#I really do feel they should have opened with the coffin factory because it just is shit you can't make up

[bleedingcoffee42]

Bob Bible 1/4

[chazukekani]

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Here comes the summary of Code:02 (chapter 2) of Stormbringer. Enjoy!

p.s. Please beware that it was just a summary so some part is skipped.

Recap: The flags were dead.

Adam was walking on the street. He was holding a big bag in front of his body. What's inside were chocolate, hard candy and gummy bear. Adam bought it all for Chuuya because he knew humans need sugar in order to live and to stay happier.

'Good morning!' Adam shouted. He was in a church with a hundred participants. Youth choir was singing hymns and attendants were all wearing black clothings.

It was a funeral, with five coffins placed in the center.

'Chuuya-san, I am here to pick you up,' Adam said.

'Quiet! The funeral is in progress!' Chuuya said impatiently.

'There is some new information about Verlaine,' Adam replied.

Hence, shortly after, Chuuya followed Adam to go somewhere else which was quite far away from the church. Adam asked for Chuuya's permission to override his own command authority. By command authority, Adam explained that this was something written into his system, where he had an order of priority of certain people that he could listen to their commands. The first priority was always following the command of the investigation authority, and the second is Dr. Wollstonecraft. However, Adam wanted Chuuya to be the first priority for now.

Chuuya agreed, and the priority was then alternated, which Adam now called Chuuya as Chuuya-sama. The teen was slightly embarrassed by the new title.

'Can you change the way of how you call me?' asked Chuuya.

'Yes I can. This is just my default,' Adam answered, 'But you will no longer be my first priority.'

'What? That's so annoying. Nevermind then. Don't you have something about Verlaine to tell me?' said Chuuya.

'Yes I do. But may I take a gum before I do that?' Adam said. The robot seemed to like gum very much.

Adam pointed out that Verlaine probably hired a third party to assist him entering Japan. There were only very few illegal smuggling services which were not under the control of the Port Mafia, so it was actually fairly easy to find out which organisation helped Verlaine. Adam said he hacked the database of the police authority, and found the exact personnel who was hired by Verlaine.

'I am glad to know that you can actually do something,' Chuuya mocked.

Apart from hiring people to provide assistance on smuggling, Adam pointed out that Verlaine also asked those people to order three things for him.' The first one is four branches of white birch. Adam explained that there was also a white birch founded in the billiards bar, so he believed that the birch was actually a signature of Verlaine after completing a murder. Hence, there were supposed to have three birches left. Meanwhile, the other two things were entry licences of a car factory and an old fashioned blue colour flip phone.

'I know where he is,' Chuuya acknowledged something, 'Let's go,'

'Where are we going?' Adam asked.

Chuuya didn't answer. He grabbed Adam's final piece of gum, and put it into the mouth. Chuuya blew a bubble from his mouth, and Adam was shocked.

-

-

Inside the car factory, there was a teen working. He was grabbed by his manager because he wanted to invite him to have a meal after work. However, the teen was then brought to the meeting room. The teen saw someone.

'Chuuya...' the teen spoke.

'Shirase.' said Chuuya

-

-

Chuuya explained himself to Shirase because he knew Shirase was Verlaine's next target. Shirase was the reason why Chuuya joined the Mafia (as recalled from 15 years old). If Shirase was killed, then Chuuya no longer had a reason for staying in the mafia, such that Chuuya could leave with Verlaine.

Chuuya asked Shirase to help him, but Shirase refused because he hated Chuuya, and he did not want to be a bait either. He escaped by riding a bike so Adam and Chuuya chased afterwards. While Shirase was escaping, he was stopped at a police checkpoint.

'Shirase Buichirou! I am going to arrest you for keeping weapons illegally!' A police officer, roughly around his 40s and wearing a dark green outfit, said. Chuuya ran forward because he knew this officer.

'Hey- How are you Chuuya? Did you eat properly?' said the officer, 'You can't grow if you don't eat well.' They chatted as if old friends.

'I suspect you may be the accomplice of Shirase, so please come to the police station with me as well.'

Chuuya suddenly realised that such an arrest was not a coincidence. It was the factory manager who had plotted them.

-

-

Adam, Chuuya and Shirase were all in the police station. Apart from Shirase being detained, the rest of two were staying in the investigation room inside the station.

'Chuuya-sama.'

'...'

'Chuuya-sama.'

'what...'

'It's your turn. Our game of '"Discovery of human's uniqueness".'

Chuuya didn't answer.

'Then it's my turn,' Adam said. 'Hmm, I think what's special with humans is, they will be embarrassed by sounds that were made apart from their voice, such as the groans of their stomach.'

'Huh?' Chuuya was confused.

' "Huh" right? Thanks for responding to me,' said Adam.

The game continues.

'Shall we ban gaming next time?' said Chuuya.

'Is this an order?'

'Yes.'

'Understood, I will no longer play the game of "Discovery of human's uniqueness".' Adam answered.

'Why you look super sad...' Chuuya noticed the disappointment on Adam's face.

Chuuya proceeded to ask whether it was possible for Adam to ask for help from his own organisation, but Adam denied this possibility because the EUROPOLE was bound by a regulation of 'non infringing country's sovereignty' when the organisation was founded in the post-war period, so this strategy didn't work.

-

-

[Change in perspective] Here was an abandoned area, a piece of land that was forgotten by everyone. Different kinds of garbage was thrown here, regardless of transportation container or corpses. In the middle of this area, was where Dazai lived. He's living in a container, with basic furniture such as a fridge, fan, table, chairs and bed equipped, together with a small light bulb.

Suddenly, someone opened the door of the container.

'You are really living in an interesting place, Dazai-kun,' that person greeted, 'My god, why are you living in this place? To avoid tax or something?'

'I am afraid of you, Verlaine-san,' Dazai replied without a single emotion.

'Lie,' said Verlaine, 'I was trying to kill you two days ago, and you didn't feel anything back then.' Verlaine touched some documents on the desk, and those were the top secret of the mafia.

'Two days ago, I didn't kill you because you promised to give me these documents. I don't think you handed me this because you wanted my spare you right?' said Verlaine.

'It's simple,' Dazai said, 'I just want to see the Mafia burns.'

'Why?'

'I'm fed up,' Dazai looked at Verlaine for a second, 'I found nothing after all,' Dazia then murmured to himself.

'I see, I understand what you mean,' Verlaine, 'thanks for your cooperation, Dazai-kun.'

Verlaine flicked a coin, and boom, it exploded. All the surroundings apart from Dazai's container were blown up and gone, and Verlaine was about to leave

'Where are you going?' Dazai asked.

'You should have known right? To the police station,' Verlaine answered.

-

-

Chuuya was called into an investigation room to be questioned by that police officer, his name was Murase. The officer proposed an idea which he could set Shirase free, but in return, Chuuya needed to expose some secrets about the Mafia.

'Are you telling me to betray the Mafia?' said Chuuya.

'Just tell me and I let you and your friend go home,' the police officer was writing his report.

'Give me your pen,' Chuuya said calmly, then wrote 'eat shit' on the signature spot of the report.

-

-

Adam was somewhere near Shirase's detention. He hacked into the database of the police authority, and acquired the detaining number of Shirase, and successfully deceived the guards. Adam found Shirase, and was about to bring him away from the police station, but Shirase didn't look happy at all. Adam told Shirase that there was actually no need for him and Chuuya to protect him, but Chuuya wanted to protect him. Adam explained what happened during one year ago and revealed the reason why Chuuya joined the mafia to Shirase because Chuuya wanted to protect him.

Suddenly, when Adam and Shirase were about to leave, the teen said something.

'You... where have your left leg gone?' said Shirase.

Adam realised that the part beneath his left knee was gone, and he immediately fell down.

'Robot investigator is surely a tough job isn't it?' said by a voice.

'Verlaine...'

Adam could not handle the attack from Verlaine because he was using gravity control which made Adam not able to move.

'Don't... don't come near me!' Shirase was horrified.

'Shirase-kun, I have done research on you. You have known Chuuya for the longest in this city. Shirase-kun, please tell me, how was Chuuya when he was a kid?'

'We are... the founding members of The Sheep... and we thought Chuuya was just an orphan. He was the one who spoke to us first: "What's that brick?" Chuuya said that.'

'It was bread, we answered,' Shirase continued, ' "Do you wanna eat that?" I asked, and he said yes. The moment he wanted to move, and fell down and fainted. He was very thin and almost dead by then. Despite there were some members who objected to my idea , I found some food and water for him and brought him back to The Sheep.'

'You are Chuuya's brother right?' Why do you want to kill me? There was no one apart from me saving your brother! Is this how you return your favour?' Shirase yelled at Verlaine, but he didn't say a word.

'I understood, there is no common sense in this world. I am killed because I saved someone. Now, hurry up and kill me,' said Shirase.

Verlaine stepped forward and walked closer to Shirase. Adam calculated, and deduced that there were 168 possibilities, and among all of them, Shirase would be killed either way. It was impossible that the 169th possibility would occur.

Yet, Chuuya was here and kicked Verlaine off horizontally, and that's the 169th possibility.

A fight broke out between the brothers. Chuuya hit Verlaine harshly and violently, which made Adam think it was probably his first time seeing how a person could beat the assassin king that severely. The wall and the surroundings were destroyed by the battle.

'It has been a while since I last saw my blood,' Verlaine's voice sounds dry.

Chuuya aimed for Verlaine's arm, and punched it. He hit the wall as if touching the water surface and broke through it. That was unbelievable, Adam thought. Outside the wall was the car park of the police station, and Chuuya was hit by a car that was coming for him, and there were more cars incoming. Chuuya finally stopped attacking.

'Chuuya! Are you alright!' someone shouted from the back of the car park, it was Murase officer.

'Officer-san...why are you here? Don't come!' Chuuya yelled.

'Finally you are here,' Verlaine whispered.

Verlaine came forward to Murase-officer and grabbed his neck.

'Stop it!' Chuuya shouted, but it was too late. Murase officer was dead. Adam came forward to the body, and found a cross that was made by white birch. Chuuya was holding the body of the officer, and he found something inside the pocket. It was an old-style blue colour flip phone. That was the exact model that Verlaine acquired before he came to Yokohama.

Chuuya realised, the target of Verlaine was always Murase officer, and never was Shirase.

But why?

-

Code:02 Ended

[thebastardmeteocrusherpilot]

02 and 11

SEND 

02. A memory from your character’s teenage years.

[ warning : Death mention. Long post ] 

[ Read on to find out about Aaron Galaxicos' childhood friends!]

Long ago this scene happens. Far from the modern civilization of Corneria City, where nature still invades around in the city of Green Valley. As it was night, many men and women wore their best coats before entering that gray building, surrounded by withered flowers. The dim lighting outside the room showed that there is a boy leaning against a tree. That boy was just a fifteen year old Aaron Galaxicos.

Many older people told the boy that smoking at his age was not favorable, but the chimpanzee boy always ignored such advice in his rebellious attitude, and he was right there. Smoking a cigarette or two, not wanting to go in and see his mother cry like a little girl. After all, it was a funeral home where guests entered.

While the young man ignored the greetings of his father's friends in his solitude, a young foal, a yellow donkey of about sixteen, dressed in his best mourning clothes, approaches Aaron silently but surely.

"Hello Aaron".

"Hey Bob, did your mommy buy you those clothes like always?" It was a common response from Aaron to deflect the elephant in the room. For many, a cruel response to a friendly greeting, but Bobby knows the boy Galaxicos well.

"Heh! You have caught me again! You always guess, Aaron! " Laugh again three more times. Trying to brighten the moment, but Aaron continues to smoke and without a response from him, Bobby becomes uncomfortable.

The two young men fell into a long silence. He only had a small part of the chimpanzee boy's cigarette left before he finished the cigarette, and without looking at the donkey, he stretches out his hand to offer him some to smoke with the box still full.

"Oh no thanks Aaron! You know my father doesn't like me to smoke! “ And in panic Bobby covers his mouth, his ears drooping from nerves. "Oops, excuse me, Aaron."

“Come on, Bobby, just say what you want to say and go inside with your family. Surely they want their polite son to rub his tears in front of my mother ”.

"Oh ..." Bobby only manages to say that in response. It was all too noticeable that Aaron didn't want any hint of pity from the other families on this cold night. After all, the man inside that coffin was nobody special but Jonathan.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what happened to your father." Without haste and without shame, Bobby already said what he wanted to say.

"No problem. He was going to die at any moment as well.” The foal lowers his ears again at Aaron's cold response.

“Nobody expected it, Aaron. As soon as my father heard that they found your father, uh, dead in the bathroom, he was quite surprised. And also in such a horrible way ... his blood staining the white marble wall ... ”.

"Have you been reading your mystery books again or what?" Aaron stares at the colt roughly.

"yes. Why you ask?".

"Agh! Forget it “ The young chimpanzee throws his cigarette into the garbage can next to him. Settling back in the tree "I've heard the same story over and over again, Bob, and I was hoping you could tell me something else, but you're just like the fools at the funeral."

"Excuse me again, Aaron. But what else can I say at a time like this, and not feel sorry for you and your mother? You have barely had your birthday two weeks ago, and from here I can hear your mother still crying " Bobby slaps his forehead " Oh right, my mother wanted me to give this to you. " He offers a nice bouquet of dahlias to young Galaxicos. Aaron just grabs it without looking at Bobby's face.

"Thank you". Another silent moment between the two once again rules the funeral home garden. Guests keep coming with bouquets of different kinds of flowers with them.

“Another detail I wanted to tell you is that my family and neighbors are also thinking of offering collaborations for you and your mother. I'm sure your father has left money for his life insurance, but just in case, we are always with open arms to help you ”.

"Hm" Galaxicos thinks for a few minutes. Although his father was always very strict about keeping the family money and that it was well paid in the factory, he knew that it would not be enough for the next few months, much less with a teenage son and a widowed woman. "If that is true, then I'd really appreciate that, Bobby. "

Bobby smiles. "Yes! Do not worry! Surely all will go wonderfully! And don't worry so much about your dad's death either! Because we are sure they will find your father's murderer! "

Aaron just rolls his eyes at that positive comment "yes, yes, I know, I know, I know ..." Then suddenly, the young man stops his sarcasm when he hears the last sentence. "wait a minute! Did you say murderer? "

"Y-yes! Or is it not that your father was found dead in a murder case? Bobby lowers his long ears again when he notices Aaron looking at him again, but with a very pouting expression. The situation becomes more uncomfortable for the foal when he feels the young chimpanzee's hairy hand gripping his snout tightly.

"Stupid four-eyed horse with the brain in the ass! No one has killed my father! He died in the bathroom by himself! "

Bobby went into a panic. Unable to speak because of the chimpanzee's strong grip on his snout. "W-what? Has he really done that ?! But your dad- ”Another squeeze on his snout.

"Fool!  It wasn't that either! My father died in the bathroom because the idiot didn't want to pick up a soap on the floor while taking a bath and he tripped over it! "

The awkward aura between the two youths grew again as Aaron yelled out everything he wanted to say. Bobby has no words to say but to turn red from his embarrassment.

"Oh, oh man, I thought it was something else." Uncomfortable. Aaron lies back down in the tree while lighting a new cigarette. The young colt just runs his hands between himself as he thinks of something else to talk about. His embarrassment wouldn't go away, and he just wanted to apologize.

"Sorry-"

Aaron raises his hand in front of the equine's muzzle. “Enough Bobby. You already said a lot ".

Another silent moment. Bobby just stands still as he watches cigarette smoke drift through the air. While savoring the flavor of tobacco, Aaron only concentrates his eyes on the star-painted sky.

"Well, uhm ..." Bobby tries to fit the words in his mind "It must have been your dad's mistake. Even though I don't know, he didn't want to pick up the soap? And why didn't he?

"You know what my father was like, Bobby."

"Hm. I know".

The two boys then stay to watch the stars. At any moment the undertakers would close the coffin and carry the fallen man away to bury him in the garden.

"By the way, why did you think my father was killed?"

It was a quick question that Bobby was scared of. But he didn't feel uncomfortable answering.

"Oh well. Because of how your dad was, I always believed that someone would have a cruel plan with him. But I guess soap was more dangerous for your dad "

"Mhm ..."

Aaron's ear focused on listening as several men cheered their mother into the garden. Emma would surely cry all night, regretting being a single woman now. Although he looked carefree to the guests and to Bobby, the young Galaxicos admitted years later that he felt strange how his life would change on that day. But he would not allow the public to see his feelings, but only to a boy and his cigarettes.

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

11. Describe your character’s childhood friends.

[ Galaxicos has had several friendships in his childhood. They weren't really the best of friends, but they were kids that the little bastard brat could have nice times to have a normal childhood. But if we have to talk about friends, those would be two: Bobby Jones and Lola McGlynn were the best friends of little Aaron Galaxicos since elementary school.

Bobby (Sometimes called Bob by Aaron) met Aaron when his family moved next door to the Galaxicos house. At first the little chimpanzee boy does not like Bobby's polite personality when he meddles in his antics, but noticing the foal's intelligence to create new jokes and games, Aaron decides that he and Bobby should be friends. Aaron's father would also accept his son's relationship with the little donkey boy, despite not having a good image of the boy because of his unmanly personality and being that kind of animal.

Their relationship was difficult at first, but Aaron would learn to appreciate Bobby's caring help even as a teenager. And when Aaron decides to become a rebellious kid in Green Valley, he invites (or actually forces) Bobby to join his little gang as the brain of the group.

I designed Bobby (in his child and adolescent version) mainly inspired by the idea that he looks like a nerdy cliche boy with a submissive personality in his eyes. Clearly the first character that came to mind in its development was Milhouse Van Hounten from The Simpsons.

Lola McGlynn would be Aaron Galaxicos' second best friend. Raised to be the perfect Green Valley model girl, little Lola found no real fun around girls her age. One day, Lola finds Aaron and Bobby doing their thing, and noting that the boys had fun being rebellious with the strict adults of the city, she prefers to join them to the horror of the other girls, although she only does it at first for own fun. Unlike Bobby who sees Aaron as a good friend, Lola and Aaron had frequent fights over how to develop the pranks or who is in charge. It was also because Aaron still treats Lola with "boy vs girl" eyes at their age. 

(By the way, her hairstyle is based on the character Quino’s Mafalda on her child age ).

When Lola turns fifteen, and even being raised with the idea of ​​being a model lady for her family, the chimpanzee girl reunites with Aaron and Bobby in their gang of rebellious youths. To save herself from the punishment of her parents and the sexist society of the Green Valley men, Lola would dress as a boy and call herself Lolo standing next to Aaron and Bobby.

Lola is a character with a strong character like Aaron Galaxicos. Willing to commit mischief or rebellion for her own pleasure, and to have no problem fighting against the old fools of the town or with other boys her age. The big difference between Lola and Aaron is that she has her limits and rules, and one of those is not letting her own feelings guide her and committing a cruel or strong crime against someone. It is Lola who actually stops Galaxicos when the young rebel wants to commit a dangerous attack on someone, or act disrespectful to her. That is why even the two continue to have fights since they were young, it is even Lola who decides to tell Aaron to his face many times that he is a horrible person.

The end of the friendship between the Green Valley gang happens when, being of legal age, Bobby decides to move to Corneria City to pursue a professional career (although he promises to continue speaking from the camera in his apartment). Lola and Aaron would continue to see each other and get together on special occasions or when possible, but in the end, they each take a different direction in their life. Aaron would leave Green Valley at age twenty-three for Corneria City while Lola remains in the country town. ]

[trompe-la-mort]

Los miserables, 1971 – “Holy Hugo, they included ‘insert rare scene here’!”

Wrote this a while ago and realised I never posted it. So here goes.

Do you have a favourite obscure scene or detail in Les misérables that hardly ever makes the cut in screen adaptations? If you do, this might just be the adaptation for you. If you want to see an adaptation that tells the story well, however, this is not for you.

It's a nineteen-part (coincidence? I think not...) TV adaptation by the Spanish channel RTVE within its show “Novela”, a show of multiple literature adaptations that ran for fifteen years in total!

And the best part: You can see it all online on RTVE's webpage: http://www.rtve.es/alacarta/videos/los-miserables/

You can skip all episodes with mod 5 = 1 (except the first one), those are the episodes originally shown on Mondays, recapping what happened last week.

Like the Italian TV adaptation, this is unfortunately hindered by its budget. Unlike the Italian TV adaptation, this has the additional problem of its screenwriter's frankly bizarre understanding of concepts such as “pacing” and “importance”.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think it's rather cool to have an adaptation that includes many of the more obscure scenes, but I know the book and I know the context for all of these. I think asking how much sense the plot actually makes to someone who only knows this adaptation is a legitimate question.

Time is “wasted” on montages, dream-sequences and scenes of characters tossing and turning in bed, all of them many times longer than they have any right to be. Partially, it feels like the screenwriter couldn't decide which plot details to include and then just tried to incorporate as many of them as possible – continuity be damned. As an example, he took the time to include Mabeuf's death at the barricade, but it doesn't mean anything, since it happens to a character we have never seen before. Because Mabeuf's entire background is missing. To top it off, the watching students call him “le conventionel”, probably just to tick another box on the check list. To get another time saver, “show, don't tell” is occasionally blatantly violated. We get Valjean's entire history from him telling his life story to the bishop. The backstory of Marius and Gillenormand is conveyed in their fight before Marius leaves, meaning all the info is solely for the benefit of the audience, because all characters involved already know this stuff. Yet, bizarrely, they occasionally have time for a “show” where none would have been necessary. We get a far too long montage of Fantine with Cosette in Paris, that includes Fantine getting fired from her old job. Honestly, you can cover the question of why Fantine leaves Paris with a single line – you know, like it's done in the original?

I wouldn't usually mind, but it not only messes up the pacing, but it also takes up time that could have been used to flesh out some of the details. Or even some of the main plot points. We have Marius letting Thénardier go at the end, but Marius doesn't owe him a debt in this one. It might have made the Gorbeau robbery easier, but at the end, Marius has no real reason to not call the police. That is, if Thénardier is even a prison escapee. It's never shown nor mentioned how he got out of prison after the Gorbeau house robbery. On a smaller scale, it leads to a few bizarre moments, where introductions or transitions are missing, as if someone was trying to cut the corners wherever possible. For example, one episode starts with Marius' and Gillenormand's fight, without any introduction to their conflict or any real introduction of the characters (apart from Marius being the cute boy from the park). Or take the Champmathieu trial. The prosecutor asks for the witnesses to be heard and the very next moment, the judge is already questioning Brevet. No scene of the witnesses entering the room or at least the camera pointing out that they've been there all the time (because I definitely missed that in the overhead shots of the fairly small courtroom set); no scene of the judge calling the first witness, which becomes even worse when he does it to every subsequent witness.

