’s tricks. it makes max more upset that there’s no malice in this request, the audacity to show genuine interest in her. max is usually too mean but to jenny she cannot be mean enough. and typically she cannot do an ollie off a half pipe. today is no different. she falls and wakes up in the hospital. billy hands her flowers, rolls his eyes, then goes to wait in the car. max’s mom lets jenny apologize. it’s a real genuine apology, even though she has nothing to be sorry for it still feels good and different. max tells jenny to leave and never sees her at the park again.

max mayfield is 13 years old, she wonders if the group of boys yelling over dig dug are too. her initial annoyance with their hogging of her favorite game has melted into an admiration.. that’s too bold, curiosity, maybe. there’s arguments every other minute but between those there’s “oh wait! oh shit! lucas you genius! you genius!” whoever’s praising “lucas” gets so excited his friend progressed in the game the other boys have to pull him away. when the little one says he can’t see, no one mocks his size, instead the group instinctively makes room for their friend. and they’re all being too loud, too passionate, definitely taking the game too seriously. max wonders what it would be like to have something like that. she wonders how long they have all been friends for. do you have one chance for something like their’s as a child and then never again? has she missed her opportunity? could she even exist in an environment like that or would her cruelness be so sharp it’d cut through any moments tenderness? if she just walked up and asked to join what they’d say? answers for another day. maybe never. probably never.

max mayfield is 15 years old and mike wheeler’s basement is her favorite place in the whole wide world. which is why it’s the ideal location for her birthday party. sure billy is dead and el and will are moving next week, but ignore that, because yes will and el are moving away which is sad because they’re two of her best friends, but they’re two of her best friends, and she’s there’s. el is sitting on the floor with max making stupid jokes and max is clutching a pillow to her stomach, laughing like she’s alone, too much, too loud, dustin joins in and is even worse, she loves it. lucas interrupts, nudging her back with his foot. “this is the part you like.” he mouths, big, stupid, earnest, adorable smile on his face, so proud to remember. she’s proud of him too, swooned might be the better word, if she’s being honest. she likes him so much she wants to shrink herself into something small and accessible for him, but the worst part is that isn’t even what he wants from her. as much as max is trained to see the worst in others, lucas is real and warm and never says anything he doesn’t mean and he says he likes her. “thanks.” is all she can get out, trying not unravel from the affection. her last straw is mike and will marching down the basement stairs singing happy birthday. she’s clenching her teeth, mentally “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”-ing. she’s crying. it didn’t work, she’s crying. they’re doing this nice thing and she’s going to ruin the moment because she’s crying, they’re the best friends she’s ever had and she’s crying, they’re the only friends she’s ever had and she’s crying and they’re hugging her and laughing and she’s laughing and oh god, it’s good, she’s crying because she’s loved.

[interestinglittlerelationship]

100 Things to Love About the OC

1. Ryan Atwood

2. Taylor Townsend

3. Summer Roberts

4. Seth Cohen

5. Sandy Cohen

6. Kirsten Cohen

7. Little Kaitlin Cooper

8. Teenage Kaitlin Cooper

9. The Summer Breeze

10. Seth’s Tahiti dream and “Yeah, she has no idea, I’ve never spoken to her before.”

11. Captain Oats

12. Princess Sparkle

13. The “I Wish I Was a Mermaid” Poem

14. 🎶California Here I Come🎶

15. Seth & Summer’s upside down kiss in the rain

16. Bagels 🥯

17. The bagel slicer

18. Sandy’s smear

19. The Pool House

20. Pad Thai

21. Callbacks and circular story telling

22. Marissa: “Who are you?”

Ryan: Whoever you want me to be.”

23. “You know what I like about rich kids?” BAM “Nothing.”

