#A SIMply Historical House Party

[gnomeyflamingo]

Acco and Kiry: *smooching noises*

Atreo: “AH! W-WHAT?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”

Atreo: “YOU’RE KISSING?! HOW COULD YOU?! MY BROTHER AND MY BEST FRIEND?!!?!”

Kiry: “Uhm… This is mortifying.”

Acco: “Omw, he really has been ignoring me for months.”

Atreo: “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. I EVEN MADE A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY AND THEN YOU GO AND BETRAY ME!”

Kiry: “Please stop screaming.”

Acco: “Er, how am I betraying you?! Also by the gnomes, I already told you about Kiry and me so many times!"

Atreo: “YOU ALWAYS STEAL WHAT’S MINE, YOU ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING!”

Kiry: “Atreo calm down, you’re not making any sense.”

Acco: “You haven't changed one bit. I thought after the whole fake nanny ordeal you realized-"

Atreo: "SHUT UP!"

Atreo: “I HATE YOU! I WISH WE COULD HAVE BATTLED TO THE DEATH INSTEAD OF AN EGG-FINDING COMPETITION!"

Kiry: "Atreo please-"

Acco: "Why are you so angry?! Kiry and I are in love, we're dating. Why can't you just be happy for us?"

Atreo: "I'll never be happy for you Acco, you're the spare, your life is a dream! You’ve stolen my best friend and now you get to date him, without having to fulfill a stupid aspiration! Why do you always get to have everything?!”

*shoves*

Kiry: “Hey stop it!"

Kiry: “That’s enough. Atreo, your behavior is unacceptable. Acco doesn’t deserve this. I-I don’t deserve this. I… I do not want to continue being the best friend of someone as selfish and cruel as you… Please leave.”

Atreo: “Fine. You can have him Acco. You won.”

Acco: *cries*

Kiry: “I’m not an object you can own-”

Atreo: “Bye.”

Atreo: *grumbles* “That travel better get here fast..”

Scientist: “Excuse me young man, I require your assistance. There is… Uhm… My handsome military husband and I lost… A horse! Our horse got loose.”

Atreo: “A horse? There are horses now? Where?”

Atreo: “Gah! What traumatizing pose set is this from-”

Scientist: "Shh shhh sleepy time."

Military guy: "...You think I'm handsome?"

Scientist: "Yes you're gorgeous- wait, I hear somebody coming, quick, let's get out of here!"

An hour later in a basement dungeon in Tartosa…

Atreo: "Ughhh my head, where am I? What uncomfortable pose am I in now?”

Scientist: "Quiet prisoner!"

Arnessa: "You're awake and alive. Good. I feared we used too much mandrake concentrate.”

Atreo: “Oh you have no idea what you’ve done. Zehra’s hidden a tracker somewhere, I think in me? She’s unhealthily obsessed with me and ridiculously strong. She’ll come to rescue me."

Arnessa: “That’s what I’m counting on, silly child!”

Arnessa: “Once she enters my lair, my vampire offspring will overwhelm her and end her reign of vampire-hunting terror! You’re the bait!”

Am I ending on a cliffhanger so I have a good incentive to continue after my summer hiatus? Yes, I am. Have a good next 2 months everyone!

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[mywritersmind]

Fewtrell reader is staying over at Maxs and hes out and Lando comes over and asks “is he home?” and she offers to let him in and wait and the tension is HIGHHH (hes her childhood crush) and you can be creative from here. 🫣

FUCK WITH MY HEAD - LN4

listen up : banter banter banter!! mentions of sex. ty for the request this like vibe is always in my mind (flirty bantery brothers best friend)

word count : 1061

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m not even dressed yet, but the consistent knowing and ringing of the doorbell is driving me mad, “Whoever you are, you better have a good reason!” I yell at the unknown person as I yank open the door, only a towel wrapped around me. “Of course it’s you.”

“Wow, not even a hello? And I thought we were friends.” Lando Norris stands in front of me, holding his chest like I've hurt his heart. His eyes check out my towel situation before asking, “Your brother home?”

I practically groan in his face, walking away from the door, “You couldn’t have texted him!? He’s gone for another hour.” I say as I slam the door of the guest bedroom closed so I can change in peace.

I hear the front door shut, “Someone’s in a good mood today.” I mock him only for myself to see as I pull on white shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

I walk back out, breathing deeply and reminding myself that he can’t get to me if I don’t let him, “You’re sort of ruining my only time alone this week.” I’m visiting my brother and as much as I love the guy, he’s fucking obnoxious to live with.

“Had to listen to P and Max go at it, huh?” He leans over the counter, taking a crisp from my bowl.

I make a disgusted face at him, “You’re disgusting and you know for a fact I would be gone if that happened.”

“Wish I was spared from their sex life.” I roll my eyes and pour myself some water, “So… How’s your trip been?”

Small talk? Seriously weird coming from Lando.

“Why are you here anyways?” I don’t answer his question, he stands and joins me at my side, “You know that phone you have? It actually can message someone so you don’t randomly show up to their house!” I smile and blink at him.

He takes another crisp, “But then I wouldn’t be getting this lovely time with you.” I shake my head as I sip my water, pretending not to notice Lando’s eyes roam my body.

It’s a weird feeling to look back at your childhood crush in general; but when your childhood crush is your best friend's brother, famous, rich, and ridiculously attractive, it’s even worse.

Lando Norris was the object of my desire at thirteen and clearly I was onto something. He's dressed in a black shirt and jeans, sporting sneakers and a singular ring on his middle finger.

Still, like every historically accurate childhood crush, Lando never showed any interest. Until we hit our 20s and Lando learned how to flirt.

I don’t see him often, we would run into each other during breaks or holidays. I watch quadrant videos while I do my makeup or races while I pick out an outfit, but Lando hasn’t been this close to me in a while.

The last time we were like this was the beginning of last year. Like I said, we see each other for some holidays. I happened to be invited to his and Max’s new year’s party.

I also happened to be Lando’s new year's kiss. Maybe a bit more, but a lady never tells.