Between this kind of overly short editing and long, drawn-out scenes of Marius healing (which commits the additional cardinal sin of making us think that it's finally over with a short conversation, only to continue for another minute or so) or of Fantine tossing on her bed (which we only later realise is prossibly Cosette's birth!), it feels a bit like there were too many people involved and no two of them could disagree over the tone and style of this adaptation.

I have another, if slightly petty, complaint: Why do the opening credits contain pictures of scenes we never get to see? It makes it pretty hard to identify which actor played which character and it also made it look they would include scenes that end up not being there. From the credits, you could be forgiven for thinking that there are scenes in Toulon, that Valjean's sister shows up or that they include the scene where Éponine stops Patron-Minette from robbing the house in the Rue Plumet. None of these actually happen.

Just to finish my list of complaints about this adaptation, let me talk about Javert. Now, I like the basic idea of what they did with the character, if only because it is the opposite to what most other adaptations do. In many adaptations, Javert is portrayed as a far more villainous character than in the book. These guys went the opposite way. Javert is calm and polite most of the time (making his one outburst when he arrests Valjean even more meaningful) and in one scene seems concerned about Fantine's safety (while she's still employed at Madeleine's factory that is), when he meets her in a disreputable part of town after dark and insists on accompanying her to her destination. Yes, it's later made clear that he still uses this to find out what she was doing there in the first place and this is what kicks off the chain of events leading to Mme Victurnien finding out about Cosette, but the two scenes taken together imply that Javert is both caring about the safety of an innocent civilian and spying on said civilian, just in case they're not as innocent as they seem to be. If they had done it like this throughout the movie I wouldn't be complaining.

Yet, it also means they had Javert come up to Madeleine, stating that he is happy to be the first to congratulate him about his appointment as mayor. It makes Javert's later resentment of Madeleine seem quite petty. Or the end of the “Confrontation”, where Javert, rather than leading Valjean out  of the room, just makes a hand gesture to ask him to step out. Which again could have worked, but then he would have had to stay polite for all of the scene. Which he didn’t. They also decided not to stick to it for the entirety of the series. The portrayal of Javert in the later parts is more “traditional”, so to speak.

The acting is solid, for the most part, but hardly ever outstanding, although I’m likely not the best judge. Valjean's acting is fairly, occasionally too, subtle and he's a bit too calm for my taste in his entire encounter with the bishop. The actor, Pepe Calvo, is better known for his work in spaghetti western movies and I've by now realised that the reason he seemed familiar to me from the beginning is because of the western “Dead Men Ride” which I saw as a child, in which he plays a Myriel-like character of all things. I've described my thoughts on Javert, but I think that is due to decisions by the director and the scriptwriter, not the actor. Fantine has an annoying tendency to overact, especially in the later parts of her appearance. Cosette, fortunately not played by the same actress, is a bit boring. Little Cosette, however, does outstanding work for a child actress. Both Thénardiers are decent; they went the “Mme Thénardier needs to look sufficiently trustworthy for Fantine to leave her child with her”-route and she doesn't quite manage to be as scary as she should be. Everybody else is rather unremarkable.

Oh, and while we're at it: If you cast as Cosette an actress who actually looks like a teenager and as Marius an actor who might be in his early thirties, you need to specify that Marius is only a few years older than Cosette. Please!

But now to what I like about this adaptation: It's occasionally insane attention to details.

I've complained about the over-abundance of dream-sequences, but some of them really work. Showing one of Cosette's daydreams explains her life, character and dreams much better than any number of “real” scenes could have. Even more awesome is the inclusion of Valjean's dream before the Champmathieu trial. I mean, “Tempête sous un crâne” is usually going to be a weird scene anyway, you might just replace it with a weird dream while you're at it. Also, holy shit, they included Valjean's dream! That's a definite first.

Here's a list of further uncommon scenes this movie has: -Valjean steals Petit-Gervais's coin, although he does it before meeting the bishop -The bishop gets some exposition. It's only done in two conversations with his sister and Mme Magloire, but it's there -The scene of Tholomyès and Co. dumping the girls -A meeting of the Amis verbatim from the book -Gillenormand believes Marius to be dead and faints when Marius opens his eyes.

And here's a list of crazily uncommon scenes this movie has: -Fantine's meeting with the Thénardiers includes the girls using a cart chain as a swing -Details about work in the jet factory -Fantine thinks she hears Cosette outside the hospital -Cosette lying about watering the guest's horse -The coffin-escape! In full, glorious length and details. -Javert has a letter from the prefect in his pocket -Marius' note to identify his corpse -Escaping from the barricade in National Guard uniforms (although Valjean doesn't put in the one he is currently wearing) -Valjean writes the letter explaining to Cosette the origins of his fortune

Also, the ending is really well done. I really recommend you watch it for yourself, I don't think describing it can do it justice.

Generally, avoid this for a first look at Les Mis, but for a fan this is an interesting adaptation to watch and I suggest you give at least some parts a look, if only for the novelty.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG138! /o/

- ………………… It’s Holy Shit Smirke What The Fuck time, and I feel obligated to mention in preamble that: yes, I do get one of the points of his statement – that he lacked… flexibility and that it impacted his understanding of the Fears; that he associated them with a neat categorisation, with places, with stone and concrete and stable, fixed monumentality (“And if, as I came to believe, the Dread Powers were themselves places of a sort, then surely with the right space, the right architecture, they could be contained. Channelled. Harnessed.”) when they’re actually mutable, can express themselves in an infinity of ways, and that Smirke’s ~taxonomy~ was far from perfect, probably too tainted by his preconceptions and associations with tangible places to work for long after a few decades of illusion; that, in the end, Robert Smirke died as an old man unable to admit the flaws in his work (“Would you have me separate The Corruption between insects, dirt and disease? To, to divide the fungal bloom from the maggot? No. No, I… stand by my work.”), ready to blame others than him or his own community for their sufferings (“No; I feel certain they were bought into existence by some ancient civilisation, some… foolish tribe from pre-history.”). Leitner (!) (yes, “!”: Leitner, being right about something, I know. Incredible.) and Gerry had actually warned about describing the Fears with such neat separations:

(MAG080) LEITNER: I told you it was an unhelpful analogy. Let’s try another one. Um… Imagine, you are an ant, and you have never before seen a human. Then one day, into your colony, a huge fingernail is thrust, scraping and digging. You flee to another entrance, only to be confronted by a staring eye gazing at you. You climb to the top, trying to find escape and, above you, can see the vast dark shadow of a boot falling upon you. Would that ant be able to construct these things into the form of a single human being? Or would it believe itself to be under attack by three different, equally terrible, but very distinct assailants?

(MAG111) GERRY: […] And when our fears change, so do these things. But it’s not quick. Gertrude reckons they’ve basically been the same since the Industrial Revolution. She and my mum both liked to follow Smirke’s list of fourteen. ARCHIVIST: [DISBELIEVINGLY] Th– I mean, there are a lot more than fourteen things to be afraid of in the world. Where do you draw the line? GERRY: Hmmm. I always think it helps to imagine them like colours. The edges bleed together, and you can talk about little differences: “oh, that’s indigo, that’s more lilac”, but they’re both purple. I mean, I guess there are technically infinite colours, but you group them together into a few big ones. A lot of it’s kind of arbitrary. […] And like colours, some of these powers, they feed into or balance each other. Some really clash, and you just can’t put them together. I mean, you could see them all as just one thing, I guess, but it would be pretty much meaningless, y’know, like… like trying to describe a… shirt by talking about the concept of colour. O–Of course, with these things it’s not a simple spectrum, y’know, it’s more like– ARCHIVIST: An infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once. GERRY: Now you’re getting it. ARCHIVIST: Like colours, but if colours hated me.

Sounds like the Fears are… part of a whole, and that “infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once” might still be the most Accurate Description for… whatever they are.

But I’m also an utter fool who likes neat categorisations for these concepts so YES, I acknowledge that Jonny is calling us out on trying to put labels on everything that happens in the series and on trying to make occurrences fit into the list we were given in MAG111, but suddenly I can’t read / HOW ABOUT I DO IT ~ANYWAY~. :w

- Obligatory tears because: Tim, disillusioned at the end of season 3, had reached the conclusions about Smirke’s work that Smirke himself half-admitted here (back-and-forth between admitting that he had been wrong and ~standing by his work~):

(MAG117) TIM: […] You know, for the longest time I thought the secret was in balance…! In some… dusty old architect’s work on symmetry. [SCOFF] But he failed, didn’t he? What was he even trying to achieve? He’d lived like anyone else, he… died like anyone else. Whatever he was looking for, in his “Balance and Fear”? I don’t think he found it.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been blessed with a long life, something few who crossed paths with the Dread Powers can boast, but now… at the end of it, my true fear is that I have wasted it, chasing an impossible dream. To speak plain, I have begun to lose faith in the possibility of Balance. Of any sort of equilibrium among them.”

And look, yes, I know, I should be terrorised that Smirke’s shiny system wasn’t so great and functioning after all… but I’m mostly SAD, because Tim had spent the last three-to-four years of his life trying to understand Smirke’s work, and had concluded that it wasn’t working. And he was right. (And then he died, too.)

- So we’re getting a new designation for the Fears: the “Dread Powers”, which, yeah, what it says on the tin, neat!

- Smirke’s words and his influence on current characters localised in London puts me to mind again that… how come that some people apparently knew what the rituals would do to our world? How can they know of the result, since no ritual has succeeded so far?

(MAG092) ELIAS: These things that touch us, they… don’t have a form of the sort that could exist in physical reality. So the Stranger wishes to remake that physical reality into something closer to itself. It wants to make this world its own.

(MAG111) ARCHIVIST: No, I don’t have time. Tell me about the rituals. GERRY: Well, they all have one. Most of them, anyway. Takes centuries to build up to a level of power where they can try it, and if they fail, it’s back to square one. ARCHIVIST: Okay, but what do the rituals do? GERRY : They… kind of “shift” the world, just enough for the Power to come through. Merge with reality. Some say, or well, they guess, that it could bring other entities through with them. I mean, I doubt The Buried would be bringing through The Vast, but you know. ARCHIVIST : But what does that actually mean. F–for the world? “Merging with reality”? GERRY: […] right now all the entities have to act like a hunter, they pick off the weak ones around the edges, the ones that wander to close, and the rest of the time they have to just graze on whatever fear we all passively give away. ARCHIVIST : And if one of the rituals succeeds? GERRY : The world becomes a factory farm.

So this might be what Smirke theorised himself, notably on the idea that Powers had allies and opposites:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Fourteen Powers, with their opposites and their allies, each with an aim no more no less than manifestation. Apocalypse. Apotheosis. I wonder: did my work bring about these Dreadful things, or… did I simply develop the means by which they can be known…?”

And we saw through The Hunt (or… the essence of the hunt) that its goal is not to manifest, since it revels in the chase and the pursuit – not in getting the prey. Though Smirke might have given inspiration to humans touched by the powers, to organise their activities around circumstantial allies (or allies by nature) and enemies? There might still have been a bit of truth to it, since Gertrude did manage to neutralise The Buried’s ritual with the body of Vast-touched Jan Kilbride… So, to what extent was Smirke, in the end, spot-on, and to what extent did he over-systemise something that was filled with irregularities and particularities?

(- I wonder if the ideas of what the world WOULD look like if one of the rituals succeeded weren’t due to… the Fears-touched dreams? There is definitely something too suspicious about “dreams” overall in this series – I assumed for long that it was a case of “well, of course, if you experience a terrifying thing, your subconscious with get plagued with it and you’ll have nightmares related to this” for a lot of them, independently from Jon’s Archivist-induced dreams. But Smirke revealed that he had initially begun his work influenced by the dreams he had:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Did I ever tell you about the dreams? I’m sure I must have. I would dream about them, you see, as a young man, long before I devised my taxonomy. I would find myself in nightmares of strange, far-off places: a field of graves; a grasping tunnel; an abattoir, knee-deep in pigs’ blood. I believed then, as I still believe now, that these places I saw were the Powers themselves, expressed in their truest form, far more entirely than any “secret book” can claim.”

And we’ve had various cases of dreams being more spooky than “regular” ones: Oliver began to see the veins in his dreams (MAG011, MAG121), Robert E. Geiger was only able to hear Stefan Brotchen’s last words in his dreams (MAG099), Annabelle had started to get dreams involving spiders despite being unaware of the nature of the experiments (MAG069), Carter Chilcott had been dreaming of “floating through ancient graveyards or the open, empty sea” while on the Daedalus (MAG057), Joshua Gillespie dreamed of asphyxiating despite the coffin itself not giving him any such experience while he was awake (MAG002)… Is it possible that people are more sensitive to the Fears in their dreams, since dreams are a bit more in the Fears’ territory (Jonny mentioned, iirc, that they behave on “dream-logic”)? Is that how Garland Hillier saw The Extinction coming, too: due to his dreams?)

- Alright: sudden information that Smirke APPARENTLY HELPED THEORISE THE RITUALS??? HOLY MEW????

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “So many have abandoned us, casting about for rituals that I helped design. In my excited discussions with Mr. Rayner, I… perhaps extrapolated too much from his talk of a “Grand Ritual” of darkness. The Dark, I thought, was simply one of the Powers so, it stands to reason that each of them should have its own ritual. Perhaps they already did, even before I put pen to paper. They certainly do now, and I shudder to think how Lukas, Scott and the others may use this conception.”

So, to break this down: it seems like Maxwell Rayner agreed to discuss with Smirke about what he identified as The Dark’s ritual, and Smirke guessed from there that the other Fears that he had isolated probably had (or should have) their own rituals, and worked on theorising them? Basira herself had noticed that Natalie Ennis’s words reported in MAG025’s statement (“She said that they were all going, that 300 years was a long time to wait, but she was lucky to have found it so close to the end.”) matched with two solar eclipses happening in Ny-Ålesund (MAG108: “And when Natalie Ennis talked about it being 300 years ago, well. How much do you know about the relationship between Edmond Halley and John Flamsteed?” “What, Halley like the comet?” “Exactly.”); Basira might have been spot-on on the idea that The Dark is quite… regular and organized around these eclipses? Or at the very least, that The Dark was aware of its opportunities to reshape the world.

And Smirke hypothesises that a few other people might have taken inspiration from it, some of them also part of Jonah Magnus’s own circle (so they were probably all mutual acquaintances, at the very least, as people that Smirke had “brought into [his] confidence”?):

* “Mr. Rayner” (The Dark): unless twist, Maxwell Rayner himself, and Smirke had abundantly talked with him, apparently. No mention on whether Jonah knew him too (except if the Elias-is-Jonah theory turns out to be an actual thing, since Maxwell was revealed to have been a ~friend~ of the Head of the Institute in MAG135), but Dr. Algernon Moss, in a statement given May 14th 1864, had reported on his encounter with Maxwell Rayner who was already well-known at the time (MAG098).

* “Scott” (The Buried): likely referring to George Gilbert Scott (MAG050), who had been under Henry Roberts’s tutelage, who had himself been one of Smirke’s disciples. Sampson Kempthorne, the author of the letter to Jonah, briefly employed Scott in 1834 (historical fact) and noted that he tended to design claustrophobic places. Scott had been said to have “also received certain architectural tutelages from Sir Robert himself”, and during a reception, Smirke had explained to Kempthorne that Scott hadn’t really understood his lessons about “balance” and that Kempthorne had dodged a bullet getting rid of him. Sampson Kempthorne wrote his letter on June 12th 1841, was in good terms with Jonah Magnus but not really an intimate of Smirke himself (he wasn’t into ~the confidence~).

* “Lukas” (The Lonely): we know from Barnabas Bennett’s letter to Jonah Magnus, dated April 9th 1824, that Jonah had warned him to avoid Mordechai Lukas and was himself on “good terms” with him according to Elias (MAG092). Smirke could be referring to Mordechai or another from the family – since, at least, it seems like the ties between the Lukases and the Magnus Institute remained strong over time, with the Lukases being current sugar daddies patrons of the Institute (MAG017, MAG033) and Elias knowing ~Peter~ personally.

So that’s indeed quite a peculiar society of people in the know about the ~Dread Powers~. Given that Maxwell Rayner gave information to Smirke about The Dark’s “Grand Ritual”, and that Mordechai Lukas was already… powerful enough by himself to punish Barnabas in 1824, it doesn’t look like Robert Smirke “converted” all of the people surrounding him, but that he got acquainted with a few people who already had their own knowledge? Not sure about George Gilbert Scott, though – it seems like this one learned Smirke’s principles and ran away with them, serving The Buried.

In the same way, it really feels like Smirke might have exaggerated his role in organising the rituals? The Dark has its own already; we know that the previous attempt to bring The Stranger through took place in the Court Theatre of Buda in October 1787 (statement given by Abraham Janssen in MAG116), when Smirke was… a young kid. There was also some suspicion about the ~Archives~ under Alexandria, which were attacked by what looked like a Dark faction in AD 391, perhaps to stop an attempt by the Beholding (MAG053). According to Peter Lukas, The End and The Web have never been interested in setting up their ritual (MAG134), and Daisy&Jon guessed that The Hunt doesn’t want to reach its culmination (MAG133), even though some Hunters were seeking it. It doesn’t seem like Smirke created the principles that guide rituals, more that he himself didn’t have any information about attempts by other factions than The Dark? But he apparently wrote… guidelines (/wild-mass guessing essays) about others, and feared, towards the end of his life, how they could be misused.

Smirke, why the FUCK did you do that in the first place, OF COURSE IT WOULD GET MISUSED………….. (Though, it’s easy to see how something meant to protect could serve nefarious purpose. Explain in details how fire works, in order to save lives during a housefire, and one pyromaniac could still twist the principles to achieve more damage…)

Smirke specifically said that he “put pen to paper” so, unless it was an exaggeration… there might be a Robert Smirke essay somewhere about his ideas of the Fears’ rituals, whether they’re concrete guidelines or more general principles. The question is: where, and is it actually “worth” something, either to construct the rituals or to stop them? Did Gertrude have access to it? … is it in Elias’s safe? (Or is it… absolutely useless and off-the-mark, and Smirke feared for nothing because he thought his work a bigger deal than it actually was for the Fears themselves?)

- Amongst the list of people into ~Robert Smirke’s confidence~, what about Henry Roberts? He had trained George Gilbert Scott:

(MAG050, Sampson Kempthorne) “Henry [Roberts] was very effusive about the talents and prospects of young Mr Scott and was at great pains to inform me that his young protégé had also received certain architectural tutelages from Sir Robert himself. He said this with the oddest of looks, as though there was some jolly secret between us. I rather just nodded, as if to say I took his meaning, and he left well enough alone. […] At the mention of the name George Gilbert Scott, Sir Robert’s face flushed suddenly, in a manner not entirely unlike that of his protégé. He asked me what my interest was in Mr Scott, and I told him that he had, until recently, been engaged as my assistant. At this, Sir Robert gave a small laugh of satisfaction and told me I did not realise exactly how lucky an escape I may have had. I asked again what his training had entailed, and Sir Robert stared at me for a silent minute, before he finally nodded his head. “Balance,” he told me. “Equilibrium. […]” Without prompting, his tirade continued, and he talked about George, about shortcuts in symmetry and a patron that the young fool did not understand. I could follow very little of it, and it seems to be decidedly removed from anything that I would consider architecture, but whatever it was that Sir Robert had been teaching George, it appeared the lessons had been put to less noble use than he had intended.”

Both George Gilbert Scott and Henry Roberts historically survived Smirke (dying respectively in 1878 and 1876) – but it seemed that at the time, Henry Roberts knew about the true nature of Smirke’s work, and yet didn’t apparently dedicate himself to one power like Scott apparently did with The Buried…? Did it happen later, or did Henry Roberts totally manage to remain neutral…?

(And I’m HOWLING overall that… I hadn’t noticed, back in MAG050, that. Henry Roberts’s behaviour implied that Robert Smirke was indeed sharing what he knew of the Fears with his private club of acquaintances. I thought he was only training people in his “Balance and Fear” and that they independently happened to discover the powers by themselves. But nope, it’s REALLY all because of Robert Smirke; good job, Bob.)

- A curious detail: Robert Smirke’s death as given in MAG138 does not match the official version in our ~world~: the historical figure died on April 18th, 1867 while Martin reported that the letter he wrote to Jonah was dated February 13th, 1867, and that he died of ~apoplexy~ mid-writing it. That’s two months before his historical death!

(MAG138) MARTIN: Statement of Robert Smirke, taken from a letter to Jonah Magnus, dated 13th of February, 1867. […] Uh… [INHALE] The, hum… The letter ends there. Uh… Ap–apparently Robert Smirke was found collapsed in his study that evening, dead of, uh… [FLIPPING PAPER] Apoplexy.

Buuuut that year (1867) curiously has one matching point of data with the statement previously read by Martin, in MAG134 – it’s the same year Garland Hillier disappeared.

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “Garland Hillier’s final essay, published in 1867 and simply titled “L’Avenir”, “The Future”, was supposedly a rambling and meandering speculation on the end of the human race, influenced by Darwin’s recent publication of The Origin of the Species and his own shattered faith. He posited a future where, far from any glorious or holy revelation or reckoning, a decadent and corrupt humanity was violently and utterly supplanted, and wiped out by a new category of being. One he referred to as “les Héritiers”. “The Inheritors”. He gave no details on how he believed they might look like, or how they might behave, but his predictions for the final days of humanity were unpleasant, and visceral. […] Anyway, the point is that sometime after that essay was published, Garland Hillier disappeared. Exactly when this happened, no one is really sure, but the last records of his existence can be found near the end of 1867.”

I don’t know if the “change” regarding Robert Smirke’s death is simply a matter of authorial self-protection (Magnus Archives is ~an AU~ of our reality, this Robert Smirke is not the same one as the historical figure) or if it is potentially tied to something more tightly knitted (a shift, a rupture between the Magnusverse and our own world? etc.)

