#jen has wares
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I jog after the three of them as they head towards the village. I don’t know how they walk so fast in their chunky boots, but they do, leaving me scuttling behind with my bag jostling around childishly on my back. “Hey, Evan,” I tap his shoulder and he glances at me, “I was thinking about what we talked about that day in the park?”
“When we were drawing?”
“Yeah, do you remember we talked about getting detention and stuff?”
He smirks, “Yeah, I remember.”
“Well guess what?” I whip my bag off my back and unzip it, holding it open so he can see what I’ve stashed inside. He stops walking and peers in with disbelief.
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, when you were talking about how you’d had yours confiscated I couldn’t stop thinking about how it was such a waste, you know?”
“Where did you get them?”
Jen and Michelle stop walking too and circle back around curiously to see what all the fuss is about.
“Jude has fireworks,” Evan explains with a mischievous glint in his eye I have never seen before. Jen begins to chuckle into her hand, “Oh of course he does, fucking hell. Judie, where’d you get them?”
“Not important. I was thinking that since it’s a clear night we could let them off.”
Michelle looks uncertain, “Where, though? I don’t know, it feels like a lot of effort, and what if we get caught?”
“Don’t listen to her,” Evan says, voice now trembling with more excitement than I expected he was capable of. “It’ll be fun, c’mon, Shell, we can go over to Dollymount strand. Nobody will be there at this hour.”
“Is it safe?”
“Yes,” Evan and I say together, even though I’m not sure and he likely isn’t either. She looks to Jen who shrugs indifferently and says “Well, why not? It’s a shame to waste them. They’ll only be sitting under his bed otherwise.”
Exactly,” I sling my arm around her, “And who doesn’t love fireworks? C’mon, Michelle, carpe diem.”
“Fine,” she says, “I suppose.”
Dollymount strand, a wide, sandy beach strewn with seaweed and coke cans is dark under the moonless sky. After another wet, miserable week our feet crunch over damp sand further and further down the beach and away from the lights of Clontarf until the night has cloaked us from the eyes of any late evening walkers still looping the seafront.
I shrug my old, ratty school bag from my back to toss it at our feet open, the array of fireworks hidden inside the open, zip-toothed maw of it.
“I can’t see that,” Jen drawls, so I pull out my trusty Nokia phone with the built-in torch and blast a beam of light at my wares.
“I forget what the individual fireworks are called,” I admit, “But, uh, I know I have the spinny ones and the ones that go like,” I try to show them what I mean by drawing a high arc with my hand and then making an explosion sound, “Like that, huh? And that one there goes like pew pew pew, and those ones in the middle are kind of disappointing, but they’re nice to set off in between the others, they go like-”
“Nobody knows what the fuck you mean,” Jen interrupts.
“Yeah I think we should just light them,” Evan glances at me, “Do you need a lighter?”
“Nah, I got one,” We start pulling them out of my bag and sticking them in the sand while Michelle does a cursory check to make sure they’re all actually pointing the right way, which is sensible. I probably wouldn’t have thought of that.
My lighter throws a flickering glow over my hand and I let out a steadying breath, “Okay.”
“Careful,” Michelle pipes up from where she and Jen have retreated back towards the dunes. Evan stays put, and with his lighter he starts at the other end of the line, we light them, one my one, their bottoms exploding in sparks of fire, burning, burning…
“Woah!” Jen whoops as the first one rockets off over Dublin bay, screeching, whirling, ending with a sunburst of light that crackles and drops gracefully towards the sea.
I laugh with delight as the second one goes, then the third, and the fourth, and as I glance to my left I see that Evan is doing the same, his face lit up with glee with the lights of the sky bouncing over his face. I recognise that look, and for a moment I could swear I’m seeing myself.
“What do you think, huh?” I call out to him, and he whirls on me, dazed, as though he’s just remembered that I am there.
“Pretty sweet,” and as he laughs wildly I feel such an inherent sense of knowing and understanding about this weird little emo kid that it makes my throat strangely tight.
“I know how you feel, Evan, it’s like, I can’t ever explain it to people, but nothing really feels as good as doing dumb shit does.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t.”
A dense burst of stars explodes overhead, so big and so loud and so enthralling that we stand beneath it fixated until it vanishes into the air overhead, it's crackling in harmony with the sound of the girls whooping somewhere in the dunes, “I think there's… something about guys like us,” I bellow as the firecrackers begin spluttering and screaming in their liftoff, “Most people don’t understand what it is, or why, honestly, but I do.”
“You do?”
“Yep.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I think I actually believe you.”
Beginning // Prev // Next
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🖋️AUTHOR'S NOTES
READ THE POST + RELEVANT STORY POSTS: PHILLIP
For the first time, we're seeing how Phillip and Jean's relationship is being received by the royal family: Not Well. Phillip had the good sense to prevent Jean from becoming mixed up with the royal family because they correctly predicted that they wouldn't approve of her. We the readers know the positive impact Jean has had on Phillip's life, but the rest of his family are unaware of that and have jumped to many conclusions just based on their prejudices. There's some dialogue spoken by Princess Mary (Louis's cousin) that I cut because it was pretty on the nose, but it involved Mary caring more about Jean's well-publicized thirst traps rather than her being Asian. "I didn't even know she was Asian until the media reported on it," Mary says, an assertion so laughable that even Shelby is confused by it. I cut these lines out because, on top of being blatant, they add nothing. The lines that really matter aren't part of an unhinged sexist rant. In particular, it's this line right here:
"Not everyone is meant to be a princess."
Yes, that's true not everyone is meant to be a princess, and it's the exclusivity that causes these toxic beliefs to come out. In order to become a princess all Jean would have to do is marry Phillip, nothing about her character would prevent her from that rank. However, those already within the system have a lot today about her character regardless. It's almost as if royalty is an inequitable system at its core and those with power will do anything to maintain that inequity so as to keep themselves superior.
This calls to Shelby in particular who, unlike the old blood princesses, has no coherent reason that explains her dislike of Jean. Jean is both uninteresting enough for her to not warrant any media attention, but at the same time is a homewrecking monster destroying the royal family and preventing Phillip from being a good father. It makes no fucking sense.
Below is a screenshot I really wish I could have included, but it's still canon. Shelby's lack of compassion hasn't had an effect on Imogen, it seems. While Shelby seeks to exclude outsiders, here's her six-year-old daughter openly spending time with Margaux, an outsider from birth, blissfully unaware of her mother's illogical prejudice.
READ THE POST + RELEVANT STORY POSTS: NICHOLAS, SCHUYLER, SCHUYLER II
I've stated before that I want to get into the power behind the crown: the palace staff. The staff are the people who really get things done within the royal family. They control how the media reports on the family, government affairs, and liaise with external stakeholders and potential business partners. Obviously, this comes with a lot of power, but on top of this, certain members of staff are not above manipulating their relationships with their bosses in order to get what they want.
Enter Jennifer Ware, Nicholas's shrewd communications secretary. Jennifer and Nicholas have a shared interest in the sense that they're not all that fond of Alex. Both believe he's a huge liability that compromises the monarchy's image. Here we're seeing them work together to control the narrative surrounding Alex. Nicholas relies on Jennifer to get his side of the story out in the press, and Jennifer is happy to oblige as if it further alienates Alex from the main fold.
However, I think there are some underlying tensions there. Nicholas has previously rejected offers to brief the press about family members, mainly Louis, in the past. With Alex however, Nicholas seems to throw away all his standards and seems almost guilty as a result. He insults the quality of the article and states several times that no one will believe it. Jennifer's the one who has to twist his arm a little to insure him "Truth is subjective".
Translation? "If I push this lie hard enough, people will believe it regardless." And, boy, is Jen pushing this story. We're introduced to Nasty Women a talk show meant be a spoof of The View and L0ose Women. Here we see one of the hosts, Blainley, parroting Jennifer's spin on things in a far more aggressive manner. Blainley will become a recurring character and she serves as an example of the corruption that flourishes when the media sells out to these huge institutions. The more we see of her, the more galvanized she becomes.
Poor Tatiana, I'd like to imagine she was trying to take her mind off things by watching one of her favourite talk shows during a painful dress fitting (she is Nasty Woman's main demographic, after all). Instead, she's treated to the hosts shit-talking her child. She was probably so preoccupied, she didn't even hear the insults coming from her dressmakers. Palace staff at Chester Palace are a little too comfortable, it seems.
READ THE POST + RELEVANT STORY POSTS: TATIANA, SCHUYLER, TATIANA
Ah, devoted mother Tatiana, how I'm going to love deconstructing your character. We've seen Tatiana's grief be self-sacrificing and, let's be honest, slightly annoying. Now we're actually getting into the negative side-effects of her being so damn lonely all the time: her affair with her private secretary. Suddenly it makes sense as to why Schuyler hasn't resigned from his position. We also get glimpses of Schuyler's personal life, he has a single daughter who 1) lives away from home despite being quite young and 2) doesn't get along with him very much. We also get glimpses into just how close the Schuyler family is with the Danforths:
"Saoirse likes me. I’ve been giving her hand-me-downs since she was fifteen."
