#which is a success and then he learns about tim’s sad home life

[chocor0se]

au where pre-death jason is very aware of the drake kid’s presence, because timothy fucking drake freaks him out.

jason knows that drake’s watching him. sure, every time he looks behind his back at school tim’s eyes are looking elsewhere, but he can feel the kid’s eyes burning two holes into him.

also, one time jason checked out a book from the school library, and the day after he returned it, he saw timothy drake reading the very same book! coincidence? he thinks not.

and this is more out there, but jason swears he can feel tim watching him on patrol too. and yes, that’s unlikely since no one should know his secret identity, BUT HE CAN FEEL THE EYES.

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x12 Review

Second Chances was a lacklustre finale for an uneven season. Let’s dig in!

Earlier this week I re-watched S1 in preparation for the S2 finale and the contrast between the two seasons is jarring. In almost every way S2 has been worse and after seeing this finale I’m less optimistic that Tim will be able to fix the long list of things that have gone wrong. Tim has said in some of his interviews today that pretty much all of S2 was written before the pandemic and that they didn’t have to do as much re-writing as people might think due to the stringent safety measures Disney put in place. Of course, that removes an excuse for the bad writing we’ve seen so much of this season as according to Tim what we saw of S2 is largely what he envisioned minus big crowds and background dancers.

 Across his many interviews today, the one consistent point is that Tim does not have any real plans for future seasons; things like Ricky’s endgame he hasn’t decided on and he can’t even guarantee the summer season the finale sets up due to the weather in Salt Lake. I do think a S3 is an almost certainty given the show’s popularity but I’ll take Tim at his word that he truly doesn’t know if they’ll be renewed since it seems to be a new Disney tradition to wait until seasons are done airing before making a renewal decision (the same thing happened for the popular and well received Mighty Ducks: Game Changers which got a silent renewal only after all of S1 aired). That being said as poor of a season finale as Second Chances is it is also a terrible potential series finale. In large part it goes back to his lack of planning, he wants to keep all options open but in doing so Tim is crippling the show’s ability to deliver any pay offs or tie up loose ends.  

The one mostly well done plot line this season was Portwell which got a happy ending tonight as they canoned. The only good thing about the big brother angst was that it was so insane that it had to be addressed and sure enough it was and Gina got her first kiss with a guy she really liked. If Tim is to be believed the reason we didn’t get an on screen Portwell kiss was not because of their age difference or covid concerns but because he felt that everyone’s first kiss was different so he wanted it off screen so viewers could fill in the blanks themselves. Tim’s line of reasoning is profoundly stupid. Imagine if they had Jamie show up and he and Gina talked off screen and Tim tried to claim that because everyone has a different relationship with their own siblings that he wanted the audience to fill in the blanks as to how their conversation went!

Still we saw great character development on Gina and EJ’s part as both really grew from the people they were in S1. As Tim noted, EJ bringing Gina back in 1x10 was kind of the set up for this story line. The only thing missing was a brief Portwell scene sometime in eps 2x01-2x04 to set them up. The consistent development they got from 2x05-2x12 is unlike any other ship on the show; only Rini exceeds their development. 

Unfortunately I don’t think that will last in S3 because Tim will always favour Ricky over EJ and if he wants to do Rina he’ll dispose of Portwell before doing so. I was surprised that they never bothered to have Ricky and Gina have a conversation about Gina’s S1 confession. It was a huge mistake to have Gina pine over Ricky for half the season and it was no surprise that Gina’s story line got instantly better once she stopped interacting with Ricky. Tim has made clear in interviews that he’s still interested in the possibility of Rina which makes his poor writing of them even more bizarre. What conclusions are the audience supposed to draw from the Rina story line this season? That Ricky never cared that much about Gina? That it’s totally fine for the show if they don’t interact for 6 eps in a row? That Gina has moved on? I’ve said before that a wiser man than Tim would recognize that doing both Portwell and Rina will do tremendous damage to the show and he should pick one and not do the other. Of course he’s not that smart but it is wild how he’s accidentally written their story line to make for a perfect end to Rina. 

Second Chances was great and is the only part of the finale that would have been well suited to being part of a potential series finale. 

The Rini closure was a sad inverse of their S1 opening night confession. They’ve fallen so far from being the it couple of the series and I fear Tim doesn’t actually know what to do with them now. He really needs to decide if he’s tearing down that treehouse for real. 

The less said about the Valentine’s chocolates the better but at least Gina and Nini are cool again and Nini can explore her budding music career with Jamie’s help. Tim repeatedly said in interviews that the scripts about Nini’s music career were all written before Driver’s License came out and I think he understands that the audience is just going to see the show as copying from Olivia’s life. 

The wildcats just deciding to drop out of the Menkies was a lame cop out. Tim has said he always meant for that to happen though they were originally going to compete at the Menkies then drop out (presumably that’s where we would have heard Lily singing Home). Somebody should have mentioned the $50 000 prize money which the East High theatre department could surely use after Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara burned it down (remember that story line that had no consequences?). And that NYU scholarship could have been life changing for one of them and yet no one even brought  it up once this season. 

I did like the twist that it was EJ and his dad who got Mazzara into Caltech. He’d be a fool not to take it but I’m glad he confessed to Miss Jenn. She’s had a really rough season and I hope she redeems herself in S3.

Howie was acting so weird tonight and last ep that I have a hard time believing he was really so awed by Kourtney’s talent rather than feeling guilty for helping to steal the harness. The harness is another useless plot device; there are no consequences for Lily stealing it, she’s not caught, East High pulls off another version of the transformation off screen, and then East High withdraws from the Menkies anyways. Doubtless the harness will eventually come up to serve Rily angst. 

At least Lily was straightforward, I’ll give her that. She has such an odd way of speaking, almost child like. As awful as it is there is potential for a forbidden/secret romance story line with Rily. It really does not speak well to Ricky’s character that he’s so easily fallen for Lily’s act when he has no reason to trust her and she never apologized for making fun of Big Red during the auditions or making Ashlyn feel insecure during the dance off. 

The one way in which S2 was drastically better to S1 was in regards to the Seblos story line. Clearly Joe being bumped up to regular made a big difference. We got the first same-sex kiss between two boys and the first love song sung by one boy to another in Disney history and that is a legacy to be proud of. Of course, there was still some Disney censorship such as Carlos and Seblos being unable to use the word gay in the same ep that focused on Carlos singing In a Heartbeat to Seb. 

S1 of HSMTMTS had a clear direction, the wildcats would have to try and come together to stage High School Musical and Ricky and Nini would have to decide if they still had a future together while Gina and EJ had to work on being better versions of themselves. It was simple sure but it worked very well. There was a lot of heart but also a lot of humor and the show never took itself too seriously. What has S2 had? Beauty and the Beast was hardly the main focus of the cast or the writers and the central couple that S1 was built around is now broken up either for a long time or for good. There was a lot less of the meta moments that jokes that made S1 such a hit, for far too many eps this season the show took itself way too seriously. Hell even the lighting this season was darker than in S1. 

Olivia Rodrigo’s team had complained in a recent article that Olivia wouldn’t be able to potentially tour until fall 2022 due to her contractual commitments which is a sign that they think a S3 is very likely though I wonder how late S3 filming would have to start to keep her occupied until late 2022. There’s no confirmation of this but I thought it might be worth keeping an eye on; a post on r/hsmtmts by someone who claims to have a source working on production says that the plan is for S3 to be a summer theatre camp possibly with Camp Rock renditions and the plan for S4 is to jump 6 months ahead to the final semester of senior year and end with Ricky, Nini, Big Red, and Kourtney graduating from East High. They also say that part of the delay in the S3 announcement is a conflict between Tim and Disney executives. Tim wants to move production to LA and film on sets as it’s easier and cheaper while the Disney execs still want some on location shooting in Salt Lake. Again this is all unconfirmed but if it pans out it will represent a major shift in the series. 

Regardless if Tim wants the show to remain successful he needs start planning out what he wants to happen. He should not assume he’s getting more than 4 seasons. If the series gets a S3 but then is suddenly cancelled then how would he want all the main story lines to wrap up? And if they make it to S4 where does he see it ending? The graduation of the current juniors is a logical series ending point but if Tim wants to do something different he needs to start thinking of that now. I can’t say I’m excited anymore for S3 but I do really hope that Tim and his writers can turn things around and that will only happen if they recognize what they did wrong and learn from their mistakes. 

Until next season Wildcats

[kimberly-spirits13]

Batsis HC Compilation

1.     Being the Artist/ Sensitive Also Kinda Scary Wayne Daughter HC (lol):

Warnings: Depression and anxiety mentions

·      You were the first biological child of Bruce Wayne

·      Well as far as you knew lol

·      You were younger than Jason, but a few months older than Tim

·      I suspect that if you were in the family business as long as Dick or so you’d have some issues

·      Those would include but not be limited to depression and possible anxiety

·      There would be happy days but it would still go downhill after a few days

·      On the days where it was worst, everyone would pile in for family movie night

·      Secretive person and would probably be quite and sarcastic

·      Since you were living at the manor your entire life, you would’ve lived to see Jason’s death and it really hurt

·      If you were a musician, I suspect that Alfred or Bruce would have walked in on you at the piano or something playing a terribly sad song about it or just emotions and they’d cry

·      Something like the song “Beautiful Scar” by Alicia Moffet (sad one btw like omg)

·      If you were a writer or an artist, just pieces describing everything symbolically

·      Going back to the musician, there is a music room in the manor in my mind so I suspect that there are times where Bruce or one of your older brothers will carry you into your bedroom if they find you asleep

·      You find it hard being a Wayne and all seeing as it’s like everyone around you is fake

·      That led you to hanging alone a lot which concerned Bruce

·      “Y/N, why don’t you go to the party you were invited to? It’s a beautiful day for one.” He said one day finding you reading in your bedroom.

You looked at him solemnly, “All my friends are fake and want me for money and clout.” “I don’t try to go out with them much if I don’t have to.” *Que protective batdad*

·      The library is your home as well as the gardens

·      Now public and patrol is a whole new story

·      Riddler is your favorite villain because he starts good conversations

·      Sometimes the villains have in fact questioned your health to your older brothers

·      Riddler: So, does it concern you that Y/S/H/N seems to openly hate life or is it just me?

Nightwing: We all hate life, she just does a little bit more

Riddler: ...okkayyyyyyy

·      You sometimes make very violent threats on patrol which lead to some interesting conversations in the vans back to jail

·      The paps are literally scared of you

·      You have given the famous Wayne glare but on level 1000, billions of times

·      Very sarcastic answers to some questions

·      When people on the internet come for anyone you love you shut them down asap

_______________________________________________________________________

2.     Being the Business Woman

·      You showed interest in the business for a while but never really total want to take over WE

·      No, you wanted to leave that for Tim

·      The boy deserved it anyways

·      Instead you started taking extra courses in business and such in middle school and worked your way up

·      While you didn’t like galas, you did try and make connections

·      You went to either an Ivy Leauge or Oxford or something

·      Then Wharton

·      After that you were on your way

·      If you already had a business it was booming but now it’s “extra booming”? idk but you get the idea

·      HuGE

·      Bruce was very proud and made that clear in interviews

·      Your company works closely with WE

·      Asking B for advice

·      Paparazzi doubling down on coverage for you since now you’re bigger than ever

·      Hosting you own galas

·      You either have a big house and rooms for everyone or a penthouse with the same situation

_______________________________________________________________________

3.     Being Bruce’s Favorite

·      You have the best relationship with Bruce out of everyone

·      He takes you out on father/ daughter lunch or dinner dates which is pretty fun

·      He would never openly admit that you’re his favorite

·      Taught you to drive

·      If you ever need advice you go straight to him

·      Best birthdays ever

·      You go and visit him at WE and he lets you hang in the office

·      There’s a secret fridge stocked with snacks

·      Dad/ daughter patrol

·      Read you stories as a child

·      Legit might still if you ask

·      You sit in his office to do homework

·      Has come home to you spinning in his office chair

·      Shopping sprees

·      Interviews

·      Very protective on patrol when it comes down to being in a ton of danger

_______________________________________________________________________

4.     Being the Metahuman

·      I’m thinking that you would have gotten your powers from a mission gone wrong

·      It was probably involving magic or something and you were seriously injured

·      I think that it would be fitting to be able to control darkness and things like shadows

·      Everyone was freaked out including you

·      You begged not to be sent away knowing what he thought of metas

·      He promised that he wouldn’t and just had someone over that would help you

·      Lots of tests at first and you kinda just lived in the Batcave for some time just incase

·      After that you changed your costume a bit to fit to the power theme

·      The villains were straight confused

·      “Bats what happened to your kid? Why is she scarier now?” ...”it’s complicated”

·      You know how in Young Justice, Robin had that creepy laugh?

·      It was like that now but then shadows came out of the wall

·      Everyone is pretty sure you made a few street criminals and Black Mask’s goon pee their pants

·      Best Halloween fun on patrol now

·      You scared Joker once

·      The powers do sometimes take a darker turn and you had to learn to control that since it did come from a maliciously used magic

·      “I can smell the fear off of you, clown.” You smiled and walked around him, shadows in the room, darkening your presence.  “Uhhh Batsy, I don’t like this one anymore.”

·      Hanging out with more Metas

·      You and Duke are like best friends

·      Gotta figure it out with someone am I right?

_______________________________________________________________________

5.     Being the Author

·      Your father does have presence everywhere, but you don’t like to think that that is the reason for your success

·      I could imagine you being a true crime or just mystery writer

·      Maybe even fantasy/fiction

·      Jason helps you write them if you ever get stuck

·      All of them go to your book signings and sometimes it’s embarrassing but also funny

·      You love that they support you

·      Care packages from Alfred when you’re on book tours

·      There are typically also some more things tucked inside from everyone

·      Staying up with Timbers

·      Your room is probably really aesthetic just sayin

·      Gardens and library is the beesstttttt

·      Sometimes for books, you take your time on patrol and as a superhero even if you still do it as inspiration

·      Everyone is like HoW Do ThEY COmE uP WiTh ThIS

·      Hehe

·      If you’re moved out I can imagine you have a really cool apartment or house

·      Cozy and open

·      *aesthetic*

·      One time, Damian did a book cover for you and so since he actually wouldn’t let you pay him, you took him on tour with you

·      You helped him make that his side hustle lol

·      Alfred has all of your books in the library

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay so I could NOT sleep last night and was up till 6 doing this, I don’t mind adding onto it and I’ll totally take requests for this. I do hope that you guys liked this.

[violetrose-art]

Corpse Bride Headcannons, Theories, and Ideas

This is just a list of the theories, headcannons, and ideas I came up with for Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. I might add more later on, so watch out

-Victor and Victoria were born and raised in a small English village close to the Atlantic Ocean called Burtonsville

-Victor’s full name is Victor Ichabod Van Dort

-When he was about four years old, Victor found Scraps as a mixed-breed puppy in an alleyway. Nell and William refused at first, but William saw how his son quickly became attached to the dog, so he let him stay. Sadly, when Victor turned eight, Scraps was brutally mauled and tragically killed while trying to defend his beloved owner from a bigger, nastier dog

-Victor’s favorite toy as a child was a stuffed horse he called Usher. He begged his mother to let him keep Usher until he was fourteen

-Victor learned to play the piano when he was about five years old. He was a fast learner and he picked up on it very quickly, and his tutor was greatly impressed by his skill. His favorite musicians are Mozart and Beethoven

-Victor works as an artist to draw many types of butterflies for the Lepidoptera Community, as well as a professional pianist. Originally, his father wanted him to work as a fish merchant and take over the family business, but Victor politely told him “no thanks” because he wanted to follow his own dreams. William was disappointed, but deep down he wanted his son to be happy. So he usually encouraged him, especially when Nell wasn’t around

-Outside from his butterfly works, Victor does paintings during his free time at home. The color theory that he studied was written by Eugene De La Croix·         Victor has been drawing since he was a child. His favorite things to draw are animals, butterflies, and other insects. He also does landscapes and people sometimes. He also likes to write sometimes, mostly a few poems and a couple musical compositions. Nothing he took too seriously, though. He also likes to sing when he thinks he’s alone

-In his childhood, Victor used to have a somewhat regular playmate named Humphrey. They were almost friends, but when William’s business became very successful and Victor’s family became rich when Victor was about eleven, Humphrey stopped coming over and the two boys haven’t seen each other since

-When he was a boy, he learned how to speak French because his mother thought it was “high-class” to be bilingual. Victor was diligent in his studies and thus has a good knowledge of spoken and written French. He may not be perfectly fluent, but he can carry on a decent conversation

-Victor is severely allergic to walnuts and poison oak

-Victor had a cousin named Mary whom he was very fond of, but she passed away when she was seventeen and he was six. She got lost in the woods and was attacked and devoured by a pack of wolves

-Victor doesn’t drink anything more than the occasional glass of champagne or wine. The reason? Mayhew once got him drunk and it turns out Victor is a CHATTY drunk. As in, he’ll tell you his life story at the slightest provocation. Victor was so embarrassed when he sobered up that he nearly swore off all alcohol forever. It’s very unlikely he’ll ever knowingly get wasted again·         After he and Victoria were finally married, Victor gained confidence and he stood up against Victoria's parents earning him some respect

-Victor HATES smoking. He was secretly offered a cigarette from Mayhew when he was fourteen and after the first inhale, he was coughing and gagging so much that he nearly threw up

-Victor is the tallest member of the Van Dort family, making him stand out quite a bit during family reunions

-He may not be a sporty person, but Victor enjoys cycling. He also loves a good game of chess

-Victor adores reading. His favorite writers are William Blake, Charles Baudelaire, Lewis Carroll, Edgar Allan Poe, and William Shakespeare

His favorite books are “Les Miserables”, “Dracula”, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “The Fall of the House of Usher” and other works by E.A. Poe. The play/book that he hates the most is “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” because he strongly dislikes this style of a love triangle in the plot line. He also has a fascination with penny dreadful. Yes, he knows the serial stories are really nothing but lowest common denominator trash, but he loves them anyway. He got hooked on them as a teenager thanks to Mayhew’s nephew, and he used to keep a secret stash under his mattress