I fake sweetness, twirling my hair, “I’m honored! Lando Norris likes,” My voice goes dry and I walk away from him, “ruining my me time!”

I hear him chuckle as I sit on the couch with my food and phone, “You get sassier everytime I see you.”

I bite into my food, “As I should.”

“And hotter.” I’m paused with my food halfway in my mouth. What the fuck.

I take a breath, not daring to look back, “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Why? I know you like it.” how is his voice attractive?

I turn around, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, leaning back against the counter. “Max.” I say simply.

“Last time I checked,” He pushes off the counter, walking to the couch and looking down at me, “Max isn’t here.”

“You’re getting far too optimistic.” I look up at him, “Fame going to your head?”

“No I think it’s just you…” His gaze stays fixed on me, “In my head, I mean.” He does this shit too often. Gets in my head while boosting his confidence. I blush and he smirks, it’s a sick cycle that I can’t help but love.

His eyes are glued to mine, I narrow them, trying to figure out his aim here.

“Get in line.” I roll my eyes and turn back to my food and open my phone. I see him bite back a smile, jumping over the couch and laying face up.

He tilts his head back at me while I text my friend, “So… Uni. How many boyfriends have you got?”

I don’t look at him, “I’m currently dating my textbooks. Who has the time?”

“Alright, how many fuck buddies you got?” I eye him, all cute and upside down.

I put my phone down, “You really wanna know the truth?”

“Are my feelings gonna get hurt?”

I look away and he sits up, looking at me in that way I hate so much. It’s not even been twenty minutes and he’s already fucking with my head.

He scoots closer to me and I push my hand over his face to get him away, “You’re ridiculous. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He doesn’t look away, he never seems to have an issue with eye contact when it comes to me, “What am I doing?” His tone is egging me on, “Go on. Tell me.”

I shake my head, “You’ve got that look in your eye… Like how you looked at me during new years.” The corner of his mouth lifts at the memory.

“Is that a bad thing?”

I sigh, what am I supposed to do? We never talked about it. Max could never know. And as attracted to him as I am, It will never happen again.

I tilt my head a bit, “What are you gonna Lando? Fuck me on my brothers couch?” I catch the slight blush on his cheeks, how his eyes flicker down.

Then he looks back up at me, but not meeting my eyes, his smile grows, “Seems like a pretty appealing offer right now.”

I groan and stand up, “I’m resuming my me time, try not to break anything.”

“You’re not slick, darling! Think of me when you touch yourself.” He blows me a kiss, I reply with my middle finger.

[uglypastels]

Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works. 

The Ridlington Park Collection | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases. 

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally. 

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room. 

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

  ‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’ 

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother. 

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas. 

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject. 

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’ 

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte. 

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises. 

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’ 

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’ 

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention. 

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly. 

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked. 

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away. 

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received. 

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework. 

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’ 

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done. 

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you. 

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming. 

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense. 

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg. 

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’  ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip. 

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited. 

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind. 

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair. 

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’ 

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever. 

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head. 

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’ 

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day. 

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head. 

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap. 

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea. 

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’ 

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’ 

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed. 

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’ 

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’ 

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick. 

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up. 

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye. 

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’ 

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks. 

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself. 

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there. 

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger. 

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ 

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An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that. 

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do. 

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences. 

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now? 

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores. 

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content. 

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’ 

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’ 

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine. 

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ 

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed. 

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by. 

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter. 

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better. 

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice. 

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did. 

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet. 

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought  Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions. 

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind. 

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for. 

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man. 

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’ 

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of. 

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh. 

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation. 

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance. 

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family. 

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly. 

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’ 

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone. 

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met. 

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’ 

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn. 

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’ 

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’ 

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so. 

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely. 

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for. 

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves. 

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here. 

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family. 

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit. 

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action. 

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek. 

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’ 

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping. 

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think. 

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do. 

You screamed bloody murder. 

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’  you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you. 

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply. 

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired. 

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’ 

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire. 

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled. 

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname. 

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead. 

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape. 

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities. 

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff. 

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it. 

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment. 

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture. 

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste. 

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide. 

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot. 

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner. 

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’ 

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’ 

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms. 

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet. 

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie. 

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’ 

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you. 

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you. 

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off. 

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you. 

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’ 

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied. 

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you. 

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire. 

‘Yes, mother.’ 

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words. 

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss. 

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time. 

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.” 

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted. 

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours. 

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio. 

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone. 

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did. 

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio. 

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens. 

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave. 

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sanctuary

words: 900

warnings: scary movie, small mention of sex (actually to say nothing sexual lol), first kiss <3, soft!rafe

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you curse quietly, trying to find some way to get out of the situation. “how about the hunger games?” you interject into the conversation, kelces new girlfriend tessa shaking her head no.

“if we watch one, then we'd have to watch catching fire, then…” she trails off. “i think we all agree on hereditary.”

you simply swallow hard. you don't want to admit how much you truly hate horror movies, especially when the room is filled with your friends and their boyfriends.

you take a seat on the couch, schooching yourself as far away as possible. maybe you'll fake being asleep to get out of having to watch the scenes unfold.

you pretend to be very interested in the thread on your pants as the opening credits begin, blinking up when the spot on the cushion next to you is taken.

rafe gives you a soft smile. out of everyone in the room, he's the one you know the least, despite the movie night taking place in tanneyhill. he's friends with all your friends, but you've never made a point to hang out with him, mostly due to the crush practically every girl has on him, his charm and good looks not making you immune either.

“hey.” you say softly, smiling at him, noting that there's various other seats open, but rafe chose next to you.

“are you sleeping over?” rafe asks. a majority of the group planned to disperse among the many tanneyhill bedrooms, as the following day rafe is throwing a party, with the rest of his family being out of town, theres no reason not to take up residence inside on of the mansions many rooms.

“um, if there's an open bed.” you shrug. you drove yourself so you had the choice to go home at any moment, just in case you needed to back out.

