#but as much as a pain in the ass as Jack is matthew still loves him

[miaisinlovewithlukehughes]

It’s so easy to love you

Luke HughesXOc/reader

Okay let’s get this show on the road… I guess

Uhm description yeah

I cannot stand the y/n thing so sorry but we’re gonna give her a name, Victoria Tkachuk, as you could guess she’s Brady and Matt’s sister, her other sister is away at college, justice for Taryn…

Handsome ass? Sorry, we’re gonna kick it off with Victoria and Luke on the way to the lake house

Warnings: language, implied sex but nothing explicit, having each others underwear? It’s an accident I swear, I think that’s it but let me know if you catch anything else

You look over to Luke from your position in the passenger seat, he looks troubled. Although, that’s to be expected when you’re going to be spending practically the entire summer cooped up in a house with your brothers and his brothers, while still trying to manage keeping this a secret from them. It’s not like it happened on purpose, it just kinda happened. It’s been going on for 5 months pretty much smoothly, other than duker being a pain in the ass and flaunting that he’s the only one who knows. You guys didn’t even tell him, he just walked in at an inconvenient time…

“You good lukey?” You ask with a concerned smile, he glances from the road to you in one fleeting moment and returns a nice smile. “Yeah Vicky don’t worry about me, just worried about how much time I’m gonna be losing with you cuz of those dimwits” he says while keeping his focus on the road “I know honey but your just gonna have to endure it for the time being, besides we’ll be back to the dorms before you know it” you say while raising a hand to rub at his arm. As far as your brothers are concerned you and Luke barely know each other, just because it was like that before. Your parents use to own a lake house just like the Hughes down here and you would spend a lot of time together but you and Luke never really spoke despite being the closest in age. You only started talking when you both got into Umich, you didn’t really know anyone when you started so when you saw Luke at a party you ran to him as a safety net, turns out he only really knew his hockey buddies and also needed a bit of a safety net. From then on you two were inseparable, the best of friends, then after one night at a party, things got a bit heated and you became more than the best of friends. You snap out of your small flashback when Luke reaches over the dash to grab your thigh “it’s gonna be hard keeping my hands to myself all summer long baby” he says with a sly smirk on his face “oh well your just gonna have to manage now won’t you?” You say with a chuckle and grab his hand on your thigh.

You guys pull up to the house and Luke takes his hand out of yours and places it back on the dash… wow an entire summer of this. You look over at him with a small frown and check your surroundings before placing a small kiss on his lips, “for all the times I won’t be able to do that when I want to these next couple of months” you say leaning back into your own seat. “Great cuz that’ll make up for it” Luke says with a small smile and a roll of his eyes. You look to the house to see all the annoying little shits come running out… oh lord.

“Hey matty!” You say as you get out of the car, of course Matthew is the first one to get to you. “Hey little sis!!” Matthew says as he bear hugs you. As you’re struggling to breath, you feel another familiar pair of arms wrap around you further cutting off your air flow. “Hi Brady! Alrighty boys let’s loosen up a bit and remember not to strangle our sister please!” You say hitting Matthew’s chest a bit. “Right sorry” Brady says a bit flustered, you smile at the two that you haven’t seen in so long and risk a glance over at Luke who seems to be going through a similar process trying try pry Jack off of him, while Quinn is on the sidelines laughing. You chuckle at their antics and look back to your own fuck faces “alright dumb and dumber how about we start unloading the car please and thank you!” You say with a snap of your fingers. They look annoyed at the nicknames and you can definitely hear Brady mumbling about some “bossy” but don’t care. You step to the trunk and pull it open with the press of a latch, “okay so orange bags are mine, red bags are Luke’s” you say pointing to the luggage, the boys take the orange bags and begin the walk up to where you’ll be staying, you grab the last bag of yours and make your way to the front to grab your blanket.

As you open the door to the house your greeted with the familiar sight of the home you grew to be so fond of, as well as the familiar sent of candles and air fresheners Ellen must have stocked before she left a couple weeks ago with Jim, they came to visit Luke at the dorms and popped by yours to see how you were doing as well, you do truly love them. You look over to the flight of stairs and messily make your way up trying not to drop your blanket you are hanging onto by a fingernail, as you finally make it to the top you follow the sound of laughter and thuds, it’s gonna be a long two months. You push open the door to see the boys messing with your bags and throwing your clothes at each other. Children you swear “boys!” You yell starting them into dropping whatever is in their hands “put whatever you threw around back into my bags and at least let me try to unpack before messing with my things.” You say already tired of them. They have guilty looks on their faces and start putting things back, they give you a measly little smile each and scatter out of the room. You sigh and set your things on the bed before making your way back downstairs. You see Jack, Quinn, and your Luke talking and laughing, the boys spot you and Jack comes running. He hugs you and picks you up a little “hey little Tkachuk how’s it going” he says setting you down, you’re still a bit startled by the interaction and laugh with wide eyes “I’m good, how are you rowdy?” You ask and glance over to Quinn who hugs you gently and back away “hey kid” he says “hey quinny” you say with a grin, you put your attention back on Jack who looks to be vibrating with excitement “okay who gave this kid caffeine” you say with a small laugh and point to Jack looking him up and down “shutup” he says hiding a small smirk. You just roll your eyes and look over to Luke who seems to already be looking at you “bags unpacked yet?” he asks you with a slight nod of his head “nooo…” you say looking to the staircase, “well then how about you go do that” he says sounding annoyed, but he’s still sporting a small smile “finnneee” you say and make your way back upstairs.

As you make it to your small room again you head to the bed where you’ve set your bags, and unzip them one by one, you start to slowly go through them and lazily throw them in your drawers, top drawer will be bras and underwear, other top drawer will be socks and bathing suits, the drawer under that will be shirts, the drawer next will be pants, the drawer under that with be shorts and the final drawer will be hoodies, what you didn’t have a drawer for though would be Luke’s boxers… when the fuck did that get into your luggage, sure you had a few shirts and hoodies and maybe even sleep shorts but you do not remember this being in here. You ball them up in your hands and make your way across the hall to your boyfriend’s room, you don’t bother knocking and just walk in and close the door behind you. He looks behind him with an unimpressed expression until he sees it’s you, his eyes widening in surprise and his eyebrows raising “oh hey what are you doing in here, couldn’t take it, needed to be with me so soon?” He says in a mocking tone. You roll your eyes “no you little shit because of what I just found in my duffle” you say and throw the boxers at him with a surprising amount of strength for it being a thin piece of clothing. He looks down and starts laughing “what is so funny.” You say annoyed. “You packed my boxers?” He says still chuckling “oh no I did not fucker egg, or at least I didn’t mean to, stop leaving ur shit in my room” you say and start to make your way out. You stop when you hear Luke’s voice from behind you pipe up “oh you’re one to talk princess” he says pulling a pair of red lace panties from his duffel. “What!” You say making a move to grab them, he pulls them away at the last second “uh uh, finders keepers” he says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“Oh what do you even need those for give them back” you say reaching for them again “whatever I want.” He says with a smile and shoves them back into his bag. “Oh yeah what if someone sees those in your room huh, there’s only one girl in this house” you say crossing your arms. “I’m willing to take that risk, but are you willing to take the risk of being in my room with no explanation, when we aren’t even that close Victoria?” He says pushing you towards the door. You scoff and open the door “this is not over… perv” you say walking out the door and closing his harder than necessary and make your way back to your own room.

Okay we’re gonna end it here, because this is gonna be a series, sorry this is so short but it’s late and I’m tired but hey at least we started it right? … right?

[plantinghobbies]

Growing Pains

Two: Sure I’d Never Be Found

Author’s Note: Back from some traveling and finally had dedicated time to write. I’ve been overwhelmed by the support for the first chapter. Thank you so much, revisiting your notes kept me motivated when I struggled to focus or hit a block. The incredible @solipsisticno1 also helped keep my ass in gear. This’ll be a fast and slow burn (I’m a Gemini so cannot escape my love for duality). Welcome all constructive critique, favorite parts, questions, etc - so grateful for any and all feedback. Ok, here’s more of Tess and Matty.

It’s the longest he’s spent near mountains since he left home. Growing up, the idea of vastness had scared him; he doesn’t like to be reminded of how small and microscopic his existence is in the very grand scheme of things. Sometimes, he’ll lie awake at night fixated on just how tenuous life is, how quickly something outside of his control could end it. He wonders what he’d be remembered for – his art or his infamy? On particularly bad days, he wonders if he’d be remembered for long at all.

But the panoramic views of the peaks from the house the label rented him have the opposite effect. After years of touring in cramped bunks and living in packed cities, he feels the space around him palpably, like he’s been curled into a ball for too long and is finally able to stretch out.

When he’d announced his plans to spend the band’s hiatus working on some solo material with Jack in the States, he’d been most nervous about telling his band mates. Even though they’d always been supportive of each other branching out in various ways, this felt different somehow. It was one thing for George to work on remixing the odd single or producing with other artists, it was quite another to put out a whole solo record as Matty was planning, with a potential tour as well. But, as they had for the last twenty years, the guys had his back one hundred percent.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the call from his mum that came in the night before he left. She’d seemed antsy when he’d seen her for a bon voyage dinner two nights ago, but he chalked it up to her not wanting to say goodbye.

“Matthew, I’m still not sure if I should even be telling you this, had to really talk myself up to it. But I know I’d be kicking myself later if something happened.” There’s a tremor in her voice that he hasn’t heard in years.

Oh God, he thinks, she’s sick. Worse, she’s dying. His mind already flashing to her funeral, him attempting to perform a song for her before he breaks down in tears, failing her in this final act.

“You know I am so proud of you, and I wouldn’t ever dream of questioning your sobriety. But you’ve never been on your own like this without your support system – and lord knows neither have I – but it’s not easy. So I just need to say be careful, be vigilant, ask for help when you need it. I’m a plane ride away.”

The indignation that reared up at him was visceral. 34 years old, several years in recovery, and she still didn’t trust him. Looking back, he knows he could have handled it better. He’s proud of himself for not blowing up at her, something a younger version of him would have absolutely done. But he knows he was curt, wanting to punish her, inflict hurt like what had welled up in him at the thought that his own mum doubted him.

After the first few days of wandering his house, un-showered and aimless, he’d begun to see what his mother meant. The process of writing and recording is inherently unstructured, at least for him, filled with days where he does nothing and nights of manic activity. It’s him, sitting around with his own thoughts, picking at the scabs and scar tissue of his past. He didn’t realize how much he relied on the rhythm of others - the band, the tour - to provide structure for him. For the first time in his life, he is without those things, and the space that it creates feels like a blessing and a curse.

In the couple of weeks since, he’s settled in a bit more, has found a gym and can now navigate to Jack’s studio and back without relying on his phone. The word routine has always rubbed him the wrong way, evoking images and associations that make him uneasy. Boring. Pedestrian. Old. When he left rehab, they’d armed him with a written routine to help ease his transition back to his “everyday life.” It was cookie cutter shit that he hadn’t even done in rehab, let alone out of it – daily meditation, making his bed, a gratitude journal. One glance at the word and the list of to-dos had him pulling up his dealer’s number before the plane had even landed.

When he finally got clean for good, a new therapist suggested he develop a structure in lieu of a routine. At first, Matty didn’t understand the difference, and he’d worried that he’d once again sunk a ton of time into bettering himself only for the system to fail him.

“What do you like to do for fun?” His therapist, David, asked. The question caught him off guard, he was expecting the beginnings of a diatribe on the benefits of eating healthy.

“You mean, besides heroin?” Matty often tried to get a rise out of David but had yet to succeed, his shit-eating grin met with nothing more than a stoic quiet. Sometimes, when he was bored or couldn’t focus during their session, he’d imagine what David’s home life was like. What does this guy do for fun? Is he a Saturday golfer and Sunday churchgoer like he looks? Or does David leave the prim façade at work, shedding his tweed jacket on his way to a BDSM club or an after-hours rave?

Finally, David indulges him. “Yes, besides heroin.”

That was easy. “Music.”

“Ok, but music is also your job, which can be a source of stress. What do you like to do besides making music?”

He’s embarrassed to admit he’s a bit stumped. Over the years, he’s amassed a laundry list of abandoned hobbies – some lasting for a few days, others a few months. But only one has ever lasted long-term. Well, social media but that’s more of a habit he’s adopted to avoid other, worse vices.

“Umm, honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t really ever been able to keep up with one long-term besides writing songs.”

“Ok” David smiled “let’s start there.”

In the end, he was glad that he stuck with it. Nowadays, Matty had a simple list of things that he liked to do that help him feel his best – he isn’t regimented about doing them, which he thinks is how he’s been able to stick with it for so long. They didn’t cure his addictive cravings but they kept them at bay. He still resented the amount of effort that was required for him to have a “normal” day - but it was better than the alternative.

Given how late he got in from the studio the night before, he should still be in bed. He and Jack had been holed up for almost two days straight, capitalizing on a burst of creative energy that had them laying down the rough cuts of three songs and the outlines of a fourth. When Jack had finally gone home to Margaret, he’d kicked Matty out of the studio as well, demanding that he shower, eat and sleep – in that order. He’d caught a few hours of shut eye but the chord progression he’s stuck on has him unable to quiet his mind enough to rest. What’s new? Unable to even muster the focus needed to make tea, he settles for coffee instead. The expensive coffee machine gurgles next to him as he stares out the window, realizing that he can’t remember the last time he’d been outside. Maybe “touching grass” (he refuses to admit that he might be too old for certain phrases) would help unstick it?

It’s the first time the front porch has seen any action since his arrival and he takes a minute to get situated, shifting his chair this way and that. Finally satisfied, he looks up just in time to catch the vaguely familiar side profile of a woman walking by with her dog. Before the image registers in his brain, she’s gone. He finishes his coffee then heads out to jui jitsui before meeting Jack.

That afternoon is one of the most productive days in the studio so far, he feels like they’re getting somewhere. He’s desperate to sustain the momentum, to try to quell the intrusive, insecure thoughts that he can’t do this on his own. No amount of encouragement from Jack has helped, he needs to see it for himself.

He’s not above relying on superstition and decides to do everything the same the next day, including watching the sunrise on the porch, staring at the coffee as he swirls his mug. The jingling of a leash has him tilting his head up, eyes journeying up long legs, tracing an hourglass figure that had been hidden by the bar, meeting her piercing eyes – yep, that’s her. He leans forward in his seat, casting about for a witty comment to put her on her heels the way she had put him on his with that story the other night. But he doesn’t get a chance, her eyes seeming to look right through him as she passes by.

At first, he convinces himself that she just didn’t see him, unable to accept that he hadn’t left any impression on this woman. The next few days find him inching his chair closer and closer to the sidewalk each morning, but her and her dog just sail past without a second glance, seemingly immune to his presence. And listen, he’s not a dickhead - it’s not like she owes him any acknowledgement. He understands more than most how rare uninterrupted time to yourself can be in this day and age. But he hears her daily greeting to the older man who sits on his porch reading the paper a few doors down! So, it feels like she’s ignoring him specifically and intentionally – and the question of why is driving him mad. It scratches at sensitive scar tissue where his admittedly oversized ego meets a more fragile self-esteem, seizes on feelings of being unremarkable and weaponizes them. Has his overactive mind casting about for various reasons for her silence, most of them bad. She doesn’t recognize him, not even from the other night. Or worse, she does.

The rest of the week in the studio is a bit of a wash.

Saturday finds him bored and antsy, with little to do and even less motivation. Trying to occupy himself, he sets his sights more firmly on getting a rise out of her, any acknowledgement really. Just to get her to crack once, he tells himself, and then he’ll leave it be. He doesn’t dwell on why he gets so bothered by apathy, physically shakes away memories that surface uninvited in his mind - his mother’s glazed expressions, his exhaustive attempts to garner her attention. Getting a reaction from people was his coping mechanism long before it was his job.

Pulling the Adirondack chair - so cliche but also so bloody comfortable – right up to the fence, he positions it at an angle in clear view of the sidewalk. Sure enough, as she approaches, her eyes land on him from behind her sunglasses. He only knows this because her step falters slightly, head dipping into the barest of nods as she passes. The thrill that Matty gets from even this subtlest reaction is a welcome change from the monotony of the last few weeks. He can imagine what George would say if he saw this “Christ mate, you’ve got to get out more.” But George isn’t here, none of them are – and that’s the problem isn’t it?

The next day, it becomes clear that she is, in fact, fucking with him. She’s walking toward him, her mouth opens to speak – Matty slides forward in his chair at the sight, ready to declare victory – and then curls it into a smirk at his earnest reaction. It’s obvious enough that it had to be intentional. Oh, game on.

His tendency to hyper-fixate is a blessing and a curse, making him a better artist but an occasionally insufferable human. He’s determined to not let her get the best of him this time around, spending downtime in the studio brainstorming how to get her to break first. The answer comes to him as he’s standing outside, having a cigarette between writing sessions. The sign hanging in the window across the street is just too cringe, too cliche, too absolutely perfect to ignore and Matty strolls out of the store with it not two minutes later.

The next morning, he’s giddy with anticipation. As she turns the corner her head is down, almost as if she’s determined not to see or been seen. At the last second though, she glances up and clocks the sign leaning against the outside of the fence right, him seated next to it with a sly smirk on his face. She stops, stares, and then - right as he’s certain she’s going to maintain their silent standoff - she barks out a laugh. It is loud and raucous and feels like a well-won prize after two weeks of continuous effort.

“Oh my god, where did you get that?” She seems surprised to hear the sound of her own voice. If she’s disappointed that she’s “lost,” it doesn’t show. He begins to tell her, in his trademark roundabout way, a winding story about the fucking writing block that him and Jack ran into which led to him being outside, to seeing the store but then back around to the song that he was working on. She is nodding along but glances at her watch twice, the dog trying to pull her to keep moving, bored of him. She opens her mouth to interrupt him, a split-second pause where she huffs and seems to question herself, before rushing out with “Listen, I gotta get this guy to the park or he’ll have a meltdown, you can tell me the rest as we walk.”

She walks on, not giving him a chance to respond as he hustles to catch up with them. He meets her on the sidewalk the next morning, not giving her a chance to pass him by again.

[punchitmrsulu]

I was playing cards yesterday and it made me remember that scene from Lost when Jack and Sawyer are playing poker for some meds and Jack wins, because of course he does, he's pretty much a genius. Sawyer is a freaking con artist but he could never hold a candle to Jack when it comes to brains. And when Jack's leaving, Sawyer asks why he didn't play him for the guns (which he's hiding from everybody cause he's still a little shit at this point) and Jack just looks back at him and answers with all the confidence in the world "When I need the guns, I'll get the guns." and that's his way of, once again, letting Sawyer know he's not in control of anything, however much he may think he is and he just walks away like the badass motherfucker he is. And then later on HE DOES GET THE GUNS PRECISELY WHEN HE NEEDS THEM AND IT'S JUST UGH!!!!

Jack will always be my blorbo!!!