There are several reasons that Tatiana is having an affair with Schuyler in particular, most of them emotional, but the main one being more calculating. Schuyler's position allows him a great deal of power and Tatiana's closeness to him allows her to easily sway him into doing things. We see that at the end of this post, she's getting Schuyler to do her dirty work and "handle" the mess that is Alex's personal life. She's very good at it, she calls him "David" (the first time we've heard Sky's given name) and lays it on thick for him without coming off desperate (which, is what most people see her as). That's a pretty big dick move from Tatiana, considering Jennifer explicitly told her not to get involved. Maybe there is a little bit of defiance in her after all? She did promise to help Kamryn out.
Plus, I love the location of NYC (Putting the Empire State Building in the background such a fun little detail). I'd like to imagine that Tatiana and Schuyler don't actually "see" each other that much, but when they do it's never on Sunderlandian soil. Schuyler in particular seems paranoid about the press finding out and why shouldn't he? Between the two he's the married party.
Also, Tatiana genuinely isn't an alcoholic. But she loves her Merlot.
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Round 8 - Autumn 2 - The Hansen-Wiggins Family
It's a new round and a new day for my Wildflats Peninsula BACC so we return to the beginning with founder Jennifer Hansen-Wiggins and her household. The ROS roll is insignificant as no one has any siblings so let's just begin!
As Autumn began, Jennifer climbed into her carpool nervously. Today could be the day she finally got promoted to Mayor. She was really hoping it would be.
Monique headed into her stall, which had been transformed into a proper brick-and-mortar store called Monique's Miniatures since the previous round thanks to her business grant and Jennifer's bonus.
She got to work selling her wares. There were lots of customers and she managed to reach Rank 4, choosing another business grant as she did.
She got even more customers once school let out and the town's kids and teens could come in and buy toys to take home. However, Monique suddenly realised that Jen wouldn't be home for hours and if children were in her store then Elliott was at home alone. She quickly closed up and rushed home to take care of him.
#sims 2#the sims 2#sims 2 bacc#bacc#wildflats bacc#sims 2 storytelling#sims 2 stories#hansen-wiggins family#jennifer hansen#monique wiggins#elliott hansen-wiggins#hansen-wiggins round 8#wildflats round 8
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Books read: April - June 2022
Mary Queen of Scots – Antonia Fraser
Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery (comfort reread)
White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Colour – Ruby Hamad
I Who Have Never Known Men – Jacqueline Harpman (book club – I think I was the only one in the group who liked this!)
North and South – Elizabeth Gaskell (comfort reread)
One by One – Ruth Ware (I am not immune to thrillers from street libraries)
Klara and the Sun – Kazuo Ishiguro (I am so biased – love everything he does)
Cold Enough For Snow – Jessica Au (BEAUTIFUL)
The Paris Apartment – Lucy Foley (what did I just say about thrillers and street libraries?)
The Ice Palace – Tarjei Vesaas
Bright Dead Things: Poems – Ada Limón (BRILLIANT)
Bunny – Mona Awad (not as bizarre as I was led to anticipate)
The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (whyyy isn’t there a sequel?)
Scenes of a Graphic Nature – Caroline O’Donoghue
The Tunnel – Ernesto Sabato
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead – Olga Tokarczuk (really enjoyed this but not everyone’s cup of tea)
Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth – Warsan Shire (recommend to everyone)
Howards End – E.M. Forster
A Very Nice Girl – Imogen Crimp
The Sea, the Sea – Iris Murdoch (that’s the last Iris Murdoch book I’ll ever read)
The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating – Elizabeth Tova Bailey (good for your health)
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo – Taylor Jenkins Reid (book club - surprisingly dull given the hype)
Dropbear – Evelyn Araluen (SUPERB)
There’s No Such Thing as an Easy Job – Kikuko Tsumura
Great Circle – Maggie Shipstead (was her editor on hols or...?)
A Head Full of Ghosts – Paul Tremblay
Hare House – Sally Hinchcliffe (book club)
The Virgin Suicides – Jeffrey Eugenides (I think I bought this over ten years ago – finally read it)
Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 – Cho Nam-Joo (infuriating in a good way)
Open Water – Caleb Azumah Nelson ( @a11sha11fade !!!!! This was the one I wanted to recommend – it’s absolutely gorgeous and heartbreaking and hopeful and healing)
The Last House of Needless Street – Catriona Ward (from a street library – not what I expected)
My Pen is the Wing of a Bird – Anon (recommend to EVERYONE)
Dream Work – Mary Oliver (comfort reread)
Station Eleven – Emily St. John Mandel
Slouching Towards Bethlehem – Joan Didion
Sorrow and Bliss – Meg Mason (so worth the hype for me – loved it! But not everyone’s taste!)
The Sunlit Zone – Lisa Jacobson
Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead – Emily Austin
Writers & Lovers – Lily King
Cranford – Elizabeth Gaskell
Three Hours – Rosamund Lupton (street library thriller)
The Vanishing Half – Brit Bennett (I so enjoyed this but also wanted more from it)
Flyaway – Kathleen Jennings (It’s niche but I absolutely adored this)
Currently reading:
The Dance Tree – Kiran Millwood Hargrave (please have a happy ending pleeeease please please)
Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales – Gordon Jarvie (editor) (comfort reread – my absolute favourite book from childhood and it is falling apart. Reading these slowly before bed because some of my novels have been TOO SCARY or too sad ha)
#books#reading update#this probably has a lot of typos in it#what is your favourite book so far this year?
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Extended Bio with Lore Book citation
Full Name:
Jessie Jaye, previously Jessica jen Tiberius
Age: 37
Race: Hyur Midlander (Garlean-born)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Jobs:
Deputy Chief of Garlond Ironworks (Business Manager, Accountant, Magitek engineer, Blacksmith, Armorer, Goldsmith, Alchemist, and Chief Cid Wrangler), Activist/Volunteer
Appearance:
Thin and unassuming in build, one would rightly deduce that she spends more time with a quill in her hand than a hammer. She thinks of it as a sign of authority, though her protective headgear signals a certain tendency to overbear and get hands-on if the situation calls for it, or if whomever assigned to the task is working too slowly for her liking.
Nine out of ten times anyone sees her, it’s in the same old worn Ironworks engineer’s uniform. Her face is tired, her hair messily tied, and her expression probably sour, but her eyes show no weakness or weariness, and are as unrelentingly scrutinous no matter how few hours of sleep that she has or hasn’t slept.
Personality:
Jessie is so willing to take charge in difficult situations, one might be led to believe that she actually enjoys it. One would be a fool to believe it, sure, but that’s not her problem (Unless the fool in question is a Garlond Ironworks employee.) Though she tries to keep her work centered on management, where it is most sorely needed, when she does work with the machines, one might call her engineering work “genius.” She would call it a bothersome distraction from the many more important tasks that require her limited attention.
A more astute eye might see a driven yet embittered workaholic who puts more on her plate than she can handle as a matter of course. Then again, there’s simply no one she trusts enough to whom she can reliably delegate. But as it stands, she is something like a support pillar in the tower of the Ironworks: silently bearing the enormous burdens of management and refugee rescue while remaining in the background, almost entirely uncredited, and even at times vilified. This woman is the most overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated woman in Eorzea. Now… why was it that she wanted to leave the Empire? For a “better life”? Hah. How amusing in retrospect.
I imagine you’ll want to know who she is outside of work. That’s a good question that many employees wonder, and that she herself cannot satisfactorily answer. Jessie’s gut reaction would quickly brush it off by saying, “I am no one outside of this place. I am my work.” But hints of a real person can still be found in the few places she chooses to put her passions. It is because of her efforts than Garlond Ironworks is such a well-known brand, both for its technological work and its charitable efforts.
The closest thing she has to a hobby is a very secret interest in fashion and glamour — she is the little-known designer of the Ironworks gear set, after all. Though she herself would simply consider it another form of armor craft and deny making any visits to the Weavers Guild or parcels from one Redolent Rose are anything but work-related. She is just so unused to not just having a hobby, but practicing any manner of self-care, or self-love for that matter.
Biography:
“A Hyur born in the imperial capital Garlemald, Jessie always disliked her parents’ patriotism, and eventually rebelled. She joined a group dedicated to resisting the Empire, where she met Biggs and Wedge and aided in their defection. After making contact with Cid and establishing an arrangement whereby those fleeing Garlemald could find a safe haven in Eorzea, she herself left her homeland for the succor of the south. She has worked for Garlond Ironworks since, and acted as its leader during Cid’s absences. Jessie pays great attention to the company’s bottom line so as to ensure that the Ironworks survives as a sanctuary for others fleeing the Empire’s tyrannical grip. The tricenarian contributes to the Ironworks’ operations by acting as a peddler of their many and myriad wares, including those small-scale models which Biggs crafts in his free time.” - Encyclopaedia Eorzea Vol 1
In summary, a desire for freedom, along with a headstrong resistance to any and all stifling of that freedom, has driven her life choices and life course so far.