“ill make sure there is one for you.” rafe whispers as the movie starts. you nod and give him an appreciative smile as his eyes turn towards the screen.

the opening of the movie is slow, building up to the scarier parts. you pull your knees in to your chest, trying to watch out of only one eye as the scenes get creepier and creepier.

you jump at the first scare, along with some other people but your reaction gets noticed by rafe, who places a hand on your shoulder. it almost makes you jump as much as the movie does.

“you okay?” he asks, moving closer to you.

“not a big scary movie fan.” you admit, looking rafe in the eye to avoid looking at the screen.

“oh.” rafe smiles slightly, hand going from your shoulder to wrap around you, pulling you into him in an unexpected move.

“you're not gonna make fun of me?” you question, the words slipping from your tongue before you can think out of sheer surprise.

“of course not.” rafe says, hand squeezing gently, comfortingly. “just… hide against me for the scary scenes.”

you manage to make it through the movie ducking your head against rafe, pressing your squeezed shut eyes into his chest, eventually relaxing into his grip, cuddled together on the couch as the movie finishes. his presence next to you keeps you from freaking out at the scary scenes, his strong arms never wavering from their place wrapped around you, even when popcorn is brought out and drinks are passed around. 

“thank god.” you mumble when the lights get switched back on. rafe chuckles lightly, pulling you closer once more before letting you sit up with a stretch.

the couples rush quickly to their rooms, leaving a few stragglers to pick off the remaining bedrooms.

“i might just go home, rafe…” you look around tanneyhill, it's mostly dark, a majority of the lights shut off, giving the historic house a scary feel.

“ill drive you home if you want to, but if you don't want to sleep alone, my bed is open.” he says it so casually you're worried you misheard him.

“huh?” 

“nothing sexual.” he shakes his head. “just sharing a bed. ill even keep a nightlight on for you.”

“really?” you giggle. you only want to go home so you don't have to be in total darkness.

“yeah.” rafe places a hand on your upper back, guiding you towards his room. there's already a light on, but he clicks an extra lamp on, illuminating the room even further.

“thanks.” you mumble. “for during the movie and for this.”

“it's my pleasure.” rafe smiles, climbing into bed, everyone having changed into their pajamas before the movie. he flips the covers back, gesturing for you to slide under them.

you keep yourself towards the edge of the bed, not wanting to invade rafes space when he's already done so much for you.

“oh come on, get over here.” rafe opens his arms up, and you smile, shuffling over to place your head on his chest, legs tangling together. the steady beat of his heart relaxes your own as you place a hand on his torso, holding back your gasp when you realize how prominently you can feel his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

rafe kisses the top of your head. it's sweet, so different from what you're used from him. you pick your head up to look into his blue eyes.

“thank you.”

rafe leans down, pressing your lips together in a soft kiss. “i mean what i said.” rafe gives them another peck. “nothing sexual tonight. but if after the party when you've had some time to think about it…”

you nod enthusiastically, a smile on both of your faces. “im sure ill find myself in your bed tomorrow night as well.”

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[cyberclouddream]

What Recharges or Motivates Us

What to do if you feel unmotivated or drained. Based primarily on Sun placements, but can also apply to Venus, Mars, or Jupiter if strong, along with Chart Ruler. Also look for the houses where you have Aries [ inspiration ], Taurus [ comfort ], Scorpio [ rebirth ], and Sagittarius [ adventure ].

Through the Signs

Aries

- engage in a competitive activity, like sports or games that gets your blood pumping

- tackle a quick, challenging task, like a workout, difficult puzzle, hiking, cycling, or running

- spend more time in the sun and other natural light, like candles or bonfires

- leading others, like leading a group project or initiative

- take a spontaneous trip or adventure, exploring nearby towns or new places

- do a hands-on activity, like a DIY or home improvement project

- take a class or workshop you always wanted to try, like pottery, cooking, or dancing

- engaging in activities that remind you of your childhood

More Ideas: try extreme sports like rock climbing or bungee jumping; pack a bag and take a road trip with a specific destination; set up a friendly competition like a race or game; create a playlist that represents your personal anthem; join a public speaking/Toastmakers club or open-mic events; try a martial arts class, parkour, or fire dancing

Taurus

- spend time outdoors in nature, through hiking, gardening, or simply relaxing

- indulge in sensory experiences, through cooking your favorite meal, taking a bath, or lighting aromatic candles

- treat yourself to a self-care day, like a massage, facial, or luxurious bath to reconnect with the body

- rearranging or redecorating your safe space, like adding plants or artwork

- listen to music, like uplifting or calming tunes that boost your mood or energy

- engage in creative hobbies, like painting, pottery, or crafting

- cooking or baking, since the process of preparing food can be therapeutic or satisfying to them

- gentle forms of physical movement, like yoga, dancing, or tai chi

- mindfulness practices, like meditation or deep breathing

- spending quality time with loved ones, like close friends, family, or animal companions

More Ideas: visit a local farmer’s market, experiment with cooking a new cuisine; take a worship in pottery or candle-making; host a wine and cheese testing; visit local artisan shops or craft markets; explore local flora or take up a nature identification project; host a themed dinner party; use more vibrant colors, fragrant herbs, or unique textures when cooking

Gemini

- organize a gathering with friends or participate in a social event

- explore new ideas, through trying a new book, podcast, or documentary

- plan a short trip or spontaneous outing to a new location

- participate in group activities, like joining a club, workshop, or class, like a writing group, art class, or dance lesson

- trying different hobbies, like crafting or playing a musical instrument

- take a short social media break, to calm mental chatter and focus on more fulfilling tasks

- host a themed movie or game night, like inviting friends over for a movie marathon or game night to combine entertainment with socializing

- try guided meditations

More Ideas: take a quick-paced online course on a random subject that interests them; join an improv class; go on a themed trip, like visiting a historical landmark or art installations; write a short story or poem based on a random word generator; host an online discussion group on an eclectic topic; try VR experiences that offer adventure or learning opportunities; host a trivia night; create a collaborative story where others contribute paragraphs; participate in a flash mob; join a local debate club

Cancer

- spend time at home or in a cozy and comforting environment, and even declutter or redecorate