[kevindayprotectionsquad]

how r ur ocs doin lately?? what've they been up to? what's the dumbest thing jack's done recently (bc we all know this boy's pure of heart and dumb of ass)?

aahhh thank you for asking!!! i've been so busy lately they have been on the back burner, but i always love talking about them! as for jack... you get it lmaoo the dumbest thing he has probably ever done was get super wasted at the pub, so much so matthew had to come get him to take him home, and on their was home, chased a cat into the woods because he wanted to catch it. he climbed the garden wall and a tree while drunk to catch the cat only to be attacked by it in the tree, which resulted in him falling out of the tree and breaking his arm and a few ribs. needless to say matthew was not pleased with him, and didn't even try to cover for him when the king asked how he got hurt. 

[whump-town]

The Bridges Between You and Me

Emily whump (even though I'm supposed to be doing other things)

no real warnings, i don't think.

On her lunch break she takes her sandwich to the roof. It’s a great escape with only one access door, one Dave showed her and warned no one could ever know about. That had been after she and Reid only barely made it out of Benjamin Cyrus’ cult of horrors and pedophilia. A peace offering, she realized, to settle the fear he hadn’t known he had of losing her. After that, she started being invited to have a drink in his office and was welcomed into the boy’s club. Something Reid had only ever told her was a thing and something Morgan turned his nose to but also secretly wanted in on. A general snobby (sensitive) shrug of dismissal - couldn’t be that cool if Hotch gets invited and they don’t.

For the last few weeks, she’s been taking her lunch up here, away from Reid’s glances and the worry lines being formed along Morgan’s brow. It’s only a matter of time, she knows, before she has to give up the spot. Only one or two more lunches before Morgan takes his concern to Garcia and they figure out the little hideout. Won’t be as much fun then, not with Morgan’s betrayed hurt and his probing questions. For now, she’s got a safe-haven.

“You’re smoking again.”

Well, she thought she did.

Leaning against the brick, one of his long legs stretched out in front of him Hotch looks up from his coffee to quirk an eyebrow at her. It’s by no means a question, he sat in silence and watched her light her cigarette and pull off it before commenting. Before drawing attention to himself and crushing their individual peace. He knows she’s smoking again, has for a while, but thought she’d kick the habit again with time. She’s only just come back from the dead, hell he’d smoke too. That or drink himself to death but the idea alone makes him shiver with distaste - the parallels between himself and his father are already too pronounced for that notion.

Where he’s expecting her to maybe smirk and dismiss him with sharp sarcasm, he’s shot down with a clenched jaw. Her eyes darken, “shut up.” As he looks away, eyes going to the cool coffee in his hand he can hear her sigh. How much has changed since she came back? She’d been angry, walked away from him without a word and that had stung more than if she’d slapped him when she found out what he spent her departure doing. Knew that he could have fought to stay and instead went like a coward. They haven’t talked since. Haven’t even looked at each other. He used to know her better than he knew himself. Now he’s not sure what he knows.

Maybe he really did kill Emily Prentiss.

She rubs her palms into her eyes, fighting back tears. She will not cry in front of Hotch but all this shit is starting to be too much. Her emotions are beyond her control. Anger and fear and anxiety and panic - each one a speeding bullet wedged in her ribcage ricocheting until she’s chipped away. Is this what he’d felt after Foyet? He had a warpath too. Morgan had pretended not to see it, dismissed it as Hotch only coming down on him but he yelled and Garcia and Reid. Two people who always get away whatever hell they’ve dug up. He’d felt bad about it, an admission that only came out after a few drinks. One he’d made to the floor.

“Got another apple crate?” She can’t say sorry. He had to her for just raising his voice a little, for getting angry when he shouldn’t have been. He always apologizes and fixes his mistakes. That’s always been one of her faults, too content to watch her burning bridge spread and takedown cities and forests. Her mother had such conflicting points of view on an apology. Sticking her nose up at the sound of the lives she took at the cost of destroying her bridges and at the same time twisting her fingers up in Emily’s hair to wrangle one from her stubborn lips. Emily had gotten so caught up in doing the very same thing that she never learned. Doesn’t know how to say those words even if she wanted to.

But Hotch… She imagines him as a boy, just as he’d described to her once. Hardly 100 pounds soaking wet at thirteen but always so much taller than the other kids. An optimist despite everything he’d been through. Coming home with the hope to find a mother who wipes his tears with the edges of her summer dress and a father who throws his hat up into the air with a praising shout when he finally manages to get somewhere on his bike without training wheels. And still opening that front door every day with so much hope and love for two people who felt him better dead.

She knows she could hit him, she could yell and scream. Burn the bridge and kill the city and he’d still hike around the mountain, he’d swim across the river and she’d find him smiling on her doorstep. Loyal as a dog. It’s why he never told anyone about his father - he just kept coming back. Reminds her painfully of that stupid quote from Einstein.

He looks up at her, surprised as he nods that he does have another apple crate and pulls it around for her. Right beside his. “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results”. When is he going to understand that she’s never going to stop hurting him? That he can give her that stupid look - a smirk trying to work its way up but already shining brightly in his eyes - and she’s still going to end up doing it again. Dragging him below the water’s surface. Drowning him to save herself. All she does is take and take and he won’t stop giving.

She finds herself envious of Hotch’s inability to control his vulnerabilities. That little finger count he does as he pulls in a breath through his nose, a conscious movement that is both impossible to hide and incredibly telling. Though, they all pretend he’s got them fooled. He’s sort of an anxious wreck and JJ had once concluded it’d physically kill him if he was aware of just how little he actually manages to hide from them. It hurts to see him stand just outside the comfort they show one another, afraid that he’s unwelcomed or that his being there complicates their dynamics. She wants to be known the way that they know him.

To be human so uniquely.

“Are you going to tell Jack?” she asks softly. She leans her head back against the brick, rocking it to the side to look over at him. Guilty, she looks down at the cigarette in her hand. Somehow the constant thought this stupid thing could kill her does nothing but her stomach twists, her throat tight at realization that Jack would be so upset with her. He’d be crushed to see her smoking again.

It’s a habit she picks up every now and then.

She’d picked it back up, after ten years, after joining the team. For a month she was burning through over half a pack and stopped when she walked into Strauss’ office with her recognition, one-upping Hotch’s transfer. Started again after New York… Well, when she got news of the bomb she went out and bought a pack. Chain smoked until they informed her it was Kate and Hotch. Then she went and puked in an alley. There are plenty of things that had her at least reaching for the relief of one: getting taken hostage by Benjamin Cyrus, Matthew dying and dragging up her past, Reid getting Anthrax, that bastard George Foyet. If she’s perfectly honest she never really stopped after everything with Foyet.

She needed the peace, the ease of routine, and familiarity. Someone had to keep their shit together and it certainly wasn’t Hotch…

Teenage rebellions are such a pain in the ass once you turn twenty.

Jack had seen her one afternoon, she’d been finishing the one she pulled into Hotch’s driveway with. Her attention on not being found out by the man she’d assumed was inside. A safe assumption because Jack told her as much but only after he’d cried, only after he had her promise she’d be done. No more (even if she did finish the pack - but she’d felt awful with everyone after… even if she did pick up another pack).

And the guilt burns through the addiction, making her nearly sick at the thought of finishing the one in her hand.

He smiles. Sisyphus at the bottom of his hill, boulder weighing him down.

She hopes wherever his father is, it's miserable. Even with the fear of what lay ahead for her, the conviction she was headed for the same place as men like his father. So she convinced herself she didn’t even believe in that. But here she is again, watching herself become his father. Drawing her fist back, aimed for his forgiving smile. Taking advantage of Hotch’s loyalty, his stupid misplaced love.

“I won’t tell him.”

He’s smiling at her, pinching his eyes to flash her the black-eye she put there. Smiling with blood dripping down his chin.

She looks away. She mumbles “thanks” and takes to rubbing her fingers between her knuckles to soothe the sting of the bruising she imagines there. “How is he?” she deflects. She might as well have him laid out on his back, taking cheap shots at his ribs. “When did he get so big?” She’s got him where she wants him, kicking all the sensitive areas she knows will lay him out. Distracting him under the lure of Jack and it doesn’t matter that he’ll figure that out later just so long as it makes him smile that bloody smile and ramble about his son for a few minutes.

And after a few minutes of exposure to the sun, feeling the warmth of Hotch’s love for Jack settling around her, she almost feels like smiling too.

But that only lasts for so long. With a sigh and a silent look of disdain when his knees protest like rusted hinges when he stands and their joy shattered. But that does make her smile, even when he frowns at her humor at his expense. For a moment they’re the moon and sun, opposites circling their way around the world. Caught in a gravitational pull of nearly colliding and too far away.

He doesn’t bother her about that day on the roof or ask the question he already knows the answer to - if she’s smoking or not. She feels just enough satisfaction being fulfilled when Dave explains how Hotch found out about the roof that she doesn’t try to bring it up either. It’s fine, she tells herself. He looks at her again and she feels her frustration with him (with the world) dissipate to it’s normal simmer. Until she feels less fooled by Atlas, like she hasn’t had the world rolled over her shoulders to settle onto her bag. Her knees sink and she watches Atlas’ mighty back. Her body is aching - come back, she begs, come back.

It rushes back.

The wrong word piercing the veil and shattering the manufactured calm surrounding her. She knows, in a split second, that it was the wrong thing to say but it was too late. And as it occurred, as she flinched in the preparation for the pain to come, she thought about them. Derek standing only a foot away - the sound of his quickened breaths keeping pace for her. Giving her timing, finding her rhythm. He always keeps her steady.

Behind Derek, no doubt just a step behind Hotch, Reid’s looking over her shoulder.

And she’s sure Hotch knows, just as soon if not before she does, that this has gone tits up.

There’s no coming back. Her head hits the floor, lays her out for a moment where she can’t think past the pain blossomed out across the back of her head. All she knows is the fingers of pain wrapping around the back of her head and the chill in the air. Softly, as if submerged in mud, she can hear Hotch shouting. That tone he takes on when he’s scared, when he’s really scared. She wonders if this time he can save her or if history really does repeat itself.

“Hey, hey--” Morgan crouches down by her side. His hands covering the wound, that look in his eyes. He’s scared. She’s scaring them. “Stay with me, Princess. Come on, eyes open.”

And maybe history doesn’t repeat itself but she’ll be damned if it doesn’t at least rhyme.

Derek doesn’t seem to reciprocate the same humor on the matter.

“Emily.”

Mmm, she turns her head away. Morgan has this tendency to sound like a broken alarm clock. She finds herself looking up at JJ - caught in the tears in the corner of her eyes as she throws demands around at LEOs like she’s Hotch. Watching them listen like she is.

“Hang on Emily,” he begs. “Please. Just a little bit longer.”

God, she rocks her head back. Whines when Morgan shifts his weight but a hand grabs her wrists, stops her from pushing him away. “Get off me,” she grunts. She wants to kick out, to push away but Hotch moves too and under the weight of both of them she can’t move. But it hurts. It hurts so bad and she hates them. She hates Morgan pushing her away. The way that she ruined JJ and Reid’s friendship. How scared Garcia is and Dave keeps looking at her like he’s expecting her to have just disappeared. And fucking Hotch and his silent treatment.

And Jack.

Oh… Jack.

Morgan goes with her in the ambulance, the last time he’d been stopped. Hotch stands outside, his hands at his hips as she moves on and he stops there. Reid’s just behind him, always just behind him. She sees them, hazed by blood loss and everything going on but she sees them. Hotch his mountain made of man and Reid seeking his shelter from her storm.

When do they stop looking at her like that?

When do they finally realize she’s never going to stop hurting them?

She dreams about her mother.

The rain stings as it lands on her bare shoulder blades, pouring so hard it’s beating the gravel down their driveway. “Come inside, Emily!” Her mother has stepped out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the garden they have to pay someone to maintain. “You’ll catch your death out here, darling!” Her mother steps closer, into the rain. “Emily, please. Let me make you some tea.”

And that’s how she knows it’s a dream.

Her mother would never do any of those things. Never follow her out into the rain. Would have never even realized she’d gone out. She wouldn’t call her “darling”, not when one is around to hear her do it. Her mother never once made her tea.

Garcia figured out Emily’s devotion to tea after a month of having known her. Then it wasn’t just a small bonding it was an entire affair as Emily was guided through the office to the little kitchenette and shown she wasn’t the only one. Where Garcia would show her the teas Gideon liked best and where he kept them in a little metal box. Fitting, she thought, as Garcia showed her all the usual suspects and Ginger Tulsi tea which she hadn’t expected at all. Garcia is more into the fruits, anything with the picture of a fruit on it.

There was a single, mangled box of Earl Grey sitting alone on a shelf. She didn’t even have to ask to know that it had to be Hotch’s. It was.

Reid doesn’t drink tea. He would pick up the habit a year later after Gideon leaves but only to soothe his nerves. The smell would remind him of being younger, of having Gideon.

Morgan doesn’t drink tea. Couldn’t even look at it after her death. The smell made him sick, physically ill to just pass Garcia in the hall with a mug of Chai. That stupid ratio Emily invited unique to how Garcia likes tea. She’d done it for Jason too and Hotch too. Dashes of cinnamon and the additions of almond milk to curate something unique… something to leave behind. A reason for Reid to cry in the bathroom and Hotch lose himself for a moment, cursing blindly when his shaking hands drop his mug.

She left them grief.

She left them with a gaping hole in their sides and blood gushing down over their fingers.

And they still came back.

She wakes slowly, groaning at the immediate pull she feels on the stitches down her right side. Sluggishly, she realizes that no matter what she does this is going to hurt. Breathing is agonizing. Thoughts are like axe picks trying to split her skull open.

“Emily?”

She opens her eyes and finds all of them.

Reid is curled into a cot, blanket drawn up over his shoulder and face pressed down.

Garcia is sleeping with her head on Morgan’s shoulder, the two of them nearly curled into each other. Content, peaceful. How could you be anything but? Nothing can go wrong with Penelope Garcia on your side, Morgan’s calm face reflects just that.

JJ has managed to curl herself into a chair, Hotch’s suit jacket pulled up over her like a blanket. Hotch makes his chair look tiny. His legs splayed in front of him and his head tipped back, in a way that’s going to hurt him once he wakes. They look too much like they did that night, the night she died. JJ’s hair is a mess, pulled back away from her eyes but still somehow beautiful. Light and kind in a way Emily could never imitate. Hotch has these awful rings under his eyes, sharpened by his cheek bones. He’s exhausted.

He always is.

“Rather sweet, aren’t they?”

She turns her head to the sound, smiling despite herself.

Rossi has his feet kicked up on the edge of her bed, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m surprised the snoring didn’t wake you up.” He pulls his legs down slowly, bending each with care before placing it down on the ground. With a groan he rises, one hand on each side of his chair as he forces himself to motion. “Then again,” he mumbles, stepping around to a little tray. “It’s probably best you weren’t around for the trouble those two conjured up.” He motions to Morgan and Hotch with the cup in his hands, she doesn’t have to look to know that’s who he’s talking about.

She opens her mouth but her question is cut short, killed by her sore throat and impossibly dry mouth. “What’d--” she winces, coughing that turns into more of a gag. It hurts but she sees Hotch’s leg jerk, his head moves and she pushes it down. Holds her breath.

“Don’t go hurting yourself on account of him,” Rossi fusses. “He’ll take it very personally if you die… again.” He eases the sting with a smirk and it has to be the drugs because she mirrors it back. Stepping to the edge of the bed he presses a straw to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip.

A year before Foyet started killing again they went to Georgia. The strange thing was that you could actually see the heat baking in the air, the way it came up in waves up off the road. Somewhere, the memory so hazy now with the drugs in her system and the fog of that day, JJ had managed to wander off. She was out standing by a fence, a little flower pinched between her fingers. “A honeysuckle,” she said, showing them. Like the sun herself with her flower outstretched in the palm of her hand.

Hotch had smiled, genuinely, brightly. See? Even he knows when the sun is that close.

They both took a flower in their hands, showing them how to draw out a single drop of nectar.

As Rossi encourages her to have another sip she’s drawn back to that memory. The warmth of the air and Reid’s triumphant laughter when he finally got it, turning to Morgan, to Hotch to show them he did it. Something good.

“Where’d you go?”

She blinks and he’s managed to move. The whole room shifted. Darker. She sees Reid, turned over onto his back. JJ over on the couch, resting against Garcia. Her fingers trailing up and down over JJ’s arm. In her lap a book, keeping her distracted. A bag of yarns and fabrics at her feet, she’s camped out. Not going to move.

She clears her throat, “honeysuckles.” Turning her head she looks over at the others, for where Morgan and Hotch should be. She points over to the empty chair but even that hurts.

Rossi hums, he understands what she means. He’s got coffee in his hands and nods down towards it. “Morgan is taking a walk,” he says. “Too nervous to sit still. Coffee didn’t help.”

Emily nods, swallowing despite the pain grating up her throat.

“Jack,” is his answer for Hotch. “Gone to call Jessica.” He leaves out the state in which Hotch had managed to get himself worked up into. Standing here over her bed pale as a ghost and whispering something too softly for Dave to hear. A nightmare but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he advises as he settles himself down. “You’ll need all the strength you can manage when they get up.”

She nods, that makes sense. That way she’ll be alert to keep Morgan and Reid out of her jello. The drugs… They throw her off and she stumbles, chokes. “Dave?” He’ll stay, won’t he? He won’t leave.

Dave reaches over with hands warmed from his coffee and holds her hand. “Sleep,” he whispers.

No more warmth drawn from the fires she sets. She has teas that taste like berries to look forward to. Garcia with her hair full of butterfly clips. The hours of channel flicking Morgan falls into when he’s bored. The sweet smile that will light up Reid’s face when finally gets her to agree to a round of chess. The pseudo-girls night out they'll have right here. With shirley temples and virgin pina coladas. Hotch will be there too, when thinks she doesn’t need him, but the lights have gone out and he knows what it’s like to still be scared of the dark.

She doesn’t have to set fire to another bridge to feel the warmth of something real, of something loving.

They’re right here.

[iron--spider]

I woke up at 3am yesterday to watch The Devil All the Time and I’ve been thinking about it since. I’m gonna put my thoughts and feelings and a review of sorts behind the cut, because I am gonna talk about it freely, so there will be spoilers! So don’t click if you don’t wanna see. I’ll also be discussing the content of the film and I know that might bother people, so that stuff is in here, too! And it’ll be really long because you know I can’t shut up.

So, I loved it. I loved it loved it loved it. I read the book a long time ago when I first found out Tom was gonna be in it, and the only problem I had with the book was that the POVs would change in the middle of a paragraph lmao, but other than that I thought it was pretty perfect. I knew the movie was gonna be pretty brutal, because the book is brutal, so I was prepared.

-BUT I think the critics HIGHLY HIGHLY exaggerated how bad the content was. Like, seriously, they acted as if this was gonna be a Saw movie. I was preparing for blatant, horrific gore, but it didn’t live up to their dramatics at all. There’s blood and nasty situations, but every single episode of Game of Thrones is worse than this movie, as are most episodes of any crime drama on a paid network. I actually thought they were super, super tactful of all their horrific shit. The dog death was off screen and the shot of the body (described by the critics as literally traumatic) was so quick (enough to shut your eyes) and in the dark. I also argue that particular moment is extremely important for Arvin’s journey, because it’s the moment he truly turns on his father and turns on religion entirely, and he carries it with him his whole life (it’s what he flashes back to when he says “I know what my daddy did” because it’s the marker of all Willard’s mistakes) and it winds up being one of the last things he does before he leaves everything behind. Burying Jack’s bones. So, like, I despise dog death or any animal death in my entertainment, but it’s important here and handled well. And all the worst death scenes are either extremely fast (Helen’s and Gary Matthew’s) or shown in negative (all the photos). I think Bodecker’s headshot with Bobo is probably the worst and is also pretty quick. I don’t know if this means I’m a jaded bitch, but God the way they were all whining and crying, I thought it’d be a million times worse. It could have been, with the book’s descriptions, so it was actually pretty tame. Lenora’s death affected me the most and they cut away from that, too. I guess it’ll still bother some people, but there are many, many mainstream things that are far more violent and gory than this was.

