#but your gonna abandon her too and not show up to her deathbed???

[dannybobany]

Really sad omori headcanon I have (small spoilers) (Basil thing)

So, it’s never said which side of the family basils grandmother was on, but in my head she was basils maternal grandmother (as in his mom’s mom) and while this was something I just arbitrarily decided one day and didn’t give a lot of thought to…. Thinking of it now I can’t help but imagine that towards the end of her life Basils grandmother began to mistake Basil for her daughter,

And Basil wouldn’t correct her, wouldn’t tell her how she was mistaken and he was not his mother, he would let her believe that her daughter was there for her, that she had not abandoned them both … because not only did Basils parents leave him in the darkest days of his life, but they left Basils grandmother in the dying days of hers

Basils mother left her son to take her place, to let his hair grow out more then usual, to let his grandmother call him “daughter” when her real daughter had left them both behind :(

(We may not know much about Basils family but where there is potential I will FIND the angst and I will share it with everyone I can to make you all sad too)

[unohanadaydreams]

DAMAGE DONE FOR KENPACHI SOULMATE CAN YOU IMAGINE THE A N G S T AND CONFUSION

 I know ppl who follow this blog have taste because you were the the first of four ppl to ask for this exact combo jdhdjsjs. We are all Kenpachi brain rot compliant.

Features: Cutting/self harm, a real shit start to a relationship, and angst.

Bleach Your Soul: Ask Meme

Kenpachi Zaraki + Damage:

So much of your life was defined by isolation. A patient treated terminal. Everyone paid you the same attention they would a ghost, fleeting smiles and tears that fell over your bed as though it were a grave.

How could you not feel tortured and angry, to be saddled with a soul mate determined to drag you through hell with them? There were times you truly believed were your last. Stabs too close to your guts. Slashes peeling open to far towards your heart.

There was little room in your thoughts to worry about who suffered with you, other than to curse them. Whether they struggled to live or delighted in violence, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was hard to care about anything while laying in your deathbed. Through childhood, your heart withered like the flowers always dying on your window sill. If only they’d throw you away for good, as well.

You garnered hobbies to keep busy rather than to enjoy them. Your stitching, calligraphy, and precocious little drawings stained in blood more often than not. The 4th division was your jail. Your soulmate, your warden. Keeping you there, always.

For years, you begged them. Desperate to be heard--to have a modicum of fucking control--, you carved words into your skin. Were they scared the first time you did it? Did they hate it? Did it hurt them?

Vindictive, you hoped all your horrible thoughts were so. When you cut ‘stop. stop. stop. stop.’ you did it on your side and hip, so it would reopen. Again. And again. And again. And--

They never responded. No matter what you wrote. ‘Please stop.’ ‘It hurts.’ ‘Doesn’t it hurt you?’ ‘I hate you.’ ‘Who are you.’ ‘Don’t you care?’ ‘Kill me.’ ‘Die.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Slowly, then suddenly, the damage that had been near daily stopped for so many years stopped. Your family settled you back in the home, a living urn. They said your name and stroked your cheek and smiled too small when you spoke.

Your skin buzzed with the absence of what had plagued your entire youth. Was it sickness or shame that drove your blade through your skin still? Did you just miss it? Was the violence boiling you alive with no where to spill out anymore?

There were times you swore minuscule nicks would appear, healing too fast to smooth over, but staying long enough to feel. Older, able to be among people, you realized what that could mean. What kind of person you’d told to die as a pithy little tween.

Were they alive--really alive? Did anyone else care or were you the only one?

‘Songbirds.’ ‘Hello.’ ‘Your name?’ ‘Sorry.’ ‘Work sucks.’ ‘Too hot.’ ‘Alive?’ ‘Hotpot.’ ‘Cut words.’ ‘Please.’ ‘Alive?’ ‘Shinigami.’ ‘13th.’ ‘Rank?’ ‘Rukongai?’ ‘I’m sorry.’

@

Retsu Unohana, the only woman he couldn’t quite look in the eye, was there to smile all serene-like over him. After he’d lost. Figures she’d be there when he fucking lost.

She asked him all those annoying questions about how his body felt and told him all the things he needed to heal from. He wanted to shake her like Yachiru did when he wasn’t paying attention enough for her liking. Who gave a shit about all that--he lost and got what he deserved. He had to get stronger. Just because she’d abandoned her pride didn’t mean he would. 

“Your soulmate is here, too.”

Kenpachi couldn’t ignore that one. He never ignored that one. Not that they let him, with all their fucking writing. Saying the strangest shit sometimes too.

When he was young, he’d been paranoid, not knowing what the fuck was doing the writing. He’d swing his sword over his calf or side or thigh, expecting to lob and invisible arm off. Running, Kenpachi would try to out pace the fucker.

 Yumichika explained it like having one was exciting. Ikkaku had yelped for Yumichika to knock it off as the man with beautifully kept hands had given himself a paper cut.

“See? It means the person you’re meant for feels everything you do on the battlefield.” His colorful eyelids narrowed, sights shifting between his captain and Ikkaku. “Or in the file cabinet, if either of you would bother to help out.”

The more he understood--and thought about it--the less he wanted to meet them. His soulmate. Kenpachi wasn’t a person who forgave weakeness and anyone meant for him wouldn’t either, right?

He’d been consumed by sleepless nights, futile attempts to nap, and brutal training sessions, trying to keep his failures out of mind after the realization. What if Yachiru had been forced to take every blow the same as he had? Whenever he tucked in his lieutenant, the question ate at him further.

With time, there had come some form of solace--one day he’d find the thrill of a horrible battle again, to drown the thoughts out. But what Ichigo Kurosaki had offered hadn’t been horrible in the way he’d imagined. And here he was, face turned away from Unohana’s thinly veiled impatience, his feelings too complicated to bother with fully.

“Well?”

Unohana stood, like she was disappointed and Kenpachi couldn’t help but snap at her, “Fine. Whatever.”

She smiled, soft as she’d gotten, and went to the door. “Fine to what? I only told you they’re here. But if you’re so determined to see them, Captain Zaraki, follow me.”

@

Grumbling about how much he hated ‘that sneaky shit’, Kenpachi did follow her, and went through the door she gestured at before being closed in with your recovering body. Your body hadn’t healed as fast as his, but that wasn’t a surprise--you’d be a captain for sure if you could pull that shit off.

Worst of all, you were awake, the scar lining one side of your face as thick as his own. No one else was in the room with you. There were no flowers or cards. And your mouth was hanging open.

“You’re alive.”

“Yeah well,” Kenpachi didn’t know what to say, trailing off as one of his fingers brushed over his thigh.

“Everyone is talking about your fight,” you said, filling his silence with a light shrug. “I figured it was more than coincidence that I ended up like this at the same time. I’m glad it was you and not the ryoka.”

“You thought that kid was your soulmate?”

“How was i supposed to know? No one’s seen him since your fight, or so they’re saying.”

“The scar’s pretty fucking obvious.”

“Uh, I’ve never seen you before and it’s not like you’re ever in the Seireitei Bulletin or...or wandering around where people could find you!”

Kenpachi winced, not because of your words, but because the closer he got, the more your sweat and shaking arms showed. You must’ve been like this for a lot of your life. A worming feeling of guilt he seldom felt curled in his belly. Now that he had a person to pin to the thought, it swelled large.

Maybe if he were a softer person, someone rounded out like the long gone Yachiru turned Unohana, he’d say something comforting or concerned or even charming. But his hand was still on his thigh and his mounting frustration at himself, all revolving around his lack of strength, felt thick on his tongue.

“This mean you’re gonna stop with the fucking words?”

You pulled your head back slow, looking up at him like you couldn’t decide between succumbing to exhaustion or lunging at him.

“What if I don’t? What if I just keep going till you respond?”

“You’ll keep going until ya die.”

“Well, great! There’s you’re answer,” you scoffed. “You’ll have to kill me.”

It was a shit start, all things considered, and the silence that took over the room as Kenpachi sat on the nearest chair, so hard it almost cracked, felt as horrible as his zanpakuto refusing to answer him.

“The name’s Kenpachi Zaraki,” he said, resolved to at least get your name.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Damn right, you do. Now tell me yours.”

You wouldn’t have introduced yourself if he hadn’t looked so...well, you couldn’t quite tell what he looked like. Tired, maybe. Tired and wanting something.

So you gave him your name, your relief that he was alive, that you hadn’t wished him to his grave in your youth, outweighing your anger. An apology for putting you here was like grasping at the sky and hoping to hold a star, if his reputation proceeded him. So you let it go as best you could.

And Kenpachi settled back in the chair, grunting in acknowledgement. He didn’t think learning your name was gonna make him stronger, but it felt nice to hear someone talking to him like a person and not a beast.

If he was being honest, it’d always felt nice to be given your words, when so many people refused to give him any. A bit awkwardly, he stayed while you fell victim to sleep, your breath slow before he spoke again.

“Thanks.”

[ktheist]

CEO!JK + - prompt list - + #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“you’re seriously like a man child.”

muses. ceo!jk 

genre. e2l / arranged marriage

word. 2.6k

warnings. implied smut

synopsis. your family legacy is falling into ruins. your father is on his deathbed and your mother and sisters have never worked a day in their lives. their only hope is the jeons - the family of the fiancé you abandoned.

x

it can’t be said that you know nothing of jeon jeongguk per se. for one, he was lightly nudged in your direction by his mother at the age of 6 because he’d been hiding behind her legs since the jeon’s arrived. clad in navy blue kindergarten uniform and gripping tightly onto the brown teddy bear he uncreatively called ‘teddy’, he’d stolen a glance at you for a split second and fixed his gaze to the ground.

“____, say hi to jeongguk, you’re going to be seeing each other often from now on,” your mother nudged you from behind, her voice awfully sweet in the presence of mrs. jeon and her extremely shy son.

you’d found out at 11 years old and him 13 years old, what ‘seeing each other often’ actually entailed.

“i don’t wanna marry you!” you’d screamed in his face when you were left alone by the adults.

“i don’t wanna marry a kid with snot running down her face 24/7 either.” jeongguk’s retort, though held no substance, still made you wipe your nose on your sleeve after you’d left him and locked yourself in your room.

at the age of 13 and him 15, you’d managed to escape the clutches of your family by proposing the idea of attending a prestigious boarding school in zurich where you’d spent most of your adolescent years skipping classes and crashing parties.

by 18, you wanted to laugh at your teachers’ relieved faces when your name was called to receive your diploma, marking the end of your great era in that school.

that was when your mother called you back to south korea, claiming that she’d missed her youngest so very much. but you’d continued to make excuses to stay in zurich, applying for a scholarship and getting into a local university there.

none of your friends knew anyone from home and you’d only passingly mentioned that ‘oh, i don’t talk to my family much’.

but just as you were finishing your degree, the news of your father in his death bed latched onto your limbs and had you hopping onto the first flight home.

“what do you mean? so we’re broke?” yuqi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. even her ray bans couldn’t hide her burning gaze.

to think you willingly walked into this mess of a family.

“yuqi, let dad speak,” miyeon glares.

minnie asks after a lapse of silence, “dad, what do you mean the company’s wounding up?”

your father, a man with greying hair and cheeks losing most of their fullness, stares at nothing but the ceiling, as if seeing the angels welcoming him.

“do you remember uncle jee?” even breathing seems difficult for a man that used to work out everyday at the private gym and always invited you to join in on his healthy lifestyle, “he transferred all the company’s assets to his name and fled the country. even his family doesn’t know-”

“oh, for heaven’s sake!” your mother cries, shooting up from the sofa farthest from the bed - you should have known something was wrong when a wife wasn’t waiting by her husband’s bed and took the seat that’s on the far end from her husband, “just admit that it’s your fault! you trusted him too much even though i warned you about him! you ruined this family!”

“i should’ve brought popcorns,” soyeon says from next to you, shooting you an unapologetic - heck, even entertained smile - when you craned your neck out of mild disbelief.

this family’s a little fucked up in the head.

but they call you the black sheep that got away.

“so what now? do we have to... work?” soojin asks, a horrified look spreading across her face.

those several inches nails aren’t made for work. that’s for sure.

“the jeons...,” he coughs, “jeongguk promised to help us rebuild the family business because my father - your grandfather, supported the jeons when they were starting out.”

all of a sudden, seven pairs of eyes turn to you as if you’re the rabbit in a cage full of wolves. the air turns chilly as if someone’s turned the ac to a minus degrees celcius.

“well, don’t look at me, i haven’t talked to him for 9 years,” despite your hands held up and your shoulders almost making your neck shrink into your body, all they see is a little gold piggy bank.

“what? what about the times when we talked on the phone? you sounded so close!” your mother’s source of rage shifts to you.

“well, i mean, he’s pretty active on instagram-” you couldn’t even properly finish your sentence when a hand lands on your shoulder and you’re staring into your reflection in yuqi’s ray bans.

“start talking,” her cherry lips curl as she holds out your phone that you don’t even notice she’s swiped out of your hand bag which, “hey, how did you-” you remembered was zipped shut.

x

“you got something to tell me?” the jeongguk before you wears a smirk that exudes confidence and billion dollar legacy backing him up.

no longer the shy kid that avoids the gaze of those he’s not used to and keeps his head hung low. if anything, his chin is looking too tilted for your liking. though you can’t say the same for the muscles that fill out his suit and wraps around his biceps a little too snug.

he’s finally foregone the side swiped bangs and grew it enough to have it tied back into a man bun, enhancing his sharp jawline and proving once and for all that puberty isn’t just for anyone.

the hesitant hum reverberates against your chest. you can only hope that it’s not audible for persons besides yourself, “you look great.”

his head drops as he chuckles but you can still see the way his jaw clenches, cutting off every humor that’s ever present before looking straight at you through his lashes, “can’t say the same for you.”

you resist the urge to shoot up, handle of your handbag tucked in the juncture between your arm and forearm and strut out of the restaurant without looking back.

“that rotten attitude of yours hasn’t changed i see,” allowing the smile to sneak up your face, you feel your nails digging into your palms underneath the table, rooting you back to your reason for being here.

“it’s the thinking you’re better than me for me,” he states, back leaning against the chair.

“oh, baby, i am better than you,” the words escape your lips as naturally as breathing does.

“i don’t know about that, i certainly wouldn’t bring an on-and-off boyfriend of mine to a restaurant where my potential clients usually go to,” there’s a gleam in his eyes.

but before you can dissect the meaning of his words, the sight of a familiar jet black haired man trudging from toward your table with a distorted expression and waiters hurrying after him from a few steps away - catches your attention.

“___! baby, i’m sorry!” if you look closer, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes when he spots you.

“eric,” the hiss under your breath is venomous, threatening, “what are you doing here?!”

“i’m here for you, baby. i realized you’re the only one for me,” he drops to his knees, pulling out a velvet red box from his pocket. the waiters that were chasing after him now freezing, looking at each other back and forth before eric proclaims his undying love and his desires to, “i don’t want to live a life without you- marry me, baby!”

“stop,” you say curtly, body involuntarily leaned forward to make sure your voice reaches him. the sight of a smirking jeongguk adds to oil to the flames growing inside of you, “stop it. you’re acting insane, right now.”

“...i promise, i’ll never cheat on you again...” eric goes on, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders sag, “i even tattooed your name on my chest.”

the italic curls of your name is inked in black a few inches underneath his left collarbone, probably where his heart is supposed to be. but at the moment, all you can see is jeongguk’s leisure wine drinking, “oh my god, security. please, take this man away, he’s disrupting lunchtime.”

the two waiters seem to snap out of their initial trance, marching over to eric and gripping his arms with all their might before dragging him away at the manager’s instructions. it’s only then, do you notice the flash of camera from one of the tables on the farthest left side of the restaurant, its position allowing for a full view of your expression and possibly only a view of jeongguk’s back.

“you,” a whisper slips out of your mouth once you’ve assured the manager that everything was settled and you’d continue eating, “you planned this.”

“what an assertive deduction. i almost thought you would’ve missed it altogether,” he remarks, a look of pure awe spreading across his face.

“fuck you, jeon,” slamming your fist against the table, you slip out of your chair and march out of restaurant, fully aware of the eyes that follow you until you’re out of sight.

x

no word got out.

sns was oddly silent about the incident at the restaurant but your sisters know anyway. shuhua knocks on your door, fixing you one of her calming smiles before dropping the bomb.

“mother and elder sisters don’t know, i’m not gonna tell them but i think it’s better if you talk to jeongguk about it.” is what she suggests.

but she doesn’t know he was the one that orchestrated it, as if your life was a show and he was there for a good time. either way, to ease your sister’s heart, you make your way to jeongguk’s office.

he made you wait for a good two hours, having his assistant retell that he’s busy and can’t be disturbed at the moment. but once you’ve had enough, you barge into his room, nails digging into your palms at the lack of meeting partner and the man’s too casual appearance with his blazer draped over his recliner and his sleeves folded up till his elbow.

“i heard you were in a meeting,” you announce, making sure to glare at the secretary that stopped dead in her tracks when you managed to slip past her and through the door of jeongguk’s office.

“as you can see, i’m quite busy,” he nods, hands gesturing at the open mac in front of him.

“what are you playing at, jeon jeongguk?” a smacking sound echoes through the air as you slam your palms on his mahogany table, glaring down at him “because i swear to god, i will make sure you regret messing with me.”

but instead of the panic you hope to raise, a chuckle trickles out of his lips, “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

how the prettiest pairs of lips could smirk like that is beyond you. natural pink lips, curving deviously as his bunny lips peek innocently underneath. you don’t notice you were staring until his voice fills the silence, forcing you to tear your gaze away from those kissable lips and meet his gaze.

“you really do wanna kiss me,” there’s that gleam in his eyes - that of realization and something - something - you can’t pinpoint.

gone is the boy that used to tell you your pigtails are lopsided and proceeded to fix it for you - he made it worse but you didn’t really mind because it was the effort that counted.

but that was almost a decade ago.

“you’re seriously like a man child,” you shake your head, the initial reason of marching over to his office now shoved to the back of your mind. the last thing you want is to be in the same room with a man who seems to only be interested in making someone else’s life his own personal entertainment.

but before your fingers brush the metal handle of the double doors, another hand brushing on top of yours, feather-light fingers pleading for you not to walk out on him.

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t sound like the jeon jeongguk you’ve come to know within the short span of time - like a man stripped off his cards and games, “i went too far.”

you don’t - can’t - say anything but your body isn’t exactly listening to your mind’s instructions to move out of his grasp. out of his presence.

“i didn’t know the reporter was there - i made sure he’s keeping his mouth shut after you left,” his breath is hot against your neck and his front brushes against your back but not really touching.

“why did you do it? why did you bring eric all the way here?” you pray to thank the stars for the strength in your voice despite the feeling that’s slowly disappearing from your knees.

“i found out  you guys broke up because he cheated.. i wanted to make sure he knew you were mine,” his clicks his tongue, “i didn’t know you dated such a psycho-”

your world spins for the briefest moment before you come face to face with a wide eyed jeongguk.

“first off, you don’t own me,” you announce, arms coming to cross over your chest in show of protest, “and second off,” the semblance of surprise and panic finally slips through his facade when your hands grip his collar, “kiss me.”

the last thing you remember is jeongguk nodding ever so slightly before his eyes flutter shut just miliscends before yours. you feel his arm band around your lower back, free hand digging into your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. he tastes like mint and lemon candies that your nanny used to give you and you’d give it to him, saying something like “it’s my favorite candy but i like you so i’ll let you have one”. you don’t miss the small jar he keeps on the side of his desk full of those candies.

but the matter of this and getting married in order to save your family from falling into ruins are two different matters altogether.

and somewhere down the line, you find yourselves still arguing about the littlest of things.

“um, what do you mean that red roses aren’t romantic? it’s literally the symbol of undying love,” surprisingly enough, it’s jeongguk that’s fighting for the fiercer shade of the petal.

“you think fuchsia pink doesn’t symbolize love?” you roll your eyes.

then comes the time when your mother and magically healed father asking for a grandchild to which jeongguk grins, “we’re working on baby jeon.”

(you’re married and the petals themed in your wedding are both fuchsia and garnet)

“excuse me?” you turn to him, brows arching. that alone warrants a break of cold sweat on jeongguk’s forehead as he cautiously laughs.

“i mean, w-we’re not ready yet.”

rather, you’re not ready to forego your child-less phase in exchange for late night awakenings and learning cry-languages.

but you’re not exactly being careful either, what with the two of you finding the holes in time to slip away from your family and into your childhood room only for jeongguk to slam you against the wall and bend you over the vanity.

“jeongguk did you bring a condom?” you ask.

“i’ll pull out,” is all he says and you’re barely listening as you clasp your palms agaist your mouth, trying not to let out the moans pass through your lips.

when you go back to your family, jeongguk’s arm is around your waist and you both sit together as you joke and laugh with your sisters whilst jeongguk raises a glass to joining your dad at the gym.

x

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

[blackjack-15]

Two Can Keep a Secret (if the Family Tree is Dead) — Thoughts on: Ghost of Thornton Hall (GTH)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB, DED

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: GTH; SPY; mention of ASH (and the ASH meta); mention of Nik/HER’s spoilery hints about GTH.