- engage in nurturing activities, like cooking a favorite meal or baking something comforting

- spend quality time with family or close friends

- practice self-care routines, like taking a long bath, practicing skincare, or enjoying a good book

- artistic outlets, like painting, crafting, or writing

- nature walks, especially near water, like lakes, rivers, or the ocean

- journal, to write down thoughts or feelings to help bring clarity to process emotions

- volunteer or help others, since acts of kindness are fulfilling

More Ideas: curate a playlist that represents current feelings and listen to it while journaling; setup a home sanctuary with blankets, pillows, or favorite items; try art therapy as a form of emotional expression; create a scrapbook or photo album full of cherished memories; cook a dish from childhood; host a memory sharing night with friends or family; create a comfort box with things like favorite books, scented candles, photos, or treats; plant a healing garden

Leo

- expressing through art, like painting, dancing, or acting

- host a social gathering, like organizing a party or get-together with friends, since they like being the center of attention and sharing their energy

- engage in a physical activity, like a fun workout, dance class, or group fitness session

- pamper yourself, like having a spa day, try a new hairstyle, or going shopping to make your feel great

- leading a project at work or a group setting

- surrounding themselves with positivity, like curating a playlist or watching uplifting movies

- trying a new hobby that challenges them, like photography, writing, or playing an instrument

- connecting with nature, like a botanical garden or beach

- practicing gratitude, like writing down things they appreciate

More Ideas: dress up as a favorite character or icon for the day; write a personal manifesto of their goals, dreams, and values; host a talent show with friends and family; volunteer to mentor others and share skills; have a solo dance party at home or wherever they feel free, like nature; enroll in local acting or improv class; create a personal website; plan a photoshoot; attend a live performance; establish a celebration ritual for achievements big or small

Virgo

- spend time tidying up, like cleaning and organizing their environment

- going for a nature walk or hike, to ground and reconnect with surroundings

- create a to-do list, like writing down tasks and goals to have a clear plan

- try a craft or DIY project, like gardening, artisan crafts, or home improvement

- cook a healthy and nourishing me that focuses on healthy ingredients

- taking a break from screens and social media to reduce mental chatter and focus on priorities and passions

- read for pleasure, like a book or audiobook, listening to a story that can provide an escape and stimulate the mind

- volunteer or help others, like community service or lending a hand to someone in need

- practice self-care, like a bath, yoga, or quiet evening with a favorite movie to recharge emotional and physical energy

More Ideas: create a personal wellness day with yoga, healthy cooking, and meditation; go outside and journal about the sights, sounds, and feelings they experience in nature; organize a workshop where everyone teaches each other something they’re good at; craft a detailed vision board outlining goals and aspirations; organize or join a nature clean-up event; join a book club; attend a cooking class

Libra

- cultivate aesthetic spaces, like redecorate or rearrange a living space to create a more visually pleasing environment

- spend time with friends or loved ones

- visit art galleries or museums to immerse in art or culture

- practice self-care like a spa treatment or skincare ritual

- try yoga or pilates

- listen to uplifting music, like creating a playlist of favorite songs or explore new genres

- try hands-on creative activities, like painting, crafting, or fashion design

- ensuring they have a balance of social time and solitude to recharge effectively

- seek out beauty and inspiration, like botanical gardens, floral shops, or scenic views

More Ideas: curate a playlist that evokes peace and balance while engaging in calming activities; host a themed potluck dinner where everyone brings dishes from different cultures; explore Feng Shui and rearrange living space based on the principles; color mandala designs or use adult coloring books; participate in a dance class like salsa or ballroom; join or create a group where people discuss philosophical ideas, art, and ethics; spend a week experimenting with different fashion styles

Scorpio

- engage in intense workouts, like martial arts, kickboxing, or dance

- try self-reflection through journaling or meditation

- connect with nature, especially near water

- transforming their space to reflect their current emotional state or desires

- engage in creative outlets like painting, writing poetry, or playing music

- incorporate mindfulness practices, like deep breathing or yoga to center themselves

- delve into mystical practices, line astrology, tarot, numerology, divination, or the craft

- plan a personal retreat, like a weekend getaway or a day of solitude at home

- volunteer for causes they care about, like community service or activism that aligns with values

More Ideas: try shadow work journaling about fears, desires, and emotions to explore depths of psyche; stimulate senses through aromatherapy, candle-making, or visiting a sensory deprivation tank; create a mystery box full of random things and challenge themselves to craft a story or project around items; take a weekend away to a secluded location for introspection and reconnecting with themselves; explore darker-themed artists or galleries; create a personal tarot deck; try intuitive cooking, as in without strict recipes

Sagittarius

- plan a spontaneous trip, like a weekend getaway or a trip to a nearby city or nature spot

- engage in outdoor activities, like hiking, biking, or camping

- attend workshops or classes, such as cooking, art, or philosophy

- connect with different cultures, like cultural events, festivals, or cuisine

- read inspirational books, like travel, philosophy, or personal growth

- join a social group or club that focus on their interests, such as travel clubs or book clubs

- practice gratitude to reflect on things they appreciate to reignite enthusiasm

- engage in physical activities, like yoga, dance, or team sports

- attend lectures, seminars, or discussions on topics that interest them

- take a digital detox to unplug and reconnect with themselves

More Ideas: start a travel journal documenting last adventures and future dreams; choose a random topic or skill to learn, like a new language or dance style; visit a cultural museum, theater, or festival to immerse in new perspectives and experiences; create a bucket list; create an accountability group; start a nature journal that documents observations about nature, seasons, and personal reflections during walks or hikes; join an outdoor adventure group; start a travel blog or vlog; participate in a poetry or storytelling night

Capricorn

- set new goals, like reassessing personal or professional goals and create a clear plan to achieve them

- engage in physical exercise, participate in strength training, running, or hiking

- tidy up living or workspaces, since they appreciate order

- connect with nature, like taking a walk in the park or hike in the mountains

- establish a routine that includes time for work, self-care, and leisure

- network and build connections, like attending professional network events or social gatherings, to open new doors and inspire ambition