-When she still rather young, Victor noticed that his daughter, Emily, became very interested in music, so he taught her how to play the piano as well as the violin

-Victoria was the one who taught her son, Edward, how to read and they bond over books and stories they both enjoy

-The worst day of Victor’s life happened about three weeks after Scraps died. Victor’s parents had some business friends over for tea, and forced a still-grieving Victor to come down and be social. Poor Victor made a bad impression, being quieter and clumsier than normal, culminating in knocking over one man, tripping his wife, and insulting said wife’s coat in apologizing. Nell, humiliated and enraged, turned on her son once the guests were off, screaming at him about what an embarrassment he was while they were still standing on the front steps. Victor was so horrified, embarrassed, and depressed that he came too close to taking his own life. He got his hands on his father’s straight-razor, snuck into the bathroom, and actually had it to his neck when a noise from outside the bathroom spooked him and he dropped the razor and ran back to his room as fast as he could. Fortunately, the distraction gave him time to realize suicide wouldn’t fix anything, and he made a promise to himself never to stoop that low again. His parents also apologized the next day, which helped a lot. Victor avoids telling anyone about it unless he feels he has to, certain they’ll think less of him for it

-Victor was born June 9th, 1867

-Victoria’s full name is Victoria Elizabeth Everglot

-When she was very little, Victoria had always wanted a pet (like a cat or a small dog) but her mother said that having a pet in the house was uncivilized and improper and that all animals were filthy and uncouth creatures

-Victoria’s favorite hobby is sewing and knitting. She often designs most of her husband’s clothes and others in her spare time

-As a child, Victoria tried to be closer to her parents, but often found the family maid Hildegarde as more of a mother figure

-Victoria loves to read in her spare time… even though most people call it scandalous for a woman to do such a thing. Her mother even said reading was too passionate for a young lady. At a young age, Hildegarde, taught Victoria how to read (something her parents never found out about)

-Her favorite books are “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “A Christmas Carol”, and any classic fairy tale. And her favorite writers are Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, Charles Perrault, Hans Christian Andersen, and the Brothers Grimm

-Victoria’s favorite toy as a child was a china doll she called Miss Liddie. By the time she was about eleven, she had grown out of it. Even though she knows she’s too old for toys now, she still misses Miss Liddie

-Victoria isn’t allergic to anything, but she does tend to sneeze if dust is in the air

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was nearly trampled by a horse-drawn carriage, which made her develop a slight fear of horses

-Victoria likes to sing whenever she thinks she’s alone. She doesn’t believe it, but she has a surprisingly lovely singing voice

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was entranced by the piano in her house and she immediately wanted to learn how to play but her mother had told her daughter many times that music was improper and too passionate for a young lady. But Victor always tells his wife that music is a wonderful way to express oneself and that he would be more than happy to teach her how to play

-Victoria used to have a regular playmate named Gwyneth in her girlhood. They were good friends, but when Victoria reached her pre-teen years, Gwyneth stopped coming over to play for some reason and she never heard from her since

-Victoria is the most beautiful member of the Everglot family

-When she was in her early teens, Victoria secretly dreamed of becoming a writer someday

-Victoria was born February 3rd, 1868

-Victor and Victoria had two children. Their names are Emily Alice Van Dort (age 15) and Edward Daniel Van Dort (age 10)

-When Victor and Victoria were married, they moved out of their parents houses and bought a beautiful two story house that sat at the edge of a large meadow that was right next to the forest… plus, the house was a good mile or so away from Burtonsville

-The Corpse Bride’s full name is Emily Charlotte Cartwell

-Emily was born into a wealthy family. Her parents, Lord and Lady Cartwell, couldn’t say ‘no’ to their daughter and they practically gave her everything she asked for, so she became incredibly spoiled, selfish, and incredibly naïve·         Emily was a hopeless romantic, often spending time reading romance novels and daydreaming about her wedding when she was alive

-When she was alive, Emily was blonde

-When she made it to Heaven, Emily was finally reunited with her mother and father

-When their daughter disappeared, Lord and Lady Cartwell were so sad and depressed that they wasted away and passed away in their sleep

-Before ascending, Emily considered Bonejangles to be one of her best friends. They used to sing and dance together all the time. He even taught her how to play the piano

-When she was alive, Emily knew how to ride horses. She even had a pet white mare she called Aphrodite

-Emily Cartwell died at age eighteen

-Lord Barkis’s full name is Barkis Finbar Campbell Bittern

-Emily met Lord Barkis while she was on an outing with her parents. Her parents had their backs turned while Emily was talking with Barkis. After only a few minutes of talking, she was instantly smitten with him and she accepted his immediate proposal of marriage… and her mother and father were not happy about it at all. Emily and her father had a huge fight and she decided to elope with Barkis… but for her, it didn’t go as planned

-Barkis told her that if they were going to be together, they would need money. Emily wasn’t sure, but in the end, she agreed

-On the night she was running away, Emily stole not only her mother’s wedding dress, veil, gloves, and best shoes, but she also stole the jewels from her mother’s jewelry box and a large bag of gold from her father’s office

-As Emily was waiting for her fiancé that night, Barkis snuck up behind her, stabbed her, knocked her out cold, took all of her money and jewels, and buried her alive. She woke up in a shallow grave and tried to claw her way out before suffocating to death. That's why her hand was sticking out of the ground

-Barkis was married six times in his life. He and his first wife were married out of love until he found her cheating on him and killed her. The second was an elderly widow for her money. The third one got away before he could even hurt her, but she drowned herself in a deep, rushing river. The fourth was a drunken lonely woman who “accidentally” fell out of a two story window. The fifth being Emily and the sixth being Victoria

-In the Land of The Dead, Barkis was brutally beaten and ripped apart before he was imprisoned in an iron coffin chained seven feet underground with other criminals like him for all eternity

-After he ran away, Barkis studied linguistics in French, Latin, German, and Russian in order to impress others… or use different fake accents to fool them with

-Barkis’s original first name was Bradford and he had a rough upbringing. His father was a violent alcoholic and his mother was a reckless prostitute and they both abused Bradford as a child until he ran away from home at age sixteen and changed his name to Lord Barkis

-Barkis has a twin sister who had a son named Hector. Hector greatly looked up to his uncle and when he heard about what happened to Barkis, he was taken aback, but he also felt he could use that to his advantage. When he turned 30, Hector came to Burtonsville to exact revenge on the Van Dort family… but he also developed a vile infatuation with Emily. Whenever he tries to woo the young girl (which always fails since Emily finds him repulsive and cruel), Victor gladly steps in the way every time and he always sternly tells Hector to stay away from his daughter

-Mrs. Van Dort’s full name is Eleanor Minerva Fitzackley Van Dort

-Nell came from a lower class family. She lived with her father, mother, and three sisters. However, Nell wasn’t happy with her place in society and she wanted to became something more

-Nell and William first met when she was caught in the rain one stormy day and he offered her a ride home in his fish merchant carriage. She declined at first, but quickly gave in when it started to bucket down. As they rode together, they started chatting and soon became very interested in one another

-Nell and William made their way back to the village just in time to witness Emily's soul disappear into the night as a swarm of blue butterflies

-When she learned about Mayhew’s death, Nell quietly wept in her room about it. She might be overbearing, but deep down, she truly does care for the ones closest to her. She also adores her husband and son, even if she does find them a bit irritating. She just has a hard time showing her emotions

-Mr. Van Dort’s full name is William Oscar Van Dort

-William loves talk about fish and his business, he always tries to weasel in the topic whenever possible to his wife and son's annoyance

-William used to take Victor on fishing trips when he was younger, which practically bored Victor to death

-While he tends to be the more passive one in their relationship, William does put his foot down when the situation calls for it

-It may not seem like it, but William adores Victor and he tries to do whatever he can to be there for his son

-When Victor turned sixteen, William gave him a silver pocket watch with a design of a fish on the front and his initials

-Lady Everglot’s full name is Maudeline Hortense Glottberg Everglot

-Maudeline and Finis didn’t plan on having a child in the first place and Victoria came as more of a surprise

-Maudeline had a sister named Marie who loved playing the piano. They didn’t get along in their youth and they drifted apart as they grew up. Maudeline wasn’t even invited to Marie’s wedding to Lord Frederick Cartwell

-When Marie died, she left her piano to her sister, but Maudeline never touched it. She felt it brought back too many memories and forbade Victoria from going near it was well

-Lord Eveglot’s full name is Finis Augustus Everglot

-While he was disappointed in not having a son, Finis deeply cares for his daughter. He just doesn’t know how to show it

-Even though they’re not good at sharing their feelings, Maudeline and Finis do care for each other to some extent

-Hildegarde has lots of grandchildren and she visited their home in the countryside as often as she could before she passed away

-When he was alive, Bonejangles was a freelance jazz musician from America and his original name was Dexter. He was finishing a gig in England when he died in a horrible carriage accident (he was run over), which also caused him to lose his eyeball

-General Bonesapart and General Wellington were actually General Napoleon Bonaparte and English General Wellington, two real historical figures. However, even though they hated each other at first, they became real pals eventually

-Although they don't say it out loud, people in Burtonsville make fun of Maudeline's hair cut, calling her names like "Rump Head" or "Hairmungus"

-Elder Gutknecht is one of the many Afterlife Lords, responsible for managing the dead after they pass. Among them include God, the Devil, King Vince, Hades, Hel, Osiris, Odin, Freya, and, the Hindu God Yama

-The Underworld is actually thousands of miles underground and due to the magic surrounding it. Mortals can't access it unless they die themselves

-After his death, Mayhew kicked the habit of smoking altogether and is very glad he did

-Elder Gutknecht has a fearsome Hellhound by the name of Infernius, his fierce and ever loyal pet. He guards the entrance to the Land of the Dead and can breathe fire that heats up to 900 degrees

-The fellow who was cut cleanly in half was an English gentleman by the name of Herman, who lived in Burtonsville years before. He ended up meeting his death due to an accident involving a rather large guillotine

-Generals Bonesapart and Wellington are the leaders of army of the Land of the Dead, but are only called into combat in times of great peril

-The people of Burtonsville sometimes call Lord Everglot “Everglut” behind his back

-Victoria has a cousin by the name of Dolores. Dolores is something of a freeloading con artist who moved to America when she left home. She considers herself a very attractive woman, but she just wears too much makeup and rather revealing clothes and is actually rather sleazy in reality. She also smokes, which Victoria and the rest of the Everglots are strongly against

-When he was alive, Elder Gutknecht used to be a wise sage that helped people in their time of need. He passed away when he reached the age of 102

-The Everglots were a family of nobles with a significant amount of money, but due to a bit of excessive gambling (by Dolores), they lost almost everything

-Almost every member of the Everglot family is rather ugly due to bad genetics. Victoria considers herself very, VERY lucky to have not inherited such genes (she unknowingly received her natural beauty from her late Aunt Marie)

-Pastor Galswells was raised in a strict environment. He was taught that kindness was weakness and to be stern and firm with everyone. He passed away shortly after the official wedding of Victor and Victoria and a new pastor took his place. His name is Pastor Ivan Blackthorp and he’s much kinder and friendlier than Galswells ever was

-The reason Victor named his dog Scraps was because he only ate table scraps

-The people of Burtonsville have a secret inside joke about the squatty walk Finis Everglot does where they assume that he would jump like a toad and snatch up a fly at any moment

-Burtonsville is well known for its raven population and there's an old legend saying they're messengers to the Land of the Dead

-For some weird reason, William Van Dort is known to mutter the words "Fishy, fishy, fish" in his sleep and it honestly creeps Nell out

-Paul, the decapitated head waiter, was actually a French man who served Marie Antoinette during her reign. Unfortunately, he was unjustly executed by association with the queen when the French Revolution broke out and he was never able to find his body after he died

-Several people have assumed Maudeline's hair is an actual wig and she's bald under it… only to be mistaken, resulting in a whooping

-Lord Barkis was a master of disguise in life and was never caught by the police as a result

-The Underworld has a prison known as the Iron Tomb and it holds some pretty infamous inmates who include Bluebeard, Caligula, Henry VIII, Mary I of England, and many more

-The Town of Burtonsville was actually built on an ancient burial ground, which is possibly why the Land of the Dead is connected to it

-After her death, Emily was made the official guardian angel of the Van Dort family

This is all I've got so far, but feel free to tell me what you think and tell me which one is your favorite

[cloveroctobers]

• JENIFER “JEN” MARLOWE •

IG Info/bio: @/justjenw1n | 220k followers | Fashion | just a LUVer who owns a lovely blog that you’re more than welcome to check out here... astoldbyjenmarlowe.co.uk 🪞🛍🪄

22 (24) (25 in 2021) years of age

From London, England

Her family has French origins

Tends to visit once a year mainly with her family

For her 18th bday, her parents also sent her to Paris with her bf that she’s been dating since she was 14

they broke up since he wanted to stay in Paris to pursue his dreams and she felt like she needed to be back home...which she felt Paris was not

Extremely close to her parents, some may say a little TOO close...

See, I feel like jen comes from a family that spoils her where her parents did everything and took care of everything for her. She had the privilege and didn’t have to work too hard to get things she wanted so that made her a little bit different than a few of her friends, hell—even her bf

Didn’t have to work until she reached her twenties

She also didn’t have too many friends because her parents felt like her cousins and/or her sibs were really only allowed to hold that title

However her parents had some sort of a soft spot for her when they allowed her to date her bf at 14 since he came from a nice background...

And to have at least 1-2 best friends...

I can’t decide if I see her having 3 other sibs with her being the second eldest, or her being the eldest with a younger sister? I can also see her being a only child too? Idk y’all can decide

Because her family is a tight knit one, she values everything they say and do...which is canon/evident

She got her thigh tattoo in Paris and even thought about asking her parents permission but her bf talked her out of it

she later showed them that night while he was in the shower. Her mother openly disapproved saying it was, “unladylike or unclean” while her father was more lenient towards it 

Her mother even scheduled her for laser appointments but this was one of the things jen was sure of, she loved her tattoo and she didn’t want to erase it from her body which led to her mother not speaking to her for about a month—even tho they live in the same household

I feel like she looks more like her dad with her mom’s hair and smile

Got into fashion due to her maternal grandmother who seemed to live a extravagant life as a old time actress, she always had and owned the finest of things

Jen loved having sleepovers there, it felt like she had her own personal Liz Taylor inside of her nan...but better!

Definitely found inspiration through Liz Taylor, Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, and Naomi Campbell

she had no clue what she wanted to do in life (she never had to think too hard about it until now, it’s true what they say about your twenties) and she made the choice not to continue thru with uni & I’m not going to make her out to be the stereotypical “dumb blonde” I think she did well in school—so she kinda just chilled after it was all over

Her first job at 20 was probably working in retail where she learned all about the bs you put up with but she loved clothes! That never changed

So she decided 6 months into her job that she was going to make a fashion blog

she made one separate from her tumblr but kept it under construction since she needed to brain storm what exactly this blog would entail

It didn’t take too long to her to figure it out by how she wanted the blog to look then discussing pieces from celebs/models then slowly discussing her own wardrobe + advice

She didn’t immediately gain success for it —altho she did have a good 1k people follow her thru her tumblr where she also provided the link to her separate blog... but she worked/works hard at it, hoping one day it’ll get her somewhere and that maybe she can get paid for it too?

Retail fucking sucks and people are horrible twats so when she was approaching 21 she deff quit with her parents still hammering...more so her dad on what she needs to do with her life but she found happiness in her blog and no one was going to take that away from her —not even her parents

‘What’s the use of working if it doesn’t make you happy?’ She thinks but again! she has the privilege of living under her parents roof and not having to pay bills so she didn’t have to worry too much rn she knows they’d never kick her out right?

she has two bunnies named “bugsy” and “Lola”—u know the reference right?

I feel like she values the flinstones & jetsons because it was something her dad loved watching as a kid and still does , probably has the dvds showcased in her room that she watches when she feels sad

Seems like a smiley person but when she’s sad? It kinda sucks to see cause she turns into a whole different person and she always seems happy with a smile so wide that turns her eyes squinty

If she disagrees with something, she’s 100% giving her opinion whether you like it or not? Wrong is wrong. But when the shoe is on the other foot? She hates being wrong LOL or doesn’t view herself being wrong. Doesn’t take accountability well...at all!

She’s also showed her ass by being a gossiper and fake as hell with Allegra about mc with the whole, “let’s pretend like we’re there for her” if you’re not fucking with somebody just say that or SHOW it sis cause that snakey shit will come back to bite you in the ass (I forgot about this lol as I’m replaying)

she’s all “mega resting bitch face” until she breaks out into a large smile

Libra sun? + Virgo moon? + Gemini rising?

I feel like she only knows what she wants when it comes to relationships but not with the rest of life?

Lol she was very determined with levi in the beginning, explored shit with jake, (I can’t remember if that was after you/mc showed a interest in him or not in that route? I’m doing a talia/Rohan route rn But that’s kinda foul if she’s smiling in ur face and then boom goes and does what she wants but hey that’s the game right? Fck that tho) and then stood by Tim after only some time?

She wasn’t feeling him in the beginning either cause he thought she was too posh for him and snakey which he’s right to some degree but she’s also right if she finds him too immature for her liking

To you jim? Ten? Stans— Idk what their ship name is but it probably wouldn’t have worked out in the long run either because I don’t see both of them wanting to change themselves completely to satisfy the other. (Tim tried) Sure if you’re showing unhealthy behaviors and are open to diminishing that for yourself then trying to work on your relationship then that’s great! But they already started from the jump not liking each other’s personalities/characteristics....

