#mr hale

[nasty-bog-boy]

there's just something about Mr Hale in North and South that upsets me so much! there are other characters in Elizabeth Gaskell's work that treat people worse than he does but something about his actions and character in particular truly set something off in me.

i understand having a crisis of faith and therefore finding yourself unable to continue in the church, but the fact he keeps it a secret the whole time that he is wrestling with this from his beloved wife angers me. in leaving the church their family lose their income and their home and he makes this decision entirely independently without consulting either his wife or his daughter who depend on him entirely.

he knows this decision will break his already depressed wife, but he's unable to actually face the consequences of his actions. so he asks his teenage daughter whose life is also getting upended to tell her mother about his own decisions. he's made a decision to change their lives for the worse and can't even face his own wife about it!

i think in media the characters we have the most intense feelings of hatred towards are often the more mundane ones because they're closer to our lives. we might not have any personal experience with mass murderers or someone who wants to destroy the universe but we probably have met someone who says cruel things or refuses to face their actions head on.

i just really struggle with Mr Hale. hes both pathetic and genuinely destructive. in leaving the church he makes his family homeless and destitute and he's too cowardly to tell them.

unfortunately i hate him!!!!!

[didanagy]

North and South (2004)

Episode 4.

dir. brian percival

[lothiriel84]

I'm sorry, but if you're spineless enough to make a life-changing decision that will heavily impact your family all the while keeping this information from them until the very last moment, you should at least have the decency to INFORM YOUR WIFE YOURSELF RATHER THAN ASKING YOUR CHILD TO DO IT IN YOUR STEAD.

[mellpenscorner]

Jane Austen: and here we have the love interest. He might have some issues, but once you get to know him, he's a great guy. Good looking, heart of gold, the works.

Charlotte Brontë: get ready for the weirdest man you have ever met.

[reveluving]

a little more love ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: when two of the most fearsome werewolves do whatever they can to convince their beloved to cancel dinner night with the pups.

warnings: loads of kisses, hugs and but no s~mut. not yet, at least (still, minors DNI!), very cheesy ngl; peter & deuc just really love their vampire wifey <3

a/n: omg a debut?? s/o to @fanficimagery​; their Peter fics + others are the reasons why I wrote this—awakening another wild side of of mine to the point of no return (affectionately) 😭 I got another one in the making tho, trust! love y’all and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

'Though Deuc and Peter chimed in once in a while, the pack could tell they were giving you most of the spotlight.' ;

The sound of blackbirds chirping outside your window was enough to wake you up from your slumber. You stirred but could barely move with the arm around you and pulling you close. Their chest rose and fell at a pace so relaxing, so comforting, it could've lulled you back to sleep right away.

"Did you sleep well?" You shivered at the voice, deep and barely awake, forcing you to crack one eye open. You craned your neck, welcoming the very sight of the man holding you dearly. You hummed, eliciting a chuckle out of him as you nuzzled into him.

"You're so comfy." You murmured, the silky sheets against your skin would've been more than enough to chain you to bed for another hour or two.

Too bad you had other plans.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" You blinked, noticing the hues ranging from orange to pink coming from the window, an indication that sunset was nearing faster than you had anticipated.

"You looked so peaceful." Deuc responded casually as if you hadn't promised the pack dinner night, which was happening in two hours.

"I didn't even hear the alarm." You blindly took your phone on the nightstand, finding it impossible for you to sleep through one in the first place.

But, Deuc's sudden lack of response told you everything you needed to know.

So, you placed your phone away before turning to him.

"Deuc," He hummed, "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No?"

"Deuc!"

He barely opened his eyes to look at you before huffing out a 'yes'.

"Can't we just order takeout?"

"Even they can do that from their own home," You grinned, poking his cheek, "And you know no one delivers to this side of the road past seven."

"Then we could always just order now and ask one of them to pick it up later," He was hell-bent on making you stay, the offer especially enticing when he pulled the covers over you with him, "Or better yet, ask him to pick it up and make himself useful for once."

You snorted, only to jump when fingers lightly traced your spine.

"Hey," You admonished lightly, "Behave."

"You can't expect a man to behave when he has such beauty in his arms." He slipped his hand under the blanket, "Come on, all you have to do is cancel it, and we'll make sure to take such good care of you."