- prioritize self-care activities, like massages, spa days, or quiet evenings at home

- learn a new skill or hobby, through cooking, a new language, or musical instrument

More Ideas: set up a structured personal challenge, like a month-long fitness routine; take an unconventional course in a field of interest outside career path; create a detailed vision board of long-term goals; create a personal development podcast about self-improvement, productivity, or career tips; delve into ancient philosophies [ like stoicism ] or classic literature that resonates with values; try minimalist living for a week

Aquarius

- try innovative projects, through art, writing, or technology

- explore new ideas, through reading books or articles on unconventional topics, science, or philosophy

- participate in social activism or community service

- connect with like-minded individuals, like joining groups or forums that align with interests

- take time alone to reflect and recharge to renew motivation

- try new experiences, like new acting, foods, or adventures, which can invigorate curiosity

- experiment with technology, like new gadgets or apps

- spend time in nature, like hiking, bike riding, or a picnic in a park

- practice mindfulness techniques or meditation to calm busy mind

- create a vision board with goals and aspirations to visual dreams

More Ideas: brainstorm creative solutions to social issues or personal projects; explore workshops on unusual topics, like improv, urban foraging, or alternative therapies; conduct a social experiment, like “random acts of kindness” challenges to explore human connection in a unique way; join hackathons or creative meetups that focus in technology or social change; use VR technology to explore new worlds or experiences

Pisces

- try artistic pursuits, like painting, drawing, writing, or playing music

- practice mindfulness meditation to center themselves

- spend time near water, whether it’s the ocean, a lake, or a river

- volunteer for a cause, like community service or supporting a cause they care about

- create a dream or aspirations journal to process emotions and thoughts

- immerse in music that resonates with their mood or inspires them

- explore spiritual practices, like yoga, tarot reading, rituals, or belief systems

- surround themselves with beauty, like creating a peaceful or aesthetically pleasing environment; add plants, soft lighting, or artwork

- spend time with loved ones, and share thoughts or feelings to provide emotional support

- take a break from routine and allow for spontaneity, whether it’s a day trip, new hobby, or an adventure

More Ideas: write a short story or poem based on their dreams or fantasies; partner with other artists or creatives to collaborate in a project to blend imagination with others; join a meditation or spiritual group to share experiences; try underwater exploration, like snorkeling or scuba diving; attend a sound bath session; volunteer at an animal shelter or sanctuary; create a collaborative playlist where friends can contribute; start a book swap; participate in a poetry slam

Through the Houses

First House

- focus in self-care and personal expression; engage in activities that boost self-esteem; exploring their identity; setting personal goals, establish limits that honor personal needs; explore personal interests and passions; find authentic ways to express themselves

Second House

- explore what they value most in life; educate and reassess financial priorities; find creative ways to utilize resources; ensure life choices align with core values; declutter material possessions; explore new income sources; cultivate gratitude for resources; work towards greater financial autonomy

Third House

- enhance communication skills like increasing active listening skills; build local connections; expand knowledge and explore new ideas; engage in stimulating conversations like knowledge exchange; embrace curiosity more; engage in puzzles, games, or brain-training exercises; blog or write to communicate thoughts, feelings, and ideas

Fourth House

- nurture family relationships; create a supportive home environment like understanding and improving family relationships; reflect on emotional foundations; connect with heritage and traditions; find comfort in solitude; design a space that promotes peace and comfort

Fifth House

- embrace creativity and self-expression; build or deepen romantic connections; explore leisure activities; try hobbies that excite them; focus on seeking joy and playfulness; explore various forms of artistic expression; reconnect with their inner child and joyful nostalgic experiences

Sixth House

- address stress and well-being; find satisfaction at work; engage in acts of service that contributes to well-being; find efficient ways to manage daily tasks; more regular exercise and nutritious meals; focus on quality good and being present while you’re eating food; create boundaries to avoid burnout; incorporate more self-care routines; gratitude journaling; integrate more therapies like acupuncture, massages, or aromatherapy

Seventh House

- foster open communication; strengthen personal relationships; navigate conflicts more constructively; build new partnerships; set shared objectives for growth in partnerships; engage in projects that require teamwork; engage in community more like clubs or community activities; practice gratitude for relationships; balance give and take in all types of relationships

Eighth House

- address fears and desires; explore intimacy and vulnerability; embrace personal transformation; let go of old patterns; delve into unknown aspects of life like psychology and spirituality; understand the importance of collaboration with shared resources

Ninth House

- explore different cultures, philosophies, or spiritual practices; question beliefs and values; pursue higher education or spiritual growth; plan traveling; define long-term goals; join discussion groups

Tenth House

- define career aspirations; reflect achievements and legacy; explore networking opportunities; enhance public image; seek leadership opportunities; cultivate leadership skills and confidence; consider what they can contribute to society;

Eleventh House

- nurture friendships and social connections; purse collective goals; connect with others with shared ideals and visions; engage in community involvement; work with friends on common goals; strengthen ties with friends and like-minded individuals; visualize future aspirations and dreams

Twelfth House

- explore spirituality; reflect on subconscious influences; address emotional healing; engage in solitude for introspection; focus on cultivating creativity and imagination; incorporate rituals or meditative practices into routine; address past traumas and emotional baggage; explore dreams through recording them; cultivate a compassionate mindset that acknowledges shared struggles and fosters a sense of community; find healthy outlets for emotional release, like through movement, art, or conversation

[queerprayers]

Hi! This advent I really want to honour my faith rather than just celebrating christmas in a secular sense. I found your post about advent and the liturgical new year inspiring, and I was wondering if you could point me towards some ideas or resources for advent practices or ways to go about worship specifically for this period - everywhere I've looked just talks about lighting candles, which I'm not able to do in my current housing. Do you have any suggestions?

Thank you for your blog and everything you write here, and I hope you have a wonderful new year <3

Happy Advent, beloved! Candles are great (including fake ones or felt/crafted ones)—or you could recreate a similar weekly/daily thing, like hanging another star in the window. But that's not your only option. Here are some thoughts! (I also said some similar things last year you might find interesting.)