-I thought it was a beautiful movie. I never mind films that are slightly slower but I love ones that use their time to lay things out and really show us what’s going on, build the ambiance and the relationships. I loved the narration (which I was worried about), and it really made me feel like we were visiting a moment in time that was important. Like something that was written and should be learned about. Rumors in a town you’re passing through. The ghosts of past trauma and transgressions looming over everyone that’s left.

-I liked the changes they made with Roy and Theodore because I thought that storyline kinda meandered in the book and I’m glad that Roy was actually gone the whole time and not just neglecting to come back to Lenora.

-The only real complaints I can make, I’ll get out of the way here: I wanted a little bit more time with Carl and Sandy. Carl was really creepy, but he could have been much creepier. In the book he was the one looking at the pictures constantly, Not Sandy, and that really showed that he was the one with the sickness, the one pushing them forward and orchestrating it all. I thought they did well with showing how Sandy deteriorated in her efforts with him through the years, but I would have liked to see a bit more of their personal lives together and her fear of him and her genuine feelings about what they’re doing, because the book goes into that a lot more. I also wasn’t a fan of Lee finding the picture early and knowing some about what they were doing, because I liked how it was a surprise to him in the book and yet he still did all he could to cover it up. And lastly, in the book there’s a scene with Arvin after he kills Sandy and Carl where he’s in a motel and he takes like 18 showers because he can’t get the grime of what he’s done off of him, and he looks at the picture and has a nightmare about killing Sandy, and I really would have loved if they’d kept it in. It would have been another ‘acting’ moment for Tom, and it would have been nice for us to see his direct trauma and reaction to everything that’s piling on top of him.

-BUT that’s it. I loved pretty much every single other thing and decision that they made. The cinematography was TOP NOTCH. You could tell they filmed on 35mm film, you could see the grain, and it really, really added to it. Antonio Campos is a very skilled director and I trusted him at the helm of this story. Everything looked so authentic, all the sets and the costumes. The soundtrack and score were AMAZING and enhanced the film. Technically it was just perfect in every regard to me.

-Acting! Acting! God this was like...a massive testament to the casting department and the talent of these people. Everyone was on their A game. Bill Skarsgård has been on my radar since Castle Rock (which I recommend to everybody, both seasons) and he was so natural and great in this role. Haley Bennet was absolutely adorable as Charlotte, I loved her cute face and her sweet relationship with little Arvin. Riley Keough was so great as Sandy with the limited amount of time she had, and Jason Clarke is one of my favorites but he was unrecognizable in this as creepy ass Carl. Harry Melling was a far cry from Dudley Dursley and he did a great job with his screen time, too. Same with Mia Wasikowska, who didn’t have much to do (same as poor Helen in the book) but she was able to garner our sympathy anyway. Seb Stan was slimy and gross but he pulled it off so well. Eliza Scanlen has been one of my favorites since Sharp Objects (another one that’s brutal as hell but I recommend it, she’s so scary) and she was so, so great here. Robert Pattinson was ALRIGHT, everybody talks him up over this but he felt a little hammy to me and a little too over the top, but there’s no denying his talent.

-Now, the reason we’re all here. Tom. My God. As soon as it was over I just didn’t know what the hell to do, I didn’t even know how to....go on, lmfao. We all know he’s talented, that’s why we’re here, that’s why we love him, but his performance in this is just BEYOND all that. Beyond comprehension. The man is only 24 years old and he’s out here outacting people who have been in the industry for longer than he’s been alive. He is SHOCKINGLY good. I knew he’d be perfect for Arvin as soon as I read the book, but he just completely embodied this role in a way that I couldn’t have imagined. He doesn’t show up in the movie until about 45 minutes in (which doesn’t hurt it because of the strength of the leadup, Bill’s performance and the performance of little Arvin’s actor) but God, as soon as he’s there the whole thing comes to life in a way that it hadn’t before. Tom is literally just a shining light, and he draws your eye in every single scene he’s in, and when he’s not there you’re wondering when he’s gonna come back. Arvin, to me, is a very complex character—he has been inherently changed by how his father twisted religion in his childhood, how deeply he betrayed him by his behavior, but he still has a kind heart and a protective streak and the need to be strong despite the pain nearly breaking him apart from moment to moment. Tom is just outrageously good at portraying all Arvin’s little nuances, how he clenches his jaw, how his voice breaks when he’s afraid or trying to convince someone of something or get his point across, how his hands tremble after he’s done something he wishes he didn’t have to do, how his whole body wilts when he realizes he’s emulating his father. And his eyes. Tom can do so, so much with his eyes that it’s unbelievable. He tells you so much with just a simple look, a glance, a wince, a long blink. I’m not exaggerating when I say he’s just an absolute revelation in this, he cements his place in Hollywood with a firm hand and a tender look, and I will not be forgetting what he did here anytime soon. There’s a reason that everyone called him out for being so stunning in this. He is magnificent. He has a gift.

-I wanna say, in particular, how much I love Arvin’s relationship with Lenora. Their lives were both marked by such tragedy and pain and Arvin just took up the torch of protecting her from the moment he said hello as a child. He wants so badly to be tough, and he IS, but there’s just miles and miles of love in this boy’s heart, and it manifests itself for his family—for his uncle, for his grandma, but for Lenora in particular. I loved how he just showed up when she was being harassed and just ran in there without thinking, and it’s purely devastating that he was out taking care of her bullies while a worse predator was cornering her. The scene where she was sick wasn’t in the book but it was a beautiful addition. Tom sometimes wears this very open, unguarded, honest expression, and this is the only scene in which he shows it, and it really expresses the love between them and how much she means to him. Arvin didn’t find Lenora’s body in the book, but it was the right change for them to make. Tom was devastating here, and that pain and that moment truly fuel every second of his journey through the rest of the film. “My Lenora”. The saddest siblings. Both Eliza and Tom did so beautifully with this relationship and I hope they work together again.

-Favorite acting moments for Tom: when he’s in the car in the rain after beating up the bullies, when he’s in the church crowd and realizes Preston is insulting his Grandma (the way his face changes oh my GOD), when he finds Lenora, when the cop comes to tell him Lenora was pregnant (this is just....so damn good), when he was telling his uncle to look after his Grandma, THE ENTIRE CHURCH CONFRONTATION (the way he trembles when he’s trying to get his attention, how he speaks the whole time, how he slowly gathers his strength), when he thinks Sandy has shot him, the moment where he’s over Lee’s body and just....pleading with his eyes for him to listen and realize what he’s done. And the last scene, in the car, all the emphasis on his face....once again, he can do so, so much with a look, with his eyes. Someone called out the beautiful last shot in the film, and of course, it’s Arvin’s sleeping face. And it was so beautiful (and devastating, to think of him enlisting. Tom draws so much sympathy that you just want Arvin to have a normal life so badly. He deserves it, he does, but will he get it?)

-Last thing I’ll say, I really loved how, despite turning his back on religion, that God seems to be protecting Arvin the whole time. He’s terribly afraid confronting the preacher and that could have easily gone badly, especially when he tosses the book, but Arvin was somehow able to get a shot off and get the upper hand. And with Carl and Sandy, he senses something is off immediately once they pull off the road, and he would have absolutely been killed had Carl not switched out Sandy’s bullets for blanks. And in the confrontation with Lee, he once again shoots at the same time as him, shoots without looking, and manages to come out unscathed and on top. A few spoiler reviews pointed out that the last person that picks Arvin up is supposed to be a Jesus-like figure, almost like he’s finally been saved. It hurts that everyone around him that he loved is almost forsaken by God, but he himself is protected. It’s such a complicated commentary on religion throughout the entire piece, but it’s so interesting and engrossing.

So I’d recommend this movie to anyone that loves movies, loves Tom, can deal with a gritty story that takes its time laying out all the chess pieces. It is definitely heavy subject matter but it doesn’t go overboard with the horror as it easily could have. Yes, there are triggers to look for, but the critics hugely over exaggerated how awful it was. I can probably go get time stamps for certain things if people wanna ask me after reading this, but if you can get through a Tarantino film or any HBO drama, you can do this. And Tom’s performance is one for the ages and not one that deserves to be passed over or downplayed. It is beautiful and heart-wrenching—a magnificent turn that displays his monumental ability to reach out and guide you into any world he decides to make his own.

I loved The Devil All the Time.

[belle-keys]

I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

[solastia]

Day 22

Faith, Namjoon x Reader, 8/8 Chapters, 31k words

After trying to squeeze everything for Beneath the Surface, I think I’m going to split this one into two days. So...today we will be squealing about the first four chapters. Buckle up Buttercup, this about to be a whole damn emotional rollercoaster!

I think it was this story that cemented in me just how much I love your writing style. I love going through it with a story, but please give me a happy ending. I get too emotionally involved and invested in these characters and having a sad or open ended final chapter is too much for me! Give me the warm and fuzzy feels in the end! You really like to give us satisfying stories and happy endings. I was once deeply invested in a Harry Potter fanfic and it ended up having a tragic ending and I swear to Bob, it scarred me! We have enough sadness irl, give me the fairytale!!!

So, in this story, our MC falls in love with Namjoon, who is an underground rapper. You see how you ground the story for the fans? This could have really happened, or maybe it did...wait. Thinking about it now, we’ve all heard the theories that Joon is secretly married with kids. GURL, DO YOU KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T??? Ok, ok, ok, moving on.

“You weren’t going to leave before your brother even got to the stage.

You MIGHT get kicked out before then though, you thought to yourself, glaring as another random hand smacked your ass as they walked past you.”

AGAIN, you always make your female MCs feisty and I am here for it!!! I know these are reader inserts, but I rarely ever see myself in them, if that makes sense? I still form a mental image of these main characters and I love how you are able to flesh them out so well without giving in depth descriptions (which is not ideal for reader insert fics, you know?) And I love that they stand up for themselves, no doormats here!

“You look up to find an incredibly handsome, and very tall, guy looking down at you, dimples on full display. He was dressed in all black. From the black skinny jeans that encased his long legs, to his black snapback on top of his bleached blonde hair.”

LAAAAWWWDD!!! I have a very clear memory of the rap line doing Cypher Part 1. Hobi looking like he was prepping for Mic Drop with his fit, Yoongi was blond, snapback, ripped jeans, bomber jacket, and his Straigh Outta Daegu attitude. And Joon...he had that undercut, kinda silvery blond hair, a simple beige t shirt, and black shorts. THAT’S THE JOONIE I PICTURE IN THIS FIC!!

“And your rap name is?”...

“It’s Rap monster.”

“Huh. Well, it’s not the WORST I’ve heard. Remember Llama guy? His name was MC McGriddle. I finally convinced him that it would be in his best interests to change his name. He finally did. Now he’s Hilbo Haggins. I don’t think he understands the concept of copyrights.” You smiled over at him.”

HILBO HAGGINS!! I am literally in tears. And is that Hobi??? Is it? Cuz if it is I will hereby stop calling him Hobert and refer to him only as Hilbo! Wait no...Hilbo reminds me of Himbo. Who is the biggest Himbo rapper I know, hmmmm…..OFC, MATTHEW! The big tiddy man himself. Ok, new theory. Hilbo is BM from Kard, and no, you cannot convince me it is not Matthew!

The first time between Joon and our girl is so damn hot and tender at the same time. Joonie is, of course, the perfect gentleman, invested in our girl’s pleasure just as much as his. And then…

“I can hear you overthinking.” He chuckles into your hair. He leans back and tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“So what’s it going to be? Am I staying the night or do you want me to leave?”

You look at him shyly, and bury your face into his chest, mumbling, “Stay…please.”

“Good, because we obviously really like each other, and I wasn’t ready to leave. Give me twenty minutes to rehydrate and we’re going for round two.”

“I’ll never survive!” You squeak out, as he laughs and picks you up, carrying you to the kitchen.

AAHHHH!!!

“You watch the rise and fall of his chest, letting your mind ponder the situation you’ve found yourself in as you drift off to sleep. The only conclusion your exhausted mind can reach is faith. It’s time to let yourself believe in someone. You’re probably an idiot for it, but you’re going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon.”

This is incredibly romantic and scary at the same time. Putting your faith in someone, being vulnerable with someone, is so damn scary! It is a huge leap of faith. I can feel the angst coming!!!

The little snippets of them together in chapter 2 are so damn cute! I am on the verge of tears! When Joon calls himself a dad because she got a puppy, saying he wouldn't let her be a single parent, omg that was so cute!!! UUggh so fluffy.

And then...

WAIT

WAAAAIIITTTT

I just got it. The foreshadowing. Excuse me, I need to go cry in the corner for a bit, be back in three business days. This is like the tenth time I’ve read this story and I was today years old when I realized. It hurts, thanks! *finger guns*

Anyways, more cuteness please!! The peanut butter in the fridge, his apology, Joon befriending her brother, so freaking domestic. I cannot!!! And then, the emotional whiplash:

“You watch him over dinner, excitedly talking about his plans for the future (with a full mouth), and you slowly start to realize…you could never tell him. This was his chance. With his level of talent, you were sure he would be at the top in no time. You were going to have to set him free, so he could achieve his dreams, without worrying about you or what was soon to come.”

NO GURL NO!!! DON’T DO IT! TELL HIM OR I WILL. TELL HIMMMM!!!!

“Namjoon pulls off your shirt and expertly unhooks your bra (Heh)”

We, as a fandom, have decided to erase all memory of that particular song! Because we have deleted all information stored in our collective memory about that song, I do not understand this reference. Thanks! Lmao

AND THEN YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO NAME THE BABY FAITH??? So, my feelings don’t matter to you? My personal well being is not a priority for you? Noted. Not like I can do anything about it. What am I going to do, stop reading your stories? Bwahahaha that ain’t gonna happen. I guess I’m a masochist cuz here comes chapter 3…

Their reunion was freaking amazing. I thought he'd be mad or that his anger would turn into hate, but it seems our boi is even more in love with our MC than he was before. The looks across the room, toying with her fishnets, the flirting, the back and forth, the ride to Jack-in-the-Box. Talk about foreplay!!! And then the culmination inside the Jack-in-the-Box bathroom! Woooooooo! And she still hasn’t told him about the baby?!?!?

“If the two of you had gotten into a fight, Namjoon would drag you there to sit and talk things out.”

This is so spot on, Joonie would!

“Tell me what happened. Tell me why everything changed. Tell me why you didn’t want me anymore.” Namjoon whispers, his voice laced with pain.”

NO, NOPE, NOT TODAY SATAN. I CAN’T. I’M CRYING. I’M CURRENTLY SITTING IN MY CRYING CORNER ABSOLUTELY BAWLING!!

“You lose yourself in the familiar feel of his soft, plump lips moving tenderly against yours. If there was one thing that Kim Namjoon was better at than rapping, it was kissing. He always kissed you like he was worshipping you with his lips and he could happily do it forever.”

I feel this in my bones!!! Joonie would be the type to take his time too! And with those lips! Dayum…

I think I am done for today, my heart can’t take any more!!!

Tomorrow we will finish this story!

Now that I picture Matthew as that rapper, I can’t get it out of my head! Totally canon lmao. 

[ourcorny]

charactersssss (a constant wip)

annie morris … twenty-five. currently haunted by her paintings and doodles. how embarrassing! waitress, artist, medicated for an illness she doesn’t has. is actually just from a bloodline of cursed female creative types. more info can be found @tghluck. (fc: mary elizabeth winstead)

edward ainsley … sixteen years old, is actually fifty-seven, vegan vampire. utterly disliked by his vampiric peers due to his being turned into a vampire in his youth, rendered sixteen years old for life. has a tendency towards alcoholism in order to silence his cravings for blood since he deems vampirism altogether unethical. more info found @pastytwat (fc: craig roberts)

robbie moore … fifty. always one of those too big for his own boots kinda guys – one of the ‘i’m jumping ship as soon as hit eighteen’ types. that’s what he did, and that’s when he absolutely fucked it. ran his mouth too loud for too long and ruined any chances he had anywhere he went. robbie is a writer but his unwillingness to compromise with his work leaves him unable to find any real place in the industry. an absolute self publishing expert. to pay the bills he’s an english teacher but there’s no real passion for it. he came back to his hometown after struggling his way around the country and settled down in a marriage with his high school sweetheart that turned sour quickly. the pair never had children and were heading to a painful divorce when his wife passed away suddenly. years down the line and he’s still trying to wrap his head around it. jesus fuck this guy. (fc: marc maron)

tara shaw … thirty-four. owner of SHAWSPB, an independent publishing company ran (run? past tense…? it’s confusing) by one tara shaw, someone who needs to work on her social skills. as it seems, you can actually only reject so many people so many times before it bites you in the ass. more specifically (and more accurately), you can only reject so many people so meanly after you fire the companies’ reader because they’ve let one too many trashy reads out of the slush pile and you have to start wading through the heaving thing yourself. opening manuscripts seemed well and good and safe enough because all you’d be facing is words that were crappy in a worst case scenario, until late one night, you stumble upon something that a sour faced rejectee (yes, one that landed themselves with a personalised handwritten and very specific rejection from the woman herself) gets their pages in the pile. tara opens it and finds that it’s no story at all. it’s a string of nonsense – words that don’t exist, script she’s not sure she’s ever seen before, but transfixed on the page, tara shaw reads the thing front to back and the second she puts the papers down is hurtled into the space time continuum, left to float around in there til something grounds her back into the real world, when or wherever that is. it’s an act of karma, or something, and whenever she lands she pukes her guts out because that’s what that kind of thing does to the human body apparently. (fc: natasha lyonne)

genevieve walsh … seventeen. was made fun of in year six for choosing to go to an all girl’s catholic secondary school, her classmates saying that she would end up a lesbian. she did, though it was unrelated to her formal teaching. very unrelated. she has too much going on and is too moody for her own good. extra info can be found @genegrieve. 

morrigan kenny … age unknown. bringer of the apocalypse. wanders earth with her way too long hair (it collects twigs and mud) looking for someone to spend the rest of the end with.