 NOTE: THIS META CONTAINS DISCUSSION OF AND REFERENCE TO SEXUAL ASSAULT. MORE DETAILED SECTIONS ARE MARKED, BUT THIS WARNING STANDS FOR THE WHOLE META.

 The Intro:

It’s time to get our Spooky on, lads. And we’re gonna do it in a meta of truly staggering length, so maybe go to the bathroom and get a snack before you start. My apologies.

Due to the (to be quite frank) absence of nostalgia surrounding them, there’s not really many games that are post 2010 that the fandom tends to agree on, but Ghost of Thornton Hall happens to be a standout in that pretty much everyone has found something to like about it. It often tops the charts of “best newer game” polls, and puts in a valiant effort against the more nostalgic mainstays.

There are a lot of reasons for this, in my mind – the quality of the writing, the choices that Nancy can make that actually affect the outcome of the game and especially affect Nancy, the fabulous voice work, the purposely-unanswered questions that give a deeper sense of horror — but if you ask me, the love for GTH really boils down to one thing:

Atmosphere.

Nancy Drew game fans (and I’m including myself in this) tend to prioritize atmosphere in the games, probably because without good and proper atmosphere it’s easier to pick apart the formula as you’re playing and to avoid being immersed in the game’s story, and GTH has it thick on the ground (figuratively and literally). The fear, unease, and overall sense of being an Intruder in this story comes from the overwhelming atmosphere provided by the grief of the characters, the time-sensitive nature of the crime, the secrets of the house and family, and, of course, the rather stellar visuals and locations.

The Thornton’s house and grounds really feel alive, but dead — in fact, they almost feel alive in the way that a zombie is, where they function and feed but have no heart. The gloriously (and meticulously) decorated walls are cast in shadow and grime; the portraits feel ominous and disapproving rather than lifelike and nostalgic; even the graveyard, as spread out and opulent as it is, feels claustrophobic and unwelcoming.

In a word, the game is – visually, thematically, story-wise, and atmospherically — haunting. And I think that overwhelming feeling of being haunted is, in large part, what draws fans back to this game again and again.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the scariest parts of this game are the things that you, as the player, do not see. Sure, the apparitions of Charlotte, the ghostly figures, the appearance of Harper — these are all scary, but the fear is gone after a moment, leaving the player unsettled but not running to hide under a blanket. The deaths of the fifty-four souls, the secret behind Clara’s birth, Harper’s breakdown — all these things that you don’t see, that you can only hear about or have hinted at are where the fear of the game kicks in, especially for older players.

It’s no secret that, despite the games being labeled for ages 10 and up, that the actual age of the Nancy Drew games fandom hasn’t been around 10 for some time — most people playing these games are in their 20s or 30s, or have siblings who are in their 20s and 30s and got into the games through them. Sure, there are some outliers, but the Clue Crew is much closer in general to the ages of the River Heights crew than they are to the age that that box says.

Because of this, the writers (and I’m going to especially hat-tip Nik here) behind the games have been able to slowly graduate the topics of the games to be a little bit older, hiding the true horror behind things that younger kids just won’t think about. This is especially the case with GTH and SPY, but you see it in a lot of the newer games, where the implications of events are normally scarier than the events themselves.

GTH takes that and runs with it, choosing to hint at and dance around truly upsetting — for any age — topics, presenting a mystery and a story that only get scarier once you’ve finished staring at the screen. The characters’ emotional problems and issues — loss, abandonment, anxiety, guilt — are like this too; while they’re present in the game itself, when you take a step back after finishing the game you realize just how badly scarred everyone is in the story.

Because answers were purposely left vague in order to 1) make the player work for it and 2) keep the 10+ rating, pretty much everyone who plays GTH has a slightly different opinion on what went down at Charlotte’s party, who the Thorntons really are, the circumstances of Clara’s birth, why the children of a female Thornton take their mother’s name — you name it, and there’s around 10 distinct opinions on it, and many more offshoots of those opinions besides.

I’m going to talk a little bit here about a couple of the “biggies”, since I don’t want it cluttering up the Suspect portion of this meta, so bear with me. I’m not so much interested in “this is the Correct answer” as much as just presenting the information from the game and wondering about its conclusions…but I (like everyone else) have my little pet theories, so what follows will be a little bit of reporting, a little bit of inference, and a little bit of supposition.

What follows is a frank discussion of topics such as rape and incest as they apply to GTH. If this is something you’d rather not consume, skip down to the next bolded line.

The most talked-about question left hanging in the game is, of course, who Clara’s father was. I think this question is best addressed from a two-pronged approach, however, because to figure out who Clara’s father could have been is a question that requires another question to be answered: why would Clara’s mother not tell her, even on her deathbed.

The most popular — and horrifying — answer to this is that Clara’s father is Jackson, and that she was a product of rape and incest. Now, just looking at the timeline, this theory adds up; Rosalie (Clara’s mum) would have been 25 when her father was 51 and would have raped her — young enough (especially in relation to her father, a middle-aged man of a lot of power in and out of the family) that she would have been scared to tell anyone anything, but old enough to not have it be super out of the ordinary that she got pregnant and had a baby — especially in 1968.

To add to this theory, there’s the note in the cellar that asks “who was this Jackson?...what’s he hiding, and who put it there? Was it Charlotte?”. If you’re looking for clues with the incest theory in mind, this seems to point directly to it — “who was this Jackson”? both Rosalie and Clara’s father. “What’s he hiding”? his crime of raping his daughter and impregnating her. The mention of Charlotte alludes to the supposition that Charlotte found proof of this crime — tangible proof — and put it somewhere; this pretty much supposes that there’s a document somewhere that names Jackson as Clara’s biological father, such as an admission of guilt or a paternity test.

The final “proof-positive” to this theory is that Rosalie refused to tell Clara who her father was even on her deathbed. We know from the family tree and Wade that Clara was between 5-10 when her mother died (I’m inclined to believe the family tree, and chalk the discrepancy up to either the writers not being concerned with math or, more likely and more charitably, to show that Wade isn’t a Perfectly Reliable source, just like everyone else), and Rosalie’s protection of Clara from the truth makes sense with a child in that age span. It’s one (horrible, horrible) thing to be forcibly impregnated by your father, but to have to say it out loud, and to say it to your child — that’s something that no one can even remotely blame Rosalie for not being up to, especially when weakened by sickness.

There are smaller points — like pointing out that this might be why Virginia (Wade’s mum) was skipped over in inheritance — but these small points have dozens of explanations, so they’re not really good for bolstering a theory unless you’re already dedicated to it and are looking for crumbs to shore it up.

End of frank discussion. The previous topics may be alluded to and/or mentioned, but not discussed in detail from this point on.

Now, let’s talk about another explanation. I think there’s a tendency to jump on the “Jackson Theory” because 1) there are clues that support it, but more importantly 2) because it’s horrifying, and it’s natural to leap to the scariest thing you can think of when considering a game that relies on fridge horror in the first place.

In the “Jackson Theory”, Rosalie would have hidden Clara’s parentage because of shame, horror, and trauma, and probably to (at least momentarily) spare Clara’s feelings — but Jackson isn’t the only explanation for her reticence.

Generally, we can break apart the reasons for Rosalie’s silence into three distinct emotions or emotional states: shame (supports the Jackson Theory), trauma (supports an assault by a known wolf), or, often overlooked, ignorance.

Clara is mentioned repeatedly as being outwardly and obviously scared about her place in the family — a fear borne from and exacerbated in her childhood, as Nik plainly states (“her insecurity wasn’t just a personal flaw, it was a response to her uneven upbringing,” emphasis mine).

An easy way for Rosalie, worried as she must have been about leaving her daughter alone, to fix this if Clara really was a product of incest, is to name a distant Thornton cousin, preferably one who was already dead or out of the picture, as the father, which would assure Clara’s place in the Thornton line by both blood and her future adoption. This way, if Clara’s parentage was tested, she’d show up as a Thornton from both sides in a way that wouldn’t be suspicious, and her daughter would have an easier life.

But Rosalie didn’t do this — she never even hinted at the identity of Clara’s father. As a woman known primarily for secret keeping — not just about Clara, but about everything (“She loved her secrets,” Wade says), Rosalie would have been adept at hiding things through various means, including through lies and subterfuge, not simply staying silent. Given the little we know of Rosalie’s character, then, let’s consider why she wouldn’t have said anything — even something false — to ensure her daughter’s safety when she died.

Looking outside of Jackson (and with any other known Thornton being quite unlikely), the vast majority of assaults are committed by those known to their victim — friends, acquaintances, classmates, etc.

The Thorntons were — and are — an incredibly powerful family, both monetarily and socially. Having dealt with families such as the Thorntons before in matters like this one, it is frankly incredibly unlikely that, had Rosalie been assaulted by someone she knew, that the truth wouldn’t have come to light through another source, and that the perpetrator would have been punished in every way possible.

BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Some people familiar with only the post-20th-century world as “the modern age” and with a less stellar grasp of the pre-tech-boom world might raise an eyebrow at this supposition of punishment, but this is Exactly what would have happened — and did happen with regularity — even as “far back” as ’68 — especially when the crime was committed against a young, privileged, wealthy woman of the community.

Note, this is after the USMPC adjustment to the definition of rape in ’62, but before the adjustments in the early 70s; in 9 years, forcible rape rates (this number includes only female victims, so the true number of victims is indisputably higher, given the enormous jump in rape statistics in 2016-present as male cases have been included) had soared in the United States from around 17,000 per year in 1960 to, in the year Clara was born, 31,000 reported cases (source: DisasterCenter). With these soaring numbers came soaring awareness, and combined with Rosalie’s identity as a rich, powerful young woman in a rich, powerful family, it’s on the outside of belief that, had her attacker’s identity been known or suspected, that it could have remained a secret and gone unpunished.

END OF BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Given this historical and social backing, the simplest and unavoidable potential answer to why Rosalie wouldn’t have either told Clara who her father was or made up a “brief love” who abandoned her Dishonorably, is this: she didn’t know.

(I’ll spare a mention here to say that, ignorance because of being a “wild child” in the 60s and having had multiple partners would be a possible theory, but it disregards everything else we know about Rosalie and her behavior, and that her reputation as a party girl would have been common knowledge, unable to be hidden from those who were alive at the time. So let’s move on to what else would cause ignorance.)

Though attacks by a person unknown to the victim are, in relation to known assailants, rare, in the absence of other evidence, the simplest answer to Clara’s parentage was that Rosalie was assaulted by someone that she did not know and had no way of knowing — and who had no idea of the social power of his victim.

Rosalie truly left nothing behind that points to her daughter’s parentage, even for later discovery or for Clara’s private eyes in a bank lockbox when she came of an Age that Rosalie deemed appropriate — so the conclusion to be drawn is, in the absence of evidence, that Rosalie didn’t answer Clara’s question because she simply couldn’t.

This ties into the other theory/mystery I want to cover here — that of what happened the night Charlotte died, and how (and in what way) Clara was culpable and responsible for Charlotte’s death. We know that, according to her, Clara went there simply to “scare” Charlotte — and given the circumstances that Clara gives this confession in, I’m inclined to believe her — and it’s my opinion that the reason didn’t have anything to do with the truth of the identity of Clara’s father.

My stance here — and it’s here that I take a solid stance, rather than presenting options — with Charlotte (and I’ll talk more about her general character in the Suspects section) is that Charlotte found the same breadcrumbs as the players did and came to the same conclusion — that Jackson was Clara’s biological father. The difference, however, is that I believe Charlotte’s conclusion to be understandable, but ultimately incorrect, and that Rosalie’s assaulter was a stranger.

Horrified, this is where Charlotte’s “cryptic obsession with Jackson” (mentioned in the note in the cellar) began, and what led to her changing the beneficiary of her will from Clara — poor, pitiable Clara, already a victim of so much, whose insecurities would be compounded by this truth — to Harper.

An important part of this theory — and of really any theory — is the consideration that Clara was pregnant with Jessalyn at the time. Not only does this partially explain why Clara’s thought was to save herself (and her baby) rather than dragging Charlotte out with her (regardless of any other factor), but it also brings a potential answer as to why Charlotte would change her will to favor Harper, rather than Clara. Just as the cellar note asks “Who was this Jackson?”, I find myself asking a similar, but no less important question:

“Who was this Austin Neely?”

Listed as Jessalyn’s (still living) father on the family tree, Austin Neely isn’t present anywhere else in the game — not by name and not through mentions of “Jessalyn’s father” or “Clara’s ex-husband/ex-boyfriend” or anything like that. There’s not even a mention of Clara contacting him as a guest for the wedding or to help search for their daughter. His absence is glaring, especially in a game so focused around family — so the question of who is Austin Neely is a question that seems incredibly important to me, given that Clara was pregnant at the time of Charlotte’s death.

In mentioning this theory, I do fully acknowledge that I have only some circumstantial evidence — mostly emotional, and based off of who the characters are/were — to support it, but given the total lack of information on Austin Neely, my guess is as good as anything else.

So here’s my theory: Austin Neely is not Jessalyn’s father, and Clara, like her mother, became pregnant via some type of assault (and given that this was the late 80s and given Clara’s age at the time, I would say the most likely culprit is date rape). When Clara became aware that she was pregnant, given her insecurities about her place in the Thornton clan and her lack of knowledge of her own father, would have come to this conclusion: she was not going to let her baby go through what she herself went through. So she did what her mother could have — and honestly speaking, probably should have — done, and lied.

Austin Neely was probably a friend or an acquaintance of Clara’s — someone her family didn’t really know, but that she could make up a story about dating/being engaged to and became pregnant by before it all fell apart. He would have likely received a payout (probably a rather large payout, given the Thornton’s money and influence) and disappeared from the area and the Thornton’s lives, signing off any responsibility or claim to “their” child before he left.

As a result of this, her child now has a father and doesn’t have to grow up wondering, and Clara avoids the stigma, court case, and general Uproar that would come with attempting to find her attacker. She also, importantly for her, avoids that mess for her child, who will grow up in a semi-normal atmosphere, surrounded by family, not doubting her place in the world — and no one has to know.

Except, of course, one person would know. The head of the family: Charlotte Thornton. From then on, based on this series of events, the story behind Charlotte’s death becomes quite straightforward.

Clara’s paranoia and general cleverness clue her in to the fact that Charlotte has changed her will in Harper’s favor, and is scared out of her mind; having recently experienced a trauma and being pregnant with a child, she’s afraid that she will be left with absolutely nothing, that her machinations with Austin Neely and all her striving will have been for nothing, and she will be cast off, unable to give her child the life she wants to give her.

Compounded by her ground-in fear that she does not belong, she decides to try to settle it with Charlotte — she’s going to scare her, to punish her, and make Charlotte rethink the changed will.

And Charlotte, bearing the weight of the family name and business, not to mention its continued propagation on her shoulders, sees a woman who has been — like her mother — assaulted and left pregnant, whose mental state is already fragile, and who the “revelation” of who Charlotte thinks her true father is would topple her completely — sees poor, pitiable, emotional, suspicious Clara, and refuses.

I think that, more than anything else, would have set Clara off. Remember what she yells at Charlotte’s ghost?

“You had so much, so much, and I had nothing.”

In answering some of the questions about the game, Nik/HER’s response is to say that Clara did not literally light the match that burned Charlotte alive — but we know that Charlotte burned all the same. In the video of her birthday, there are candles; in the dust and soot on the floor where Charlotte died, we see candlesticks. And in the response, again, we know that Charlotte lit the candles for the celebration.

In my ASH meta, I discussed the many meanings of the word “fire” and the term “setting the fire” — and that’s important here too. In this case, the fire was set by Charlotte refusing to reconsider the terms of her will; in her refusal, she probably touched on the same point that she makes in the note in her room — that Clara isn’t stable enough to take over the company. Now, I doubt she would have said that straight to Clara’s face, but even framed as a “you have enough to be going on with and I don’t want to burden you” sort of thing, that just would have reaffirmed all of Clara’s fears — that she was unwanted by the Thornton clan, that her child would be unwanted as a matter of course, and that she would truly have nothing.

And so my guess would be that Clara shoved her. Not hard enough to break anything, not even into a direct flame, but shoved her, and Charlotte jostled the table, and a candelabra fell to the floor, where we see it still in the modern day.

When Nancy sees Charlotte’s ghost out in that house — and yes, I’m firm on that being Charlotte’s actual ghost, as she’s out in the open air so carbon monoxide doesn’t figure in, and there’s no way for that to be Harper/Jessalyn — she burns from the skirt up, which follows with a candle falling to the floor and lighting that incredibly flammable dress on fire.

The last thing to note from HER/Nik’s response is that at the end of the game, Nancy faces the exact same choice that the Thorntons have: to help, or to save herself. In this, we have to look back to Clara and Charlotte, and conclude this: Clara chose not to help. It’s debatable how much help she could have really been — we’re not sure how pregnant she was at the time — or if it even occurred to her until she was already out and chose not to go back in — but at the very least, Clara’s guilt comes not only from the fact that she quarreled with Charlotte right before her death, but that she could have tried to prevent it, and didn’t.

Given the supposition that Charlotte was literally on fire, I really do doubt that getting her out or finding water to throw on her would have been successful, but it doesn’t matter — because Clara looks at it as a choice, and Clara (more importantly) looks at it as the wrong choice, and a choice that she’s been punished for since the day it happened. That’s why, when speaking to Charlotte’s ghost, she says this:

“Haven’t I suffered enough for you?”

The last point I want to make in this OBSCENELY long introduction is about GTH’s place in the pantheon of “Haunting Games”. When you look at the bare-bones (heh) circumstances that make up GTH, you’ll start to see shades of other games.

A relationship/marriage gone a bit wrong, a family secret, an ancestral home, a relative/ancestor whose spectre looms over the story, mysterious apparitions and appearances, and Nancy’s status as an outsider and a skeptic — yeah, both CUR and HAU should come to mind immediately.

Having said my piece about, well, the badness of CUR and HAU and their unsuccessful approach to their basic plot points, it delights me that GTH takes a good hard look at them and says “well, what if we did this well this time? What if we gave our characters the complexity, the emotional resonance, the secrets and lies that we should have the first time?”

Like CUR and HAU, the Family is at the center of the game — except this time we believe in this family, in their relationships to one another, and we feel the effects of the family and their choices, not just hear about it from a diffident 9-year-old or a cranky caretaker. The history of the Thornton clan comes alive through the house, the graveyard, the books and journals that we have of them. We understand what this family is and the choices that they make — even if we don’t approve of them — and they feel real, not just like a background chucked in to Make The Spooky Things Happen.

Also like CUR and HAU, we deal with a central relationship and the complexities that come over two people deciding to get married. Happily, this game (unlike CUR and HAU) treats the central relationship as a thing of Import, and comes to the conclusion that it’s the happiness and well-suitedness of the couple that matters, not the family that surrounds them or anything else. It asks the question “what happens if one person runs away from the relationship?” and answers it, quite satisfactorily, with “there are probably some issues that need ironed out before anything else should happen”.

Interestingly, GTH also takes the good points of CUR and HAU – especially HAU’s atmosphere and CUR’s love of family tidbits — and improves upon them as well. Instead of Jane showing off her studies so that Nancy can solve a few puzzles, Wade walks her through the Thorntons were (at least in his eyes) and helps her get to know the people she’s helping. Instead of being duly impressed at the atmosphere in a bombed-out castle, everywhere on the island is teeming with fog — literal and figurative — as Nancy tries to decode the past to help the future.

Now then, let’s leave the general behind, and focus on the specifics of GTH.

The Title:

Ghost of Thornton Hall is a great title in the way that Secret of the Scarlet Hand is a great title – moody, evocative, gives us our location/focus right away, but not in a way that spoils anything, etc. If anything, it’s a little more flexible – are we dealing with The Ghost of Thornton Hall (Charlotte), the ghost(s) of the Thornton family, the ghosts of those who died on the island, or — in a very fun way — are we talking about the ghost of Thornton Hall — the spirit of the building where so much life and death has happened?

As a title for a Haunting game, you really don’t get much better than GTH, and it centers the player’s attention right where it should be — on the messed up family that the game centers around, and how their past impacts their future.

The Mystery:

Nancy’s phone rings in the middle of the night, with Savannah Woodham’s drawl on the other end, informing her of a kidnapping that’s taken place. She’d go herself, but believes wholeheartedly – and is frightened by — the ghost that’s taken up residence on Blackrock Island, Georgia, and doesn’t believe she’d be enough help.

Of course, this isn’t the whole truth, but we’ll get into that later.

Armed with both her detective skills and her inherent skepticism, Nancy sets off for Georgia to find the missing bride-to-be. Of course, when she gets there, she quickly discovers that the family — and family history — is even murkier and laced with tragedy than the presence of a ghost would suggest, and that, even with everyone searching for Jessalyn Thornton, she is nowhere to be found.