And hey! Ofc I know people grow to like things they might have disliked about you in the beginning but you can also find yourself not fully accepting it in a relationship and that doesn’t mean you didn’t try

+ it’s been hinted at that they’re not endgame & if you love yourself some Tim not platonically then this works in ur favor. if not? Then you can keep them endgame by all means! For me? That endgame shit is a no! For those that don’t gaf about either of them that’s fine too lmao

YES I feel like they were both hurt over the breakup and it probably happened right around the holidays or either a couple of months after Christmas/New Years 2019

Jen is probably the type to keep checking up on her ex, not necessarily talking to them but finding out who they’re with now

and if it’s Tim with mc she’s definitely gossiping about the shit with erikah and Allegra or making shady tweets or posts on IG for sure

“5 outfits to wear when you run into your ex” type posts on her blog looool

She hopes if she runs into Tim, she’s looking her best and she would 80% go up to him & mc/his new girl if not mc and be all huggy with him and holding conversation before she even thinks to acknowledge mc/new girl and when she does it’s a shady convo with fake smiles

Absolutely loves watching housewives so she was prepared for that moment if it ever does come

Her parents openly didn’t like Tim which made him feel like shit since it seemed like jen never defended him in front of them but again, she values her parents opinion and always wants their stamp of approval that’s just the way the girl is/ was brought up

She owes them everything but deep down knows that in her relationship with Tim she could have been a little more understanding of his needs like he was with her love for her parents...but she’ll never admit that

Doesn’t get over breakups as easily as it may seem like her exes do in her opinion.

It sure didn’t take long with Tim to date mc/new girl months after they broke up! Which was like a slap in the face

The ex bf she spent time w in Paris who looks like Matthew Noszka is now engaged, lives in AMERICA—& of all places??? California to be exact, and just released his debut album!! She knows which songs are probably about her, it’s a nice album she screamed about it for hours into her pillow and cried for what felt like weeks

Lost her voice over that breakdown too

Her mother even went as far as sending a nasty letter to this ex bf’s new address...since ya know? jen’s dad is a private investigator & all!!! but dad had no knowledge of this being done

She’s still fond of Levi and jake but not like in love with them? Like she thought/felt she was with Tim but she still considers them her mates

Maybe in 2021 she’ll be open to dating again and hopes erikah and Allegra will be her wingwomen when the time comes BUT she’s focusing on her blog rn and it’s the best it’s ever been!

She had the show to thank for that now that she has a manager and is getting paid for running her blog now! That’s right this girl is officially employed!

“At least one good thing came from the show ;) 🧽🥐🥂” type of tweets

There’s never not a moment where she’s not connecting her posts whether thru ig or Twitter to her blog: astoldbyjenmarlowe.co.uk!!!

Both erikah and Allegra talk a little shit about that together...WHEN they DO talk, the pair only really socialize when jen initiates it but if one pisses the other off?? they’re going to gossip about it with the other forsure

She doesn’t look that tall to me? Taller than erikah? 5’2-5’5 the 5 is pushing it for me? Maybe? lol I’m still deciding between her and Allegra far as height and I’m too lazy to go back and see what I put for her

Hates straightening her hair, that pin straight look is not cute to her. She loves having waves and body to her hair

Get her eyebrows micro bladed since she doesn’t have much hair up there to begin with

Adores French cuisine, always has since she was a little girl. Bisque used to be her fav back then and all that she would eat

Loves spring season especially pastel colors when it comes to her wardrobe

The type to say one thing and do the complete opposite

I feel like she probably has a little bit of lisp and it’s not really noticeable until she says some words, she’s insecure about it and thought it had something to do with the structure of her teeth and begged her parents to get them fixed but it literally had nothing to do with them

Yet she still got colorful braces in middle school even tho her teeth were pretty straight. She didn’t have to wear them for a whole year, thank goodness

Went to speech therapy to help

Has stacks of fashion magazines even from the early 90s all over her room: her night stand, her vanity, her closet, underneath her bed etc...

Adores the Hadid sisters, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, & Georgia May Jagger

Makes the best white chocolate chip (that’s right, white not just regular chocolate) banana bread but cooking/baking? Isn’t really her thing

Early riser

Loves yellow: yellow phone case, yellow laptop, yellow room, yellow tulips, yellow shades, etc...

Getting Prada shades was probably one of the best things that happened to her, s/o to her nan for granting her this wish

Words of affirmation is her love lanaguage, this girl is a talker and a bit of a thinker too I mean duh? She runs a blog

Likes bright colors on her toes but nude and clear polish on her hands?

Loves a good mascara but she also loves magnetic lashes but is trying her best to grow her lashes out rn! Thanks to erikah for sending her some good ol’ coconut oil!

Smokey eyes? Set her up

Gets a belly ring, and two more tatts one in between her boobs and the last on her ankle & that one she shed a tear over!

Maybe she’ll start changing her physical attributes more so than the way she carries her life at first? (Or ever) She’ll cut her hair below her collarbone to the top of her chest, and maybe she’ll try a light light LIGHT brunette (she loves being a natural blonde) with blonde highlights? Who knows

loves espadrilles and wedge sandals

Loves going wine tasting and visiting vineyards, if she’s vacationing? You can bet ur ass she’s looking for a vineyard to visit

Deff a lightweight

Here’s her unpopular opinions on s2: Thought Felix was a wannabe Tim and hates the fact that he follows her, thought graham was unattractive and said so to Allegra who snickered, thought marisol’s clothing choices were rather boring,

didn’t feel 100% bad for Hannah but disagrees with the way Gary and noah spoke about her + the way Gary tried to slide back over to Hannah on her comeback episode

but doesn’t feel like Lottie is wrong for choosing Gary after Hannah left

isn’t a fan of priya but is glad she’s doing fashion since jen strongly believes in if something isn’t making u happy then u need to let it go

Thinks Hope should have won and cannot tolerate Bobby. Feels he’s WORSE than Felix,

would be open to dating Ibrahim or Carl from that szn

has spoken to Harry from s3 due to his drunkenness and actually made a friend out of him? But low key wants to get to know seb? Take that info as u will 👀

Her anthem: Michelle — SUNRISE

[eirenical]

please tell me about "latimerhutchinson" and "tiniest jedi master 01"

[In response to this post.]

(And anyone else who would like to ask about a WiP, please do! ^_^)

I don’t have much written for either of these, but they were ideas I was very excited by at the time and part of me still wants to write?  ^_^

latimerhutchinson

This was based on two of the schoolboys from the 10th doctor episodes when Ten was a teacher in England during WWI.  Latimer was the boy who was just a little bit psychic, and Hutchinson was the boy who bullied him... or tried to, anyway; Latimer always seemed to just shrug it off.  And it became clear by halfway through the episode that between them two of them, Hutchinson was not the one in charge.  And between the way that Hutchinson came to look up to Latimer during that siege and then later on when Latimer saved Hutchinson’s life during the war, I ended up shipping them more than a little.  And I wanted to write something exploring that.  ^_^

the tiniest jedi master 01

This is a fic based on @teapirate​‘s AMAZING fanart series, in which Obi-Wan is a cat (tag: obi wan catobi); there is also a fanart series where ANAKIN is a cat and all of them can be found in the tag: jellicle jedi n the grand puppy army.  ^_^

I REALLY want to come back to this one someday, but it was shaping up to be a MUCH longer fic than I had the brain to write at the time.

And I’m going to tuck both fic behind a readmore, because this is getting a bit long...

latimerhutchinson

Here’s what I have so far (I... warned you it’s not much, right? ;D):

"How did you know that?"

"Who told you that?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"Have you been reading my diary, you little toad?"

"You cheated!  You peaked at my cards!"

"It's the touch of the Devil… the Devil!"

Timothy Latimer learned the value of silence, the importance of keeping his head down, when he was very young.  He hadn't understood, then, that not everyone saw what he saw, heard what he heard.  He'd gotten himself into more than his fair share of trouble over the things he knew before he figured that one out.  He was better about it, now.  He'd learned to appear… not dull, precisely, not stupid or unskilled, but… ordinary. Tim had learned that he must be something that ran counter to everything he was.  He must be… completely average.  Then his occasional slip-ups went unnoticed, unremarked upon or at least easily ignored.  It was his only protection, his saving grace… and the bane of his existence.

It was far too late to save his reputation at home, of course.  There he would always be "that strange little Latimer boy" -- the one who knew too much.  If he were to have any hope of normalcy, he needed to get away from his hometown, away from his family, and start fresh in a new place.

the tiniest jedi master 01

“A passenger, you have acquired, Master Jinn.  Wondering, I am, where you found this one?”

Qui-Gon moved aside to let Xanatos precede him down the hallway before turning to face the one who had spoken. Master Yoda was standing in the open doorway to his quarters, eyes fixed on one of Qui-Gon’s pockets, a small smile quirking one corner of his lips.  Qui-Gon lowered his hand, long fingers stirring through soft, auburn-colored fur, prompting the tiny bundle in his pocket to shift and begin purring in his sleep.  “A waystation that was under attack by pirates.  This poor fellow was too young to be on his own and no one else seemed willing to claim him.  I couldn’t very well leave him, could I?”

Rather than offer his usual quips about Qui-Gon’s tendency to pick up strays while on assignment, Yoda simply reached out one clawed hand for the slowly waking feline to sniff. Quietly, he said, “A great sadness, that would have been.  Right, you were, to bring him here.  To the creche, he should go.”

“To the creche, Master Yoda?”

The kitten stretched, slowly turned to ease each of his limbs in succession, before letting out a mighty yawn, displaying every one of his full set of deciduous teeth.  That accomplished, he promptly turned his head and began to wash, smoothing down whatever fur he had rumpled in the process of stretching.  Yoda’s smile widened, his eyes softening in that way they did when he dealt with the smallest of initiates.  Qui-Gon remembered that look, well.  Before he could remark upon it, however, his stomach suddenly cramped with a fierce hunger pang, one that was severely out of place since Qui-Gon had eaten not an hour before.

Yoda laughed.  “Or perhaps, the commissary, your first trip should be.  Since slept, this little one has, for most of the day, hungry he clearly is.”

By the time Yoda had finished speaking, the kitten had gotten himself turned around in Qui-Gon’s pocket and begun scaling his robe to perch on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, his tail swishing in wide arcs as he dug his claws in for balance.  The hunger pangs took on an even sharper tone, now accompanied by a fierce desire to find something soft and sink claws and teeth into it.  It still took another moment for the truth to truly filter in.  Qui-Gon turned to eye the fierce feline on his shoulder with wonder.  “He’s Force-sensitive.”  

It wasn’t unheard of for an animal species to develop a Force sensitivity of sorts, but, now that he was awake and no longer terrified, the strength of this little one’s sendings were even a notch above that.  As his feelings of hunger intensified and began to overwhelm everything else he was feeling, Qui-Gon was reminded abruptly of how it felt to be in the creche nursery wing at feeding time.

“No… not just Force-sensitive. You think he’s a sentient?”

Yoda slowly nodded

I hope you enjoyed!  ^_^

[somedayonbroadway]

A Newsie Carol Isn’t It Nice That Once Again It’s Christmas Eve

Fandom: Newsies

Word Count: 4K

Summary: One man. Three ghosts. One more chance of redemption.

A/N: So guys! I was just in a production of A Christmas Carol, and I loved it! It was the Alan Menken musical, if you don't know it, I highly recommend listening to it! It's beautiful! (The earlier one. Not the Hallmark one). But yeah... so now thats how we ended up here. I hope to post one chapter per day, it's almost completely written, so keep your fingers crossed.Also, I know y'all really want Crutchie to be Tiny Tim... but guys... C'mon... you know me well enough to know who Tiny Tim is gonna be.Anyways!Please enjoy!

Snyder was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Pulitzer had signed it.

Old Snyder was as dead as a doornail.

For seven years now it had been that way. For seven years Pulitzer had been running this business on his own.

And things were going just swimmingly. Even on Christmas Eve.

Snow was falling fast outside the doors of the large publishing company. Carolers were singing all up and down the streets, blissful and content as they held their jars and boxes meant for that of charity. People tossed them coins and spared them a few dollars.

Not the man walking out of the elevator. In fact, the very sound of the cheery harmonies made him groan as he stormed out into the open.

"Kelly!" Pulitzer shouted as he made his way down into the lobby of his building. "Hurry up, damn it."

A young man, practically a boy, came rushing around the corner behind him, so many papers still in his arms from the meeting they'd had only mere moments before. He had on a pair of worn slacks and a jacket he hadn't buttoned up over a white dress shirt and grey tie. He looked more than exhausted. "I'm comin', Mr. Pulitzer! Sorry, sir!"

The old man turned to him and the young man skid to a stop, the papers and files in his arms falling on the floor as he fell to his knees. He bit his lip as he lowered his head in embarrassment and began to fish for the papers that had scattered every which way all over the ground.

The boss only glared at the young man who was struggling to keep up with him. Everyone around them stood almost eerily still, watching the scene in a tense silence. Pulitzer shook his head and took a moment to watch his assistant scrounge up the files and a few things he hadn't seen before. "What in God's name is that?"

The young man quickly grabbed at those loose, scattered pieces of white paper with so many pencil sketches all over all of them. Some of people, some of scenery, some of random items. "Nothin', sir, 'm sorry, sir," he forced out quickly, trying to laugh it off, as if he had any dignity left after the months he'd had at this job.

The old man rolled his eyes and easily buttoned up his blazer, stepping over the boy on the ground and glaring at the rest of the large room as they gasped and immediately got back to themselves. The room was large and round and practically made of glass. It was beautiful.

And everyone was terrified to step through the doors.

Pulitzer found his gaze drawn to those windows, just at the front of his building where four happy carolers stood, ringing an annoyingly large bell in the faces of guilty Christians and Starbucks goers, knowing they'd toss a few coins into their red, metal basket.

The man's unforgivingly dark eyes didn't leave them for a good while. He fixed his blazer around his thin, tall frame and shook his head again, turning and almost falling into the young man who was finally standing from his position on the ground. Kelly, startled and a bit out of sorts, immediately took a step back, lowering his head in submission.

Joseph Pulitzer shoved past him. "Mr. Seitz!" he cried, causing the man at the front desk of his building to whirl around, even with the phone held at the crook of his neck.

"Yes, sir?" the large, red headed man asked quickly, knowing better than to keep the boss waiting.

"Get those wretched singers to move themselves before the police must get involved," he sighed, almost sounding defeated, like he felt bad for them.

He didn't. Lord knows he didn't.

The man at the phone stood stunned for a moment, letting out a small, nervous laugh, almost as if he though it was a joke. But Pulitzer didn't crack a smile. So Mr. Seitz nodded. "Right away, sir," he responded, unable to do much else.

That was all that needed to be said. Everyone knew not to question the boss. Unfortunately, not everyone had gotten the right amount of sleep the night before.

Pulitzer turned around with a nod only to be met with his clumsy assistant standing with great hesitance a few paces behind him. "But..." Kelly began, biting his lip mere moments later when he realized what he'd done. He lowered his head again, unsure of whether he was welcomed to continue or not.

But Pulitzer had already been interrupted. So he wished to see what his young, blubbering assistant was getting at. "But what, Kelly?"

Taking a small and shy glance around, the boy shrugged a bit. "It's... it's Christmas Eve..." he stated. "They're raisin' money f'r the children's hospital down the street..." he explained sadly, quietly, knowing he was way out of line, speaking to the man who'd given him a job like he was.

Scowling a bit at the information he'd been given, Pulitzer looked his assistant right in the eyes. Those green orbs were terrified of what was coming next. "Christmas is nothing more than a commercial holiday, Mr. Kelly. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be. Christmas is an excuse for a day off and a guilt trip that charities eat up every moment."

The young man bit his lip all over again and took a step back, looking all the more shy and terrified in that moment.

Pulitzer sighed and checked his watch, beginning to walk past the boy. "I suppose you were going to ask for tomorrow off," he practically growled, heading towards the doors where a new client would be arriving shortly.

The young man nodded tiredly. "It's... It's my kid brother, Mr. Pulitzer... he's real sick n'-"

"Give him some tea," the old man order gruffly.

But the young man shook his head in disbelief. "He's only six..." he stated, as if Pulitzer had known that. Finally coming to a stop at one of the desks in the front of the lobby, the young assistant managed to set down his pile of papers. Then he scratched the back of his neck. "Look... I'm all he's got right now, n' he needs-"

The old man whirled around right then and there, his eyes judgmental and ready to rip the kid a new one. "I do not need to know about you family or your hardship. It is not my job to take care of you or your brother or anyone else," he stated rudely, looking the young man up and down, almost in disbelief. "Christmas is by far the most incredible time of year when it comes to working, Mr. Kelly. Either you work or you go home and make no money to provide for yourself or your family. You decide which is more important," he spat.

It was only then that he noted the watery gaze in those forest green eyes. "Mr. Pulitzer... please... I'll neva' ask again..." he promised, as bravely as he could. It was still small and quiet. "He needs me right now..."

The boy was desperate, anyone and everyone could see that much. As Mr. Seitz walked past them to shoo those carolers away, he shot the young man a sorry look but did not speak up to help him.

Most everyone had the next day off. Everyone except for Mr. Pulitzer himself, and one Jack Kelly.

Though, someone else did. "Mr. Pulitzer, Jack has never missed a day! Tomorrow's Christmas Day. He deserves a break." The old man looked over at a small woman. She had fiery red hair that was tied back in a bun at the back of her head. There was a hint of an accent that slipped out with her words. Irish.

Jack smiled at her, a small, sad smile, as if to show his gratitude and tell her to just let it go. But she didn't. She walked closer to them with purpose. "Jack, no one needs to be here on Christmas Day, he's just too afraid to tell everyone he's scared to be alone, or facing the only family he has. So he's gonna come in and work and do something that we could all do on December 26th."

Pulitzer scowled when Jack's eyes widened in shock. That woman had some backbone on her. And when that boy looked towards her, she gave him a wink. So Jack hesitantly looked back up towards his boss who let out a long sigh. "Be here an hour earlier the next morning. But I suppose, if you must, take the day off," he offered between his teeth.

It didn't matter that that was said with such irritability. It still made Jack grin. "Yes! Of course! Thank you! Thank you so much!" he cried.

"Don't get too excited, Kelly. The day's still young," he sighed, turning back around.

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" the young man laughed, nodding towards the woman in thanks as Pulitzer turned back to the door that was opening to bring in another client.

One that Pulitzer would no doubt drain the life out of.

But Jack was too happy to care about that poor sucker at that moment.

He was getting Christmas Day off from the meanest most irritating man in all of New York. And he was on Cloud Nine.