At the very least, I *squint* hard at 1867. Were Jonah’s activities tied (from afar or more closely) to Garland Hillier’s own activities? Did Beholding start feeling threatened by the ~prophecy~ announcing the new emergence?

- You, too, get Marked by Beholding and get A Big Giant Eyeball haunting the sky in your dreams, the got-in-contact-with-Magnus trademark:

(MAG120) ELIAS: The Archivist wanders. He is searching, though, for what he does not know. […] All through it, the shadow is above him; the shape that gazes down upon him, bloodshot and unblinking. […] It opens, and he walks slowly down the steps into the earth; but even as it closes above him, the great shadow still Sees him. There is nowhere in this universe that it would not blot out the sky. […] So he watches her, trying in his single-minded focus to ignore the attention of that impossible thing that covers the sky and fixes its gaze on him with such force it would choke him – were he breathing. […] And at last, the Archivist looks up. [STATIC INTENSIFIES] At last, he looks into The Eye that sees all, and knows all, and clutches at the secret terrors of your heart. The Ceaseless Watcher of all that is, and all that was; the voracious, infinite hunger that tears at his soul, invoking him to discover, to observe, to experience all and everything and forever.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been dreaming again, Jonah. The same every night for months, now. I imagine myself a boy again at Aspley. I awake, cold and alone in the dormitory. The sky outside is dark and I see no stars. I light a candle to better see my way, and step down the silent corridor. The masters’ rooms are empty; the fire in the kitchen is dead. Eventually, my steps lead out into the courtyard. It is so quiet that the sound of my feet upon the grass is painful to my ears. I stop, and look up at the sky, that empty black nothing, and I see the edges of the horizon becoming a dull white. I cannot understand what I am looking at. And then the sky… blinks. And I awake.”

(Bob didn’t have it so bad, after all? I mean. At least, his Big Eyeball blinked.)

- Third named mention of “The Watcher’s Crown” in the series! … almost directly answering Jon’s plea to know more about it from last episode:

(MAG111) GERARD: She worked out they’d all be happening quite close together. She’d already been doing it a while, and the Unknowing was the next on her list. That and The Watcher’s Crown. ARCHIVIST: The, the what? GERARD: Uh, the Rite of The Watcher’s Crown. It’s what she called the ritual for the Eye. She didn’t tell me much about that one, just that she knew how to take care of it.

(MAG137) ARCHIVIST: […] What the hell is The Watcher’s Crown? So far the only mention of it I’ve had is from Gerry, and he didn’t seem to know much about what it actually meant. [PAUSE] And he’s gone now. But if it is the grand ritual of Beholding, then I– … I mean… I need to know about it. Right…?

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I am not a fool; I know well enough what this dream is likely to mean, and I warn you again that if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work, to try and wear The Watcher’s Crown, you must abandon them! Not simply for the sake of your own soul, but for that of the world! I have always had the utmost respect for you as a man of dignity, and learning. Do not allow yourself to fall to this madness.”

Interestingly, Smirke presented it like a literal crown that could be worn…? (What is in Elias’s safe.) (Is the crown Fashionable.)

- Take your pick of your Failed-Because-Of-Hubris representative:

(MAG080) LEITNER: And so I branded them with my seal. I told myself that if any should escape such a mark could help me retrieve them. But I think, in my heart, I dreamed of my work becoming known. That “The Library of Jurgen Leitner” would stand as a symbol of courage and protection. Hubris. I suppose it is fitting punishment that my name has become a watchword for evil, spoken by those who only know it as marking the darkest, most terrible of secrets. My name has become a curse.

(MAG111) GERRY: Eventually, I grew old enough and wise enough to see [my mother’s] obsession for what it really was: hubris. She lived her just carefully enough not to be destroyed by things she studied, but that was it. The things out there weren’t like taming fire, they couldn’t be contained or used for light or warmth. The best you could hope for from them, would be that they don’t spot you, and instead my mum chased after them, obsessed with others who had tried to stare at them without being blinded: y’know, Flamsteed, Smirke, Leitner. Idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “You see, Jonah, I feel the hour of my death approaching and, though you have always been reluctant to pay due heed to my warnings or counsel, I continue to see in you the reflection of my own past hubris. […] So yes. Hubris. Not simply in that, I suppose, but in believing that those I brought into my confidence shared my lofty goals. “

I wonder if we’ll hear about John Flamsteed at some point, since Basira had done a bit of research on him by MAG108, too… (Though he lived waaaay before Smirke and Jonah.)

- I’m still not sold on the Jonah Magnus=Elias theory. On the one hand, there are many things indeed reinforcing that possibility: Smirke thought that Jonah had sunken into Beholding and that he planned to launch the Watcher’s Crown. MAG138 casually revealed that Smirke knew “Rayner” and the way he described him implied that Jonah knew him too (there was nothing in MAG098 to confirm or deny that Jonah knew the guy; the statement was even given to the Institute, not to Jonah himself, and we didn’t know if he was still alive at the time (1864) until MAG138). This is coming shortly after MAG135 which… revealed that Elias PERSONALLY knew Maxwell Rayner and was acquainted (?) with him at some point. Robert Smirke was guessing that Jonah was trying to escape death, and there is obviously the question: and if he had succeeded, who and where would he be? There is even the mention that:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man.”

… which (except for the fact that Beholding Never Does Shit) obviously puts Elias to mind because uh, who is well-known for murdering old people? Would Robert Smirke have been voiced by someone from Jonny’s family, too?

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND, every time Elias opens his mouth, I… can’t “read” him as 220+ years old. He’s too shitty? Too petty? Too… not exactly impulsive, but there is always an undercurrent of impatience in him, I feel? I don’t really know how to explain, but I feel like someone much older than “middle-aged” wouldn’t… revel as he does in petty jabs and punchlines, wouldn’t be so intent on getting the last word and on being Verbally Right at every turn?

(But then, that’s one of the main question in this series: what the HECK is Elias, what is his backstory, what are his goals, what even is his ROLE, and what does he know about the Spiders in his Institute.)

- HOWEVER, nervous laughter re: the fear of dying, because hum. Hum. Who does that remind me of.

(MAG080) ELIAS: Well, he was always going to need to fly the nest at some point. Go out and see the world for himself. LEITNER: He might die. ELIAS: It’s always a danger. Almost always.

(MAG121) OLIVER: The thing is, Jon, right now, you have a choice. You’ve put it off for a long time; but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but – still too human to survive. You’re… balanced on an edge, where The End can’t touch you, but you can’t escape Him. I made a choice. We all made choices.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I beg you, do not pursue this goal; if only a single lesson may be gleaned from my life of long study, and longer hardship, it is that the fear of Death is natural, and to flee from it will only bring greater misery. Repent of your sins, Jonah. Seek forgiveness. I am certain the Dread Powers cannot take a soul that keeps faith in the Resurrection.”

Elias had already installed Jonah Magnus as a Role Model for Jon in MAG092 (“Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, John, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are, is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard. This, at least, Gertrude understood.”) and ;; I. Am. Getting the feeling that Jon might be, totally unknowingly, walking in Jonah’s footsteps a bit…? Except for the part where he’d agree to sacrifice people close to him, because Jon’s conscious decisions have been the absolute opposite so far.

- Something heartbreaking to me: the way… information is not being shared, between Martin and Jon – though Martin is apparently planning to let Jon hear Robert Smirke’s statement eventually. Because MAG138 brings another light on Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter and Jon’s own conclusions about Jonah Magnus:

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Hm. “Jonah Magnus”. I’ve never really given much thought to him. Not nearly as much as I should have. I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent, in all this. I know, I know! But I had… [EXHALE] I had just… hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest. And not simply the foundation stone for all the terrible things that have happened here. … But no. Whatever is happening now… has its origins two hundred years ago. In the work of an evil man.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “It is telling that of those I have brought into my confidence, it is only you and I who have continued this far without falling to one Power or another, despite all my instruction and work. This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank. […] I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man. I further find myself supposing that they may emanate from your own intrigues and preparations to culminate those plans which we agreed to abandon so many decades ago! […] The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon.”

Jonathan Fanshawe sent his letter to Jonah in November 21st, 1831: the fair assumption was that Jonah had probably funded the Institute in 1818 as a temple to Beholding? But it seems like it wasn’t the initial goal of the Institute, since Smirke was under the impression that Jonah hadn’t followed the path of Beholding until rather recently (unless Jonah had managed to deceive him all this time?). It could explain the wording used by Breekon to refer to the Institute:

(MAG128, “Breekon”) “That was the first time we saw what would become this place, The Eye’s Pedestal.”

“what WOULD BECOME this place”: not what it WAS already, even though Breekon is talking about their time serving on the Robert Small, around 1853, years after the foundation of the Institute. (Though the concept of the Institute, of Jonah asking all his acquaintances to send him spooky stories, amassing knowledge, threading his map of relationships around spooky people, of trying to know and learn more about it… indeed sounded extremely Beholding in the first place. But it seems like Beholding taking a hold of the Institute was a consequence, and not the initial goal of it – like the Institute wasn’t initially created to serve it?)

In the same way, I had wondered in MAG127 if Jon mightn’t have been wrong to conclude right away, like Jonathan Fanshawe, that Jonah’s goal had been to get rid of Albrecht without any concern for him – there could have been other reasons to take the actual books away from him, especially since they were the ones affecting Albrecht? But hum, alright: even without being a (conscious?) Beholding agent in the 1810s to 1830s, there are many ways to indeed be an “evil man” – Millbank says hi:

(MAG127, Jonathan Fanshawe) “Jonah; I must first and foremost decline your generous offer of a medical position servicing Millbank Penitentiary. While the terms you’ve laid out are no doubt more than adequate, I have, over these last months, come to the unfortunate conclusion that our intimacy and friendship must cease immediately. I do not know what interest you have in the poor condemned souls within those walls, nor do I care to guess. In the light of what I have so recently witnessed, I can no longer in good conscience associate with any of your endeavours.”

(MAG128, “Breekon”) “Poor wretches who emerged from Millbank, with tales of Australia and its cruelty on their lips, bundled into the cramped and creaking ship that would drag them away from everything they loved – and towards everything they feared.”

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “What we built at Millbank should be left well enough alone, resigned to the nightmares of the reprobates and brigands contained within its walls. […] This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank.”

For Breekon to mention that it was an awful place, it must have been REALLY bad, indeed.

And it saddens me to agree with Martin that he… probably wasn’t the right person to read this statement:

(MAG138) MARTIN: I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…!

It’s not even just Jon who was specialising in navigating the tunnels – he was finding his way, but Tim was able to use them pretty efficiently too (MAG114, Jon: “I know there are some exits to the tunnels outside the Institute, so I guessed you were using them to get in and out, avoiding any… tape recorders.”). And there is something that Martin didn’t appear to remember about them, but that he had read himself:

(MAG088, Enrique MacMillan) “so here I came. To tell my story, of course, but another thing as well; cold, empty and calling. There’s something here, you see. Something to be dug up, rooted out, buried within. A hollow space that all eyes point towards. And I intend to reach it, if my fingers don’t give out first. I know where to dig.”

[…] MARTIN: Based on a few scattered notes and accounts from some of the older staff, it sounds like Mr. Macmillan got in a bit of a fight, which led to his arrest, and the replacement of quite a bit of the floor in Jon’s office. There are still a couple of boards with marks on them that I’d always hoped weren’t fingernail scratches, but I guess…

(+ Daisy’s mention to Jon in MAG114 that she didn’t like the tunnels because they felt “empty”, and the fact that… the “DIG” leaked into Jon’s dreams for reasons still unknown, despite Martin having been the one to read that statement.)

Is it the same structure as the tunnels under the Reform Club (MAG035) and St Paul’s Church (MAG063), or are they all separate installations? The ones under the Reform Club were long but looked clearly organised and structured; the one under St-Paul’s Church ended with a wall; and the ones under the Institute had been mentioned to be a veritable maze and… cover a very large area:

(MAG080) LEITNER: Over the years I have found that [this unexpurgated copy of Ruskin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture] interacts with Smirke’s architecture, and those tunnels specifically, in a more predictable way. By carefully reading specific passages in certain locations I am able to exercise… a degree of control over the substance of the tunnels. […] I’ve been in hiding for over twenty years now, ever since my library was destroyed. Obviously I have not spent all that time below your Institute. The old Millbank prison tunnels stretch out a very long way, and there are other entrances than the one below the Archives.

(Leitner even telling Jon that he had made them simpler for him.)

- YOU KNOW WHAT OTHER LINES SHARE THE SAME ENERGY?!

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I wish I could talk it through with Martin. … Or Tim. [SHORT SAD CHUCKLE] Or Sasha. But we never really did that, did we…? … Everything’s changed. … [SIGH] Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired.

(MAG138) MARTIN: Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…! I wish– … No. No, it’s fine, I’m… fine, I… [EXHALE] I can do this.

It’s open to interpretation but I’m really hearing Martin’s “I wish–” as a “I wish Tim was still alive and with us” and AOUCH orz

(I’m… still hoping that we’ll get something from Martin about his own mourning of Tim orz Because that one must have been… so harsh… he was so worried about Sasha’s disappearance in the beginning of season 3, his small voice broke my heart in MAG092 when Elias confirmed that she had died a LONG time ago, and the fact that he had been buddy-buddy with her murderer while Elias was doing nothing about it had been one of the points he threw to Elias’s face in MAG118. And Tim was around even longer, and he experienced so many bad things alongside Tim, and even at his worst, Tim was often mellowing down / a bit more protective of Martin than… anyone else, really, be it in Michael’s corridors or when Tim had explained to Martin that he didn’t think that reading the statements were a good thing? And this despite Tim telling Jon in MAG114 that he didn’t know Martin as well as he knew Sasha, hence the fact he was avoiding him like the others – what does it say about Martin’s relationships with other people… ;;)

- But the “Good luck, Jon, I– … [HUFF] Stay safe.” coming after was absolute Gay Energy, and MARTIN!!!

It feels like the episode was the Perfect Recipe for how to get an episode popular/trending/making people scream: it has MARTIN throughout it, and we’re all thirsty to hear from him! It has Martin being snappy and cunning! Martin’s loyalty towards Jon! A Robert Smirke statement! The relationship between Smirke and Jonah Magnus! New questions about Jonah! More lore with Smirke’s taxonomy from the inside! Beholding statement, with eyes horror! A small mention of Tim! Elias! Elias in prison! Elias FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGING PETER’S EXISTENCE! MORE CHAINS RATTLING AT EVERY TURN! Elias calling Martin out for his manipulative tendencies! Martin using the tape recorders instead of being used by them!

I still feel floored.

- Special bonus for another occurrence of Martin’s “Mm-hMM” when people are telling him something he doesn’t want to hear, and I LOVE HIS CASUAL SNAPPINESS IN SEASON 4…

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: I just… I’m sorry. Basira is off doing… God-knows-what, and I can’t talk to Melanie. MARTIN : Mm-hmm.

(MAG134) PETER: […] And as far as the coffin goes, there’s not much I can do about a bull-headed Archivist who seems hellbent on self-destruction. My powers only extend so far. MARTIN : Mm-hmm.

(MAG138) ELIAS: I am so very pleased to see you. MARTIN: Mm-hmm.

Martin “Mm-hMMm.” Blackwood, ilu.

- The difference between how Elias constantly reminded Jon how he belongs to The Eye, versus Elias’s… apparent uninterest? in Martin’s own alliance to the Lonely is quite… jarring. As for Jon:

(MAG092) ELIAS: [SIGH] What are you? ARCHIVIST: I… The Archivist. ELIAS: Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others. To simply be told, well… ARCHIVIST: It doesn’t please your master? ELIAS: Our master, Jon. […] We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing.

(MAG116) ELIAS: I have been doing my best to prepare you, Jon, to See. You should hopefully have it a bit easier than the others. ARCHIVIST: Another of my… powers? ELIAS: More… an aspect of your becoming. DAISY: You don’t say. ARCHIVIST: Er… right.

(MAG120) ELIAS: [The Eye] stares into him, and it stares out of him, and he is falling into the devouring eternity of its pupil. He wants to cry out in horror, but he cannot. He. is. whole.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. […] If Gertrude had a plan for this one, I haven’t found it, which is why Jon needs to be closer to The Eye. If anyone can stop what’s happening, he can. See through the darkness, etcetera.

With Jon, it’s always been a casually possessive “us”. While Martin…

(MAG138) MARTIN: I think he wants me to join The Lonely. ELIAS: Then it sounds like you have a decision to make. [SILENCE] MARTIN : … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS : That makes two of us. MARTIN: [HUFF] ELIAS : But no. This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap “mindgames”. I simply have to trust that when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever!

… is clearly not getting that.

It’s terrible yet makes so much sense that of all people, Martin would talk to Elias about Peter’s offer, and implicitly seek out… whatever Elias might have to say about it? Elias had been the one to hire Martin in the Institute:

(MAG056) MARTIN: I don’t have a Master’s in parapsychology, I don’t even have a degree. When I was 17, my mom, she… had… she had some problems, and I ended up dropping out of school, t–trying to support us. I tried everything, but no one was hiring. So I… I just kinda started to lie on my applications, sending them out to just about anywhere. For some reason, my lie about parapsychology got me an interview with Elias and, and then a job here. M–most of my employment details are made up, I’m only 29!

… for reasons still unknown – was Elias actually fooled But Would Never Ever Admit It (as of MAG084, at the very least, he knew about Martin’s fake CV (“I mean, that doesn’t actually, er, make her qualified.” “[POINTEDLY] Formal qualifications aren’t everything, Martin.”) but that was long after MAG056 and he could have eavesdropped on that conversation)? Did Elias hire him because Martin was vulnerable and either prone to become canon-fodder or Beholding food, being Full Of Secrets and fearing that they might get discovered? Was there… something else? And in the same way, we’re not sure how Martin ended up working in the Archives – when Tim, in MAG098, pointed out that Jon had asked him to go with him, Martin was curiously silent as if… he couldn’t really say the same. Why is Martin at the Institute? Doesn’t working there for at least nine years mean anything?

I feel like the episode both began with a question (Martin asking where he should stand between The Lonely and The Eye) and ended up with his implicit answer, maybe… after all guided by Elias, when he made a jab at Martin for being into manipulation games too, and for not sharing his information about The Extinction with Jon:

(MAG138) MARTIN: So… so what? What does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new Entities can be born? That there’s some, some kind of… precedent for The Extinction? … Peter? [SILENCE] Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party. […] I don’t know what Peter’s planning, but my–my guess is that it might involve something below the Institute. Hopefully, by the time you get these tapes, I’ll have something more concrete for you. [PAUSE] Good luck, Jon, I– … [HUFF] Stay safe. [CLICK.]

At the end of the episode, Martin’s answer feels twofold: to manipulate, and to choose “Jon”.

Manipulate, because he checked whether Peter was around before revealing that he wasn’t just using the tape recorders because it’s what the archive team does with the statements (MAG134: “I can’t help but notice you’re recording right now?” “It… was a statement, right, that’s what we do.”), but because he’s planning to send information to Jon, through the tape recorders that have always been associated with him (MAG126: “… It’s because he’s back, isn’t it. [SIGH] He’s back, so now you’re going to be… around, again. Listening in. Mff. You missed him, didn’t you. … Yeah. … [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] Yeah, me too.”).

I don’t know if it’s enough to go full Web-aligned, but… it feels like between Eye and Lonely, Martin is actually heading towards a third option? Or maybe a neutral ground, since his loyalty for Jon is bypassing the rest as of now? Elias’s arrest had always been presented as Martin’s plan, it’s logical that Elias would remind Martin of it with such insistence (since he’s still stuck there), but it’s still… stricking:

(MAG113) ARCHIVIST: Martin’s plan is solid. I think. MARTIN: I mean, they might just kill him. MELANIE: Good. ARCHIVIST: I mean, maybe. But… I think they’re still our best chance. Even if we did manage to blindside him, I–I don’t know how long we could… hold him. MARTIN: And, in fairness, he’s happy enough to use the police against us. ARCHIVIST: Quite. And I’d rather not be staring down a kidnapping charge on top of everything–

(MAG114) ARCHIVIST: And Martin… he’s okay with it? DAISY: It was his idea. ARCHIVIST: Yeah. You think it’ll work?

(MAG117) MARTIN: These last couple of years, I’ve always been... running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but… but now it’s my trap. And, well. I think it will work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but… it felt good, weaving my own little web. […] I guess I’m just… sick of sitting on my hands, drinking tea and hoping everyone’s okay. This way I finally get to do something. It’s gonna hurt, but… I’m ready.

(MAG120) ELIAS: I must admit I’m impressed, Martin. I knew you were all planning something, of course, but I didn’t believe you specifically would have the… er, capacity for boldness that you displayed. It took me quite by surprise. MARTIN: You didn’t just see it in me? ELIAS: Honestly, I didn’t look. For all my power, I will admit I am not immune to making the occasional lazy assumption. I presumed that I knew you thoroughly, but by the time you demonstrated otherwise… well. There was simply too much to keep watching over. I only have two eyes, after all.

(MAG138) ELIAS: Besides which, don’t forget I am still living At Her Majesty’s Pleasure, due in no small part to your actions. […] MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us.

(And once again, it is VERY interesting that Elias likened Martin’s depiction of him to Martin himself on the subject of manipulation. Once again: what do you know about the spiders in the Institute and about Jon’s ties with the Web, Elias…)

- It really feels like Martin was Our Protagonist, during this episode? From Jon barely catching him in MAG124, to Martin’s own work alongside Peter at the end of MAG126, to Martin reading a statement in MAG134 to… Martin being the character we follow in different locations in MAG138, getting his point of view (going to see Elias, reading a statement, doing his own follow-up, revealing a bit more of his own agenda).

;;;; I’m still so “!!!” over Elias and Martin being in the same room. Elias was absolutely shitty with him, but at the same time, there is an undercurrent of… honesty? behind their exchanges? Because Martin knows that Elias knows about his relation to Jon and:

(MAG118) ELIAS: [EXASPERATED BREATHING] … Did Jon put you up to this? MARTIN: You think I’m doing this for him? ELIAS: No. It’s just the sort of half-baked scheme he’d come up with. And I’m well aware that you’ll do just about anything for him–   MARTIN: I– ELIAS: –and I don’t need to read your mind for that one. […] MARTIN: Well, I hope you've got something better than that pathetic dig at my feelings for Jon. ELIAS: It’s baffling, really. Such loyalty to someone who really treats you very badly. MARTIN: Oh, is that supposed to be, what, a revelation? ELIAS: [CHUCKLE] You know, I really should have gone for that. Find something that would finally manage to shatter that precious image you have of him.