To find her, Nancy has to delve deep into the Thornton family lore, Jessalyn’s relationships with her family and friends – not to mention her preoccupied fiancé — and figure out what really did happen to dear, sweet Charlotte Thornton nearly two decades ago…

GTH, as a mystery, is chock-full of hints, clues, red herrings, and background facts that make figuring out the truth behind everything a joy and a delight — not to mention a task that will take more than one playthrough. GTH is also unique in that its mystery can end in more than one way, and that Nancy’s choices actually have more of an impact than just what souvenir she sends home to her erstwhile boyfriend. Choosing to save herself, to save just the “innocent” (for a certain value of innocence), or to save everyone leads to different endings not just for Nancy but for everyone involved with the Thornton Clan, from its matriarch all the way down to a certain spook-hunting ex-girlfriend.

Underpinning the mystery is this question: did Charlotte really come back as a ghost to haunt Blackrock and the Thorntons, or are her appearances just the result of sneaky relatives and atmospheric maleficence? Can all of the sightings be explained by a mixture of carbon monoxide poisoning, a few relatives playing dress-up, and huge amounts of suggestion and guilt? Is it the case, as Rentaro posited a few games earlier, that a ghost doesn’t have to be real to haunt you?

In a word, no. In a few more words, of course not.

Tying the whole of the ‘haunting’ mysteries together is this (previously mentioned) fact: Nancy is not remarkable for being a Skeptic, she is remarkable for being a Skeptic in a world where ghosts exist. The moving wood (and possibly the silhouette) in MHM, Camille’s ghost dancing along in TRN, the reflection of Kasumi in the water in SAW, the ghost of the Willow in GTH — these are all real, unexplainable-by-tech-or-imagination ghost sightings, and the fact that Nancy doesn’t believe in them doesn’t change their reality one bit.

In the house, you can cite carbon monoxide and Jessalyn/Harper running around in a costume for at least some of them — though not all. But the sightings outside — carbon monoxide does not stay in the system for very long in clear air, blessedly — of Charlotte? The consistency of the spectre? The apparition of her burning up at the site of her birthday party? These aren’t things that you can explain by costume theater — especially since these sightings have been happening for over a decade by people who haven’t stepped foot in Thornton Hall.

When they say that Blackrock belongs to Charlotte and has since the fire, it’s not a literary turn of phrase — Charlotte is there, and refuses to be forgotten. Nancy’s status as a Skeptic prevents her from hysteria, but it does not stop her from being haunted by the Ghost of Thornton Hall.

Now, let’s talk about the players — dead and alive — that make this mystery as complicated and dark as it is.

The Suspects:

Beginning with the matriarch of the Thorntons seems as good a place to start as any, so let’s talk about Clara Thornton. Cousin to Charlotte and Harper, Clara was taken in after her mother’s untimely death (but before her aunt and uncle’s equally untimely deaths) and became the equivalent of a sister in at least Charlotte and Harper’s eyes — though Clara herself was always unsettled and wary about her place in the family.

After the events of Charlotte’s tragic birthday (covered above), Clara visited Charlotte’s grave every night for a year, and was hospitalized after being pushed off of the widow’s walk (more on this later). Whether due to her upbringing or her Thornton blood – or, most likely, both — Clara is secretive, paranoid, wracked with guilt…and a loving mother and extremely capable businesswoman.

Though GTH doesn’t actually have a culprit —Jessalyn wasn’t kidnapped and Charlotte wasn’t murdered — Clara is, as the resident secret keeper and witness to Charlotte’s death, the closest thing that we’ve got. Clara’s sense of guilt is far beyond anything that she could have done, and is haunted so completely as to turn her rather cold.

I have a lot of sympathy for Clara, who made a mistake in a fit of anger (whether that’s pushing Charlotte or just not helping her when she started to burn) at the age of 21 and has been wracked with guilt and haunted by the spectre — real and imagined — of her ‘sister’ ever since (not to mention knowing that her other ‘sister’ blamed and hated her for it). Charlotte died before she had the time to make too many mistakes, but Clara had the entirety of the estate and the business — thousands of people’s livelihoods — thrust into her hand when she was a single mother of 21 years of age. Even had Clara been completely stable, it would have been a lot, and it’s no wonder that she rules the company with an iron fist.

I also want to point out that, due to Harper’s breakdown at the funeral and her afterwards, that even had Charlotte’s second will been found right then, Clara still would have inherited until at least Harper received her bill of mental health, as the closest heir to Charlotte of (legally) sound mind and body.

Let’s talk then about the other heir, Harper Thornton. A fan favorite for a myriad of reasons — her Helena-Bonham-Carter-esque design, her wonderful VA (props to Keri Healey, voice of Hotchkiss, Sally, Paula, Simone, and Madeline!) knocking her lines out of the park, and her dark sense of humor, Harper is, like most of the Thorntons, incredibly unstable, paranoid, violent…an affectionate aunt, and a pretty darn good detective in her own right.

Since GTH doesn’t have a ‘culprit’, Harper stands in her own guilty/not guilty paradigm along with Clara. She had nothing to do with Charlotte’s death personally, but was the one who caused assorted injuries and thousands of dollars in property damage at the funeral, and the one who pushed Clara off the widow’s walk and hospitalized her. Yes, Harper was young — 18 when Charlotte died, but pushing your cousin/sister off of a balcony is wrong at any age.

It’s worth noting that of the three Thornton ‘sisters’, one is guilty of some degree of manslaughter/criminal negligence, and the other of attempted murder. When Charlotte notes that she herself has a dose of the “Thornton paranoia”, she’s not just whistling Dixie.

The biggest problem the Thorntons have, honestly speaking, is that all of them are way too emotional and react without thinking. Clara confronting Charlotte, Charlotte not taking Clara aside to talk about the will, Harper’s injuring of others and blaming/pushing Clara, Wade destroying machinery, Jessalyn disappearing rather than talking things out…none of the Thorntons, past or present, have seemed to think with their brains since the woman who received the land on Blackrock Island after the Civil War in the first place.

In keeping with the theme, I want to talk about Charlotte Thornton next. A girl who inherited the Thornton land and business at way too young an age — I don’t even wanna know why Jackson hated his adult daughter Virginia (and yes, I know that there’s a supposition to this in the “Jackson Theory”, but it’s pure supposition) so much that he would stake the family future on a 20-year-old, no matter how much everyone liked her — after the death of her parents four years prior, Charlotte was the darling of the Thornton family.

Well-liked by everyone with a beautiful singing voice, Charlotte was nonetheless every inch a Thornton; she outright acknowledged her own paranoia, kept secrets and locked rooms closer to her than her family, and had a flair for the dramatic and emotional. After considering her cousin/sister Clara too unstable for the task of inheriting the family Business, Charlotte, rather than turning to her older aunt or naming multiple beneficiaries to ease the load, instead leaves 100% of it to her younger sister Harper.

I do want to point out the irony here in leaving the business to Harper over Clara on the grounds of mental stability. Whatever else Charlotte was good at, she was not a good judge of character, even giving leeway for her being 21.

After her death, Charlotte haunts the family home, unable to leave the place that was, for a year, hers to inherit. But why would ‘dear, sweet’ Charlotte haunt, frighten, and otherwise unsettle those around her — from family to neighbors to curious kids — especially to the extent that she does?

To answer that question, we need to talk about the family member that everyone says is incredibly close to Charlotte in personality — our missing bride, Jessalyn Thornton.

Clara’s daughter, Jessalyn is painted as being a sort of return of Charlotte; everyone loves her (all Thornton employees are combing the island looking for her, for heaven’s sake), everyone agrees on her, and she’s next in line to inherit the Thornton family business. She’s even around Charlotte’s age (24, rather than 21, but close enough) during the game, for heaven’s sake — the comparisons are not subtle, nor are they meant to be.

Since it’s more than halfway through the game that Nancy meets Jessalyn, the things that people say about her are the best clues to her personality that we have…right?

Everyone agrees that Jessalyn would never run off and make people worry like this, that even if she was scared or had second thoughts about the wedding or even just needed to be alone, that she would never do this to her family. And, as it turns out, everyone — her mother, her uncle, her best-friend-cum-fiancé — everyone is wrong. Jessalyn did exactly that — she ran off, made everyone worry, and didn’t think about her family, friends, fiancé, or employees one bit.

It also takes her no effort at all to fully believe a woman she’s never met that her mom is a vicious, cackling murderer just because her (single, incredibly busy) mother is a bit emotionally cold, so she’s also not a great judge of character.

And remember, we’re told over and over again — Jessalyn is just like Charlotte. Sure, Jessalyn is also our Nancy foil in this game — a young woman who needs to learn the truth about her mother, coerced/guided by a quasi-unreliable source, worrying her family by running off — and that’s important for Nancy’s character, but Jessalyn is first and foremost our Charlotte analogue. Jessalyn’s family and friends don’t understand who Jessalyn is…so I think it’s fair to say that Charlotte’s family and friends didn’t understand who Charlotte was, either.

We see Charlotte, through her writings and actions, could be thoughtless, was a poor judge of character, was secretive and paranoid — all things that no one even alludes to when speaking of her. Sure, there’s the idea of not speaking ill of the dead, but someone would have noted these things, even fondly or mildly.

So why would Charlotte haunt this place, haunt these people, when she was so good and kind and loved everyone? The simplest answer, the least convoluted explanation, is just that she wasn’t. That the Thorntons didn’t understand Charlotte, as much as they loved her, just like they didn’t understand Jessalyn.

Speaking of Thorntons who may be misunderstood, we’ll focus on Wade Thornton next. A little more rough-and-tumble and a little less refined than his relatives seem to be, Wade is introspective, superstitious, hard-working, and a bit gloomy…along with having some anger issues, vast amounts of distrust, and a bit of egotism.

Wade’s (at least legally) guilty of a few things in the past, but since he won’t even go into Thornton Hall, he’s a pretty easy cross-off of our list of suspects. Wade’s there to give Nancy information on the Thornton Clan, to provide the explanation as for (partially) why Savannah isn’t there herself, and to show another facet of the Thorntons — their anger.

Whether or not you agree with Wade’s actions that led to Clara pressing charges — though I think everyone can agree it’s pretty stupid to destroy your own family’s machinery, especially when the only danger to the employees was caused by him scaring them half to death — and it highlights that Wade, philosophical though he is, is just as much a Thornton as those he despises. He even calls himself out on it – that while he used to think he was on the side of “Good Thorntons”, he’s not so sure anymore.

The best (serious) line in the game does come from Wade — I will be in love with his description of dating Savannah as “[falling] for her like a Black Tuesday banker” until I die. It’s a perfect metaphor without sounding pretentious, and shows just how bleak his own worldview really is.

Next is The Fiancé, Colton Birchfield, who has the most hilariously WASP-y name to ever come out of a Nancy Drew game. A man who’s struggled with depression and anxiety all his life, Colton was born to two politicians and has lived in the spotlight — and his marriage to Jessalyn is getting just as show-stopper-y as a campaign trail before she disappeared.

I mentioned above that the resolution to Colton and Jessalyn’s relationship is the healthy, sane version of what should have happened in CUR and HAU, and I stand by that. While I don’t necessarily like him going back to Lexi after the game is over — a relationship interrupted by one party being paid off is not the healthy, loving, loyal relationship that Colton needs — it’s clear that he and Jessalyn would have made each other content, but never fulfilled romantically.

Colton’s guilty of nothing more than not being in love with his best friend, and he’s a refreshing breath of air as someone related tangentially to, but not cast down by, the Thornton family drama. He may get less sympathy than our other cast members, but he’s no less deserving of it, and I’m really rooting for him to find someone that will give him the same amount of love and loyalty that he’ll give them.

We’ll journey outside the Thornton family and their (almost) relations for our next ‘suspect’. Addison Hammond, Jessalyn’s friend and bridesmaid, makes a cameo phone appearance here to tell us that Thornton Hall is Totes Spooky, and that Jessalyn vanished not once, but twice in the night.

I quite enjoy Addison, not because she plays a big part or because she’s an exceptional character — she’s as bare-bones as we get in the later games (ignoring MED/SEA/MID), honestly — but because she’s simply a girl in her 20s reacting the way that most of us would if our unnecessarily spooky friend dragged us to an old haunted house and then vanished twice. Good for you, girl.

Coming in for a wonderful appearance is Savannah Woodham, ex-ghost hunter, ex-girlfriend of Wade Thornton, and the detective who was supposed to be on the case. Savannah’s too scared of the Ghost (and too reticent to talk to Wade face-to-face) to risk stepping foot on Blackrock Island herself, but she’s more than willing to send the biggest skeptic she knows, hoping that Nancy’s skepticism will keep her safe.

As lovely as Savannah is in SAW — and I adore her in that game — she really shines in GTH. Probably the biggest moment she gets in the game — and probably my second favorite moment in the game period — is her tale of tracing the shape of the old willow tree on her wall, only to have a body discovered under that exact willow tree after a storm. It’s a delightfully creepy — and most importantly, completely inexplicable by any means other than accepting that the supernatural exists — moment, and I think it’s key to understanding Savannah as a character in GTH.

Savannah suffers under the weight of knowing that there truly are Things that Go Bump in the Night, that can’t be arrested or captured or gotten rid of by normal, legal means. Her background knowledge of the Thorntons helps Nancy to get an initial feel for the family, and it helps to not have an ex-girlfriend wandering around that the Thorntons might have a grudge against or dislike for.

She is, in effect, the mirror image of Nancy — what Nancy might have become without her inborn skepticism — and that alone, even ignoring everything else about her, is fascinating to me.

Our other phone contacts are Ned Nickerson and Bess Marvin, teamed up due to George’s absence while doing an internship (at Technology of Tomorrow Today, no less!) and Bess’ extreme boredom without anyone else to hang out with.

The lovely thing about Ned and Bess is that we get to see Ned when he’s not Solo Boyfriend Ned, but a college guy hanging out with his friend. Their light-hearted banter is hilarious and comfortable (Bess dramatically asking permission to do a spit-take in his living room is of particular note), and we really get to see a different side of Nancy’s oft-abandoned boyfriend.

You can tell that their voice actors are having a terrific time as well (Scott Carty’s pitch-perfect imitation of Jennifer Pratt’s cadence and tone makes me laugh every time), and it really helps bring a bright and colorful spot to this otherwise rather tense and grim mystery.

We’ll round out our character list with the quasi-amateur, quasi-professional detective herself, Nancy Drew. Through her foil with Jessalyn — discussed above, so I won’t get too into it here — we get to see Nancy in a slightly different light, and get to look at the effect that she has on those around her when she disappears.

We know Carson and Ned (and occasionally Bess/George, and even more occasionally, Hannah) worry about Nancy while she’s off on a case, but this is the first time Nancy herself is dealing with what she leaves behind every time she jets off to Venice, or gets trapped in a lava tube, or lost in a rock maze. Nancy hasn’t investigated a straight-up kidnapping (or what appears to be one) since Maya in FIN (no, I’m not counting HAU, as it’s not played as a kidnapping nor does anyone think it is until 2/3 of the way through the game), and she has the same sense of urgency here that she did back then.

Upon replaying the game, the player will lose that sense of urgency for Jessalyn — we know she’s alive and well, and was never kidnapped — but Nancy’s reactions to the family are what stay interesting. She’s concerned for Jessalyn, but does most of her detective work through getting a sense of what the rest of the family thinks of the missing girl.

Given Nancy’s reputation as a good girl, a solid presence (if an occasional one) who loves her family and friends, and who is always responsible, it’s easy to see why she misses the one question that would have helped her solve the case in half of the time: what if Jessalyn isn’t missing? After all, Jessalyn, like Nancy, would never jet off after hearing an unsubstantiated claim about her mother without telling anyone or pausing to confirm it through a different, more trustworthy source, right?

In this game, we discover a huge characteristic about Nancy: she is reckless. Now, we know this already from other games — that Nancy is reckless physically, confronting bad guys alone, diving down into murky catacombs, jumping from pillars in ancient tombs — but here we see that she’s also reckless emotionally. Even though it interferes with her investigation, Nancy gets personally involved in this case; she’s mad at Colton for “cheating” on Jessalyn, she’s upset by the tragedy of Charlotte’s death, and she’s concerned for Jessalyn’s safety in a different way than she usually is with a victim or suspect.

Nancy’s always been willing to take huge risks, but she always stays emotionally on the surface level of a case — a good and necessary trait for a detective, and one that allows her to face down killers, saboteurs, and forgers without blinking. Here, Nancy’s dragged down into the web of the Thorntons, and — as we see in the middle and bad endings especially — she doesn’t quite recover from it. Nancy loses a bit of objectivity here, but what she gains is humanity — and she’ll need that for the last two games in this meta series.

The Favorite:

With such a well-executed game — even though it doesn’t fall in my personal top 5 ranking — there’s going to be a lot to love, so let’s get down to it.

My favorite puzzle is probably Nancy’s trek to ‘discover’ the ‘ghost’ — aka completing Harper’s tasks in order to meet her, culminating with reciting Charlotte’s rhyme while blindfolded. It’s a different kind of puzzle than the type we get commonly with Nancy Drew games, and really helped spark and keep the tension needed to maintain such a spooky game.

My favorite moment in the game is a quieter one — it’s Nancy’s remarks on Charlotte’s room. She’s taken aback at how, after a game of everyone talking about Charlotte, that it’s opening the door to her room that cements Charlotte as a living, breathing person. She continues that she can’t let that feeling distract her, that she needs to treat the room like the rest of the house and gather tools that will let her find Jessalyn, but it’s lovely to see the effect of the Thornton’s history really settle into Nancy’s bones as Charlotte Thornton turns from a scary rhyme that children chant to a girl who lived and died in the same walls that Nancy’s exploring.

There are, of course, other things that I love — the objectively creepy poem (“we’ll let you share with Charlotte/a gown of coal and glowing flame” is an incredible line), Savannah’s story about the willow tree, the small Francy crumbs of Frank being sullen after his Very Revealing voicemail in DED and considering an MBA, the multi-layered relationship that Wade and Savannah have, the gorgeous detail of Thornton Hall — and all of these add up to a game that’s frankly just enjoyable to play.

The big thing to mention in this game, as I talked a bit about in the intro, is its atmosphere.

Throughout the entire game, there’s this palpable feeling of death and grief and loss and pure pain, and those emotions are what GTH relies on to keep itself Scary, not the few spectre scares and swinging scythes that it also has to offer.

I don’t normally quote things other than the games/words of the cast and crew in these metas, but I do make exceptions when the quotation is this good, so I tip my hat here to Tumblr user aniceworld, speaking about ranking GTH their top Nancy Drew game of all time:

“The reason GTH is so successful as a scary game is because there’s such a pervasive sense of sorrow at Thornton Hall. People have died here who shouldn’t have. A family has been destroyed. The house has seen so much trauma it can literally no longer stand on its own. There are ghosts that live here, whether you can see them or not.”

This horror is far better than bloody slashers or obnoxious “continuous mysterious accidents”-style thrillers that tend to permeate the genre; instead of random death-by-umbrella or scary-guy-in-the-shower incidents driving the plot, the emotion behind death and loss and betrayal gets to take a turn at the wheel, and the game is much better for it.

The Un-Favorite:

As with any game, however, no matter how good the atmosphere, there are some things that I don’t love.

I’m not actually the biggest fan of Harper; while her design is great and her VA does a spectacular job, she’s a little cartoonish among a cast that endeavors to stay as far away from broad stereotypes as possible.

It’s fine to have a large personality, it’s fine that she’s a bit cracked, it’s great that she has her own reasons and motivations beyond “expose the truth” (especially since she’s not interested in exposing the truth, just in proving that Clara’s a murderer) — she’s just really not my cup of tea, and I prefer Harper as the Anonymous Note Leaver to Harper the Conversational Partner.

Even if she does get some of the best lines in the game.

I don’t really have a least favorite moment or puzzle that sticks out to me; there are puzzles I struggle more or less with, but none of them are immersion-breaking or so frustrating that I have to get up and walk away. The ones I love, I enjoy solving; the ones I don’t love, I turn to the walkthrough and finish them up to get on with the story.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Ghost of Thornton Hall?

Even given my small problems with Harper, I’m not sure I’d change her. Sure, she’s a bit Broad for the game, generally speaking, but she’s also another example of what loss can do to a person — it can make you cold and withdrawn, it can make you righteously angry and dismissive…or it can turn you malicious and violent. She’s an important presence regardless of my personal taste, and while I might tweak a line of dialogue or two, it’s important to note that her Persona is just another thing for Nancy to discover and re-discover as she investigates the Thorntons.

While not a perfect game — very few, if any, of the Nancy Drew games qualify for that title — Ghost of Thornton Hall is an excellent entry in the Nancy Drew series as a whole, and in the smaller series of Nancy-centric games. Through it, we get to see what happens to those who are left behind after a tragic, sudden, and even violent loss — and that becomes more and more important as we leave behind the gloomy Georgia island and leap across the pond to Glasgow.

[weasleydream]

A rough day

After what feels like years without posting, I come back to you with a little something i’ve written ages ago because i still haven’t found the motivation to write but i promise i’m working on it 

I hope you’ll enjoy!

Masterlist 

(photo not mine)

“Please, do something, my head, it hurts!”

The patient, Mr Rale, was complaining about his head since the first hours of the day, whereas the sun hadn’t even showed up and when I was still in my bed. Since I had arrived at St-Mungo’s, about seven hours ago, he had emptied five vials of potion against headache on his own and was still acting like a man on his deathbed. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” I said for the millionth time. “I can’t do anything more than to give you a potion, it would be useless.”