—

"Make sure Charlie reads him 'The Night Before Christmas' n' make sure he has 'The Grinch' with him, it's his favorite..." Joseph Pulitzer could easily be known as the most successful man in New York, maybe even the country. And he did not come to be so successful by letting his employees talk on the phone throughout the day. "Tell him I'll be there tomorrow... I know, but boss's got me workin' late every night n' I neva' wanna wake him. J'st... j'st tell him how much I love him, okay?"

"Kelly!" The man barked. Jack jumped at his small desk.

"I gotta go," he rushed out quickly before hanging up and shoving his old, cheap phone into his back pocket. "Sorry, Mr. Pulitzer..." he apologized sadly, giving the man his full attention.

Joseph grumbled something under his breath and walked passed the young man, into his large office. "Get me Frank on the phone, now. Clear your desk before you go and don't forget that you owe me an hour on Thursday!"

"Yes, sir!" the young man agreed, immediately doing as he was told. "And... Merry Christmas," he called softly after him.

Pulitzer turned around to glare. But he found his young assistant grinning as he got to his work. He ignored the oddly warm feeling in his chest telling him that that smile was somehow there because of him. He didn't need that.

"Oh! Mr. Pulitzer," Kelly called after a moment, just as the man had begun to turn his back on him. He turned back to see the desk phone up at the boy's ear. "There's a call waitin' f'r you already. Your daughter," he stated easily, shrugging a bit when Pulitzer gave him a questioning look. "Hannah just called ta tell me ta find you..."

"Okay, fine. If I'm not back in five minutes, come and get me and get Frank on the phone," Pulitzer sighed, shaking his head as he walked into his office, almost slamming the door behind him.

He thought maybe she'd given up this year. Maybe she'd just leave him alone.

But she was never one to give up.

So he grabbed the phone and held it to his ear. "Yes?" he practically growled out.

"Well hello to you too, Daddy," a sarcastic, feminine voice responded. While he would never admit it, he'd missed that voice. The voice of his wonderful little girl who had walked out on him so long ago.

"What is it, Katherine? I have a lot of work to do, here," he sighed, sitting down at his desk and unbuttoning his blazer. He clicked open his computer to few emails, too many festive alerts and holiday wishes.

He rolled his eyes.

A sigh came through the speaker of the phone. "Well, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to spend Christmas together? My friend Darcy and I were planning a little dinner at his father's house and... I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come?" she asked bravely. Though it sounded as if she already knew the answer to the question she was asking.

Hardly even truly listening, Pulitzer shook his head. "I really am very busy, dear. I'm not in the business of having people pick my pocket without consequence every year," he spat, hating the very idea of celebrating Christmas, having to buy gifts and pretend he cared about each and every person around him.

"We're not asking for anything but your presence, Dad. You don't have to bring anything or buy anything-"

"But your friend Darcy will pester me until I donate to his useless charity." Pulitzer argued, knowing very well how this went.

Just because he was fairly wealthy didn't mean it was his job to provide for others. He'd worked hard for his place in the world, and these people would only try to take it from him. "He's raising money for the homeless shelter, Dad. Money that you wouldn't even notice was gone if you bothered to donate," his daughter countered, sounding more and more irritated by the second.

But Pulitzer was not impressed. "The homeless shelter has nothing to do with me! If you're asking me, they'd all be better to die and decrease the surplus population!" he argued. Then he paused, knowing this wouldn't help the strained relationship he had with his little girl. The one who used to be the light of his life. But it didn't matter anymore. It was beyond saving. They were beyond saving. He heard her trying to speak.

All she managed to do was stutter for a moment, truly unsure of how to respond. Years of this. It was not how it used to be. It couldn't be. "I'm sorry," she finally said, and Pulitzer could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Goodbye, Dad."

"Goodbye, Katherine," he sighed, but she had already hung up the phone.

Vaguely, Pulitzer could feel a sort of regret. He should pick up the phone, call her back. But he didn't.

A knock on his door roused him from his thoughts and before Pulitzer even looked up, he barked at the person. "What?!" Kelly flinched a bit, moving to hide it with a small cough and a shrug.

"Frank is waiting on line one... I'm gonna head out..." he forced out a bit shakily.

Pulitzer didn't have any guilt in him in that moment. After all, who was this man to him? He didn't care about many people. Caring was messy. And Pulitzer was not a messy type of person. "Fine," was all he managed to bite out.

And Jack nodded with a grateful smile. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Pulitzer," the boy wished before rushing off, grabbing his backpack on the way out.

It was only then that Pulitzer realized how late it truly was.

But he didn't care.

He marched back over to his desk and sat down and picked up the phone. "Thank you for holding Frank..."

Because business didn't take a holiday. Not even on Christmas.

—

Walking home was a menace. Hell, getting out of his building was a the real challenge.

"Seitz, I told you to get these carolers out of here!" Pulitzer yelled as he made his way through the lobby. There they were, singing in perfect harmonies and getting a few coins and a couple dollars from people passing by.

The man behind the desk didn't answer. Because the man behind the desk was no longer there.

It was nine o'clock on Christmas Eve. Everyone had gone home. Everyone but him.

Grumbling under his breath, Joseph Pulitzer walked out of the large front doors, practically shoving his way through some baritones as he did so.

Someone caught his shoulder less than three feet out. He rolled his eyes. "Hello, sir! We're raising money to help the kids in the children's hospital! Anything you could give would be appreciated!" It was one of the young men. The rest of them kept singing.

Pulitzer shot them a fake, forced smile. "How about I give you all the sad truth, instead?" he forced out. The smaller man seemed taken aback by the offer, but didn't object to it. "Some of those kids are going to die. You can't save them all."

"But you can try," the stranger insisted, holding out one of the small cups full of donations.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Joseph rolled his eyes. "It has nothing to do with me," he spat before turning to go.

Only to almost run into someone else. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" The short, plump, dark skinned woman apologized immediately. She laughed at herself, her smile bright enough to light up the night sky. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, matching her coat and snug beanie. She seemed overly eccentric and much to overjoyed to be out in the freezing weather.

The old man did not share her excitement, closing instead to push past the caroler who was now standing in the way of his and the cab that was supposed to be waiting for him already.

It was late.

The young singer let out a small cry of offense when he was quite literally shoved aside. And the woman, young and so full of life, gasped at the rude treatment, just after she slipped a twenty dollar bill in with the collections. She turned to Pulitzer who only just stopped as she called after him, "Hey, have you forgotten how to smile, sir?" She sounded hurt, like somehow it was a crime against her.

He didn't care nearly as much as she seemed to. He turned to her, shrugging. "What am I supposed to be smiling about?" he inquired glancing up at the dark sky and then at the even darker world around him, despite the lights that made the stars impossible to see. "These carolers? Growing a year older and not an hour richer? Or perhaps because I have just witnessed such a kind act from such a kind samaritan." The words were spat out at her.

But she was not intimidated in the least. In fact, she stepped even closer towards him. "Life is passin' you by, my friend. You might just miss it." Then she walked right past him and straight into the cab just behind him. Before he could argue, the door was shut and she was gone.

Scowling hard and pulling his coat further around him as the wind picked up and the snow began to fall. "Of course," he muttered to himself. He shook his head and began walking, figuring he would find a cab somewhere along the way.

In Manhattan on Christmas Eve, he couldn't find a single one.

He walked down a few blocks, shivering in the cold and pulling away from everyone who tried to stop him and talk to him. He continued on angrily, regretting his decision to let his assistant leave so early. Kelly would have been useful at that moment, to call him some kind of car, to get him home somehow.

"Excuse me, sir! Can you reach that grate?"

Pulitzer groaned when he spotted the young man, reaching up for a grate at a small bodega. He was jumping, trying to pull it down with force. He could reach the thing. But he just couldn't get it to come down. He was young. In his mid twenties at most. He had pale cheeks and light brown hair, not unlike Jack's, though his was a bit thinner and he was definitely a bit taller than the other boy. "I don't have time or the care to do your work for you." Pulitzer tried to continue on, but the young stranger rushed over to him and put a hand up, trying to stop him, even as he continued to walk on.

"Please, I'll get fired!" he begged, looking more cold than Pulitzer himself, which made sense as all he wore was a button up uniform and a sweatshirt.

Still, the old man continued to walk on, hoping the kid would just give up. "Then I suggest you find a suitable job."

In a single second it got colder. The young man stopped, forcing Pulitzer to stop or else run into him. "You ought ta take the time to do some right, sir… sooner or later you'll be sorry you didn't." The bodega worker walked passed him, looking much less scared or helpless all of the sudden.

A bit more intrigued than he cared to admit, Joseph turned back to the younger man and watched him walk right on by the bodega, snapping his finger. The grate slid down with ease and the young man never turned back only to offer him a small wink. Then he walked around a corner, and he was gone.

An odd feeling crept its way into Pulitzer's chest. One he hadn't felt in a long while. One that was almost a sort of fear. But he kept walking. He kept walking towards home where he could just be warm.

It was so cold.

He hardly made it much farther before another voice was calling out to him. He growled a bit. "Got a coin ya could spare f'r a blind man, sir?"

"I have nothing for you," Pulitzer responded quickly.

But the old man was not done. His long white hair and beard were barely visible beneath the hood of the ratty old coat he wore that was a desperate attempt at keeping himself warm. What was much more visible were the pale blue eyes that pierced through the night. As Joseph tried to walk past him, a gloved hand grabbed at his arm. "I may be blind, but it looks like I can still see betta' than you can," the blind old man spat.

"Let go my arm!" Pulitzer cried, wrenching himself from the older man's grip.

"Oh, neva'mind, sir… go on, get outta here!" The blind man yelled, backing away and retreating back into the alleyway he'd come from. "Come the future, you'll rememba' me," he rasped.

Then he simply waked away, a black stick in hand to help him get around. But those words seemed to echo around in Joseph's head. Even as he turned to continue on his trek down the street.

It was freezing. He had to get home. He couldn't get caught by another person. He just wanted to go to bed.

He walked for a full hour before he could see his home. It was a large house, one many people envied from the outside. He huffed in relief when he saw it. That is when he heard another voice. "Joe…"

It was so quiet, it was almost like the wind. But Joe heard it. He gasped and whirled around, eyes widening, as no one had called him that for years. "Hello?" he called, his voice more hesitant than scared.

He was Joseph Pulitzer. He didn't get spooked.

But he was sure he was going insane.

He picked up his pace, heading straight towards his front door, only to hear the dark whisper again. "Joe..." It was louder this time.

And Joseph shook his head. "Leave me alone," he called, fishing in his pocket for the keys to his front door.

But when he finally found them, he dropped them on the ground. It was just his luck, he supposed. He sighed as he bent to to grasp them, straightening back up only to jump back in horror at the sight he saw in front of him.

A cry fell from his lips when he saw his door knocker has morphed into some kind of face. "Joseph!" it cried loudly. Strongly enough for half the city to hear. He ducked down, rushing to put his hands over his head and try to make sense of out what he'd just seen. Because he didn't understand it. He couldn't. None of it made sense.

Ghosts weren't real. But Joseph swore he'd just seen the face of someone he'd buried years ago.

"What the hell?!" he cried out, turning back to the door, ready to hit it or run away, surely one of the two.

But the face was gone like it had never even been there, and all that was there was his knocker. Pulitzer froze.

He was overly worked and overly tired. He was seeing things. Little things were getting to him. So he took a moment to gather himself, shrugging off the feeling of fright that was still coursing through his veins as he pulled himself together and forced himself to go through his front door.

He practically ran through the door and rushed up the stairs.

He wasn't scared, he was cold. And tired. And he needed sleep.

He slammed his bedroom door shut, refusing to acknowledge the emptiness of his large mansion. He didn't need that right now. He locked his bedroom door and lazily sauntered over to his chair to take his shoes off.

He failed to hear the sound of chains that followed him up the large stairs. That is, he failed to hear them, before it was too late...

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!

[fearfeeling]

CHILDHOOD → YOUTH → EARLY ADULT EXPERIENCES. mentions of abuse (vague & non-descriptive).

not blessed with a loving family, connor grew up with two hard-ass guys in the household (his father and older brother who’s older than him by five years). although he never doubted his mother’s love, she was a bit of a passive character within his life, and therefore made it difficult for him to ever stick his neck out to show how he may have cared. from his early youth, he did love his family. he figured that maybe they were just hard on him because they loved him and wanted him to grow up tough and successful. he knew of some kids who had that type of relationship with their parents.

the problem was, it wasn’t ever really like that. it was like his birth was unwanted. his father never seemed to mind emotionally and verbally abusing him whenever he was not stationed somewhere (one second saying he’s loved, the next telling him he’s a worthless piece of shit, or talking about how he must join the army or else, and yada yada). the man even occasionally whipped out the belt. it, undoubtedly, did harden him, but in the worst way possible. the type of toxic masculinity bred in his household clung to him like a sticky exterior; he grew up like that in a way where he withdrew into a shell of emptiness rather than showing any emotional vulnerability. 

in turn, he was never playful. joy was simply not really an emotion within his arsenal of feelings. he found escapism in school and learning (escapism from the shitty home-life, and from the thoughts of his impending future in the army). he didn’t even care if he was playing alone on the playground in elementary school (which he often was), as long as he was out of the house. he had one childhood friend named tim that he met in second grade, but he moved to another state in the limbo of summer break between seventh and eighth grade and they lost contact. connor’s quiet exterior scared a lot of kids off, even though he was never mean to anybody. he merely had no idea how to connect with other kids, because he knew nothing about cartoons or fun tv shows. he knew about war and weapons and history. that, obviously, never appealed to any other kids at his age.

once old enough, he could tell that the relationship his father had with his mother was already treading on thin ice, and it was all somehow his fault for existing. he didn’t get why, though. he never caused trouble at home or at school. he excelled in his studies. so as far as he could tell, he was just never supposed to be born. and having to live with that thought created conflict within his brain, feeling that heavy rejection within his heart. and god, did he hate it. this was genuine sadness and pain. to know that his family didn’t really want him. he wonders why he never ran away.

when he left for the army, he felt like he was just doing exactly what his shitty father wanted. but hey, maybe, just maybe, he would be good enough for him then. maybe he’d be wanted after he graduated from BCT (usa basic army training) and started to really work in the army. unfortunately, it didn’t change the relationship he had with either his dad or his brother. his father was as emotionally stunted as a man could be, and only found his pleasure within serving, and his brother was, unfortunately, the same. connor, at the very least, found close friends and a passionate purpose during his time in the army. although still a bit naive and socially underdeveloped, being away from home like this, for long periods of time, made him realize he didn’t really miss home at all. he found a family in the army.

it’s only a shame it got torn away from him. the family he found, he also broke apart (they died because of him). and so all these fundamentally little and very big experiences, shaped him for who he is. it’s why he’s got little to say, but when he says it, he’ll be blunt, anyway. it’s why his humour can be so incredibly dry. if people hate him— he’s used to it— then that’s not something he can change, nor would he try to change your opinion on him. he’s just done and seen enough in his life already that he... doesn’t care. he’s tired of trying to live up to the expectations of others. perhaps it makes him apathetic, which can be incredibly dangerous as a true neutral type of character, but there are some other things in life that he does care about that can help balance him out a little bit.

[sarinataylor]

So this Music And Lyrics AU, I’m seeing washed up John from his Gone To Bali years and sunny moppet Roger as the plant-watering lyricist who bounces into his life, but I can also see Roger as the pop idol who has gone slightly to seed encountering the blend of innocent sweetness and zinger put-downs that is John

oh oh oh roger is defs the pop star gone to seed??? in my og version of this au but now im like hmmmmm. but ok so like

roger was part of a band with.... lets say brian and tim (bc well we need a bad guy, and poor tim is the fall guy). time fucks off with the music that brian and roger had written together and makes it big as a solo artist.

brian well. he’s pissed? but also, kinda wants to get his PhD, ya know? it was fun while it lasted, but. it’s not worth bankrupting themselves trying to prove their case, and the bands clearly over now anyway?

and roger, well. all roger ever wanted to be was a musician, right? and tim and brian have fucked off (and depending on the day he either respects brian’s decision or feels betrayed by it) so he’s.... stuck

and he puts out a solo album but it doesnt do well, and everyone’s comparing him to tim and he just. sort of gets in a rut. the music starts to run out and he’s fucking not gonna be the old time wonder working at fucking Sainsbury’s, okay? he’s not. this is not a pauper to popstar to pauper story, no way, no how. 

so he starts.... picking up gigs where he plays their old songs. it’s. it’s not great? but! he gets to play his music, he gets to sing, and he fucks around with his own music back at home but he learned his lesson. he’s not putting out any solo stuff any time soon. it’s fine. 

(freddie is his best mate who is, ya know, also a successful musician? he has a brilliant solo career and he’s constantly trying to convince roger to collab with him, or even just come on tour and drum for him? something????? but roger’s got it into his head that that’s not meant for him, that he fucked up his chance. he’s comfortable where he is even if he’s a little bit miserable.)

ANYWAY john comes to water his fucking plants

and john is, it should be noted, terrible with plants? like he does NOT have a green thumb at all, but a friend of a friend needed a favour for a week or so and

so when he walks in he immediately knows who roger is? cause like. his little sister julie? had SUCH a thing for him when they were teenagers. like, cried when the band broke up. was potentially one of the only people who bought his solo album, and definitely the only person who gave it a 5 star review. and johns like...... oh look at this sad sack of shit. 

which like. roger is. 

and freddie is over too with this lyricist they’ve rumbled up to work with roger for this pop sensations requested song and the lyrics this guy is coming up with are just.... they’re so bad? and freddie is taking a nap on the sofa because it’s so awful, roger looks about three seconds from strangling the guy

and john doesnt even mean to? he’s honestly jut talking to himself really but he comes up with a few lyrics and next thing he knows roger is inviting him to “a small performance tonight” (freddie rolls his eyes so violently he almost falls off of the sofa) and begging him to think about being his lyricist and

john makes the mistake of mentioning it to julie. then makes the mistake of agreeing to take her and. god it’s.... it’s sad okay? like roger is? 35? and doing high school reuinions? it’s just fucking sad.

and what makes it worse is that roger seems to know? like roger isn’t so much as in on the joke as he is.... resigned to it. makes the jokes before anyone else has the chance to. 

freddie finds john to the side of the audience and is like....... pls be his lyricist because i dont have the time and, fucking hell, this might be his last chance to escape the clutches of bingo nights and high school reunions. he almost did a bar mitzvah last month.

and john really cant say no to that

and roger’s fun! like john is surprised to find that misery doesnt come easy to him? like he has his self pitying moments, is certainly the first to say something disparaging about himself and his abilities, but! he’s fun??? his music is good! he had stacks of cd’s just wracked up and when john asks about them roger just shrugs and says, oh you know, just songs i’ve played around with over the past few years

he’s fun and he genuinely believes that john’s a good lyricist. he makes contributions, he’s honest. he writes music like it comes to him as easy as breathing and ok

johns not proud but he sorta has a crush on the guy he thought, like three days ago, was a washed up sad sack of shit

look ok! he didn’t know him! he was jusging the book by its cover! it’s a pretty dingy cover. it’s all marked up and the corners are bent, and like yeah it’s pretty but it’s pretty in that way that’s like three vodka soda’s from crying about how sad it is, deep down. 