One of the most meaningful things about my Advents growing up was the fact that it was visibly not-quite-Christmas. We put up our tree maybe a few days before but we didn't decorate it until Christmas Eve. We didn't listen to Christmas music till Christmas—we listened to Advent music. We put our nativity set in the window, but gradually—we would set up Mary and Joseph traveling to it, and I remember waiting to unpack the baby Jesus until Christmas Eve. (The wise men were on the bookshelf until Epiphany.) I've put a painting of the Annunciation on my altar, but Christmas stuff will wait. 

It's very important to me to make each season distinct materially. The things around me, the music I listen to, the books I read, the prayers I say, change tangibly—in Advent and Lent especially. My emotions come and go, what I'm thinking about is different every day, but it's Advent because I am doing Advent—and not yet doing Christmas, no matter what the music in the grocery store or the parties I'm invited to tell me. (I don't refuse to find joy in them, I'm just conscious about the fact that I'm in a different season. It's not as big a deal to me as the Lent/Easter divide, though, which I will defend with every part of me.)

I love liturgical colors for this reason, too—my church isn't very extravagant and mostly looks the same throughout the year, but the altar cloth is a different color. I know exactly what season it is just from that. (Our Advent is blue to honor Mary, but most people's is purple like Lent with maybe a pink Gaudete Sunday.) My home altar also changes color, so I have that visual in my room as well.

So do it on purpose, candles or no. Maybe wait on a few Christmas-y things, like ornaments or music (don't worry, Christmas has twelve days and then you can keep doing it all through the Epiphany season if you want). Make it Advent, whenever you start! 

Historically, Advent traditions have been very similar (or identical) to Lenten ones. The Orthodox church calls Advent the Nativity Fast. It's been a penitent preparation. Things we may associate with Lent, like going without things or structured prayer, can find a home in Advent as well.

Secular celebrations and consumerism have affected Advent as well as Christmas, with countless calendars and just in general by filling our lives with Christmas themes that might make us forget Advent has its own themes. (To be clear, I support anyone celebrating Christmas—once a religion evangelizes/colonizes/rules, it has no right to accuse people of appropriating its holidays. I am simply talking about how the cultural practice differs.) Advent has themes of peace and love and hope, but it's got more specific themes than that, scarier stuff than that. It's about Christ's coming in the Incarnation, but it's also about Christ coming all around us every day, and Christ's promised future coming.

Spend some time with Isaiah, spend some time with meditations on Mary (I just read some of Catherine of Siena's words which are here as a reading for March 25.). From the poem I posted, you can tell I spent some time with Joel last year. Here's the Revised Common Lectionary daily readings for these seasons—you could start a habit or do it for a season or explore some passages every once in a while. You can find the Book of Common Prayer's traditional Advent prayers here (The Collects >> choose Traditional or Contemporary language >> Seasons of the Year). The ancient "O Antiphons" accompany the Magnificat starting Dec. 17 (here's a booklet with commentary & Latin chant). Forward Movement has several podcasts, if you want to pray daily while commuting or taking a walk or right before bed.

There are a million Advent devotionals out there—you can find one from an author you like, or search your/a denomination + "advent devotional" or "advent prayers" and you'll probably find something. For some social justice oriented ones, I've found Red Letter Christianity's Reflections from Bethlehem (by Palestinian authors), Justice Unbound's Boundless: An Anti-Colonial Advent Devotional, and the UCC's Abolition Advent Calendar. Cole Arthur Riley (Black Liturgies) is doing an Advent series on her Patreon. Jan Richardson posts art and poetic blessings throughout the year.

In terms of books, I recommend:

Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas

Preparing for Christmas (Richard Rohr)

Celtic Advent (David Cole)

WinterSong (Madeleine L'engle & Luci Shaw)

Advent for Exiles (Caroline Cobb)

If you want poetry: Accompanied by Angels (Luci Shaw). 

I'll tell you a secret—most devotionals are meant to be read every day, but no one will know if you don't do that. You can start them at any time and read as much as you like whenever you like. Don't not start one because you don't think you'll be regular about it. 

And of course, you don't need a book to say "Advent" on the front for it to be an Advent book—or music or anything else. I'm about to start God Hunger: Discovering the Mystic in All of Us (John J. Kirvan) which I picked up at a book sale but it's on the Internet Archive! I'm drawn to poetry and Marian hymns in this season, and things that talk about the end of the world and prophecy. Whatever Advent is to you, surround yourself with it—and anything you're just starting to think about, you can explore.

The beautiful news is? The years spiral on, and Advent returns. Every year we're confronted with it, and every year I never do exactly what I wanted. But I've found some stuff to bring with me, some books to reread, things I know further my practice and things that don't. And when the spiral returns to this distinctive place of waiting for something already in our hearts, of hoping for something we don't understand, of inviting in someone who has already snuck in like a thief in the night, we can try again.

So happy Advent, and may yours be visibly, tangibly, purposefully Advent. May you be the impractical kind of hopeful and the holy kind of scared. Christmas is a miracle slowly being tended (rather than Easter's miracle erupting from the ground)—not that there's no blood, no surprise, but that for nine months Life itself grew quietly. So keep watch. Make your life a womb, make your Advent a narrowing toward the humanity God enters. Tend the darkness and bring in some light—a candle is just a way to do that, but there's so much light in the world. Here's to finding it.

<3 Johanna

[aemondsbabe]

A Promise is a Promise

summary: promises & phone sex || tom's trying his best to make it home to you by christmas, but a snowstorm derails his plans

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, phone sex, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, breast/nipple play, very slight angst but happy ending, probably not historically accurate bite me, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: happy day eleven of 12 days of smuff and happy christmas eve to everyone who celebrates!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as a part 2 to Homecoming or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @rxyl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Your breath fogs up the window as you look outside one last time, sighing heavily as you watch puffy snowflakes rain down from the sky, scattering through the pale yellow shafts of light from the street lamps. You peer up and down the quiet street, frowning at the sight of all the twinkling lights and festive candles that decorated so many of the townhouses, feeling decidedly un-cheery this year. 