(MAG138) MARTIN: […] Why am I only hearing about this now, and why doesn’t Jon know?! ELIAS: […] as for our… dear Archivist, I’m afraid I no longer have any real control over what he does or does not know. Unlike yourself! [PAUSE] I notice you haven’t told him either. MARTIN: Yeah. Well. I’m still not sure I really believe it. [EXHALE] A–and, I don’t… I–… I’m, h… ELIAS: Worried he might charge off into another coffin. [SILENCE] … Quite.

… I feel like we always get a glimpse of what Martin isn’t saying, when he speaks to Elias? It’s not the whole picture, it’s not Everything about Martin’s feelings, but there are some bits, some weaknesses that are getting exposed. (And I don’t know if these were Gratuitous Jabs at Martin or if they were meant to get Martin to do exactly the reverse of what Elias was denouncing ;; Because the episode did end with Martin making sure that Jon would know, though indirectly…)

- I’M ABSOLUTELY DDDD: OVER THE FACT THAT

Ahahaha, “This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap ‘mindgames’” says the guy who sent Basira (and potentially Jon) to focus on The Dark and DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE EXTINCTION TO THEM, and, in the meantime, discusses The Extinction with Martin when he brought it on the table and DOESN’T MENTION THE DARK’S ACTIVITIES AT ALL WITH HIM. Guess who is back to manipulating through information: THIS GUY. So, there is definitely an agenda behind it; he’s not seriously concerned by The Dark, isn’t he. It’s just a matter of throwing a bone to Basira and making sure that Jon gets to Experience The Dark, isn’t it.

- On the Relationship Between Elias And The Apocalypse:

(MAG080) LEITNER: The Unknowing. ELIAS: [CHUCKLE] Creativity never was their forte. LEITNER: You of all people should want to stop them. ELIAS: And we will. But I don’t think we’ll need your help.

(MAG092) ELIAS: The Unknowing. I need you to stop it. ARCHIVIST: Again with– What is “The Unknowing”? Exactly. ELIAS: A ritual. The Stranger and its kin attempting to gather power enough to bring it closer.

(MAG102) ELIAS: I should have thought preventing the horrific transformation of our world is not solely my concern!

(MAG126) MARTIN: Yeah. You said. … But if things are really so urgent, then why didn’t Elias say anything? PETER: [LAUGH] Because, behind all his bluster, Elias’s just like all the rest. He’s so preoccupied playing the game he doesn’t pay attention to the big picture. He managed to convince himself that he could get his ritual off first, which would have made all of this a… bit moot, but that’s not really an option anymore.

(MAG135) ELIAS: I have been observing a recent increase in people and supplies being moved to the small town of Ny-Ålesund, in Svalbard. An increase which I believe may be linked to a rather desperate attempt, by the People’s Church of the Divine Host, to perform a crude ritual of their own. To bring their… “Mr. Pitch”… into the world. […] You thought the final death of Maxwell Rayner might have sufficiently derailed them? Yes, that was my hope too, but alas it would seem not. […] I rather feel the real shame would be letting the entire world fall into Darkness because of a single person’s wounded pride. Detective. The stakes are far too high for that kind of… indulgence.

(MAG138) MARTIN: So why haven’t you helped him?! ELIAS: My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated. MARTIN: [UTTER DISBELIEF] Oh, seriously? ELIAS: Seriously.

TECHNICALLY, we only have Peter’s word that Elias wanted to launch ~his ritual~ because Elias was obviously Very Silent on the issue, but. What is your “relationship to the apocalypse”, Elias – is it just a matter of getting it the way you want it, or not at all…?

(In the way he answered Martin, it sounds almost as if he wouldn’t have been against The Extinction wrecking the world, hence his inaction but? He was probably implying that he had other plans to stop it which involved Beholding’s ritual?)

- Regarding Elias’s agenda:

(MAG122) BASIRA: Elias is locked up. […] A bunch of Section��d officers took him in. He made some sort of deal, I think. But… he’s not getting out anytime soon.

(MAG127) ELIAS: Our… arrangement with the Inspector notwithstanding, I… rather feel that right now all the distrust is very much your own. […] I’ve made it clear my cooperation’s contingent on his not seeing me, and my terms have been accepted thus far.

(MAG138) ELIAS: As for why I’ve done so little about such a looming existential threat… to be blunt, I have been rather busy. MARTIN: [BARELY CONTAINED SNORTING CHORTLE]

Was Elias talking about his activities while still running the Institute, or what he’s currently doing in prison? But oh yes:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever! ELIAS: … Just like old times~ MARTIN: I don’t know what I expected. [INHALE] Right. Right, we’re done here.

Elias has always been a Very Busy Person.

- … And Peter Has A Very Busy Social Life apparently, too:

(MAG134) PETER: Right! Then, if you’ll excuse me, I have a family thing to get to. […] Okay! Now, I really am running late, so if you don’t mind?

(MAG138) MARTIN: … Peter? [SILENCE] Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party.

Technically, maybe he’s trying to make Martin feel Very Alone by showing off that he has a lot of things to attend, but still. Does anyone even realise he’s there.

- Have I mentioned that ELIAS FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGED PETER’S EXISTENCE? Incredible, I can’t believe, etc.

And he did it in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY:

(MAG138) ELIAS: Come on, Martin. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Let’s not start with lies. MARTIN: [LOUD SIGH] Fine. ELIAS: I am so very pleased to see you. MARTIN: Mm-hmm. [SILENCE] ELIAS: No time for pleasantries? Very well, then. To business. What can I do for you? Tired of running budgets for Peter? I know I would be.

Absolutely unprompted and to gratuitously complain about Peter – ALSO, L-O-L ELIAS, “let’s not start with lies” but WHO is lying here. We ALL KNOW that you’re dying to do these budgets, that you’re probably doing them in your head a millisecond before Martin by watching him, seething that he’s doing YOUR precious scheduling and budgeting.

And

(MAG138) ELIAS: [INHALE] Everything Peter has told you is true. MARTIN: Oh… ELIAS: For all his… many faults, Peter is legitimately trying to stop the end of the world as we know it.

…………………. Listen. It’s getting harder and harder to keep in minde that they might NOT be marrying/divorcing for the sixth or seventh time. It sounds so much like bitter exes/nagging spouses………………………. And I mean………………… they deserve each other………….?

(Though, if season 4 is any indication: Elias’s true OTP is with hand gestures. He’s getting WORSE and WORSE with the chain rattling sound.)

Title for MAG139 is out and HHHHHHHHHHHHH once again. Immediate thoughts are for AGNES? AGNES? AGNES? PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE? (Reminder that The Desolation still hasn’t gotten a statement in season 4 so far~). Agnes statement from Gertrude’s stash…? (Is there a tape with Agnes’s voice, somewhere?) Or maybe about The Dark’s victims, to keep with the theme; Julia? Julia’s mother?

And second meaning could as well be about Martin, or more likely… Jon, very obviously. I guess ;;

[georgialouisea]

Don’t Know

Pairing - Dean x Reader, Sam, Bobby.

Warnings - Angst, buried alive, blood, claustrophobic situation, asphyxiation,  character death.

Word count - 1866

Square filled - Buried Alive

A/N- Written for @spnangstbingo , I’ve been in an angsty mood lately and I guess it’s kinda showing.

Angst Bingo Masterlist

“So what? It’s burying people alive then eating them?” You asked looking over Dean’s shoulder at his laptop screen, running your hands down his chest you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Seems like it.” Dean’s hands covered yours on his chest. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah, why not let’s go it’s only an hours drive away.”

“Go where?” Sam asked joining you both in the kitchen.

“To find out what’s burying people alive then eating them.” Dean looked up at his brother.

“Ew.” Sam’s nose scrunched up.

“Yep.” You smiled up at him.

“We’ll leave in ten minutes.” Dean patted your hand.

Letting go you stood up watching as Dean stood next to you. “You’re going to be okay on this one? You’re still not one hundred percent.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m better now, I think I am.” Smiling at him your lips met his.

“Must be because you’re kissing me again.” He smirked kissing you again.

“You said ten minutes if you two carry on we’ll never leave.” Sam huffed.

“Shut up Sammy,” Dean growled.

“Listen, I’ll be in the car.” With a sigh, he left you both alone in the kitchen.

“He’s right.” Pulling away from him you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

“Well, he’s in the car … so we’re basically alone.” He grinned at you scooping you up your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips attacking your neck with each step.

-

“Seriously guys?” Sam looked at you as you both climbed into the Impala.

“What?” Dean smirked.

“It’s been nearly an hour.”

“Sorry, Sammy.” Smiling at him you settled into the backseat.

“What can I say she’s hot,” Dean smirked.

“Dean.” You rolled your eyes from the back seat. “Shut up.”

With a grin, he pulled out of the garage and onto the road.

“Are we sure this our thing?” Sam asked pulling off his jacket throwing it onto his bed.

“If it’s not our thing there’s a serial killer cannibal on the loose.” Sitting down on your motel bed you looked up at him.

“That’s not our problem, that’s for the real FBI to deal with.” He sighed running a hand down his face.

“When we’re sure it’s not our thing we’ll back down.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded.

“So what do we know?” Dean sat at the table looking at you and Sam.

“Everyone’s gone missing from around the same place.” Dean opened his laptop.

“The industrial estate.”

“But that whole place was fine today, no EMF, no dodgy dealings nothing.” Dean shrugged.

“Everyone’s gone missing at night,” Sam added. “So we’ll go back tonight.”

“Okay, we go back tonight.”

“Pick a floor.” Dean looked up at the factory.

“Is it really a good idea to split up?��� Sam asked shutting the Impala’s trunk.

“It’ll be quicker.” Dean shrugged.

“Okay.” Nodded you checked your torch was working. “Let’s go.”

-

The factory was quiet only a few emergency light bulbs lit the hallways, creeping silently down the walkway you were scanning the place for anything supernatural or off.

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice called from a particularly dimly lit section of the room.

“Sammy?” You whispered, your flashlight flickered before cutting out.

“I’m down here.” He called out again.

Walking further into the darkness your foot hit something hard, stopping you crouched down, hands reaching out you felt along the unmistakeable flannel-clad chest rising and falling slowly. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you kicked yourself for not thinking of it sooner, shining the light at your feet Sam was unconscious, his face bloody and starting to bruise. “Sa-” As his name left your lips a blow to the temple made you see dancing stars before another made your world turn to black.

-

It was hot, hot and clammy, there was no air in the room. Running your hand across Dean’s chest you patted over his heart feeling him stir slowly. “Baby why is it so hot, open a window.” Your voice cracked.

“Y/N?” Sam asked his body tensing under your weight.

“Sam?” Your eyes opened to see nothing but darkness.

“What the hell is going on?” He whispered.

“Why is it so dark in here? And why the hell are we in bed together?”

“I need you to stay calm, can you do that?”

“Sam, I’m not a civilian.” You snapped trying to sit up Sam’s arms held you to his chest.

“Don’t move, Y/N you’re going to freak out and I need you to try not to.”

“Sammy, what’s going on?” Your hand curled grabbing onto his flannel.

“We’re in a coffin.”

“What.”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“A coffin?”

“Yes.”

“How.”

“I got knocked out pretty quickly, I’m guessing you did too.”

“You were on the floor then -”

“Pain?” Sam finished.

“Yes, pain.” Your head still rested on his chest. “We’re going to die.”

“No, no we’re not,” Sam argued quietly, you could feel him moving about his hand running across the wood.

“He has us, it’s either the monster or a serial killer.” You spoke trying to keep yourself from panicking.

“Dean will find you, he’ll find us, he’ll tear buildings apart until he finds us.” Sam sighed “Until then we need to stay calm and continue to keep our breathing steady.”

“Okay, we can do that.” You nodded up at Sam in the darkness. “I can do that.”

“If you’re going to freakout tell me, yeah?”

“Yes.” Your hand rested over his heart the beating under your palm was fast, Sam was freaking out, his breathing remained steady. “Can we talk or will we use up too much oxygen?”

“We can talk.” Sam pulled you closer. “What do you want to talk about?” He asked his hand running up and down your ribcage.

“Anything, everything.”

“This is probably going to be hard when we know everything about each other, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to die.” You whispered.

“I’m trying to avoid that happening.” Sam’s feet shuffled against the foot of the coffin.

You were slowly panicking, trying to stay calm you gripped onto his flannel again. “Sam.”

“I know.” Sam’s breathing was growing more ragged as he struggled to breathe.

“I - It’s getting worse.” You closed your eyes, breathing felt like you were running a marathon up Everest.

“Shh.” Sam’s hand ran across your hair.

“You want to know something you don’t know?” Breathing was verging on impossible as your grip relaxed on his shirt.

“Go on.” Sam coughed covering his mouth with his hand.

“I had sex with Dean this morning.”

“I said something … I … didn’t know.”

“You’re going to be an Uncle.” You whispered.

Sam didn’t speak he only kicked against the lid of the coffin soil trickled through the tiny gaps in the wood, Sam’s hand covered your face shielding you.

“Sammy?”

“Yes?”

“Tell him I love him.” Your voice cracked as you felt yourself slipping. “So much.”

“Y/N, don’t …”

“I love you too, thank you for keeping me alive.”

“Y/N, you’re going to tell him yourself, you’re going to tell him -” He paused slowly fighting to fill his lungs with oxygen. “You’re pregnant, you’re going to tell him.

“I don’t think I am.” Your voice faded to barely a breath.

“Y/N?”

With a few laboured breaths, you felt everything blur, your desperate need for oxygen-starved, darkness was slowly taking over you.

“Y/N, Y/N -”

“Y/N! Sammy!” Dean shouted as he dug into the ground. “Hold on, dear God hold on.” When Dean’s shovel hit something solid both he and Bobby froze.

“You kids best be holding on in there!” Bobby called out as Dean took the axe from Bobby he swung hitting the top corner of the coffin leaving a chunk missing, he could hear someone gasping for air under the wood.

“Y/N! Sam!” Dean shouted as he fell to his knees ripping at the wood with his bare hands.

“Bobby I need some help!”

“Dean that wood can’t take any more weight, I’ll crush them both, get them out and I’ll pull them up.”

Dean’s hands ripped away chunks of wood his hands bloody until he could see you and Sam. Both of you looked like you were sleeping, you had to be sleeping.

Sam’s eyes flew open as he gasped filling his lungs with oxygen. “Y/N CPR now -”

“What?” Dean spluttered as he hauled your lifeless body off Sam’s chest, giving you to Bobby.

“Dean call an ambulance,” Bobby shouted down at him as he knelt beside you starting to administer CPR.

“Is she dead?” Dean whispered as he held his phone to his ear his eyes never leaving you as he asked the obvious question knowing Bobby wouldn’t be doing what he was if you were alive.

“She stopped breathing a few minutes ago.” Sam coughed as he stood up hauling himself out of the wooden coffin.

Dean spoke to the dispatcher giving them the location and your condition before hanging up, he pulled himself out of the hole in the ground before turning to help Sam out, as soon as his brother was above ground he crawled to you his hand reaching out for yours finding it he gave it a squeeze. “Please, please just breathe.” He begged. “Please don’t leave me.”

The minutes ticked by with nothing, no heartbeat, no breath, eventually Sam took over from Bobby when he tired.

“Sam I think we should call it …” Bobby’s hand rested on Sam’s shoulder.

“No! No, she’s going to come back, she has to come back.” Sam continued his eyes falling to Dean who was sat next to you, his hand rested on your cheek, his eyes never leaving you. “She has to.”

“Sam -”

“No, we’re not stopping until a paramedic is here.” Dean finally looked up away from you.

“Over here!” Bobby’s flashlight waved towards the emergency services running towards him across the clearing.

10 minutes, for 10 minutes they tried everything they could before the senior paramedic called a time of death. Dean crumpled silently as he hugged you, his eyes squeezed shut as he cradled your head. “No, please come back, you can’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.”

“Dean, they need to move her.” Bobby knelt down next to him. “Let them do their job.”

“I can’t leave her.” He cried.

“You have to, come on let’s get you up.” Bobby and Sam hauled Dean to his feet with tears falling from all 3 men.

“Dean.” Sam held onto his brother wrapping an arm around his waist holding some of his weight. “Dean.” He repeated, Dean’s eyes finally tore away from the gurney they were loading you on to.

“What?” His eyes leaving his brother for a few seconds.

“She wanted to tell me she loved you  …. and that …” Sam choked the words out as Dean looked up at him with fresh tears falling from his eyes, his grip on Sam’s arm tightening.

“What?”

“You were going to be a Dad,” Sam whispered, as the words left Sam’s lips Dean’s grip on his arm loosened, Dean crumpled to the ground screaming as he hit the ground.

Tags -

Forever Taglist - 

@mega-loser1298 @smalltowndivaj @roxyspearing @emoryhemsworth @dwgrl1903 @cassieraider @mirandaaustin93 @mogaruke @heyitscam99 @mouselovesmusic @supernaturaldean67 @atc74 @witchofenoch @malindacath @skathan-omaha @ain-t-bovvered @beffyblueeyes @unicorn-sparkles123 @serienjunkiegirl @jchona @polina-93 @supernaturaltakeover @thefangirlliveson @rhochradel @ambeazyyy @juanitadiann @mystriee @amandamdiehl @dixonsunicorn @deanzeppeloin @katieelementarymydearwatsonme @atlas-of-the-world @spnbaby-67 @chelsea072498 @dean-winchesters-bacon @racheo91 @mrswhozeewhatsis @death-unbecomes-you @brewsthespirit-blog @shann-the-artist-moon @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @spnwoman @angelsandwinchesters @smoothdogsgirl @cdwmtjb8 @perkypolarbear 

Dean Taglist -

@akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @dramaqueenrolf @itsallaboutthedean @shadowysandwichcreator @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @lisssays @ruprecht0420 @hobby27 @05spn18 @stevieboyharrington @amandamdiehl @aussiefangirlwolfy @destiel-equals-life @waywardrose13 @supernatural13-13 @multifandombackpack @vickyfarley

[baldysims]

Strange Legacy 3.3

This one’s going to be a short one, guys.

When last we left off, Angeline and Betelgeuse had finally died, and Fornax and Danni’s oldest daughters left for college along with their vampiric aunt Diadem. This left plenty of room for Danni to get pregnant with yet another set of twins, one of whom will hopefully be a boy, because Danni’s uterus could use a rest and so could I.

What do you know, it’s a boy and a girl. Welcome to the family, Kornephoros and Lilii Borea. Kornephoros is the heir and the baby factory is officially shut down!

As you probably gathered from the wishing well in the last chapter, the Stranges’ garden has been thriving and we have all the produce necessary to make every kind of juice, officially netting us an additional Seasons point.

Once the produce was mostly harvested, I repurposed the greenhouse to display all of our career rewards. That’s right, Cassie and Danni did it! That’s every single career reward in the game, and another sweet sweet collection point.

And while we’re looking upon my works and despairing, we might as well get this shot of another 25 Elixirs of Life out of the way.

Ahhhh. It’s good to have points.

Anyway, back to the family. It has come to my attention that I’ve given approximately zero screen time to Ilkil and Jishui, Fornax’s middle set of twin daughters, so please enjoy this shot of them as toddlers.

Ilkil is the one on the right sweetly cuddling with an angelic expression to match her personality. Jishui is the one on the left, with eyebrows as sharp as her bangs. The two of them have kind of a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on.

They’re children now, of course. It’s just that I don’t have that many pictures of this time in the Stranges’ lives on account of being bummed that I essentially had to play generation 4′s childhood years twice.

Trust me, though, you’re not missing much. Six kids + functional relationships among the adults = the only thing anyone does around here anymore is talk about toddler skills.

And it goes without saying that the headmaster is over here constantly.

It’s cute that Danni’s trying to impress him by talking about the Stranges’ fabulous wealth, don’t you think? There’s really no need for that as long as the tour ends in the same room as the open bar. I can see why he was such good friends with Angeline and Sharon back in the day; the man’s a complete lush!

“When are you going to change me out of my default Maxis clothes and bowl cut? I’m the heir, right? I thought that meant you were going to focus on me, but here I am halfway through childhood and this is only the second photo you’ve ever taken of me."

You know, he’s got a point about the bowl cut.

There we go. Sorry, kid, it’s just that I was burned out on your generation before you were even born, plus I’ve never found kids all that riveting to play in the first place. We’ll revisit when you hit your teen years, kthxbai.

And that goes double for your sisters! Hurry up and grow up, all of you!

“But dad, what if I’m the only one she got a picture of acknowledging that you wrote your memoirs and fulfilled the Storytelling handicap for your generation? Then she’ll have to take another picture of me as a child, won’t she?”

Jishui might be a little too smart for her own good.

Is it really so much to ask that they take a leaf out of big sis Gomeisa’s book and grow up and move to college as fast as possible? Danni and Fornax are elders now; they should not still be raising four kids under 10 years old!

Although if it was an option, I’m sure they’d be making more as we speak. These two are still just as in love as the day they met, and actually might be even more adorable in their old age.

Awww. Yep, they’re definitely my legacy OTP. Now that every woohoo doesn’t have to result in children, I’ve been sending them on lots and lots of dates in the hopes that Fornax will roll the want for 100 Dream Dates. I’ve never seen it, but damn if I’m not determined to force it for the sake of another impossible want!

Anyway, back to Gomeisa.

Gogo’s been having all kinds of fun at college. Between the coeds, the parties, and the makeover of the house Aunt Diadem was able to fund with her scholarship money, it’s been a blast.

I expected there to be some friction with Christy, what with the house being occupied by three competing Romance Sims, none of whom are particularly nice, but she surprised me by becoming fast friends with both Gomeisa and Hamal. Maybe last generation’s cowplanting actually took!

Back on the home lot, Ilkil bucked Gomeisa and Hamal’s trend and rolled Family. I gave her a correspondingly wholesome makeover.

Jishui, on the other hand...

Boy, I’m glad we have that wishing well. Handling all these Romance teens’ first kisses when all I want to do is get their asses to college would be hell otherwise.