You whined, squirming in his arms as though you were fighting your inner demons before sitting up, but not before covering your bare chest with the blanket.

"Nice try, handsome, but I’m not falling for your tricks." You pointed directly at his nose, only to sputter when he countered your sudden determination by nipping the tip of your index finger.

"Angel, you always do," Touché, "The pups can fend for themselves for another day, can't they?"

"Deuc," You sighed shaking your head in amusement; you could never get mad at him. You turned your head a little, kissing his palm before caressing his cheek with your free hand, "I haven't seen them for over a week, God knows whether or not they've taken care of themselves since. It's only for a couple of hours, I promise."

Deuc narrowed his eyes at you, trying not to give in to your puppy eyes.

But he knew better.

He let his head fall to the pillow, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Alright, alright," You perked up, only to be caught off guard when he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you down to him for a heated kiss, taking your breath away as his tongue lightly ran across the tip of your fangs. Your whimpers only motivated him to take back his own words and never let you leave the bed, but he loved you too much to say no.

He pulled away, satisfied with the way you looked back at him with wide eyes.

"You didn't think I'd expect some sort of return if I'm going to have to keep my hands to myself for a few hours?"

Puffing up your cheeks in embarrassment, you were barely able to maintain eye contact as intense as his before giving him a quick peck at the lips.

"Angel," He chuckled, "If that's the kind of payment you're planning to give, I'd expect at least a couple more."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Very much," He responded nonchalantly as though he wasn't practically basking in your reactions, "In fact, I could wake up to this every day."

There was no point arguing with this man, not especially when you had dinner to whip up in under two hours. So, you took a deep breath, lowering yourself for a proper kiss. Deuc was eager, that much was clear as he chased after your lips, keeping you still with one hand on the back of your head.

He shivered as you lightly ran your nails down his chest, slowly pulling away before letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Much better."

It had taken Deuc exactly a good half an hour to get his fill of you before begrudgingly letting you go to take a shower, promising to help you out right after.

You, on the other hand, have been at it in the kitchen for an hour, seasoning your stroganoff before moving on with the dessert.

Just then, you froze, feeling a pair of eyes from the living room watching your every move. You slowly placed the bowl of unwhipped cream onto the counter, hoping to look as neutral as possible. The presence, however, had seen right through you, because as soon as you faced the entrance to the foyer, you felt their warm breath against your neck before they spun you around. You yelped, feeling yourself fall backwards despite their hands securely holding onto your hips.

Your hands shot up to their back, one around his neck and the other gripping the back of their shirt. Had it been anyone else, other than Deuc, you would've instinctively torn their throat out even before they could even put their hands on you.

But, this was Peter you were talking about.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

‘You've got to be kidding me.’

"Jesus, Hale," He was clearly proud of himself, the debonair smile on his face especially growing when you released the grip on his shirt in favour of covering a part of your face, thoroughly embarrassed, "That is by far the worst line I've ever heard, coming from you."

"Oh, I know," He shrugged, leaning in closer, "But it's worth seeing that pretty face of yours scrunch up like that."

He pressed his lips against yours before you could even respond with a snarky remark, pulling away just as fast in favour of the adorable stupefied look you always had each time he or Deuc had taken you by surprise.

"But it does smell good in here." He brought up back up from the dip before taking a good whiff of your homemade gravy in the pot.

"Only the best for the best," You mused, hearing him purr in agreement for a moment before adding, "Oh, and for you too, I guess."

He was speechless, to say the least. At least for a while.

"Why, you," He didn't even give you the time to turn away before he attacked your neck and collarbone with wet kisses, the exaggerated sounds of his smooches growing louder the more you cried out to him to stop.

He did, eventually, but he made sure he gave you enough to sag in his arms, resting against him for a moment as he mumbled against your cold skin.

"Would be nice if we had the night to ourselves." Oh. You covered your face yet again, now with both of your hands.

"Not you too," You felt the chuckle vibrating through him, "You and Deuc planned this, didn't you?"

"Depends," He drawled, clearly feigning ignorance, "Is it working?"

Fuck yeah, it is.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that."

Big mistake.

Your mouth gaped open wide as though you had surprised yourself, knowing he had taken your statement as a challenge when he pursed his lips.

"Challenge accepted."