(he tells this to roger, one day, once the song is released and they’re a collab team and, y’know..... just a team.    roger is so offended. he’s never even had a vodka soda in his life. give him like one and a half gin and tonics, however)

anyway they work together and get closer (john shares his own Dark Backstory: basically the same as in the movie, he got taken advantage of by a professor at his university who then went on to write a book about it.) and then.......... roger’s a dick

they run into the professor and roger is. he’s projecting. he’s projecting his own issues onto john. like roger needs to confront tim (and not so much confront, but clear the air with brian) but he cant and the root of john’s own issues is standing right in front of them and so he.... basically forced john to confront him

and it goes badly

it goes really badly

and so john is embarrassed and angry at roger for making him do that, and roger is frustrated because it wasn’t meant to go like that (in all his fantasies, he and brian are friends again at the end of it and tim is humiliated in the corner and.... that’s how it was supposed to go for john). and so they both start saying things they.... both mean and dont mean (because the worst things you can ever say to someone are the things just rooted enough in truth to hit home and scrape at their insecurities, but exaggerated enough that you create little pinpricks of paranoia that actually those little truths aren’t so little at all.)

and, well. 

john shows up to see their song performed and

roger sings a song for him

and song that roger wrote

which is a huge, big deal. because it’s not a joke. roger isn’t making a joke with this song, he’s not laughing at it before anyone else can. he’s singing it for john and he means it. and that’s

:)

[coolkidstable]

guess who’s back!

it’s been like a week but i am BACK BABY! as you can guess i have mixed feelings about that entire series, which were amplified by the fact that i actually went to that game - yes, game 4 - as a (slightly early) birthday present from my brother. this is truly just 2.3k words of me being emo and getting personal, but it helped me process everything. and sorry for the lack of a read more but i’m on mobile lmao

i made it clear to both family and friends that i wanted this series to be a close one, for the home team to win each game, and for it to be a hard fought series that shows just how good both of these teams are. (maybe this wasn’t as clear on tumblr, but the decision to step away was made abruptly, though i’m very glad i did it.) that, well, didn’t happen. the canes are a great team, and their success wasn’t a fluke. don’t even try to suggest that. but this series didn’t work for them, for reasons that i really don’t know but may be revealed with time. who knows. regardless, it was a fantastic run and while i wish the ending wasn’t so bitter, i’m so proud of this team and all that they accomplished this season. the future is bright, and this time “next year will be better” isn’t just a hope - it’s a promise.

i really wanted them to score a goal, though. i love tuukka, and i want him to win those two trophies so badly, but i was really hoping he’d give up a goal. obviously, the canes’ chances of coming back to win the series were slim to none, but one last goal would’ve been a way to end the season on a somewhat promising note. and it’s weird and a bit sad that i went to 3 home games this season, and didn’t even get to hear raise up in person - two shutouts and a whalers night for which brass bonanza played instead.

that’s not the main reason, though. i was at this game with my brother, whose main team is the canes, who just got back into hockey late last season, opting to root for his local team over his childhood rangers and getting to see such an incredible run. he just wanted to see a goal to ease the blow, and i was right there with him. it was expected, though, and he’s not crushed or anything. he went to some pretty special games this season, including both the first storm surge and the first playoff win, and he knows that the rest of our family is happy. and really, that’s what it all comes back to - family.

the first bruins game that i have even the vaguest of memories of watching is the 2010 winter classic against the flyers. i’m not even 100% sure if i watched any of it; i just remember asking my dad why they were playing outside and catching glimpses of the game while he watched. he and my mom, once diehard bruins fans, had become fairweather fans upon moving to north carolina in 2003. the bruins, quite frankly, sucked, and games were rarely on tv. meanwhile, the patriots were quite the opposite. the bruins soon started to improve and began to creep back into our lives. i remember the 2011 cup finals, and not knowing a single player other than zdeno chara - the Tall One - and tim thomas - the Brick Wall. i don’t remember much else, but i was there in some capacity.

then came 2013. a series against the leafs. a historical game 7 comeback from a 4-1 deficit. i remember watching bits and pieces of this game on two different TVs - first the main one downstairs, where my dad was watching, only because it was the playoffs. he didn’t watch or care about regular season hockey - i didn’t even know there’d just been a lockout. when he gave up on this game, he went upstairs to go to bed and turned on the tv for background noise while i hung around to say goodnight. we were almost done when nathan horton scored the first goal, and from there, we watched history unfold. i was losing my mind - was this what i’d been missing out on?

from there, i watched the rest of the playoffs, and i haven’t looked back since. first i watched this young undersized rookie defenseman by the name of torey krug take the rangers by storm, then i watched the bruins hand the penguins‘ asses to them in a swift 4-game sweep that began with a shutout on my birthday, and then i watched the bruins lose a hard-fought series against the chicago racistlogos in the blink of an eye. it was a rollercoaster of a postseason, and i spent most of my free time learning about the game and my new favorite player, who i must regretfully admit was seguin. every game brought me closer to my dad, as before the game 7 comeback, i’d never join him to watch sports, or anything, really. in turn, it allowed him to reconnect with the sport he’d once loved most of all.

the next season was a good one as well: my first full season, the first game i ever attended in person, and the bruins winning the president’s trophy. that season ended in disappointment, but it was a good run, and i grew an appreciation for every single member of that bruins team. (nowadays, i guess that attitude is what the kids would call my brand.)

halfway through that season, i discovered hockey tumblr. i didn’t really make content or liveblog or even talk in the tags, and i never made any lasting connections, but still, it was a community that i greatly enjoyed. it also opened my eyes to other teams, and i started to experiment with the whole having more than one team thing - yeah, those were my stars fan days, among other questionable choices that aren’t important right now. this is also where the canes first came into my life, though not as a true second team until much more recently. things were changing, and not always for the better.

the 2014-15 season was fun, though i wasn’t able to watch as many games due to not knowing about r/NHLStreams or anything of that nature. regardless, the bruins just simply weren’t very good, and the season ended in disappointment. a few months later, hockey became very disappointing for reasons i won’t get into, and this coincided with my second emo phase (see: my current url). i ended up jumping ship for bandom tumblr and the life of a panic! at the disco stan.

still, i kept up with the 2015-16 season a little. it kinda sucked, but it was fine. i still loved the team - i just wasn’t really invested anymore. and maybe it was for the best given how busy school was that year. the next season went much the same, only this time, the bruins made the playoffs, i had just about given up on using tumblr at all, and there was this new kid on the team named sean kuraly.

the 2017 playoffs were odd. i hadn’t watched many games that season, and i hadn’t watched a bruins playoff game since the last time i was truly invested in hockey. still, it wasn’t like a switch flipped and i suddenly stanned the bruins again. i spent all the games in that series playing pokémon moon while occasionally glancing at the screen to see what was happening. i wasn’t even truly playing the game; i’d already beaten it and was merely trying my hand at shiny hunting a jangmo’o by hatching dozens and dozens and dozens and dozens and dozens of eggs, nicknaming them, and randomly trading them over the internet. it was mindless enough to pay attention, and pay attention i did.

it was kind of like the rangers series, on a smaller and less successful scale. much like torey krug before him, sean kuraly came out with a bang and made bruins fans love hockey again - or maybe i’m just projecting. regardless, you know he scored the 2OT winner, and you know about the kuraleap. i don’t remember how many jangmo’os named sean, kuraly, and sean kuraly i traded to the lucky people of pokémon sun and moon wondertrade, but the humber was definitely higher than 52. the bruins did lose the series, but i was interested again.

when the 2017 draft happened, i felt a special connection to it by virtue of these boys being the right age to be in the same high school graduating class as me. this draft piqued my interest in a way no other since 2014 truly had (unpopular opinion on 2015, i know, especially considering my favorite player was drafted fourteenth that year), and you know what? it had been a few months since i’d been active on tumblr, but i searched a few tags and started peaking back at hockey tumblr. i was almost convinced i should dive back in and redo my account for the second time, but i had college orientation to worry about, and by the time i returned, the motivation was lost.

until the 2017-18 home opener. you all know i love jake debrusk, and you probably know he scored his first nhl goal in that game (alongside charlie mac). you’ve seen the video and/or gifs of his dad crying. but beyond all that, it was just a damn good game. i had so much fun watching it - in boston, no less, because finally, after all those years trapped in my hometown, i was where i wanted to be - that i just had to get involved with hockey tumblr again. watching on my own wasn’t going to be enough, i knew.

and so, tumblr user @david-pastrnak returned. honestly, that season was fun, but the first half felt like a blur - likely just because it was my first semester of college. i even went to my first bruins home game in november, and though it wasn’t a good one, it was fun. they picked up the season with a win against tampa on the day i met my favorite band, and somehow, that seemed important. soon i saw my first live bruins win on td garden ice, and even went to a few more games, during which i watched as my grandma grew to love hockey and the bruins, bringing us closer together. it was around this time that i truly embraced the hurricanes, too, and having that second team that i truly care about and love has made being a hockey fan so much fun. it was also around this time that i rediscovered my love for writing. things were changing for the better, but they were only getting started. even when the bruins lost in disappointing fashion to the lightning, i knew things were going to be okay - better, even.

the off-season was mostly uneventful, but towards the end and into the beginning of the season, i ended up in a few group chats with others on here. some of these are still active while others are not, but regardless, i connected with a lot more people, got better at making conversation, and, most importantly, found some of the best friends i’ve ever had. you don’t really expect to meet a lifelong friend on the internet, never mind several, but i’ve gotten incredibly lucky!

this season has been special. i started going to games more often, grew to care about every member of this team more than i’ve probably ever cared about the entire team, and made some incredible friends who i’m blessed to know. and beyond me, this season has been incredible. you know that if you’re reading this, so i won’t get into it all. there were ups and downs, there were moments we thought we’d be golfing in april, and now we’re going to the stanley cup final. the last time this happened, i had just started watching hockey and was still learning. i was also a literal child who still thought i was straight. a lot has changed since then, and somehow, this stanley cup final feels like a culmination of everything i’ve been through with and because of this team. winning the cup isn’t just about how happy it would make jake, how much tuukka deserves it, or whether sean would hand it to danton or vice versa. it’s not about watching to see who helps wags lift it without damaging his injured hand further. it’s not even about watching the look of pure joy on pasta’s face and thinking back to his draft day and my bold, unwarranted, yet correct claim that he would be one of, if not the best player to come out of the 2014 draft. no matter how much they mean to me, winning the cup isn’t about the players.

winning the cup this season would be a celebration of all the friends i’ve made, the stories we’ve shared, and the connections we’ve made. winning the cup would be a celebration of how much closer hockey has brought me to my family. shit, winning the cup would be a celebration of kureinen and all our fun memes because why the hell not?

winning the cup isn’t about the players, or the team, or the parade, or the bragging rights for fans of boston sports. winning the cup is about the deeply meaningful and even just the fun ways in which hockey and the community on here have positively impacted our lives.

and even if we don’t, it’s okay. this season has been by far the best i’ve ever watched, and no matter what happens, it’s one i’ll always remember.

but hey, if we do, i’ll get my first tattoo to commemorate it. speaking of playoff promises, from now on, i’m going to have to talk like anders bjork on here so checkurohhhhhhhh

[ldarchive]

all or some of: 10, 18, 19, 20, 25, 28, 30, 35, 36, 39, 40, 41, 42 for the ask meme =) lay all the ari facts on me

ty indigo ilu… shepardposting no limits (HOPEFULLY THE READMORE WORKS?)

10. What kind of friend is Shepard?

the “will give you shit but also go to the ends of the earth” for you type i suppose…he shows his affection thru gentle bullying. he can also be kind of genuinely an overbearing asshole at times, but he gets better with it; it takes him a while to, uh, adjust to having “friends” in the first place. he’s a dad friend if your dad is kind of a grumpy punk with a rude and morbid sense of humor

18. Share a headcanon about Shepard and their LI.

[struggling to come up with something i haven’t talked about a million times] uhhhhhh

kaidan wanted to propose with one of his dad’s old rings but he figured out it wouldn’t fit ari’s finger, so (with his mother’s blessing/assurance that his dad would have been more than happy abt it, etc) he had the gold melted down to make a new ring. in my mind it looks smth like this and yes ari totally cried a little

it also took kaidan weeks of near-misses to work up the nerve to propose even tho he Knew ari was gonna say yes, he was just really worried about getting it right. eventually he just did it on their balcony and ari got surprised and dropped his cigarette and kaidan got a cool new engagement burn scar on his arm but it was nice

19. Why did they fall for each other?

ari fell for kaidan bc he’s not just intelligent, but perceptive; he’s a realist who errs toward optimism and making the best of bad situations; he believes people can and should be better; he has a surprisingly understated sense of humor; he can keep up with ari’s teasing; ari asks him if he’s a romantic and he denies it and then gives, like, the most romantic answer in the world. he’s cute.

kaidan fell for ari bc……. he has big arm. ok but uh i think it’s because he’s, pretty practical and matter of fact and doesn’t care all that much about the social trappings that kaidan continually tortures himself with… he makes kaidan feel Seen and Understood but doesn’t make a big dramatic deal out of everything kaidan tells him, he just treats him… like a person. for someone who’s been living with & defining themselves by their issues for as long as kaidan has, it’s pretty incredible to find someone who just makes him feel like a human being again

20. What are their common interests or hobbies?

a lot of their relationship is like, meeting each other in the middle haha, but there are some things they both enjoy a lot with no caveats:

- cooking! kaidan’s a foodie and it becomes ari’s therapy hobby after me3, so it’s smth they enjoy doing together a lot. they try to do it more often if possible, but their general friday night tradition is to come home, crack open a couple beers, and cook a big meal together

- they are both outdoorsy Adventure Dads… it takes a while before ari can handle more than a walk around the park but eventually he and kaidan can go hiking again and they both rly love it. i imagine theyd be into stuff like camping, swimming, kayaking, etc too dfjnfg

25. Is there something they fight about?

well, everyone gets into arguments occasionally, but i don’t really think they fight all that often… not that they agree on everything all the time, but they’ve both gotten pretty good at talking things out and also deciding whether or not something is even worth arguing about in the first place. when you are dating someone during the apocalypse and don’t have to any time to waste those are both pretty valuable skills haha [i think the most they ever fought in their relationship was post-me3, when ari got out of the hospital and they’d both started to ‘settle in’ to their new lives but it was a bumpy adjustment and they were both going thru a lot of trauma and stress and bottling it up etc. it wasnt a great time but they worked thru it]

28. What would they like to change about the other?

it’s a double-edged sword, bc it’s part of what attracts kaidan to him as well, but sometimes kaidan really wishes ari had more a self-preservation instinct!! sometimes his tendency to charge headfirst into trouble is sexy, sometimes kaidan is tired and sad and it just gets really old

ari wishes kaidan would loosen up a little although, again, the straight-laced military thing (unfortunately) kinda does it for him. he would also take away kaidans chronic pain if he could

30. When did they realise they fell in love?

fr kaidan it was shortly after virmire and it absolutely scared the shit out of him ahaha

ari is dumb so he didn’t really realize until after horizon, which was probably a bad way to figure that out,35. Is there anything they dislike about the other?

ari appreciates how thoughtful kaidan is but sometimes it’s like… a bit… much lmao, he’s not as navel gaze-y as kaidan is so sometimes the process of having to talk everything out gets tiring. for kaidan it’s kind of the opposite, he sometimes perceives ari’s lack of forethought as a lack of care, which isn’t really true, he just works differently

on a much pettier level, ari gets annoyed that kaidan wants to sleep in all the time and kaidan gets annoyed that ari drowns all his food in hot sauce. hello, i worked hard on that steak36. What are their best memories together?

advtykefd cheesy but i like to think they got to take a little bit of leave after me1 so… they rented a log cabin somewhere (not sure if they went back to earth or just a colony planet somewhere?), turned off non-emergency comms on their omnitools and just chilled for a bit… went hiking, had drinks at the tiny bar in the closest small town, holed up in the cabin all day and had sex lmao it was probably the most peaceful week of aris entire life and it left a big impression on him

ofc later there’s stuff like their wedding day, their son’s birth, adopting their daughter etc. kaidan would probably even say, with the emotional distance provided by time, that horizon counts cuz even tho it sucked at the time nothing could have been better than realizing ari was alive

40. Is there someone in the squad of ME/ME2/ME3 Shepard dislikes? Why?

MIRANDA LOL… they just. do not see to eye or get along at all. i find their relationship very entertaining for this reason bc the dynamic of commander & XO who are both trying to be professional but do not respect e/o even the tiniest bit is so funny. theres a convo w her in me2 (i think it might be the one where you can initiate her romance?) where if you choose the renegade dialogue is hilarious to me… miranda makes some snide, passive aggressive comment about shepard based on their background (it’s like “it’s amazing how you’ve managed to succeed despite being _____” lmao) and then shepard is like “OH i get it, you’re jealous bc i’ve been more successful than you and TIM likes me more even tho i’m a big piece of shit idiot?” i love it it’s so funny. they both suck. eventually they do build some kind of mutual respect btwn them but theyre still… not exactly friends. i think in me3 ari was like “damn i hope miranda’s ok” and then when he actually met her again remembered why he used to be so pissed at her all the time lmao. (after me3 tho she saves his life Again and they probably have a lot of time in the hospital to just talk so maybe they do become genuine friends)

41. Are there any important relationships in Shepard’s past that defined their character? /42. Is there someone who had a great influence on Shepard?

just gonna try to combine these i guess,

- his parents, although he only got an unfortunate short time with them, he takes after both of them a lot, and the things his parents imparted on him stuck with him, but especially as he gets older he’s also really aware of the mistakes they made

-the reds, in general. not a really positive influence lmao but. they were his home for years & he learned how the world works through them, for better or worse… it’s why he’s a bit of a cynic, although later he is able to characterize it more as “this shit sucks But we can make it better” rather than just “this shit sucks”

- anderson was the first person ari ever felt saw him as a human being, and it was… a slow-going thing to learn to trust him ahah, but wanting to be worthy of anderson’s approval shaped a lot of his career decisions

[ellana-ravenwood]

Happy Holidays - Batmom x Batfam

Hope you’ll like it, boom (also, when I say “Christmas”, I’m not talking about the RELIGIOUS aspect of it all. After all, Bruce is part Jewish so you know...might as well be happy Hanukah. What I mean is more about being with family, giving each other presents and just enjoying this moment to be with your loved ones if that makes sense ? It’s basically “happy holiday” rather than Christmas...I’m not sure I’m making sense, it’s mostly cause in French, the word for “Christmas” doesn’t have anything to do with the religion and...Uh. WHAT I MEAN IS, I’m not forgetting Bruce’s Jewish origin, I’m not erasing it, however I’m not writing a story about religion but about family time, and use “Christmas” just because we’re the 25th today...if that...makes sense...) :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

-Yes Dickie, going Christmas shopping on the 24th is a stupid idea...No I’m not going to stop calling you Dickie, I don’t care that you’re 24, you’re still my little boy so shut up. Oh no my son, you won't get me that easily this time, it’s your own fault you’re Christmas shopping that late, so you handle yourself on your own. Oh so now you’re pulling the “little boy” card uh ? Well it’s not working. Good luck sweetie, see you tonight for dinner. Don’t be late.