F.I.N.A.L.L.Y. Kornephoros rolled I-don’t-remember-what but I’m pretty sure it was Romance too (these pictures are well over a year old and I’ve since played him through his sophomore reroll, sue me) and Lilii Borea rolled... well, I’ll just let you guess based on her 8am pillow fight date with the creepiest Tricou kid on the front lawn in her pajamas.

God bless Pleasure Sims.

Kornephoros was no different than his sisters; as soon as he got home from school, he too went straight for the wishing well and conjured up Swan Tricou for a first kiss.

It was at this point that I realized, hey... I have six Strange kids and six Tricou kids. Wouldn’t it be kind of adorable to send them all to college and marry them off to each other Seven-Brides-for-Seven-Brothers style?

There’s just one problem: Swan doesn’t have enough chemistry with Kornephoros to work with the True Love restriction.

Clearly, I had no choice but to make him fall for her sister.

“Kestrel, we’ve only known each other for a few hours, but you can’t tell me you don’t feel what’s between us. Will you come to college with me?”

“Um... I don’t know if that’s going to work, Kor.”

“We’ll make it work! It’s true love”

“No, I mean literally, I don’t see how that can work. Don’t you already have five sisters, an aunt, and a placeholder going to that lot with you? I don’t think I’d fit.”

Damn it, she’s right! Pardon me while I go do some rearranging.

The choice for who had to go was clear. Christy has always been a Sim who tried my patience at the best of times, and she’s been living (and deceased) on this lot for well over fifty years now. It’s time for this perpetual student to graduate.

Plus she keeps messing with Di’s coffin in the middle of the day, and I just can’t have that. It’s hard enough keeping a vampire alive in college as it is. The lack of a magic school bus has been really killing me over here, especially since Di chose the physics major and her classes are all in the middle of the day.

So byeeeeeee, Christy! Don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you!

Next time: How much trouble can 8 college Sims get up to when 4 of them are Romance and 2 are Pleasure? Is marrying two groups of six siblings off to each other primarily because the symmetry appeals to you a good idea? And just how long does it take to get back on the horse after your neighborhood explodes into a BFBVFS?

Legacy Scoring:

Legacy: 3.5 Money: 3 Family friends: 38x.25 = 9.25 Impossible wants: 9 (Alph 20L, Sharon 30F, Zaniah 7Sk, Angeline 7Sk, Fornax 7Sk, Electra 50FD, Diadem 7Sk, Danni 7Sk, Cassiopeia 200S) Platinum graves: 4 (Family, Popularity, Fortune) Ghosts: 1 (Old Age) Business: 4 Seasons: 4 + 2 (tree and fish/well/juices) Free Time: 3.5 (Games: Zaniah, Betelgeuse, Alpheratz, Electra, Fornax, Cassiopeia, Angeline) Collections: 3 (25 Elixirs x2, Career Rewards) Master: 2 (Social Bunnies Need Love Too, Child Prodigy - Fornax, ) Handicaps: 0 Overflow: 0 Penalties: -1(bills) Total: 47.25

[oblivioustoast]

i was going back thru my tagsofthewhathaveyou posts and damn if they didn’t still make me laugh so now it’s time fooooorrrrrrr

Tags of the Week or Something Like It -

Greatest Hits!!!!

#Checkmate atheists

#i bet spooks hassle him all day trying to possess that rockin bod

#g spoot

#make sure to play it loud enough to hear in my coffin so i'll know my cue to kick it open

#*takes next train to garbage hell*

#HAS SCIENCE gonE TOOO FAR?????

#go big or go home as i never say

#so weird it almost seems like if you do something instead of nothing at all that results can be achieved

#do it. drink fire.

#I'm IN HeELL

#this better be good or I will kill everyone who's ever betrayed me

#so I ran him through with an axe.

#I had an idea for a script once.#It's basically Jaws except when the guys in the boat are going after Jaws#they look around and there's an even bigger Jaws#so the guys have to team up with Jaws to get Bigger Jaws#I call it Big Jaws#I already got a sequel in mind. It's called Way Bigger Jaws.

#y’all are pervs

#i want to tranquilize him#with my vagina

#CHROST

#DEAD TOM’S DEAD

#i round up to lesbian

#PLEASE DON’T LOOK IN THAT GUITAR CASE IT IS FILLED WITH SECRETS MOTHER

#hide this behaviour from your family in case they add it to their list of things to frown about

#The refreshing crunch of Sonic mpreg

#I'll date who I wanna date you hot potato chicken nugget ass double dipped bastard

#it’s like assassin’s creed but worthless and annoying

#i remember being angry the day i discovered the patella wasn't literally a little bowl that cradled your knee like a tiny leg helmet

#...............how to toothpaste

#having multiple heads and terrifyingly powerful visages must be hard for all of you

#Whatever the hell fucking time or day it is on what the fuck ever planet I'm on

#i am terrified of macauly culkin tbh

#some1 call da hottie police

#*toot toot too-* *stops* fuck. *toot too toot*

#i bet you looked down here to see if there was a little extra joke in the tags

#no not that low-- THAT'S NAUGHTY

#ok but if Xena's not in it it's not true

#if you ignore my flaming vomit body

#can i liver here?

#I mean who the hell knew bananas were flammable they never mention that

#these things are too glamorous to stick in my glorious orifices.

#one day the aliens will come and use our love of hollywood pets against us

#ain't nobody fuckin' with my click click cl...why won't this fucking remote work?

#abandoned you sayyyy….

#Thomas the NSFW Engine

#thigs gap

#are you out of YOUR MIND

#then again it doesn't really matter because the sun will explode and everything

#dogs getting hired is why I can't get a job. Thanks Obama

#I could make a list of people who need to stop. This list would span the Atlantic.

#partner in crime or partner in.. *whispers*....sexual activity

#Did you know that wolves also enjoy Mimosas like people?

#nope useless let's eat them

#no wanking till winter

#everybody is so utterly fucking dead jim

#this isn’t helping my fucking raging FIERY EXPLODING DESIRE TO SHHHHHHHHHHHHH  #SHAG HIM

#the other day i found a relative in a jar in the roof and THAT’S NOT SOMETHING ANYONE SHOULD HAVE TO STUMBLE ACROSS.

#quite a goddamn pickle if you ask me

#*crawls under a rotten log in the middle of the woods to die*

#but beastiality?!?!?

#my vibrator just electrocuted me.

#is this a joke I'm going to punch you in the lips with my mouth

#this is a vagina you can't fool me

#why can dogs even snore what is the point

#If the FBI sees this I’M KIDDING jfc

#I think it would be amazing to be killed by Christopher Lee.

#my first blowjob i was really scared so my boyfriend let me put nutella on his penis and all was well 

#australia is an animal joke factory

#just click your heels three times and then eat that mothafucka

#Pooh u ok?

#feelings disgust me

#ACTUALLY I WOULD TOTALLY DOWNLOAD A BUTT

#everyone is gay on tumblr

#you know what appeals to me sexually? cake.

#i also took the 'are you a potato?' test and the result was inconclusive.

#abraham lincoln could tell you that story and you would make him apologise for lying to you.

#I NEED MY HEART TO LIVE

#not even that time when i picked up that hitchhiker who turned out to be dead

#It's like Being John Malkovich only SEXY

#this isn't a metaphor for sexuality it's a tag about how i'm really bad at baseball.

#look don't come to me for spiritual advice i think the impending zombie uprising will sort everything out

#this scared the lousy shit out of me

#like when your house gets too dirty so you burn it down

[crazonico-blog]

Best insults and comebacks for you lovely people to tell to destroy other people's lifes

1. I’d like to kick you in the teeth, but why should I improve your looks?

2. As an outsider, what do you think of the human race?

3. Did your parents ever ask you to run away from home?

4. If I had a face like yours I’d sue my parents.

5. Don’t you love nature, despite what it did to you?

6. Don’t think, it might sprain your brain.

7. Brains aren’t everything. In fact, in your case they’re nothing.

8. Are you always so stupid or is today a special occasion?

9. He’s living proof that man can live without a brain.

10. He’s the kind of a man you’d use as a blueprint to build an idiot.

11. How did you get here? Did someone leave your cage open?

12. Hi, I’m a human being. What are you?

13. I don’t want you to turn the other cheek, it’s just as ugly.

14. I don’t know what it is that makes you so stupid but it really works.

15. Don’t feel bad, there are many people who have no talent!

16. Any similarity between you and a human is purely coincidental.

17. I don’t want you to turn the other cheek, it’s just as ugly.

18. You should eat some of your make up so you can be pretty on the inside.

19. If you’re going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty.

20. If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb to your ego and jump to your IQ.

21. your gene pool could use a little chlorine

22. You coffin dodging oxygen thief.

23. What doesn’t kill you…disappoints me.

24. Everyone who ever loved you was wrong.

25. You’re as sharp as a marble.

26. Your birth certificate is an apology letter from the condom factory.

27. Do you ever think how much happier I’d be if your mother swallowed?

28. Mirrors cant talk. Lucky for you they can't laugh either.

29. Your the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard.

30. If I had a face like yours I would sue my parents.

31. Your only chance of getting laid is to crawl up a chicken's butt and wait.

32. When you were born the doctor throw you out the window and the window threw you back.

33. Somewhere out there a tree is working very hard to replace the oxygen you consume. Now go apologize to it.

34. Your as bright as a black hole, and twice as dense.

35. Your mother should have swallowed you.

36. Your not worth the dynamite it'd take to blow you to hell.

37. Someone should tear you down and put up a human being.

38. How did you survive infancy?

39. I don’t hate you. I don’t care enough about you to hate you.

40. You’re so ugly you make blind kids cry.

41. You’ll never need birth control with a personality like that.

42. You only annoy me when you’re breathing, really.

43. Do yourself a favor and ignore anyone who tells you to be yourself. Bad idea in your case.

44. Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once in awhile, but you really abuse the privilege.

45. I can’t help imagining how much awesomer the world would be if your dad had just pulled out.

46. Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d gotten enough oxygen at birth?

47. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. Hate me because your boyfriend thinks so.

48. If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I’d fart.

49. Jesus might love you, but everyone else definitely thinks you’re an idiot.

50. Whenever we hang out, I remember that God really does have a sense of humor.

51. It’s kind of hilarious watching you try to fit your entire vocabulary into one sentence.

52. I’d tell you how I really feel, but I wasn’t born with enough middle fingers to express myself in this case.

53. I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but that would be cruel and unusual punishment.

54. People like you are the reason I’m on medication.

55. I believed in evolution until I met you.

56. If I threw a stick, you’d leave, right?

57. Earth is full. Go home.

[tales-of-abysia]

Mind of a Madman - Within the Case

“Just through here.” Azure had led them deep into the bowels of the city. Under the library, below the arena, beneath the steamy winding residential zone, there was a chamber that once held Husk and Nero. It had since been changed into an emergency infirmary, and through the glyph in the center of this room one could access the sunken City. Certain individuals could force this lift lower, into the Chronos Bin.

However, this room now had several beds, monitoring equipment, a sterile pod and drawers filled with medical supplies. Much of the stock here had once belonged to Emmalie, but since her retirement these items had fallen into the hands of Clora. “Wow.” Her wide eyes shimmered their red-pink hue as she stared around. “This room is so much higher quality than the one in the Arena.”

“That’s because that one is more of an infirmary.” He motioned toward the larger room. “This is a medical bay. Consider it our emergency station.” He glanced behind Clora. “You can place the case onto the center bed here, Jaxx.”

Jaxx rippled into the room, carrying the case quite level. He heaved it onto the soft mat on the center bed and sighed. “This feels so backwards. She was supposed to be watching over me in my grave, not this other way around.”

“I’m gonna do my best for her, buddy. Don’t you worry.” Clora reached out over Jaxx and his form rose from the black, a shape much like a head rubbing against her palm. He then rose up and out of the muck, his spine running along her palm as he rose. He glanced through the sheer top of the case before turning and wriggling to the doorway where he waited. He would remain here for quite a time.

Zane stood in the doorway, watching everything unfold. He held a toolbox in his good hand. On a blank wall he saw a six-pronged outlet on the wall. “This must be it.” He held out his palm and a partner shape popped out of his hand. As he inserted it into the outlet there was a hiss, followed by a mechanical cranking. The stone wall pulled downwards, slid under the floor and revealed a small extra wing that had components within. Many gears and pistons were set in wire boxes, copper bundles freshly spun hanging on a hook, extra tools set on a pegboard by a desk with a drawer for every fastener one could imagine. Zane simply nodded. “It’s flashy but I can work with it.” He placed down his toolbox and popped it open. He had a cloth within, rolled up. He grabbed it and unfurled it, revealing a set of smaller, finer tools within. Finally, he noticed a heat vent, torch, anvil and ice bath in the corner as he turned back around. “Oh neat, I can shape in here too.”

Azure nodded. “Indeed. I wanted all of the bases covered. The wall opens from both sides, and is soundproof when closed. You have an airvent that connects to the outside as well, both on top and bottom.

“So any heat will get sucked out for cool air. Very neat.”

Clora was examining the case. “Before I can even help, I’m gonna have to get Laila out of this runed up box she is in. I’m pretty sure the symbols on the six corners up top are locks."

Another voice echoed from behind the curtain containing the third bed within the corner. “Those ones are for 'Protect' actually.” He coughed as he spoke. “Ugh… When you layer them into each other they make the shell. I… I put a ‘Stable' rune on the bottom which is why it’s thinner on top. You’ll need to break that one first.”

Clora stared with wide eyes at the corner bed. “Uhm… O-okay.” She glanced confused at Azure for a moment before looking back to the case. “What else should I know?”

“The symbols on the left and right are for ‘Mending' and I faced them toward each other. Those ones are on the inside. They might help you at the start.” He coughed yet again, leaning up a bit as he did so. “ugh.. On the top…”

“Time. That one is for 'Slow' aren’t they?”

“Yeah. You’re a smart girl Clora.” He layed back down.

She looked back at the shadow on the curtain before taking a deep breath and holding her hands out. She stayed there for several moments… “I’m not sure I can do this, Azure.”

“You’re the only one who can.”

“I’ve never seen a body damaged this badly.”

“You came pretty close.”

“I was still in once piece. Like crumpled paper but… Laila looks like they tried to tear her apart.”

Jaxx growled. “They did… We put most of her inside.”

Her eyes grew wider, and her breathing accelerated. “I don’t think this is a good idea. When I open the case she's gonna be moving forward like normal. What if I can’t stop the bleeding? I don’t know how to… to…” She began to tear up. “Her.. Her arms are..”

Zane walked over to Clora and tapped her on the shoulder. Twice. The second time she slowly began to turn toward him, her gaze still locked onto the face within the case. She looked almost peaceful…

She looked dead.

Smack!

Zane gently grabbed Clora's chin with his metal hand, the opposite he had struck her with. He had her attention now. “You can do this kiddo. You’re the only on who can.”

Clora looked down at her hands, the markings in her arms where she had been sewn back together. “Bring Alexia. I’m going to need her here to do this, if something goes wrong she can stitch it up.”

“Fine.” Azure glanced up at the small orange light. “Audio, summon her here.”

Zane walked behind the curtain carrying a tape measure, paper and pen, and a protractor. “Fuck dude. You look worse than I do.” He stared down at the man

“Really? Man, nobody told me I got uglier.” He coughed again.

“Ha! You still got jokes, huh? I need measurements though. Gimme those stumps.”

“Please don’t make my prosthetics as dinky looking as yours.” He began to cough more aggressively between chuckles.

“Calm down, Koffing. If you keep up the laugh factory act I’m gonna be building a coffin.”

“Heh… It was a red one. It bit down pretty hard there, I was limited on options. I wasn't gping to let it drag me away.”

“Fuck dude, you did this to your own arm?”

“They did it to you too, Zane. I got off easy last time.”

“I didn’t cut my arm off though, the fuckin' thing ripped it off. That’s when I decided rooting around in the bin was a bad idea.”

“You never stopped though.”

Zane jotted down some measurements for the arm. “Yeah well I like bad ideas. Don’t use me as an example, I’m not the greatest guy. Gimme the other arm I gotta compare.”

There was a knock at the doorway. Alexia asked “Why did you call me to the depths?”

Everyone stared her way. Azure said "We need your help."

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Persistence is Key-John Shelby Imagine

Requested: No

Warnings: fluff, long

Y/S/N- Your Sister’s Name

  “I love your hair, Y/N, it looks so posh!” Y/S/N said as she linked arms with me.

  “Thanks, it feels a bit weird but I suppose it’s a nice change,” I said.

  After three months of dragging my feet and being indecisive, I finally got my hair cut into the bob hair style that I had seen all over Paris as well as in London thanks to the flapper girls. A few older women stared at me as we passed them on the street but as long as my parents were okay with it, I didn’t care about them. 

    “And the bangs are perfect,” she gushed.

    I frowned. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

   “What? I love you, sis, what’s so weird about that?”

   “We barely speak when I’m home, there’s something else going on.”

   “I’m just happy that my stylish little sister is home for Christmas is all,” she said.

   Her shimmering e/c eyes were a little too shimmery and her lipsticked smile was far too wide. She was hiding something and her having a secret made me nauseous because if it gave her this much joy, it was something at my expense. It was times like these that I wished that I could read her mind. 

    When we got home, I realized why she was so nice. John Shelby was standing in front of the house with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He was wearing a long dark coat, expensive suit, and the Blinder razor hat. Just looking at him made me shake with irritation.

    “I knew something was wrong,” I griped.

    “Hi, John!” she said.

    John looked up and smirked when he saw me. “Y/S/N, Y/N.”

    “Hi, John,” I said in a polite but bored tone.

    Y/S/N practically dragged me over to him. “What brings you here?”

    “I came to give these to Y/N.” 

    “That really isn’t necessary, John.”

     “I insist.” 

      I opened my mouth to argue, but the bouquet was already in my hands. It was a beautiful bouquet but I already had several dozen flowers in my room thanks to his previous efforts.

      “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to talk,” Y/S/N said.

      “We aren’t love—”

      But Y/S/N had already slammed the door to the house shut behind her and I bristled in annoyance. She had obviously set this up with John and only accompanied me to get my hair cut to make sure that I would be caught off guard but John popping by with flowers or candies was a normal thing. Since we were fourteen, John flirted with me and my friends would try to get me to kiss him but I’d refuse every time. It was horrifying to have everyone staring and demanding that one kisses a boy they aren’t too keen on. His brothers teased me endlessly about it even though he would always threaten to kill them if they said one word to me. When we got older, I’d considered going out with him, but he got married and then went off to fight in the war. When he came back, he and his wife started having kids and then she died giving birth to the last one. Of course, all the pity I had went out to John and I couldn’t help but feel bad that he had a hard time wrangling all those kids on his own. However, about a year had passed when he started stopping by when I happened to be visiting my sister and her husband. He would flirt and try to get me to go out with him, but I always refused.

    “You cut your hair,” John said. 

     “Yeah, I wanted a change.”

     “It looks good but you always look good.”

     “Thank you, John,” I muttered. “You don’t look too bad yourself. How are your kids?”

    “They’re all right, I suppose. Doin’ my head in all the time but I can’t be too upset with them. I’m gone all the time and they need a mother.”

    “Well, good luck finding one,” I chirped, walking towards the front door.

   “Y/N.”

   I sighed and turned to him. “Yes?”    “Would you come around to the Garrison to get a drink with me?”

   His stupid light eyes were filled with some sort of hope but he still had a flirtatious expression. It was a confusing combination that I was used to seeing and at first, I felt bad about turning him down but after the two thousandth time, I decided that it was his fault for stopping by even though he knew what my answer would be.

    “I can’t tonight, my publisher wants the last chapter by the end of the week and I’m trying to get past a bad case of writer’s block.” I took a step towards the door as John took a step towards me.

     “I heard alcohol helps with these kinds of things.”

     “I prefer not using alcohol as a crutch.”

      My back hit the door and John was right in front of me. I felt cornered in and had a bad feeling that Y/S/N was having far too much fun watching all this unfold from the parlor room.

     “One drink isn’t going to hurt,” John said.

     I sighed. He wasn’t about to let me get off that easy—-he never did—-he was going to make me be blunt about it.

    “John, we both know that even if my publisher wasn’t on my case about finishing this last book, I wouldn’t go to the Garrison with you.”

    John frowned and his jaw tightened. “Why not? Why don’t you ever want to go out with me?”

    I hesitated. Usually, John left with a real clever line only to return either the following day or the day after that. He never seemed so upset before but I suppose everyone has their limits. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to tell him why I could never and would never go out with him.

    “I can’t go out with a known gangster, John, it will tarnish my reputation. While I appreciate how much your family has helped mine, it doesn’t change the fact that we are two people going in different directions with our lives. Besides, what if we did end up going out and it turned into something more, like marriage? I can’t be a good writer and tend after your kids. I’m sorry, John, you’re just going to have to find someone else.”

     Like you did before.

    I felt both weight less and guilty as I stared at John. He was still upset and much more tense than he had been when he first arrived at my house. Finally, he straightened up. 

    “Right, see you around, Y/N.”

     I wanted to say something else but John was down the street before I knew it. Slowly, I turned to open the door only to have Y/S/N rip it open, her eyes wide with surprise.

    “What did you say to him?” she  demanded as she pulled me in.

    “I…I told him the truth, I can’t date a gangster,” I said.

    Y/S/N stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “You what?”

    “It’s the truth, Y/S/N. I’m already on thin ice with Alicia as it is and getting involved with gangster would be the knife in the coffin that is my career.”

   “But what about Mum and Dad?” Y/S/N asked through gritted teeth.

   “They just like that the Shelbys helped them out of a rough patch but you know that they would skin both of us alive if we ever got involved with one of ‘em. Why are you being so snippy?”

    “John has never left the house looking more heartbroken or upset before. There is no telling what he will do to either of us or our family in his state!”

    “Then you shouldn’t have told him that I was in town!” I griped.

     Y/S/N pressed her lips together in a thin, firm line. She always made that face when I won one of our battles of wit. She should be satisfied with her life as a housewife considering that her husband owned one of the many factories in Small Heath. However, that gave her no right to punish me for staying in school long enough to get a degree in English and Creative Writing and become an author. 

     “If anything happens to Adam, Mum, or Dad because of your stunt I will never speak to you again!” 

     “You act as though that’s a punishment.”

     I strolled away from her to put the flowers in a vase and add them to the collection of flowers in my room there. As much money as Y/S/N claimed Adam made they could afford a nicer house in London but stayed in Small Heath. 