alex … thirty-odd (undisclosed actual age) years old. she is yet to learn to do her taxes, and is for all intents and purposes: a con-woman. arguably not an ethical profession, charging the old and the gullible for exorcisms and that of a supernatural variety while having no knowledge of the subject. but a girl’s gotta make a living — volunteering yourself for stand up gigs at the same place night in night out with little to no compensation doesn’t provide much. she’s a kind person, if you ignore the conning, and is decent to talk to. will give away any information. whoops. (fc: jenny slate)

lou webster … seventeen. modern prophet. refuses touch with good reason (skin on skin means she see the other person’s skin melting off, right to the bone). regularly sees the end of the world and it gives her stomach aches. (fc: natalia dyer)

liv o'dell … twenty-nine. screaming messy would probably win the lottery (the luck of her) if she ever tried it, multiple time accidental murderer. makes no sense. is rude. is annoying. has a surprisingly sweet daughter (kitty). more info @heavyroads 

betty cloverfield … a twenty one year old motormouth who can’t hold down a single thing she’s meant to. she happens to have recently induced some type of magenta sensitive dissonance in her sensory processing that she can’t shake. it’s speculated by many that she’s taken one too many poppers and it’s taken its toll. (fc: kat dennings)

aiden ryder … seventeen years old. the angstiest, quietest idiot with four fully charged portable chargers to hand at any moment you will ever know. heavily associated with @optimistsclub​ (fc: jack kilmer)

mert james ... 21. a children’s author, the writer and illustrator of the BEWARE GIANT CREATRUES series. he has many reasons to not want to leave his house and most surround the obvious images conjured in the phrase hatemyself1999 — hate myself (explanatory) and 1999 (dexter ‘mert’ james’ birth year. also self explanatory once you know this fact). all that said, he does in fact leave his house. teaches drums to kids. none of them practise and it makes him insane. in a running circuit of bands where none of the members are committed. that, or he’s misjudging their commitment and giving them nothing when they do in fact care and then he is the dick. music snob, deadpan snarker, karma houdini, middle child syndrome, world of cardboard, can’t get away with nuthin, i coulda been a contender!

lazyguts / victoria ... suicide/eating disorder mention. i’m writing her through ages 17-19 and here’s the brief overview/context: lazyguts lost all of her friends the year before she went off to university as a result of her total withdrawal [causes being a) her brother attempting to kill himself (he survived but it’s very confusing to grieve a hypothetical especially when you’re not supposed to talk about it) and then b) her already struggling with food issues getting worse worse worse. these two things alone are not the reasons as no one else explicitly knows about them, but the adverse effects of these things combined make her difficult to be around/hard to maintain a friendship with her. all very tragic, but still happens. uno].going to a uni where she doesn’t know anyone seems like the best move. she does. she makes friends with a girl called olivia and they become mad close very quickly. this lasts maybe two months until lazyguts starts locking herself away in uni room and doesn’t see much of anyone at all. she has to drop out on mental health reasons just before the end of her first year. she moves back home and lives miserably and very solitary. she and olivia have long lost touch by this point. a few months later she sees an in memoriam post up on olivia’s social media from some of olivia’s friends saying how tragic the loss is, etc/ olivia had killed herself. the post had said something about a project for the close friends of olivia and she tentatively sends a message despite having never really known the girl. anyway, after quite a few ‘exaggerations’ and then a few straight up lies, she ends up super into the friend group of olivia’s based on the lie of being a long-time friend of hers. she’s not sure why the lie comes out nor why she keeps it going. it’s something to cling onto so she does. best way to put it is she’s very dear evan hansen about it, lying lying lying lllyyyinng. eventually she’s caught out but we’re not there yet (fc: odessa a’zion)

dale knox ... 30ish. painter/decorator. info literally not ever written out before. he’s lovely and in a constant state of stress! affiliated with @fullyfungi (fc: aidan turner)

lenny gata ... 26. lonely funeral poet. followed by a select few of the unknown dead #irl after an accidental latin spell read out at a graveside (not her fault, literally not her fault - she read this out in good faith). caught ignoring them/walking them to their homes depending on the day. (fc: aubrey plaza)

millie matthews ... 17. half part antichrist. the other half is her twin sister (#MISSING). currently, unfortunately, sadly, disappointgly, worryingly, being tracked down.

more tbaaaaaaaa thank you thank you

[softsweetsuffering]

OC LIST (New)

Trey:

Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis

Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.

He's got a good wealth behind him.

Extremely gentle

Handsome ;)

Loves photography

Has lavender hair

Respects all

'Secretly' Plays violin

Lowkey a sugardaddy

Hamrish Benat:

Has four eyes!

Pink and blonde hair

He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)

Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)

Ready to deck a bitch

Trained nurse

Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.

Also goes by Hami/Hayden

Andy peters:

Strong, kind.

The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.

Wishes he could do more

Buff + Tall

Wears a pair of dogtags.

Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it

Is extremely brotherly to Adrian

is friends with Hami

Adrian Géarán:

Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess

Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)

likes to make little robots!

Easily bullied

Missing an arm

Struggles with normal life

Blames himself for Andys death

Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama

Chris:

Leader of a summer camp for kiddos

Huge fan of the outdoors

Loves to garden

Red head with freckles

Healthy!

Good build, a little on the below-average male height

Likes to hike

Loves kids

Strong but pacifistic

Great smile

Surprisingly a little shy around other adults

Bisexual

Himbo energy

Douglas Connelly:

Just a regular chubby guy

His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow

He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally

He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks

Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)

A bit awkward but he tries his best.

Tucker:

Badass

Bunny hybrid (ears :3)

White hair

Likes to wear denim jackets

Fast runner

Has had experience working in the force

Izekiel Iris:

Bruised and abused in a facility

Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)

Loves painting

Wallflower

Easily anxious

Loves to draw on his own arms

Matthew Libelle:

Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic

Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.

Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).

Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.

Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.

Has watermelon pink hair.

Gale:

Eldritch bab

Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand

Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster

hears voices

Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back

Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)

Doesn't have a home

Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil

Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.

Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.

Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.

Rowan maverick

Was abandoned as a teen

Also known as Rogue/Red.

Lost some of their tongues making them mute

Trained Assassin.

Previously part of a cult

Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)

Bad with Physical affection

Could use a friend

Jace

Cop/Ex Cop.

Laid off after an incident

Has a pubby called Otis

Likes the occasional beer

Dad energy

Issac Merewen

Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s

Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.

Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester

Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)

Was stored Cramped in box.

Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)

Natrually Blonde

He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.

- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D

-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.

Tyrone Li

Incubus.

Wise, Patient, caring.

Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.

Glasses.

Loves plants and flora

Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..

Glamors hide the following features:

Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.

Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)

Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.

Caspian:

Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)

Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence

He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)

Can control water, can do minor healing with water

Can make water bubble/ boil when angry

Glowy veins when powers are active

He has had many many lives

Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..

Doesn't know how many times hes died

Doesn't have alot of family or friends

Goes on many adventures

Elio Solren.

Nickname: Sunshine

Good lad.

Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.

Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.

Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.

Smiles to hide the pain

Punk/hipster vibes

Intricate golden tattoos

Doesn't open up easily

Doesn't like to admit to being in pain

Kotori

AKA Corey

Owl lad!

Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)

Loves music.

Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.

Big wings- like barn owl.

Likes to perch in trees

Jeremey Caulfield

Winter baby

Was left bleeding in the snow at some point

Father Lovely old man (John)

Mother died (Ellie)

Birthday December 23h

Blue eyes

Black hair

Russel

Box boy

Glasses

Red hair

Real sweetheart

Really needs more dev ; ;

Jules

Loves tofu n chicken

Touchstarved

Stubborn af

Kicks ass!

Has Sass

Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such

Black hair big messy pigtails

Dark brown eyes.

Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does

Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands

Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo

Trampolines!!

Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money

Sleeps on just a mattress

Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.

(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)

Miles

Part mole, part orphan

Lives underground

Very light-sensitive

Is colourblind

Absolute nerd

loves tinkering with things

is scared of humans

very foggy memories of his parents.

Leilah/ Lei

Can make/control shadows.

Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)

Lives in the woods

Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods

Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows

Kinda bad at maintaining friendships

Emotionally Distant

Wears a cloak.

Bao Ketsuyki

Blood magic bab

Short

East Asian.

Pink/red medium length hair

Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.

Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.

Has almost died a few times from her magic use.

Oran Audun

Pale

Punk

Irish

Plays Guitar

Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.

Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer

Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.

loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets

Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object

Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.

Ray

Social worker works mainly with kids.

Has a Shy guy tattoo.

His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother

Dad died but dad was good.

Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy

Short, 5’

Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)

Super dad vibes.

Owen

a hockey player n gymnast.

His mother died when he was about 9.

has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type

quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.

ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey

This leads to following his passion for Gym

Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.

Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho

Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.

actually a really sweet guy

Soft but likes his sport and jokes.

He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.

has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.

He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)

He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.

He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.

Nohea

but everyone calls him Noah.

Works at a Boba tea cafe..

likes to surf.

has an Epic board.

Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.

he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.

has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe

Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.

Ila

4’8 Soft. Short.

Ready to protect.

Loves to bake!!!

Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time

Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained

likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)

Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)

Dyes hair silver/white

Jake

Homeless

Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail

Also has fangs, and therefore venom

He's got a lot of sass

Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people

Isn't used to kindness

doesn't cry easily

Steals food

Mac Hiato

Also known as Caf

5’6

Very Grumpy.

Very often has bags under his eyes.

Hoodie is life

Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.

Has nightmares of strangulation

Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis

Scared of dark- night lights

Owns a mouse called Bean

Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.

Sits like a gay.

Lives on coffee

Minorly Lactose intolerant

Has One bad eye

Neema

Egyptian

Mechanic

Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time

dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.

Works part time at the garage

Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.

Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.

she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.

She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".

Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.

She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.

She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.

Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.

Samson (Lemonade boi)

His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)

He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.

He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)

He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)

He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)

He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)

He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.

He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)

He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.

He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)

He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.

He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.

The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.

He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.

He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins

His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.

He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)

He has a twin brother called Fraser.

Scrunches his nose

Hides his laughter behind his hand

[42wallaby-way-sydney]

@gangstertogangster​ so since we’re on a glee kick for the OCs, I figure now is about as good a time as any just to have more things that totally get said during domestic au lines.

Yelena: Veruchka that isn't how babies happen. Nika: Uh huh! You and mama are both girls and you have me! Yelena, eyes widening, sweats: ... Nika: Hey how did that happen anyway? Where do babies come from? Yelena, driving faster: Ask your mother. Nika: But you are my mother? Yelena: Ask your other mother! ~oOo~ Michael: Look, alcohol is an answer to any problem. It’s not always the best answer but it is an answer. So pass me my wine or not even God himself will be able to save you, Raphael! ~oOo~ Vasya: Nah, my Aunt Shauna loves Olive Garden. They have better bread. Michael: What’s wrong with my restaurant?! It’s authentic Italian! The real deal! Vasya: It isn’t Olive Garden’s. Duh. ~oOo~ Nika: Hey guys, do you mind if I ritualistically slaughter this chicken? Peyton, jaw dropped: Uh... yeah a bit. This is the stage where we’re, you know, about to have a musical practice. Not... make chicken nuggets. ~oOo~ Vasya: That bitch is crazy! He had me kidnapped! Adrian, looks away: ...  Alexei: Ohmygod... ~oOo~ Jack: Papa, where do babies come from? Vladimir: ... Russia and Spain. Matt: That is not- Vladimir: My babies came from Russia and Spain, Matvey! Matt: Well if you want to get technical! Jack was born in Hell’s Kitchen! You idiot! ~oOo~ Mariah: Oh, Misty. Lucille is just... such a delightful child... Misty: Thank you, Mariah. I just... adore Honor... Danny & Shades, both sighing: ... ~oOo~ Matt: What's wrong?! Why are you bleeding?! Vasya, crying: I think I have internal bleeding! Matt: Oh honey. Internal means it's on the inside. Vladimir, smacking the back of Matt's head: Asshole. ~oOo~ Lucille: Breathe in. Now breathe out. Breathe in. ... Jack. Dani. Wake up. Vasya: They don't like meditating very much. Jack, snoring: ... Danielle, snoring: ... ~oOo~ Karen: You taught her how to treat a hemorrhage but not a period?! Matt: I didn't think it was important?! ~oOo~ Taka: I’m like the Malcolm X of our community! ~oOo~ Jack: Hey Siri, what was it like being poor and Asian? Marie: Terrible from what I’ve heard from my grandma. Peyton: Well, the mangoes aren’t as good in America. ~oOo~ Toly: I love fencing. I get to make new friends then stab them. ~oOo~ Vasya: I think I'm dying! Matt: Honey we're all dying. Vladimir, smacks Matt on the back of the head: What is your fucking problem tonight?! ~oOo~ Ravdí: Peyton, when you asked us to choreograph a dance number for this musical, you did not say that it was for Maddie’s zombie love story. Peyton: Yeah! Isn’t it a great idea?! Maddie’s story makes for a great musical and with you and Vas making a dance, I think this will be a big hit! Vasya, staring at Jamie: ... uh huh. Got this.... Ravdí: ... fiiine. We’re choreographing a dance number for zombies in love. Let’s go, Vas. ~oOo~ Bucky, wearing galaxy print yoga pants: Look my pants are out of this world so shove it. Vladimir: ... damn that was good. High five, Yakov. ~oOo~ Honor: Richard, I can taste your axe body spray. Get off of me! ~oOo~ Vasya: Well a drunk Stalin called me and told me that if I wanted Russia, he’d just give it to me! Matt: ... we need new Sunday dinner topics... Shauna: Ooh! I got one! Vladimir! You smell like melted cheese! Jack, whispering to Toly: You owe me five bucks. Eight minutes in and they’re screaming at each other. Matt, sighing: This is fine... Anatoly: I have vodka. Do you want some? ~oOo~ Yelena: If that boy so much as touches her I am destroying him. Natasha: I've already thought of ways we can hide his body. Yelena: I love you so much. ~oOo~ Michael: Both of my girls could kick my ass without even blinking and I find it unbelievably amazing. ~oOo~ Brad: Ooh authentic Chinese food! Diane: It's not Chinese, it's Asian! André: ... ya'll bitches be trippin'. ~oOo~ Richard: So I talked to your sister about who's the boss on this group project. Jack: Uh huh. How'd that go exactly? Who's in charge on your project? Richard: ... it's still unclear. Jack: Right. My sister is in charge, isn't she? Richard, sighing: I can't tell her no. ~oOo~ Maddie: ... why is there a live bear in the house? Marci: What? ... Ahhh! Bear! ~oOo~ Vladimir, saluting lazily: Aye aye captain. Yelena, ugly snort laughs: Shut up Vova. ~oOo~ Bucky: So how's that Eurofest thing going? Vladimir, pausing: ... you mean Eurovision? Bucky, snapping his fingers: Yep! That's it. ... don't look at me like that. I was closer that time than I was earlier. Vladimir: ... this. Is true. I don't even know what you said earlier. ~oOo~ Toly: Hey, Al? Alexei: Yeah? Toly: What was that? Alexei: An icecream commercial. Toly: No the fuck it wasn’t! Don’t you lie to me! ~oOo~ Jack: So you love my sister? Michael: Sí, more than air. Why? Jack: Would you be willing to take a bullet for her? Michael: ... yes? Why? Jack: I'll see you at the pier later tonight, Moretti. ~oOo~ Alexei: Man if one more person tells me that I am appropriating my own got dang culture Imma beat someone's ass. ~oOo~ Richard: I can't believe you said that! If you weren't a lady, I'd deck you! Vasya: You try and I'll have you on your back so fast you'll think you're out on a date! ~oOo~ Raphael: Wait, wait, wait! Hold on. You’re dumping me? For him? Nika, rolling her eyes: No, I’m dumping you, period. And then I’m gonna be with him. Period. If... that’s okay with him, question mark. Francis: Totally. Exclamation point. Raphael: Oh puke. Parenthesis, bold, underline. Michael, holding Smolya: Snort laughing. ... period. Raphael: Why are you even here? Michael: This is my apartment! ~oOo~ Yelena, after explaining a plan: It’s brilliant, right? Vladimir: Not brilliant at all. Yelena: Thanks for being on board. Vladimir: No. Not on board. Yelena: It means a lot. Vladimir: Big mistake. Very big mistake. Yelena: This will be wonderful! Vladimir: We are going to die slow, painful deaths. ~oOo~ Yelena: You get them! Vladimir: No you go get them! Natasha: What is going on out here? Yelena: We thought- Vladimir: Ah! No! There was no 'we'! Yelena: Shut up! We thought that the girls needed some life lessons... Vladimir: It was Lena's idea. Matt: Don't you dare tell me that Vasya and Nika, who are small toddlers may I add, are somewhere up there on that 100 foot tall building! Yelena: Okay, we won't. Vladimir: ... again, her idea. ~oOo~ Vasya: Fuck you! Dimitri: Later. Now shut up. I was talking. ~oOo~ Jack: I want to kill those guys! Vladimir: No! Matt: What a shocking turn of events... Vladimir: I don’t want you to bloody your beautiful hands! I will do it! ~oOo~ Vladimir: Oh congrats! You’ve made my seven year old look like a whore! Shauna: I think she looks great! Vasya: I think I want a leather jacket and combat boots now! Matt, groaning: Our seven year old is joining the mafia! ~oOo~ Rikki: I am a chapstick lesbian- is that the proper term for this? Because I’m not a lipstick lesbian, I’m definitely not femme, but I’m not entirely butch either? So I think I identify as a chaptstick les- screw it. I identify as chapstick! Just chapstick! Darla: What kind of chaptstick though? Sasha: Is it cherry? Because I see you as a cherry. ~oOo~ Marie: I’m like a Little Ceaser’s Pizza. Always hot and ready to go. Jack: Oh my god... Peyton: You’re gross. And I hate you. ~oOo~ Alexei: Toly’s a crackhead. Toly: I am not! I’m a motha fucking ganster! Alexei: See? Smokes crack. Andrey: I’m seeing myself out of this argument. ~oOo~ Yelena: All these screaming babies and yelling mothers and angry dads and annoying teenagers. They make me want to shoot up this mall. Nika: You cannot say that in public! Yelena: Why not?! It’s my second amendment right to shoot up a shopping center! Nika: NO! ~oOo~ Darla: I’m not much into BDSM. If I wanted to be whipped and chained up I’d just go back in time. ~oOo~ Peyton: Oh my sweet, poor, Japanese cherry blossom... Taka: Thank you. ~oOo~ Michael: This person wants us to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to them?! What?! Rahphael, snorts: That’s not happening. What do they think this is? Applebees?! ~oOo~ Peyton: It annoys me so much when people come here asking if we have a table and then get so offended when we don’t have them because of incoming reservations. Jamie: Honestly! What do they think this is?! Applebees?! We are a five star establishment! ~oOo~ Anatoly: You three better eat these pierogies! I didn’t starve in Utkin for you to deny yourselves food! Alexei, Toly, and Andrey, sighing: Yes, sir... ~oOo~ Bucky: You are a whole ass menace to society! Yelena: I will live. ~oOo~ Wesley: ... I’ve lost Maya. Fisk: Again, Wesley? Wesley, sighing: Unfortunately. ~oOo~ Lucy: I fear nothing. Not even god. Dani, Vasya, and Honor, watching her drink a smoothie: You’re disgusting. Jack: Can I have some of your smoothie? ~oOo~ Daisy: Being an inhuman is genetic. Vladimir: She gets this from your side of the family, Matthew! Daisy: But... you two adopt- Matt: I know. Don’t ask. Go with it. ~oOo~ Ian: Ugh, what do I take for hangovers? Darla: How horribly caucasian. Marie, snorts: Ha! Darla: Well isn’t it?! Marie, shrugging: I don’t know. I get the Asian flush so I take medicine before drinking. ~oOo~ Vladimir: I wonder what she’s going to buy... Matt: I wonder where she got the money... Jack: Vasi’s buying a bag of pepperoni! ~oOo~ Shauna: Look, we all know Toly won’t get into Harvard otherwise- Toly: What if I don’t want to go to Harvard?! Shauna: Ugh fine! Yale then! Toly: But mom- Shauna: Harvard or Yale Anatoly Jr! ~oOo~ Vasya: At least you all woke up in a bed! I woke up in the garbage! Jack: Okay. But. That’s nothing new. Nika, elbows him: Don’t be rude. ~oOo~ Sasha: I was in the dumpster! The dumpster! Rikki: My mom is blue! Darla: So I can see that this is a very stressful time for you both... ~oOo~ Dani: Lucy’s gonna be a minute. Vasya: Did she wake up in the trash too? Dani: No, she woke up half Asian. Lucy’s having a full blown identity crisis. ~oOo~ Vladimir: Your house is full! Full of sadness and emptiness! Yelena: Alright first off, you’re rude. Second, you’re a hoarder! ~oOo~ Sam: We don’t need this! Bucky: Sam, need and want are two different things. ~oOo~ Matt: I may not have vision but at least I have taste! ~oOo~ Vladimir: Ooh! For realsky?! Vasya: For suresky! ~oOo~ Anatoly: No son of mine is going to listen to shitty rap about doing cocaine! Alexei, thinking to himself: Please don’t tell mom... Anatoly: And Alexei Anatolyevitch! I am telling! Your mother! Alexei: Noooo!!!! ~oOo~ Therapist: Mr. Murdock, I think that Ms. Natchios may be one of your triggers. Matt: Please! I don’t have triggers! I am fine! Vladimir, snorts and coughs to cover it up: Okay. Elektra: Suuure you are Matthew. Matt: I will throw this chair at you, I swear to God! Don’t test me! ~oOo~ Shauna, lunging for Wesley: Augh! I can’t take it anymore! Vladimir, watching her punch Wesley: Shauna has earned my respect. Matt: It only took you five years to give it to her... ~oOo~ Jack: I’m so American that my favorite food is a McDonald’s cheeseburger! ~oOo~ Vladimir: If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?! Vasya: I dunno! Maybe if they invited me! Matt, slowly rubs his temples: ... I have a headache now... ~oOo~ Yelena: I drive like I have nothing to live for. Which I don’t really. Vladimir: Remind me to never drive near you with my children in the car. Natasha: And remind me to drive Nika around from now on. ~oOo~ Rikki: What do Asian parents beat their kids with? Francis: I don’t know. Textbooks? Ian: Rulers with F’s written on them? Jack: Slippers? Marie, glaring: I’m judging you all harshly. Jack: But are we wrong?! Marie: They feed us! Francis: Well that’s not a punishment. Marie: It is if you don’t like the thing they’re making you eat. ~oOo~ Vladimir: Has anyone seen my son?! He’s about yay tall! Clearly gay! But we haven’t had the talk yet! ~oOo~ Yelena: SHOW ME LOVE! SHOW ME LOVE! Nika: Mom... what is going on? Natasha, stirring her coffee: Oh just the usual amount of bullshit I deal with on a daily basis due to your other mother. ~oOo~ Maddie: I’m supposed to be in class. Ravdí: It’s okay, I’m supposed to be at work. ~oOo~ Darla: Oh what do I know?! Only what’s best for you! Rikki: I’m self destructive. Darla: I was just kidding. Rikki: I wasn’t. ~oOo~ Anatoly: How’s your dad’s restaurant doing? Alex: Very well. Alexei: Grandpa deletes bad reviews off his facebook so it only has five star reviews. He sees two stars, delete! Five star, it stays. Alex: He needs to fix the roof. Anatoly: ... what’s wrong with the roof? Alex: It’s old. Alexei: It leaks. Alex: The AC needs to be fixed too. Anatoly: What’s wrong with the AC? Alex: It’s old. Alexei: It’s broken. Shauna: ... I love your dad’s restaurant! ~oOo~ Vasya: Does anyone know if the damage control shampoo works on PTSD? Adrian: What about emotions? Asking for a friend. ~oOo~ Yelena: Oh god it’s missing! Natasha: What is? Yelena: The... the thing! Natasha, turning to face Yelena with baby Nika in her arms: What ‘thing’, Lenosha? Yelena, sighing in relief: Oh thank god, you found it. Natasha: ... you mean our daughter?! ~oOo~ Francis: A four letter word starting with ‘c’. Go! Rikki: Cock! Jack: Cunt! Rikki: Ooh! Nice one. Vasya: ... mine is corn. Nika: Well that’s adorable. Darla: Cute. ~oOo~ Vladimir: So it’s just a girls night? Vasya: Yeah, we’re just going to see a movie, grab a bite to eat, talk to the dead, and, if we have time, try to commit arson. Vladimir: Okay, have fun and don’t come back too late! Matt: ... after all that you just let her leave?! She said she’s going to commit arson, Vladimir! Vladimir: No, she said they’re going to try! They have to talk to the dead first, Matthew! ~oOo~ Matt, on the phone with Brett: Yeah, hey, if you get a call about a fire, can you give me a call? No reason. ~oOo~ Ravdí: Hey! I waterboarded myself! ~oOo~ Honor: This is a three day vacation! Lucy: Where are we supposed to be sleeping?! Richard: Well I just assumed you two would be inside each other. Jack, spits his drink out: ... ~oOo~ Vasya: So I met this girl at this coffee shop this morning- Honor: Oh no... No no no no. Vasi. You will not come out of this alive. Vasya: Uh... excuse me? Honor: She’s clearly a cannibal. Have you looked at yourself? You’re clearly an easy target. You’re a ballerina and very well marbled. If I were stuck on a deserted island with no food, I would absolutely eat you first. Literally everyone just stares: ... ~oOo~ AJ, the highschool art teacher, very clearly drunk: Listening to Brad talk is like listening to a horny bear claw into a chalkboard. I’m not pleased. Matt: ... well neither am I with that in mind. Shauna: I’m going to throw up. Bucky: God I love PTA meetings! ~oOo~ Honor: Gay kid! Alexei, blinks a lot: ... Honor: Asian girl! Marie: ... Marie. It’s not a hard name. Honor: Asian girl two! Peyton, inhaling deeply: ... she’s a kid. Breathe... Honor: Panda Express! Jamie: ... I swear to god... Honor: Weird twins! Rikki and Darla, blink and roll their eyes: ... Honor: Creepy incest twins! Jack and Vasya: ... we are not- Richard: Okay! So theater club meeting is in session now! ~oOo~ Ravdí: Sloppy babies! You’re all sloppy babies! Dani: Maybe we shouldn’t be calling the freshmen that. And give them encouraging words of wisdom instead? Ravdí: No! They keep dropping their flags! Again, babies! ~oOo~ Richard: Aren’t most of you gay? Honor: How dare you! ~oOo~ Ravdí: I’m sorry. All this time I’ve been treating you like an unpaid intern. When what I should have been doing is treating you like a paid intern. ~oOo~ Jack: Buenos dias, fuckboy! Ian, screaming shrilly: ... ~oOo~ Alexei: We’re all going to die someday. Well. Some of us. Toly: If you figure out immortality you have to share. Alexei: Uh. No. You’re annoying. Andrey: Will you share with me? Alexei: Maybe. ~oOo~ Alexei: Let’s come together! Like Voltron! Andrey: I’m the leg! Toly, rolling his eyes, softly but with feeling: ... fiiine. Losers. ~oOo~ Jack: I wrote this song for my sister! Vasya, closing her eyes, softly but with feeling: Ohgodno... Jack: I wrote this song to tell her that I’m always by her side! Even when we fight! Vladimir & Matt: Aww! ~oOo~ Andrey: Sometimes I feel like Ugolyok films me while in the shower and is waiting to sell the videos on Craigslist. Toly: ... what is wrong with you...? Alexei: ... I... uh... kay. ~oOo~ Lucy and Honor, trapped in an elevator, staring at a creepy puppet on a bike: ... What the ... hell... The puppet: Hello, girls. Let’s play a game. Lucy and Honor, banging on the door: Get us out of here! ~oOo~ Dani: You’re not letting them out of the elevator, are you? Richard: Nope. Not until they confess their feelings. Vasya: This is maniacal... I like this plan. Jack: You are all. So fucked up. ~oOo~ Maddie: I’m going to start projectile vomiting any second now... ~oOo~ The Principal of the highschool: I say we release the hounds into the school. Nick, the highschool science teacher, eyes wide: Let us not do that. AJ, the highschool art teacher: I think it might build character and therefore I veto Nick. ~oOo~ Ravdí, screaming as she runs down the hall: Why are there so many dogs in the hallways?! Vasya: This is the opposite of a problem! Francis: I love them all! Nika, climbing up the lockers, and hissing: Leave me alone! Unless you’re planning on eating my math homework! ~oOo~ Vasya: I will stop at nothing until you are homeless and drinking gutter water. Richard: Ouch. You’re rude.