You squeaked as he pulled you to his chest, one of his hands remained on your hips while raising the other that he intertwined with yours. You were sure his eyes had dilated, enjoying the way you bashfully look up at him through your lashes, gasping as soon as his hand crept up past the hem of your shirt.

"Peter," You giggled nervously, "Where is that hand going?"

He hummed.

"Places."

Just then, he switched directions, sliding further down before moving under the waistband of your shorts.

"Places where I'd want to touch," Down, "To kiss," Up, "To lick," Down, "To nibble on."

Each time his hands move, no matter where they ended up, all you could do was shiver. He dipped his head, nibbling on your earlobe.

"If and only if my angel says so."

He was seeking your permission—just like Deuc did.

"I want to," Oh? "But later, okay?" Oh. You tried not to giggle as he deflated from your answer, "Especially since the two of you haven't made it any easier for me to say no today."

Not that you'd ever deny these two whatsoever.

"Please?" You cupped his face, thinking through your next words before mumbling, "Just hold on for a few hours and I'm all yours and Deuc's."

His eyes dilated from the mere promise, holding onto both of your hands and pulling you in to capture your lips with his. It was as deep and passionate as the one you had with Deuc, your legs nearly buckled if it wasn't for his quick reflex.

"Pretty girl, you'll be the death of me."

The audacity.

"Oh, like you're any better," You rolled your eyes playfully, "Now, you either help me with the potatoes or take these plates and march out to the dining room."

He opted for the potatoes, occasionally leaving kisses on your shoulders and nearly causing you to burn the caramel sauce that you were making to pair with your homemade ice cream.

Deuc came down to the kitchen a little while later, only to shoot a glare at Peter for putting him on dishes duty. You saw the way Peter smirked as Deuc stalked out, dropping his expression to a barely innocent kind when he noticed you watching him.

"A grump, let me tell you," Peter commented, not bothering to lower his voice and earning himself a growl from the other room. You silently giggled before pushing him lightly.

Quarter past seven, and you walked out to serve the big pot of stroganoff and a whole bunch of sides in the dining room, where Deuc had just finished wiping the last cutlery. As soon as he did, he wrapped one arm around you, resting his head against your tummy. You could tell he was a little miffed over the petty arrangement, so you leaned in and kissed the crown of his head a couple of times, drawing a soft laugh from him.

No doubt Peter had seen you trying to cheer Deuc up and would probably cage you in his arms until you do the same for him.

A couple of hugs and hundreds more kisses later, the pack finally arrived, their exhaustion from surviving the week palpable as they greeted you with hugs or the Hale's exchanging meaningful pleasantries with you.

Deuc and Peter watched as your face continued to light up, from scooping a generous portion of noodles and stroganoff to listening to each and every one of them about the rough week they all had. Though Deuc and Peter chimed in once in a while, the pack could tell they were giving you most of the spotlight. This dinner was your idea, after all, treating the pack with the endless amount of love you had to offer. They only helped you out, though they'd gladly accept your gratitude at any given moment.

You were not blind to the looks they gave you either, so soft, even you didn't think they were capable of such emotion. You've either looked away or rushed out to the kitchen to 'top up the necessary' as a poor excuse to shy away from their gazes.

Soon, things began to calm down, and you shooed the pack to the living room, but not before being bombarded by offers to do the dishes. You gave in, eventually, and as soon as the final plate was washed, you pointed to the living room, much to everyone’s amusement.

Besides Deuc and Peter, who were helping you with the leftovers, everyone else started doing their own thing in the meantime; Scott, Stiles and Lydia were already lying on your rug, Malia and Kira were looking at your bookshelf, ranging from interesting novels with odd titles to the fishbowl of Marimo moss balls, because you wanted a ‘pet’ that ‘understood you best’.

None of the pack understood you till this day, not until Kira pointed out that Marimo moss balls survived best in low light, and you heard the rest of the pack answer with a collective ‘ooh’.

Derek, just like his cousin, had been doing the same, but from the comforts of the couch he was lounging on instead. Though he was the only one on his own, he seemed to be at peace, the deep wrinkles usually etched in between his eyebrows nowhere to be seen as dinner finally caught up to him. All in all, everyone was looking and feeling much better when they first arrived, but you couldn’t blame them. They were carrying responsibilities that were thrice as heavy as an average teenager.