Deciding that it wasn’t worth it to torture yourself further, you pad up the stairs to your bedroom, trying to ignore the soft glow from the Christmas tree in the front room. Your footsteps sound much louder than normal in the quiet house since your parents were out for the evening, attending some holiday party at a friend's house, one that you were in much too foul of a mood to even consider attending. 

You’ve hardly had the chance to change your clothes before the phone in your room starts ringing loudly, making you jump. Sitting on your bed, you roll your eyes as you reach for it, expecting it to be your parents or some friend, calling half drunk from a party no doubt. 

“Hello?” You sigh, pressing the phone to your ear as you stare disdainfully out the window, watching more and more of the traitorous snow fall from the dark sky. 

“Well, try not to sound too excited.” A familiar voice chuckles, instantly making you perk up.

“Tom?!” Your eyes widen as you press the phone harder against your ear, “Where are you? Are you okay? I thought you said you’d be home this afternoon!”

You can hear him laugh on the other end of the line at your rushed questions. “Relax, love, I’m fine,” he sighs, you can hear springs squeak softly in the background, like he’d sat down on a bed, “The train’s just got delayed, ice on the rails or some fucking nonsense, and with the damn snowstorm, well…” He sighs heavily.

“Delayed for how long?” You ask, crestfallen. 

“Dunno, the man at the station said maybe a day, maybe two,” you can practically hear his frustrated sneer, “What with it being Christmas eve, everything’s just a damn wreck, apparently.”

“Oh…” You try not to sound too heartbroken, not wanting him to feel worse, “Well, did you find somewhere to stay in the meantime? I hate the idea of you sitting at the station.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “Some shoddy little inn. The train had to stop at some farming town in the middle of God knows where, but a bed’s a bed, I suppose.” You can hear two thuds in the background, no doubt him tossing his boots off somewhere carelessly. 

“I’m glad you’re somewhere safe, Tommy,” you smile sadly, idly fidgeting with the bottom of your night shirt, well, really his nightshirt, “I wish you were with me, though.” You whisper, trying to ignore the sad little squeeze your heart gave. 

“Wish I was too, love.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, happy to simply listen to each other breathe after so many months apart. You really are trying not to let it get to you too much, but he only got so many days of leave from the RN and once he got shipped back out… you dare not think about it too deeply. 

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line and you furrow your brows as you listen, hoping the storm isn’t interfering with the phone lines too. 

“Tom?”

“‘M here,” he reassures you, springs creaking again as he settles back on the hotel bed, “Was just taking off my shirt.” He cooed, making you roll your eyes as you picture his playful smirk, your cheeks flushing as you imagined that cheeky little head bop that followed most of his lewd comments. 

“Now there’s a sight I’d like to see.” You hum, reclining back against the many pillows on your bed with a small smirk.

“Bet you’d be falling all over yourself for it,” he laughs, propping up a knee, “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long without it.”

“Without what?”

“My cock.” He answers, voice confident and cocky. 

“Tommy!” You squeak, giggling despite yourself, which makes him chuckle on the other end, “And here I was hoping months away would turn you into a romantic!”

“Fat chance, love.” He laughs heartily, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. 

Again, a comfortable silence washes over the two of you, each of you clinging to the phone like it was truly a lifeline, feeling closer than you have in months although you’re God knows how many kilometers apart. 

He sighs again, though this one makes you smile. It’s a familiar sigh, one he only does before he says something he knows will get a rise out of you.

“What’re you wearing?” You can hear his smirk, you can practically feel it on you as he speaks, his voice already low and raspy. 

You can’t help the tittering little giggle you let out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush further. “Erm, just your button down, actually,” you say, shy all of a sudden as you squirm atop your covers, “The one you wore in secondary some days… oh, and knickers.”

“And knickers,” he murmurs, quiet for a moment before continuing, “My girl in my shirt n’ I’m not there to see it. A real shame.”

“Yeah…” you whisper, fidgeting with the small buttons lining the front. 

“D’you have my shirt buttoned, love?”

“Yes?”

“You think you could unbutton it for me?”

The way he asks for it has your heart racing, excitement building steadily within you as you rub your thighs together, already seeking something to lessen the tension within you. Almost automatically, your hands reach for the buttons as you cradle the phone on your shoulder, holding it in place with your cheek. 

“Yes, Tommy.”

“That’s a good girl, love.” He praises, chuckling lowly as a small, delicate whimper just barely makes it through the phone lines. 

You scramble, all but ripping the shirt in two until finally the fabric falls away. You’re already breathing heavier, chest heaving enough to have the shirt slip off your chest instantly; your nipples harden quickly in the cool air of your bedroom, the small radiator only doing so much to heat the space. 

“It’s unbuttoned.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut as you desperately try to envision him doing the same. 

“God, I wish I was there,” he sighs and your ears perk up when you hear a soft tinkling in the background, cheeks heating up at the thought of him slowly taking off his belt, “I miss those perfect fucking tits, lovely girl. Got off thinking about them every night.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, your fingers skimming softly over your stomach, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. 

“Mhm,” he murmurs, already breathing hotly into the phone, “Pinch them for me, pretty girl, yeah? Like I would.”

You gasp and quickly do as he requests, not being able to hold off any longer yourself. You whimper into the receiver as you tweak your nipples, your eyes roll back in your head at the thrill that shoots down your spine and settles right between your legs. 

“Fuck, good girl.” He praises again, sounding like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

“What’re you wearing?” You ask breathily, lightly tugging at your stiff nipples still as you rub your thighs together, your center already aching, “What’re you doing?” 

“‘M rubbing my cock through my boxers,” he sighs heavily, “S’all I’ve got on.”

The thought makes you whimper again, imagining him cupping his already twitching length through the thin fabric of his underwear. Your mouth waters as you picture a wet patch near the tip, his cock leaking at the thought of you. 

“Tommy,” you sigh as your back arches into your own touch, “Can I?” 

Your meek question makes him chuckle. “Can you do what, love? You’ll need to be specific.”

You whine this time, biting your lip as your cheeks flush. “C-Can I…” you start, still feeling so impossibly shy around him sometimes, “Can I touch myself?”

