gyzym

OKAY, TWO THINGS.

One: sdjkfhsdjkfhsdkjf YOU GUYS, robanybody wrote A MOTHERFUCKING GOOD OMENS AU OH MY FUCKING GOD. Danny's Aziraphale, Steve is Crowley, Steve's truck turns everything into Queen, and MY HEART IS GOING TO EXPLODE FROM GLEE. Seriously, I mean, look, robanybody, I would read the phone book if she wrote it, because it would inevitably manage to be hilarious and incredibly written and jdfsdfksdf. THIS IS NOT THE PHONE BOOK, IT IS A GOOD OMENS AU WRITTEN BY A GENIUS, GO, GO, GO, GO.

Two: so, YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED THAT I AM A LITTLE ~CHANGEABLE~ (whatever I can make Sherlock jokes if I want) when it comes to like. My layout and default icons and shit. IT'S BECAUSE I LIKE PRETTY THINGS, OKAY, and also because I cannot make icons myself because Photoshop is expensive, yo. So, last night I spent some of my insomnia hours browsing We ♥ It, and the lovely and amazing hermette agreed to make me a default icon all my ownnnnnnn!

AND THEN SHE MADE ME TWO, AND I CANNOT PICK WHICH ONE I LOVE THE MOST. So, they are below; look upon them and vote, please please please?





[Poll #1729154]

Okay, let's set the scene: it's a grey, rainy spring day in Cleveland, Ohio, and I am fourteen years old. My mother and I are arguing about how many usable Haggadahs we have (many of them are old and ripped to shit); my father is in the next room on his cell phone, and Burro and Burrito are upstairs doing god knows what. We're about six hours away from the descent of my extended family, who are coming over for Passover Seder.

My father hangs up the phone, walks into the dining room with an ashen face, and the following conversation (well, more or less; while the whole thing was extremely memorable, IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO) ensues.

My Father: Oh, god, that was my mother.
My Mother: What'd she want? Oh, tell me she's not coming, that would be great--
My Father: She ruined the soup.
My Mother: WHAT?
My Father: She said she fermented it--how can you ferment matzo ball soup, what does that even mean--
My Mother: Oh my god, oh my god, what do we do? Can we go to the deli and pick up enough soup for--oh, no, for like 40 people, the day of seder, oh, we're so fucked--
My Father: We could always ask my sister to make it.
Everyone: *Makes the face of horror generally associated with my aunt's cooking*
My Father: Okay, nevermind. You're just going to have to make it.
My Mother: I can't make it, I'm making like six other dishes, when do you think I'm going to have time to--I'm not even very good at it, it's your mother's thing, she had one thing to do--
My Father: She's old!
My Mother: Well obviously she's--
Me: Guys. Calm down. I will make the soup.
My Parents, Together: Sorry, WHAT?

There was some doubt expressed. There were some general rumblings of "But you're 14 and watching people make chicken soup is not the same as having made it yourself and OH GOD I CALLED THE DELI AND THEY ARE OUT OF SOUP I GUESS THIS IS OUR ONLY OPTION." There was a screaming fight between me and my father in the produce section of Giant Eagle--remind me to tell you guys the other Giant Eagle Passover story sometime--because he was convinced you made chicken soup with a red onion, which, no. The point is, six hours later my family sat down and ate my first-ever batch of matzo ball soup, and no one else has made it since.

It's snowing in Cleveland today, because the city went "OH SHIT IT'S ALMOST THE END OF MARCH, WHAT IF THESE PEOPLE FORGET WHERE THEY LIVE, BETTER PELT THEM WITH UNFORTUNATE WEATHER." And, because I feel like making chicken soup but can't be fucked to go to the store, I am posting the recipe (in, er, my typical rambling fashion) for you guys. I told you that story to make you understand when I tell you this: this soup breaks some typical cooking rules. There are some things that I'm going to tell you to do that are going to make you go, BUT I SHOULD DO IT THIS WAY or BUT THAT IS CHEATING. It is fine for you to feel that way; it is fine for you to make this soup however you see fit! But, for the love of god, don't try to tell me to do it differently. This recipe is my baby, my precious, my one and only, and the only thing I am inclined towards being particularly egotistical about, because I have in on the authority of everyone I know (family, friends, college roommates, the groups of people with whom I was only vaguely acquainted who used to flock to my college best friend's house in droves when they found out I was making it) that it is the best chicken soup ever. I have made it at least 10 times a year since I was 14, and my mother made her version before me, and my grandmother made her version before her, and IF YOU KNOCK IT, I WILL CUT YOU.

I am mostly kidding, but seriously, you guys: MY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS RECIPE AND THE SOUP IT PRODUCES ARE NOT RATIONAL. Like, I just...I cannot even explain the degree to which I Am A Jewish Woman And This Is My Chicken Soup Recipe And Damn Right It's Better Than Yours is a thing in my family, but it is, and this is. So read and enjoy and go into it knowing that I will accept concrit on anything at all except this, okay? Okay.

( Fucking Delicious Chicken Soup )

Dearest leupagus, this is mostly for you.

( In which hermette and I discuss the Kono/Jenna story I will probably actually write once we get another Jenna ep and I know enough about her to characterize her for real instead of just, uh, making things up based on the 10 minutes we spent with her last night... )

hermette:


gyzym:
GJDSGHDJHFDKG

hermette:
WHAT EVEN IS THAT?

gyzym:
GFVFGFGFGCFGHJIUYTRFGBHJK
A COCK
I DON'T CARE
WHAT IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE
( IT'S A GIANT COCK )

ETA: OH MY GOD wheres_walnut DREW ARTHUR AND EAMES AS OWLS, LIFE DREAM = REALIZED

Pupdate. The good news: she let me get close enough to take a picture this morning!!! Apologies for the shitty iPhone photo quality, but I wasn't about to break out a flash camera and scare her away again.



The bad news: that was this morning. I haven't seen her since I got back from work; I don't know if she's just out for a romp or gone for good, but I left some food out and we'll see if she comes back :( If she doesn't, I think I'm probably going to end up adopting a shelter puppy, because this has awakened a desire in me, I don't even. Animals need rescuing, and it's not that I didn't know that--I did! I do!--but I guess I'd just never...I don't know. /ramble

And, because people have been asking for it, a photo of Jerry, complete with the bone I had to give him to make him quit it with the live-action reenactment of this scene from Family Guy. I have no excuse for the shitty quality here, except that I didn't feel like going to get a proper camera and he wouldn't quit moving for anything.



ETA: OH WAIT I HAVE A BETTER PICTURE OF JERRY (kind of) IN MY PHOTOBUCKET, DUH. ( But it's gigantic, so it's under the cut. )

And now, for those of you who aren't reading this journal for today's edition of OMFG Jizz Loves Puppies!!!, here is a Danny/Steve fanmix. I did this one with like, blurbs and shit, but a) you needn't feel compelled to read them and b) if you're not into Hawaii 5-0, all of these songs are awesome in their own right, and you should feel free to listen/download anyway :D That fic I promised is done and beta'd, I just have to run through and do a final check, it'll be up at some point tonight.

Cut for extensive rambling, lyrics, and my patented inability to shut the fuck up about the goddamn Avett Brothers:

( The .zip file name is actually 'I Thought We Were Doing a Thing.' )

For more information, please see Part One.

( Curving Like the Ocean Toward You [2/2] )

I TOLD YOU GUYS THERE WOULD BE FIC TODAY.

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

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

IN ANY CASE: THANK YOU, hermette. PLEASE ACCEPT THIS NONSENSE AS A TOKEN OF MY LOVE.

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

( bring you out under this flooded sky at any price )