[apicturewithasmile]

LOST rewatch (season 3):

[follow the entire rewatch-tag here]

episode 1 – A Tale of Two Cities:

Time for Dooooowntooooown!!!

“So I guess I’m out of the book club.”

Aaaah it’s THAT Jack flashback episode aka the lowest he’s ever been aka

It’s not that Matthew Fox is a bad actor… it’s just that everyone else on the show is better than him. It becomes even more apparent with the presence of Michael “I single-handedly invented acting” Emerson being around there to stay now.

Sawyer solving the bear cage puzzle is so cute I wanna hug him.

episode 2 – The Glass Ballerina:

Awwww yaaaaas Ben’s round glasses jkdgnidfgnoidsfg

It always baffles me how long it takes for the credits to finish. Going on minute 8 of this episode and they still rolling.

It’s Sally Slingshot

Only Ben Linus can use a camping chair as a dramatic prop

“My name is Benjamin Linus and I’ve lived on this island all my life.”

episode 3 – Further Instructions:

John being speechless after seeing naked Desmond running through the jungle – #same

Wait… is that the sweat lodge episode? If so it means sweaty topless Terry O’Quinn and my body is absolutely and 100% ready!!!

Charlie just made the same “you don’t call, you don’t write” joke on John that he already pulled on Eko

It’s probably the only totally… useless John flashback. Like… we don’t really learn anything about his character that we didn’t already know. I still enjoy every second of John screentime we get but… I wish they had used this one for something else.

“amendable for coercion” is probably what Ben has written in John’s file as well

episode 4 – Every Man For Himself:

Oh shut up Charlie, you jealous ass.

It’s the episode in which Ben knocks Sawyer out with his phallic baton.

“the big kahuna”

First time appearance of the true star of the show: bunny #8

I love that of all the characters on the show, Sawyer’s the one who reads every book he can get his hands on.

Murder cactus hair!!!

Ben’s Bunny Bag™!!!

episode 5 – The Cost of Living:

Sexy linen outfit, Ben! Love the abundance of chest hair!

“Do you believe in God, Jack?” – “Do you?” – “Two days after I found out I had a fatal tumour on my spine a spinal surgeon fall out of the sky, and if that’s not proof of God then I don’t know what is.”

“I guess he’ll be expecting us.”

episode 6 – I Do:

Yet another bad wig for Evangeline Lilly

Random Nathan Fillion

I love the cage frickle frackle scene

Nice psychological warfare, Benjamin fucking Linus!

episode 7 – Not In Portland:

 I love Juliet’s curly hair <3

“I’m Tom btw.” – nice timing, Tom!

RICHARD ALPERT!!!

Ben just lying there, chilling with his back cut open… getting some fresh air on that spine.

There it is: Angel Hair Pasta story 2.0

“I wanna know what he said. You owe me an answer.” Good God what is it with Jack and this overly possessive behaviour? Why does he always have to know everything about the women in his life?!?!?! That’s not healthy, Jack!

episode 8 – Flashes Before Your Eyes:

More Desmond, hell yes!

istg that blue semi-unbuttoned shirt is such an iconic look for Desmond and it’s also hot as fuck

OF COURSE Charlie is playing Wonderwall

episode 9 – Stranger In A Strange Land:

The worst episode yet it gives us topless Benjamin Linus.

Seriously, I have hardly anything else to say about this one.

“Your bedside manner leaves something to be desired, Jack.”

Good fucking God, Jack you entitled self-righteous asshole!

episode 10 – Tricia Tanaka Is Dead:

Roger Workman!

Where’s Sayid btw?!??!?! Haven’t seen him in a while!

Aaaah there he is my bebe Sayid!!!

“SHUT UP! Red…. Neck… Man….”

episode 11 – Enter 77:

It’s the Mikhail Bakunin episode!!!

Oh wait…. Is that a Sayid episode? The one with the cat that I had completely forgotten about until now?!?!?!

I loves Sayid’s flashback hair in this episode.

NOT EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY, JOHN!!!

Oh John, what is it with you and beeping computers?

episode 12 – Par Avion:

“Remind me why we’re keeping him alive?” – “What do you suggest? We shoot him like a dog?” – “No. I like dogs.”

I love you, Danielle!

“The John Locke I know was…” nice time travel foreshadowing

Claire’s aunt is such an asshole!

John throwing Mikhail through the sonic fence is my jam!

DADDY SHEPHARD!

Okay but… if you can just go over the fence? Then why does Smokey not just… fly over it?!

episode 13 – The Man From Tallahassee:

OH NO NOT THAT EPISODE!!! Right in the feels!!!

John finally reunited with his future island husband.

The bedroom scene! Yassss!!!

“The man from Tallahassee? What is that, some kind of code?” – “No, John, unfortunately we don’t have a code for: there’s a man in my closet with a gun to my daughter’s head. Although we obviously should.” FUCK YAAAAS!!!!

“I know you, John Locke. […] Tell me John, did it hurt?” – “I felt my back break. What do you think?”

I like Tom Friendly – he really lives up to his name.

I can’t believe that Jack – the only doctor the survivors have – wants to leave the island all because Kate fucked Sawyer. Sounds like something a guy would do who’d detonate a hydrogen bomb because his girlfriend left him.

Ben and John out-sassing and manipulating each other is foreplay tbh.

“I was born on this island…” LIAR!

THE MAGIC BOX!!!! Fgnidgnidflsgnlkdd FUUUUUCK!!!! SHIT’S GETTING REAL!!!

Also a very rare occasion in which Ben’s beautiful face has no wounds, scratches, bruises…

You can see I adore this episode by how much I have to say about it even if it’s just a ramble of feels

And now it’s bondage John!

“And then you came striding out of the jungle, John, to make my dream come true.”

episode 14 – Expose:

Wow… I can’t believe I’m already that far down into my rewatch.

Unpopular opinion: I actually love Expose. It’s so… useless and dorky that it’s amazing!

“I’m just a guest star and we all know what happens to guest stars.”

It’s Boone and Shannon *cries forever*

I can’t believe someone called Maggie Grace and told her “hey, we know you got totally screwed over and we killed your character before you could have any substantial character development but… we need you back for an episode, you gotta scream your fucking lungs out of your body once more!”

Seriously…. This is the creepiest death on the whole show.

episode 15 – Left Behind:

Hahahaha it’s the one where Hurley tricks Sawyer into being nice

I loooove Cassidy and I love they mirrored this flashback with the Kate-and-Juliet-are-handcuffed-together episode

“My name is Kate.”

episode 16 – One Of Us:

It’s the one where Ben is very very creepy

That’s probably the only episode in which I can somehow understand the people who dislike Ben…. But I still love my dear rat boy!

episode 17 – Catch 22:

Ooowwww I love Desmond episodes

Oh Kate…why?!?!

I deadass forgot the whole freighter plot, like… I knew Miles & Co. where about to appear but I forgot how this whole thing started

episode 18 – D.O.C.:

Jin’s the only one who has a nice dad and a terrible mother

Also I just typed “John” instead of “Jin” which makes me wonder: where’s my bald jungle baby?

Aaaah first mention of fake 815

episode 19 – The Brig:

Fuuuuuck I’M NOT READY!!!

They made me miss my dear John for two (three?) entire episodes only to come back with this to totally rip my heart out

The “previously on” bit already wrecks me

IT’S THE PINS AND NEEDLES SCENE!!! Also known as: Ben tries this “flirting” all the cool kids are talking about.

Terry’s looking hot as fuck in that entire episode

Ben knocking out Anthony Cooper with his walking stick is my aesthetic.

Danielle causally poppin by to get some dynamite

“little hot for heaven, isn’t it?” – I would looooove this whole red herring if it weren’t for the “they were dead the whole time”-crowd

God that Anthony Cooper = The OG Mister Sawyer reveal is AMAZING!

“I thought I was special.” – “Well, everyone makes mistakes.”

Yes, James, KILL THAT ASSHOLE!!!

“I’m on my own journey now.”

episode 20 – The Man Behind The Curtain:

My precious Carrie Preston!

Uncle Horace

“Call him Benjamin.”

“You are the man behind the curtain – the wizard of Oz. And you’re a liar.”

Namaste!

Sterling Beaumon was the best casting choice for baby Ben!!!

Mikhail Bakunin still running like the devil’s chasing him (literally, kinda, considering Smokey revived him.)

John: [Ben] and I are going to see Jacob. – Everyone else: Wuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?

Ben really has a history of very shitty birthdays.

And this is making me very emotional because it reminds me of the “video of tears and pain” which makes me wanna cry my fucking soul out.

“Kinda hard to celebrate on the day you killed you mom.” Oh fuck off, Roger.

Ben’s Bunny Bag™ back in action

“I don’t wanna go back there. I hate it there.”

The way Richard talks to baby Ben is soooo similar to the way Ben talks to John I’m gonna scream!!!

Okay but this is no kiddon the best episode of this entire show so far. Like… Nothing that happened up until this point compares to this!!!

I FORGOT ABOUT BEN SPEAKING TO AN EMPTY CHAIR!!!!

Still baffles me they thought they could slap some fake hair and make-up on Emerson’s face and make him look like a 20yo – when he was already older than Ben is in our now-timeline… like… was there no 20yo actor with a big nose and bug eyes around?!?!

“Goodbye, Dad!”

“The Dharma Initiative. They came here seeking harmony, but they couldn't even coexist with the Island's original inhabitants. And when it became clear that one side had to go, one side had to be purged, I did what I had to do. I was one of the people that was smart enough to make sure that I didn't end up in that ditch, which makes me considerably smarter than you, John.”

John Locke seriously bringing a knife to a gun fight!

alright kiddos, I am #fucked up now.

episode 21 – Greatest Hits:

How many episodes actually start with someone running through the jungle?

Danielle just showing up to blow something up!

According to Jack this is day 90? So it takes another 18 days for them to actually get off the island at that point?!?! Wow.

Guess that’s the end of bunny #8

episodes 22 & 23 – Through the Looking Glass:

OH MY GOD IT’S THE FIRST FLASH FORWARD!!!

“WE HAVE TO GO BACK, KATE!!!!”

“I’m a dentist. I am not Rambo.” – I love these two so much!!

Can you believe they thought it was a good idea to give Ben round glasses that make his eyes look even bigger than they already are? He looks like straight out of a manga.

There really is a lot of fatphobia in this episode.

It’s taller ghost Walt

ALEX AND DANIELLE MEET FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!! WELP!!!

Ben letting himself be tackled and punched by Jack is such a power move. I am 100% convinced he let it happen on purpose because it’s already canon that he can easily knock out friggin Sawyer!!!