     The room was big enough and there was a window outlooking the gray neighborhood. Around the perimeter of the room were vases of daisies, roses, and tulips. They were still growing well even though I only came up to Birmingham from London when I felt like it. Maybe Sandra, the housekeeper, was taking good care of them when I was gone. 

     I set the roses on my nightstand and stared at them. They were just another reminder of John so why hadn’t I thrown them out? Perhaps it was because it was a reminder that someone as tough as John could still be sweet and romantic when he wanted to. When we were kids, he used to give me the weeds that looked like yellow flowers because he thought I deserved something pretty. Also, he used to get into fights with boys who teased me or tried to flirt with me. It was all very sweet and I would be lying if I said that I never found him attractive, but life got in the way. He went off to to the war and I went to university, that’s just how it went. 

      “It’s not my fault,” I muttered to myself. “He knew that I wasn’t really interested so why would he keep coming back?”

     I glanced at my black Imperial typewriter that was set on my desk. Writing always calmed me down and maybe now was as good a time as any to finish the book. I walked over to the desk, loaded the typewriter, and wrote.

     Hot tears of anguish ran down Ella’s tears as she read the letter that said her worst nightmare: John Shelby had finally pissed off.

   “Nope, can’t send that into Alicia,” I muttered as I took the paper out of the typewriter and reloaded it.

    All Ella could do was stare as the love of her life walked away from her for the last time. Perhaps it was for the best since they were two different people. It would have never worked out since she was a beloved school teacher and he was a no good gangster.

   I cursed under my breath as I ripped out the new paper as well and tossed it in the bin.

   “You’ve got this, Y/N, this is about Ella and James,” I muttered.

    Gray skies were brewing overhead as Ella stood in the field. The cold wind that usually warned the people in England that a storm was coming actually calmed her spirits. She closed her eyes and waited for the rain to come, to wash away any dirt that wasn’t particularly on her body but within her. 

     Suddenly, someone touched her hand, jarring her from the reverie and it was none other than James. He had that lopsided grin that made him look like the most clever man in the world and his dark curls were as wild and tangled as ever.

     “Wh…what are you doing here?” she whispered.

     “I wanted to see you again.”

     “But you shouldn’t be out here, it’s going to rain soon.”

      “You shouldn’t be out here either! It’s black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat.”

    His hard Scottish accent made the hint of a smile appear on her lips. She had gotten so used to hearing it over the past year that it was going to be hard for her not to miss it.

     “I like the rain, it’s like God’s telling the world that it gets another chance.”      “Yeah, I guess.”

      He looked perturbed but Ella didn’t wish to pry. He was already a difficult nut to crack and pushing too hard only made him retreat.

      “Honestly, you should go before the blushing bride starts to worry about you—-wouldn’t want to the groom running off with someone else the day before the wedding.”

    “Still strange that I’m gettin’ merrit.” 

     “Y/N, tea’s on!”      I blinked and looked out the window to see that it was pitch black. It had taken me all that time to write all of one page? Maybe I did need some tea.

    Thankfully, Sandra cooked and it was as good as it could possibly be aside from the awkward dinner conversation Y/S/N insisted on having with Adam every day he came home from work.

     “So, Y/N, when are you headed back to London?” Adam asked

     “The day after Christmas. You are all more than welcome to spend the New Year with me but there is something about being in London around that time that’s inspiring.”

      “Oh, yes, how is that book of yours going?” Y/S/N asked.

      “Better now, it should be done by the deadline.”

      “Great,” Adam said.

      The conversation lulled again and I was thankful that Y/S/N didn’t bring up John during tea because that would have been far too awkward for me. Finally, when tea was finished, I got back to writing and it felt as though my fingers couldn’t stop moving as I typed nearly everything that popped in my head. When I was finished, it had to be at least two o’clock in the morning and I didn’t even bother reading it before I fell asleep.

      The next morning, I woke up and read over my writing from the night before. It was pretty good if I said so myself but when I got to the end, my heart nearly stopped.

        Hot tears streamed down Ella’s face and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She was tired of burying her feelings from James, from Olivia, from her parents, and from herself. James looked surprised and heartbroken at the young woman in front of him.

       “Ella, what’s wrong?” he asked as he stepped closer to her.

      “Everything! Everything is wrong. You wearing that tuxedo and marrying Olivia is wrong and you invited everyone we both know to come see it, including me. Did you even think about how much that would hurt me?”

    “Ella, you said you were okay with this.”      “I thought I was, but I’m not. I have so much else to be concerned with: my job, my parents, and my friends but I can’t move forward because you are always somewhere in the back of my mind haunting me. I shouldn’t care about you like this but I do and the fact that you are going to marry Olivia, shiny perfect Olivia, kills me!”

    James reached out to touch Ella but she shrinked away. If he touched her, she was positive that she would be putty in his hands. Maybe if she had done that before, this part of her life would be right and she would be the one standing at the altar instead of Olivia. 

     “I’m so sorry that you’re hurting, Ella, but I can’t go with ya. I love Olivia.”

     Ella sighed and smiled. “Of course you do.”

     Ella straightened her back and walked out of the church proudly into the sun. She had just ruined a wedding and stirred up a ruckus that was definitely going to be the talk of the town for the next couple of weeks but she did not care. She was finally cutting herself off from James and as agnoizing as it was, it was necessary.

   “Not too shabby, Y/N,” I whispered.

   I organized the papers chronologically and stuffed them into an envelope with the rest of the chapter. As soon as I finished getting ready, I would send the chapter off to Alicia and not have to be concerned with any work for the rest of my vacation.

    As I bathed and got ready, one glaring fact plagued me: Ella’s feelings about James were eerily similar to my feelings for John. Of course, I never told him that I ever remotely fancied him when we were younger, but the anguish of watching him marry someone else was there as well as the regret of not being more upfront with my feelings. Plus, I’d buried them for such a long time that perhaps I had grown to resent John because of it and him asking me out all the time aggravated me. However, I would miss not seeing him around as much since the Garrison was never my scene.

    Thirty minutes later, I was pulling on my coat and walking out of the door with my latest chapter under the crook of my arm. 

   “I’ll see you later, Y/S/N!” I called.

   She made a “hmm” noise in response before I pulled the door closed behind me. It was another cold, gray day in Small Heath but I still felt relatively upbeat as I walked down to the post and sent the chapter off. I took my time walking back to the house. Small Heath had some rugged charm to it but it was a lot more congested there than in London somehow.

    When I finally made it back to the house, John and Y/S/N were having a spot of tea in the parlor. John wasn’t wearing his Blinder razor cap, which made me pause and not so subtly stare at him.

    “Y/N, look who came to visit us,” Y/S/N said.

    “John, I’m…surprised,” I said.

    John stood. “Hello, Y/N.”

   “We were just talking about you,” Y/S/N said.

   “Oh.” 

   I sat in the chair next to her and John sat back down on the couch. Y/S/N poured me a cup of tea and I sipped it.

   “You finished your book?” John asked.

   I nodded. “Just sent it off to my editor, thank you for asking.”

   “What’s it about?”

    “Oh, Y/N has always been private about what her little stories are about,” Y/S/N said.

    “No, it’s fine. It’s about a girl coming to terms with her emotions.”

     “Huh.”

     “She does that when she realizes she’s in love with a boy from her childhood in spite of the will they, won’t they stuff but the problem is, she realizes she loves him right before he gets married t othe girl of his dreams.”

      “And do they end up together?”       “You’ll have to read the book to find out.”

      Y/S/N stared at me for a long moment and looked as though she might cry. “I’m going to see where Sandra is with those biscuits.” She walked away swiftly in spite of her high heels.

     I set my tea down on the table. “So, what brings you to my house today?”

     “Well, I was looking to speak to you but your sister let me in. After our conversation yesterday, I started thinking about how long I could really stay in the family business. It isn’t really safe for my kids or anyone who gets close to me. So, I talked to Tommy and he agreed to cut me my share of the business so that I can look for work elsewhere.”

       “What?”

      “I’m good with numbers and I could work anywhere.” John set his tea on the table. “What I’m trying to say is that I can be the man you want me to be. And the kids won’t be much trouble for you.”

      “You would leave your family business for me?” I shook my head. “You’re mad.”

     “Only when it comes to you.” John grabbed my hand. “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you when we were five and I’ve never stopped. If it takes me leaving the family business to be with you, then I’ll do it.”

    Suddenly, tears brimmed in my eyes and I tried to blink them away as my heart swelled in my chest. He was being ridiculous, incredibly, definitely ridiculous.

    “You can’t be serious, John, that’s your family and your family has to mean everything to you.”

   “They do but they understand why I’d want to leave.”

   I ran a hand through my short hair. “This has to be the most foolish thing you have ever done for me of all people. I can’t believe you would go this far.” I shook my head. 

   John didn’t say anything and it made me nervous because he always had something to say. Unfortunately, I took it as my turn to speak.

    “Do you remember when we were fifteen and you, me, Arthur, Tommy, and some other girls from town stole some whiskey from Polly and split it over near the bridge?” I asked.

    John nodded. “Yeah, we were crazy kids but I was surprised you went along with it.”

   I shrugged. “I never had whiskey before. Anyway, we probably finished the whole thing when that girl, Helen, thought it was a good idea to start asking everyone ridiculous questions unless they wanted to do an embarrassing penalty.”

   “Yeah, Arthur told us how he lost his virginity to get out of letting everyone slap him,” John said with a laugh.

   “Well, Sarah demanded that I tell her who my first kiss was and when I said I hadn’t had it yet, she dared me to kiss Tommy. I only did it because it was a dare and he wasn’t all too thrilled about it either. However, I remember distinctly how upset you looked, like someone had kicked your puppy or something. Afterwards, when I got you to talk to me about it, you said that I shouldn’t have been forced to do anything, specially not with Tommy.”

   “Yeah, what about it?”

   “Well, that was when I realized that you really did like me and it wasn’t just because you liked the way I looked. I started fancying you around then but I kept playing coy because I was a stupid kid. Then you got married and I learned that playing coy only gets you so far.”

    The stupid tears threatened to fall but I kept talking.

    “I shouldn’t care about you the way I do now but I can’t help it. I thought about you all the time when I was at university, worried sick about how you were doing in the war. Now, you’ve left your family’s extremely successful but shady business because of my bloody status.”     Finally, the tears fell and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I never cried and the fact that John was there made me nervous and vulnerable. Slowly, he pulled me into his arms and wiped my tears.

   “Hey, it’s fine, we’re going to be fine.”

   “I’m so sorry that I was awful to you,” I said through shaky gasps. “I wouldn’t have bothered with me if I were you.”

   “I knew you were worth it,” he said cheekily.

   I pulled away and smacked his chest with a sniffle. Then, impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed him quickly. When I was about to pull away, he grabbed my face.

   “I’ve waited for this my whole life, you aren’t getting away that easily.”

   He kissed me back with more passion, pulling me into his lap as I reciprocated the feeling. I only pulled away when I felt breathless and cupped his face, his eyes glazed over with what I could guess was satisfaction.

   “You should go talk to Tommy about your share of the company. I don’t want to tear you away from their business, they are still your family,” I muttered.

   “That won’t be a problem.” John’s hands slid down to my hips. “Nothing was official yet, just wanted you to know I was serious.”

   “And I appreciate it very much, Mr. Shelby.”

   As I kissed him again, I prayed that Y/S/N wouldn’t walk in on us. The last thing I needed to hear in that moment was “I told you so”.

[itsworn]

Original Owners Buy, Sell, Rebuy & Restore Rare 1968 Yenko Super Camaro

George Edwards married Miss Carol Vishnesky on July 6, 1968. They intended to make a honeymoon drive in their new car from Scranton, Pennsylvania, to Niagara Falls, then down to the Atlantic shore, making a stop at Maryland’s Cecil County Dragway as part of the excursion. They had big dreams and a great relationship, which have kept them together to this day.

This 1968 Yenko Super Camaro is the car they bought new and took on their honeymoon. It replaced his Corvette, which did not seem to be super-practical as a family car as the big day approached.

“We were drag racing on the street almost every night, frequently racing our small-block Corvette,” George recalls. “We really wanted to be able to run with the big boy’s toys, so when I heard that Roy Stauffer’s Chevrolet in Scranton had two 427 Camaros, I couldn’t wait to get a look. I never heard of Yenko and didn’t really care who he was. All I knew was that it had a 427 stuffed under the hood. The purchase proved to be just what the doctor ordered, with Carol in the passenger’s seat calling off the numbers. We beat everything—big-block Corvettes, Hemi cars, GTOs, and the list goes on.”

Their honeymoon trip included a stop at “the Traction Capitol of the East,” as Cecil was known back then. In the pits, George parked next to some guy named Jenkins that day; the NHRA-legal Grumpy’s Toy RS/SS drag car was also on hand making laps, and the Grump was there driving.

During the following couple of years, George made his Yenko a little quicker. He moved up into Modified Production with a monster hoodscoop and tunnel-ram. The rear also had 5.13 gears, which Carol learned to deal with as she made her way to the laundromat and such, as this was their daily driver. When family responsibilities grew, they sold the car for more practical wheels. It went to a local performance fan who never did much with it. Some of the parts that had come off the car, such as the original hood, were tucked away for safekeeping.

Like many people, George never lost his love for cars and did some restorations for fun, including a real 1937 coffin-nose Cord 812. Meanwhile he made occasional inquiries about the old “green machine” stored in a garage not far from home. Finally he was able to bring it back into the fold, a little worse for wear.

Those who know 1968 Yenkos will tell you they are not simple cars to restore. George tackled it head-on, but as he began his work, he realized it needed to be done right. He called Brian Henderson and Joe Swezey at Super Car Workshop in Latrobe, at the other end of Pennsylvania near Pittsburgh.

Brian says, “George called the shop and left a message that he had a car for us to do. He didn’t say it was a Yenko, so we were pretty excited to hear that when I called him back. It was in pieces, but everything was there.”

“During my hunt for a pair of N.O.S. front fenders, the guy told me about Super Car Workshop and the cars they had restored,” says George. “Thanks to the internet, I was able to see the cars that they’d restored and the awards they’d won. I gave them a call. A few days later the crew arrived to inspect what I had, and after our meeting I was convinced they should be the ones to bring my Yenko back to its former glory. I did a lot of the missing parts hunting, and over the course of the restoration we have become very good friends.”

It is very uncommon to have an original owner involved who remembers details, let alone directs the project with a realistic understanding of cost and a willingness to chase the small things that make a difference. For instance, he helped answer a mystery about the hood opening.

“George had all the original pieces for the car. The hard stuff was there,” recalls Brian. “So I said to him as we looked at it, ‘I know this is an original hood because the real ones all have this provision for a bolt on the underside, but I’m not sure what it was for.’

“George said, ‘When I bought the car, there was a panel in the trunk that had a decal on it that said For Winter Use. It was a block-off plate. I think Yenko may have had the hood supplier do those.’

“At any rate, that plate was gone, and nobody we know has an original one, but we were able to locate a photograph showing it and fabricated one for this car. George himself says it’s what the original one looked like. In fact, those same images showed a new Rallye Green Yenko Camaro that, based on the timeframe, is in all likelihood the same car that George and Carol Edwards bought in 1968.”

After its near half-century journey and two years of labor, the car was unveiled at MCACN in 2015 to great acclaim. The Edwards have shown it extensively in the past three years.

“With only a few visits to their shop and photos from Brian of the restoration progress to view, it was a real emotional experience seeing our car in a condition better than when we picked it up at Stauffer’s in 1968,” says George. “Words cannot describe our feelings. We were in tears seeing car for the first time. It sure brought back a lot of great memories for us both.”

Brian says, “You know what made this one so fun? Carol and George Edwards had such great stories about the car’s history. It made us feel like we were part of the family. That doesn’t happen very often. George would sometimes even drive over once in a while just to see how it was going; we enjoy his friendship. For Joe and I and the crew here, this was a fun car to do.”

At a Glance

1968 Yenko Super Camaro Owned by: Carol and George Edwards Restored by: Super Car Workshop, Latrobe, PA Engine: 427ci/425hp L72 V-8 Transmission: M21 4-speed manual Rearend: QD-code with 4.10 gears and Positraction Interior: Black bucket seat Wheels: 14×6 Pontiac design with Yenko Y center caps Tires: F70-14 Goodyear redlines Special parts: Yenko L72 conversion, COPO 9737 equipment

The Camaro’s restyling for 1968 resulted in a classic look, but it became notorious when Don Yenko added his touches, which included the 427 callouts on the front fenders and Yenko badging on the rear panel.

Under the hood, the Yenko shop added a 427-inch L72 short-block to override the GM 400ci displacement limit. The cars were delivered as standard SS396 L78 models equipped with the COPO 9737 Sports Car Conversion equipment. The top of the engine was swapped over to the bigger-displacement bottom end.

With the detail level seen here, the engine shines. The Holley carb was rated at 780 cfm, and special attention was paid to finishes on the bare metal items.

Brian Henderson and his Super Car Workshop crew rarely get to work with original owners, and George was able to answer their question of what went into the threaded opening on the rear of the scoop.

The hole was for a cold-weather block-off plate. SCW was able to locate a couple of images of the plate and then created this replica. An original example is not known to exist at this time.

Sometimes misidentified as 14x7s, these were standard 14×6 Pontiac Rally II sports wheels equipped with a special Yenko center cap and, as seen here, shod in redline tires. We wonder how Yenko got rid of all the steel wheels they took off.

The stock interior was all business in this car, without a center console and featuring some of the upgrades that Yenko added for driving use.

Don Yenko’s road-racing background caused him to select high-quality monitoring accessories like the Stewart-Warner gauges and tach. By 1968, the Hurst shifter was part of the standard big-block SS four-speed package.

During their honeymoon, bride Carol Edwards took this snapshot of George at Cecil County Dragway parked next to none other than Bill Jenkins. Both drivers are in their cars.

Later, George wanted to go faster, and this tunnel ram ended up on the car. Carol got to drive the kids around in the Camaro with the tall hood and a 5.13 final gear ratio. The couple is still married today.

1968 Yenko Camaros

The 1967 Yenko Camaros were pretty much assembly line cars. There wasn’t a COPO program in place yet for them, so the earliest ones were SS350s and the later ones started as SS396s. There’s some consistency in what was done to convert them, and Dick Harrell did some of the first ones for Yenko. The early ones are a little different from each other because of what each individual mechanic did, but these were still basically speed-business changes on production cars.

In 1968, when Yenko started with the COPO program, the Camaros become much more specific, like with the larger 1 1/16-inch sway bar on the front and the extra bracketry in the frame for that. We don’t see that bracketry or bar ever used again; it was a little smaller in 1969, and the bracketry is completely unique to 1968 Yenko COPOs. The standard Camaro used an 11/16-inch bar, and the 1969 double COPOs (9737 plus a 427 COPO code) received a 13/16-inch sway bar.

The 140-mph speedometer on the Yenko was that item’s first use, and then there was Yenko’s specialized hood, which was on all of the Super Camaros. Very few 1967 Yenkos had a special hood. The rear spoiler is also pretty unique and a real problem to replace if you do not have one, as is the fiberglass decklid that was offered as an option.

Then you have the QD rear, which I have only seen in the 1968 Yenko COPOs. In my opinion, the QD was the predecessor to the BE rear in 1969. The QD is not on some of the earliest 1968 Yenko conversions, which were built before the COPO was released. George Edwards’ car is a 9737 COPO package with the QD rear, and we’ve seen original paperwork and Protect-O-Plates that spell out the QD rear from the factory on COPO 9737 models. It would be almost impossible to find one if it’s missing. Only 70 of these cars were built, so we don’t know for sure and we just keep researching.

The other thing most unique about the 1968 program was the Magic Mirror trim tag on the firewall. You don’t see that on any other Camaro from Yenko. Most people will never remove their trim tag. I think the 1968 Yenkos are a little easier to identify, as that was the only year they received that Yenko tag in the doorjamb. Besides the Stinger Corvairs, the 1968s were the only ones to use that tag.

In the end, we want the cars to be as accurate as possible. We don’t work on them for the customer to simply cash out. We look at them as a caretaker might, believing that 50 or 100 years from now, somebody looking at what we did will know it was done right. We might be gone, but hopefully the cars will still be here and be cared for. —Brian Henderson

The Yenko resides in the Edwards family’s large basement display area, which showcases some of George’s other cars, including his rare coffin-nosed 1937 Cord, which he restored as well.

The 1968 Camaros were the only ones to receive this Yenko tag in the doorjamb.

The post Original Owners Buy, Sell, Rebuy & Restore Rare 1968 Yenko Super Camaro appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/original-owners-buy-sell-rebuy-restore-rare-1968-yenko-super-camaro/ via IFTTT

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I’ve Photographed More Than 180 Girls And Their Cats To Prove That Cat Ladies Are Awesome

I started Girls and Their Cats on Instagram two years ago as a way to showcase cat ladies in a positive light. These are some of the most heartwarming stories from the series.

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You can also see my previous post here.

More info: Instagram | girlsandtheircats.com

Anna Agneta & Captain

“My husband Brian and I used to live in this old loft building in Toronto called The Coffin Factory, that’s what it was before people started living there. It was right next to this abattoir and around it there lived a colony of feral cats. They probably thrived from the waste of the pigs slaughtered there. They all looked tough as hell. Our dog wouldn’t even go near them. One day my friend Agi and her boyfriend at the time had a new cat mom and her kittens arrive on their doorstep. A friend of theirs had found her and dropped her off. She was no doubt from the colony, a beautiful pale grey calico with exotic light green eyes and orange ringlets on her tail. They named her Nala. When the kittens were ready to find new homes, we thought we’d go take a look. I remember going down through the maze-like hallways of The Coffin Factory to her unit. There were 6 kittens and they were all nuts, one climbing on something, a couple napping on the couch, another chasing a toy across the floor, they were everywhere. I wasn’t sure if we should get a cat since we travel and move around a lot, but Brian said “Of course we’ll take one of the kittens, we’ll make it work!” Ok, we’re getting a kitten. I’m not sure which came first, his boss-like swagger or his name, Captain. Probably his name but he grew into it so well I can’t imagine him as anything else. He’s always liked to ride around on our shoulders, I think it comes from his nature of liking to be up high and perhaps escape our overly affectionate dog when he was too small to ward her off. He’s a cat and can’t help but do cat-like things, like wake us up when be wants food, showing a certain remorselessness when he chews on expensive computer cords, but behind those things there’s something of higher being capable of great love and affection. Anyone who spends enough time with him falls completely in love. He tends to really affect people and share special moments with them. I feel very lucky that I get to be his cat mama.” Anna Agneta is a model and musician. She plays guitar in a Canadian indie rock band called Dusted.