You hung up your phone as your son was saying : “but moooooooooooom...” and smile, shaking your head slightly.

Oh that boy, always doing everything last minute.

You remember the first Christmas he spend with you and Bruce, when he was just a little eight year old boy...how he ran into the kitchen, on Christmas’ eve, panicked, and whispered (thinking you and Bruce wouldn’t hear) in the butler’s ear : “I don’t have a gift for Bruce or (Y/N), help me please !”.

Of course Alfred did help him, and your heart still beat with happiness whenever you think back on that day.

Dick bought (how adorable it was, that he kept all his pocket money just for that) you a necklace, and a watch for Bruce, but more importantly...he called you “mom” and “dad” for the first time, writing in a cute child’s handwriting “for mom” and “for dad” on your gifts, and asking shyly for the permission to do so...

Smiling back at the memory, you put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the living room. You smile some more when you receive a selfie of your oldest son, in a crowd in one of Gotham’s busiest mall, looking desperate, with the caption : “Why do I never learn ? :/”.

-Dick ?

You turn your face to your husband, who’s sitting on the couch and saw you entering the living room, and give him your widest grin. You nod. Yes.

Dick. As every single Christmas for the past fifteen years. The same antics.

Bruce opens his arms for you, and you go snuggle into them, wrapping yourself around his warmth, sighing in comfort.

Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence, in those few hours of calm you’ll have before the entre family will swarm Wayne Manor and surely make a mess. Bruce caresses your back absentmindedly, holding you close to him, and as on its own accord, your mind drifts towards him, your children and Christmas...

************

Damian was the first to buy Christmas presents for the family. 

He would never admit it, but he was just too excited about this time of the year, a time where the entire family would gather (it was so rare to have all of you together at the same time) and just spend quality times all together ! 

He went on the first of December, right after Halloween, to do his Christmas shopping, which you thought was hilarious and sweet. But also very smart, at least, he wouldn’t have to rush like Dick was right now. And oh it was just too cute and adorable to see him that excited about it (though he tried to, without much success, hide it behind an emotionless face as if he didn’t care). 

Tim also went pretty early to shop. 

One day, right after patrol, around six am, he went to one of those 24 hours opened gift shops that were trendy lately in Gotham center, and bought things for all of you.

The next day, there were pictures of him trying to hide the things he bought, glaring at paparazzis that were snapping his portrait...those were suppose to be surprises ! 

And oh it was quite something to see him, half-asleep, coming home at eight in the morning, holding the packages against his chest, and disappearing a few minutes to hide them (Damian always tried to find his gifts in advance...it was a pain in the ass to hide things from him all the time !). 

Jason, bought everything online, too lazy to actually go out. 

But the day the delivery arrived, the way he ran out, making sure Damian wouldn’t put his hands on the presents, was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

 The way he gathered the boxes in his arms, and ran back to his room to hide the gifts while trying to avoid Damian melted your heart...

Cassandra didn’t really understand the concept of “Christmas” and you had to explain it to her. Things got a bit out of hand and you went all the way back to the pagan fest that was Saturnalia. 

You also talked about every single event happening during this time...Cass’ got particularly interested in Hanukah (you guys did this a bit earlier in the week, your own way, just like you did Christmas your own way, not really following the religious standards...) because she knew her father’s mom, Martha, was Jewish, and she wanted to know more about all this because of that. 

You even talked about Kwanza and other such holidays and after hours of philosophical conversation and history, talking about all the damn holiday between October and January, Cassandra finally understood what “Christmas” was, and left the manor for a few hours. She came back with the trunk of her car full of presents, and more excited than ever about the prospect of some quality family time.

It was Duke’s first Christmas with you guys, and you could see he felt utterly sad that you still didn’t find any way to bring his parents’ back from their current state...He’s the only one with whom you went to Christmas’ shop, making sure he knew and understood he was part of the Wayne family forever, and you’d always be here to support him. Always.

It actually turned into a very emotional moment, and some important bonding between you and him...Which was really what Christmas was about in your book, wasn’t it ? Duke thanked you with a clumsy hug, and you didn’t let go until you were absolutely sure that he was loved. 

Dick of course, was always late, as stated before. 

Alfred, was the opposite of Dick, always very organized. No one ever saw him Christmas shop and yet, every single Christmas ever since you started to date Bruce seriously, there was gifts under the tree with all your names on it, from your favorite and beloved butler...It was a mystery really, how he managed this. 

After his parents’ death, Bruce started to hate Christmas. Every single year reminding him that he lost the two people he loved the most in the World, reminding him that he didn’t have a family anymore...And then he found you. 

You kinda tumbled in his life, without any warning, and stuck around. Change his life completely, messed everything up...in the best way possible. Before you, he never expected to ever be happy again and yet...yet you arrived one day, in all your glorious wit and stubborness, and never let him go, never gave up on me, no matter how much of an asshole he was to you. 

The first Christmas you spend together made him feel like he wasn’t doomed to live a life without any hope nor love. The first Christmas you spend together made him realize that...Things weren’t over. There was still beauty in this World. 

Thanks to you, Bruce liked Christmas again. And then, when your children came along...He had a family. Once again. People who loved him, people he loved...people he’ll never leave, and will always protect. 

He always took time off his busy schedule to buy gifts for all of you. Not always expensive, always something you’d want. It was impressive, how he could remember something you guys said once, how he always knew what to get you to make you all happy. 

The thought of all your family members and their approach of Christmas made you happy, but also reminded you of something that wasn’t that great about this period of time. 

************

Being able to gather your entire family in the same place was a fucking nightmare. 

Your two oldest son, Dick and Jason didn’t even live in the manor anymore, and had such damn busy life. Tim was always doing something, and when he had free time, he would sleep, completely exhausted. Damian was often around, being a momma’s boy, but also needed to be alone often. Cass loved to spend time on her own, and would rather be there when it was just you, just one of her brother, just Alfred, just her dad...Duke was also very busy. All of you were, and more often than not, you’d just be able to gather three of your children at a time. 

So when Christmas was coming...Of course, no one would skip Christmas’ eve’s dinner. Oh no. The food called upon them too much. And for some reason, Christmas’ eve was the calmest night in Gotham and so far never really required the presence of the “Batfam” ! As if even villains and criminals spend their time with their loved ones...Christmas’ eve was the opposite of the dreaded Halloween. 

But before said dinner ? And the morning after where you’d all open your gifts ? It was nearly impossible to gather the entire family ! 

And yet, you had to. Not just because you wanted them all there, of course you did...but the reason you had to all be together before anything happened was because you needed to take an “official” Christmas’ photo. 

The famous Wayne family had to send their greetings to Gotham City. It was a tradition, something people in the city actually expected, and a damn pain in the ass ! 

It always took you and Alfred weeks to prepare everything. To make sure everyone would show up, to find a discreet photographer who wouldn’t be tempted to take pictures of the inside of the mansion, or extra unwanted pictures of the family (those would sell for thousands of dollars to any Gotham’s newspaper !) etc etc. 

Oh and let’s not forget the fight to make them wear the infamous ugly Christmas sweaters. It was another tradition, and a joy for Gothamites to see the Waynes in true Christmas spirit ! 

It was awful, to constantly argue with all of them...Dick would hate the color of his sweater, Damian would think it was not the right size, Jason would argue that it didn’t fit his rebel personality, Cass would hate the feel of the wool, Duke would hate the design, Tim would say he was allergic to the fabric, Bruce would just be grumpy overall...But you’d always convince them to wear their damn sweaters. 

This year, Bruce was wearing a navy blue one with snowflakes on it, Dick had a green one with candy canes, Jason a red one with snowmen, Damian a brown and red one with reindeers, Tim a green and red one with the words “ho ho ho” and “merry Christmas”, Cass a light blue one with a gingerbread house, and Duke a green and brown one with a Christmas tree on it. 

You had the same one than Bruce, and chose it just to annoy him. You knew how he hated the cheesiness of those sweaters, and you and him wearing matching ones always exasperated him because the headline of the newspapers the next day would surely be “lovebirds something something” and he hated people commenting on his personal life with you ! 

Your husband knew you did it on purpose, and yet, as every year, when you arrived in the room and he saw you had the same sweater than him, he rolled his eyes and pursed his lips in annoyance...though one glance and a kiss from you and it was all gone. 

The photographer took a few pictures of you, telling you guys how to behave and god all of you hated how fake all this was...You all smiled forcefully (though you had so much practice at fake smiling that it looked genuine), and awkwardly stood there for an hour. 

You then went to choose the picture you’d send to everyone and...The only one you actually liked was one the photographer took without telling you. 

Bruce had his arm around your shoulder and was looking at you lovingly, you were looking back with a smile...Your children were all close, in each others’ arms, imitating jokingly some pictures of some families, acting like they were in a sitcom...and yet it was the best picture. 

Yes. It would always be such a hassle to be able to reunite your entire family, and so much “fights” about those damn sweaters ! 

This year, you had to almost force Damian to wear it, giving him your famous batglare, and Jason “accidentally” burned his...unfortunately for him, you always had a few extra sweaters, knowing damn well each year at least one of your kids would try to ruin their as to not wear them (Cass slashed hers with saber once, Tim “misplaced” it in the chimney, Damian once said that Titus ate it, Dick lost it in one of the pit in the bat cave...Those damn kids). 

Yes, it was difficult...but you’d always manage it (bless was the day Alfred entered the Wayne family’s life, because without him, it would be impossible to organize everything really). A few days before Christmas, you’d all gather and take those damn pictures.

Well, you’d take two actually. One taken professionally, to put on Christmas cards you’d send every single employee of Wayne inc, and a few newspapers so they could post it the next day. One none of you would really enjoy to take...And one, taken by only you, where you’d wear another special kind of ugly sweater...

Barbara Gordon, Dick’s girlfriend and dear friend of the family, to the surprise of many, was a huge knitting fan. It soothed her and it was one of the only thing her mother ever taught her, before abandoning her, her (psychotic) brother and beloved father. 

Every single year, her gifts to all of you would be a knitted sweater she’d make herself, inspired by you all. 

Dick’s was blue, and had Nightwing symbol on it, with his weapons of choice (the two sticks) all around the collar and the bottom of the sweater. 

Jason’s was red, with little hoods, and a “I’m back, bitch” on it (you rolled your eyes at it, but of course, Jay absolutely loved it). 

Tim’s was green and yellow, with little cups of coffee and written : “Sleep is for the weak” on it. 

Damian’s was red and green and had little robins all around. 

Cass’ was dark blue, with written “I’m a motherfucking princess and I can beat your ass” on it, which also made you roll your eyes and made Bruce frown but...That fitted her pretty well really. 

Duke’s was yellow and had an “R” on it, with a bat symbol around. 

Bruce’s was black with a bat on it, very simple really. Always the same...or rather, always seemed the same, as each year, she used a different bat symbol. 

Alfred’s was red and had “sassy butler” written on it, with little butlers all around it. 

Yours was also often the same. It was always written “Batmom” on it, and was in your favorite color, (F/C), even if it wasn’t always very Christmassy. All around your collar and bottom of your sweater were the symbols of your sons’ and husband’s costumes. Of course. 

Those sweaters you’d always wear proudly, because Barbara was important in all of your lives, and her gifts valuable (and funny really..Also very sweet). 

And you’d take a picture in it, that would fit your family’s personality. On this one, Alfred would be in of course (he couldn’t be in the “official” one as he was suppose to only be a mere “butler”). 

You and Bruce would always kiss under the mistletoe on it, making at least one of your children make a “ew” face. 

This year, it was Damian’s turn. He was standing right below you two, in between your bodies, his arms around your waists, realizing you were kissing, making a disgusted face. 

Dick was laying across the floor on the bottom, one of his legs held by Tim who seemed tired but had the most genuine smile on his face. 

Jay had his elbow on Tim’s shoulder and a cute smile too, while Cass was in the middle, holding Duke in her arms, both of them a warm smile on their faces too. 

Alfred was rolling his eyes at you and Bruce kissing of course, one hand on Damian’s shoulder, sympathetic. His other hand on Tim’s who was the closest (one of Tim’s hand holding his).

All of you guys were in contact with each others, showing how close you all were. Yes. 

This picture was your favorite. 

Dick entered your life fifteen years ago, starting this little tradition of a “personal” picture when a ten year old Barbara gave you, Bruce and her new best friend Dick a sweater she knitted...

In your bedroom, on the wall where you’d put all your favorite pictures, was a part reserved for those special Christmas one. Fifteen of them, with the family growing bigger every now and then. But also showing how things weren’t always happy and easy...Two of those pictures were painful ones. One was missing Jason, the other Damian, souvenirs of some of the toughest time of your life...You kept them up though. It was important to remember. 

All your children had copies of the pictures in their bedroom as well. 

************

You were thinking about all that, comfortably settled in your husband’s arms, when you heard them...They had spend the day together, spending precious bonding time between siblings, going out in the snow, going ice skating too. 

They all busted in the living room, their cheeks red because of the cold, their eyes shiny with happiness. 

You knew it was a special day when none of them said “ew” when they saw you and Bruce in each others’ arms, and instead came to you to give you each a kiss and a hug, talking excitedly about their days. 

Dick was missing of course, as he left them early to do his damn Christmas shopping...but soon enough, you heard him rush in and going to hide his gifts, before coming back in the living room. 

Christmas was starting now. 

************

As each year, Alfred surpassed himself, cooking an absolutely amazing dinner (vegetarian for Damian...no turkey was on the table, as your youngest son decided to adopt the turkey as his pet...). 

You all talked about everything and nothing, and not once the subject of your nightly patrols were risen. Not a single time did any of you even think about it...

For Bruce, it was proof that you were made of pure magic. Because there was no illusion there...you were the center of it all. The reason everyone gathered around the table, the reason he and all of your children grew to love Christmas. 

The reason none of them, not even him, the always so stoic and disciplined man, thought one bit about their night mission. Not one single bit. 

And Bruce never felt guilty about it either, no. No Christmas was a special day. The only time of the year when he truly could be completely carefree. 

And it was all thanks to you. 

And so here you all wear, gathered around a huge table full of great food, laughing loudly and searing of happiness, on Christmas’ eve. 

All thanks to your very existence.

************

Christmas would also be the only night where all of you would almost have ten hours of sleep. After dinner, you’d watch a Christmas classic (Home Alone and Die Hard were some of the favorite), and then, after a few glasses of eggnog and good night kisses, would go to bed full and content. 

The next day you’d all wake up completely fresh, and rush to the tree to open your gifts, spend more time all together and realize how much you all loved each others. How much you all counted for each other. 

How none of you could exist anymore with one of you missing...

Christmas was a special day in the Wayne family. 

A day where you could all forget every worry and just spend time with each other. 

A day of pure joy and bliss. 

And though the 26th everything would be back to normal, though things weren’t always easy again and life was difficult for all of you. Though you were still all full of issues and such...The 25th and Christmas’ eve were your special moments of the year. 

A family day. 

A day of love and shared happiness. 

A perfect day.

_________________________________

I wrote this while very drunk, sorry if it sucks ass and if i drifted away from the original requests.. Oops. I hope you’ll still like it. Also : happy holidays everybody <3. 