NOT PENNY’S BOAT

From Ben’s perspective this is once again John “striding out of that jungle to make my dream come true”

“I don’t wanna shoot you.”

Remember when you watched that finale for the first time and didn’t know all the time it was a flash forward and not a flashback?!?!? And then Kate steps out of that car and you were all like WOOOOAAAAHHHH?!?!?!

Remember when you didn’t know whose funeral they were talking about?!?!?!

That last scene was the first time I found Jack actually likable and relatable!

WE HAVE TO GO BACK!!!

[thejamaicanweeb]

Mitosis - Soul Division Lesson 1-1: Orientation Daze

Hello Friends! Here is the prologue to this fan fiction!

https://tinyurl.com/obey-me-mitosis-prologue

And here is the link to the previous part! 

https://tinyurl.com/mitosis-fic1-1

And finally, thank you so much for continuing to read! It means a lot =3

Jan 6th 2020, Sunday

Like after the meeting with the Dean, all the planning and packing and saying goodbye everything felt so freaking surreal but at least I can finally identify how else I feel. That’s right folks, I’m pissed as fuck.

           I mean, I was terrified. Like on the verge of collapsing terrified, but I’m also pissed. And tired. Hella tired. Today has been long. Longer than any day I've ever gone through, and man, I have been through some days before, can I tell yuh? The last thing I remember was trying my best to keep my crying quiet as Mummy and Daddy drove us to the airport. I must’ve really looked like a wreck cause Matthew held my hand the whole time and he isn’t a touchy-feely person in the slightest. Like at all. There he goes, being the mature one when he’s supposed to be my baby brother. After a while, I had stopped crying and began looking around at everything and everyone and everywhere. An entire year.  It will be an entire year. What if I forget about my likkle island, ee? [ee: huh] I wanted to remember as much as I could. 

Then I woke up in Hell.

No, yup. I’m not kidding. I woke up in Hell. Heck. The Bad Place...or the “Devildom” which is what these people are calling it.

I didn’t get to say “goodbye” or “I love you”.

Suffice to say, my initial feeling when I woke up was not a happy one.

           I woke up with a jolt, with that same heart-pounding, adrenaline-fueled awakening you get when you have a nightmare about falling. My hands flew up to my face, knocking my glasses off. To add insult to injury, my uncoordinated ass poked myself in the eye. FML.

"OW! What the ever-living frick-" I grumbled, squinting around with my other eye to find them. Thankfully, they hadn't gotten far. I bent over, rubbed them with the corner of my T-shirt and put them back on.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see when the world snapped back into focus.

           The word "room" seemed inadequate to describe the gargantuan space I was in. Huge vaulted stone ceilings arched high above me, reminding me of all the pictures of cathedrals (I know, 'llow me nuh [leave me be]). The sheer scale of it made me feel tiny. I glanced at one of the tall narrow windows and did a double-take, blinking hard.

Nope, I'm not crazy. That is definitely the night sky. Am I dreaming?

Did I reach already? Did I fall asleep without telling mom and dad I reached? Oh crap.

           I knew that I needed to call and let them know that I was ok, but stringing my thoughts into commands that were coherent enough for my limbs to carry out was proving to be quite a challenge. My head was pounding, the pain behind my eyes warning me I was teetering on the edge of a migraine. Reflexively, I reached for my medicine bag. If I get to the Panadol quickly enough, I might be able to fend it off before it gets any worse. No way I'm about to spend my first day in this unknown country throwing up in a dark room.

Aaaand I couldn’t find my bag.

           The idea that my inhalers, allergy meds, BP meds, my *phone*, my *passport* weren't close by made my stomach churn and knot up with anxiety. My already fast breathing got worse. Not exactly what someone wants when you're trying to avoid an attack. I took my glasses off and closed my eyes, willing my surroundings to return to normal. Alas, when I cracked one eyelid open to peak, there was no difference. I groaned and shut them back again.

Focus Sinai. Breathe. Now, what's the last thing you can remember?

           I wracked my brains but I couldn't remember anything beyond driving on Palisadoes Strip to the airport. Don't remember saying goodbye, checking onto the flight; nothing like that. The only seemingly logical conclusion was that I was dreaming. I nodded off during car rides all the time, and Lord knows I've had way more bizarre dreams than this.

So I figured all I have to do is wake up. Simple, right?

I have never been more wrong in my entire life.

           I put my glasses back on and took another look around; more details of my surroundings coming to my attention. I was on a wooden chair that was ornately carved and sturdy. Judging by the (lack of) feeling in my butt, I was probably sitting in it for a long while. I slowly tried to stand up, but my legs weren't having it.

"Woah! Crap!" I had to grab onto the chair handles to keep from falling over as my knees buckled and the pins and needles feeling prickled at the soles of my feet.

As I waited for my legs to work like they used to before (I'm sorry, I had to) I got the biggest shock so far at the time. I was too busy looking up and around me that I missed what was going on right in front of my nose.

           In front of me were 8 wooden chairs, larger and grander than the one I was using for support. The way they were set up kinda reminded me of a courtroom. One was on a dais that was higher than the other seven, which were side by side in a row. Above each of the seven chairs were tapestries with different creatures.Yeah, I know beautiful; but the goddamn tapestries weren't the problem. It was the five strangers that were staring straight at me.

           The anxiety twisted into genuine fear. Every news report I have ever seen heard or read about sex trafficking and abduction and murder came to mind with an irritatingly high level of clarity. I slowly shifted to stand behind my chair, my pulse rushing hard and fast enough to drown out everything other than my now frantic thoughts. The ground beneath my feet began to feel like it was shifting. You know damn well yo' girl held into that damn chair for dear life 'cause droppin' down jus' suh in front of a bag a people mi deeven know? No sah. [fainting in front of strangers? Hell no.]

            In hindsight, now that things have settled down it's not like I coulda done much if dem did try fi do me sumn stillz. My one, deggeh deggeh self against five men. All worse it turns out they weren't what they appeared to be? Anyway, I digress. 

[There wasn’t anything I could really do if they tried to attack me. Me, on my own against these guys?]

            The man sitting on the highest chair stood up and began to walk down from the platform towards me. My heart sank when he drew closer. He was huge. Not just height-wise, but he was built with enough solid muscle that even the conservative bright red military jacket.... coat.... thing.... he wore couldn't hide it. I wouldn't have been surprised if he could pick me up with one hand and I'm not the lightest person. I involuntarily took a step back, causing the chair legs to scrape across the stone slabs.

Ok, I think that I can get good enough leverage to lift and swing this is this guy tries anything... afterwards...well I'll work that out when I come to it.

           He stopped a few feet from me. I could see his face clearly now. His auburn hair lay on his forehead with his left sweeping bangs nearly covering his bright, golden-brown eyes. His nails were painted black, but what stood out the most was the gentle smile on his face. His arms were open in the universally known "I mean you no harm" gesture. I let go of the back of the chair.

           Now I know, I know. I'm naïve, stupid, overly trusting. Whatever. You're probably right; but for whatever reason, at that moment I had a gut feeling that this guy wasn't going to hurt me. I mean, he could have when I was unconscious, right? Fuck, maybe he could even tell me what the heck was going on here.

"Welcome to the Devildom, Sinai"

Aaaaand there goes my little bubble of trust ‘cause how on earth does he know my name? Did he jack my ish? I shivered and started to look around again, keeping an eye out for possible escape routes this time.

           No such luck. See here's the problem. There is no "flight" option for me under the best of circumstances. Yo' girl is *not* a runner. I can kick, I can punch but I cannot run. The closest set of doors were these towering heavy-looking dark stained wooden ones that I wasn't even sure I could budge; let alone throw open and run through them. Plus, I'm pretty sure that this guy would be able to catch me without even needing to run.

           My lack of response and the look on my face was clearly a dead giveaway to the guy that I was T-Minus 10 seconds from completely and utterly losing my shit. He crossed his arms, his eyebrows drawn together in what seemed like genuine concern.

"Feeling a bit shocked, are we?"

No shit Sherlock! I had to literally bite my tongue to stop myself from expressing *that* particular sentient aloud. And while we're at it, WTF is a 'Devildom'?

"As a human, it will probably take a little while for you to adjust to things here in the Devildom.”

Pop quiz guys! What do you think the phrase "As a human" implies here?

That's right! This guy was something other than a human being!

I was fully waiting (And hoping. And praying) for a hidden camera crew to appear, laugh at me and send me along my merry way. Just something, anything that made more sense than what was happening right now.

"The Devildom?" I heard myself parrot back at him, hating how high pitched and false my voice sounded. I swear that it jumps up a whole octave when I'm stressed.

The man... can I even still call him that after that whole human comment? Anyway, he smiled and nodded at me encouragingly.

"Yes, exactly the Devildom. I can see you catch on quickly. Excellent"

"I wouldn't exactly call that 'catching on' Imma be real with you chief," I muttered softly enough for him to miss.

"My name is Diavolo."

Finally, a name. Why not lead with that fam? I nodded and gave him a brief, tight-lipped smile only for his next statement to bring me to a screeching halt mentally, physically, shit, even spiritually.

"I'm the ruler of all the demons and all here know of me"

The note of authority and pride were so clear, I believed him with no doubt.

A wave of nausea that had nothing to do with my impending crushed me like a tsunami.

           Now I will not lie, it's been a good while since I've been to church. I grew up Anglican and may have forgotten a lot of stuff, but I was pretty damn certain that the general idea was to end up high above in the clouds, not underground or wherever. My hands started trembling and my palms were sweating. The buzzing in my ears made everything else seem fuzzy. I needed to listen to these warning signs. I needed to get out of there and fast, otherwise I would be a crying, hyperventilating ball of absolute panic. Lord knows how long. I kept screaming at myself to calm down, but I could. Not. Get. A. Grip.

Did I die? Am I dead?

Is my family dead? Where are they?

Was that the last time I've seen Mummy and Daddy and Mattie again?

Oh, God. Oh my God. Lawd 'ave mercy. Is whe mi do? What did I do?

           Shadows appeared at the edges of my vision like little blobs of ink. My heart was making my chest ache, it was going so fast. Much too fast, it can't sustain this. I would die. I knew it. If I hadn't died, I certainly was going to then. Or maybe that's what Hell... the Devildom is. Dying over and over again.

           I didn't even feel myself being lead through a pair of glass doors onto a balcony until the cool breeze caused my skin to come to life with goose pimples. Diavolo had led me outside. For a terrifying moment my frenzied, irrational lizard brain swore that he was going to push me over the edge, but no. He had just put an open palm on my back to steady me. He bent down to get closer to my level.

"Sinai, I know this must be scary and a terrible shock and I offer my sincerest apologies for that," he said quietly, his eyes earnest. I nodded jerkily, a puppet with an anxious puppeteer. "Breathe. I'm not going to hurt you."

           He straightened back up and gestured to the view below speaking out loud, making it seem like he had simply intended to show me the different parts of the campus. For that I was grateful. I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths. I focused on the feeling of the balcony railing I was gripping on to. I focused on the warmth of the hand pressed to my back. I focused on the cool night air of the foreign land with a combination of smells that woke me up and bewitched me at the same time. I opened my eyes so I could truly take in the sprawling kingdom... Devildom in front of me. Windows of buildings glowed every hue imaginable. A castle with huge spires towered over the immediate town and mountains silhouetted by the moon towered over that. As afraid as I was, I had to admit that the sight was breathtaking. I was calm enough to sit down and list things I was fairly certain of.

Ok so here we go

1.      I'm not dead. (...at least not right now. Ugh, stop being dramatic)

2.      I'm not dreaming either

3.      I don't seem to be in any immediate danger

It took me a moment to realize that Diavolo had stopped talking.

"Do you have any questions, Sinai?"

Fifty thousand and one of them. But the one I wanted to be answered most urgently was overridden by a query so bizarre yet important if I really was in a foreign land. 

“Was I decontaminated before you bought me to this place?” 

Diavolo frowned and glanced at the others sitting in the chairs. Everyone looked baffled. Not a good sign.

“... No… why would that be necessary?” the prince’s voice was slow and calm, but the concern on his face refused to be hidden.

I stepped back, away from him and the others. I didn’t even have on my mask, Mummy had had me wearing one from the get-go since I was part of the “at-risk” population.

“There’s a virus that’s going around. Like spreading everywhere, fast. I don’t wanna bring it here. I mean, I don’t have it, but just to be safe…” 

I trailed off since I had started stumbling over my own words too much to be making much sense. The room was silent before they started laughing. Now I was confused. Diavolo (much to my eternal shame) ruffled my hair.

“Hey!” my voice cracked and came out as a squeak. I felt my face warming up. Fight me, damnit! The Prince chortled, completely unbothered.

“Sinai, I’m touched by your concerned but rest assured, it would take a very severe illness to be a serious threat to us.”

"Ok, just making sure,” I mumbled, “So then... why am I here?" At that moment, some movement from the chairs behind Diavolo caught my attention.

"I will explain everything to you."

The goosebumps were back, not because of fear this time. To be honest, I'm still not sure why they came back, but come back they did. This man's voice was deeper, more aloof. His fair skin was a stark contrast to his ebony hair, and he was within inches of Diavolo's height. When I made eye contact, I inhaled sharply. Black bleeding into burgundy, which then shifted to a bloody crimson. I glanced away, but I still felt like I was being scanned or X-rayed. It was bizarre.

Apparently that man was Lucifer. The Lucifer.

Well, shit. Lord, help me.

Oh well. At least I'd finally be learning what's happening.

                                ψ(._. )> S T A G E    C H A  N G E ψ(._. )>

The top half of the door of the RAD bookshop was ajar. It looked forlorn without the demon who normally ran it leaning over the counter. Down the aisles, deep into the recesses of the store, the glow of a laptop caused the merchandise to cast warped shadows on the walls. Two demons scrutinized the screen, the bars representing the popularity contest results reflected in their eyes. 

“Huh,” the taller of the two ran a hand through his already messy white hair, “Ya actually managed to pull it off,”

“Told you I got this,” His friend’s bright grin stood out against his rich deep brown complexion His grin shifted into a smug smirk as he leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

Mammon shrugged, shaking his head.

“I just thought it would take a while, ya know?”

“You really think I’d set up an online ballot and not leave a back door for myself?” Mephistopheles snorted, closing the windows. Mammon smirked and gave the shorter demon a high five.

“See, this is why I keep ya around Phis! He crowed as he dropped into the chair beside Mephistopheles, causing it to roll back with his momentum. 

“Yeah, it has nothin’ to do with the fact that I work somewhere full of merchandise. Put that watch down, you bastard,” Mephistopheles retorted, the laughter in his voice taking the sting out of his words.

“Can’t get anythin’ past you,” The Avatar of Greed put the yellow-gold timepiece he had been fiddling with back on its shelf. “The flat top works for ya by the way,”

“Oh I know,” The demon was using his front camera to survey his jade-green style “and I was talking about the one from a week ago,”

Mammon froze for a moment, then whirled around.

“What the- how did ya even- did you get cameras installed or somethin’?” he spluttered.

“I didn’t” Mephistopheles admitted, taking a swing from his sports drink “but I do keep track of my stock and something wasn’t adding up…”

Mammon’s mouth was half open in protest, but a good comeback escaped him. He settled for throwing the other demon a look of wide-eyed reproach 

“Hey, no fair, you played dirty,” he grumbled. 

“Yeah yeah, come get your DDD, it’s ringing,” Mephistopheles said as he scooted backwards, Mammon’s DDD in hand. Mammon snatched it from him as he went past.

“Better answer quick It’s Lucifer” he warned, stopping himself and starting to roll back from where he came from. He cringed, sympathetic, as he saw the blood drain from his friend’s face.

“Good luck,” he said, getting up and sauntering to the storefront.

Mammon hurriedly cleared his throat before sliding the phone icon to the side.

“Yoooo,” he said, his leg jittering up and down.

“Yo, waah g’waan?”

Mammon recoiled and squinted at the phone. No, he didn’t misread the caller ID. The voice certainly wasn’t Lucifer, though. It was friendly with an easy-going accent he was sure he had heard somewhere before, but he couldn’t place it. The fact that the speaker was female was the biggest give away. But it didn’t sound like any of the witches either. His expression darkened as he concluded that he was being duped. He wasn’t amused. 

“Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?” he demanded.

“Woah, calm yourself an’ watch the attitude, fam” the voice shot back. He heard her sigh, and she spoke again, “Sorry. I’m Sinai?”

Well, that was a name he hadn’t heard in a few millennia……. 

“What, you mean like the mountain?”

She snickered “Nah, well I-yes, but actually no… I’m a human, not a geographical feature”

“Ah gotcha,” Mammon replied, nodding before he fully processed what he heard. “Wait what? A human? Why didn’t ya start with that? Had me getting chills over here,” he griped. 

He finally let the tension leave his body and he leaned against the wall. His brow unknitted slightly as she laughed softly again.

“Yeah, my bad. Any-”

“So,” he said, cutting her off as he inspected his nails, “what business does a human got with THE Mammon?”

“Oh ‘The Mammon’ huh?” she asked sardonically “Lol aite then. Well, congrats, you’re in charge of me for the next year.”

Mammon snorted as he peeled himself off the wall and began to wander around the store aimlessly

“Human, I don't know who you think you are, but ya got the wrong demon,” A warning note crept into his voice. In the back of his mind he toyed with the idea of just hanging up, but he had to admit he was a bit curious about how this human even knew his number.

“Who are you anyway and whaddya mean by “be in charge of you”?

He met Mephistopheles’ eyes. The stockier demon looked about as baffled as Mammon felt. They both shrugged and Mephistopheles took his computer back to the front with him. He turned his attention back to the phone; the human was saying something else.

“Bruh, why yuh sound more lost than I do? Do I have the wrong number?” she was getting exasperated.

“AAH!” Mammon clapped a hand to his forehead as it finally clicked, “Oh yeah, I remember you’re the other human.”

“Well yeah, who else would I be?”

“Who knows? Anyway, g’luck with that whole babysitter thing. See ya~”

He was about to end the call when he heard other voices in the background from her end of the call. The human said something to someone else before her voice got clearer again.

“Yo, Lucifer wants you,”

Mammon rolled his eyes and let go of the notebook he was absent mindedly flipping through. Not even two minutes into their first conversation and this chick was already shaping up to be a real pain in the ass. Plus, it seemed she was taking him as a joke.

“Pfft whatever,” he said, dismissively, “Ya think that THE Mammon would listen to ya just ‘cause you’re tryin’ to scare me with that name?”

A deep, familiar voice answered instead, making his hair stand on end and sweat start to bead on his forehead. 

“You’ve got 10 seconds,” Lucifer’s voice made his stomach sink, “9...8…”

“YESSIR!” 

Mammon vaulted over the bottom half of the door, leaving a chuckling Mephistopheles in his wake. He was fuming.

“Get me in trouble with Lucifer right off the bat huh?” he muttered darkly “Just ya wait, human, by the time I’m through with ya you’ll be beggin’ Diavolo to send ya back home.”

[jojuarez26]

We fell in love in a hopeless place part8

Divergent fanfiction: Eric/OC

Mature content and strong language

I do not own any part of Divergent

@pathybo @tigpooh67 @lunaschild2016 @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @scorpio2009 @jaihardy @badassbaker @mom2reesie @sparklemichele @ariwolff14 @ericdauntless @captstefanbrandt @kenzieam @iammarylastar @frecklefaceb

"So you are all aware of the security breech that occurred in our faction last night. The lawyer that is currently in our custody has answers we need." I address the other four faction leaders and our three heads of security.