Jessie was born (with the name Jessica, though those that value their lives should never address her as such) to two parents that she genuinely loved, and way, way deep down, will always love. Seeing them in poverty, seeing life be so unfair to them and never give them the boons they rightfully deserve, yet so blithely contented and obsequiously devoted to the Empire, was the most painful experience of her life thus far. She believes that by living a better life outside of the Empire, she is doing the best and only kindness she possibly can do. If she can help others live a better life too as well, all the better way to thank them for their hard work and sacrifice, even if such thanks can never be stated, and neither will ever know what ever became of the missing portion of their family and their heart. Even if, as good Garleans, she has undoubtedly been erased entirely from their lives, and they undoubtedly curse any mention of her traitor name with brimstone and bile. It’s what they know, what they were taught. If they could speak from the heart, they would still speak of a beloved red-haired daughter. At least that’s what she tells herself.
“Jessica” did not attend the Magitek Academy, due to her family’s lowered status from not being ethnic Garleans. “Jen” is the highest attainable title in Garlean society for engineers who are not part of the military. That word alone could serve as a name, for how much it defines the entire life — nay, the entire destiny — of a Garlean citizen.
All her hard work, and all their slavish patriotism, for a life of paltry scraps and leftovers from their betters? As the Eorzeans might say, “Fuck that shit.” She got out of the Empire by methods she has yet to divulge, for fear the spread of such knowledge could endanger current or future refugees.
In fact, probably the main reason she perpetually has so much work on her plate is because of the work she assigns herself: liaison, social worker, and sole support network for countless Garlean-Eorzean refugees who are referred her way, or who seek her out. Some of whom will go on to become Ironworks employees, some of whom have never seen the inside of a cerulean engine and never will, but will remember and benefit from her kindness for ever and always. A pro bono endeavor, as the Garleans would say, if they didn’t believe such endeavors futile and foolish. But her secretly kind heart just cannot help but help.
What are some personal goals your character has?:
Jessie would say that the Ironworks’ goals are her goals and vice versa; yet, many of the ideas the company currently espouses and propagates, including working extensively with Garlean refugees, came from the Deputy Chief herself. She is not doing herself or the world any favors by burying her own wants, needs, and individuality. Meeting new people like adventurers who live such unburdened lives should help open her up.
Now that the Garlean Empire as we know it has fallen, one would think the refugee leader in her would have more to say about the issue. But aside from matters regarding the unprecedented influx of new hires, she has been outwardly surprisingly quiet, at times even acting like business as usual, as if the biggest historical event in history didn’t just happen right in front of their faces. Inwardly, she prefers it that way, and has not yet made the effort to sort through her emotions about post-imperial Garlemald, or even the possibility of a reunion with her family. Very nice people who mean we’ll have told her she can’t do this forever. She has now accepted this as a challenge.
Are there any specific plots you would like to happen with this character?:
(( Workplace shenanigans, office humor, is what I want the most. As for serious stuff, there is a lot of possibility in the unpacking of the post-imperial Garlean world. ))
Extra headcanons (At least three please!):
Jessie makes a somewhat annoyingly large effort to not forget to read, write and speak her native Garlean language (analogous to real world Latin, using the Latin alphabet rather than the Eorzean script). Famously, all her own personal notes, tomes, and parchments are written in Garlean, making it difficult for conniving employees to mess with said notes, whether for selfish, prankish, or malicious reasons. This also has the advantage of subtly putting more pressure on The Chief to address her memos rather than delegate them to a junior engineer - what boss would be so rude as to remind another hire of their mutual homeland (if they can read it at all). Or at least, that’s how he took it, nice guy that he is. In any case, Cid has also chosen to follow Jessie’s lead when it comes time to have another one of their heated arguments — what better way to spare others even a small portion of the bad vibes coming from the other side of that conference chamber door than to argue in a language they won’t understand?
As if she didn’t have enough to nag people about, a personal peeve of Jessie’s is poor grammar, and won’t hesitate to correct others on their sentence structure, verb tense, dangling prepositions, you name it. But not if she’s in a good mood at work. Which isn’t often.
Jessie is shockingly close friends with Rowena. Yes, the Rowena. Shocking because a woman of her caliber in the business and adventuring communities shouldn’t have any friends that are not also enemies. But Jessie accidentally made it on to her good side over a business deal and many drinks in Revenant’s Toll. They didn’t mean to connect, really, but perhaps their similarities as lonely women with all-consuming jobs and painfully unforgettable pasts made it inevitable. The mogul might be a good friend and enjoyable companion, but she is also a bad influence, luring Jessie into such vices as drinking, smoking, and :gasp: capitalism.
As for current events regarding the Final Days: During the time of the latest apocalypse scare, Jessie has her nose to the grindstone trying to support the endeavors of Chief Cid supporting the Sharlayans supporting the Scions supporting the Warrior of Light. But she’s used to being an unsung hero. When the situation seemed especially grim after the appearance of the blasphemies, her stone cold countenance did not melt, and her slave-driving work schedule did not relent, prompting much resentment among some engineers, and respect for her steadfast strength in others. Really, she was scared shitless like everyone else, but like every other time, she just hid it better with a wrench in hand and a stiff upper lip. A job well done was the best chance they could give the world at survival, and they all knew that, so the atmosphere of anything has benefitted from her strong leadership at HQ, whilst the Chief got to build a godsdamned spacecraft. Lucky bastard. You should have seen her eyes sparkle when she looked upon that spacecraft, though.
Jessie’s humorously exaggerated workaholic lifestyle is humorously based on the culture of the modern tech bro / brogrammer ((sorry, men, but they deserve it lololol)), especially the Silicon Valley area. Think “I sleep it my office for four hours a night, I drink Soylent for three meals a day, and I’m damn proud of it.” Like the brogrammer, she believes she is doing what in her world is a very important mission to change the world. Also like the brogrammer, she too lives in a fictional world.
As for living space, Jessie lives alone in various side rooms of the Garlond Ironworks workshops in Mor Dhona, Rhalgr’s Reach, and most recently, a small outpost in Labyrinthos, which allows access to the city of Old Sharlayan. She drives her own personal Manacutter dubbed the Lady Liberty.
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Hello. Welcome to RobloxVerse/OmegaVerse Blog, here you can see the fanchildren with the parents
Here are the facts of my fankiddos
1. Amy, Aniela, Mayday, Lisa, Emelie, Johan
Amy is the oldest one in the family, and was born 2 months later after her honorary aunt got pregnant with Miracle
Aniela and Mayday likes to teamup together whenever a disaster happens.
Lisa, Emelie and Johan are energetic and hardworking triplets that were resulted in a multiple pregnancy.
Amy, Aniela, Mayday and Emelie are all bisexual (it means loving both boys and girls)
Johan is gay (means loving a male)
Lisa is a straight-ally/hetero
Their Parents are Lovey Harlow and Rivomp Ware
2. Miracle, Cassidy and Terrance
Miracle is a caring and loving daughter, but she may be angry if you hurt her siblings or her close friend
Cassidy is a frog-lover, she loves frogs and likes to drink juices (credits to galaxxmiko for her)
Terrance surprisingly had fear of dark, but as a teen, he overcame it
Like Miracle, but she had fear of sharp things
Their parents are Liokiu and Annafunshine (my OTP/ONE TRUE PAIRING!!)
3. Cyrus
Cyrus wishes to be like his parents one day
He is surprisingly the cousin of Lovey's children
He has heterochromia, he has black and white eyes.
He sincerely loves his parents so much.
He likes drinking cacao and Tea
His parents are Ashley and Brayden
4. Esmeralda and Josiah
Esmeralda is surprisingly 3 years older than Josiah.
Josiah is shy, but if you know him more, he'll be fun to talk to
Josiah loves his big sister so much like how Esmeralda loves her little brother
Esmeralda is sometimes overprotective, as she is the oldest.
Their moms are Toozaku (Birth Mom) and Jen
5. Collin
Collin is a little shy boy, but is always happy to be with his parents.
He is surprisingly good at cleaning
He is the third oldest of the gang
He likes salad the most, as Esmeralda makes it (they are bffs)
Whenever there's an argument going on. He cries.
His parents are Aspire and Galaxx
Lil did he know, his parents are both trans, so Aspire delivered Collin
6. Tyler, Taylor and Lexi
Tyler surprisingly acts like his mom, Echo, from the past, while Lexi acts like her mom, Echo, in the present. Taylor acts like her mom, Connie
Tyler and Taylor used to have their eyes changed with eye contacts because they were "ugly", but it wasn't true
Lexi is the same age and height as Cassidy. They both are troublemakers 😇
Their moms are Connie (birth mom) and Echo
7. Katarina and Alan
Katarina is a great galaxy girl, she loves solar system just like her dad, David.
Alan is sometimes bossy, despite him being younger than Kat
Kat is a smart girl for someone's age, she always roleplay solar system stuff for her own
Their dads are Null (OmegaMale) and David (either AlphaMale or BetaMale)
Now for Kenneth, the twins named Matilda and Milo (not mistaken for Milo from the search for pizza rolls)
Kenneth is a shy boy, he is sometimes a great boy
He is adopted by Zaz
His parents died, because they got killed by agents, but Zaz saved him from them
He loves Zaz as his father
Matilda and Milo are great twins.