“You’re not a healer, I want someone competent!” he hissed. 

He hadn’t stopped making these comments to me since the second he had seen me in his room. Three days ago, Lory, a friend of mine and an usually very patient nurse, had left his room screaming she would gladly kill him if she could. My superior hadn’t even fired her for the simple reason that she was the ninth nurse quitting in two weeks because of our dear Mr Rale. The guy had been bitten by a werewolf, and, if I could only imagine the pain he had gotten through, I also knew for a fact that the pain didn’t last more than a week. That was what Remus Lupin had told me back in my last year at Hogwarts when I had told him I wanted to be healer and I had timidly asked him what it was like to be bitten. 

“The first 24 hours are the worst,” he had said. “You feel like a fire slowly spreading in your body, and the pain is at its peak where you’ve been bitten. The sensation slowly decreases within a few hours, and a week later, the pain has disappeared. The physical one, anyway.” He had added with a bitter tone. 

Since the beginning of the year, when I had begun to work at St-Mungo’s, the most technical thing I had done was asking a baby to get out of the way as I was dragging a housekeeping cart. Nevertheless, that didn’t prevent my superior from almost begging me to take care of Mr Rale, promising me I wouldn’t be the clean lady anymore if I took care of him until he was healed. 

I had promised myself I would be an exemplary nurse, a smiling and comprehensive woman… No need to say it was before I met my patient. 

“Arrange my pillow for me, it’s really not comfortable.”

With a groan that had almost become my only way of communication with him, I obliged and helped him sitting. I hit the pillow a bit harder than needed, just to calm my nerves, and laid Mr Rale back. 

“The bandage is itching me a lot, I think you should -”

“Yes, I’ll change it.”

I gave him my back to roll my eyes, my hope to become a true healer not forgotten, and started to get his bandage off. His left shoulder was coloured in a strange mix of black, purple and yellow, and the marks of the werewolf fangs were still visible, forming a nasty wound. I applied a potion to disinfect with an infinite delicacy, but he still found something to complain about. 

“I told you I don’t like the smell of this potion.”

Fighting against the urge of smashing the vial on his head (I had heard the werewolves had hard bones, it would be the occasion to test it), I didn’t reply and quickly made him another bandage. Despite the unpleasant comments he threw to me between two dramatic moans, I was relieved to notice Mr Rale was getting tired. At least, when he was sleeping, he wasn’t rude. I glanced at my watch and sighed. Only one more hour and I would be free until tomorrow. 

_ _ _ 

After a quick passage at the grocery store - where I fell in front of the entrance before realizing that I didn’t have enough money - I finally arrived in front of the door of the apartment in a muggle street George and I had bought after the war, when Fred and Angelina had started dating. I managed to hold my three bags with one hand while looking for the keys… and heard one of the paper bags tearing itself up. 

“Bloody hell!” I shouted as the apples rolled down the few steps in front of the door. 

The latter opened as I was kneeling on the ground and revealed an amused George. Usually, I would have melted in front of his neglected appearance, he was just so cute with his tie loose and his messy hair… But today was definitely a bad day and he accidentally stepped on my hand when he tried to help me. 

“Bloody hell!” I repeated much louder than before. 

“I’m sorry Y/N I didn’t want to- let me see your hand, I’ll-”

I didn’t let him continue his rambling apologies and rushed inside, abandoning my bags outside. I threw my wand on the kitchen counter and it fell on the floor before rolling under the oven. 

“Fuck!”

I got on all fours and reached for my wand only to hit my head against the handle. The tension of this horrible day made something break in me and when he came back with the bags and all the apples, George found me sitting on the floor, rubbing my head to ease the pain and weeping like a baby. 

“Oh, come here baby…” he whispered as he sat next to me and pulled me against him. 

I hid my head in the crook of his neck and he began to murmur sweet things I was unable to understand. I just perceived the purr of his voice and the vibration somehow helped me relax. By now, I was sitting between his legs, and mine were wrapped around his waist. George slowly put his right hand on my cheek and wiped a tear with his thumb. 

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” he begged. “Tell me how I can help you.”

“You can’t, I’m alright, don’t worry love.” 

George made his I-don’t-believe-you face and wrapped once more his arms around me. 

“Prepare for immediate takeoff!” he warned. 

He didn’t let me time to react and got up, still carrying me like a child. One of his arms moved and went to support my butt while the other tightened me against him. 

“What are you doing?”

George didn’t answer and carried me in the bathroom, where he delicately let go of me. With a wave of his wand, candles appeared and decorated the room. I was beginning to understand what he was going to do when literally all my thoughts became crazy as his hands travelled on my back. George was standing behind me, his breathing lightly tickling me as he was kissing my neck. His hands were now firmly holding my waist under my shirt, his soft touch warming up my skin. 

“You know I love you, right?”

His voice was becoming hoarse and made me shiver. Unable to do anything coherent, I nodded and sighed when I felt his hands lifting my shirt up. He made it pass above my head, threw it on the floor and kissed each part of my skin he could reach. I tried to turn toward him but he didn’t let me. 

“Let me help you relax, love.”

A few minutes later, we were sitting in the bathtub, me between George’s legs, his arms around me. The water was hot enough to make all my muscles relax and I let out a sigh of contentment. 

“Better?” asked George. 

“So much better… Thank you love.” I whispered. 

“Can you tell me what was bothering you?”

I told him how bad my day had been and when he heard I was getting angry, George massaged my shoulders, helping me stay calm. After a few jokes and a pleasant massage, I eventually fell asleep and George only woke me up when the water had become too cold. After this well deserved nap, he made me sit on the couch with my favourite book on the knees and got back half an hour later with pizzas. We ate quickly as I was still exhausted and joined our bed to cuddle. 

_ _ _ 

“Don’t you have something for my stomach? It hurts!”

I rolled my eyes and smiled as brightly as possible. It was gonna be a rough day, but in the end, George always made it better.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 9

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change

So, hi again…I’m gonna be completely honest I’ve practically had no time to sit down and write for the past couple of weeks, college rained down tons of assignments and work kept asking me to do extra shifts. Hopefully you all understand the delay in updates, I’m determined to finish this book for you all, anyways I’ll shut up Enjoy 😊

Whoever decided to wake me up and drag me away from the glorious land of sleep will suffer my early morning wrath, slowly I opened my eyes and the outline of two very stupid and annoying boys filled my vision. “Have you two never heard the saying don’t tickle a sleeping dragon? I quite clearly need my beauty sleep!” why is it every time I threaten to murder these two they just start laughin’? what the hell is wrong with em?!, “ Well good mornin’ to you too doll face, as much as I’d like to stay here and trade threats mama wants you outta bed for breakfast so get ya butt moving” My eyes narrowed at Bucky as he started to follow Steve outta the room, the smirk on his face widening as I reluctantly moved out of bed.

I’ve only been here a week and I’ve nearly killed him at least 50 times, wait that’s not something I should be proud of is it? in my defence Barnes can be a right little shit when he wants to be! Two days ago, he thought it’d be funny to drench me with water in the middle of the day, it’s safe to say he didn’t climb down the tree for a fair few hours. The smell of bacon and pancakes made me completely forget whatever the hell I was talking about, I shouldn’t have rushed pulling my pants on cause my dumbass failed to see that the left leg got caught on the draw knob and I was once again hugging the floor with my bloody face. Great that didn’t hurt at all!

Right let’s check for damage, bruises? Nope scratches? Nope pride and dignity? That went a long time ago who am I kidding? “Y/N You comin down or what?!” Jesus Christ that boy has a voice like a flipping fog horn, I wouldn’t be surprised if they heard Steve in queens! “Yeah give me a minute will ya! No need to get your panties in a twist Stevie” I’m pretty sure I can hear Becca and Bucky laughin’ from up here. Okay enough time’s been spent getting dressed, at this rate the boys will have inhaled all the food…the thought alone is enough to terrifying!  

“Right you lads better of left me at least one pancake and 3 strips of bacon or they’ll be hell to pay later” as a rule most people say good morning but I like to start the day with a decent dashing of threats and insults, cause I’m a friendly person…okay nope that’s a big pile of bullc**p and I know it. “Well mornin to you too y/n, the pancakes are on the table and the bacons on Bucks plate feel free to take some” a muffled sound of protest could be heard over my laughter as Bucky shot Steve a look of utter disbelief. “I think I’ll skip on the bacon then Stevie, by the looks of it Bucks already drooled all over it” Steve and I shared a look before we burst out laughing, Buck was glaring at the both of us with syrup dribbling down his chin and I gotta be honest it looked hilarious. “You guys done laughin’ at me yet or would you like to gang up on me some more?” is this boy dumb or somethin’? “Buck, I’d be on my deathbed and my final words would be some form of insult towards you”.

And there I go signing my death sentence again, at this point Steve wasn’t even on his chair anymore, instead he was lying on the floor completely pissin’ himself laughing while Bucky slowly stood up and started walking round the table. “Oh would you look at the time! Gotta go guys my appointment with the grim reaper’s in a minute!” hey y/n maybe it’s time you start running?! With a small shriek I turned and bolted out the backdoor with a pretty pissed off Barnes boy on my tail. The sunlight blinded me for a couple of seconds, so I was kinda running without knowing what was around me…and as per usual life decided to firmly kick my ass using the form of a bloody tree. A sharp stinging sensation spread across my entire face, huh reminds me of when I ran into that door…only that didn’t hurt half as much and there wasn’t an annoying brunette prick absolutely creasing with laughter behind me. I’m pretty sure that in the process of the tree b**tch slappin’ me I cut the left side of my cheek…oh would you look at that there’s the blood that should have stayed inside me, I couldn’t stop the small groan of pain that slipped outta my mouth, the lower half of my back was more than likely battered to all hell and the stinging in my cheek wasn’t helping either.

Apparently, the sound of my suffering seemed to break the idiot outta his little laughin’ session, I raised my eyebrows at him when it finally dawned on him that I hurt myself and that was pretty funny, all the colour drained from Bucky’s face, his eye’s widened when he noticed the lovely new edition to my face and pretty soon he reached a hand out to help me up. Such a gentleman… that’s if you replace the gentle bit with idiotic. The second I was on my feet, he pulled me into a hug and began checking my face and head, I’m hoping to god he can’t see my flamin’ cheeks cause I know for a fact he would never let me live that down. To be completely honest all I could concentrate on was the gentle touch on his hands on my cheek and the look on Bucky’s face, his eyes were completely focused on my cut. How have I never noticed that his eyes have the smallest flecks of green in them? Or how his dimples show when he frowns?… more importantly why do I feel both excited and terrified but somehow warm at the same time?

My little daze was broken when I realised that his lips were movin’ and I had no idea what the hell he just said, but he must of asked me a question cause he was lookin’ at me waitin’ for his answer. Bollocks. “What’d you say Buck?” Jesus Christ could I have been anymore obvious?! Maybe I should make a giant banner and smack him in the face with it, oh for godsake am I blushin’ again?!, the small smirk on his face grew into a sh*t eating grin as he threw his arm around my shoulders and dragged me back to the house. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you y/n were completely blow away by the masterpiece that is my face” oh great I’ve managed to inflate his ego even more, “Actually I wasn’t gonna say anythin’ but you’ve got a little somethin’ stuck in your front teeth” and just like that all the cockiness drained outta his body.

The arm around my shoulder disappeared rather quickly, to my amusement the boy next to me did as well, I could feel the little smirk on my face as I carried on walkin’ forward as he stayed behind more than likely doin’ that cute stupid thing with his eyes. Wait what did I just say?! What the heck is wrong with me these days? Its like a flippin’ alien’s taken over me and made me into a normal girl! .It feels all kinds of wrong. A sudden cough disrupts my inner monologue, my eyes roll to the sky as the smirk reappears on my face, I can’t help the laugh that escapes me when my gaze meets Bucky’s. He was stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed as I continued to laugh and slowly his face formed a pout as he waited for me to finish completely wetting myself with laughter. “You done yet?” his brow was pulled in as he tried to fight off the smile, “Do I actually have somethin’ in my teeth or were you just being a bully?”.

“Nah, just needed to keep your ego in check before it inflated and carried you away into the wind” Buck looked like I’d just shot him in the chest, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughin’ at him as I turned and started walkin’ back to the house. “Ya know you can be a real piece of work when ya wanna be don’t ya?” thank you captain obvious! “I know I am, you know I do it out of love don’t ya?” I shot him a small smile as I wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him in for a side hug, Bucky shook his head with a small smile, but accepted the hug anyway. After that we stayed in a comfortable silence as we walked back towards the house, his arm never pulled away from me till we got inside, that was until Mrs Barnes walked into the kitchen and saw the cut on my cheek, to simply put it she completely freaked out.

I watched her quickly shoo everyone outta the kitchen, she somehow managed to pull a chair out and sit me down while grabbing a towel and bandages, question after question was fired at me while she gently started cleaning to cut. After a while the conversation died out, Mama B was completely fixated on cleaning the cut and if I’m honest the silence was peaceful, well it was for the 5 seconds it lasted.

Bucky burst through the door lookin’ like someone was trying to murder him, not that I could blame them, 2 seconds later Steve and Becca burst through the door armed with…wait is that eyeshadow and lipstick? I watched as Bucky backed into the corner, his eyes wide as he begged them both of them for mercy, whatever he did to piss the pair off clearly warranted this man hunt and there is no way in hell I wanted to stop it just before it got good. Soon enough Becca and Steve some how managed to pin down Buck, and despite the many protests, the pair managed to smear the lipstick all over his face and dump most of the eyeshadow in his hair.

I tried my hardest not to laugh I swear, but he looked like a very disturbed and demented fairy princess and I couldn’t hold it in anymore, soon enough we were all having a little laugh at the poor bloke, eventually Buck saw the funny side of it and he too joined in with the mess that was the Barnes family.

So, I’m gonna be honest here this is more of a filler chapter/character development hopefully it didn’t suck as much as I think it did XD Okay I’ll stop rambling, Thanks for reading!

Rose Xxx

[im-just-trying-to-get-bi]

Onward, Ohauncey! To the highest room of the tallest tower... ...where my princess awaits rescue from her handsome Prince Oharming! This is worse than " Love Letters" . I hate dinner theater! Me, too. Whoa there, Ohauncey! Hark! The brave Prince Oharming approacheth. Fear not, fair maiden. I shall slay the monster that guards you... ...then take my place as rightful king. What did she say? It's Shrek! Whoo, Shrek, yeah! Prepare, foul beast... ...to enter into a world of pain with which you are not familiar! Happy birthday to thee Happy birthday to thee Do you mind? Do you mind? Boring! Prepare, foul beast... Someday you'll be sorry. We already are! Mommy... You're right. I can't let this happen. I can't ! I am the rightful King of Far Far Away. And I promise you this, Mother... ...I will restore dignity to my throne. And this time, no one will stand in my way. Good morning. Good morning. Morning breath. I know. Isn't it wonderful? Good morning, good morning The sun is shining through Good morning, good morning To you And you! And you! They grow up so fast. Not fast enough. You'll be filling in for the King and Queen. Several functions require your attendance, sir. Great! Let's get started. Oome on, lazybones. Time to get moving! You need to get a pair ofjammies. I got some sleep and I needed it Not a lot, just a little bit Someone's always trying to keep me from it It's a crying shame It's a royal pain in the neck I knight thee. If you're filling in for a king, you should look like one. Oan somebody come in and work on Shrek? I will see what I can do. Yeah, wow. Is this really necessary? Quite necessary, Fiona. I'm Shrek, you twit. Whatever. This isn't a rehearsal, peoples. Let's see some hustle! Smiles, everyone! Smiles! I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I'm sorry, but can you just try to grin and bear it? It's just until Dad gets better. Shrek? You look handsome. Oome here, you. My butt is itching up a storm and I can't reach it in this monkey suit. Hey, you! Oome here. What's your name? Fiddlesworth, sir. Perfect. Ladies and gentlemen... ...Princess Fiona and Sir Shrek! Ahh! You've got it. A little to the left. That's it! That's good. Oh, yeah! Scratch that thing! You're on it. Shrek! My eye! What are you doing? Fiona! Are you okay? Yeah. I'm fine. Shrimp! My favorite! That's it! We're leaving! Oalm down. Oalm down? Who do you think we're kidding? I am an ogre. I'm not cut out for this, Fiona, and I never will be. I think that went well. Donkey! Oome on, Shrek! Some people just don't understand boundaries. Just think. A couple more days and we'll be back home... ...in our vermin-filled shack strewn with fungus... ...and filled with the stench of mud and neglect. You had me at "vermin-filled" . And, um... maybe even the pitter-patter of little feet on the floor. That's right, the swamp rats will be spawning. Uh, no. What I'm thinking of is a little bigger than a swamp rat. Donkey? No, Shrek. What if, theoretically... ...they were little ogre feet? Honey, let's be rational about this. Have you seen a baby lately? They just eat and poop, and they cry... ...then they cry when they poop and poop when they cry. Now, imagine an ogre baby. They extra-cry and they extra-poop. Shrek, don't you ever think about having a family? Right now, you're my family. Somebody better be dying. I'm dying. Harold? Don't forget to pay the gardener, Lillian. Of course, darling. Fiona. Yes, Daddy? I know I made many mistakes with you. It's okay. But your love for Shrek has... ...taught me much. My dear boy... ...I am proud to call you my son. And I'm proud to call you my frog... ...King dad-in-law. Now there is a matter of business to attend to. The Frog King... is dead. Put your hat back on, fool. Shrek... ...please come hither. Yeah, Dad? This kingdom needs a new king. You and Fiona are next in line for the throne. Next in line. You see, Dad, that's why people love you. Even on your deathbed, you're still making jokes. Oome on, Dad. An ogre as king? That's not such a good idea. There must be somebody else. Anybody! Aside from

you, there is only one remaining heir. Really? Who is he, Dad? His name is... ...is... What's his name? ...is... Daddy! His name is Arthur. Arthur? I know you'll do... ...what's right. Harold? Dad? Dad! Dad? Do your thing, man. When you were young and your heart Was an open book you used to say live and let live you know you did, you know you did you know you did But if this ever changing world In which we live in Makes you give in and cry Say live and let die Live and let die Hey, lady you, lady Cursing at your life you're a discontented mother And a regimented wife What does a prince have to do to get a drink here? Ah, Mabel! Why they call you an ugly stepsister, I'll never know. Where's Doris? Taking the night off? She's not welcome here, and neither are you. What do you want, Oharming? Not much. Just a chance at redemption. And a Fuzzy Navel. And Fuzzy Navels for all my friends! We're not your friends. You don't belong here. You're absolutely right, but, I mean, do any of us? Do a number on his face. Wait, wait, wait! We are more alike than you think. Wicked Witch! The Seven Dwarfs saved Snow White, and what happened? Oh, what's it to you? They left you the unfairest of them all. Now here you are, hustling pool to get your next meal. How does that feel? Pretty unfair. And you! Your star puppet abandons the show to go and find his father. I hate that little wooden puppet. And Hook. Need I say more? And you, Frumpypigskin! Rumpelstiltskin. Where's that firstborn you were promised? Mabel. Remember how you couldn't get your little fat foot... ...into that tiny glass slipper? Oinderella is in Far Far Away right now... ...eating bonbons, cavorting with every last fairy tale creature... ...that has ever done you wrong! Once upon a time, someone decided that we were the losers. But there are two sides to every story... ...and our side has not been told! So who will join me? Who wants to come out on top for once? Who wants their... ..." happily ever after" ? This way, gents. It's out of my hands, senorita. The winds of fate have blown on my destiny. But I will never forget you. You are the love of my life. As are you. And, uh, you. I don't know you, but I'd like to. I got to go! I don't wanna leave you either. But you know how Shrek is. The dude's lost without me. But don't worry. I'll send you airmail kisses every day! Be strong, babies. Ooco, Peanut, listen to your mama. Bananas, no roasting marshmallows on your sister's head. That's my special boy! Oome here, all of you! Give your daddy a big hug! Shrek? Maybe you should just stay and be King. Oome on. There's no way I could run a kingdom. That's why your cousin Arthur is a perfect choice. It's not that. You see... And if he gives me trouble, I always have persuasion and reason. Here's persuasion... and here's reason. Fiona... ...soon it's just going to be you, me... ...and our swamp. It's not going to be just you and me. All aboard! It will be. I promise. I love you. That's lovely. Bye-bye, babies! Shrek! Wait! What is it? I'm ... I'm ... I love you, too, honey! No! I said I'm ... You're what? I said I'm pregnant! What was that? You're going to be a father! That's great! Really? I'm glad you think so! I love you! Yeah! Me, too! You! I'm going to be an uncle! I'm going to be an uncle! And you, my friend, are royally... Home. Shrek! Fiona! Fiona? Oh, no. Better out than in, I always say. No, no, no! It's okay. It's gonna be all right. Stop! Hey, wait! Donkey. Donkey! Wake up! Dada! Shrek! Are you okay? I can't believe I'm going to be a father. How did this happen? Allow me to explain. When a man has feelings for a woman... ...a powerful urge sweeps over him. I know how it happened. I just can't believe it. How does it happen? And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon When you coming home, son? I don't know when But we'll get together then, Dad. Donkey! Oan you just cut to the part where you're supposed to make me feel better? You know I love Fiona, boss. Right? What I am talking about is you, me, my cousin's boat... ...an ice