24. Ryan saying “Hey, my dad is right here,” to Sandy with the little shoulder bump

25. 🎶The Bluest Line🎶

26. 🎶Mmm, Whatcha Say🎶

27. 🎶Hallelujah🎶

28. Summer’s “Ew”

29. Bunnies🐰(Pancakes and Flapjacks)

30. Summer and Ryan’s we got into college spinning hug

31. The Model Home

32. The rare moments in which the core four were all happy

33. The “new & improved” core four, now with Taylor Townsend

34. Sophie Cohen

35. “You’re a Cohen now, welcome to a life of insecurity and paralyzing self-doubt.”

36. Ryan and Seth little secret handshake thing

37. Sarcasm

38. Seth standing on things to declare his love

39. Summer standing on things to declare her love

40. Sandy giving Ryan his Berkley sweatshirt

41. Kirsten crying when Ryan left to go back to Chino

42. Peach Tort

43. Sandy was in a gang and, “We robbed from the poor and gave to the poor.”

44. Sandy punching Frank

45. Ryan’s sad little everyone leaves me wave

46. Ryan and Sandy’s bus stop hug

47. Ryan and Kirsten’s goodbye hug

48. Kirsten hugging Ryan and Seth at the same time

49. Seth and Ryan’s aborted handshake hug

50. Ryan and Seth’s whole friendship/brotherhood

51. Marissa and Summer’s whole friendship

52. Summer and Marissa being step sisters for a hot second

53. Summer and Taylor’s whole friendship

54. Ryan and Summer’s whole friendship

55. The gang adopting former bully Luke Ward for a hot second

56. Seth running away to live with former bully Luke Ward

57. Luke Ward

58. Alex Kelly

59. Alex and Marissa for the three episodes they were allowed to be happy

60. Marissa coming out to Summer

61. Chrismukkah

62. Chrismukkah stockings all in a row

63. Seth’s Christmukkah song

64. Summer saving Christmakkah

65. Seth’s color coded holiday alert system

66. “Taylor thinks Ryan is funny.”

67. And similarly:

Taylor: “Ryan, you told a real joke!”

Ryan: “Not a very good one, but yes I told

a real joke. Thank you, don’t tell anyone.”

68. Taylor’s red dress

69. Ryan: “How do you keep doing that?”

Taylor: “Doing what?”

Ryan: “Saying what I think before I feel it.”

Taylor: “Because I think about you.”

70. Ryan telling Taylor that he loves her

71. The whole flash forward ending montage

72. But most especially the boy on the stone wall and “Hey, kid, you need some help?”

73. Summer sticking her tongue out walking down the aisle at her wedding

74. Seth’s bar mitzvah friendship dance

75. Atomic County

76. The fact that Cosmo Girl (Marissa) gets her powers from a magic flask

77. The comic book Seth makes Ryan to convince him to come home

78. Ryan’s speech about social security running out and “Where I come having a dream doesn’t make you smart. Knowing it won’t come true? That does.”

79. The model home

80. The fact that Seth loves The Vegas

81. The fact that Seth has more friends at The Nana’s retirement home than at school

82. Ryan punching people who really deserve it

83. Seth making a list of people Ryan has punched while Ryan’s bleeding on the side of the road

84. Drunk Seth

85. The beach

86. Seth’s skateboard & Ryan’s bike

87. Seth’s Paris mural he painted for Marissa

88. Seth & Marissa’s whole friendship

89. Taylor stalking Ryan and their, “And then I can stock you.” “And then I can stock you,” scene

90. Newpsies

91. The Newport Group

92. Ryan the original arsonist and Seth the encore

93. The fact that Kirsten can’t cook

94. Everyone’s genuine terror when Kirsten tries to cook

95. The fact that Seth and Summer are the epitome of he fell first, she fell harder.

96. Seth: “At least I leave you funnier than when

I found you.”

Ryan: “I’m a lot better off than when you

found me.”

Seth: “Me too.”

97. Summer being a super cool environmental activist

98. Ryan finding his true family

99. Taylor finding her true family

100. The way Ryan looks at Taylor