They also see The end V100 as their little brother.
Matilda is the oldest twin
Matilda and The end V100 didn't know about their dad leaving, and they thought he really went to get milk, but Milo knows about their dad leaving, he knows that their dad divorced their mom
Their divorced parents are Just Only and Power Legend, they live with Just Only.
The gang members from oldest to youngest:
Matilda
Esmeralda
Collin
Amy
Miracle
Tyler
Katarina
Kenneth
Cyrus
Anyway, you can ask them, all of them, but not NSFW questions.
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Jen & Matt’s Brooklyn, New York City 1899 row house is a home where cozy meets whimsical and local meets global.
Vintage rugs and a 1930s mirror reinforce the sense of history.
The living room was curated over time. The coffee table is custom made and the slipper chairs are from an antique shop.
The dining room pine farm table was painted bright red and doubles as Matt’s office. A midcentury chest of drawers stands next to a white Hollywood Regency cabinet.
The dining room's toile drapery fabric echoes the ornate patterns of the antique Minton china.
The cute breakfast nook has a display of vintage Jade ware and vintage wallpaper, plus a cute worn antique table.
The streamlined kitchen still retains some nostalgia.
They repainted an old chandelier and kept the brick wall, painting it white.
Botanical illustrations reinforce the quaint mood established by a retro light fixture and a rotary phone in tangerine. A pair of Balinese wedding figures that they picked up on their honeymoon is in the niche on the stairs.
There’s a serene mood in the master bedroom, counteracted with "joyful pops of color," as Jen puts it.
The Lucite lamps on each side of the bed were garage-sale finds that Jen paired with custom-made cotton-and-silk pleated shades.
Vintage girls' dresses hang in a cupboard that Matt painted,
Daughter Esme's bedroom conveys a fairytale quality without a single princess in sight. The antique bed "has imagery that I believe will still be wondrous to her as she grows," says Jen. Vintage girls' dresses hang in a cupboard that Dawson painted
With its brass fittings and handmade tiles from India, the master bath combines classic 19th-century brownstone features with a dash of Turkish. The marble sink is custom-made with unlacquered-brass fittings.
https://www.lonny.com/Home+Tours+2014/articles/oxdQoObqwOM/A+Row+House+Reinvented
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spotify // apple
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When I fall in love with a show or a tv pairing, it almost always comes with the need to group a bunch of songs together that represent the characters, and where the characters could potentially go. To see what I can create in photoshop/affinity. To find the right songs and invoke what I feel for others to enjoy.
I love music and what it can convey.
With Hacks on HBO Max, there’s this supposed dichotomy between the characters of Deborah Vance and Ava Daniels, which starts to disappear as the season progresses and they begin to understand and learn from one another.
Representing this blurring divide, I’ve chosen music from the late 1970′s to the present. Some you’ll have heard. Some will be new to you. Some encompass hatred (Shakespears Sister), deep apathy (Ider), and mortality (Didirri), while others convey a rocky, but growing companionship between the two (Jessie Ware, Crowded House). There’s quite a few songs I’ve chosen that are romantic in nature; Ava’s dream of Deborah has fueled quite the influx of fanfic over at A03, and these particular songs offer up the possibility of a growing relationship and the pitfalls and happiness that can come from such a union.
Yeah. There’s an age difference between the two. But they’re two sides of the same coin, personality-wise, and I think that if the co-creators wanted to stand out from the rest, romance could be on the cards for these characters. Has there specifically been a WLW romance in tv or in film with such an age difference as Deborah and Ava’s? I don’t believe there has been.
We find love in the strangest of places sometimes. Paul, Lucia and Jen have certainly poured gasoline on the fire that is Deborah/Ava with their recent comments. It remains to be seen if they’ll conjure the flames further, or leave it to die out.
Comments welcome, as always. Happy listening!
#hacks hbo max#deborah vance#ava daniels#ava x deborah#deborah x ava#mixtape#music#hacks hbo#hbo hacks
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Well Matched by Jen DeLuca
Get ready to dive back into another small-town ren-fair-obsessed rom-com with Well Matched by Jen DeLuca. DeLuca's third book in the Well Met series brings you two fan favorites, the assured April and magnanimous Mitch.
April's daughter is a senior now, and as her time at the high school comes to a close, so does April's time in Willow Creek. With an empty nest, she had planned to move out of her home and into the city, but first, she has to fix the place up and she has just the guy in mind to help her out. Mitch has always been an iconic confident, kilt-waring, gym teacher who everyone can't help but like. When April asks for help, of course, he says yes... As long as she can pretend to be his girlfriend at a family gathering. He needs to be seen as respectable and settled and April's confidence will surely help him at the latest family gathering. Between home-reno and fake dating, a pretend relationship might just develop into something with roots.
Let me just say I am a big fan of the trilogy as a whole. DeLuca always places her characters at realistic turning points in their lives. New towns, new jobs, and new stages of life all come with different challenges. In a Romance, we can walk through these issues with our characters and the people around them, knowing they will work their way through the problem. It is as reassuring as the romantic plot that comes with it. You know your characters will end up together and their problems will mostly work out. April and Mitch are no exception.
April's struggle with determining her place in town as an outsider is both heartbreaking and anxiety-producing. After retreating from town life as a result of particularly damaging gossip following her divorce, April obviously feels distant from the community. Joining a book club and small gatherings are fine, but she begins to reimagine her place in her community throughout the book. It helps that she has such a wonderful support structure to back her up. While she doesn't need Mitch to fix her problems, he gives her a bit more support and her protective instincts allow her to go out on a limb for him instead of herself.
Mitch needs a bit of support himself as the odd duck in the family who hasn't gotten married or become a lawyer or finance bro. He needs April to help him embrace the confidence he pretends to have. I guarantee you too will be a big fan of an epic verbal takedown to come. He does have a cinnamon roll, himbo energy and I will protect him at all costs.
The banter is funny, the fake-dating trope is wonderful, and, most impressively, the book got me interested in an empty-nester side plot. As someone with neither children nor a home that is quite the feat. If you are already a fan of DeLuca you cannot say no to book three.
As an aside, it is particularly impressive to write not one but two books that focus on public gatherings during the year of our lord 2020. Nevertheless, the renaissance fair continues to be a joy.
Well Matched by Jen DeLuca is set to release on October 19th, 2021, just in time to take out some mulled wine and crack open the rom-com. Thank you, Berkley via NetGalley for providing the eARC of Well Matched by Jen DeLuca in exchange for my honest review.
#Well Matched by Jen DeLuca#well matched#jean deluca#ren faire#home reno#rom-com#romantic comedy#romance#book review#berkley#Berkley Publishing Group#netgalley#mulled wine#read#himbo#mitch and April#rennaisance faire#empty nester#fake dating#home renovation#book blog#romance review#tropes#there's only one bed
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Broken Me...
Ch. 3
Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...
Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunatly have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!
Chapter Warnings: Online bulling, language, insecurities, mean girls. I think that’s about it..
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Word Count: 1779
A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!
Want More? Check out my masterlist!!
****MASTERLIST****
Jensen's POV:
"I can't believe I lost it like that man! What the hell!!" Jensen yelled, throwing his hat across the room, watching as it hit the wall with a limp thump before falling to the floor.
He’d never been so pissed off at himself in his life, the way he ran off stage like that, Y/n probably thinks she did something wrong.
He knew she saw him upset…
He knew she saw him try to hide the fact that I was up there crying like a little bitch...
Maybe that many shots before he got on stage wasn't such a great idea after all...
He was just trying to get numb enough to get through this damn concert without feeling anything. That turned out well didn’t it...
"Dude stop!! You're doing a hell of a lot better than I would be doing. I would have left the convention by now, and would be a blubbering mess somewhere. As far as y/n goes. I think she's fine. I saw her taking selfies with some other fans after the concert was over. Now Richard on the other hand, he saw, he's asking questions. I know you're not ready to talk about all this to everyone, but if you're going to stay at the convention. You're going to have to tell the rest of the cast and crew what the hell is going on with you."
Jensen knew Jared was right, but he couldn’t help the stone face that he gave him as he watched the overly tall man take a swig of his beer.
Even though Jared has the mental maturity of a ten year old, when stuff is going down he usually is right.
As far as Jensen was concerned he was nowhere near ready to talk about what happened between Danneel and himself, everything was still so fresh, so raw, hell it had just happened today!
He knew he couldn’t get into telling people without breaking down, and that was NOT something he was going to do in front of everyone.
It just isn't going to happen...
"I know you're right, but I’m not ready to talk about this with everyone, man it all this just happened less than 12 hours ago! I haven't even had time to process it yet. I'll try, and talk to everyone in the morning if people are asking too many questions. I just can't do it tonight. I'm still a little drunk, I'm exhausted. Probably too damn exhausted to sleep, which means I’ll probably drink myself to sleep…. Don’t look at me like that Jared, I just ….need tonight okay......Put Richard and everyone else off till in the morning if they ask you any questions."