Basically, you were glad to see them finally taking a load off.

The relief you were practically giving off to both Peter and Deuc was endearing, seeing your unfaltering smile despite the way your sensitive nose scrunched up a couple of times as you scooped the gravy into a container.

“You were right, angel,” Deuc was the first to speak up since the comfortable silence, “This dinner night was worth it.”

“Really?” The shine in your eyes was enough of a solid answer, “What changed?”

“That,” You tilted your head, “That pretty smile of yours.”

You mustered up a nervous smile, peeping out a small ‘oh’ before continuing with the leftovers.

At least, you tried to.

“No, no,” Peter came up behind you, intertwining his fingers with yours, “What did we say about hiding your smile?”

You peered up at Deuc, who nodded you encouragingly.

“That it only encourages you two to make me smile even more.” You whispered just enough for them to hear, trying your hardest to look elsewhere as they praised you with a simultaneous ‘atta girl’. Peter raised your laced hands, kissing the back of yours while Deuc took the other and did the same.

And just to spite you in the best way possible, they kissed either of your cheek, Deuc taking your left whereas Peter on your right.

But before they could melt you further, you heard an ‘oop’, followed by Lydia’s ‘Stiles!’ before she dragged him off. The poor boy had accidentally seen the tooth-rotting display at its peak, especially between his former nemeses and his godmother. It didn’t bother them in the slightest though. They turned to you, only to see your wide-eyed mortification. You could’ve really traumatized him or anyone else for that matter, had Stiles’ interruption not happened, and you had no doubt these two could care less in favour of devouring you in the kitchen.

Shameless.

But you loved them anyway.

That still didn’t stop you from glaring at the two, at least you tried to, losing your composure when they both ganged up on you with their knowing smirk—a telltale that they haven’t forgotten about your promise.

They eventually put you out of your misery, but their lingering touches had only been amped up to the max, letting you know that they were growing impatient to have you.

And the second the pack leaves, boy, were you in for the night.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° just an introductory tag! @christinasyellowflowers @clockworkballerina @marianne-zemo @spicymau-5

[tf2incorrectquotes]

Reddy: Hm, Mr Hale has been rather quiet today.

Bidwell: Yeah, it’s quite nice actually.

Reddy: ...

Bidwell: ...

Redwell: We should check on him.

Bidwell: Immediately.

[schwartzkaft]

I'm back with the sketches.

[vickyvicarious]

So... Masters and Men, eh? There are several different perspectives at play in this chapter:

Mrs. Thornton

"[Workers strike] For the mastership and ownership of other people’s property [...] they are a pack of ungrateful hounds [...] they want to be masters, and make the masters into slaves on their own ground. They are always trying at it; they always have it in their minds".

Mrs. Thornton speaks very harshly of the workers, and she seems to explicitly view the situation as opposing sides, with the 'lesser' one being the aggressor. Part of the pride she takes in her lifestyle is linked to being brave enough to face them and 'fight' against them. In fact, the quote about that is really interesting to me, because she claims they're "a people who are always owing their betters a grudge, and only waiting for an opportunity to pay it off," but in some ways, she could be seen that way as well. At least in the sense of family history/social status, the Hales are supposedly the Thornton's superiors, right? And Mrs. Thornton is very prickly about being seen as inferior herself. A lot of it seems to be genuine pride and dislike of their (Southern) priorities, but some is definitely defensive. And I could see some nasty high society person using similar wording about Mrs. Thornton herself having a grudge against her betters. Certainly, as someone who herself had to struggle tremendously to climb to the point she's at now, I find it easier to see her believing others will want to do the same (though she attributes more malevolence to their actions).

Mr. Hale

"I should say that the masses were already passing rapidly into the troublesome stage which intervenes between childhood and manhood, in the life of the multitude as well as that of the individual. Now, the error which many parents commit in the treatment of the individual at this time is, insisting on the same unreasoning obedience as when all he had to do in the way of duty was, to obey the simple laws of ‘Come when you’re called,’ and ‘Do as you’re bid!’ But a wise parent humours the desire for independent action, so as to become the friend and adviser when his absolute rule shall cease."