cold pitcher of mojitos and two weeks of nothing but fishing. Don't listen to him! Having a baby isn't going to ruin your life. It's not my life I'm worried about ruining, it's the kid's . When have you ever heard the phrase "as sweet as an ogre" ... ...or " as nurturing as an ogre" ... ...or "You'll love my dad. He's a real ogre." Okay. I get it. It's not going to be easy. But you got us to help you. That's true. I'm doomed. You'll be fine. You're finished. Uh, with yourjourney. "Wor-ces-ters-shiree" ? Now that sounds fancy! It's Worcestershire. Like the sauce? It's spicy! They must be expecting us. What in the shista-shire kind of place is this? Well, my stomach aches and my palms just got sweaty. Must be a high school. High school? Ready? Okay! Wherefore art thou headed, to the top? Yeah, we think so, we think so! And dost thou thinkest thine can be stopped? Nay, we thinkst not, we thinkst not! All right, Mr. Percival, ease up on the reins. For lo, bro, don't burn all my frankincense and myrrh. I'm feeling nauseous from memories of wedgies and swirlies! How did you receive wedgies when you are clearly not the wearer of underpants? Let's just say some things are better left unsaid. So I was all like, " I'd rather get the black plague than go out with you." Oh, totally. Pardon me. Totally ew-eth. Yeah, totally. I just altered my character level to +3 superb-ability. Hi. We're looking for someone named... Who rolled a +9 dork spell and summoned the beast and his quadruped? I know you're busy not fitting in, but can you tell me where I can find Arthur? He's over there. There is no sweeter taste on thy tongue than victory! Strong, handsome, face of a leader. Does Arthur look like a king or what? Sorry. Did you say you were looking for Arthur? That information is on a need-to-know basis. It's top secret! Now, gentlemen, let's away. To the showers! Greetings, Your Majesty. This is your lucky day. What are you supposed to be? Some kind of giant mutant leprechaun or something? Giant mutant... You made a funny. Unhand me, monster! Stop squirming, Arthur. I'm not Arthur. I am Lancelot. That dork over there is Arthur. This is, like, totally embarrassing... ...but Tiffany thinkest thou vex her so soothly. She thought perchance thou would ask her to the Homecoming Dance. Excuse me? Like, whatever. She's into college guys and mythical creatures. Oh, Arthur... ...come out, come out, wherever you are! You better run, you little punk no-goodniks! The days of Donkey Dumpy Drawers are over! Hold it. We're here for the mascot contest. We're here for the mascot contest, too. This is a costume? Worked on it all night long. Looks pretty real to me. If he were real, could I do this? Or this? If it were real, that would have been agonizingly painful. Now watch this! That's quite enough, boys. Thank you to Professor Primbottom and his lecture... ...on "just say nay" . And now, without further ado, let's give a warm Worcestershire hoozah... ...to the winner of our mascot contest, the... ...ogre? That's right. I'm the new mascot. So let's really try and beat the other guys at... ...whatever it is they're doing! This is all a bit unorthodox... Where can I find Arthur Pendragon? Hey, wait... Olassic. You should be ashamed of yourself! I didn't do it. They did. Please don't eat me. Eat him! Eat him! Eat him! I'm not here to eat him! Time to pack up your toothbrush and jammies. You're the new King of Far Far Away. What? Artie a king? More like the Mayor of Loserville! Burn. Is this for real? Absolutely. Olean out your locker, kid. You have a kingdom to run. So, wait...l'm really the only heir? The one and only. Give me a second. My good people... ...there's a lesson here for all of us. Next time you're about to dunk a kid's head in a chamber pot, stop and think, " Hey, maybe this guy has feelings. Maybe I should cut him some slack. Cause maybe... just maybe... ...this guy's gonna turn out to be, I don't know, a king? Maybe his first royal decree will be to banish everyone who ever picked on him." I'm looking at you, jousting team! And Guin? Oh,

Guin. I've always loved you. Good friends, it breaks my heart, but... ...enjoy your stay here in prison while I rule the free world! Okay, let's not overdo it. I'm building my city, people... on rock 'n ' roll! You just overdid it. Look at you! You look darling. Just precious. Look at her. Any cravings since you got pregnant? No. Not at all. Do you smell ham? It's present time! Fiona, please open mine first. It's the one in front. " Oongratulations on your new mess mak..." Oh, mess maker! " Hopefully this helps. Love, Oinderella." Look at that! What is it? It's for the poopies. Wait... babies poop? Everyone poops, Beauty. Fiona! We all chipped in for a little present, too. Ta-da! You know the baby will love it, because I do! Guys, that's so sweet. Thank you. Who's this one from? I got you the biggest one, because I love you most. " Have one on me. Love, Snow White." What is it? He's a live-in babysitter. Where's the baby? You're too kind, Snow, but I can't accept this. It's nothing. I have six more at home. What does he do? Oleaning. Feeding. Burping. So, what are Shrek and I supposed to do? Work on your marriage. Thanks, Rapunzel. What's that supposed to mean? Oome on now, Fiona. You know what happens. You're tired all the time. You start letting yourself go. Stretch marks. Say goodbye to romance. I'm sorry, but how many of you have kids? She's right! A baby will only strengthen the love Shrek and Fiona have. How did Shrek react when you told him? When he first found out, Shrek said... Onward, my new friends! To our happily ever afters! Now... bombs away! Well, well, well. If it isn't Peter Pan. His name's not Peter. Shut it, Wendy. Enough pillaging! To the castle! You go! Take care of the baby! Everybody stay calm! We're going to die! Everyone in! Now! Oome on! Put some back into it! We don't have time. Now go! Quickly, ladies! We'll hold them off as long as we can! Where are Shrek and Fiona? The name doesn't ring a bell. No bell. I suggest you freaks cooperate... ...with the new King of Far Far Away! The only thing you're ever gonna be king of is King of the Stupids! Hook! Right! Avast, ye cookie. Start talking. Gingy! Papa! Settle down now. On the good ship Lollipop It's a sweet trip to the candy shop You! You can't lie. So tell me, puppet... where is Shrek? Well... I don't know where he's not. You don't know where Shrek is? It wouldn't be inaccurate to assume... ...that I couldn't exactly not say that is or isn't almost partially incorrect. So you do know where he is! On the contrary, I'm possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that in no way, with any amount of uncertainty... Stop it! ...I do not know where he shouldn't be. If that indeed wasn't where he isn't . Even if he wasn't not where I knew he was, it could mean... On the good ship Lollipop Enough! Shrek went off to bring back the next heir! He's bringing back the next heir? No! Hook! Get rid of this new " King" . But bring Shrek to me. I have something special in mind for him. He'll never fall for your tricks! Oh, boy. I can't believe it. Me, a king? I knew I came from royalty, but... ...I figured everyone forgot about me. Oh, no. In fact the King asked for you personally. Really? Wow. But I know it's not all fun and games. It really is all fun and games, actually. Sure, you have to knight a few heroes, launch a ship or two. By the way, make sure you hit the boat just right with the bottle. Any idiot can hit a boat with a bottle. Well, I've heard it's harder than it looks. This is going to be huge. Parties, princesses, castles. Princesses. You'll be living in the lap of luxury. The finest chefs will wait for your order. And fortunately, you'll have the royal food tasters. What do they do? Taste the food before the King eats, to make sure it's not poisoned. Poisoned? Or too salty. Don't worry. Your bodyguards will keep you safe. All of them willing at a moment's notice to lay down their lives out of devotion to you. Really? The whole kingdom will look to you for wisdom and guidance. Make sure they don't die of famine! Or plague. Plague is

bad. The coughing, the groaning, the festering sores. Festering sores! You are one funny kitty cat. What did I say? We don't want Artie getting the wrong idea. Artie? There goes my hip! Artie! What are you doing? What does it look like?! This really isn't up to you. I don't know anything about being king! You'll learn on the job! Sorry, but I'm going back. Back to what? Being a loser? Now look what you did! Look what I did? Who's holding the wheel, chief? Shrek! Land ho! How humiliating. Oh, nice going, Your Highness. Now it's "Your Highness" ? What happened to " loser" ? If you think this is getting you out of anything, it isn't . We're heading back to Far Far Away one way or another... ...and you're going to be a father! What? You just said "father" . King! You're going to be king! "You're going to be king!" Yeah, right. Where are you going? Far Far Away... from you! Get back here, young man! Boss? I don't think he's coming back. Maybe it's for the best. He's not exactly king material. When did you plan to tell him you were supposed to be king? Oome on. Why would I do that? Besides, he'll be ten times better at it than me. Then change your tactics if you want to get anywhere with him. You're right, Donkey. What about this? Shrek! Oome on. It's just a joke. Still... Listen, Artie. If you think this whole mad scene ain't dope, I feel you, dude. I'm not trying to get up in your grill or raise your roof. But what I am screamin' is, yo... ...check out this kazing thazing, bazaby! If it doesn't groove, or what I'm saying ain't straight trippin', say, " Oh, no, you didn't ! You're getting on my last nerve." And then I'll know it's ... I'll know it's wack! Help! I've been kidnapped by a monster who's trying to relate to me! Artie, wait. Oome on! Help! Hello? Greetings, cosmic children of the universe. Welcome to my serenity circle. Please leave any bad vibes outside the healing vortex. Now prepare to... I knew I should have got that warranty! Mr. Merlin? You know this guy? Yeah. He was the school magic teacher, until he had his nervous breakdown. Technically, I was merely a victim of a level 3 fatigue. At the request of my therapist, and the school authorities, I retired to the tranquility of nature to discover my divine purpose. Oan I interest anyone in a snack or beverage? Uh, no. Sure you don't want to try my Rock Au Gratin? It's organic. Thanks. I ate a boulder on the way in. We need directions to Far Far Away. "We" ? Who said I was going with you? I did. People are counting on you, so don't try to weasel out of it. If the job's so great, you do it. Understand this, kid. No more Mr. Nice Guy from here on out. That was your Mr. Nice Guy? Yeah, and I'm going to miss him. Why don't you go terrorize a village and leave me alone! Was that a crack about ogres? You get your royal highness to Far Far Away... ...before I kick it there! Now, which way am I kicking? I could tell you, but since you're in the midst of a self-destructive rage spiral, it would be karmically irresponsible. Self-destructive...? Are you going to help us or not? Most definitely, but only after you take the journey to your soul! I don't think so. It's either that or primal scream therapy. All right. Journey to the soul. Now, all of you, look into the Fire of Truth and tell me what you see. Ooh, charades! Okay, I see a Dutch fudge torte with cinnamon swirls! Okay, monster... go for it. I see a rainbow pony. Excellent work! Now the boy. This is lame. You're lame! Now just go for it. Okay. There's a baby bird and a father bird sitting in a nest. Yes! Stay with it! The dad just flew away. Why did he leave the little bird all alone? It's trying to fly, but it doesn't know how to. It's going to fall! Proper head case you are. Really messed up. Okay, I get it. The bird's me. My dad left. So what? Look, Artie, um... Just thought I'd help set the mood... ...for your big heart-to-heart chat. I know what it's like to not feel ready for something. Even ogres get scared. You know... once in a while. I know you want me to be king, but I can't . I'm not cut out for it,

and I never will be. Even my own dad knew I wasn't worth the trouble. He dumped me at that school first chance he got... ...and I never heard from him again. My dad wasn't really the fatherly type, either. I doubt he was worse than mine. Oh, yeah? My father was an ogre. He tried to eat me. I guess I should have realized it. He bathed me in barbecue sauce and put me to bed with an apple in my mouth. I guess that's pretty bad. It may be hard to believe, what, with my obvious charm and good looks, but people used to think I was a monster. And for a long time, I believed them. But after a while, you learn to ignore the names people call you and just trust who you are. You know... you're okay, Shrek. You just need to do a little less yelling and use a little more soap. Thanks, Artie. The soap's because you stink... really bad. Yeah... I got that. This place is filthy! I feel like a hobo. I'm sorry, but this isn't working for me. Everything's always about you. It's not like your attitude is helping. Maybe itjust bothers you I was voted fairest in the land. You mean in that rigged election? Give me a break. " Rapunzel, Rapunzel... ...let down thy golden extensions!" Ladies, let go of your petty complaints and let's work together! So I guess the plan is we just wander aimlessly in this stinkhole until we rot. No, we get inside and find out what Oharming's up to. I know he's a jerk and everything, but that Oharming makes me hotter than July. That's it! Oome on! This way! Rapunzel, wait! Oharming, let go of her. But why would I want to do that? What? Say hello, ladies, to the new Queen of Far Far Away. Rapunzel, how could you? Jealous much? Soon you'll be back where you started, scrubbing floors or locked away in towers. That is, if I let you last the week. Pookie, you promised not to hurt them. Not here, kitten whiskers. Daddy will discuss it later. Now forgive us. We have a show to put on. Shrek will be back soon, and you'll be sorry. Sorry?! Don't you realize once Shrek sets foot in Far Far Away... ...he's doomed? Look out! They got a piano! Kill them all... except the fat one. King Oharming has something special in mind for you, ogre. King Oharming? Attack! Artie, duck! Ready the plank! Shrek! Help! Oowards! What has Oharming done with Fiona? She's going to get what's coming to her. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop him! We've got to save her. But she's so far far away! Get yourself back to Worcestershire, kid. No, Shrek. Hold on. I've got an idea. I am a buzzing bee. Mr. Merlin? They need a spell to get them... ...I mean us, back to Far Far Away. Forget it. I don't have that kind of magic in me anymore. How about a hug? That's the best kind of magic. Please. I know you can do it. I said forget it! But... What's with you? It's just so hard, you know? They need to get back, cause their kingdom's in trouble. Cause there's a really bad man. It's just so hard! Take it easy. No! I don't think you understand! There's a mean person doing mean things to good people. Have a heart, old man. They really need your help to get back. Why won't you help them?! Okay. I'll go get my things. Piece of cake. Well, well. You want eggs with that ham? I am a little rusty, so there could be some side effects. Side effects? Don't worry. Whatever it is, no matter how excruciatingly painful, it will wear off eventually. I think. Oops. You sure about this? If Artie trusts him, that's good enough for me. Even if his robe doesn't cover... Alacritious expeditious... ...a-zoomy-zoom-zoom! Let's help our friends get back... ...soon! It worked! I haven't been on a trip like that since college! Donkey? What? Is something in my teeth? Oh, no! I've been abracadabra-ed into a Fancy Feastin', second-rate sidekick! At least you don't look like some kind of bloated pi�ata! You should think about going on a diet! You should get yourself a pair of pants. I feel all exposed and nasty! So you two think this is funny? I'm really sorry, guys. Don't be. You got us back, kid. How in the Hans Ohristian Andersen am I supposed to parade around in these goofy boots?

Hey, hey, hey! Be very careful with those. They were made in Madrid by the finest... You'll learn to control that. Seriously. Ow! You need some comfort inserts or arch supports or something. Watch it. I'm walking here and I'm gonna keep going until... Pinocchio! Shrek! Help me! What happened? Oharming and the villains took over! Fiona and the Princesses got away. Now she's ... She's what?! What?! Puss! Loan me five bucks. You heard him. Help the brother out. Do you see any pockets on me? Hold on a second. I had no idea, really. I... I swear. Quick! Where is Fiona? Oharming has her locked away someplace. You have to find him! He's probably getting ready for the show! Wait, Pinocchio! What show? " It's a Happily Ever After After All" . " Shrek's final performance" ? Shrek! You didn't tell us you were in a play! I guess I've been so busy I forgot to mention it. The ogre! Get him! Don't worry, jefe. I got this. Uck! Kill it! Look. Don't you know who he thinks he is? How dare you! We're dealing with amateurs. He's a star, people! Hello? I'm so sorry about this, Mr. Shrek. I'm going to lose it! Is everything ready? You did get the list for the dressing room? Breakfast croissant stuffed with seared sashimi tuna. And I hope you have the saffron corn with jalapeno honey butter. Our client cannot get into his proper emotional state withoutjalapeno honey butter! I just lost it. They should talk to Nancy in Human Resources. Oh, we will have much to say to Nancy, I promise! "With this sword, I do..." No. "With..." "With this sword, I do smote thee!" Is " smote" the right word? " Smoot" ? I don't think that's a word. Maybe I should just " smite" him. Let's try this again. Now... Shrek attacks me. I pretend to be afraid. " Now the kingdom will get the happily ever after they deserve. Die, ogre!" Blah, blah, blah. Oh, itjust doesn't feel real enough! Who told you to stop dancing?! Wink and turn. What are you laying around for? Get up! Honestly! Our happily ever after is nearly complete, Mummy. And I assure you... ...the people of this kingdom will pay dearly for every second... ...we've had to wait. Break a leg. On second thought, let me break it for you. Thank goodness. I was afraid you wouldn't get back in time. Where's Fiona? Don't worry. She and the others are safe... for now. Let me guess. Arthur. It's Artie, actually. This boy is supposed to be the new King of Far Far Away? How pathetic. Stand still, so I won't make a mess. Oharming, stop! I'm here now. You got what you wanted. This isn't about him. Then who's it about? I'm supposed to be king, right? You weren't really next in line for the throne. I was. But you said the King asked for me personally. Not exactly. What does that mean? I said whatever I had to say, all right? I wasn't right for the job, so I needed some fool to replace me. And you fit the bill. So just go! You were playing me the whole time. You catch on real fast, kid. Maybe you're not as big of a loser as I thought. You know, for a minute... ...I actually thought... What? That he cared about you? He's an ogre. What did you expect? You really do have a way with children, Shrek. Leave me out with the waste This is not what I do It's the wrong time She's pulling me through It's a small crime And I got no excuse And is that all right, yeah? Is that all right with you? Is that all right, yeah? If I give my gun away when it's loaded? If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it? Is that all right? Is that all right? Is that all right with you? No. Had we stayed put like I suggested, we'd be sipping tea out of little heart-shaped cups. Yeah, heart-shaped cups. And eating crumpets smothered with loganberries. Yeah, loganberries. Shut up, Oindy. Yeah, shut up. No, you shut up. Stay out of this. Who cares who's " running the kingdom" ? I care. You should all care. I have your badge number, tin can! Donkey? Princess! Puss? I am Puss, stuck here inside this hideous body. And I'm me! But you're... Everything's fruity in the loops, but what happened is we went to high school, the boat crashed and we got

bippity-boppity-booped by the magic man. You poor sweet things. I don't get it. The cat turned into a little horse that smells like feet. What's to get? Who dat? Where's Shrek? Oharming has him. He plans to kill Shrek tonight in front of the whole kingdom! All right, everyone. We need to find a way out now. You're right. Ladies, assume the position! What are you doing? Waiting to be rescued. You've got to be kidding me. What else can we do? We're just four... ...I mean three, super-hot princesses... ...two circus freaks, a pregnant ogre and an old lady! Excuse me. Old lady coming through. Mom! You didn't think you got your fighting skills from your father, did you? Excuse me. There's still one more. Why don't you just lie down? Okay, girls, from here on out... ...we take care of business ourselves. The Far Far Away Theatre at the Charming Pavilion is proud to present... ..."It's A Happily Ever After After AII." Enjoy your evening of theatrical reverie, citizen. Oi! No food or beverages in the theater! Places, everyone! Easy! Sorry. I was showing off for the little one. It's Bring Your Kids to Work Day. Oome here, beautiful. Well, she's got your eye. Who would have thought a monster like me deserved something as special as you? Little birdies, take wing Flitting down from the trees they appear And to chirp in my ear All because I sing Move it! Go! My babies! Help! Hey, how's it goin' O to the K. The coast is clear. Let's do this. Go, Team Dynamite! I thought we agreed to use the name Team Super Oool. I recall it was Team Awesome. I voted for Team Alpha Wolf Squadron. Okay! From henceforth, we will be Team Alpha Super Awesome Oool Dynamite Wolf Squadron. Ach de liebe! There is some strange little girl over there staring at us! Artie! Wait, wait! Where is the fire, se�or? Please. Don't act so innocent. You both knew what was going on and kept it to yourselves. It's not like it seems. It's not? I think it seems pretty clear. He was using me. That's all. Using you? You really don't get it. Shrek only said those things to protect you. Oharming was going to kill you, Artie! Shrek saved your life. Oue the spot! I wait alone up here I'm trapped another day Locked up here, please set me free My new life I almost see A castle, you and me Yes, a castle, you and me Oherubs! Tis I, Tis I Upon my regal steed Princess, my love At last you shall be freed I'm strong And brave And dashing my way there With speed! With might! With soft and bouncy hair! - Through the blistering desert Hot! - Across the stormiest sea Wet! Facing creatures so vile Foul! So you can gaze upon me! I knew you'd come for me And now we finally meet I knew you'd wait And from my plate of love you'd eat Who is this terribly ugly fiend Who so rudely intervened? Will Charming fight or flee? Please rescue me! From this monstrosity! Fear thee not, honey lamb! I will slice this thing up like a ham! Oh, boy. You are about to enter a world of pain With which you are not familiar! It can't be any more painful than your lousy performance. " Prepare, foul beast." Prepare, foul beast, your time is done! Oould you kill me and then sing? Be quiet! I'm just having fun with you. That's actually a very nice leotard. Thank you. Do they come in men's sizes? Now that be funny! Enough! Now you'll finally know what it's like... ...to have everything you worked for... ...everything that's precious to you, taken away. Now you'll know how I felt. Sausage roll! Pray for mercy from Puss! And Donkey! D Hi, honey. Sorry we're late. You okay? Much better, now that you're here. So, Oharming, you want to let me out of these so we can settle this ogre-to-man? Ooh, that sounds fun. But I have a better idea. No! Let go of me! You will not ruin things this time, ogre. Kill it. Everybody, stop! Oh, what is it now?! Artie? Who thinks we need to settle things this way? You mean you want to be villains your whole lives? But we are villains! It's the only thing we know. You never wish you could be something else? Easy for you to say. You're not some evil enchanted tree. You morons! Don't listen to him!