Jared fought the urge to shake his head and roll his eyes, but this was Jensen’s battle, not his, and he had to deal with all of this how he saw best. No matter how much Jared didn’t agree with it..
"Okay I can do that. I told Richard tonight that you would probably tell everyone in the morning what was going on anyway, It was the only way he would let it go. They're worried about you man."
Jensen pushed his hands through his already completely messed up hair, and stood there with his eyes closed, trying his damndest to get a hold of himself. He was tired of crying about this already, and had just happened today, hell it’s not like they were together every day of their marriage, he was practically single anyway… They never even fucking saw each other.. Why did this bother him so much?
"Ugh Jen?" Jared said, sounding almost like a little kid afraid to tell their parents something bad....
"What?"
White hot fear licked at Jensen right up his backbone, it was never good in this industry for someone to use that tone while looking at social media...
"Uh, looks like the video of you and y/n tonight has gone almost viral."
Video of him singing at cons did that all the time so it was no surprise to him that one of him signing with a fan had gotten a lot of attention. So Jensen knew that was just the warm up for the let down, and braced himself…
"Okay, So."
"Well Danneel saw it and, well......"
Jared handed Jensen the phone, and what he saw there made him nauseous, and like he’d been shot in the chest with a 12 gage full of buckshot all at once….
“That bitch..”
............................................................
Your POV:
Walking back through the door of your hotel room you fall face first on the bed.
Exhaustion was a very real thing, but you still had a lot of adrenaline pumping through you, way too much to sleep right now. Your mind racing a thousand miles a second. Analyzing everything that had happened tonight almost to a fault.
Did I dream that or did it really happen?
What's going on with Jensen?
Why was he so upset?
Were Richard and I the only ones that noticed?
Jared obviously saw?
Every time you think about it your skin would tingle where Jensen had touched you. Hell by the time the two of you hand ended the song he was seriously so close for just a moment you thought he was going to kiss you.
Thank God he didn't...
Cause you probably would have passed out in his arms...
Which probably wouldn't have been a bad thing, if you were alone, and not on a stage in front of hundreds of people with cameras and smartphones.
Not cool...
With that thought you picked up your phone, and saw literally hundreds of twitter, facebook, and Instagram notifications on your phone.
Your eyes bulging out of your head as you scrolled through twitter, the video of Jensen and yourself had gone almost viral.
Your head started spinning and you honestly felt like you were going to throw up. Everyone seemed to like it, that wasn't the thing. The SPN fandom was seriously awesome that way, and for the most part everyone supported each other in one way or another...
It was the post from Danneel that shook you from your head to your toes...
"Y/f/n!! Get your ass over here!!" You yelled toward the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth. The room was spinning slightly as you read the tweet over and over again, as if you could make it disappear from the world wide web by sheer willpower...
"What?" She yelled back, running toward the bed, a look of concern on her face.
She knew your tone had changed from joking in the elevator to almost sheer panic.
"What is it?" She asked, taking the phone out of your hand.
"Dang...Poor Jensen!!" She said, staring stocked at the phone. She was staring at the phone in slack jaw shock probably like the rest of the fandom at the moment.. You knew this was just the calm before the storm though, and you were about to be under fire form some of the more hardcore fans in the fandom...
"Well he was having a harder time than what it looks like on the video." You said, she looked at you completely lost. Apparently the audience didn't catch it. A moment ago you would have been relieved, now though you wished they would have just seen him..
Then man was a damn good actor...
"That part in the video that looks like he's kissing my neck….. He wasn't. He had started to cry, and was wiping his face." You mummer, guilt rocking you to your core for agreeing to sing that song with him now that you knew what was going on with him...
"Bullshit!" She yelled. "Why didn't you tell me he was that upset!"
“I thought it wasn't any of our business! What was going on with him was obviously not intended to be a public thing. So I kept my mouth shut out of respect." You shot back.
Looking down at the tweet you still couldn’t believe what you were seeing was really happening..
The tweet was a repost of the video of Jensen and yourself singing. That wasn’t the problem. It was the comment above that made you nauseous.
Well since Jensen seems to have ALREADY moved on to basically screwing fans on a live stage!! Looks like I OWE my fans the explanation! Jensen and I are getting a DIVORCE!!! WE ARE NO LONGER TOGETHER!! I don't know who this girl is, but baby girl RUN!! I PROMISE YOU DON'T WANT THAT!!!
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A few hours later you found yourself still awake and staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight no matter how you sliced it..
You couldn’t believe she did that..
She doesn't even know you!!!
Some fans jumped to your immediate defense, telling her to go screw herself, and that didn’t happen the way the video was making it look, that it was a lot more innocent in person.
Then there were some ‘Jensen always deserved better than you anyways’.
That It was just a performance... Meaning nothing and she needed to get over her high and mighty act...
Jensen was a sweetheart. He was probably totally heartbroken, and she was a bitch...
Then there were some that were attacking you...
"She's just a whore. He'll come crawling back."
"He's a jackass you deserve better."
"She wont even last with him a week."
"She's just a side bitch."
"She's ugly, he downgraded."
"OMG I didn't know Jensen was into fat girls!"
They cut deeper than a stranger's opinion of you probably should have. Especially that last one. You weren't fat by any means, but you also weren't hide stretched over the bones.
You had curves.
Your stomach wasn't perfectly fat.
Your thighs touched together when you walked.
You didn't have a model body, but hell Marline Monroe was fatter than you are!!
You and Jensen we're NOT together in any sense of the word, and by no means was he practically “Screwing you” on stage tonight..
A slight knock on the door disturbed your thoughts, and you looked over to y/f/n.
She was still knocked out.
So you quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen down your face, dragging yourself out of bed. You got up and looked through the peephole in the door, but all you could see was a white t-shirt.
You unlock the door, and peck through the crack to see who was standing there at this hour in the night, and who you saw nearly knocked you on your ass for the second time tonight..
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Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler
Binge Tag: @sarahbaker2010
#jensen ackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles fanfic#jensen ackles series#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#jensen x reader#jensen x you#dark fic#hurt!jensen#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#jawritter
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beginning - previous - next
Mrs. Jennifer Ware is the communications secretary to Nicholas and his mother. David Schuyler, who's appeared before and has been mentioned several times, is private secretary to Nicholas/Tatiana and is one of Alex's Godparents. "The people upstairs" refers to the only people "above" Nicholas's office: Louis's household and staff.
[DOCTOR] Your Royal Highness, this is Grace. She and her mother have been staying at Amanda’s House for three months.
[ALEX] It’s very nice to meet you, Grace. You’ve got my daughter’s name. Well, half her name.
[GRACE] You have a daughter?
[ALEX] Yeah, she’s around your age, too.
[GRACE] Is she a princess?
[ALEX] No, she’s an ordinary girl.
[GRACE] Does she go to school?
[SCHUYLER] I don’t understand why he chose to bring her up like that.
[JENNIFER WARE] That isn’t even the worst part.
[ALEX] Maybe when you’re feeling better you can return to school.
[SCHUYLER] Jesus Christ, why would he . . . ? I’ve seen enough; turn it off.
[JENNIFER WARE] You know what I’m about to say, don’t you? I was just telling Julianne the other day, like, what is it? “Julie, Am I a fucking mute or something?” I’ve said this so many times: Prince Alexander is not his brother—
[SCHUYLER] I know, I know—
[JENNIFR WARE] You cannot just throw him into the wild unprepared.
[JENNIFER WARE] He needs notes, Sky! In bullet points and bold or else he won’t fucking read them! He’ll just skim them on his way there and the next thing you know, we have a member of the royal family telling a little girl in palliative care that she’ll get better one day.
[SCHUYLER] Jen, it was an honest mistake.
[JENNIFER WARE] Maybe so, but The Charlatan purchased the rights to that clip yesterday afternoon. This morning they uploaded it to Facebook. Our little mistake sits at over seven-hundred-fifty-thousand views. Over fifty-kay comments, the vast majority of them derisive in nature.
[JENNIFER WARE] The reputation of our second-in-line is holding on by a thread. It’s just been free-falling ever since he left the Prime Minister’s daughter. Even in the press briefings I’ve noticed a change in . . . temperature. That’s why I’ve waylaid you before the meeting. This is too intimate to bring up in front of the others.
[JENNIFER WARE] Listen, I feel for you. You and him were friends. The rest of us were just his employees.
[SCHUYLER] I’ve been here since 6 a.m., whatever emotional pandering you’re about to do, please make it quick.
[JENNIFER WARE] Fine, I’ll summarize. You know those boys, you’ve known them since they were babies. Most people stay with the palace, what, five, six years? You’ve been here for fifteen.
[SCHULERY] There aren’t many opportunities outside the palace. The job market isn’t the best.
[JENNIFER WARE] Don’t bullshit me. You’d began the process of transitioning out back in 2017. Everyone knows what happened.
[SCHUYLER] The late Prince of Danforth’s death was an unprecedented crisis. The family needed me.
[JENNIFER WARE] Right. And they still need you. We’re representing the future King of Sunderland, we can’t have stories of dysfunction and incompetence going to print every Sunday.
[JENNIFER WARE] Talk to those boys. Not as a private secretary, but as a surrogate father.