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckely Mystifying Caucasian Male  by KARA VANDERBIJL

Jeff Buckley’s brief intro before launching into a cover of “Dido’s Lament” is murmured in a ghost’s timbre, barely outdoing the white noise on the recording even at highest volume. His audience laughs, spooked, then the piano opens. “Thy hand, Belinda,” Jeff sings. His is a freakish voice, made all the more odd by the grainy quality of the recording; a high falsetto mimicking the dramatic mezzo-soprano for which Purcell wrote the aria. He wails — his voice almost breaks, but doesn’t. Listening, we want it to break; the melody is too pure, its perfect desperation too stringent for this wild, unpredictable thing. Remember me, forget my fate. It’s this drama, the constant rediscovery and redelivery of a familiar, worked-over, oft-repeated tune that defines Jeff Buckley’s work. Like his voice, each song defies an original genre or mood, turning back to a more primal source. Is it a lament? A mockery? A strange self-issued prophecy from a man who, two years later, would walk into the Wolf River in Memphis, TN and drown? Like many of his other performances, this one (a set at the 1995 Meltdown Festival in the UK) now only exists on the web, maybe even on fragments of a video somewhere. Had Jeff Buckley lived past the age of 30, it might have remained among the other, less-than-perfect detritus of a long and successful career. But when the talented die young, we like to watch their home videos. Their unprotected moments. Their failures, blow-ups, fuck-ups. Anything that might give us clarity about their end: what “brought them to this point.” Short of simply accepting that it was death that did Buckley in, we might say it was the success that got him.

Only four years earlier, Jeff had sung in public for the first time, at a tribute concert for his estranged father Tim Buckley. They had met once, when Jeff was eight, after one of Tim’s shows; two months later, Tim overdosed on heroin. Neither Jeff nor his mother Mary Guibert were invited to the funeral. When Jeff stepped onto the stage at Saint Ann’s in Brooklyn to sing Tim’s “I Never Asked to Be Your Mountain”, most people weren’t aware that Tim had a son, and most people who knew Jeff didn’t know he could sing — he’d patented himself, stubbornly, as a guitarist — so the evening unveiled not only Jeff’s vocal talent but also exactly where it had come from. This pissed Jeff off. If anything, he had hoped to use the brief set as his way of paying his respects, of breaking away from Buckley senior. Years later, when a fan shouted a request for one of Tim’s songs, Jeff looked her straight in the eye and said, “I don’t play that hippie shit.”

Jeff escaped Anaheim, CA, where he’d been born, leaving behind what he described as a “rootless trailer trash” existence. He’d been struck by New York fever. Over the next year and a half, he played at coffee shops and nightclubs in Lower Manhattan, and eventually earned a regular Monday night slot at Sin-é in the East Village, accompanying himself on the guitar. He covered Bob Dylan. Nina Simone. Van Morrison. Singing “Sweet Thing” once, with Glen Hansard, a then still-obscure Buckley drew a crowd — so large that people began pressing up against the windows outside the club — by taking the second verse through a series of vocal gymnastics that lasted fifteen minutes. A brief writing streak with Gary Lucas resulted in two original songs, “Mojo Pin” and “Grace”, that Jeff nevertheless rarely played in his set. Lucas also invited Buckley to perform in his band, Gods and Monsters, early in 1992. By that time, however, the streets outside Sin-é were lined with record label executives hoping to snag Buckley for a solo album. That October, Buckley signed with Columbia, hired a drummer and bassist, and recording for what would be his first and only studio album, Grace, began the next summer. A quick EP, Live at Sin-é was released in November ‘93, documenting Jeff’s coffee-shop years, a time he’d long for intensely almost as soon as he left it. Jeff was not prolific; of the ten songs on Grace, he penned only three on his own. Lee Underwood, Tim Buckley’s guitarist, said once that Jeff suffered from an all too-relatable sort of creative inertia. “[He] felt uncertain of his musical direction, not only after signing with Columbia, but before signing, and all the way to the end. He did not know himself — which musical direction he might want to commit himself to, because taking a stand, making a commitment to a direction, or even to composing and then successfully completing the recording of a single song, was extremely difficult for him. One the one hand, creativity was his calling. On the other hand, any creative gesture that offered the possibility of success terrified him.” To speak nothing of the looming shadow of a father he never spoke of, to whom he was inevitably compared, as well as a sort of dogged perfectionism that plagued his studio sessions.

Spending hours, as he did, overdubbing the vocals until he had reached what he felt was the optimal delivery, Jeff seemed reluctant to pin any one mood onto his work. Andy Wallace, Grace’s producer, had to piece several of the songs together from dozens of takes. The music was in constant metamorphosis, to the point where later, live renditions of the songs sounded different, singular, wed to whatever Buckley had learned or felt or needed in between one performance and the next. He seemed to rewrite them each time. Grace is disparate, wavering between the almost cacophonous landscapes of “Mojo Pin”, “Grace”, “Last Goodbye”, and “Eternal Life”, the hushed, sacramental “Corpus Christi Carol”, and the desperate “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over”. Buckley alternately whispers or wails, seems to laugh and growl, shreds remarkably. The music is a story as emotionally complex as its author — calling it simply brooding or romantic minimizes its scope. In reality it is confused, mystifying, indecisive.

The album, like the EP preceding it, sold in a slow trickle. Jeff’s songs rarely made it to the airwaves. Critics were either charmed by its triumph or turned off by what, altogether, seemed to be a confusing melange of emotions and genres. The French loved it, though, and in 1995 awarded Jeff with the Grand Prix International du Disque, an honor he shared with the likes of Edith Piaf, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, and Bob Dylan. David Bowie claimed that Grace was the one album he’d want with him on a desert island. Meanwhile, Jeff silenced restless crowds in concert halls across the globe with a few strums of his guitar, with a Buddhist-like opening chant called “Chocolate” that hushed chatter until you could hear a pin drop. Only then would he break into “Mojo Pin”. Putting Buckley’s cover of the Cohen song in a separate category — as I undoubtedly must — “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” is Grace’s masterpiece. Jeff introduced it first at Sin-é when he signed with Columbia, luring listeners who had previously doubted his ability to produce a decent song of his own. Back then it was just Jeff and his guitar, sans the divine harmonium intro, the swelling gospel choir, absolutely pure. Lyrically, it’s as seductive as it is sad — as Jeff escalates to “It’s never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder,” a tingle begins deep down. It’s as much the power of his voice as the power of his poetry. He chokes it out, like an old love letter he’s been forced to read aloud.

I will say this about “Hallelujah” — everything blooms from the single, conquered breath that opens it. Buckley is remembered for these quieter contributions, and appropriately so; in a way they serve as auto-epitaphs. An incredible mimic, he nails Nina’s voice during brief moments in “Lilac Wine” and rivals any choir boy with Britten’s “Corpus Christi Carol”, which had been introduced to him by a friend in high school. But it’s palpable anger that colors the rest of Grace, anger that Jeff would take with him on tour and into the beginnings of his second album, My Sweetheart, The Drunk. He butted heads with the bigwigs at Columbia when he refused to make a music video. He alienated friends, his photographer Merri Cyr, and some of his strongest supporters with careless words. Seamlessly integrated into his public image were frequent moments of conflict, uncertainty, and stubbornness, most of them related to his burgeoning fame, and almost always triggered by casual comparisons with the late Tim Buckley. When People Magazine nominated Jeff as one of their “50 Most Beautiful People” in 1995, something snapped. He dyed his hair black and stopped washing it. He wallowed, thin, in giant thrift-store plaid shirts and Doc Martens. On stage, Grace changed: “Buckley and the band were now playing harder, faster, and louder than ever before, transforming slow-burning epics — ‘Last Goodbye’, ‘So Real’, ‘Eternal Life’ and the title track — into rock and roll firestorms that bordered on the metallic. ‘Mojo Pin’ circa 1996 was almost unrecognizable: Buckley screamed so hard as the song built to its thunderous climax that you feared he’d cough up a vocal cord,” wrote Jeff Apter, one of Buckley’s biographers.

Touring took its toll on Jeff; he needed peace and quiet to work things out, to create, but the frenzy of the road worked up a hysteria in him. Once, in Ireland, he disappeared for a few hours in the afternoon and walked around singing and playing guitar in the pouring rain, skipping interviews and a sound check. Another time he arrived so drunk on stage he broke into a rendition of one of his father’s songs. Yet another time, wasted, he fell asleep underneath a table at a show in Manhattan. Another musician would have been thinking of giving the public a second album to chew on; Jeff was just trying to stay alive. Returning to New York in 1996 after two years on the road, he found the Village, which had once afforded him the comfortable hum of cappuccino machines, the safety of coffee shop anonymity, completely transformed. Sin-é had closed its doors. What few shows he did play, he had to advertise under pseudonyms. He needed a quiet spot, a shrine. So, in early ‘97, he went to Memphis. During the last few months of his life, Jeff Buckley lived in a shotgun house which he rented for a paltry $450 a month. He owned little more than a couch, a telephone, and a telephone book. What time he did not spend cycling back and forth from a Vietnamese restaurant he spent lying in the grass in his backyard, or at the butterfly exhibit at the Memphis Zoo. He played at a beer joint called Barrister’s, quietly. He recorded sketches of new songs on Michael Bolton cassettes that he’d picked up for pennies and sent them to his band in New York. My Sweetheart, The Drunk tremulously came together. On May 29th, the band flew into Memphis to begin recording. That night, Jeff sang Led Zeppelin as he waded into the river.

[heathparticles]

Simple Secrets For Working Like An Aged Care Wizard: How To Generate Magical Empathy And Spread Happiness

A few days ago, I attended an educational session on how to communicate with residents [at work] and relatives [at home] at my workplace.  The session was very interesting and insightful in a lot of ways.

We’re a group of about 25 staff members attending this discussion and after attending the session I thought perhaps it would be a good idea to write about it for everyone else who could not attend it.

It all started with an introduction of the trainer/speaker. And followed by a scenario (given to us) according to which we had a fall in our house at night and we were transferred to a hospital. In the hospital, we came to know that we can NEVER go back home and we have to be transferred to an aged cared facility/residential nursing facility.

Being in such a situation was difficult and I felt mentality paralyzed.

We were asked a few questions like:

”How would you feel about it at that moment?”

“What would you feel about your family members?”

“How would you cope with the change of environment after moving to an aged care facility?”

And our answers were Insecurity, Frustration, Fear, Anxiety, and Sadness to name a few of our feelings.  

As a young carer, I felt something at that moment. Something I always felt while looking at all those old faces we care about every time we work at the facility. It wasn’t a good feeling. Perhaps, we can change that feeling by doing more and better. With that, I listened to the speaker as he went on with his session.

His next scenario was on DEATH.

He questioned:

“How would you feel if you come to know that you’re going to die in next 6 months?”

Now, that is frightening. Isn’t it?

The answers were all concerned with losing friends and family, leaving unfinished business behind, and incomplete personal wishes.

All those scenarios made me think and rethink my perspective. And I hope the same happened to others as well.

But here is a kicker, the best part was yet to begin and the session got even better when the speaker started talking about the main topic which was “Communication” as a skill and how useful and effective it can be in our job.

According to him, there are three main aspects of communication that we can use while interacting with anyone. Whether at home or at work:

Power (Attitude)

Warmth (Smile)

Connectivity (Relationship)

I would like to add another (fourth) aspect which I think is also very important:

Compassion (Empathy)

Let’s discuss briefly each one of these and see how they relate to our professional and personal life:  

- Power (Attitude):

Power in this context means “Power of Your Personality” or your “Attitude” towards life and people in general.

I’ll give you an example:

If you’re getting in a resident’s room without knocking the door or asking the permission of the resident, it’s considered as rude and arrogant. Using your power of personality in a wrong way and showing bad attitude will have an adverse effect on residents and hence you will not have a successful professional career.

On the other hand, if you enter a room with a knock and after getting permission, everything will (most probably) work great for you and the resident.

Book Note: To learn more about the power of personality, read a classic book called "HOW TO WIN FRIENDS AND INFLUENCE PEOPLE" by Dale Carnegie.

- Warmth (Smile):

Trust me, "Warmth in your nature and a Smile on your face" works like magic. I have experienced it more than a few times and that’s why I always make sure I have a BIG smile on my face even if sometimes I am not 100% happy. For me, it’s a test of my patience.

Remember, it all comes down to your body language and facial expressions, and how you use them to your own advantage (which is understanding others and interacting with them effectively). There is a science of psychology behind all this. Depending upon the nature of human being, she attracts or repels both happiness (good behavior) and sadness (bad behavior).

Imagine, how a simple smile can create an environment worth working for and living in!  

The other day after knocking a door, I went inside one of the resident’s room wearing a big smile like I usually do. And I was pleasantly welcomed by another smile (by the resident) and a compliment. This is a perfect interaction. We do have off days when nothing is going well. When a lot of residents are not in a good mood but we have to perform in the same positive manner.

Apart from a smile, there are so many different ways, other human beings can be influenced by our body, facial expressions, and human psychology.

Book Note: Learn more about Human Psychology by reading "THE PSYCHOLOGY OF INFLUENCE," a book written by Robert B. Cialdini

- Connectivity (Relationships):

While working in a facility, creating a professional relationship between a resident and a carer and between staff members is of utmost importance. Connectivity or Networking between human beings helps us in doing that.

The session stressed on communicating with our residents in a friendly way on regular basis. We tried to step into their shoes and walked for some time.

In other words, we did an exercise where one staff member did a role play of a resident laying on the floor having Dementia and the rest of us acted as carers bombarding him with questions all at ones.

After a few moments, the staff member acting as a resident was asked how she was feeling when everyone was around her asking her different questions while she also had to pretend she had Dementia.

She answered: NOTHING. According to her, she was listening to these monologues that made NO sense to her because there was no real communication. There was a lack of connectivity.

We all understood clearly that Listening is equally important as Speaking in any conversation. In fact, I believe in an aged care facility, having the patience for listening to residents is one of the most important traits of a successful career.

From human connectivity, relationships are built that help in dealing with all the problems of residents. Don't forget to be curious about their lives and ask interesting OPEN ended questions instead of close-ended questions.

These open questions make the residents think. Such as:

- How did you meet your husband/wife for the first time?

- What was your profession before retirement?

- How many countries have you visited in your life and which is your favorite one?

- How did you make this drawing?

Try NOT to ask close-ended questions with Yes/No answers such as:

- Do you like sweets?

- Did you Visit the USA?

- Do you miss your family?

Again, DON'T get into monologues. Listen to the answers by residents carefully and give them acknowledgment.

Use good physical posture while interacting with the resident at all times. DO NOT lean in and get too close to her. This will make her apprehensive. Instead, always have a difference of a foot in between you and her while you are chatting with her. But when you think she is comfortable, a simple touch can do wonders.

Last week, when I was feeding one of the residents, I held her hand a few times to make sure she is comfortable and she is connecting with me on some level. I could see her expressions change from blank face to a smile in a matter of minutes. As I was telling you, in the beginning, this all works like MAGIC.

Just TRUST ME and give it a go.

Book Note: "TOOLS OF TITANS" by Tim Ferriss (While thinking about Connectivity, asking right Questions, and Body Postures, this is the only book and author that came into my mind)

- Compassion (Empathy):

Compassion or Empathy is essential for the human race to survive. For us, as professionals working in an aged care, it’s way more important as we deal with residents that are frail and fragile. It’s hard to understand others' problems and help them in any way possible if we are not compassionate about our job and be empathetic towards them. And that’s one of the challenges of our job. Sitting with them, having a small conversation while holding their hand helps.

Having an open heart is the only way, you can experience Empathy.

Another Book Note: Read "WONDER" by R.J. Palacio

Now before I leave let me say that I had a BLAST attending this training session and I would be writing more often about such events and other related issues in future for my readers.

[kindaangelic]