Attack! What Steve means is it's hard to come by honest work when the whole world's against you. Right. Thanks, Ed. Fair enough. You're right. I'm not a talking tree. But you know... ...a good friend once told me... ...just because people treat you like a villain, or an ogre... ...orjust some loser... ...doesn't mean you are one. What matters most is what you think of yourself. If there's something you really want, or someone you want to be... ...the only person standing in your way is you. Me? Get him! No, no, no! What I mean is each of you... ...is standing in your own way. I always wanted to play the flute. I'd like to open up a spa... in France! I grow daffodils. And they're beautiful. A new era finally begins! Now all of you... ...bow before your King! You need to work on your aim. This was supposed to be my happily ever after! Well, you need to keep looking... ...because I'm not giving up mine. Mommy? It's yours if you want it. But this time it's your choice. Author! Artie! Artie! Artie! Artie! Excuse me. That's my seat. Okay, Se�or Hocusy-Pocusy, the time has come to rectify some wrongs! Though I have been enjoying these cat baths. Please say you didn't . All right! Look. You'll feel a pinch and possibly lower intestinal discomfort... ...but this should do the trick. Are you...? I'm me again! And I am not you! All right! Oops. Ah, never mind. What did I tell you? The kid's going to be a great king. Well, for what it's worth, you would have, too. I have something much more important in mind. Finally. Dada. Was I wrong about the world? It's a beautiful new place I smell Shrek Junior! Where else could a creep like me Meet such a pretty face Meeting every day with the rising sun Looking up, it's looking like My losing streak is done Peek-a-boo! Peek-a-boo! A bouncy, bouncy, boy! Used to always feel like Wished that I was dressed better Where's the baby? Never had a lot of luck Until I finally met her Meeting every day with the rising sun Looking up, it's looking like My losing streak is done My losing streak is done Well... what shall we do now? I got it. Puss and Donkey, baby! Once again, come on! I want to thank you for letting me be myself Again! Look at my hips! I want to thank you for letting me be myself Again! Break it down! Let's go! Stiff all in the collar Fluffy in the face Chit chat chatter trying Stuffy in the place Thank you for the par-tay But I could never stay I'm sorry. I got many things on my mind But the word's in the way And I want to thank you for letting me be myself Again Different strokes for different folks Thank you for letting me be myself Again Break it down! Puss and Donkey, baby! Puss and Donkey, baby! Puss and Donkey, baby! Dance to the music All night long Everyday people Sing a simple song Mama's so happy Mama start to cry Papa's still singing You can make it if you try So try! Thank you for letting me be myself Again Thank you for letting me be myself Again Oome on, Donkey. Do something right! Put the hoofs together! Put the hoofs together! Stomp your boots, baby! Stomp your boots, baby! Stomp your boots, baby! Thank you for letting me be myself Again I want to thank you for letting me be myself Again Thank you, thank you, thank you. Want to thank you Just to be my Because I just want to be my... See? Can I, can I thank you! Can I Yes! Yes!

Omg

[asimpletroll]

Hawks Becomes a Villain:

(Because, out of everyone, he has the most reasons to flip and the least amount of reasons to stay. I mean, he literally only has Tokoyami and Rumi there for him anymore, guys, it's pathetic.) BUT ANYWHO! This is how Hawks goes from Friendly neighborhood Winged Hero to Terror of the Skies. He finds his mother. He finds her, and she's old, and crippled, and all alone in the world. She thinks that his father and he abandoned her, and her mind is so broken in her old age (dementia) that all she asks him, over and over, is "Why?" "Why did you leave me, Keigo?" "Did I not love you enough?" "Did I not take care of you?" Even on her deathbed, she still asks him these questions as she flatlines. She sounds so confused, so sorrowful and wounded, that Hawks' heart breaks... And for the first time in over a decade, Keigo Takami rises through the brainwashing and training, and the wreckage of it is UGLY. The HPSC manages to keep his panic attack away from the media and public's attention, but suddenly, all of the Pro-heroes know about Keigo's anxiety, and are on pins and needles about it. Which does. Not. Help. Keigo starts molting over the next few months, his feathers losing their luster no matter what's done to them, his hair dulls, and his eyes darken, his whole being seems to suddenly fall into shadow. Even the villains notice, stirring slightly and becoming more active (and regretting it almost instantly, because an anxious Hawks is even faster than usual.) Soon, he can't smile, his feathers are a dull brown, his hair looks more dusty brown than dirty blonde, and his eyes are hazel instead of gold. He swords are weaker, and while he's still plenty fast on his feet, he can't fly as fast or as high anymore, and this catches the media's attention. Soon, it's told that Hawks has fallen from his pedestal, that he's lost his touch, that he's gotten weak and soft, even when he's landing more villains in the ICU than usual. The League of Villains intervenes, surprising Hawks at his apartment, but instead of killing or threatening him, they ask him what happened, and he has another panic attack when they press a little too hard upon sensing a weak spot in his usual tough armor. They watch as he crumbles into tears, falling into a heap on the floor, his feathers completely falling off of him as he sobs about how he couldn't even save his own mother. What kind of hero can't save their own mother? He's a monster, Twice was right, the Pros are the monsters and he's the worst of them and- "Shut up." Dabi states, surprising the room as he stands up, Keigo continues to sob wordlessly, curled into a ball in his molted wings, "You're a great Hero, alright? Better than most at least. Dementia isn't something you can fight, either, you can't save someone from it. Only prolong their totured existence, and it sounds like your mom was in a lot of pain near her end. It was time for her to go. So stop your whining and stop blaming yourself, start doing your job and rescuing people who might be having the same thing being done to them right now." Keigo looks up at him in tears, too weak and panicked to anything other than stare and cry, and Dabi sighs tiredly, marching forward and dragging the other man to his feet. "Fuck, Bird Brain, you're heavy." "Dabi, the fuck you doing?" Shigaraki finally manages to find SOME words to express his utter gobsmacked-ness, and Dabi turns to him. "You guys wanna know why I hate Heroes so much?" Murmurs of agreement gently run around the room, "Well, I was in the same program Hawks was, but I flunked it. 'Burned out' is what they put on the offical paperwork I believe, those sadistic bastards." There is a pregnant pause as everyone absorbs this, the feathers on the floor start to tremble slightly before going limp and Keigo just rests his head on Dabi's shoulder and whispers and if he could flunk outta life. "No, cause you're gonna show them what happens when you take a child away from their mother. You're gonna raise a type o' a Hell they've never even THOUGHT of before, and you're gonna do it with pride, because that's what they taught you to do and that's how you're gonna spit in their face. You're gonna mock them and embarrass them so bad, they'll wail for their own mothers, you hear me? You're gonna be a one of us, for real this time."

[jimlingss]

i woke up this morning with a headache and a puffy face bcs i cried reading moirai before going to sleep, i stop at chap 4 bcs it was still happy and the way you keep saying it's gonna turn dark scares me lol and binge the rest of it after you finished posting yesterday.

maynn i was crying so hard for oc when she was shot, and when ocs mother are just realising that her daughter are on her deathbed but apologising to her? for not going to be the queen? and then tae when he got poisoned, pheww i kept calming myself saying you didnt put any character death warning but still cried sksksks taehyung just wanna be loved you old fool!!!!

im so happy with the ending 🥰🥰 tae n oc with their happy family in the forest, jk and lucy finding each other, with ocs help ofc waaaa oc should remind jk that every second hihi i was wondering if after all the fiasco did jk lost his naivety n finally see that his parents aren't all that? and what actually happened with oc and tae after the fiasco?

thank you for writing moirai!!! definitely becoming one of my favourites of yours saw a lot of love towards jp and i love them too!! but brass n strings are just ❤️❤️❤️ to me but there's not even one fic of yours that i didn't like, i truly adore you 😚😚

dammmn hope you weren’t crying too hard, anon :< tbh I didn’t cry at all reading Moirai hahahhaa but I can see how it could happen, things do definitely become intense. but yes, those scenes you mentioned for sure were emotional which I’m glad about because if it weren’t, that meant I failed to write them as emotional lol. to be frank though, I usually never mention if there’s major character death — something I know which is sort of improper to do, but I just think it’s just SUCH a massive spoiler that it’ll ruin reader’s experiences. so typically, I just warn people it’s gonna be super angsty. still not sure if that’s a good move, but it’s what I decided and no one’s found an issue with it yet. anyway, good questions.

I’m pretty sure Jungkook woke up to reality a bit more after the whole fiasco — namely to Taehyung’s experience. And how Taehyung really wasn’t living a princely life like he was. However, he did still love his parents, ie. his father, the King. He knew what his father did was completely wrong and was unable to change his mind about Tae, but JK couldn’t bring himself to hate him. It goes to show when Jungkook was still by his side at his deathbed. He did, however, undo what his dad did as it was shown. 

All in all, Jungkook might not have agreed with his father but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon him. As for Tae and OC, after they were transported out of the castle, they ended up in a meadow that Taehyung thought of on the fly. They stayed at an inn that night and from then on, went on the run, stayed in inns and wore disguises/capes. As the rumours spoke, they indeed traveled the lands together hand-in-hand. 

They probably settled down in the forest after. But after the announcement of the King’s death and Jungkook’s decree right after, they probably became relieved and stepped out of the shadows and visited Jungkook/the castle in secret for the first time since the incident.

[stfreds-a]

hello everyone! this is rylan (27, she/her, gmt+2) here to introduce you to the lil nugget of fucked up-itude that is freddie dawson! + more info, wanted connections. / @redridgeimp​

name: fredericke ann dawson nicknames: freddie, fred, st. fred age: 33 ethnicity: white gender/pronouns: cis female, she/her sexual/romantic orientation: bisexual/biromantic been in red ridge for: five years occupation: bartender at st. peter’s affiliation: none positive traits: nurturing, clever, good spirited, humorous, wise, motherly, diligent, quiet, loyal, protective. negative traits: closed off, impulsive, proud, resentful, self-deprecating, bitter, frightened.

BIOGRAPHY —

(WARNINGS for depression, death, abuse / domestic abuse, violence, underage sex, prostitution, child abandonment).

“why’d you get so obsessed with that word, freddie? who told you about saints?” “grandpa did, he said he’s named after st. peter”. “and why do you care?” “‘cause he said saints do good things. i wanna be a saint, too”. “why on earth would you want that?” “‘cause, ma — i wanna save everyone”.

—

there’s a lifetime from that moment to now. she can remember it, but it comes in flashes, a hazy hue of desert gold — she remembers the girl she was, bright-eyed and restless, never shying away from the trail of a question. prying, relentless: the whole world could be simplified to reasons and whys, and she would hunt them the whole day long, out in the dust storms like the wind, not even it could dare question her spirits. whatever happened to that girl? dull, watered down: erased, and her own has been the hand rubbing her existence off her own life.

el paso, texas, 2002. she couldn’t tell how it happened, or when it began — surely that summer of eighteen years ago must have played its part. her mother losing her job (too tired, too tired all the time: too sad to see a doctor, too weak to even get out of bed anymore), bills piling up. her older sister trying hard to keep things afloat with an underpaid gig at the laundry, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough. one day grandpa comes home and he’s making math in his head, calculating how much longer they can survive if he sells the farm, the truck, the horse. that night freddie asks, how come their dad’s not around? he could provide, he could help them? grandpa grows colder then, gaze darker than the clouds gathering on the horizon: i’ll burn this place to the ground before he sets foot in here.

that side of the family, either way, is cunning and insidious, and it comes knocking at the door, offering business, a way to salvage the farm. it is victor, freddie’s uncle, who brings the offering: grandpa throws him out in spite, and freddie watches it all while she’s sitting on the fence outside, skin burning gold from the sun, dust sticking to her like glitter. you’re pretty, victor says: you might be your family’s only chance, you know? she doesn’t (can’t) understand, but she’ll walk any way that can save grandpa, his horse, her mother’s strength, her sister’s dreams of becoming a nurse.

turns out the way is a dark and winding one, one where she has to suck up the terror when a man touches her skin and she has to say yes, please, more, i’ll be anything you want, the key to unlocking all the dark and sick desires you’ve buried in there and can’t speak to anyone, not your wife, not your daughter, not your mother: give them to me, she whispers, let the darkness out. at night she takes hour-long showers to try and rub the darkness off of her, and it won’t come off, it never does — but grandpa didn’t have to sell the farm, and even if he was against her getting a job (said she’d be a waitress, don’t worry pops, i got it), the day he realized he wouldn’t have to sell the horse he smiled: it felt like the gates of heaven themselves would open.

she hates her job, but doesn’t mind the company. they make her work in a dismissed motel, along with girls about her age and her damage, and there is an unspoken bond of loyalty between them — the guys, too, when they’re guarding the doors they smile at them as fondly as they would their sisters (but they wouldn’t let their sisters in a place like this, no). there’s carl, who never speaks but smiles at fred each time he sees her. there’s billy, drives her home every night before victor can volunteer. there’s sonja, who teaches her how to punch a man’s throat when he gets too handsy. there’s a sense of family, while her own begins unraveling around the suspicion that something dark is going on.

el paso, texas, 2005. the farm is saved, but mom’s not getting any better. depression sucks her up, little by little, and she drifts away more or less peacefully, doesn’t dare oppose resistance — she dies a morning of october, and neither of her daughters can speak of it. grandpa has to put down the horse a week later. she’d thought she’d saved everyone —— how come the darkness still won’t leave?

she grows sadder, dark as the clouds that won’t seem to leave their town alone. she finds an unexpected shoulder to cry on in the person of johnny, billy’s cousin and yet another one of victor’s men: johnny’s sweet, he makes her laugh. he begins driving her home at night instead of billy (his cousin’s not happy, she can see this: but he nods his agreement anyway and doesn’t protest, he can’t, johnny’s older and wiser and he’s still just a kid). the rest of it is as old and predictable as it gets: he says he’ll make an honest woman out of her, she retorts there needs to be an honest man for that to happen to begin with. they laugh, they kiss, they promise — five years later, she’s twenty-five and married, almost happy. almost.

el paso, texas, 2006. she wants to leave her job. johnny said he can’t stand the thought of someone touching her where he should, and she tries: but victor won’t have it, no, did you think it was a temporary gig? come on girl, you’re smarter than that. he’s filthy, he humiliates her — beats her just to prove he can, he owns her. she comes home with bruises and johnny’s angry: if you couldn’t quit, he says, it’s because you didn’t really want t. his bruises are added to victor’s, perfectly symmetrical blooms to decorate her skin. she begins cracking, her very essence tearing at the seams — she was trying so hard to save everyone, how the fuck is she gonna save herself now?

billy comes over sometimes. his commitments to what he likes to call “street things” keep him out of the motel now, but he needs to check on her — she makes up excuses to keep away, hide the signs. says she’s got a bad cold one day, the other she’s just not feeling. one day he’s got enough and forces her to open the door: a busted lip, both her eyes grown purple with the blows. his anger is scalding hot but she manages to calm him down — it’s okay, she says, he just gets angry sometimes. i’ll find a way out of it somehow. he leaves in a hurry, never shows up again: the unspoken fear in her mind, that he’s gone and done something terrible he’ll regret, almost brings a relief to her sore mind. perhaps he’s killed him, she thinks. perhaps i’m free.

johnny comes back and it’s business as usual. she tells herself she’s gotta be strong, gotta leave this town, gotta make it out alive. she packs a bag and leaves it hidden under the bed, but when she looks at the door she sees the world with johnny’s face, ready to eat her up, chew her out, over and over. it’s the day police comes knocking at her door that the world drags her out — in the person of detective jake graham, investigating the disappearance of william ‘billy’ dickinson — part of a much bigger investigation, that sooner leads to the arrest of victor rosce and most of his men (johnny included). she’s on her own: and when the detective figures out she needs help, he makes the way for a new life in red ridge, nevada. beaten, broken, ashamed, she says goodbye to texas; to freddie dickinson; to the comfortable shelter of her fear.

red ridge, nevada, 2015. red ridge ain’t much of an afterlife, but it works. they take her to a women’s shelter and bit by bit she puts her pieces back together. badly held in place, like a broken teacup taped back together — but it works. azul, the director of the shelter, turns out to be the family she’s missing — she finds a sense of home in the shelter, a new purpose behind the counter of st. peter’s, serving drinks for those who are heading for a fight at rogues’. like a gatekeeper, like st. peter himself: such a stark contrast from the hell she just left.

heaven is short-lived, and hell comes knocking back at the door. it appears in the shape of two parallel lines on a pregnancy test: johnny’s seed, rooted in her womb, giving way to evil like himself. she wants to throw up, hopes somehow that’ll rid her of this curse — her vision blinded, her ears are ringing. in fear, she turns to the only place she knows can provide comfort, or advice, or any sort of guidance while she has no fucking clue how to fix this: back home, to her sister.

el paso, texas, 2016. grandpa’s dying, angie says. old age catching up to him, so all he does is lie in his bed all day and ask for movies to be played continuously on his tv. it’s an odd family they recreate now, the nurse, the dying man and the pregnant sister. there is a soft, mournful balance found, until one night victor shows up demanding to see her and when angie claims freddie isn’t there he has his men beat her grandpa, thrash the house just to get the point across: he can. he owns her.

she sits by her grandpa’s deathbed that night and weeps. i’m sorry, pops, i’m so sorry: i tried so hard to be a saint, to save everyone. perhaps he’s just exhaling, but it sounds like he’s laughing. child, he says, saints always die either virgins or martyrs. you fucked up the first — now you just gotta pray you’re good enough for the latter.

somewhere between texas and nevada, 2016. grandpa dies two weeks later, and freddie’s not there. right after victor’s visit, angie gave her money just to get her away from them, and bring her trouble with her — grandpa dies a week before her baby’s born, taken out of her and delivered into a nurse’s hands without so much as a goodbye. they ask, would you like to see your baby? freddie turns and pretends she didn’t hear. wherever the baby will end up, it’s gotta be a better fate than the child of a martyr.

red ridge, nevada, 2017. red ridge felt like a home. for a hot second, it felt like things could start over again. she ends up in it again — in the thick of a burning town, trying to make her way through people that do not belong to her, desperately looking for something to hold on to. a year has passed since she last set foot in town, but st. peter’s has been waiting for her; the same arrangement of unfinished business, too. little by little, in red ridge, she begins putting herself back together.

CURRENTLY fred is a bartender at st. peter’s, occasionally lends a hand to azul evangelista for the women’s shelter, is in a committed relationship with detective jake graham. her uncle, her husband and most of their gang are in jail after the investigation jake led back in 2015. she hasn’t heard from her sister ever since leaving el paso. her baby was given up for adoption and she never learned anything more about them — nor does she plan to.

[layce2015]

John Wick Chapter 3 Parabellum (John Wick x Reader)

Chapter 3: Jardani Jovonovich

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

After abandoning the horse, you follow John up to this theater where he goes up to the Ticketmaster window and knocks on the window. "We are closed." The lady said, not looking up from her book, in a heavy Russian accent. John pulls out the cross from his pocket and slams it against the window, getting the woman's attention. She looks up and her eyes widen as she sees this then she goes and opens the door for you two.

Both of you enter the building and you could hear music playing from where you guess was the theater. John leads you to a table where there were about three men sitting around it when they look up at John. "It's been a while." one of the men said as John places his coins, the cross and the Oath Marker on the table. You stood there, slightly confused, as another guy said to John. "And the belt." John stares at him then takes off his belt and lays it on the table. 

"And the lady?" One of the men asked as he nods towards you and you look over at John. He gestures towards your wrist and you look down and see your knife bracelet. "Oh, sorry." You muttered as you take it off the bracelet and set it on the table. The men nodded as one of them said. "Show them the way." another guys comes up to you two as John grabs the cross. "Be seeing you." John said to the men. "Be seeing you." one of men said and the two of you were lead out of the room and into the main theater.

The man opens the door and you and John walk down the little runway of the theater, where music was playing and the room was dark apart from one blue light shining on the dancer on the stage. "Again." A woman's voice shouts at the girl when she falls and makes a mistake. The girl gets up and starts dancing again as John goes up to the woman and kneels before her.