[SCHUYLER] I doubt they consider me as such. Well, you’re all they have.
[JENNIFER WARE] God knows you give them more attention than your own child.
[SCHUYLER] Yes, for all the good it does. Neither are keen on listening to my advice.
[JENNIFER WARE] That’s not what the people upstairs think. They think you were the one who pressured Prince Nicholas into seeing a therapist. Oh, and one last thing: they were also saw the little clip I just showed you. The meeting you set up between Prince Alexander and The King has been canceled. Like I said: these mistakes have consequences. Talk to those boys.
[SCHUYLER] Bastards.
#warwick.story#chapter three#sim: schulyer#sim: jennifer ware#ts4 story#ts4 storytelling#ts4 legacy#ts4 royal legacy#ts4 edit#ts4 screenshots#ts4 royalty#ts4 monarchy#ch: alex#ch: schuyler#✨
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Gothic Fiction: a 2020 reading list
Did you adore Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia? Check out these titles with similar dark themes..
Flyaway by Kathleen Jennings
In a small Western Queensland town, a reserved young woman receives a note from one of her vanished brothers—a note that makes question her memories of their disappearance and her father’s departure.
A beguiling story that proves that gothic delights and uncanny family horror can live—and even thrive—under a burning sun, Flyaway introduces readers to Bettina Scott, whose search for the truth throws her into tales of eerie dogs, vanished schools, cursed monsters, and enchanted bottles.
In these pages Jennings assures you that gothic delights, uncanny family horror, and strange, unsettling prose can live—and even thrive—under a burning sun.
Holly Black describes as “half mystery, half fairy tale, all exquisitely rendered and full of teeth.” Flyaway enchants you with the sly, beautiful darkness of Karen Russell and a world utterly its own.
The Safe Place by Anna Downes
Emily is a mess.
Emily Proudman just lost her acting agent, her job, and her apartment in one miserable day.
Emily is desperate.
Scott Denny, a successful and charismatic CEO, has a problem that neither his business acumen nor vast wealth can fix. Until he meets Emily.
Emily is perfect.
Scott offers Emily a summer job as a housekeeper on his remote, beautiful French estate. Enchanted by his lovely wife Nina, and his eccentric young daughter, Aurelia, Emily falls headlong into this oasis of wine-soaked days by the pool. But soon Emily realizes that Scott and Nina are hiding dangerous secrets, and if she doesn't play along, the consequences could be deadly.
Superbly tense and oozing with atmosphere, Anna Downs's debut is the perfect summer suspense, with the modern gothic feel of Ruth Ware and the morally complex family dynamics of Lisa Jewell.
Welcome to paradise...will you ever be able to leave?
The House of Whispers by Laura Purcell
Consumption has ravaged Louise Pinecroft's family, leaving her and her father alone and heartbroken. But Dr Pinecroft has plans for a revolutionary experiment: convinced that sea air will prove to be the cure his wife and children needed, he arranges to house a group of prisoners suffering from the same disease in the cliffs beneath his new Cornish home. While he devotes himself to his controversial medical trials, Louise finds herself increasingly discomfited by the strange tales her new maid tells of the fairies that hunt the land, searching for those they can steal away to their realm.
Forty years later, Hester Why arrives at Morvoren House to take up a position as nurse to the now partially paralysed and almost entirely mute Miss Pinecroft. Hester has fled to Cornwall to try and escape her past, but surrounded by superstitious staff enacting bizarre rituals, she soon discovers that her new home may be just as dangerous as her last.
The Woman in the Mirror by Rebecca James
For more than two centuries, Winterbourne Hall has stood atop a bluff overseeing the English countryside of Cornwall and the sea beyond.
In 1947, Londoner Alice Miller accepts a post as governess at Winterbourne, looking after Captain Jonathan de Grey’s twin children. Falling under the de Greys’ spell, Alice believes the family will heal her own past sorrows. But then the twins’ adoration becomes deceitful and taunting. Their father, ever distant, turns spiteful and cruel. The manor itself seems to lash out. Alice finds her surroundings subtly altered, her air slightly chilled. Something malicious resents her presence, something clouding her senses and threatening her very sanity.
In present day New York, art gallery curator Rachel Wright has learned she is a descendant of the de Greys and heir to Winterbourne. Adopted as an infant, she never knew her birth parents or her lineage. At long last, Rachel will find answers to questions about her identity that have haunted her entire life. But what she finds in Cornwall is a devastating tragic legacy that has afflicted generations of de Greys. A legacy borne from greed and deceit, twisted by madness, and suffused with unrequited love and unequivocal rage.
You Let Me In by Camilla Bruce
Cassandra Tipp is dead...or is she?
After all, the notorious recluse and eccentric bestselling novelist has always been prone to flights of fancy--everyone in town remembers the shocking events leading up to Cassie's infamous trial (she may have been acquitted, but the insanity defense only stretches so far).
Cassandra Tipp has left behind no body--just her massive fortune, and one final manuscript.
Then again, there are enough bodies in her past--her husband Tommy Tipp, whose mysterious disembowelment has never been solved, and a few years later, the shocking murder-suicide of her father and brother.
Cassandra Tipp will tell you a story--but it will come with a terrible price. What really happened, out there in the woods--and who has Cassie been protecting all along? Read on, if you dare...
In Her Shadow by Kristin Miller
Once his secretary, Colleen is now pregnant with Michael's baby. When he brings her to his opulent estate, Ravenwood, she is abruptly thrust into a life of luxury she's never known. But Colleen finds the immense house suffused with the memory of Michael's beautiful wife, Joanna, who left months ago and who haunts her imagination. It quickly becomes apparent that there is little room for a new mistress of this house: The staff greets her with hostility, and there are entire wings and corridors from which she is prohibited to enter.
Then bones are unearthed in the grove across the street.
When Michael falls under the suspicion of the detectives investigating the case, the soon-to-be mother of his child finds herself hurled deeper into her boyfriend's dark past--a past that threatens to upend all her dreams. But the terrifying secrets lurking in the shadows of Ravenwood pale in comparison to the drastic measures Colleen will take to stake a claim to her new life.
Inspired by Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, In Her Shadow is the chilling story of one woman's desperate desire to be loved and the ghosts that get in her way--but only if she lets them.
Synopses pulled from goodreads.com
#fiction#gothic#gothic fiction#Reading Recs#reading recommendations#Book Recommendations#book recs#to be read#currently reading#recommended reading#booklr#booklist#library#public library#tbr#to read
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These feelings I got/Lucas’ season
previous part / all parts together on ao3
Enjoy it ppl <3.
Friday 22:47
Lucas looked at the sketch on his graphic tablet. A few months ago, he started to be interested in interior design and architecture after a random youtube documentation about Alex Vervoordt had popped up in his recommendations and since then he knew exactly what he wanted to do in his future and a ton of sketches was piling up in his room and the storage of his tablet was filling up faster than he wanted it to. Todays sketch was basically the interior of the little grocery store he had visited on Tuesday and Lucas had gotten completely lost in it. With the soft beats from one of his favourite albums playing in the back, he had lost the feeling of time.
The screen of his phone lit up and he could see a message from Kes and little blue instagram icon. Confused, he raised one eyebrow and unlocked his phone. Why would someone write him on instagram on a Friday night?
Sterkerdanijzer has sent sent you a message. The notification was already three hours old and Lucas was surprised by himself. Did time really pass by that fast? He usually didn’t get that lost in something. With curiosity, he opened Robbes message.
Hey, so I talked to my friends and we are meeting up on Monday to just chill and skate and they would be okay if you want join us.
Lucas face turned into a smile and his fingers were flying over the keys of his phone.
That sounds pretty chill, where are you guys meeting up?
Since he had finished his sketch, he started clicking through the insta stories of his friend. Kes and Jayden both had posted video from party and Lucas. couldn’t help but feel left out. He recognised the flat share in the background and all of his dutch friends seemed to be at the party. The story Kes uploaded showed him and Jayden sitting the kitchen counter, sharing a joint with a girl with short brown curls. Jaydens story showed Liv singing. Lucas tapped on the message had sent him and a shaky image of Jayden kissing the girl with brown curls and a u are missing popped up on the screen.
Lucas swallowed down the bitter feeling that was creeping up his throat. His friends seemed like they were having fun without him, it didn’t even seem like they were really missing him. Inside of Lucas, something was telling him that it just seemed like that and that Kes text about missing him was true, but Lucas just felt so left out and lonely right now, seeing his friends continue living and having fun while he was laying on his bed, drawing. On a Friday evening. What was he doing? What were his friends doing? Was he so unimportant that they would just continue on partying without him?
He turned onto his stomach, trying to get those thoughts out of his head. He knew that there was no reason thinking like this. It was okay to be alone, even if all his friends were getting wasted and stoned right now. And it was okay feeling awkward seeing his friends without him. But why was it so hard accepting this then?