Christene Barberich & Phoebe

“Two years ago, on New Year’s day, I was finishing up my usual annual ritual—bringing my journal with me from the previous year to a special place and taking stock of all the highlights and accomplishments of the year past. This time around, I chose the Mondrian hotel. And as I sat there detailing the events of the year, I began to feel very low, reflecting on another year gone by that I hadn’t had a child. Not that I hadn’t tried—I had and failed a few more miserable times. Amid all the wonderful things blossoming in my life, that one enduring defeat never seemed to stop lingering, casting a shadow over every small happiness. But, always, on this day for the past four years that we��d been trying, it hurt the most. On the way home from my ritual, I passed an animal hospital in my neighborhood. I saw a fluffy, white cat named Chalky in the window up for adoption, and went inside. I asked to meet Chalky, without even checking in with my husband about the prospect of fostering him. The attendant seemed delighted by my interest, but kept suggesting I meet another cat instead. Her name was Cora and she was deemed “special needs” because she’d lost her leg in a car accident the year prior. For some reason, I felt determined it was Chalky who should come home with us that day, but it was my husband who insisted we meet Cora since she’d been bounced around in foster care for months. About a half-hour later, my husband met me there. I was in kind of a daze, and didn’t even know what I was doing, but felt strangely guided to do it anyway. They took us into a small visitor’s room where they do potential pet-parent meet-and-greets. A few moments later, the door cracked open, and in popped this tiny, tiger-striped head—her bigs eyes were so wide and curious. She was so small but so elegant. She hopped in and I watched her look up at both of us, pensively, and then curl around Kevin’s ankle. He scooped her up with one hand and just looked at me, like, “Let’s get out of here.” And that was it. We brought her home. She hid out in her furry little cat house that she’d lived in at the shelter, until she gradually got used to roaming the apartment and finding new spots to claim as her own. It’s obvious she’s deeply devoted to Kevin, likes to hide around corners and pounce on his feet and ankles. But with me, she’s more soulful and sturdy. She sleeps between my legs and then, at some point during the night, she sneaks up alongside my chest and purrs until we both fall asleep again. I still don’t have a baby of my own. But Phoebe reminded me of how good it feels to love something, to really care for it and need that simple love in return. To feel like destiny had intervened and she had found her rightful home, too. Phoebe taught me it wasn’t all my fault that I couldn’t have a baby, and helped me find the courage to write about what all that loss was like in an essay on the website I co-founded,@Refinery29. The constant love and presence of a soul like Phoebe, reminded me that life does go on. That through heartbreak and failure and so much regret, comes other kinds of love and nurturing that you’re not always expecting, but that feeds you just the same. Very simply, Phoebe opened my heart again. And, she made me believe in myself, too, maybe in a way I never had before. “ Christene is the co-founder of Refinery29.

Simone Thompson & Nigel

“It was the brutal winter of 2015 & as I sat in my poorly heated Flatbush apartment my girlfriend presented me with a tiny, scrappy little black kitten by the name of Nigel. Nigel was big enough to fit in the palm of my hand and street smart enough to be unmistakably feral. He possessed a spastic quality and had been a rescue from East NY. Having previously sustained a head injury, he has a permanent head tilt which gives him the appearance of a cat that’s constantly questioning authority. He loved to scratch, bite and took joy in breaking everything within site. The adjustment period was admittedly tough. As a self pro-claimed cat lady I had a hard time warming up to him. He rarely was calm & antagonized me whenever he could. My girlfriend & I even began to fight because she accused me of not “loving our child.” After a few months though it all changed. We moved to Bedstuy & the change in scenery brought a new, less manic Nigel. His catastrophic kitten stage was finally over. He still bites but gives me cuddles.. sometimes. Most days he watches TV with me & I spend a lot of time asking him important life questions that go unanswered. He’s proved himself to be our difficult but loving child that my partner & I adore.”

Athena Wisotsky & Frikki

“I’ve wanted a cat of my own for so long, but I’ve moved a lot the last three years and there was always something in the way. I never felt settled enough, or the apartment was too small, or my housemates weren’t on board. I have three bodega cats I visit as often as I can, but it’s not the same as coming home to a little creature of my own. When my mother Donna passed away suddenly last month, I had the responsibility to re-home her cats in the middle of everything else that was going on. She had five! Two ladies that we got when I was in high school, and three siblings from one of them. They were her joy and companions, and it was so important to me to find safe and stable homes for them. She would always send me photos of them curled in her lap, or hamming it up, and tell me whatever antics they were getting up to. We joked that she would have to mail one to NYC. When she passed away, it felt like the right thing to do to adopt one of them. We didn’t choose Frikki at first. Her brother is a lot more social, happy and almost comically beautiful. But I realized that with her skittish temperament, she’d need a lot of patience and love. And my decidedly not-a-cat-person boyfriend Max even took to her right away (it was her giant cartoon eyes), so little Frik flew with us from Oregon to New York. It’s been less than a month but she’s warming up a lot, and so is the household. Max initially didn’t want her on the bed, but he caved within 3 days when he realized the power of a cat snug. I’ll often catch them cuddling in bed, and he will text me “How are my girls?” if I am working at home — sometimes with her in my lap. They have bonded already and it warms my heart. This isn’t the way I ever imagined getting my first cat, but having her around has been a major comfort in my grief. Sometimes I just sit and pet her and imagine my mom doing the same thing just a month ago. She’s a living piece of my mother’s life, I’m so happy to have her in my home.” Athena Wisotsky is a writer, editor and artist living in Brooklyn.

Jess Peterson & Oscar

“I got Oscar as a kitten from a craigslist ad. Not knowing at the time that there was a reason they put him on craigslist. He was a giant. He is now full grown at a lean 30lbs. (every doctor who has seen him claims he is the largest cat they have ever seen) Well, as most people would know, Giants tend to have bone issues. So, when Oscar was about 3 or 4 he started limping. his bones were all out of wack and eventually we discovered he had a luxating patella, which is common in dog breeds. Debating for a long time about surgery and success rates I was eventually talked into it by my cousin who is an orthopedic vet surgeon. She said it was a routine procedure and she’s done hundreds of them, and with his specific grade of luxation it was supposed to be no problem. One and done. It wasn’t. He ended up having 4 surgeries last year. It’s a lot to get into with each specific surgery that happened. It brings me to tears just thinking about it. It was the most difficult thing I have gone through in caring for another animal/being thus far in my life. It would have been impossible without the help of family and friends (most definitely my cousin and her hospital staff at Cornell Vet Specialist in Stamford). He became their favorite patient. With all the complications he actually ended up living at the hospital getting constant care for one month on two separate occasions. He even had acupuncture 3 times a week. I’ve never even had acupuncture. It was almost impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel at many points. On the day he had a successful x-ray – after the 4th surgery – it was the best feeling. I made him a hat for that day, a kitten cake, tons of cat nip and had some champagne. He just celebrated his 7th birthday. He has touched many lives. Mostly mine.” Jess is jewelry designer and painter living in greenpoint.

Ashley Meyers & Oliver

“One evening about a year ago I was walking with some friends in Brooklyn heading to some get-together, when this little peanut ran up to us out of nowhere meowing purrrfusly while staring into my soul. I was apparently born with the gift of an aura that attracts kitty cats where ever I go. This little guy seemed ravenous with hunger. (Which I know now is just his personality) with no nearby homes in site and doors to knock on to see if he belonged to anyone, I decided it was best to just care for him until we figured something out. He was social and friendly but seemed to be on the streets for a while, as he was dirty and had a little ear wound. I asked the others if they would mind if he came along and they were more than happy to include him. We stopped at an open market on the way and fed him a couple cans. We proceeded to head to our destination with a new guest in our arms as if he had been our friend all along. I had just taken in my little furball Isabella. (Not pictured because she is afraid of anyone but me and missed her opportunity to have amazing photos in her new little hat that her mommy made her). Also, I wasn’t allowed to have any pets in this apartment and my roommate at the time wouldn’t have been happy with another cat. So, my compassionate friend who bonded with him that very evening, took him in for about a week while we figured it out. My friend kept him until he had to leave for tour with his band the Mystery Lights, so his gf, took him in until she wasn’t able to keep him anymore either, despite falling in love with him as everyone did along the way. So, I took him and the rest was history. After falling in love with my last roommates cat in my previous apt I was scared to get attached to another kitty cat again, but in reality, it wasn’t much of a life without a furbaby around. Oliver keeps me laughing all day every day. He is the biggest ham you will ever meet. I call him a little space cat. He has these enormous intense eyes that never seem to blink and he’s either sitting around on the couch like a human on his butt with his legs out or against a wall on his back with all fours up in the air. He also LOVES wearing clothes. Hats not so much. Everyone that meets him becomes a fan. Oliver and his older yet tinier sister love to chase each other like hyenas in the jungle and kiss and bathe each other like little heavenly angels. Watching them be mushy together is the most heartwarming, peaceful and precious thing to witness. They also couldn’t be any more different from each other. Both in size and personality. They are total opposites, which make quite the comical team. Isabella is the cuddliest sweetest little peanut but too afraid to be held which would drive me crazy, but Oliver makes up for that part. I love picking up his big chubby body and carrying him around like a baby. They make me so happy. A home without a mushball is no sweet home at all.” Ashley Meyers is a NJ native currently living in Brooklyn and working as a freelance makeup artist.

Chelsea Trout & Mushu

“I began fostering with the NYCACC in the beginning of 2014. It was my junior year in college, and I felt simultaneously compelled to begin volunteering again and severe separation anxiety from having a pet. It was a fairly quick progression into fostering kittens for me. I started fostering 1-2 kittens every few months, and quickly escalated to 2-3 on rotation — as soon as one set would leave, I’d ask to foster another. Fast-forward two years and about 30 kittens later, I found myself living with my boyfriend in our first apartment. It took a little persuading to get him fully onboard with my obsession. Almost a year into our lease, I accepted a request to foster two “singletons,” (the name they used for any young kittens that were without a litter). One, Reed, was an adorable little fluffball only about 5 weeks old. The other, Alipha, was a bit older, at maybe 9 weeks, and reportedly needed a little more socialization to get over her shyness. I looked at Alipha as my personal challenge, because I took pride in taking foster kittens in and sending them back to the shelter as extremely people-friendly and of healthy weight. In the first couple weeks of our time with Reed and Alipha, we saw little improvement in Alipha’s temperament (this would become a trend in our time with her). Reed, however, was just as bubbly and inquisitive as could be. I also began to notice that he really enjoyed being in my presence. If I was cooking or doing the dishes in the kitchen, I would find him directly next to me sprawled out and leisurely flipping his tail around. When I’d use the bathroom, he’d mosey on in and plop himself right on the floor in front of me — waiting patiently. There was something special about our connection that stood out from all of my past fosters. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was there. I eventually found myself giving the shelter excuses as to why it was too soon to send them back to the shelter to be taken to adoption events. “I don’t think Alipha has had enough time to fully get past her shyness,” I’d tell the foster coordinators. Meanwhile, Alipha turned out to be a cat that would not soon grow out of her habits. But I simply couldn’t part with Reed — who we had begun calling Mushu. I don’t remember the exact moment it was decided, but I woke up one day knowing I wasn’t sending Mushu to any adoption events. It was July 31, 2016 when the adoption was finalized. Mushu is still the greatest companion and friend I have ever known. As I type this, he’s sleeping on his little scratch pad directly in front of me, because even though he’s not the biggest cuddler he always wants to be within eyesight. He’s extremely verbal and even talks back when you ask him questions! He’s water-obsessed and will sit perched on the kitchen sink waiting for water to come out of the faucet. He welcomes people at the door, and has such a distinct personality that friends have often said he’s “not like other cats” they’ve met. He’s unbelievably inquisitive, and doesn’t shy away from getting in your face for a sniff. Though it’s been only a year with Mushu, it feels like I’ve known him a lifetime.” Chelsea Trout is a New Yorker born and raised, and has been living in Brooklyn for the last four years. She founded a women’s discussion group called Nasty Women’s Retreat that motivates and inspires her endlessly.

Maggie Freleng, Bandit & Daisy

“I went to the shelter looking for a kitten. I’ve never had a kitten because I always take in older rescues so it was time to treat myself. But when I went to the shelter I found Bandit, a 6-month-old blind cat, the shelter worker said had been there for months. No one wanted him. It broke my heart and even though I was looking for a kitten I took him. I couldn’t imagine life without him. He melts my heart every day sometimes I cry I’m so happy we found each other and people passed him up because he’s blind. He is the most special boy in the world. He can’t see but he knows his mom. As soon as I pick him up he collapses in my arms purring, and always finds his way to nestle in my arms at night. I got Daisy when she was about 4. I was living in a farm community in Massachusetts and she was a friend’s mom’s cat. The mom just got a divorce and she couldn’t keep Daisy, or her companion Scuter, anymore. So, I took them both to avoid them going to a shelter. It was just a few months after my childhood cat Lou died at 16. Daisy had a great life living outside hunting squirrels and birds in Massachusetts. She would literally swallow them whole! (it was sad and impressive) Eventually she went to the vet where they informed me she has FIV. I was devastated. I didn’t know what this meant. I met with experts at the vet and joined community boards and it turns out that Daisy will live a fairly normal life, but she has to be an inside cat to avoid injury and transmission. It was a long hard adjustment for us. Every day she would cry and scratch at the window screens and try to sneak out. Eventually after moving back to NYC she has gotten used to her simple life playing with fake mice and laser pointers. She has been living with FIV for 7 years now and all her tests come back great. She is the best cat, and my best friend. She has been through everything with me. 10 moves, multiple partners, breakups, deaths. I couldn’t imagine life without her. Although I am starting to think more about it because she is about 11 and I know the time will come sooner than later.” Maggie Freleng is a journalist and audio producer who works from home and is obsessed with her cats.

Naomi Fry, Nina, Roo & Matilda

“Our cats, Roo and Matilda, are both very good girls, but they’re also two very different types. Roo is a large tabby. People always think she’s a man and I always get a little offended for her. She looks very dependable — she has the face of someone you’d ask to watch your laptop for you if you needed to use the bathroom at a cafe. Her body type often reminds me of the bowling bags Prada used to do; I can almost imagine attaching a shoulder strap to her and tucking her snugly under my arm. She’s six years old, and we adopted her when she was one. Nina, our daughter, was also one at the time, so they’ve been growing up together. In fact, she got her name because “roo” was Nina’s approximation of a cat’s meow when she tried to communicate with her initially. (Her original name at the shelter we got her from was Circus (!)) Probably the best part about having Roo as a cat is that she likes to sleep between me and my husband’s heads, and I often drift off with one palm underneath her, one over: a hand sandwich bursting with fuzzy goodness. Matilda (aka “Tilda” or “Tildy”) is younger and more of a wildcard. She’s slim and sprightly, mostly white with some black markings, and while she’s not exactly “bad,” she turns scratchy occasionally, which Roo never does. She has the personality of an aloof popular girl in a teen movie who you discover mid-plot actually has some problems — like maybe a dead parent or an eating disorder — that make her secretly sensitive. For instance, she can appear prancingly self-sufficient with no interest in spending time on your lap, but then she immediately goes limp and pliant when you pick her up, as if all she was waiting for was for someone to break through her brittle shell and give her the love she was craving. Matilda is about three; when we adopted her a couple of years ago, Roo was initially traumatized and spent the first couple of weeks up on the kitchen cupboards, terrified. For the next few months, every time they’d come face to face, they would paw and hiss at each other. Over time, however, they’ve gotten used to living together. They don’t like to co-snuggle or touch, but even though they’d probably deny it if they could, I think they’re really curious about one another. They love to try and sniff each other’s butts, and you can often find them hanging out together on the bed or the couch with the air of two retirees who’d rather die than exchange a single word, but who have also chosen to share the same bench at the park for the past fifteen years.” Naomi Fry is a writer living in Brooklyn, and the copy chief at T: The New York Times Style Magazine.

Alvina Bokhari & October

“I met baby October on the eve of my 21st birthday. He was the best birthday surprise! October was found inside a cardboard box behind an office in Long Island. As soon as I held him I was so in love. This is a new experience for me because October is my first pet. I definitely treat him like he’s a new born baby. I’ve been spending some time researching more about October and cats in general and I’ve found their behavior to be very interesting. I love that when he circles my leg it means he’s leaving his scent on me so other cats know I’m his. He’s very playful and loves to cuddle. We also have so much in common like our nap schedules and the fact that we aren’t too fond of the vacuum. I’m so lucky to come home to the sweetest little guy!” Alvina Bokhari currently lives in Midtown Manhattan while she attends FIT for fashion business merchandising.

Alexandra King, Lois & Maxine

“Lois and Maxine are 7-year old sisters. My husband adopted them five years ago from a no-kill shelter in Chicago, and named them after local diner waitresses. Even though they were the only kittens in the shelter that day, my husband said that everyone kept stopping to look, then immediately walking past their cage because it was clear they were not “normal” cats. Which they are not. They both have a condition called cerebellar hypoplasia (sometimes affectionately known as “wobbly cat syndrome”). It’s a brain condition in which some kittens are born with an under developed cerebellum, the part of the brain which governs motor skills. As a result, cats that have CH don’t have great balance or coordination- they walk like little drunks and don’t have that regular cat-like ability to jump. Though it sounds like a scary thing, it’s a condition that’s non-progressive, non-contagious and too few people know that it results in THE CUTEST KITTIES IN THE WORLD. They don’t do any of the asshole type things normal cats can be prone to, like scratching or biting or leaping on countertops. They’re not very bright, bless them, but they’re obsessed with people. And each other. All they want to do is cuddle. Other than not being the shiniest crayons in the pack, they are physiologically perfect. They don’t require any kind of treatments or meds or pricey trips to the vet. They have a completely normal life span. All you have to do is baby proof the house a bit (sharp corners can be a hazard) and get ready to be adored. Every morning, I wake up wearing a cat bikini, one snoozing across my chest, one on my hips. Very sadly, many kittens that show signs of CH when they are born are often destroyed, because people think that they won’t get adopted. But they are the best cats in the world! There are a bunch of rescue places on the internet that specialize in CH cat rescue. I can’t recommend enough bringing one of these little weirdos home.” Alex King is a journalist, writer and blogger. She owns an art gallery in Chinatown with her husband Isaac. She currently works at CNN, but also freelances for The Guardian and Refinery 29 among others.

Paulina Virgen & Schiap

“I met ‘the one’ in Greenpoint at the home of a woman who saved cats from the euthanasia list – her name was Eva. We knew we wanted to rescue and that perhaps we wanted a grey cat. So, I went and met the cats Eva had and fell in love with a little playful Russian Blue. He had been rescued from the streets of Bushwick and was only 2 months old at the time. Spencer (my then boyfriend, now husband) came to meet him and we agreed. This was it. A few days later Eva brought him to our apartment on North 7th and Bedford and we fell in love. Hard love. But we noticed something was different about this cat. Were his eyes a little brighter? Was his face a little rounder? We called but Eva assured us this was “our” cat. Okay, we thought – he’s here and the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Whoever he is we love him! We named his Schiaparelli after the designer Elsa Schiaparelli. I told Spencer we would either name our future child Schiap or our cat…he could chose. He chose the cat. A few days went by and Schiap made himself feel at home. He slept on our laundry bags and pawed at our feet as we walked by him. 3 days after we got Schiap I got a phone call from Eva at 9 am – she frantically confirmed our suspicion. She gave us the wrong cat!!! The numbers of the cat we chose and the cat she gave us were just reversed. She apologized profusely and told me she would come by that afternoon to swap the cats out. At that point we had already fallen in love with Schiap and figured it would be awful to send him back. We kept him and we are SO happy we did. He is the most mischievous, vain and sweet cat we’ve ever met. A few interesting things about Schiap: he pees/poos in the toilet (even covers his poop and pee with toilet paper). He is a world class hunter (birds, mice, rats, cockroaches, worms – you name it, he’s brought it). He wakes me up at least 3 times a week asking to be spooned back to sleep. generally he bites my cheek or chirps until I open my eyes then he crawls beside me and lays on his side. At that point I have to put my arm around him or the bites start! We joke that he’s Mexican like me because he loves beans and avocado.” Paulina is a fabric r&d manager for Coach.

Dinah Eke & Wolfie

“I walked into the shelter with every intention of bringing home a fat Russian Blue kitty I had seen on their website. Before I had a chance to meet said kitty, the proprietor pulled me aside and asked if I was open to looking at another cat. I assumed she would show me another Russian Blue, but instead she showed me my Wolfie- a feral black cat. He made no eye contact, in fact, he ignored me the whole time. When I reached out to pet him, he skirted to the back of the cage and hissed. I turned to her, I didn’t understand. Then she explained to me that he was wary of people due to being treated badly in the past. As a black cat, he had a higher chance of getting put down than getting adopted. Wolfie was mean as hell and I had no idea if he would take to me, but I couldn’t bare the thought of him getting killed through no fault of his own. So I brought him home. It’s been four years since we met. He is still wary of strangers, but he is the most loving kitty ever! If you are not superstitious and ever have the opportunity to adopt; please give a black kitty a chance.” Dinah Eke is a lifestyle blogger at deediary.com.

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I’ve Photographed More Than 180 Girls And Their Cats To Prove That Cat Ladies Are Awesome

I started Girls and Their Cats on Instagram two years ago as a way to showcase cat ladies in a positive light. These are some of the most heartwarming stories from the series.

Show Full Text

You can also see my previous post here.