"Jardani. Why have you come home?" asked the Director. Jardani? you thought, confused, as John holds up the cross to her. "You present this to me like an answer." The Director said. "I still have my ticket." John replied, roughly. "After all the chaos you and this woman have caused for the last few weeks, you think your ticket is valid?" The Director asked as she looks at you, giving you a disapproving look.

You didn't like how she looked at you and part of you wanted to snap back but you didn't want to make things worse for you and John so you stayed quiet. "You forget that the Ruska Roma is bound by the High Table? And the High Table stands above all. They could kill me just for talking to you. You honor me by bringing death to my front door?" The Director asked, angrily, as John looks down for a moment but looks back at her, still holding up the cross.

"Oh, Jardani. What has become of you?" She asked, disappointed, as she looks at John. There it is again. Jardani...what does that mean? You thought until John looks over at you then looks back at the woman. "My name is Jardani Jovonovich. I am a child of the Belarus, an orphan of your tribe....You are bound to help me. You are bound! And I am owed!" John said. 

The Director looks at him for a moment then shouts. "Runi, enough!" The girl on stage stops and walks away and the Director stands up. "With me." She said to John then he stands up and she starts to walk down the runway and pass the stage. You and John exchange looks and he gestures for you to follow him and the two of you head towards the backstage.

"You are owed. You are owed nothing, Jardani. You know, when my pupils first come here, they wish for one thing. A life free of suffering. I try to dissuade them from these childish notions, but as you know, art is pain. Life is suffering." The Director said as the three of you pass by some of the dancers as they were stretching and preparing for their practice.

"Somehow you managed to get out. But here you are, back where you began. All of this for what?" The Director asked then she turns sharply to John. He looks over at you and you look up at him as he takes your hand in his, the Director looks at this, her eyebrow raised, then a look a realization washes over her face. "Ah, love. Of course." She said, in an almost disapproving tone, then she turns and continues down the steps. "She's the light of my life. Her love gives me strength to overcome life’s challenges. I can’t imagine life without her." John said and the Director laughs, sarcastically. "Oh, she's already made you soft! Not a good sign, Jardani." She said once she turns to him. She turns back and continues on, you and John follow her behind.

Then you guys enter a room where you see what looks like a wrestling match going on. The Director looks over at John and asked. "Fond memories?" she smirks then walks off then you two go through a room of girls dancing and go through a door, entering a large office. "Sit." She said and you and John look around, nervously, then take the two seats across from her.

"Even if I wanted to...I can't help you, Jardani. The High Table wants your life. How can you fight the wind? How can you smash the mountains? How can you bury the ocean? How can you escape from the light? Of course, you can go to the dark. But they're in the dark, too. So tell me, Jardani, what do you really want?" She asked John. "Passage." John replied.

"Where did you want to go?" She asked him. "Casablanca." He replied and she laughs. "The path to paradise begins in hell." She said and John holds out his cross and she smirks. "So be it. You hand me your ticket, I will tear it...if that's what you really desire." She said and John rolls up the beads then hands the cross to her. She tears of the beads and tossed it on the table as John stands up and starts to take off his suit jacket.

Then a man comes around the corner and a grabs an Iron poker, that had the shape of a cross at the end. John takes off his tie and unbuttons his shirt and you look up at him confused. "Uh, what the hell...?" You started to ask when John looks at you. "It's okay, (y/n)." He said to you, softly, then he turns his chair around and sits down and pulls the back of his shirt down, exposing his upper back.

You look towards the fireplace and see a guy with an iron poker and he had it placed in the fireplace for a few seconds. This freaked you out a bit. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You said, quickly. "What are you about to do to him?" You asked, frantically. "Punching in his ticket." The Director replied then she turns to John.

"With this, Jardani, your ticket is torn." She said and the guy with the poker comes up and stamps the cross shape into John's back. You winced at this then placed your hands over your mouth as John clenches his teeth and holds back a scream. "You can never come home again." She said as the man removed the poker off of John. Then she looks up at the man. "Take them to the lifeboat." She said then she stands up. "Dasvidaniya." She spat at him and walks out. "Dasvidaniya." John said, softly.

"Why did she keep calling you Jardani?" You asked John after you two were alone on a boat, minus the driver of the boat. "Does that mean something or...?"

"It's my real name." John replied and you look up at him, confused. "What?" You asked, shocked and confused. "Jardani Jovonovich is my real name." He said and you furrow your brow at him then placed your hand on the side of the boat, to balance yourself as you start to feel lightheaded. 

"(Y/n)..." he said, worried, and you blink a few times and shake your head. "So John Wick is not even your real name?" You asked and he stands there in silence, feeling bad he hid that from you, and you start to become angry. "So first you hid this whole life of being an assassin from me, and now come to find out John's not even your real name?!" You exclaimed, anger was rising with every word you said. "Whatever happened to we don't keep secrets from each other?!"

"I'm sorry, I...I was going to tell you..." he said and you scoff at this  "When? When you were on your deathbed? Or when I was on mine?" You asked, angrily, and he shakes his head. "No, I was gonna tell you everything that night when Santino came to our doorsteps. When I buried that stuff, I was gonna to tell you everything that night. But then....well...you know..." he said and he shrugs a bit and your place your hands on your temple and rub them.

Your head felt like it was gonna explode as it was hurting so bad from the information you were learning. "So what am I supposed to call you? John? Jardani? Baba Yaga? The Boogeyman?!" You asked, angrily, and he glances at you. "I'm still the same man you know and love." He said and you sighed. "Honestly, it doesn't really feel like I do. I feel like I don't know you anymore. I just..." you stopped, not knowing what to say, then you lower your head and bring your hands to your face and began to cry.

"(Y/n), honey, please don't..." John said as he goes over to you. He was about to embrace you but stop, hesitating on whether you wanted him to touch you or not. After all, he is the cause of you crying and breaking down. But he slowly places his hand on your shoulder, when you didn't push him away he takes that as an okay and pulls you into an embrace. You bury your face into his chest and cried as he leans his chin on top of your head and kisses the top of your head, a tear running down his cheek.

He holds you close and starts to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. As he does this, you started to calm down; even though you were mad at him, he was still able to calm you down and make you feel safe. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I didn't mean to hurt you like this. I'm sorry, please forgive me. I love you, so much." He whispers into your ear and you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him tight. This started to remind you of that day when you were rescued by John and this brought a small smile to your face.

How could that have been only a few weeks ago? It feels like it was so long ago.

"I..I...I know you're sorry. It's just...ever since Helen died, my life has been a domino effect, you know?" You said and you look up at him and he gives you a sad look, realizing that you hadn't really had time to grieve your sister which made him feel extra guilty. This should've been the time to help you out with the grieving process but now it's spent on fighting for your lives because of him. "I mean...the dog she leaves me gets killed, I get kidnapped and then find out my husband is a badass assassin that everyone fears." You said and John let's out a small playful scoff. "Then I get thrown into said world, get shot at, punched, grabbed, kicked, stabbed and now we're running for our lives." You said.

John nods and he starts to feel guilty again, even though you told him to stop feeling this way, he can't help it. He loves you so much that it hurts to see you upset or hurt and the worst part is he was the cause of this. "I know that look and stop, okay?" You pointed out as you look at him. His eyes widen then he looks down.

You give a small frown then you place your finger and thumb on his chin and pull it up to look at you. "No more secrets when this is over, okay?" You said, firmly, and he stares into your eyes and he could see that you were being serious. "No more secrets. I swear it. If you want me to, I'll tell you everything right now." He said to you. You nod at him and he takes your hand in his and kisses it then he stares into your eyes again for a moment. "I don't deserve you." He whispers to you and you smile.

"Well...You're still stuck with me. Can't get rid of me that easily." You joked and he chuckles at this. "For better or worse, right?" He said and you smile up at him. "For better or worse." You said, nodding, and you two share a kiss. Then you two sit down and he begins to tell you everything about his past.

[kainosite]

Les Misérables 2018, Episode 3

Les Mis fandom: Andrew Davies is a scoundrel.  What is he?

Me: ... Scoundwel.

The Good:

• I can’t believe the BBC actually filmed the “Now the people of this town can see you for what you really are” scene of a thousand Valvert fanfics.  They know what the people want.

• The Thénardiers are still fantastic.  Somehow the BBC has achieved the impossible feat of portraying them as loathsome abusers whom you hate with every fiber of your being, while simultaneously making them the fun comic relief you’re sort of rooting for in their capacity as the wacky crime duo.  On Christmas Eve I wanted the Seargeant of Waterloo to burn to the ground with everyone inside it, except for Cosette who was out getting water, Éponine and Azelma who were playing on the swings and Gavroche who was out back playing with Chou Chou or something.  I still grinned when Madame Thénardier cheerily reminded her husband to bring the pistol the next morning.  Striking this balance is a truly impressive achievement that I’ve only seen equalled by the Dallas production of the musical.

Their family dynamics are also coming across very well, sometimes through very subtle touches.  The differential treatment of Éponine and Azelma vs. Cosette and the way the Thénardier girls have been trained by all the adults around them to see Cosette’s abuse as a hilarious game, Gavroche being conscripted to fill Cosette’s role as household drudge once Valjean takes her, Mme. T slipping a bill out of Thénardier’s stash once he goes after Valjean – it’s all really good.

Their reactions to Valjean were good too.  Mme. Thénardier was thoroughly unimpressed with this roughly dressed man she’d decided was a hobo and only reacted with hostility when he was kind to her little whipping girl, but Thénardier as the criminal mastermind of the outfit decided the moment he noticed Valjean paying inordinate attention to Cosette that he must be a pedophile and they’d stumbled upon a lucrative financial opportunity.  I know some people don’t like this change, but honestly it makes a ton of sense.  Valjean’s interest in Cosette is strange, and considering the usual clientele of the inn cheer whenever Mme. T hits the kid with the strap, the Thénardiers aren’t used to seeing other people regard her plight with compassion.  Unlike in the Brick, this Cosette is a very pretty child, something discernible even beneath the dirt.  And it’s Thénardier, so of course he thinks the worst.  Valjean doesn’t volunteer that he’s representing Fantine (perhaps in this universe where he knows Javert is so fixated on him, he’s worried that would make him too easy to trace?), so really, what else is Thénardier meant to think?

• There are some priceless interactions between the protagonists and Thénardier: when he’s trying to haggle and Valjean keeps ignoring him and just repeating “How much?”; Javert’s baffled “Nothing!” when he asks Javert what Javert is planning to do for him.

• Javert and Gavroche’s preliminary encounter over the coffee cup was a nice, subtle touch.

• A+ hair analogy between Fantine last week and Valjean this week.  A+ removal of the godawful ponytail.  That prison barber in Toulon deserves the Légion d'Honneur.

• I’m enjoying Javert’s meteoric rise at the Prefecture and I love Rivette.  “But Kainosite, you love every long-suffering lieutenant.”  Yes, what’s your point?  Javert deserves a long-suffering lieutenant and so do I.  Although it’s hilarious how much Oyelowovert is Fanfic Javert, in his relationship with his subordinates as much as in everything else.

I also enjoyed Javert’s phrenology skull, which I hope he sometimes monologues at Hamlet-style.  A black Javert might hesitate a little before going all-in on phrenology, but I do appreciate his commitment to cutting-edge criminology research.

• LMAO at Javert’s fanart commission.

• Valjean and little Cosette are adorable together, and I really appreciate how much time Davies devoted to just depicting them interacting and letting the relationship breathe.  The strength of their bond is going to be very important later on, especially to Valjean, so it’s worthwhile to establish it now.  And they were suuuuper cute.  This adaptation tends to cut out Hugo’s humor sections, so it was nice to get a bit of relief from the grimness with endearing family time.

• I rather like Cosette calling people “nosy bitches”.  I mean, who socialized this kid?  The Thénardiers, that’s who.  It makes her seem more like a real child and less like a perfect little doll designed to reward first Valjean and then Marius for fulfilling their roles as protagonists.

It’s also an early hint at Valjean and Cosette’s unhealthy isolation and codependency.  The principal tenant is actually fulfilling her duty of care here in a society without any proper system for child safeguarding.  Cosette never seems to leave the apartment, certainly not to attend school or to learn a trade.  There’s no family resemblance between herself and her guardian.  (Incidentally, I’m impressed by how much Mailow Defoy really does look like the child of Lily Collins and Johnny Flynn.  All the matching between the kids and their “parents” has been superb.)  They give inconsistent stories about their relationship.  And Cosette is, as previously mentioned, an exceptionally pretty child.  The principal tenant should be worried - she doesn’t want Hector Hulot taking up residence in her building, and this pair are deeply suspicious.  But they can’t perceive her attention as legitimate concern, just as an unwarranted and unwanted intrusion into their little idyl.

• Similarly, Valjean’s early worries that he’s isolating Cosette too much by denying her all contact with the outside world or other children her own age are a nice piece of foreshadowing, as is her blithe answer that the only friends she needs are Valjean and Catherine.  Of course she’s content: she has food and warmth and security and the undivided attention of a loving adult.  To a child whose previous experience of the world has been so traumatic, their isolation must seem like paradise.  But this isn’t healthy and it isn’t sustainable, and the show is flagging that up early.  In many adaptations Valjean’s Cosette Issues seem to come out of nowhere, so it’s great that they’re laying the groundwork here.

• The whole “For a dark hunt, a silent pack” sequence is very well done.  There’s a nice piece of foreshadowing with the lamplighter hoisting up a candle as Valjean and Cosette are coming into Paris.  (Most of the Parisian lamps are nice flickery ones, although you do occasionally see those peculiar white ones we saw in Montreuil.)

I also appreciate Davies cutting Valjean’s canonical “Be quiet or Mme. Thénardier will catch you and take you back” line to Cosette from the Brick, which was an awful thing to say to a traumatized child.

• Things continue to look right.  The courtroom setup was really quite good.

The Meh:

• After watching the episode twice I think I finally understand what was going on with Javert at the trial.

His plan to entrap Valjean is no less incredibly stupid and risky than it was last week, but at least Javert has finally realized this.  He looks increasingly worried as each convict gives his testimony and identifies Champmathieu because they’re getting closer and closer to the end of the trial and Valjean still hasn’t acted.  Unlike Étienne in the 1952 movie, Oyelowovert has already testified and perjured himself, so he has no failsafe – if Valjean refuses to take the bait then Champmathieu is condemned in his place, the real Valjean is protected from legal pursuit forever, Javert’s perjury has real, long-term, perverse consequences, and Javert needs to find a new career.  The shock we see on his face when Valjean finally confesses is relief and the shock of seeing a scenario he must have played out a hundred times in his dreams becoming a reality before his eyes, or possibly a consequence of him coming in his pants, not shock at the revelation that Madeleine is Valjean.

But there are few members of the audience who are keener observers of Javert’s face than I am.  Most of those people are probably in the Valvert Discord chat, and none of them could figure out this scene on their first viewing either.  We should not have to analyze Javert’s microexpressions to determine the answer to a question as fundamental as “Did Javert sincerely believe Champmathieu was Valjean?”

• On the whole the trial was bad but I did appreciate Brevet just yanking out his suspender to show the court.  Although @prudencepaccard​ is gonna be mad it wasn’t checkered.

• The amount of time it takes Valjean to escape from Toulon is really of no great importance to anything.  Maybe this Javert gave them specific instructions to search him with care so his files kept getting confiscated and it took him longer to file through his chains.  We know the Orion incident never happened in this universe, so maybe it took two years for Valjean to spot a good escape opportunity.  Who knows?  Who cares?  It has zero impact on the plot.

People concerned about the extra time Cosette was left languishing with the Thénardiers should direct their complaints to Brick Valjean, who faffed around in Montreuil for a month while her mother lay on her deathbed constantly asking for her, and only decided to go pick her up once he was under arrest and it would obviously be impossible.  Davies’ sins pale in comparison to Hugo’s in this regard.  At least Westjean tried to send someone to retrieve her.

• ‘Rosalie’?  Okay, fine, but I’m not sure why this adaptation feels compelled to give everyone first and last names.  Thénardier could just call her ‘Darling’.

• I know they also abandon Catherine in the Brick, but in the Brick Valjean doesn’t pause in their flight to pack the candlesticks, the objects that are precious to him, and Cosette doesn’t specifically ask about bringing her.  Put the pillow under the blankets to fake out Javert like a normal person and let your child keep the one toy she’s ever had, what the fuck is wrong with you, Valjean?

On the other hand, the doll is made of dead people and it may be possessed, so perhaps this was just responsible parenting.  I’m calling it a draw.

• It’s not that I have any great objections to giving Simplice more screen time or letting the Mother Superior of the Petit-Picpus convent decide to shelter a convict, but there was no particular reason not to use Fauchelevent for the Fauchelevent plotline.  It’s a small instance of a good deed being paid forward that underlines the main theme of the book, as does Simplice’s act of self-sacrifice in lying to Javert to protect Valjean.  All of that has been lost and nothing has been gained in its place.  (Also is Cosette just... “Cosette Valjean” in this adaptation?  “Cosette Thibault”?)

The Bad:

• If Javert perjures himself to trap Valjean that is an incredibly big deal and we should see it.  I accept that this Javert might do it: Oyelowovert cares about his career and about ruining the lives of criminals, not about the rules.  If he can trap Valjean, superb.  If Champmathieu ends up in the galleys because of it, well, he’s a filthy apple thief and he deserves it.  Javert is subverting the course of justice in the service of a greater social justice.  But this monumental deviation from his Brick characterization, this enormously consequential lie, should not occur off-camera, for fuck’s sake!

Also it’s not clear what reason a Javert who is happy to lie under oath would ever have to throw himself into the Seine.

• Why the hell was Valjean so hostile to the other convicts?  He assumes they’ve been paid off, but... by whom, and to what purpose?  By Javert, to entrap him?  We the viewers at least know that can’t be true – Javert only found out about Champmathieu from the Prefecture, after Champmathieu had already been identified as Valjean.  By the public prosecutor at Arras, who is desperate to close the case of a minor highway robbery that happened almost a decade ago on the other side of the country completely outside his jurisdiction?  By the many enemies of Champmathieu the random hobo, who really want to see him go down for a felony?  It makes absolutely no sense.

Possibilities that make more sense: a) the convicts are sincerely mistaken about the appearance of a guy they’ve not seen in eight years, b) they just wanted to get out of Toulon for a month and they’re willing to say anything to do it because Toulon is a hellhole, as the first episode made exceedingly clear, c) they know perfectly well Champmathieu is not Valjean and they’re lying to protect the liberty of their old comrade by condemning a stranger in his place.  The whole dynamic of this scene – Madeleine, the respected mayor and factory owner, who’s been clean and well-fed and safe for years, yelling at these filthy men in their convict uniforms, Chenildieu with some kind of open wound across his forehead, quite possibly a lash mark – is deeply unpleasant.  It makes Valjean look like a complete asshole and sets a sour tone for the whole episode.

• The entire trial is just off.  Valjean’s off-putting and inexplicable hostility to his fellow convicts, Javert’s mystifying facial expressions, the audience who keep laughing at unfunny lines – the scene just doesn’t work, it doesn’t come together.  It was at something of a disadvantage because I came into it having just watched the 1952 trial scene for the previous episode’s review post, which is the best ever adaptation of the Champmathieu trial, and any other version was likely to pale by comparison.  But this one was particularly poor.

• I said last week we’d have to see what the series made of Valjean’s externalization of his emotions.  Well, what it has made is an awful lot of shouting at everyone, starting with the poor convicts and continuing from there, and also an excess of violence.  Valjean charges into the soldiers in Montreuil-sur-Mer and bowls them over, he threatens to knock Thénardier down and then to blow his head off, he gets Thénardier into a headlock and grapples with him.  Even when Westjean is coming into the convent he has to practically break down the doors.  Everything is violent action with him.  It’s OOC to the point where it’s becoming a problem rather than merely a different interpretation of the character.

All this aggression isn’t even effective at making him seem dangerous!  The thing he does in 1978 where he gently removes Javert’s hand from his collar is vastly more intimidating because it showcases his superhuman strength.  He should have just plucked the gun out of Thénardier’s hand like he was taking it away from a child instead of all this undignified scuffling.

• Tumblr, a humble reviewer has failed in accuracy, and I have come to bring this matter to your attention, as is my duty.

I argued last week that Westjean is not a misogynist: he yells at everyone in his vicinity regardless of gender.  Well, you were right and I was wrong.  That menacing lunge he takes towards Victurnien while screaming at her, calling Mme. Thénardier “woman” and shouting at her to bring his supper, the way he bursts in on the nuns at the end – it all adds up to something pretty unpleasant.

• I have never in my life seen an adaptation that makes Fantine’s death so much about Jean Valjean’s manpain.

If you look a 1978, an adaptation that gives if possible negative fucks about Fantine, it still manages to make the confrontation over her deathbed a conversation between three people, in which she has agency and reacts to what people are saying and is present in some capacity other than that of an object to make Valjean sad.  Someone compared Collinstine to a substitute Coin of Shame, and I think that’s really apt: Valjean is distressed and guilty because he’s failed to rescue Cosette, so he goes to Fantine’s bedside to sear the image of her despairing face onto his retinas in the same way he seared the imprint of Petit Gervais’s forty sous onto his palm.  He’s punishing himself by deliberately upsetting her.  For both Valjean and the camera, this scene is all about Valjean’s feelings and not about Fantine’s.