Mr. Hale doesn't attempt to dispute the idea that the workers are inferiors, and he's clearly not willing to go too far because he wants to keep the peace. But he tries to suggest that Mr. Thornton look upon them as growing and learning, and be indulged of their 'mistakes' or 'outbursts', so to speak. When talk again turns to the two sides as being opposed to one another, Mr. Hale says, "is not that because there has been none of the equality of friendship between the adviser and advised classes?" He's certainly in favor of mending relations, and he doesn't believe that opposition is inherent/necessary, but his approach is sort of benevolently condescending. This too fits well with his background and the kind of thing Margaret was used to before they move here.

Nicholas Higgins

...it were the interest of the employers to keep them from acquiring money—that it would make them too independent if they had a sum in the savings’ bank. [...] I heard, moreover, that it was considered to the advantage of the masters to have ignorant workmen... [...] But he—that is my informant—spoke as if the masters would like their hands to be merely tall, large children—living in the present moment—with a blind unreasoning kind of obedience.

Higgins (who isn't here and whose words are being relayed second-hand) is the one who first brought up the workers-to-children comparison, but he did so in a distinctly scathing way. He's very bitter about the 'masters' and is definitely displeased at being looked down on. But it's not just resentment. He recognizes the balance of power that is at least in many cases being deliberately maintained. The workers aren't allowed to be too independent because then they can't as easily be used however the masters want. His views are sort of a reverse of Mrs. Thornton's... the employers are the aggressors constantly shoving the workers back down. Wanting them to be ignorant, never to think for themselves, to be dependent and unquestioning. As someone who has very few options even when it comes to helping his daughter dying due to a factory-related illness, his bitterness is fully understandable.

John Thornton

"But because we don’t explain our reasons, they won’t believe we’re acting reasonably. We must give them line and letter for the way we choose to spend or save our money." [...] "I agree with Miss Hale so far as to consider our people in the condition of children, while I deny that we, the masters, have anything to do with the making or keeping them so. I maintain that despotism is the best kind of government for them; so that in the hours in which I come in contact with them I must necessarily be an autocrat." [...] "And I say, that the masters would be trenching on the independence of their hands, in a way that I, for one, should not feel justified in doing, if we interfered too much with the life they lead out of the mills. Because they labour ten hours a-day for us, I do not see that we have any right to impose leading-strings upon them for the rest of their time. I value my own independence so highly that I can fancy no degradation greater than that of having another man perpetually directing and advising and lecturing me, or even planning too closely in any way about my actions."

Mr. Thornton has quite an interesting mix of views here. He claims that it is necessary for him to be a despot; but he feels he has no right to interfere with their personal lives. He talks scornfully of their strikes and says if they knew why he's taken his stance, then they would act differently, but he refuses to tell them why. He agrees that they're like children, but then says he respects their independence and is treating them like he'd want to be treated. Thornton does seem to have a better understanding of the independent nature of the people here, but he uses that reasoning to justify remaining completely uninvolved in bettering the situation. He asks if he has any right to impose his own views on them just because he's their boss - and that's a fair point, but also, he's kind of doing that regardless? It's his belief that an honest and straightforward, if demanding 'master' is both more respectable and incurs loyalty/becomes an example to follow. It's his belief that the workers should blindly obey him because he's in charge, and that this is better for them. And as someone with so much power over their livelihoods, he can operate based on these views. If they feel otherwise, they don't have the power to change that. When they try with strikes, he's willing to get into a power struggle that he admits will hurt him as well as them, rather than let them 'win' even just enough to make him admit his reasons why. Even though he claims their interests align with his, he seems to feel that they don't or can't understand this, and thus conflict is inevitable. In fact, I think he was the first one to call it a "battle of the classes." Thornton's backstory is very much a "pulled myself up by my own bootstraps" success story, and because he did it by working really hard and practicing lots of self-discipline, he seems to think anyone else who fails to succeed is at fault for not working hard enough. He didn't question his bosses, he just put the work in! And so on. Of course, pretty sure he was always of a higher class, and that's going to be a factor for all of these people regardless, but still, I can easily see him thinking that it's their fault for not knowing how to save their money carefully enough. And thus dismissing their complaints.