More info: Instagram | girlsandtheircats.com

Anna Agneta & Captain

“My husband Brian and I used to live in this old loft building in Toronto called The Coffin Factory, that’s what it was before people started living there. It was right next to this abattoir and around it there lived a colony of feral cats. They probably thrived from the waste of the pigs slaughtered there. They all looked tough as hell. Our dog wouldn’t even go near them. One day my friend Agi and her boyfriend at the time had a new cat mom and her kittens arrive on their doorstep. A friend of theirs had found her and dropped her off. She was no doubt from the colony, a beautiful pale grey calico with exotic light green eyes and orange ringlets on her tail. They named her Nala. When the kittens were ready to find new homes, we thought we’d go take a look. I remember going down through the maze-like hallways of The Coffin Factory to her unit. There were 6 kittens and they were all nuts, one climbing on something, a couple napping on the couch, another chasing a toy across the floor, they were everywhere. I wasn’t sure if we should get a cat since we travel and move around a lot, but Brian said “Of course we’ll take one of the kittens, we’ll make it work!” Ok, we’re getting a kitten. I’m not sure which came first, his boss-like swagger or his name, Captain. Probably his name but he grew into it so well I can’t imagine him as anything else. He’s always liked to ride around on our shoulders, I think it comes from his nature of liking to be up high and perhaps escape our overly affectionate dog when he was too small to ward her off. He’s a cat and can’t help but do cat-like things, like wake us up when be wants food, showing a certain remorselessness when he chews on expensive computer cords, but behind those things there’s something of higher being capable of great love and affection. Anyone who spends enough time with him falls completely in love. He tends to really affect people and share special moments with them. I feel very lucky that I get to be his cat mama.” Anna Agneta is a model and musician. She plays guitar in a Canadian indie rock band called Dusted.

Christene Barberich & Phoebe

“Two years ago, on New Year’s day, I was finishing up my usual annual ritual—bringing my journal with me from the previous year to a special place and taking stock of all the highlights and accomplishments of the year past. This time around, I chose the Mondrian hotel. And as I sat there detailing the events of the year, I began to feel very low, reflecting on another year gone by that I hadn’t had a child. Not that I hadn’t tried—I had and failed a few more miserable times. Amid all the wonderful things blossoming in my life, that one enduring defeat never seemed to stop lingering, casting a shadow over every small happiness. But, always, on this day for the past four years that we’d been trying, it hurt the most. On the way home from my ritual, I passed an animal hospital in my neighborhood. I saw a fluffy, white cat named Chalky in the window up for adoption, and went inside. I asked to meet Chalky, without even checking in with my husband about the prospect of fostering him. The attendant seemed delighted by my interest, but kept suggesting I meet another cat instead. Her name was Cora and she was deemed “special needs” because she’d lost her leg in a car accident the year prior. For some reason, I felt determined it was Chalky who should come home with us that day, but it was my husband who insisted we meet Cora since she’d been bounced around in foster care for months. About a half-hour later, my husband met me there. I was in kind of a daze, and didn’t even know what I was doing, but felt strangely guided to do it anyway. They took us into a small visitor’s room where they do potential pet-parent meet-and-greets. A few moments later, the door cracked open, and in popped this tiny, tiger-striped head—her bigs eyes were so wide and curious. She was so small but so elegant. She hopped in and I watched her look up at both of us, pensively, and then curl around Kevin’s ankle. He scooped her up with one hand and just looked at me, like, “Let’s get out of here.” And that was it. We brought her home. She hid out in her furry little cat house that she’d lived in at the shelter, until she gradually got used to roaming the apartment and finding new spots to claim as her own. It’s obvious she’s deeply devoted to Kevin, likes to hide around corners and pounce on his feet and ankles. But with me, she’s more soulful and sturdy. She sleeps between my legs and then, at some point during the night, she sneaks up alongside my chest and purrs until we both fall asleep again. I still don’t have a baby of my own. But Phoebe reminded me of how good it feels to love something, to really care for it and need that simple love in return. To feel like destiny had intervened and she had found her rightful home, too. Phoebe taught me it wasn’t all my fault that I couldn’t have a baby, and helped me find the courage to write about what all that loss was like in an essay on the website I co-founded,@Refinery29. The constant love and presence of a soul like Phoebe, reminded me that life does go on. That through heartbreak and failure and so much regret, comes other kinds of love and nurturing that you’re not always expecting, but that feeds you just the same. Very simply, Phoebe opened my heart again. And, she made me believe in myself, too, maybe in a way I never had before. “ Christene is the co-founder of Refinery29.

Simone Thompson & Nigel

“It was the brutal winter of 2015 & as I sat in my poorly heated Flatbush apartment my girlfriend presented me with a tiny, scrappy little black kitten by the name of Nigel. Nigel was big enough to fit in the palm of my hand and street smart enough to be unmistakably feral. He possessed a spastic quality and had been a rescue from East NY. Having previously sustained a head injury, he has a permanent head tilt which gives him the appearance of a cat that’s constantly questioning authority. He loved to scratch, bite and took joy in breaking everything within site. The adjustment period was admittedly tough. As a self pro-claimed cat lady I had a hard time warming up to him. He rarely was calm & antagonized me whenever he could. My girlfriend & I even began to fight because she accused me of not “loving our child.” After a few months though it all changed. We moved to Bedstuy & the change in scenery brought a new, less manic Nigel. His catastrophic kitten stage was finally over. He still bites but gives me cuddles.. sometimes. Most days he watches TV with me & I spend a lot of time asking him important life questions that go unanswered. He’s proved himself to be our difficult but loving child that my partner & I adore.”

Athena Wisotsky & Frikki

“I’ve wanted a cat of my own for so long, but I’ve moved a lot the last three years and there was always something in the way. I never felt settled enough, or the apartment was too small, or my housemates weren’t on board. I have three bodega cats I visit as often as I can, but it’s not the same as coming home to a little creature of my own. When my mother Donna passed away suddenly last month, I had the responsibility to re-home her cats in the middle of everything else that was going on. She had five! Two ladies that we got when I was in high school, and three siblings from one of them. They were her joy and companions, and it was so important to me to find safe and stable homes for them. She would always send me photos of them curled in her lap, or hamming it up, and tell me whatever antics they were getting up to. We joked that she would have to mail one to NYC. When she passed away, it felt like the right thing to do to adopt one of them. We didn’t choose Frikki at first. Her brother is a lot more social, happy and almost comically beautiful. But I realized that with her skittish temperament, she’d need a lot of patience and love. And my decidedly not-a-cat-person boyfriend Max even took to her right away (it was her giant cartoon eyes), so little Frik flew with us from Oregon to New York. It’s been less than a month but she’s warming up a lot, and so is the household. Max initially didn’t want her on the bed, but he caved within 3 days when he realized the power of a cat snug. I’ll often catch them cuddling in bed, and he will text me “How are my girls?” if I am working at home — sometimes with her in my lap. They have bonded already and it warms my heart. This isn’t the way I ever imagined getting my first cat, but having her around has been a major comfort in my grief. Sometimes I just sit and pet her and imagine my mom doing the same thing just a month ago. She’s a living piece of my mother’s life, I’m so happy to have her in my home.” Athena Wisotsky is a writer, editor and artist living in Brooklyn.

Jess Peterson & Oscar

“I got Oscar as a kitten from a craigslist ad. Not knowing at the time that there was a reason they put him on craigslist. He was a giant. He is now full grown at a lean 30lbs. (every doctor who has seen him claims he is the largest cat they have ever seen) Well, as most people would know, Giants tend to have bone issues. So, when Oscar was about 3 or 4 he started limping. his bones were all out of wack and eventually we discovered he had a luxating patella, which is common in dog breeds. Debating for a long time about surgery and success rates I was eventually talked into it by my cousin who is an orthopedic vet surgeon. She said it was a routine procedure and she’s done hundreds of them, and with his specific grade of luxation it was supposed to be no problem. One and done. It wasn’t. He ended up having 4 surgeries last year. It’s a lot to get into with each specific surgery that happened. It brings me to tears just thinking about it. It was the most difficult thing I have gone through in caring for another animal/being thus far in my life. It would have been impossible without the help of family and friends (most definitely my cousin and her hospital staff at Cornell Vet Specialist in Stamford). He became their favorite patient. With all the complications he actually ended up living at the hospital getting constant care for one month on two separate occasions. He even had acupuncture 3 times a week. I’ve never even had acupuncture. It was almost impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel at many points. On the day he had a successful x-ray – after the 4th surgery – it was the best feeling. I made him a hat for that day, a kitten cake, tons of cat nip and had some champagne. He just celebrated his 7th birthday. He has touched many lives. Mostly mine.” Jess is jewelry designer and painter living in greenpoint.

Ashley Meyers & Oliver

“One evening about a year ago I was walking with some friends in Brooklyn heading to some get-together, when this little peanut ran up to us out of nowhere meowing purrrfusly while staring into my soul. I was apparently born with the gift of an aura that attracts kitty cats where ever I go. This little guy seemed ravenous with hunger. (Which I know now is just his personality) with no nearby homes in site and doors to knock on to see if he belonged to anyone, I decided it was best to just care for him until we figured something out. He was social and friendly but seemed to be on the streets for a while, as he was dirty and had a little ear wound. I asked the others if they would mind if he came along and they were more than happy to include him. We stopped at an open market on the way and fed him a couple cans. We proceeded to head to our destination with a new guest in our arms as if he had been our friend all along. I had just taken in my little furball Isabella. (Not pictured because she is afraid of anyone but me and missed her opportunity to have amazing photos in her new little hat that her mommy made her). Also, I wasn’t allowed to have any pets in this apartment and my roommate at the time wouldn’t have been happy with another cat. So, my compassionate friend who bonded with him that very evening, took him in for about a week while we figured it out. My friend kept him until he had to leave for tour with his band the Mystery Lights, so his gf, took him in until she wasn’t able to keep him anymore either, despite falling in love with him as everyone did along the way. So, I took him and the rest was history. After falling in love with my last roommates cat in my previous apt I was scared to get attached to another kitty cat again, but in reality, it wasn’t much of a life without a furbaby around. Oliver keeps me laughing all day every day. He is the biggest ham you will ever meet. I call him a little space cat. He has these enormous intense eyes that never seem to blink and he’s either sitting around on the couch like a human on his butt with his legs out or against a wall on his back with all fours up in the air. He also LOVES wearing clothes. Hats not so much. Everyone that meets him becomes a fan. Oliver and his older yet tinier sister love to chase each other like hyenas in the jungle and kiss and bathe each other like little heavenly angels. Watching them be mushy together is the most heartwarming, peaceful and precious thing to witness. They also couldn’t be any more different from each other. Both in size and personality. They are total opposites, which make quite the comical team. Isabella is the cuddliest sweetest little peanut but too afraid to be held which would drive me crazy, but Oliver makes up for that part. I love picking up his big chubby body and carrying him around like a baby. They make me so happy. A home without a mushball is no sweet home at all.” Ashley Meyers is a NJ native currently living in Brooklyn and working as a freelance makeup artist.

Chelsea Trout & Mushu

“I began fostering with the NYCACC in the beginning of 2014. It was my junior year in college, and I felt simultaneously compelled to begin volunteering again and severe separation anxiety from having a pet. It was a fairly quick progression into fostering kittens for me. I started fostering 1-2 kittens every few months, and quickly escalated to 2-3 on rotation — as soon as one set would leave, I’d ask to foster another. Fast-forward two years and about 30 kittens later, I found myself living with my boyfriend in our first apartment. It took a little persuading to get him fully onboard with my obsession. Almost a year into our lease, I accepted a request to foster two “singletons,” (the name they used for any young kittens that were without a litter). One, Reed, was an adorable little fluffball only about 5 weeks old. The other, Alipha, was a bit older, at maybe 9 weeks, and reportedly needed a little more socialization to get over her shyness. I looked at Alipha as my personal challenge, because I took pride in taking foster kittens in and sending them back to the shelter as extremely people-friendly and of healthy weight. In the first couple weeks of our time with Reed and Alipha, we saw little improvement in Alipha’s temperament (this would become a trend in our time with her). Reed, however, was just as bubbly and inquisitive as could be. I also began to notice that he really enjoyed being in my presence. If I was cooking or doing the dishes in the kitchen, I would find him directly next to me sprawled out and leisurely flipping his tail around. When I’d use the bathroom, he’d mosey on in and plop himself right on the floor in front of me — waiting patiently. There was something special about our connection that stood out from all of my past fosters. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was there. I eventually found myself giving the shelter excuses as to why it was too soon to send them back to the shelter to be taken to adoption events. “I don’t think Alipha has had enough time to fully get past her shyness,” I’d tell the foster coordinators. Meanwhile, Alipha turned out to be a cat that would not soon grow out of her habits. But I simply couldn’t part with Reed — who we had begun calling Mushu. I don’t remember the exact moment it was decided, but I woke up one day knowing I wasn’t sending Mushu to any adoption events. It was July 31, 2016 when the adoption was finalized. Mushu is still the greatest companion and friend I have ever known. As I type this, he’s sleeping on his little scratch pad directly in front of me, because even though he’s not the biggest cuddler he always wants to be within eyesight. He’s extremely verbal and even talks back when you ask him questions! He’s water-obsessed and will sit perched on the kitchen sink waiting for water to come out of the faucet. He welcomes people at the door, and has such a distinct personality that friends have often said he’s “not like other cats” they’ve met. He’s unbelievably inquisitive, and doesn’t shy away from getting in your face for a sniff. Though it’s been only a year with Mushu, it feels like I’ve known him a lifetime.” Chelsea Trout is a New Yorker born and raised, and has been living in Brooklyn for the last four years. She founded a women’s discussion group called Nasty Women’s Retreat that motivates and inspires her endlessly.

Maggie Freleng, Bandit & Daisy

“I went to the shelter looking for a kitten. I’ve never had a kitten because I always take in older rescues so it was time to treat myself. But when I went to the shelter I found Bandit, a 6-month-old blind cat, the shelter worker said had been there for months. No one wanted him. It broke my heart and even though I was looking for a kitten I took him. I couldn’t imagine life without him. He melts my heart every day sometimes I cry I’m so happy we found each other and people passed him up because he’s blind. He is the most special boy in the world. He can’t see but he knows his mom. As soon as I pick him up he collapses in my arms purring, and always finds his way to nestle in my arms at night. I got Daisy when she was about 4. I was living in a farm community in Massachusetts and she was a friend’s mom’s cat. The mom just got a divorce and she couldn’t keep Daisy, or her companion Scuter, anymore. So, I took them both to avoid them going to a shelter. It was just a few months after my childhood cat Lou died at 16. Daisy had a great life living outside hunting squirrels and birds in Massachusetts. She would literally swallow them whole! (it was sad and impressive) Eventually she went to the vet where they informed me she has FIV. I was devastated. I didn’t know what this meant. I met with experts at the vet and joined community boards and it turns out that Daisy will live a fairly normal life, but she has to be an inside cat to avoid injury and transmission. It was a long hard adjustment for us. Every day she would cry and scratch at the window screens and try to sneak out. Eventually after moving back to NYC she has gotten used to her simple life playing with fake mice and laser pointers. She has been living with FIV for 7 years now and all her tests come back great. She is the best cat, and my best friend. She has been through everything with me. 10 moves, multiple partners, breakups, deaths. I couldn’t imagine life without her. Although I am starting to think more about it because she is about 11 and I know the time will come sooner than later.” Maggie Freleng is a journalist and audio producer who works from home and is obsessed with her cats.

Naomi Fry, Nina, Roo & Matilda

“Our cats, Roo and Matilda, are both very good girls, but they’re also two very different types. Roo is a large tabby. People always think she’s a man and I always get a little offended for her. She looks very dependable — she has the face of someone you’d ask to watch your laptop for you if you needed to use the bathroom at a cafe. Her body type often reminds me of the bowling bags Prada used to do; I can almost imagine attaching a shoulder strap to her and tucking her snugly under my arm. She’s six years old, and we adopted her when she was one. Nina, our daughter, was also one at the time, so they’ve been growing up together. In fact, she got her name because “roo” was Nina’s approximation of a cat’s meow when she tried to communicate with her initially. (Her original name at the shelter we got her from was Circus (!)) Probably the best part about having Roo as a cat is that she likes to sleep between me and my husband’s heads, and I often drift off with one palm underneath her, one over: a hand sandwich bursting with fuzzy goodness. Matilda (aka “Tilda” or “Tildy”) is younger and more of a wildcard. She’s slim and sprightly, mostly white with some black markings, and while she’s not exactly “bad,” she turns scratchy occasionally, which Roo never does. She has the personality of an aloof popular girl in a teen movie who you discover mid-plot actually has some problems — like maybe a dead parent or an eating disorder — that make her secretly sensitive. For instance, she can appear prancingly self-sufficient with no interest in spending time on your lap, but then she immediately goes limp and pliant when you pick her up, as if all she was waiting for was for someone to break through her brittle shell and give her the love she was craving. Matilda is about three; when we adopted her a couple of years ago, Roo was initially traumatized and spent the first couple of weeks up on the kitchen cupboards, terrified. For the next few months, every time they’d come face to face, they would paw and hiss at each other. Over time, however, they’ve gotten used to living together. They don’t like to co-snuggle or touch, but even though they’d probably deny it if they could, I think they’re really curious about one another. They love to try and sniff each other’s butts, and you can often find them hanging out together on the bed or the couch with the air of two retirees who’d rather die than exchange a single word, but who have also chosen to share the same bench at the park for the past fifteen years.” Naomi Fry is a writer living in Brooklyn, and the copy chief at T: The New York Times Style Magazine.

Alvina Bokhari & October

“I met baby October on the eve of my 21st birthday. He was the best birthday surprise! October was found inside a cardboard box behind an office in Long Island. As soon as I held him I was so in love. This is a new experience for me because October is my first pet. I definitely treat him like he’s a new born baby. I’ve been spending some time researching more about October and cats in general and I’ve found their behavior to be very interesting. I love that when he circles my leg it means he’s leaving his scent on me so other cats know I’m his. He’s very playful and loves to cuddle. We also have so much in common like our nap schedules and the fact that we aren’t too fond of the vacuum. I’m so lucky to come home to the sweetest little guy!” Alvina Bokhari currently lives in Midtown Manhattan while she attends FIT for fashion business merchandising.

Alexandra King, Lois & Maxine

“Lois and Maxine are 7-year old sisters. My husband adopted them five years ago from a no-kill shelter in Chicago, and named them after local diner waitresses. Even though they were the only kittens in the shelter that day, my husband said that everyone kept stopping to look, then immediately walking past their cage because it was clear they were not “normal” cats. Which they are not. They both have a condition called cerebellar hypoplasia (sometimes affectionately known as “wobbly cat syndrome”). It’s a brain condition in which some kittens are born with an under developed cerebellum, the part of the brain which governs motor skills. As a result, cats that have CH don’t have great balance or coordination- they walk like little drunks and don’t have that regular cat-like ability to jump. Though it sounds like a scary thing, it’s a condition that’s non-progressive, non-contagious and too few people know that it results in THE CUTEST KITTIES IN THE WORLD. They don’t do any of the asshole type things normal cats can be prone to, like scratching or biting or leaping on countertops. They’re not very bright, bless them, but they’re obsessed with people. And each other. All they want to do is cuddle. Other than not being the shiniest crayons in the pack, they are physiologically perfect. They don’t require any kind of treatments or meds or pricey trips to the vet. They have a completely normal life span. All you have to do is baby proof the house a bit (sharp corners can be a hazard) and get ready to be adored. Every morning, I wake up wearing a cat bikini, one snoozing across my chest, one on my hips. Very sadly, many kittens that show signs of CH when they are born are often destroyed, because people think that they won’t get adopted. But they are the best cats in the world! There are a bunch of rescue places on the internet that specialize in CH cat rescue. I can’t recommend enough bringing one of these little weirdos home.” Alex King is a journalist, writer and blogger. She owns an art gallery in Chinatown with her husband Isaac. She currently works at CNN, but also freelances for The Guardian and Refinery 29 among others.

Paulina Virgen & Schiap

“I met ‘the one’ in Greenpoint at the home of a woman who saved cats from the euthanasia list – her name was Eva. We knew we wanted to rescue and that perhaps we wanted a grey cat. So, I went and met the cats Eva had and fell in love with a little playful Russian Blue. He had been rescued from the streets of Bushwick and was only 2 months old at the time. Spencer (my then boyfriend, now husband) came to meet him and we agreed. This was it. A few days later Eva brought him to our apartment on North 7th and Bedford and we fell in love. Hard love. But we noticed something was different about this cat. Were his eyes a little brighter? Was his face a little rounder? We called but Eva assured us this was “our” cat. Okay, we thought – he’s here and the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Whoever he is we love him! We named his Schiaparelli after the designer Elsa Schiaparelli. I told Spencer we would either name our future child Schiap or our cat…he could chose. He chose the cat. A few days went by and Schiap made himself feel at home. He slept on our laundry bags and pawed at our feet as we walked by him. 3 days after we got Schiap I got a phone call from Eva at 9 am – she frantically confirmed our suspicion. She gave us the wrong cat!!! The numbers of the cat we chose and the cat she gave us were just reversed. She apologized profusely and told me she would come by that afternoon to swap the cats out. At that point we had already fallen in love with Schiap and figured it would be awful to send him back. We kept him and we are SO happy we did. He is the most mischievous, vain and sweet cat we’ve ever met. A few interesting things about Schiap: he pees/poos in the toilet (even covers his poop and pee with toilet paper). He is a world class hunter (birds, mice, rats, cockroaches, worms – you name it, he’s brought it). He wakes me up at least 3 times a week asking to be spooned back to sleep. generally he bites my cheek or chirps until I open my eyes then he crawls beside me and lays on his side. At that point I have to put my arm around him or the bites start! We joke that he’s Mexican like me because he loves beans and avocado.” Paulina is a fabric r&d manager for Coach.

Dinah Eke & Wolfie

“I walked into the shelter with every intention of bringing home a fat Russian Blue kitty I had seen on their website. Before I had a chance to meet said kitty, the proprietor pulled me aside and asked if I was open to looking at another cat. I assumed she would show me another Russian Blue, but instead she showed me my Wolfie- a feral black cat. He made no eye contact, in fact, he ignored me the whole time. When I reached out to pet him, he skirted to the back of the cage and hissed. I turned to her, I didn’t understand. Then she explained to me that he was wary of people due to being treated badly in the past. As a black cat, he had a higher chance of getting put down than getting adopted. Wolfie was mean as hell and I had no idea if he would take to me, but I couldn’t bare the thought of him getting killed through no fault of his own. So I brought him home. It’s been four years since we met. He is still wary of strangers, but he is the most loving kitty ever! If you are not superstitious and ever have the opportunity to adopt; please give a black kitty a chance.” Dinah Eke is a lifestyle blogger at deediary.com.

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