He went back on his instagram, knowing he would regret it, but he was curious and wanted check out what the Belgians were doing. He saw that Robbe had posted a new story, which he opened immediately. Robbe seemed to be at a party too, Lucas guessed it was the farewell party for that Jana-girl they were talking about it on Monday. Lucas could see Noor in the short video, she seemed extremely happy dancing with Britt and holding a bottle of white wine in her left hand. Britts eyes ware fixed on a peroxide blonde boy that was talking with Robbe behind the phone, which Lucas. recognised as Sander, the boy that almost had hit him with the skateboard on Sunday. Behind these three teenagers, Lucas could see him. Again, as the image of him was following him, not letting him not think about him or the way they looked at each other yesterday. Lucas stared at his phone and what he saw made his stomach turn, like someone has pressed all hope out of it.
Jens and the girl from yesterday morning were sitting next to each other, she was leaning over his shoulder, almost sitting on his lap and was doing something on the boys phone. Their faces were close, she was saying. something to him and it seemed like their lips were about to touch.
Lucas wouldn’t even question it, the two were dating. What had he. expected. anyways? That the first guy that was his type would be gay and fall for. him immediately?He knew that that was not the way things worked.
He turned off the screen of his phone, and with a dull sound, it dropped down on the floor. Frustrated, not knowing what was going on in his mind, he buried his head in the white pillow he was laying on, trying to think of something different than the boy and his friends in the Netherlands.
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Summary: “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”
((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))
Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula
Rating: T
Read on FFN and AO3
A/N: Sorry for the delay! Thank you all so much for the feedback! I hope you enjoy! -Jen
Chapter Five
"You're dead."
Ten year old Agatha Van Helsing yelped in surprise as she was swiftly knocked off her feet, her back hitting the ground hard as her grandfather loomed over her. Abraham's weathered face showed no sympathy as he held a stick right underneath the girl's chin. Out of the corner of her eye, Agatha saw her own weapon lying far from her reach.
"Stand up," the old man grumbled. "You let your guard down again. In a matter of seconds, you could've been taken advantage of and drained of your life blood." He motioned towards her stick. "Again."
"We've been doing this for hours," the child complained. By now, bruises had already begun to form on the places that had been battered the most. She hated practicing combat, especially when it was with someone as highly skilled as her grandfather. "Can't we take a break?"
"There are no breaks when you're being hunted," Abraham replied firmly. "Now quit your protesting and come at me. We are going to keep doing this until you get it right." He ignored the girl's scowl and prepared his stance. "Again."
Even though she had yet to come across a mirror in Dracula's castle, Agatha felt as if her appearance was already improving by the day. No longer was her skin a deathly pallor and blotched with a red rash, but her fatigue had lessened too. By no means was she cured, far from it, but at least she was one step in the right direction. Focus on the positives. The nun had to constantly remind herself of that.
A loud knock sounded against her bedroom door causing Agatha to jump a little in surprise. Her eyes fell to the door knob, anticipating for it to twist and push open. She didn't put it past Dracula to waltz inside without permission. He'd done it several times before. However, after a few moments had passed without the vampire gracing her with his unwelcome presence, she relaxed.
"Will you be joining me downstairs to eat, or shall I leave it by the door as usual?"
Accompanying him for dinner, as if he actually ate alongside her. She inhaled deeply, flattening out the creases in the dress he'd gifted her. It was rather lovely, but it did agitate her knowing he probably realized her fondness of it. Regardless, she hadn't much else to wear-thanks to him, so she had to make do.
"You truly make being a good host such a daunting task," the vampire continued when she refrained from responding. "I've opened by home to you, healed you, and yet, you still don't trust that my intentions aren't sinister." He paused, quickly adding. "At least, not to what you expect."
"Exactly where does one find trust with someone who has slaughtered countless innocent lives," Agatha retorted. "I don't expect you to see my reasoning behind my hesitation as you kill without a second thought."
"We do what we must to survive," Dracula stated. "Monster or not, human or creature, it's in our genetics to thrive by whatever means necessary. If I made you a vampire right now, I can assure you you'd give into your cravings within a second. Whether you feel guilty or not afterwards is no concern, but you would consume blood."
"I'd rather die," she frowned deeply.
"As you've made very, very clear," the vampire exhaled. "Anyway, if desired to kill you, you'd already be dead. So rather than acting like a broody hen sitting on a clutch of eggs, perhaps it would do you good to come join me by the fire. Being confined in a room for so long isn't good for one's sanity."
His mere existence was pushing her to the brink of insanity. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Agatha's eyes fixed on the door. Something told her that he wasn't about to give in and leave her to her own devices. At some point, she'd have to really face him. Exhaling heavily, she stood up. Positive thoughts. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. A learning experience. Information. Clearing her throat, she forced a stoic expression.
"Fine," she exclaimed. "I suppose I'll join you."
"Ouch!"
A small drop of blood trickled from the knick on Agatha's thumb where she cut herself. She set the knife down, and examined the piece of wood she'd been whittling into a stake. Abraham strode forward and grabbed her hand, his brows knitting as his ever present frown deepened.
"You need to be more careful," he instructed. "A vampire would be able to smell this a mile away and you'd be killed before you even knew what hit you."
"It was an accident," Agatha insisted.
"Doesn't matter," the old man frowned. "You can't afford to make a mistake. Always be vigilant. Vampires are monsters, Agatha. They don't feel. They don't care. All you are is a meal to them. You must remember that!" He snatched her stake, his fingers trailing down the pointed wood. "Keep going," he muttered, handing it back to the girl. "You're looking if this would go through a human's chest."
"How did you learn to cook anyway?"
Agatha's eyes followed Dracula as he set a dish in front of her. At first glance, it appeared to be some sort of fowl, perhaps quail, along with root vegetables. She'd be lying if she didn't admit it smelled incredible. It wasn't until the vampire placed a crystal glass filled with a red liquid that the nun visibly stiffened.
"It's just red wine," Dracula chuckled, snorting softly. "Honestly, Agatha, I may be a 'brute' as you'd put it, but I'm not twisted enough to give you blood." There was a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "Especially when it's a requirement in my diet."
"You didn't answer my question," Agatha said, lifting up the cup to swirl the liquid around. "Where did you learn to cook? And why?"
"I picked up many skill sets throughout the centuries," he admitted. "When you have a lot of time on your hands, why not take the opportunity. Besides," he smirked. "It comes in handy when I have guests over." He gave a nod towards her dish. "Go on, give it a taste."
Eyeing him warily, Agatha lifted up her fork and picked up some of the meat. Hesitantly, she placed it into her mouth. Throughout her decades of life, she hadn't ever tasted anything so delectable. She tried to ignore Dracula's wide grin as he watched her eat. He was a good cook, she'd give him that.
"Well?"
"I'm not dead yet, so I suppose you didn't poison me," she said, setting her utensil down. "Impressive for someone who only consumes blood."
"I do try my best," he smirked. "And if we are offering compliments, might I add that you are looking much more lively now. The fire really brings out the color in your cheeks."
Agatha almost choked on the wine she'd taken a sip of. Heat rose to her face as the vampire eyed her smugly from across the table knowing what he'd done. Pleasant conversations and Dracula didn't go hand in hand. Especially when he was attempting to flirt for her own embarrassment.
"You really lack the ability for romanticism despite your centuries of life," she countered, an argument not helping her cause. She should've just dropped it. Left his snide remark where it was. "You have as much charm as a decaying crow."
"Ah, your insults are enthralling," Dracula mused, clearly entertained by her disdain. "Go on, do continue."
She should've stayed in her room. Ignored him. Pretended he wasn't there. Hell, she should've died back in that rundown clinic. But here she was, sitting before the buffoon of a man-if one would even give him the dignity of calling him that. Anger began to bubble within her chest, her witty demeanor fighting the urge to leap over the table with the strength she clearly didn't have and stake him in the chest with her butter knife.
"You're a pig," Agatha growled. "A barbarian."
"Come on, Agatha, you and I both know you can be far more creative than that," he teased, making his way over to her side. "I've witnessed it before. Give me your best shot. That is," he paused. "If you still have it in you."
What happened next was a blurred memory, as if Agatha had blocked out the event that led up to it. The next thing she realized was that she was standing, her mouth against Dracula's as he pushed her back against the table. The force of it hurt and the nun knew she'd have a bruise later. But that didn't matter now.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her up, the dining ware knocked to the floor. Shattered. Teeth grazing her bottom lip. Fingernails digging into his impenetrable skin. She couldn't breathe. She didn't want to. The fabric of her dress tore as he ripped it off like one does the wrapping of a present.
"Don't trust a vampire." Abraham's words echoed in her mind as she lay splayed across the table like some elegant feast, Dracula looming over her with dark, lustful eyes. "Never fall into their trap."
His words faded as the vampire pressed himself close, his forehead against Agatha's. Her body ached for him. Burned. And she was a victim to its demands. Perhaps later she'd regret this. But later wasn't now. She allowed her eyes to close, bare skin to bare skin, as she drowned in the passion that was desire.
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MASCOT WITH MENACING EYES Episode 2 of CRWC GOAT KING WRITERS CLUB,
GOAT KING WRITERS CLUB, The loosest storytelling Podcast in all the land, were we don’t let Grammar get in the way of a good yarn.