Margaret Hale

All I meant to say is, that there is no human law to prevent the employers from utterly wasting or throwing away all their money, if they choose; but that there are passages in the Bible which would rather imply—to me at least—that they neglected their duties as stewards if they did so. [...] ...I see two classes dependent on each other in every possible way, yet each evidently regarding the interests of the other as opposed to their own: I never lived in a place before where there were two sets of people always running each other down. [...] ...you are a man, dealing with a set of men over whom you have, whether you reject the use of it or not, immense power, just because your lives and your welfare are so constantly and intimately interwoven. God has made us so that we must be mutually dependent. We may ignore our own dependence, or refuse to acknowledge that others depend upon us in more respects than the payment of weekly wages; but the thing must be, nevertheless.

Margaret relays Higgins' words, and speaks on his behalf. She seems to have a position closest to her father, in the sense that she feels it is Mr. Thornton's duty to aid the people under his rulership. She seems guided ultimately by religious ideals of the relationship between people, but also recognizes that the situation involves an inherent power imbalance and thus responsibility on the part of the one who is at the top. As much as Thornton might deny it, he does have incredible power over the people. But he is also dependent upon them. Her talk about dependence is really interesting because she's the first person to portray it as extending in both directions. They are dependent upon him to employ them; but he is equally dependent upon them to work for him. In this way, she goes a step further than Mr. Hale seemed to, and recognizes both sides as at least closer to equals. She clearly isn't suggesting that every worker should be seen as having the same rights and roles as Thornton, but neither does she view them as either entirely isolated in their independence, or entirely subservient in their dependence. It's a complicated web in which everyone plays a valuable part. Fighting against one another is by necessity acting against your own interests, in a way. Once again, I think her having these beliefs fits very well with her background as someone who did operate in a more noblesse oblige way and clearly felt she was better than certain other classes, but also experienced being the social lesser/supported one when taken in by her Aunt.

[agentem]

Unlock Thy Hidden Gate

After the Coven sings The Ballad of the Witches Road, Agatha makes a point of saying the door didn't take that long to appear last time and they all fight.

Sharon/Mrs Hart is the first one to spot it. And I'm kind of confused as to what makes it appear at that moment.

Is it that they are not a "true coven" until they call each other bitches? (That sounds like a friend group, I guess.)

Or--and this is only a theory--is it more about Teen? Because the door is glows with blue magic and he was just attacked upstairs when it happens. So maybe he opened it? He is the first one through. (Although why not where he was attacked?)

I'm keeping my eye on the magic colors. They have shirts online where each of them has a different color. Agatha is purple, obvs. Jennifer is pink. Lilia is yellow. Alice is red (different from scarlet, more orangey?). Rio will be green when she gets there.

But "Teen" is blue. Like Billy. Like the door.

[sototallynormaliswear]

the experiment from 2x05 makes me SO MAD for no reason but like. that's OBJECTIVELY an awful experiment

you could fuck up on EVERY STAGE and then switch and still get a good grade because of everyone who had that table before you

alternatively you could do the experiment perfectly but because you're moving stations the whole time, you end up with something garbage because of someone else

like. I know the end of the scene with Scott and Stiles' fucked up experiment is meant to be an indication of them being so preoccupied with keeping everyone safe and alive that their school life suffers but like. NEITHER OF THEM WERE THERE THEY WERENT EVEN PARTNERS THE WHOLE TIME WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY FAILED THE EXPERIMENT THERES ABSOLUTELY NO WAY TO GAUGE IF THEY WERE THE ONES TO FUCJ UP

for an experiment to be good you need to have ONE VARIABLE while everything else is the same. but for EVERY turn, EVERY partner changes EVERY table. why

[lyss-butterscotch]

TODAY I WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU TEACHERS AND PROFESSORS OUT THERE WHO EXPLAINS SHIT IN BABY UNGA BUNGA LANGUAGE AND IS SUPER PATIENT WITH MY STUPID ASS BECAUSE BEING ABLE TO ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND A TASK IS THE FEELING OF ALL TIME

[t4twailingstar]

me or you, one of us is going to

need to die.

other versions below

[bi-demon-ium]

whose echo am i chasing: yours or mine? yours or mine? yours or mine?

[tf2incorrectquotes]

When Bidwell gets drunk:

[lothiriel84]

Ah, the delightful irony of the Beresford sisters envying each other's lot in life (i.e. their respective marriages) when they're both as equally dissatisfied with their choice of a husband - though for diametrically opposite reasons.