So I Was Reading Some One Of Us AU Stuff And Then

So I was reading some One of Us AU stuff and then

*slams fists on the table* EVIL FORD EVIL FORD EVIL FORD

Happy Grunkles!

About that blacklit J3 page...

(this has been a bit of a response to @skillfulstudio‘s post)

I think the entirety of Fidds and Ford’s story goes to show that making huge mistakes in your life, whether it was because you were tricked or had poor judgement, doesn’t make you a bad person. You have to accept the consequences, forgive yourself, and move on trying to learn and improve from your mistakes. 

“After all these years, I finally know who I am. Maybe I messed up in the past, but now that I seen what happened, I can begin to put myself together again. 

“Thanks for opening my eyes.”

-Fiddleford McGucket, Society of the Blind Eye

It’s never an easy process, as shown by Ford’s self-deprecation and avoidance of people, but in the end, the pain can be alleviated by not bottling your emotions. Finding people who truly care, or people who understand will remind you that you don’t have to face your battles alone.

If anything, this situation adds yet another substantial layer to Ford and Fidds character development and relationship. Not only have they reconnected with their families, but they also have each other to remind them that the experiences and choices they had made in the past doesn’t define who they truly are.

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Child of the pure unclouded brow And dreaming eyes of wonder! Though time be fleet, and I and thou Are half a life asunder, Thy loving smile will surely hail The love-gift of a fairy-tale.

I have not seen thy sunny face, Nor heard thy silver laughter: No thought of me shall find a place In thy young life’s hereafter— Enough that now thou wilt not fail To listen to my fairy-tale.

A tale begun in other days, When summer suns were glowing— A  simple chime, that served to time The rhythm of our rowing— Whose echoes live in memory yet, Though envious years would say ‘forget.’

Come, harken then, ere voice of dread, With bitter tidings laden, Shall summon to unwelcome bed A melancholy maiden! We are but older children, dear, Who fret to find our bedtime near.

Without, the frost, the blinding snow, The storm-wind’s moody madness— Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow, And the childhood’s nest  of gladness. The magic words shall hold thee fast: Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.

And, though the shadow of a sigh May tremble through the story, For 'happy summer days’ gone by, And vanish’d summer glory— It shall not touch, with breath of bale, The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

-Lewis Carroll