"So why don't we have them yet?" Macy our newest leader inquiries.

"She wants our guarantee of protection. Apparently she is in fear of her life if she talks."

"Do you believe that?" Marty, another leader asked.

I had spent the better part of two hours asking myself that before calling for this meeting.

"I do. I let her know all the crimes I will personally charge her with. Several result in the death penalty if found guilty. She is willing to take her chances with a trial without a guarantee of some sort of protection."

"So what are you thinking? Any ideas as to who or what she is afraid of?" Max wanted to know.

"Nothing definitively. I have a few educated guesses. The problem is I can't figure out what motives they would have and the chosen target does not make sense without a further investigation. The only possible scenario I can come up with is going after the trust fund. But there are too many holes in that theroy at this time." I had numbed my brain trying to come up with anything that made sense.

"Has anyone spoke with Jack Kang yet?" Marty asked.

"We've tried to make contact. But so far he has refused any communication from both Eric and myself." Max provided.

"Should we be evoking council? What leg do we have to stand on to demand answers and cooperation at this point?"

I had also been doing my research into this matter all afternoon as well. So far I didn't like my options.

"There are several things we could do at this point. However I don't like any of the current options. They all put Sam's name out there to publicly with not enough knowledge of what the repercussions and possible danger it may present to her."

"Eric, since when have you given a shit how others are affected. You usually only give a damn about producing results." Harrison spoke pointedly.

Before I even had a chance to open my mouth and unleash a verbal assault of epic proportions, Max spoke up. He wanted to keep the peace, but the tone of his voice also gave away the level of his anger.

"Samantha Miller isn't the average citizen of any faction. The unspeakable acts she has endured in her life time have left not only physically but mental and emotional scars that run deep. Her family also carries a very demanding and dominated presence in Candor. This paints a big ass target for several reasons right on her back."

"Samantha's safety is our first priority. That means everything and anything pretaining to this investigation will be handled carefully and as quietly as possible. Do I make myself clear." Max left no room for questions or comments. He was furious

I wanted to thank him, congratulate him or something. But I kept my mouth shut and just nodded my head in approval at the resounding yes sir echoing around the room. I would personally see to it anybody who caused harm or the potential for harm to Sam was punished to the fullest extent of my power.

"So where does that leave us? Also what do we know about how these security breeches occurred."

The meeting carried on for another three hours. We took dinner while trying to come up with how to deal with all aspects of the situation. I was cranky as fuck and desperately in need of a smoke and a stiff drink by seven. I decided on going to check on Sam first.

"Eric. A word first please." Dr.Marx intercepted me before I reached her room.

"It can't wait?" I asked letting my annoyance ooze in my tone.

"No. It can not. I need you to be informed and calm before I allow you to see her." My heart skipped a beat. I stood starring at the doctor fighting to keep my composure.

"What the fuck is the problem and why haven't I been contacted before now." My tone was ice cold and so was my glare.

Dr.Marx flinched slightly and took a step back from me. I"m pretty sure he has never been a victim of my actual temper or on the receiving end of my out of control rage.

"I did try to contact you. Several times as a matter of fact. Your airheaded secretary said you where in an important meeting and could not be distributed."

I was impressed at how he dared to stand his ground. I have to make a mental note to fire Jamie first thing in the morning. But he was still on my current shit list.

"You never called my cell phone." I gritted my teeth in an effort to not spew the rest of them venom on my tongue.

"I did. All five cell phone signals where jammed. Apparently due to the nature and levels of privacy needed for the meeting you where all in."

I felt the rage slowly creeping up my spine. Lucky for the doctor not as much of it was focused on him anymore.

"Next time you have my personal permission to interrupt any meeting I am in if there is an Emergency with Sam. I'll send an email out to the security team."

He gave a grateful nod and gestured with his head to follow him to his office. When he finally got ready to speak he hesitated. I"ve known the man forever and I don't think I had ever seen him look at a loss in the way he did in this moment.

"What happened? What's the problem? Is she alright?" I couldn't take the uncomfortable silence anymore.

"There has to be a traitor somewhere in my staff. What makes it worse is this individual is very knowledgeable about Samantha, the nature of her problems and how to provoke her." I seen unbridled anger brewing in his eyes with each word he spoke. This made me start to feel on edge.

"What the fuck happened today Elvin?" An eerie chill washed over me waiting for his response.

"Somebody put a steak knife and a photo of a dead dog and one of Samantha's sister Gina on her lunch tray. Gina for obvious reasons and dogs for one's that not just anyone would know are triggers for unwanted thoughts and behavior in Samantha." A dark look that matched my murderous anger crossed his face

"She was attacked by a dog when she was twelve. The dog was trained and provoked by her father. Samantha had to kill the dog to protect herself. The attack itself isn't what upsets her. Having to kill the dog because her father had made it mean so it was the dogs fault is what stuck with her from the whole incident. Obviously the picture of her sister is self explanatory."

I knew the part that came next was going to put me over the edge. I tried to steel my emotions in anticipation of his next words. I could barely manage to stay seated.

"Samantha made another attempt at her own life. Luckily she managed very little damage in the attempt due to the poor condition of the object and quickness at which her guard realized the situation "

I stood and threw my fist several times at the wall behind me. Whoever the fuck was responsible for this would pay with their life. That was a promise. I took deep breaths and tried to regain my composure. Sam needed me now. She also needed me to be as calm as possible. I wasn't cut out for this. I truly wasn't. Whatever forces of nature thought putting me in Sams life had a sick fucking twisted sense of humor.

"I've made sure to put her room on a code orange restriction." The doctor informed me.

"Which means what?" I demand.

"No unauthorized visitors. She is restricted to staff of my choice and leaders. Nothing is to enter her room before it is thoroughly inspected by staff and her guard. I also moved her to a room with a security camera that monitors live footage."

"She is a very special patient for several reasons. But the one that makes this all personal is that she is my niece. Sara and Alyson are my sisters "

I have to admit I didn't see that coming. The revelation gave me some comfort in knowing he would by any means necessary keep her safe.

"Do you know any reason or anyone, have any clue at all why this is happening to her. Who would want to harm her or benefit from this in anyway." I was desperate to come up with anything that would help me put a stop to this.

"It has to stem from Candor or Erudite. Possibly both."

"Erudite? Why Erudite?" I tried to hide my surprise but am pretty sure I failed miserably.

"My sister was born Erudite. Her transfer to Candor and marriage to Quentin was all prearranged. A deal between my father and Neil Miller."

"A deal? What kind of deal? That's fucking insane." This was quickly becoming the largest conspiracy theory I had ever encountered.

"I'n not sure of the purpose or the details. What I do know is Sara didn't comply willingly. She never wanted to leave Erudite. She also wanted nothing to do with Quentin. Sara was in love with David Matthews." I could tell he was uncomfortable telling his dead sisters secrets.

"As in Jeanine Matthews brother David?" I was officially stunned. However if Jeanine was involved with any of this it meant corruption and deadly stakes where in play.

"There very one. I don't think he ever quite recovered from the whole ordeal either." The pain of the past painted his voice.

"I will do everything within my means to stop this and protect her. I give you my word. Can I see her now?" I was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to lay eyes on her, to see for myself she was alive and well.

"Of course. I know you will do whatever you can for her. But please do me a favor Eric. Don't make yourself be another hardship in her life. I know you won't on purpose, but for her sake be highly aware of what you make her feel. She certainly could survive that kind of pain,"

I was suddenly very aware of the potential risk I was to Sam's well being. I found myself suddenly stuck in my chair. Maybe it was best that I stay away. No it WAS what was best. I just couldn't bring myself to actually do it. I had to see her. It was like Sam had become my drug. I am addicted and have no intentions on going to rehab.

Life as I knew it had forever changed the moment I decided to save her. The only question now is will we both make it out alive.

[elfnerdherder]

Where the Wicked Walk: Ch. 15

You can read Chapter 15 on Ao3 Here

Check out my Patreon and join the squad! Early releases, character info, sneak peeks, and a chance to support an artist! ;)

Chapter 15: Mesmeric Revelation

           That night, long after he heard the clattering of dinner plates and laughter, long after he heard music and chatter, and far long after he heard doors closing, showers running, and feet mumbling, Will Graham left his room. It had been locked, but the gum did its job and kept the bolt from setting. A mere fiddling with the ink cartridge of his pen did the rest of the job, and the lock turned with a muted, triumphant click.

            His feet padded along the soft carpet that muffled his steps, and the solidly built stairs didn’t betray him. He paused before the front door, staring. Every muscle in him begged him to go to it, begged him to throw the locks and make a break for it until he could find a road and a good Samaritan to help him.

           He didn’t, though.

           Just how many stalked the trees surrounding the house? Just how many cameras were on every angle he could take to escape? He thought of Matthew knowing the moment he’d tried to run, and he rocked back on his heels, away from the door.

           Instead, he made his way down another hall and headed towards the security room.

           He didn’t expect it to be empty. No matter how many slept, Dr. Lecter was no fool. Sure enough, poking his head in, he saw Francis beside one of the monitors. His back was to Will, but that didn’t stop him from seeing the antenna of a satellite phone that cut into the shadows of the room, nor did it stop him from seeing the map lit dimly by a few desk lamps and the monitor’s glow.

           “You got the voicemail? Good. He’s getting desperate.”

           A pause as Dolarhyde listened to the speaker.

           “The man whose phone was bugged got transferred. I’ve got another guy, but he’s not there yet. Dr. Lecter needs you to find out exactly what they know so far, that we can plan the next step.”

           Another pause, and Will swallowed, a dry click in his throat.

           “You don’t need to know how many dead. You’ll see soon enough.”

           He hung up and set the phone off to the side, beside the monitor. There was a pause, a long and dreadful silence as Dolarhyde stared down at the monitor. The lamplight gave his bones a sharp edge, his mouth a cruel twist. The hollows of his cheeks were pronounced, the curve of his shoulder elegant.

           Truth be told, he looked like a dragon.

           Will slipped down the hall and hunkered down in a corner of it, melding himself into the shadows. From his pocket, he produced a hairclip, nothing more than one of the things he’d found in one of the many bedrooms. Decidedly, and with a fair amount of careful aim, he tossed it at the door. It smacked the wood, fell with a quiet and plaintive thump.

           It took less than two seconds.

           Dolarhyde was at the door, his sharp gaze peering into the dark. The light behind him gave him an ethereal glow as he turned his head one way, then another. Even hidden as Will was, he still felt too exposed, far too noticeable as Dolarhyde took one step, then another out of the door his nose to the air like he could smell Will if he tried hard enough.

           After a pained, loud heartbeat, Dolarhyde turned away from Will and headed down the hall to investigate.

           The moment he was gone, Will rushed into the room.

           The satellite phone was first, although he paused long enough by the computer to glance at it.

Thirty-Two Dead in Will Graham Killing Spree:

The Faces of Will Graham: Dozens Dead in Lecter Slayings

Where is Will Graham?

           News updates. Links to articles. Dolarhyde was watching the media as much as he was trying to watch the FBI. If time hadn’t been a rapid pulse bulging right beneath his eye, Will would have stopped to read them, glean over the first one in particular –thirty-two dead? Will Graham Killing Spree?

           Another time; some time when Dolarhyde wasn’t hunting through the house to see who lurked outside of his door at 3:30 in the morning.

           The back door was quickly unlocked, and he was rushing down the steps before he had time to really consider his actions, before he could wonder just what was going to happen when he was caught.

           Fingers fumbled over a phone number he’d come to memorize over the years, a failsafe to him in times of need or duress. He hadn’t had occasion to use it in six years, normal as things had seemed, but he used it now, running across the back lawn to the safety of the shadows of trees. The air was cold, wet. Cicadas screamed for their lives.

           He didn’t answer the first two times, and Will let out a hiss of impatient air as he dialed it again. If he’d risked his live, if he’d risked his fucking life just for the bastard to ignore his call…

           “Crawford here,” Jack said tiredly.

           Relief seared him, a pleasant burn that made his legs give, and Will pressed his back to the tree, a sob managing to rip past his lips.

           “Jack…Jesus, you finally picked up.” Will let out a sharp, aggravated breath of air as he hunched down, cradling the phone close to his face like the lifeline that it was. “Jack…it’s Will.”

-

           “Cold as shit out here,” Duncan commented.

           Earl swirled his spit around in his mouth before he spat it on the ground before them. Their rocking chairs creaked out of time, and the autumn breeze sent the wind chimes to clacking and smacking together in a horrendous cacophony. Late evening, and the crickets yowled.

           “Hate them wind chimes,” Earl muttered. “Debbie likes them.”

           Duncan grunted. “Debbie likes being a pain in my ass.”

           “Yeah,” Earl said with a snort.

           “Yeah.”

           They stared out at the road, the distant sound of semi-trucks roaring by on the interstate their only companion. It was quiet in Telefar County, peaceful. Sunsets were mighty nice.

           Cold as shit, though.

           “She gonna make us come out here every time we chew?” Duncan asked.

           “Says she wants her house ‘to be a fuckin’ home’.”

           “I’ll show her a fuckin’ home. God damned forty-five fuckin’ degrees out here.”

           “She’ll slap you with the barrel of that shotgun in there, that’s what she’ll do,” Earl replied. “Did it to her brother just the other night, came home drunk and shouting.”

           “No shit?”

           “Slapped him with the barrel of that sum’bitch, tossed him outside to sleep out here.”

           “All ‘cause she found those church folks,” Duncan muttered. “God damn pastor coming around every other weekday. ‘Askin me, when I’m gonna get my ass to the pews? Bein’ a veteran an’ all, when’s my ass gonna warm a pew?” He sent a decisive wad of spit out onto the dirt; a complimentary response to a ridiculous notion as a Sunday morning sermon. “I serve my God’n my country, ‘n I figure I find God in more holier places than a church. Get my spir’tual en-light-ment from the forest, see.”

           Earl hummed in agreement. “More’n one way to skin a cat. More’n one way to love a God.”

           “Got damn eight AM service, wantin’ me to slap my ass on a cold pew,” Duncan continued. When he got on a roll, it was hard to deter him. “Cold as shit pew.”

           “Better them church folks than those god damn psychos running up and down the east coast,” Earl said. He watched his old dog, Mutt, lazily crawl out from under the house in order to plop himself properly at his master’s feet. He nudged him with his boot, rubbed the dog’s side with the heel of it. His tongue lolled as his tail whapped against the wood.

           “Saw that,” Duncan said with a sneer. “Bunch of crazies with their panties in a damn knot, stealin’ them doctors and killing cops.”

           Earl spat on the ground. “God damn cop killers.”

           “Death penalty for cop killers is what I’m saying,” Duncan pressed. “That’s all I’m sayin’, they won’t stop killing if they think they’ll just get a slap on the wrist. They’ll just keep killin’ cops, and I heard that doctor was a nice fellow; testified on account of his finding one of those agents and all. Saved his life since he got stuck with a knife.”

           Earl was stopped from sharing his own opinion on the fate of cop killers when a car pulled up in their yard and eased to a stop. It was a fancy sort of thing, black with chrome accents and tinted windows. The man that climbed out of it looked the real city sort; slicked back hair, leather dress shoes, and a blazer of all the god damn things.

           “Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted.

           Earl and Duncan shared a look. Duncan spat on the ground, and Earl rocked in his rocking chair.

           “It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” the man pressed.

           “Cold as shit,” Duncan grunted. “Forty-five fuckin’ degrees.”

           “It is chilly.”

           Silence. The car idled, and Earl wondered what sort of year it was. 2015? 2017? His cousin had a really nice Subaru, 2015 with a decent paint job.

           Duncan didn’t have such curiosities. “You lost there, boy?”

           “I am a bit turned around, yes,” the man said with an awkward laugh. “Would you mind giving me directions?”

           “You ain’t from around here, are yeh,” Earl noted.

           “No, sir, I’m not.”

           “What’s a boy like you doing out here? Where you headed?”

           “It’s a bit personal –I hope you understand.”

           Duncan and Earl exchanged looks, and Duncan snickered. Earl absently spit another wad out into the yard.

           “Oh, I understand just fine,” Duncan assured him.

           Silence once more. The man shifted, unsure of himself. Mutt huffed a breath and lifted his head, only now just recognizing a stranger in the yard. He peered up at Earl, as if silently questioning if he should do something about it.

           “Oh, you see it now, do you, Mutt?” Earl grunted. He nudged the dog affectionately and swirled the chew around in his mouth. Tasted like ass, but he’d eat his leg rather than give it up.

           “Really, gentlemen, if I could just-”

           “We don’t take kindly to strangers just hustlin’ along and getting right in our business, see?” Duncan said. He stood up and adjusted his pants, hitching them up at his hips. “So you just get along now and go buy one of them maps at a gas station like all the other folks do when they get lost down here.”

           “Damn Yankees,” Earl muttered in agreement.

           The man was dumbfounded, and he looked between the two of them with the same kind of expression Debbie had when she went to throw a cup away and splashed chew all over her arm. She hadn’t realized it was his chewing cup ‘till that moment, but god almighty he’d never heard the end of it. Now, he was stuck outside in the cold-as-shit weather when he wanted a chew.

The stranger’s eyes bugged for a moment, and he let out a laugh, incredulous as all get out.

           “You’re serious.”

           “As serious as sin, boy,” Earl said. “Got all them crazies runnin’ around our state, fuckin’ things up and makin’ us get some bad publicity. Last thing we need’s a Yankee boy comin’ down here, huntin’ and gettin’ lost and comin’ after our women.”

           “I’m here on business, it’s simply that-”

           “Telefar County business is our business, see,” Duncan interjected. “And since you’re inclined to your secrets, we’ll be inclined to ours. Secrets like directions, see?”

           Silence again.

           Earl squinted a bit at him, and when the stranger didn’t immediately move to leave, he stood up and went shoulder to shoulder with Duncan, giving him his most impressive stare down. It was a damn good one, all things considered. Farm work and ranch work had left him leathered, sun-beaten and wrinkled. Debbie still liked him, though, when she’d had one shot too many. She said he was a pretty as a newborn babe.

           Now that all those bible thumpers got her roped into weekly church, she didn’t drink no more. Probably didn’t think he was a pretty newborn babe, neither. God damn bible thumpers.

           “I’ll…be going, then,” the man said. He inched back towards his car.

           “That’s the best idea I’ve heard today, Earl.”

           “A damn fine idea, Duncan.”

           They stayed standing until the man peeled out from the yard, fast enough that it kicked rocks.

           They were just sitting down once more when another car pulled up, far less fancy and with a great deal more sputtering and general noise-making.

           “God damn, we’re popular tonight,” Duncan grunted.

           Earl fished about for another wad of chew, then tucked it into his lip. “Damn popular.”

           It wasn’t another Yankee –if it was, they were a decent sort. A pretty lady with wild red hair and the most darling baby blue eyes Earl had ever seen made her way over. She’d turned the car off and tucked the keys into her jacket pocket. Sensible shoes and a camo coat, like she knew how the hell to dress for the elements. Earl liked her infinitely better.

           “I’m sorry to bother you,” she began. The closer she got, Earl was able to see red-rimmed eyes and a trembling mouth.