MENACING EYES by SEAN CONWAY
Freshly squeezed orange juice, beans, mushrooms, eggs and a stack of bacon drizzled in maple syrup. This was a regular breakfast for the farmer which is why he is bulging out of his overalls.Despite his size, the farmer is a unassuming man, living alone miles away in the back woods, only making the trip to town to sell his wares.
By the way he dressed you would think he was Amish, he probably could be Amish if it wasn’t for his 1955 Ford Pick Up truck and his love of beer. He wasn’t one for fancy beer, he only had one preference that is must be cold, refreshing, and American made. The Farmer loved nothing more than a few Coors Lite after a hards day work. The farmer does most of his drinking on a Sunday, he
does extra work on Saturday so he can sit back and enjoy that afternoons football game reminiscing about his days playing all those years ago.
Devouring the last of his breakfast feast that could easily feed a family of four, he enjoyed his meal oblivious to the fact that menacing eyes were staring at him with murderous intent only a few short steps away. The farmer slurped down the last of his orange juice and set out for a hards day work in the fields, unaware that today will be his last day working in those fields if the onlooker with those
menacing eyes has his way.
Ploughing through the fields, the first of many chores for the day, singing along with gusto to the smooth sounds of Billy Joe Shaver, George Jones and Johnny Cash. The hours flew past with heavenly harmonics echoing through the isolated fields.
It was time for the Farmer to park up his plough and enjoy a well-deserved lunch. Nothing exciting, just a white bread sandwich with way too much bacon and a drizzle of homemade barbecue sauce made from a recipe passed down from his grandmother. Sitting on his plough, tapping his feet to the
beat of Waylon Jennings, and enjoying his heart attack in a sandwich lunch, blissfully unaware of the danger that lay ahead as the beholder of those menacing eyes spied on the unassuming Farmer from a distance.
The Farmer finished his lunch and went about finishing the remaining chores for the day. He feed the chickens, he feed the cows, he feed the sheep and even had time to change the shoes on his beloved horse Bo named after his favourite Auburn Football player Bo Jackson. Bo wasn’t a racehorse, but the Farmer would watch Bo in the field and daydream of him raising the Kentucky
Derby Trophy alongside the only creature he considered a friend.
One last job before The Farmer could call it a day, and that was to feed the pigs their gruel. He wouldn’t feed them any ole gruel, because these weren’t any ole pigs. These were Blue-Ribbon Award-winning pigs. The Farmer would spend hours cooking and refining his gruel recipe until he had the perfect concoction.
The Farmer walked over to the barn to retrieve his gold star gruel for his gold star pigs, but on his short journey, The Farmer stopped, he had a peculiar feeling he was being watched, a strange sense for the Farmer who lived alone on an isolated farm miles from town. The Farmer looked around and
saw nothing out of the ordinary, he paused for a moment before he chuckled to himself. Paranoid thoughts were a very rare occurrence for the level headed farmer, but the Farmer wasn’t being paranoid, we was indeed being watched by menacing eyes that had murderous intent that had plans to make this the last day he ever worked on that farm.
Collecting the gruel from the barn and still humoured by his bout of paranoia, the Farmer pulled up to the pig sty in his 1955 Ford Pick Up truck, blaring his music as loud as it would go, the Farmer despite being level headed, had a collection of strange theories, he believed playing loud music for
the pigs comforted then and made the meat taste better. A strange theory indeed, but whose to argue with his logic considering how many Blue Ribbons he had won.
As the day grew longer The Farmer had to struggle with the weight of his homemade gruel out of the pickup truck before he entered the pig sty. Despite his tiring body The Farmer still had a peep in his step as he enjoyed the music along with the pigs. He poured the gruel he took such pride into the troff, the sound of the Farmers home cooking hitting the metal troff sent the hungry pigs into a frenzy, bashing and crashing past the Farmer.
The Farmer’s large body was no match for the stampede of giant award winning pigs as the sound of the bones in his legs crushing drowned out the sound of the music blaring from his pickup truck, the pigs giant mass has crushed his legs and The Farmer collapsed under his own weight in agony, his
screams echoing through the freshly ploughed fields of his isolated farm.
The pain was unbearable but he managed to crawl through the wet mud that was a mix of dirt and pig shit, and lean his broken body against the chicken wire fence so he could see the extent of the damage to his legs. The Farmer tried rolling up his pant legs, but his legs were so severely broken
that the bones had ripped through material of his blood-soaked overalls. The sense that he was being watched overcome the Farmer once again, he was now face to face with those Menacing eyes
that had murderous intent that had been watching The Farmer since breakfast, they’re eyes all too familiar to The Farmer, they were the eyes of Hog Brady, a runt of a pig the Farmer had raised since
he was piglet, naming him Hog Brady for his hatred of New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady.
The Farmer had grown to love this runt of a pig over the years even though he wasn’t a Blue Ribbon pig. Hog Brady though, had no love for the Farmer, watching him for years and years routinely butcher his family and friends and devour their corpses, and for what? A few blue ribbons from the
county fair. This did not sit well with Hog Brady at all, he has waited years for the opportunity to exact his revenge on the butcherous Farmer, he was going to enjoy feasting on the Farmer, starting with mutilated legs.
The Farmer punched and screamed at Hog Brady, has hard as he could but he was no match for his vengeful foe, the punches and the screaming only forced Hog Brady to consume The Farmer faster.
This once runt piglet was now devouring The Farmer as quickly as he could. The other pigs on the other hand, have devoured their gruel, and with their appetites not yet met, the Farmer looked like a plentiful dessert.
The pigs made easy work of the Farmer as they feasted on his flesh as they enjoyed soothing melodies of Tammy Wynette blaring from the pickup truck. It only took a few short minutes for The Farmer to be no more.
Spending hours and hours perfecting a recipe for his Blue Ribbon winning Pigs, it would The Farmer himself who would become a 5 Star meal for his 5 Star pigs.
MASCOT by NATHAN HULL
I had been summoned to the general managers office. A rare thing for a lowly team mascot, yet here I was sitting outside his large office trying to figure out whether this was a positive or potentially terrible thing for my career. Thinking back on the last week what I it was, good or bad that I could have done to land myself waiting like a nervous school child outside the Principles doors.
“You can go through now” The uninterested receptionist sighed fiddling with her phone not even taking the time to look up at me. “yeah thanks’ I replied before taking a deep breath and walking in to meet my fate.
Upon entering the room I shuffled nervously, waiting to be acknowledged before Mr Grandioso finally told me to sit “ Well well if it isn’t everyone’s favourite mascot” he said dismissively, lighting a large cigar and pouring himself a brandy “Make mine a double” I said with a laugh trying to break the tension in the room. Mr Grandioso just stared unimpressed at me before continuing. “As you know we are having a terrible season, we are 1 and 11 and making the finals is now almost impossible, heads must roll’
I wasn’t entirely sure what this had to do with me as a mascot, I mean all I did was run around in a large Goat costume trying to draw some attention away from the teams terrible performance each week, so I put my fist to my chin and nodded importantly “yes yes I agree” I said hoping that maybe I was about to be given a raise from Mascot to head coach. ‘What can I do to help Mr Grandioso” I said reaching into my pocket for a pen and note pad, trying to look as prepared and confident as I now I assumed the other coaching candidates would look.
“Put that pen away Manfred, Im firing you” Mr grandioso sighed. ‘What me? firing me? Im the only person who actually does what there paid to do on game day” I yelled “this clubs a fucking joke a fucking shithole joke!’ I screamed making my situation much worse than it already was.
I lept out of my chair and was tackled to the ground by two of Mr Grandioso’s assistants “ listen you jabbering little cock sucker” he hissed “ you think I don’t know how bad this team performs? The amount of money I have invested into the most useless team in the history of this club?” he continued “If it where up to me id fire the lot of them but after the pre-season promises made the outrages spending spree the internal cover ups I need to at least galvanise the fans, so I’m placing the blame squarely on you”
My head was spinning a moment ago I thought I was going to make the dream leap from Mascot to coach a feet only ever achieved once by Lucky the Dolphin in 1937, now however I realised I had lost everything, I was a patsy a fall guy a nobody.
I slunk my way out of the stadium and over to the closest bar where I found Terry the Turtle drinking alone .Usually during the season id have no time to chat with our cross town rivals mascot but seeing as I was just fired I sat at his table and over a few drinks explained my situation.
During the course of the afternoon and a long chat it came to light that many mascots where feeling displaced and abused, and one by one we called the others eventually coming up with a plan to not only claim justice but also make us rich. The plan was simple I would take $2000 from each mascot and place a seemingly impossible bet that my ex team would go on to win every remaining game including the championship for the year it was a $40000 bet put on at 1000 to 1 odds a $40,000,000 pay day.
And so for the remainder of the season the plan was executed. Mascots would tamper with play books and equipment disrupt practices, some even going as far as secretly injuring or poisoning star players. Doing whatever it took to ensure our bet payed off. And so it did we succeeded in fucking with the entire league and claiming a nice $2,000,000 each. Not bad for a bunch of no body mascots, once down trodden and laughed at we now where kings and I was the King Goat.
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