The person in this room with the biggest problems is not Jean Valjean, for pity’s sake.  I like to see the man cry as much as the next fangirl, but this was vile.

• Valjean’s visit to Fantine on her deathbed is a stupid, irresponsible thing to do and a direct cause of her unhappy death in the Brick and in every adaptation where she survives long enough for Javert to turn up. Valjean knows he has no good news to give her, he knows that the criminal justice system will be after him sooner or later, he knows that having Fantine and Javert together in the same room is a phenomenally bad idea, and he has urgent business in Montfermeil, or if he’s resolved to stay in Montreuil-sur-Mer to await arrest then he urgently needs to designate some representative to go and pick up Cosette in his place.  Instead he loiters by a sick woman’s bedside until Javert shows up and predictably traumatizes her to death.  As a result, Fantine dies in misery and Cosette suffers under the Thénardiers for another year.

But in the Brick it was at least not an insane thing to do.  When he left Arras he was not being pursued, and he reached Montreuil well ahead of the news about the trial.  The magistrates in Arras were in two minds about how to handle the situation.  Given Madeleine’s status, the widespread affection and admiration for him in the region, and the fact that he turned himself in, it’s not inconceivable that had it not been for his little Bonapartist slip in the courtroom, they wouldn’t have issued a warrant for his arrest at all and would simply have sent him a summons to appear at the Var Assizes to stand trial, or directed him to surrender himself at the prison in Montreuil rather than sending Javert after him.  I’m not sure it’s likely, given that he’s a known flight risk and parole violator illegally occupying a public office and they seem keen to get their hands on his fortune, but it’s not inconceivable.

In this adaptation Valjean breaks away from the police in the street and leads them straight to Fantine’s deathbed.  There is no fucking excuse for this.  NONE.  Brick Valjean was a fool to come at all and a bigger fool to stage a massive confrontation with Javert while he was still in the infirmary, but his mistakes were those of a man under immense stress who never bothered to think about Javert long enough to construct a working psychological profile of him.  Westjean’s mistakes were the mistakes of a selfish asshole too caught up in his own feelings of guilt and shame to have any regard for the people he allegedly cares about and wants to help.  Valjean is an extreme deontologist and his actions are always self-absorbed to a certain degree, because they’re fundamentally more about whether he can feel he’s done the right thing than about the actual effects of his actions on other people.  (He and Brickvert have that in common.)  But it should never get to the point where he’s actively harming people to this extent.

• Brickvert doesn’t seem to care for firearms much, and Oyelowovert looks like a jackass waving his two giant pistols around, but he’s a different character and if he’s decided they make him look cool then fine, I guess.  But in that case he should not be intimidated by Valjean’s strength in the infirmary.  You have guns, idiot!  If he threatens you just shoot him in the leg!

Guns completely change the dynamics of this scene, as the Dallas staging of the musical conveys very well.  The BBC handed Javert some pistols and then forgot he had them.

• In 1862 people would probably have found the implication that Catherine has Fantine’s hair to be sweet and charming, because the Victorians loved toting bits of their dead relatives around and hair mementos were so common that no one would have considered it weird.  In 2019 it is CREEPY AND GROSS.  I know there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism but we did not need to know that Cosette’s doll was made from the body parts of desperately impoverished and now dead women, really.

• Oh, so we’re flipping over beds when we fail to catch our favorite fugitive convict now, are we?  Great, now everyone is yelling.  FFS, Javert, I thought you were supposed to be the emotionally continent one.

• Where was Marius this week???  If Davies was happy to cut that leg of the stool out of whole episodes then why the fuck not just let Georges die when he’s supposed to and let Marius have a coherent character arc?  It makes no sense whatsoever.

I’ve got to be honest, I was not a fan of this episode.  But it did get Valjean and Cosette’s relationship right, and that is the most important relationship in the story.

[svnbursted]

[ resting on Heather’s bed in her apartment is a box of chocolates in the shape of a heart, paired with a note attached to the box, and a bag resting beside it with a couple scented candles inside ]

Hi, baby

I took the opportunity while you left early this morning to set this up. I snuck these in with my massive purse last night after we had our talk, you know, on the roof…

Love has always been terrifying for me and I think I was always afraid of falling. You already know my reasons for running now, and while I’m terrified of losing you in some catastrophic way like everyone else…

Some people are worth taking risks for, a certain squirrel girl that lives next door to you taught me that– perhaps you should be thanking her. If it were anyone else, even if it had been Diego who spoke those words to me before he was on his deathbed…  I would have run away. I never would have hesitated. Do you believe in the universe giving signs? You know, how your brother talked about his wife at the housewarming party, says they’re soulmates– Coraline rolls her eyes a little, like she doesn’t quite believe Cyrek, but you can see that she feels it even if she doesn’t like to admit it. 

Maybe I hesitated because we were meant to be together.

Sounds kind of lame when I write it down.

I really do love you. Or I would never have stayed. Even before you told me genuinely. So… I had actually picked these up to try to show you I loved you. Hope you like the candles.

See you tonight?

Love,

Ana

(ahem yes i know you still have a dumb chicken submission from me but please allow me to dump some submissions in your inboxes in order to brighten your day a bit <3 take your time w/ everything, i just wanted to uhh do something nice!)

Last night had been—surreal, almost dreamlike, the dreams she would have gorged periodically before the more calamitious lumps of her mind started to catch up; an evening varnished in city lights and raw tear-barred confessions that had revealed their vulnerabilities and fears and sides they often kept padlocked from the outside. She’d watched the redhead throughout their whole exchange - how she’d unfurled, delicate but not weak, showing a few scars that weren’t visible on her skin, the girl who could turn heads with one simple look but so starved of actual affection, of love, something which the blonde had been harboring for her ever since they’d begun to waste nights together, slowly unfolding like an ancient love letter, slowly becoming a part each other’s lives without her realizing it until she’d spilled everything out through drunken teeth then doing it again with a much clearer cognizance and planning to keep doing it until the redhead grew to get sick of her or her words or sloppy attempts at affection, maybe, or maybe her own throat dried out, limbs slumping cracked and fallen, because the last thing she wanted was for Ana to feel alone knowing exactly how tormenting that could be - because she wanted her to know she meant her words and she’d be there every step of the way if she asked her to. Ana was devoid of love declarations from others whereas Heather bore a magnitude of them, caged underneath a scarred front from tarnished relationships and past.

Ana seemed to have beaten her on the first round, though. She returned to her apartment for a couple of hours break before she had to go out again to ensure none of the children at the shack were murdering one another, and discovered the note and bag on her bed. Heather picked the note first, eyes following and turning tender, like she was still dreaming, like the same old mantra of god I don’t deserve this I don’t deserve you still lurked behind her shoulders and she had to swallow the lump in her throat, how long had it been since the last time she’d felt like this? It was kind of funny how some people who’d announced that they would never ever abandon her, her biological brother was the prime example of it, had easily left and lacerated all communications, but this one fucking girl who’d always doubted about her belonging, tried to stay, wanted to stay. Even if they had to separate, that reminder alone had planted a mark, a red petal in the midst of thorns. She placed the chocolate on her work table, deciding to phone her girlfriend instead of texting her, knowing she was busy and it would go to voicemail - but that was what she was aiming for.

“You’re so old-fashioned you literally wrote me a fucking love letter, you fuckin’ breast. How the fuck am I supposed to one-up this?” she spoke once the thing was on, playful at first - but then her strained, whispering voice that came afterward showed how affected she was, hoped she could hear her growing smile. “But no, really, Ana, I appreciate it. The chocolate and the candles and everything you’ve showed and given me, and for not making me - feel so fucking terrified anymore. You know? I’d been avoidant last year when it came to love, felt like I was just some fucked up piece of shit who’d just tear everything apart - I wasn’t worth loving again, didn’t even feel like I’d belong anywhere, but then you fuckin’ came in, and you kept showing up at my place and in my head and you keep saying shit like this, like maybe I’mworth taking risks for and that just… changes everything. I meant it when I said you didn’t have to go through life alone anymore. If you wanted to go, and you’d like me to come, I would. I was scared of falling too, red, still kind of am - but if you let me, I’ll make sure to catch you everytime you do.” She heaved out a breath, softly, “I love you. Stay safe until I get there tonight, okay? I’m gonna need the handler of Thelma and Louise to finish up these goodies.”

@anabvlle

[ahmerjohnny-blog]

Attitude Quotes And Status (Latest Collection)

https://www.aswadwrites.in/attitude-quotes-and-status/

Attitude Quotes And Status (Latest Collection)

Attitude Quotes

A style is a reflection of your attitude and your personality. If you don’t like something, change it. I believe if you keep your faith, you keep your trust, you keep the right attitude, if you’re grateful, you’ll see God open up new doors. A positive attitude quotes can really make dreams come true – it did for me.

Attitude. Being sexy is all about attitude, not body type. People may hear your words, but they feel your attitude. Adopting the right attitude can convert a negative stress into a positive one. Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference. Each day, I come in with a positive attitude, trying to get better.

Read This:

A list of the best attitude quotes and sayings, including the names of each speaker or author when available. This list is sorted by popularity, so only the most famous attitude quotes are at the top. The authors of these historic attitude quotes are displayed next to each quote, so if you see one you like be sure to check out other inspirational attitude quotes from that same writer.

This list answers the questions, “What are the best quotes about attitude?” and “What are inspirational attitude quotes?” This list includes notable attitude quotes by various authors, writers, playwrights, speakers, politicians, athletes, poets, and more. Vote on your favorites so that the greatest attitude quotes rise to the top, as the order of the list changes dynamically based on votes. Don’t let your favorite attitude sayings get to the bottom of the list.

Best Attitude Quotes Collection

“How we think shows through in how we act. Attitudes are mirrors of the mind. They reflect thinking.”

“Ability is what you’re capable of doing. Motivation determines what you do. Attitude determines how well you do it.”

“I am a part of all that I have met.”

“Attitude is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Optimism is a choice. Kindness is a choice. Giving is a choice. Respect is a choice. Whatever choice you make makes you. Choose wisely.”

“If you have a dream, don’t just sit there. Gather courage to believe that you can succeed and leave no stone unturned to make it a reality.”

“Be an independent thinker at all times, and ignore anyone who attempts to define you in a limiting way.”If you build the guts to do something, anything, then you better save enough to face the consequences.”

“Keep a little fire burning; however small, however, hidden.”

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”

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“People may hear your words, but they feel your attitude.”

“Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude.”

“It is our attitude at the beginning of a difficult task which, more than anything else, will affect Its successful outcome.”

“I am still determined to be cheerful and happy, in whatever situation I may be; for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions, and not upon our circumstances.”

“A ‘positive attitude’ is definitely one of the keys to success. My definition of a positive attitude is a simple one: Looking for the good in all circumstances.”

Attitude Quotes For Boys

Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye.

ATTITUDE is everything.

Follow your heart but don’t be stupid.

The best thing about being me, I’m a limited edition and there are no other copies!

Mistakes are proof that you’re trying.

I love my job only when I’m on vacation.

Fashion is something that comes from within you.

I never make the same mistake twice. I make it five or six times, just to be sure.

My parents should be proud of me because I’m addicted to Facebook, not to Drugs!

I always dream of being a millionaire like my uncle…He’s dreaming too.

Phones are better than girlfriends, at least we can switch off.

My words are like a china phone. They have no guarantee!

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Dream big and dare to fail.

I love to walk in the fog because nobody knows I’m smoking.

I talk to myself because I like dealing with a better class of people.

Not all men are fools, some stay bachelor.

I might not be someone’s first choice, but I am a great choice. I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not because I’m good at being me. However, I might not be proud of some of the things I’ve done in the past, but I’m proud of who I am today. I may not be perfect, but I don’t need to be. I am the way God made me. Take me as I am or watch me as I walk away.

Love me or hate me I’m still gonna shine.

There can be no positive result through negative attitude. Think positive. Live positive.

Like me for who I am and not for who you want me to be. Take it or leave it. That simple.

Attitude Quotes For Girls

I am so damn poor that I cannot even afford to pay attention to stupid people.

If you want a girl to treat you like a King you have to make her a Queen first.

Honest girlfriends are rare to find, hard to be abandoned and impossible to forget.

The saying “Behind a successful man is a surprised woman.” is quite wrong; so I corrected it and made it “Behind a successful man is a supportive and smart woman.”

Rivals of a jealous boy come and go but rivals of jealous woman remain and continue to build up.

A woman can deal the unbearable stress and lift heavy burdens. She gives her sweetest smile even if she feels like screaming and she sings in an angelic voice when she feels like crying. Tears fell from her eyes when she is happy and laugh when she is scared. Her love is priceless and unconditional. There is only one thing wrong with her; she always forgets what she is worth.

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Never ever dare to underestimate the power of a woman’s intuition and instinct. She can recognize a game before you even play it.

A little black dress is one of the girl’s best friends.

I am smart, I am lovely, I am strong and I am enough.

The greatest thing a woman can do is to love herself, be herself and shine amongst those who never believed that she could.

If you want to have a good body then stop wishing for you to magically have it. Work hard for it.

Every time you put yourself down, you are causing damage to your confidence to try harder not to.

Do whatever makes you happy so that you will not have any regrets on your deathbed.

Attitude Quotes For Facebook Status

“I don’t hate Peoples, I just love Peoples who love me.”

“A bad attitude is plane tire if you not change it you can never think positive!”

“I am not a special Person, But I am just limited edition.”

“Stop checking my Status, Go and love your Girlfriend”

“Life is too short Don’t waste it updating status!”

“Status Unavailable! Check Later!…” “I’m not insulting you. I’m describing you.”

 “Be happy and smile when you’re around people who hate you. Your happiness will kill them.”

 “People always say that nothing is impossible. That’s not true. I do nothing every single day.”

 “I was cool – until global warming made me hot.”

 “No positive results can come from negative attitudes. Always think positive and always live positive.”

 “Love me for who I am – not what you want me to be. Take me or leave me. It’s that simple.”

 “If you face the sun, you’ll never see your shadow.”

 “Look – I’m only responsible for the words that come out of my mouth. I’m not responsible for you not understanding them.”

 “I really don’t care what you think about me. Unless you think I’m awesome. In that case – you’re totally right. Carry on!”

A positive attitude gives you power over your circumstances instead of your circumstances having power over you.

Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well.

The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitude.

The funniest thing in class is when the teacher cracks a joke and no one laughs.

When your ex-asks if you can still be friends right after a breakup, it’s like having a kidnapper tell you to keep in touch.Bad Attitude Quotes

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The soul does not absorb negativity by accident, always by choice.

Too many people miss the silver lining because they’re expecting gold.

If you are not enjoying the journey, you probably won’t enjoy the destination.

Unhappiness is best defined as the difference between our talents and our expectations.

To be wronged is nothing unless you continue to remember it.

Nothing is interesting if you’re not interested.

A bad attitude is like a flat tire. You can’t go anywhere until you change it.

“Protect your good image from the eyes of negative viewers, who may look at your good appearance with an ugly fiendish eye, and ruin your positive qualities with their chemical infested tongues.”

“It would be easy to become a victim of our circumstances and continue feeling sad, scared or angry; or instead, we could choose to deal with injustice humanely and break the chains of negative thoughts and energies, and not let ourselves sink into it.”

“A negative attitude drains, a positive attitude energizes.”

“You have the ability to control your thoughts.”

“There is too much negativity in the world. Do your best to make sure you aren’t contributing to it.”

“I’m half good and I’m half bad. My mama is a very good girl and my daddy is a very bad boy. And I guess that leaves me somewhere sort of…here.”

“You’re a bad girl, trying to force me over the edge But you don’t have to. I’m already there. I’m already lost in you.”

“A bad attitude can literally block love, blessings, and destiny of finding you.”

Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.

Attitude Quotes For Whatsapp

Being this fabulous is a full-time job.

I’m afflicted with Awesome. There’s no curing it.

You can merely hope to be me.

Of course, I’m only pretending to like you.

Nice try, but you’re still not ME.

It would just be ‘awesome’ without ME.

I hate it when I’m hugging someone amazing and my face bangs into the mirror.

Of course, I’m odd. I’m Number One, you see.

I love you. But I love me more.

Diplomacy is for those who aren’t witty enough to be sarcastic.

Sugar coating just ain’t my style.

If I don’t remember it, it didn’t happen.

Don’t know. Don’t care. Never will.

Well, hello there WhatsApp stalker! How go the frequent status checks?

I really am ruggedly handsome, aren’t I?

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I solemnly swear I’m the best!

It ain’t happy if it’s not my birthday.

You make it difficult for me to be nice.

An ugly personality destroys a pretty face.

I don’t need to explain myself because I know I’m right.

If people are trying to bring you ‘Down’. It only means that you are ‘Above them’.

When you care about someone, their happiness matters more than yours…!!

Beauty is like Moon, looks much better at Night…

The greatest pleasure in life is doing the things, people say you can’t

The only disability in life is a bad attitude.

Life will give you exactly what you need, not what you want

The biggest slap to your enemies is your success.

Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.

If a word in the dictionary were misspelled, how would we know?

Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.

I don’t have time to hate people, who hate me. Because I’m too busy in loving people who love me.

Attitude Quotes In Hindi

सही को सही और गलत को गलत कहने की हिम्मत रखता हूँ… इसीलिए आजकल रिश्ते कम रखता हूँ 😏

मयखाने का दौर गया जनाब ! लहू का दौर चल रहा है …..😎 😏

attitude का वो नशा चढ़ा है मुझपर जो ना उतरेगा , शख़्सियत भले ही मिट जाए पर ये बन्दा किसी के आगे नहीं झुकेगा 😎😎

दिलों में मतलब और ज़ुबान से प्यार करते हैं, बहुत से लोग दुनिया में यही कारोबार करते हैं 😏 😏

ज़रा सी कोशिश करूँ तो मेरी उमीदों को हौंसला मिले और ज़रा सा attitude में जीऊँ तो पता नहीं दुनिया क्यों मुझसे जले 😏 😎 😏

मेरा जो रुतबा कल था , वो आज भी है और कल भी रहेगा , कैलेंडर नहीं attitude है मेरा जो साल के साथ बदलता नहीं 😎😎

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हमारा #Style और #Attitude ही कुछ #अलग है,

#बराबरी करोगे तो #बिक जाओगे

तेरी अकड़ की रस्सी जल जायेगी क्योंकि मेरी पकड़ में आग है.

जब तक आप ऑक्सीजन नहीं हैं, हां, मैं आपके साथ रह सकता हूं

जीवन हिट तुम मुश्किल लेकिन यह आपको तीन सेकंड लेता है अगर आप सुपरहीरो हैं या नहीं मैं हूँ ।

बदसूरत व्यक्तितव सुन्दर चहरे को नष्ट कर देता है।

उस लड़के को ढूंढो जो आपको अपने माता-पिता से मिलने के लिए घर ले जाएगा, न कि उनके बेडरूम

लड़के के 80% लड़कियों के दोस्त हैं .. सबसे कम 20% मस्तिष्क होने हैं 😉

मैं जीवन में एक बिंदु तक पहुंच गया हूं जहां मुझे लगता है कि किसी को भी कोशिश करने और प्रभावित करने की आवश्यकता नहीं है। यदि वे मुझे पसंद करते हैं, मैं अच्छा हूँ, और अगर वे नहीं करते, यह उनका नुकसान है

कुछ लोग इतने नकली हैं कि यदि आप ठीक से देख रहे हैं तो अपनी गर्दन के पीछे, आपको “मैड इन चाइना” कहकर एक टैग मिलेगा 😀

Quotes On Attitude And Love

“Our future cannot depend on the government alone. The ultimate solutions lie in the attitudes and the actions of the American people.”

“Some men have Hundreds of reasons why they cannot do what they want to when all they need is one reason why they can.”

“Always look at what you have left. Never look at what you have lost in Life.”

“I don’t have an attitude! I have a personality you can’t handle at all.”

Love is like war… Easy to start, difficult to finish and impossible to forget.

 The spaces between your fingers are meant to be filled with mine.

Love is like a bar of soap, once you think you have it, it slips away.

Somewhere there’s someone who dreams of your smile and finds in your presence that life is worthwhile, so when you are lonely remember it’s true somebody somewhere is thinking of you.

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I m a puzzle, which u can’t solve

I don’t need to #show_off

Because they know what I’m and what I have.

Tom N Jerry taught me that life is boring….without ENEMY’S

No time for Fake and Negative People’s.

Take me as I am, not as you wish me to be.

I don’t wanna perfect life. I wanna happier life.

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous.”

“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.”

“Don’t wish for a good body, work for it.”

“I am strong, I am beautiful, I am enough.”

“Who is a girl??? A girl is the most beautiful part of God’s creation. Respect every lady in your life. You will never know what she has sacrificed for you.”

“I am a crafty girl, I make things, lots of things.”

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