That’s all I’m interested in.

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Thailand
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Canada
seen from Thailand

seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from France

seen from China

seen from Angola
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from China
That’s all I’m interested in.

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𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇, trying to convince himself more than her that he isn’t half as terrible of a husband than he believes to be. This time, the kitchen remains untouched. It didn’t feel like the usual fights either, didn’t even feel like a fight at all ―― something about the WAY she said it, something about the sincerity in her eyes when she’d suggested that this was broken, that they were broken, felt more like a death sentence than the CONTRACTS he’d lived by ever had. Thumbs are fiddling while he waits for the click of keys to be replaced by the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching, jaw slack and tense at the same time, and for a moment he considers his options. Leaving now, that’s doable. That’s realistic. Telling her about everything, hoping she trusts him enough to believe him, and escaping Reddington. That’s irrational and laughable and the consideration of it entirely GONE when he hears her walk into the living room. He looks up, brows furrowed. Silence, dreadful and heavy. Then he clasps his hands together and slowly but surely gets up.
“ About what you said yesterday… ” he begins but then purses his lips, rubs the back of his neck. Can he really save this? Is he really ARROGANT enough to believe that there’s any place on this godforsaken world where they can buy a small piece of land and raise children, like they’re normal people? Like he isn’t a liar and she isn’t the offspring of a notorious KGB agent? But then he looks at her and it’s Liz. He knows it’s a game that he cannot win, but he cannot simply surrender either. It’s her. If he’s ever believed in something, it’s her. Hands are pushed into the pockets of his jeans, a few steps taken forward. “ Listen, Liz… I know you’re stressed because of your job and I know that things haven’t been perfect in the past few months. But maybe we just need a short vacation, away from here, to think about all of this. You know I’m with you, regardless how you decide ―― but I can’t stop thinking about our daughter and that she’s waiting for us. And I don’t know how I’m gonna… stop. ”
@fierceminded, plotted!
@fierceminded said : 💬
“if you leave now, you get nothing.”
all the favors in the world cannot possibly equal what you took away from her. everything else is just a nice gesture. an exploration of the nbc’s blacklist, including pre-series content. as written by : romy, lea, and lyn.
@fierceminded sent, I’m glad you were here today. ―― lost in space sentence starters, accepting.
𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 when Tom allows his weight to sink onto the couch, the light dim and warm ―― and safe. The bruises on his shoulder have been tended to, his muscles a little sore; but for a split moment, NORMALCY is reflected in the ease of the situation. The suggestion of moving to Boston still lingers in the air. It’d be nice, he thinks, it’d be less dangerous. Grin spreads across his features and wrinkles the corners of his eyes. “ Oh come on, I wouldn’t have bailed on the one woman who could easily make my life a living hell. ” It’s in jesting manner and she looks so BEAUTIFUL, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Radiant, somehow―― – and it’s like every fibre of him has mirror it, is finally allowed to breathe. “ How about we order Chinese? To celebrate you not getting killed on duty? ”

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@fierceminded sent, So you’re finally filing for divorce? ―― lost in space sentence starters, accepting.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍: this out of all his decisions, she could have anticipated. Sometimes he still finds himself staring at his hands, palm rubbing across a thumb ―― he had never taken her for a violent person, never quite so easy to switch off the WARMTH. And it should have disillusioned him, should have persuaded him that he’d gotten off track. It didn’t. He loves her, more now than ever before. The papers are slid across the table. The locks to the house have been replaced, could have broken in he supposes, but part of him wants to see her one last time ―― and they had their last anniversary here, in this café. She wore RED, he still remembers. “ It’s what you want, ” he says. He’s already signed it, the message is clear: she can toss it, refuse it, but their marriage is over. It never had begun in the first place. “ Freedom, Liz. Maybe you’ll trust me again someday, but until then we can stop pretending. ”
@fierceminded:
#lyn… question 4 u #do you LIKE hurting me or what?
‘ why don’t you take a seat? ’ as they cross the doorway into the conference room, he motions to one of three pulled out chairs with the file in his hands — they were going to be there for a while. ( given, they didn’t receive anymore calls on the tip line. graves hadn’t gotten a moment of any goddamn peace since he was first handed the case file. ) ‘ that chair’s mighty comfortable. ’ / @fierceminded — sc.