           “You okay, sweetheart?” Duncan asked.

           “No, I’m…I’m not at all. I’m in desperate need of help, you see.” She fiddled with a handkerchief in hand, and she stifled a sob as her knees tried to buckle on her. At the sight of tears, that did it. Earl was down the steps and leading her up them before he could think of a reason why not to. She was seated in his rocking chair, and after several prompts to Earl, a sweet tea from the fridge was produced.

           “Now, now take it easy, little lady, what’s wrong? Someone get you bad? In some trouble?” Duncan asked. The woman fiddled with the glass and took a sip, casting them a grateful glance. Tears rimmed her eyes, although she fought to keep them back. A strong type.

           “I’m…trying to find my husband, you see,” she said. “I think he’s run off with another woman.”

           “What a got-damn, worthless-”

           “Duncan,” Earl chastised. It wasn’t right to cuss near a lady.

           “Sorry, miss, I just…if he’s left you, why are you going after him?” Duncan scratched his neck where the beginnings of a beard were growing. “Why you want him when, no offenses out here, but he clearly ain’t wantin’ you?”

           She looked up from her glass, and there was fire in her eyes. “So I can beat the sense into him, then out of him, that’s why,” she snarled.

           Earl decided he liked this gal. A sensitive sort that didn’t take shit from no one.

           “Well, we don’t get a lot of people out around here.”

           “I’ve been following him, and I think he passed this way. If I showed you a photo, could you confirm it?”

           “If we’ve seen him, we’ll tell you,” Earl promised.

           And damn, when she pulled out her phone and showed them a picture of that guy they’d just been shooing off their property, it just made Earl’s heart swell a bit. He looked over her head at Duncan, and Duncan looked back.

           “Yeah, sweetheart,” Duncan said with a grin, “yeah, we seen him.”

-

           “Have you ever thought about killing someone, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked.

           He sometimes loved asking questions like that, mostly because of how Dr. Lecter took his time answering. He always gave Will’s question consideration due their seriousness. No matter how odd, off-the-wall, or obscene, he took his time answering. On nights when Will woke up with remnants of his night terrors clinging to his eyes, he needed to know that someone else out there felt that way, too.

           “We all have,” he said after a moment. “Although, I’d suppose you’ve given it a lot of thought lately?”

           “I keep dreaming of killing people,” Will murmured. “I keep…dreaming that I have this…insatiable hunger. That no matter how much I kill, I will always want more.”

           “Have you given your father a lot of thought lately?”

           Will nodded, standing up to pace. He often paced in Lecter’s office, and he liked to think of himself as remarkably familiar with the whorls and dips of his wooden floor. Sometimes the words got stuck, but Dr. Lecter seemed to hear them all the same.

           “Is there some form of aggression to your dreams? In the manner in which you take a life?”

           “My heartbeat feels calm…steady. It doesn’t race until I wake and think back on what I saw.”

           Will paused beside the ladder that led up to a wraparound second story, and he dragged his fingers along the grips of a step. In each groove of the wood, he imagined blood flowing like obscene rivulets, staining everything in its wake. He imagined what his hands had felt like, choking the life from the faceless victim in his nightmares, and he slumped against the ladder, rubbing his eyes to erase the remnants that felt like something much akin to a real memory.

           “In your dreams, death is a release. You’ve honed in on your talents, so much so that your heart no longer betrays adrenaline and gives way to mistakes.”

           “Do you have dreams like that?” Will asked, looking up. Poised in his chair as he was, Dr. Lecter tilted his head slightly to the side.

           “Are you seeking the feeling of normalization through familiarity?”

           “I’m wondering if I should check myself into a psychiatric ward,” Will retorted sharply.

           Dr. Lecter stood, and he crossed the distance between them at a leisurely pace. Will tracked his movements, hands lowering to his sides, and when Dr. Lecter dipped down to meet his eyes, he cringed back into the ladder, the closeness stifling and mildly off-putting.

           Dr. Lecter didn’t move back to give him space. He remained close, crowding him as he tilted his head one way, then the other; His eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed down. That close, Will could smell his cologne that blended nicely with his aftershave, and he gulped a breath of it down before his shoulders relaxed slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Silence sat muffled around them, and just outside of the window, the screech of a weed-whacker grated.

           “Apart from your general aversion to eyes, I see no glazed expression or feverish stare,” Dr. Lecter noted lightly. “Your pulse is strong in your neck, and your knees aren’t weak. You aren’t running a temperature that I can see, and you haven’t mentioned lapses of time.”

           “Wh-Why?” Will asked. Dr. Lecter didn’t step back to give him air. Will gulped down another mouthful of his cologne, and his eyes flickered up to meet a mildly amused gaze. After a shaky exhale, he looked away.

           “You wondered if you should check yourself into a psychiatric ward,” he murmured. That close, Will could track the beat of his pulse at his throat. He stared at it, the even timing of it having a mildly calming effect on his nerves. “You give no indications of a split personality, nor any illness that would cause loss of memory or lapses in time.”

           “I haven’t lost time.”

           “Have you woken in any location other than your bed?”

           “…No?”

           Hannibal smiled briefly, a faint flash of canines. “Then you’re fine, Will. Dreams reflect some aspect of ourselves, but all that this tells me is that you’re particularly stressed, and it’s manifesting in your dreams. You’ve thought often of your father recently, and the only form of control over death one can have is if they are the one to cause it, therefore; it seems to me that your fantasies of a calm, stillness to your killing is that this is the only thing your mind feels that it can control. Life, with all of inability to be predicted, is made safe and normalized with your ability to still your heart when taking a life. Better to take than to have taken.”

           Will looked up to his eyes once more, and he nodded curtly, once. Relief was a slow trickle, but it was warm, and Dr. Lecter’s answering smile as he finally backed away and let Will breathe stayed sweet in the back of his throat.

           “…That’s a relief,” he said after a beat, straightening. The ladder shifted behind him, and he pushed away from it to continue his previous pacing. “I don’t know how I’d fare in court.”

           “If it turned out that you’d killed someone?”

           “Yeah. I don’t know the statistics for a solid defense in regards to someone claiming an alternate personality, but I’d assume that the jury wouldn’t buy that so easily.”

           Hannibal laughed, a warm and low sound. “You know the statistics for soulmates in court, though.”

           Will let out a derisive snort.

           “You scoff at it?”

           “Someone…claiming that because of their soulmate, they were driven to violence is about the shittiest excuse I can think of,” Will explained. “Soulmates aren’t the end-all. They may prompt, they may entice, and they may twist your thoughts and chemicals up a bit, but you don’t lose your mind. To say that a soulmate was the cause of any actions done by a person would be like saying that they’d put a gun to your head.”

           “You’d be especially critical of a person with a half-connection, then,” Hannibal observed.

           “There is no chemical compulsion at that point. The justice system is especially skewed in regards to soulmates, but I don’t buy it. At all.”

           ‘Woe be to the fool that stands before you in trial.”

           Will sat down across from him once more, and the smile given was crooked at best. “I’m no judge…nor am I the jury or the executioner. If I’m lucky, I’ll never even have to walk into a court room so long as I live.”

A wonderful thanks to all of my patrons: @hanfangrahamk @matildaparacosm @starlit-catastrophe @frostyleegraham @sylarana @frostylicker Duhaunt6 and Superlurk!

[allenmendezsr]

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: Skinny Guy/hardgainer Niche

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Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: Skinny Guy/hardgainer Niche

 Buy Now

    If you’re like me and have always struggled to build muscle and gain weight I’ve got some bad news for you. If you keep doing what you’re doing right now you’ll never gain any significant size or strength.

That’s because you’re a hardgainer. A hardgainer CAN’T do what everyone else does and expect the same results. We don’t have the genetics for it.

It’s always going to be very difficult for us to build muscle if we keep making these same mistakes over and over again.

So, why are you still skinny and not building muscle as fast as you’d want to?

Here are five reasons…

Reason #1: You’re Ignoring the Law of Progressive Overload

To build muscle you have to get stronger.

Using the same weights for the same number of reps does absolutely nothing to force your body to adapt. You’re just spinning your wheels and wasting your time.

The guys who gain the most muscle are the guys who gain the most strength.

If your program doesn’t allow for consistent strength gains on a regular basis you’ll never build any serious muscle.

Reason #2: You’re Not Training With Enough Frequency

The more frequently you can train a muscle (while still recovering and getting stronger) the faster you’ll grow. Most bodybuilding programs have you training each muscle once a week.

But what if you planned your workouts in a way that you could train each muscle group 104 times per year instead of 52? Two times the growth stimulus would certainly lead to a hell of a lot faster results.

Reason #3: You’re Doing Too Many Sets & Reps

Forget about copying the workouts of your favorite pro bodybuilder.

The total weekly training volume they use will kill the steroid free, skinny guy who wants to build muscle.

There’s absolutely no reason to be doing numerous sets and exercises for every bodypart.

The goal is to get in, hit hard, do slightly more than you did last time (either more weight or more reps), stimulate the muscle growth process and get out.

Like Lee Haney said, “Stimulate, don’t annihilate.”

Reason #4: You Don’t Have a Proven Plan to Follow

Failing to plan is planning to fail. You can’t just go into the gym and wing it. You need a proven system to follow that will allow you to make regular gains that you can record from workout to workout in your training journal.

Stick with a plan for at least 12 weeks and for the love of all things good, PLEASE don’t be a program hopper like everyone else who never makes an ounce of progress.

Reason #5: You Never Cycle Your Training

Overzealous skinny guys love to pound themselves into the ground by always training with full-on, balls-to-the-wall intensity.

This is a surefire path to overtraining, burnout and injuries. You’re only human and the body can only withstand so much.

Yes, you have to train hard but you have to do so in a smart manner. This means you have to slowly ramp up the intensity and then pull back the reigns, give your body a break, then push forward again, trying to exceed your previous bests.

You can’t just have the pedal to the medal week in and week out or you’ll burn out in no time.

What Works For Everyone Else DOES NOT Work For Skinny Guys Like Us

Unfortunately, the way you’re training right now is robbing your body of 90% of the muscle gains you should be making.

But it’s NOT your fault.

You’ve been lied to. By supplement companies, bodybuilding mags and clueless personal trainers.

They want to keep you skinny so you can keep buying all their useless crap.

I’ve been in your shoes so I know how it feels. That’s why I want to help you end the frustration and finally start gaining some real muscle.

After many years of painstaking research and experimentation, I’ve developed a system that packs muscle on even the skinniest, most genetically cursed hardgainers around.

Over the last 23 years I’ve used this system to achieve lightning fast results with more than 52,000 thousand skinny hardgainers just like you…

Who Am I and Why Should You Listen to Me?

My name is Jason Ferruggia. You may have read my monthly “Hardgainer” column in Men’s Fitness or seen me featured in any number of magazines such as Muscle & Fitness, Men’s Health or Maximum Fitness, heard me on radio stations such as CBS and ESPN or even seen me on TV stations like ABC and Fox.

My monthly Hardgainer Column in Men’s Fitness

More importantly, I’m a former skinny hardgainer.

Growing up, I was the weakest, skinniest punk around and gaining weight was impossible for me.

When I first started training, I took advice from bodybuilders and busted my ass in the gym, trying every program and supplement under the sun for fours straight.

But I got nowhere.

Eventually I realized I couldn’t find the answers in the muscles mags or from bodybuilders so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I started spending countless hours reading through stacks of studies and over 300 books on the subject of building muscle…

I Finally Stumbled Upon the REAL TRUTH About What Skinny Guys Need to do to Build Muscle & Gain Weight…

And in doing so I overcame the worlds worst muscle building genetics and went from 147 pounds all the way up to a rock solid 204 pounds, drug free!

After 20+ years of intense research and in-the-trenches experiments, I’ve created a fail-proof program that will help hardgainers build muscle as fast as humanly possible…

Without steroids….

Without expensive supplements…

Without spending more than 4 hours a week in the gym.

Introducing Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: The Ultimate 90 Day Skinny-to-Jacked Transformation Plan

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0 is the skinny guys bible and is jam packed with tricks, tips and advanced techniques that most people have no clue about.

No overly complicated scientific formulas or insider jargon that requires a degree in advanced physiology. No nonsense, no filler, no fluff; just the hard hitting, scientific truth about exactly what you HAVE to do to build muscle faster than ever before.

If you’re sick and tired of being skinny, fat and weak this is the workout program for you.

Here’s Just a Small Sample of The Secrets You’ll Discover…

How to break through any frustrating muscle building plateau… Even if you been stuck at the same size for years.

“The 7 Anabolic Factors” that must be utilized in order to ensure rapid muscle growth. Unfortunately, most guys only use 3 or 4 of them.

The “Big 4” Exercises that build muscle like crazy.

Why your current workout isn’t thoroughly activating all of your different types of muscle fibers… And how a few simple adjustments will allow you to fully stimulate every untapped fiber, literally forcing your body to grow.

The exact sequence of workouts that produces the fastest gains.

The BEST rep range for skinny hardgainers who want to build massive amounts of muscle. Training out of this range is a waste of time.

Why traditional cardio methods suck and what REALLY works for getting ripped.

Tips and tricks to avoid common injuries.

Why the precise rest periods you take between sets is crucially important to your results. This could be the difference between being jacked and ripped versus being fat and soft.

The forgotten finisher that builds mountainous traps and thick, muscular forearms.

How to make every set of biceps exercises you do 2-3 times more effective for building sleeve ripping arms by utilizing this one simple trick.

How to get stronger EVERY week

How to dramatically increase your gains while cutting down your recovery rate between workouts by making a small adjustment to the speed at which you perform your exercises .

The BEST muscle building exercises for every body part.

Why crunches and sit ups are the absolute worst things you could do if you want a ripped, muscular six pack with no back pain.

A pre-workout warm up routine that will fire up your nervous system for enhanced performance and bulletproof your body against injuries.

An exercise NO ONE ever does that gives you the POWER LOOK.

And much, much more…

In Addition to the Main Manual You Also Get…

Printable Workout Sheets

You get a fully detailed, step-by-step raw beginner program as well as the 90-day main Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0 program. These workouts were designed with you, the skinny “hard-gainer” in mind and will pack on size and strength like nothing you’ve ever tried before.

The exact number of sets, reps, rest periods are all laid out for you in beautiful, printable workout sheets. All the guesswork and confusion has been removed.

All you need to do is follow the program to the letter for 90 days… then sit back and smile while you watch the new muscle start piling on.

30 Days Free Access to Our Private Coaching Community

That’s where you’ll be able to watch instructional videos of every exercise in the program, interact and develop lasting friendships with thousands of other members, have your questions answered, and get coaching from our professional staff.

The most important, and often missing, element in making a lasting transformation is social support. We’ve got you covered in that department. You’ll be able to post your workout logs, before and after pics, and questions for accountability to ensure the fastest rate of progress.

Kyle Gained 21 Pounds of Muscle

“Jay, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. My entire life has moved on to the next level and I feel like I owe it all to you. You’ve provided me with so much determination it can’t be expressed in words. I gained 21 lbs of mass and lost an equal amount of body-fat using your program!” Kyle Matthews

Brian Gained 23 Pounds of Muscle

“When I first started following Muscle Gaining Secrets I weighed 169. Today I’m a lean 192 pounds, can squat 365, deadlift 435 and bench press 300, respectively. By following all of his advice on nutrition, training and recovery to the letter I was able to make size and strength gains that I would’ve never imagined possible.” Brian Eskow

Geoff Gained 14 Pounds of Muscle

“I’m in the best shape of my life, because of your program. My goals: be about 210 but jacked and chiseled, able to deadlift 550, squat 400, and do a body-up or one armed pull up. Currently I deadlift around 490 & squat 405. Before picture is how I have looked for the last 4 years. After picture is due to Muscle Gaining Secrets.” Geoff C. Morehart

Christian Gained 14 Pounds of Muscle

“Stumbling upon MGS was like the answer to everything. I have complete faith in your training philosophies and feel that the words “thank you” ain’t enough. So far I have gained 14 pounds of muscle while simultaneously losing fat!

Thank you again.” Christian Bylsma

Steve Gained 10 Pounds of Muscle

“I really thought i knew everything about building muscle and gaining weight, I read every muscle magazine, and followed every stupid strength training phase that they invented. After giving myself a good slap for what an ass I had been I got into Jason Ferruggia’s Muscle Gaining Secrets. The results speak for themselves.” Steve Pharr

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q: What equipment do I need & can I train at home? Barbells and dumbbells. A basic home gym will cover you as there are no machines or fancy gym equipment required. A chin up bar and a power rack would also be a huge plus. But if you don’t have these things I’ll show you a few substitutions.

Q: How soon can I expect to see results and how much muscle can I build using this program? You should notice results within the first two weeks. After a month you’ll have made some noticeable changes, and by two months you’ll see a big difference. How big you get is ultimately determined by your genetics.

Q: Am I going to have to spend countless hours in the gym every week? Absolutely not. You’ll only have to train four days per week and you’ll be in and out of the gym in just 45 minutes!

Q: What if I don’t want to get big like a bodybuilder? Can I still use your program? Yes, you can. If you just want to achieve muscular male model type physique or the look of a pro fighter this is the best program to get you there. Getting big like a bodybuilder will take many years and a lot of steroids.

You can control how big you eventually get simply by controlling your caloric intake each week. So you determine exactly how much muscle you want to gain… a lean 10 or a massive 30+. It’s all up to you.

Q: Is this program suited for a complete beginner? Yes.  We have an introductory program for those who aren’t ready to start on the main program just yet.

Q: I want to start building muscle today. How long do I have to wait for you to ship everything to me? You don’t! Because the entire MGS 2.0 system is fully downloadable, you will get INSTANT ACCESS to it as soon as your payment is accepted. There’s no waiting at all. You can get started in the next five minutes.

Neil Gained 11 Pounds of Muscle

“Following the Muscle Gaining Secrets program I have gained 11 pounds of muscle mass while shredding 15 pounds of fat. Jason’s training principles and workouts work for all ages as I am about to turn 46 and am still gaining muscle and strength. This is the real deal for the natural strength athlete looking to get big. Cheers Jason!” Neil Archibald, UK

Gary Gained 22 Pounds Muscle

“I have used Muscle Gaining Secrets with great success from the beginning to help pack on a solid 22 pounds of muscle. Not only has your program helped me personally, but by using the knowledge I gained have from reading your work to become a successful personal trainer with more than twenty clients, doing 120 plus sessions a month.” Gary Deagle

Eddie Gained 12 Pounds of Muscle

“Since I started training with Muscle Gaining Secrets I’ve gained 12 pounds of muscle and lost over twenty pounds of bodyfat . My conditioning has improved dramatically and the sore joints I used to deal with are a thing of the past. ” Eddie Santana

Check Out Some More MGS 2.0 Success Stories From Facebook…

Download the entire system right now for just $19.95

NOTE: Muscle Gaining Secrets is a downloadable e-book. No physical products will be shipped. After you order, you will get INSTANT ACCESS to download the e-book onto your computer. The e-book format is adobe acrobat PDF, which can be viewed on Mac or PC. At the end of your 30-day free trial in the Renegade Strength Club you will be re-billed $19.95 every month for access to brand new workouts, videos, and the coaching community. Cancel hassle free at any time.