Brother Dearest, or Damian's Bonding with Tim

Bruce looked ponderingly at his youngest son, who was placidly milking Batcow in the corner of the cave. In all the time that he had been living with Bruce and his children, Damian had only managed to forge meaningful relationships with his animals, who loved him unconditionally and showered him with affectionate nuzzles, and Dick, who loved him unconditionally, and- Oh. Perhaps there was a pattern to this, Bruce mused, as he watched Dick cuddle up to Tim on the medical cot, squishing the younger boy as he curled himself around him like a snake. “Dick, don't smother your brother,” Bruce called. “Let him rest, he's sick.” Tim gave a sad sniffle as Dick slunk off to go and cuddle Jason instead. That could only end in tears, Bruce thought to himself, watching Dick slide closer, panther-like, to a recalcitrant Jason. Bruce directed his attention back to Damian, who was scoffing quietly at Tim’s pained moans, and frowned. This lack of empathy simply would not do. Bruce resolved to do something about Damian’s behavior towards Tim, but in the meantime, he took a moment to watch Dick try and fail in his efforts to snuggle Jason. ------------ It was late at night - or very early in the morning - as Bruce watched Damian putter around the Batcave in his too-long Gotham University t-shirt, courtesy of Dick. Bruce waited for Damian to walk a little closer before snagging his youngest and plopping him down on his lap. “Father! Have you been afflicted by Grayson’s ridiculous urge to “have hugsies”!? Release me at once!” “Not until I've said my piece,” Bruce hummed, adjusting Damian on his lap. “Now listen carefully, Damian, what I'm about to tell you is very important.” Damian perked up and sat at attention, eager to absorb whatever pearl of wisdom Bruce was about to impart. “You've been Dick’s Robin for some time now, and mine as well. You're doing a good job, and so I would like to give you some more delicate responsibilities,” Bruce said, then paused for dramatic effect. “It is your responsibility to look after not only the animals, but also your siblings, specifically Tim.” Damian made to scoff, but Bruce cut him off, “Your old father won't be here forever, and you know that Tim is sick. He tends to work himself to the edge, and I can't help but worry about what will happen to him once I'm gone.” Bruce let his words sink in, and felt a little guilty at how Damian’s eyes widened at the mention of his inevitable mortal death. “Robin holds the family together, he or she always has,” Bruce added. “Starting with Dick, then Jason, until the Legacy passed down to you. Dick only had me to take care of, but you have your brother as well. So Damian,” Bruce said, meeting his son’s wide eyes, “will you do it? Can I count on you to take care of Tim when I'm old and decrepit? Forever?” Damian squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I will,” he said firmly. “I will care for everyone, including Drake. He will know a love so fierce that he will learn to submit to my tender ministrations!” Bruce frowned at Damian’s war cry, but decided that it would have to do for now. ----------- Tim roused himself from the clutches of sleep, sniffling to clear his blocked nose. He rubbed his gritty eyes and forced them open, only to reveal poisonous green eyes looking right into his. “Agh!” Damian held up a pot of tea and a handful of Strepsils, and said, “Take these, Drake.” Tim hiked his blankets up to his chin in response, looking at the strained expression on Damian’s face. “What at you dong with your face?” “I'm smiling,” Damian hissed through (what Tim imagined were) his fangs. “Oh my god, why, you evil gnome?” The “smile” grew wider. “Because I love and care for you. Now,” Damian whispered sinisterly, “take your medicine, Drake.” “AAGH!” ---------- Tim ran upstairs two at a time, tears obscuring his vision. He had just argued with Conner about his unhealthy (it was not) intake of coffee, which resulted in Conner calling him a hopeless addict and declaring that coffee would lead to his downfall and that he would not catch Tim when he inevitably fell. This had resulted in Tim slapping his mouthy boyfriend and running out of Titans Tower all the way back to Wayne Manor, where he could drown himself in a pot of coffee and Dick’s All Purpose Hugs for Family and Friends. This was how Damian found his brothers, with Tim sobbing into Dick’s stomach, and clutching a bag of coffee beans to his chest. “How c-could he s-say that to me? After all the t-t-times he was upset about Clark, and L-Lex, and I calmed him down?” “I know, I know,” Dick sympathized, and imparted the age old bit of wisdom that Bruce had once imparted to him, “All men are dogs, and he doesn't deserve you.” Hidden behind the wall, Damian simmered with rage. If Drake cried himself sick, then he would make the clone pay. It was time for preemptive measures. ----------- Later that afternoon, Tim received a delivery of a bouquet of roses and a note that read: “Dearest Drake, I apologize for my inexcusable behavior with the hopes that you will see fit to forgive me. Please do not cry yourself into an early grave, for if you do, I shall exile myself to a life of misery in the far reaches of outer space, living with your memory as my only companion. Much emotion and mouth kisses unto you. Yours, The Clone.” Tim stared at the note in abject horror, before inspecting the roses, only to fling them away when he noticed that they were a pitch black colour with a crudely (creepily) drawn cardboard smiley face stuck to them that was saying “I LOVE YOU DRAKE” in a speech bubble. Tim’s resultant shriek was Damian’s indication that the plan had not been successful. ----------- With his original plan in shambles, Damian headed to Titans Tower. He strode inside, stopping when he got to Conner. Conner looked down at the tiny Robin in surprise, and was further shocked when he was yanked down to his eye level by his shirt. “Listen here, Clone,” Damian hissed, “If Drake succumbs to illness because you have caused him distress, I will skin you alive and present your pelt to him to have stuffed and use as target practice. You will make amends immediately, do you understand me?” He demanded, brandishing his favourite knife. Conner went cross-eyed as he nodded while trying to keep the blade in sight. “Good,” Damian said, satisfied. “You will now thank me for saving your relationship with Drake. Though he is the least of us, he is still far out of your league. Come to think of it, we Waynes are out of everyone’s league,” he muttered to himself. Conner continued to stare, dumbfounded, as Damian waited for his undying gratitude. “Bah, you're as dull as an ameboa,” Damian huffed. “Make amends quickly, Clone, I don't want to have failed in my mission because of you.” With that, Damian left, returning to Wayne Manor where he was anticipating Tim’s praise and everlasting worship. ------------ How wrong he was. “Damian,” Bruce said, discomfort written across his face, “come here.” Damian went to Bruce with his head held high, and smirked at Tim who was partially hidden behind Bruce. “Ah, Drake, you're here. Are you going to profess your undying love and worship for me now? It's to be expected, after all, I've been taking such good care of you.” Tim cried in horror as Bruce hid his face in his hands. “You see!?” Tim shrieked, “He's lost his mind! He wants me to love him!” “Of course I do! It is only natural, given my tender care of your person!” “AAGH!” “Damian-” Bruce started, but was cut off by Dick and Jason charging into the room. “League of Assassins spotted on top of the Gotham Metro! They're wreacking havoc in the city!” Bruce gave his younger sons a stern look before ordering them to go and suit up, hoping that Damian’s new obsession over Tim would not be a roadblock in their fight for justice. “Careful, Drake, don't take your old grappling hook,” Damian said earnestly, cutting into Bruce’s thoughts. “Here, use mine.” “BRUCE!” “Yes, yes, tell Father about my caring nature. I'm sure he'll be proud of me.” Bruce shook his head in despair and went to face the horrors of the night, which were infinitely better than the horrors in his house. ------------ “Damian, my Little Beloved, join us,” Talia purred for the millionth time. The fight had concluded, with the assassins having been dispatched by the Bats, and only Talia was left standing. “You belong with the League, it is your destiny!” “Mother, I cannot simply neglect my other responsibilities,” Damian huffed. “I am Robin, I have to look after so many things! I have Gotham, my cat, my dog, my cow, my Drake!” “AAAGGH!” Everyone turned to see Tim flying away as fast as he could, as Dick, Jason, and the wounded assassins collapsed from laughter. Talia looked questioningly at Damian, who only smirked. “My plans must be working, he's probably retiring early to get on a regular sleep schedule. Health is wealth, isn't it Mother? Mother?” Damian asked questioningly as Talia collapsed in fits of laughter as well. Bruce groaned, picking up his wayward children and making his way home. ----------- “Bruce, do something! It's not right, we’re brothers!” “Tim...” “I can't believe Dami has a crush! Awww!” “Shut up, Dick!” “Yes, shut up, son,” Bruce grumbled. “Oh my god,” Jason chimed in, “all that time he spent ‘hating’ Tim was just pulling his pigtails!?” “AWWW!” Bruce silenced his unhelpful children with a patented BatDad Glare (TM) and faced an angry Tim once more. “Tim, I know...” “He sent me flowers pretending to be Kon! He threatened Kon and made him cry! He made me tea! What the heckity heck Bruce!?!” Bruce hung his head. “I'm to blame for this,” he declared defeatedly. “Damian, come down here, please,” Bruce called, which had his youngest skittering into to the cave. “Yes, Father?” “Damian,” Bruce breathed heavily, “I think you may have misinterpreted the specifics of what I told you. When I asked you to take care of Tim-” “It wAS yOu!?” Tim yelled, horrified. “-I meant it in a brotherly fashion. I don't intend for you to care for him...incestuously.” Damian wrinkled his nose and stepped back in horror. “Father, how could you?” He demanded, aghast. “I would never! I have only been caring for Drake because you told me that he was infirm and that I must shower him with attention to make sure he stays healthy! I've been planning and plotting all to make sure that Dake stays in good mental and physical health!” The cave was silent after Damian’s defense of his actions. Finally, Tim roused himself enough to ask, “That explains the tea. What about the flowers and your creepy card, pretending to be Kon?” “I didn't think that you would see through the pretense,” Damian admitted, surprised. “You were weeping like a lovestruck fool, and I was concerned that you would cry yourself to the point of sickness, or be compromised in the field. The pretense was to snap you out of your mood. If left to me, I would advise you that the Clone is not worthy of a Wayne, and that you should discard him immediately. I would much rather you dated a worthy ally or even a foe, or better yet, remain celibate. Clearly, your romantic choices of Fatgirl and the Clone show your impaired ability to judge people.” Tim stared at Damian with wide eyes for several seconds before deflating. “So you were just...” “I was trying to fulfill the mission that Father has set for me! I shall not fail!” Tim burst out laughing maniacally and swooped Damian up into a hug. “Oh thank Satan! You don't have a crush on me! You're just socially maladjusted!” Dick and Jason looked disappointed that their ideas for their own family soap opera had not panned out, and sulked while Damian spluttered in Tim’s embrace. “Damn,” Jason huffed, “The Bold and the Batty just got cancelled. Guess I’ll have to start thinking of a script for my new family soap opera.” “Jason, your siblings do not exist for your entertainment,” Bruce growled. “Ah!” Jason gasped, as inspiration hit him. “But you do! In the next season of B.A.T.M.A.N., stay tuned as Bruce and Ollie get it on in a drunken one night stand! What will the batkids think? OW!” Jason cried as Bruce whacked him around the head. “Father!” Damian yelled, scandalized. “How could you!? I refuse to have that sub-par, arrow-toting, elf as my papa!” Bruce glared at his sons and slunk away into the shadows to ruminate about his two infinitely stupid sons (Dick and Jason), his traumatized son (Tim), his hyper-impressionable son (Damian), and to wonder when Cassandra would come back home.

[shanedakotamuir]

Taylor Swift’s “Beautiful Ghosts” might be the best part of the Cats movie

Universal Pictures

The new song Swift wrote with Andrew Lloyd Webber has a lot to teach us about cats, “Memory,” and fangirls.

“Beautiful Ghosts,” the song that Taylor Swift put words to for Tom Hooper’s upcoming Cats movie, has arrived — and guess what? Swift might be Cats creator and famed Broadway composer Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ideal lyricist.

Lloyd Webber, a.k.a. ALW, is the man who brought the world Phantom of the Opera, Jesus Christ Superstar, Evita, and one of the most recorded songs in theatre history, “Memory” from Cats. (Estimates for the number of artists who’ve covered the song range from 150 to 600+.) ALW is notorious for writing musicals with beautiful music and weak lyrics. But “Beautiful Ghosts” makes a compelling argument that what every ALW musical needs is a shrewd lyricist who was once a teenage girl — and who, consequently, is not embarrassed to embrace the gushy romantic heart of his music.

The song was released November 15 as promotion for film ramps up ahead of the movie’s December 20 release date. And while the new trailer that followed sent us into a grim, slow meltdown, “Beautiful Ghosts” is a good song that suggests niceness can still emerge from this trainwreck of a film.

Here are five reasons “Beautiful Ghosts” is worth a second listen, or several.

1) It adds to our understanding of Victoria, the White Cat

Believe it or not, this cat you’ve never heard of before is our main character.

“Beautiful Ghosts” isn’t a showy end-credits pop song; it’s a new song inserted into the plot of the show. I use “plot” very loosely. Cats the musical is based on the work of great modernist poet T.S. Eliot, set to music by ALW. It’s about ... cats choosing who will go to cat heaven. (Yes, really.)

Not many people remember how weird the plot of Cats is because the only Cats detail most people care about is “Memory,” — a song that musicologist Jessica Sternfeld summarized as “a hit song of massive proportions, by some estimations the most successful song ever from a musical.” But “Memory” itself is such a weird song.

It’s performed by a character named “Grizabella, the Glamour Cat,” a lone, starving alley cat who was once a famously beautiful cat (?!) before she became a friendless, down-on-her-luck feline sex worker (?!?!). She “haunted low resorts” and was exiled by all the cats, until her depression and despair, articulated in “Memory,” finally provokes their sympathy — for which her reward is ... getting to die.

Yup. That’s Cats!

“Beautiful Ghosts” will follow “Memory” in the upcoming film. The cat who sings it, Victoria, is principally a dancer, and in the musical her character is creepily portrayed mainly through her dawning sexual awakening. But in Hooper’s film, Victoria has a bigger role: Now, the entire story is framed through her point of view, and Victoria is a younger mirror of Grizabella.

In “Beautiful Ghosts,” Victoria echoes “Memory” and reflects on Grizabella’s tragic life, as well as her own. “Memory” keeps calling for “new life,” while through “Beautiful Ghosts,” Victoria transitions from “Memory’s” sadness to a joy that’s all her own — through the realization that she loves the life she has. Where “Memory” is fuzzy, with vague hints of former happiness, “Beautiful Ghosts” weaves a mini-narrative of Victoria’s life: Cast onto the streets, apparently by cruel former owners, she distrusts other cats, but eventually befriends them and comes to love her life. With this one song, she goes from being opaque and silent to having depth, complexity, and a backstory that doesn’t involve her being a sex object.

2) It helps us understand “Memory”

Even though “Beautiful Ghosts” is sung by Victoria to Grizabella, it also gives us crucial insight into Grizabella’s life. When Victoria sings lines like, “Should I take chances when no one took chances on me?” she’s simultaneously referencing her own life and Grizabella’s: Grizabella at least knew a time when she was loved and admired, and had human companionship to look back on. Victoria has only known rejection.

Taylor Swift has clearly asked herself, “How can I bring more coherence to “Memory,” a weird-ass song about a cat who is also a sex worker who is also dying and friendless and stuck with her memories of having once been very hot?” The solution, which she provides in “Beautiful Ghosts,” is to give Grizabella slightly more of a past.

In a recent radio interview, Swift described her approach to creating the song — which involved contrasting Victoria’s life with Grizabella’s:

‘Memory’ is Grizabella singing about how she had all these beautiful, incredible moments in her past. She had these glittering occasions and she felt beautiful and she felt wanted and now she doesn’t feel that way anymore.

This is fanfic on Swift’s part. While this glittering history can be implied, it’s not literally in the lyrics to “Memory,“ or anywhere else in Cats — the most concrete detail “Memory” offers is that Grizabella once enjoyed “days in the sun.” It’s a huge bonus to see Grizabella given a more concrete backstory that has nothing to do with her, uh, hanging out in brothels.

“Beautiful Ghosts” explains that Grizabella was “born into nothing” but now has memories of “dazzling rooms” and a time she was not just beautiful, but loved. In essence, Swift has not only crafted a satisfying character song for Victoria — she’s deepened Grizabella and “Memory” too.

3) It’s clearly a song that could be sung by a cat

This is hard! “Memory” couldn’t manage it — the song does not remotely sound like as if it’s sung by a character who is a cat. But from the first line of “Beautiful Ghosts” (“follow me home if you dare to”) the song feels like one that could be sung by a cat — one who has wandered the streets, hearing the voices of its fellow cats in the dark. Victoria sings of the “wild ones” who “tame the fear” within her as she longs to “get let into” the rooms inhabited by the humans she once knew and yearned for love from. These are bittersweet lyrics, but more importantly, they’re lyrics that pretty clearly describe the life of a cat.

The extent to which Swift has thought about how cats feel becomes increasingly apparent when you realize that “Beautiful Ghosts” is a hymn to found family and the alley cat existence, the freedom of a life lived on the streets, and the beauty of, well, a gang of stray cats. (If this is also maybe starting to sound like a metaphor for marginalized communities finding strength in each other after being turned out of their homes, well, nobody knows how to appropriate queer pride like Taylor Swift.)

4) It hints at what a new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical could be like with a smart lyricist who embraces his romanticism

The typical trade-off with Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals is that his lush, lofty melodic lines take priority over lyrics. This approach works to make his songs popular — after all, studies have shown that sweeping, ascendant melodies make people feel intense emotions. But if the lyrics are weak — for example, if characters say lines that feel overblown, generic, or irrelevant to the story they’re in — then the musical as a whole can suffer.

The general wisdom among musical theater fans is that ALW was only truly great when he was composing with his earliest collaborator, the brilliant lyricist Tim Rice. The ALW/Rice shows (Jesus Christ Superstar, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Evita) are fantastic — witty, satirical, and incisive, ranging from complex political themes to rollicking whimsy and charming pastiche. But as good as they are, it’s obvious that they weren’t the kind of shows ALW really wanted to write, because after the team split up, ALW wrote a series of increasingly sentimental shows, from 1982’s generically sad Song and Dance to 1989’s bonkers melodrama Aspects of Love (which I love).

ALW’s later shows’ scores were often gorgeous, full of beautiful melodies. But the plots were often too soapy, and he bounced around between lyricists who frequently paired his music with asinine words. When ALW was working with someone equally as or more talented than he was, he managed to create popular, lasting shows, including Cats and Phantom of the Opera, helmed by the late great director Hal Prince. But ALW didn’t always work with equals who could rein him in. And so he only kept getting more extravagant in his desire to combine deeply emotional musical motifs with schmoopy, overblown storylines. In other words, post-Rice, ALW has always been hampered by his own self-indulgence and the lack of a lyricist as good at writing lyrics as ALW is at writing music.

That’s why a Taylor Swift-ALW collaboration is genuinely exciting. In the annals of ALW collaborators, Swift may be the first lyricist with the range, experience, and stature to stand alongside Rice. But more importantly, she clearly loves Cats, loves the music, and loves actual cats. In that interview quoted above, for example, she discussed Victoria’s cat psychology at length. I cannot imagine any circumstances in which Tim Rice would say, as Swift did in that interview, “I got you. I know what that cat would say.”

And that may be what so many previous ALW musicals have lacked: the enthusiasm of a smart, savvy songwriter who’s also not afraid to unironically love and embrace her subject matter. Taylor Swift isn’t just a brilliant songwriter who credits the lyrics of Fall Out Boy’s Pete Wentz for teaching her to write music with sharp edges and blatant emotive power. She’s also a fangirl. And fangirls know how to deliver deep, smart character studies while amplifying the emotional core of the stories they love.

That combination of shrewd songwriting and passion is what propels the final verse of “Beautiful Ghosts” into something truly great.

5) “Beautiful Ghosts” has a surprise twist ending

Taylor Swift learned a lot from brilliant country songwriters, and one of the common country song traits she likes to carry forward is the “twist.” That’s when the final stanza upends the original meaning of the song and shifts the refrain into something new, surprising, and even richer.

Throughout “Beautiful Ghosts,” Victoria has emphasized the fact that Grizabella still has her memories: “at least you have something to cling to ... at least you have beautiful ghosts,” she sings, and the ghosts are the memories of Grizabella’s life of being beautiful and adored.

By contrast, Victoria herself has always lived on the streets, eventually taken in by the stray cats she eventually began to see as family. Initially, she describes the strays as voices she can only hear in the dark, while she wanders the streets, “alone and haunted.” Later, they become “phantoms of night,” as they lure her into her new exciting life.

Finally, when Victoria has her epiphany that she’s happy with her friends, and she loves her alleycat life, she shifts from singing enviously to Grizabella about the “beautiful ghosts” of her memories. Instead, she sings, “So I’ll dance with these beautiful ghosts.”

The ghosts at the end of the song are the cats! Victoria’s ghosts are flesh and blood, and also have you ever met a cat, cats are clearly ghosts, with their silent paws and their eerie glow-eyes, and their ability to vanish into thin air. (Holy shit, the ghosts are the cats!)

Only Taylor Swift could turn a metaphor about lost memories into a literal description of cats that is also a metaphor for found families and friendship. Don’t argue with me, this is perfect.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/338d6zM