“Thought you were already touching your tits?”

“Tommy!”

“C’mon, pretty,” he laughs, licking his lips as he imagines how cute you must look, cheeks all blushed with embarrassment, “Y’know what I wanna hear.”

“Can I touch my cunt?” You murmur, voice high-pitched and breathy.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head lolling back against his pillow, “Yeah, y’can, love, lemme hear you.”

Mindlessly, your hand drifts down. You don’t even bother to take off your panties, too impatient to go to the trouble as you shove your hand inside. A moan is punched out of you at the first touch, your core already throbbing as you glide your fingers through your slick folds. Tom groans along with you as your fingers finally begin swirling around your clit, your thighs spreading further. 

“What, shit,” you sigh, a shudder rippling up your spine, “What’re you doing now?”

“Got my cock out,” he rasps, his voice catching, “Thinking about you while I fuck my hand, God, I wish it was your tight cunt, pretty girl.”

You whine again, back arching once more as your fingers skim over your clit before dipping down to gather more slick from your dripping entrance. You all but see stars when you rub yourself again, core clenching around nothing. 

“Wish you were here…” You murmur, breath catching as you move your hand a little quicker. 

“Yeah?” He asks in a low voice, “What would you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips impatiently, like he was just at the end of the bed teasing you instead of lost somewhere in the countryside, “Want you to fuck me, Tommy.”

He groans, louder than he probably should in a small inn. Your face flushes when you hear him spit, imaging his cock glistening as he uses it to stroke himself. 

“Christ, I miss that pretty cunt,” he mutters, breath catching, probably speeding up in time with you, “Get a finger in there, love, fuck yourself like I would.”

Obediently, you do as he says, rutting against your own hand as you unceremoniously push two fingers into yourself, marveling at how tightly your walls already clench around them. 

“Fuck, Tommy!” You squeak, clit tingling every time your palm smacks against it as you fuck youself. 

“God, that’s it,” he groans, “Keep going, fuck, ‘m not gonna last.” He warns, knowing it’s been too long since he’d last had any privacy. 

“‘M not going to either,” you assure him, shaking your head to your empty room as if he could see you, “Feels too good, oh!” You gasp, your whole body tensing up as you crook your fingers up, expertly locating that sensitive spot within you. 

The two of you pleasure yourselves together for another few moments, heavy breaths and moans passing between the phones. Finally, Tom groans lowly again and swears through gritted teeth. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he pants, the slick sound of his hand streaking over his cock in the background nearly makes you unravel, “Cum with me, pretty girl, please.”

The whiny way he says please is your undoing and you finally break, calling out his name breathily as you arch against your sheets. Slick sounds fill your bedroom as you peak, breathless at the way your core clenches rhythmically over your fingers. 

Tom isn’t far behind you, his rough groans only adding to your pleasure. You whimper when he hisses out your name as he finishes, envisioning the way he paints his lower stomach with spend, cock twitching against his palm. 

You breathe heavily for a moment as you both come down before you dissolve into giggles, your sour mood from earlier almost completely gone. 

“Fucked you dumb n’ I’m not even there,” Tom gloats, sighing as he wipes away his cum with his boxers, too tired to get up and clean himself off properly, “You’re gonna make me blush, love.” 

“Tommy!” You groan playfully, admonishing him through a giggle, “You’re horrible.”

“You love it.” He laughs tiredly, yawning quietly. 

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, the bed squeaking again as he makes himself comfortable, “Sorry love, s’been a long day.”

“I would imagine so,” you smile sadly still, twirling the phone cord around a finger, “I’ll let you sleep.”

“I’ll get to you tomorrow,” he promises, his voice heavy with sleep, “I swear, told you I’d be back for Christmas.”

“Tommy…” You sigh, glancing out the window to see snow still pouring from the sky.

“I mean it,” he murmurs tiredly, “A promise is a promise.”

You wake with a start, jerking up in bed as you look around blearily, unsure of what woke you. Your eyes narrow as you glance at the clock on your bedside table, too early still for even your alarm to be going off. 

You jump as you hear a knock from downstairs, someone pounding at the door. Rolling your eyes, you slip on a robe before making your way downstairs. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You sigh, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you reach for the doorknob, tugging it open with a frown. 

“Wha–” You stop in your tracks, gasping loudly.

“Y’gonna let me in or are you gonna leave me out here to freeze my bollocks off?” Tom asks with a grin, laughing when you practically leap into his arms and pull him into a suffocating hug. 

“Tommy!” You gasp, clinging to him, “How did you, when did you?” You stutter, a million questions running through your mind. Finally, you pull back just enough to look at him, nearly crying as you at last look into his familiar blue eyes, “How?” You breathe.

“A very nice famer with a truck,” he laughs, holding you tightly to him, “Told ya I’d get home to you by Christmas.” 

Not being able to hold off anymore, you press your lips against his, feeling warm despite the cold.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[mercurygray]

Friends! I have a lot of things to celebrate - and one of them is all of you! This blog has just recently passed 1400 followers, so I decided I should have a little party.

Longtime readers of this blog will know that I love a prompt list, so to mark the occasion, I’ve made one of my own - and since friends, followers, fandom, and fourteen hundred all start with F, that's the theme we're sticking with!

Pick a prompt from the" words for the letter F" list, and, using one of the fandoms, frequent characters, or OCs usually on this blog, you can create something to share! This could be a fic, a moodboard or graphic, gifset, or another creative outlet of your choice. Then, when you’re done, tag me and I’ll share it here!

You do not have to be following me to participate! Simply send me an Ask or a DM with the word (or two, or three) you’d like to use for a prompt. (You can mention which fandom you’re using, or keep it a surprise!) I'll add all the words and their authors here, and add links when the work is finished!

More details below the cut - this is a pro-readmore blog, after all.

If your writing is over 500 words, please use a Read More or I cannot in good conscience share it! Please use appropriate tags for ships and for content warnings.

Canon couple, OC fic, and gen fic are all welcomed! (No reader insert, please.) F/M and multi ships are preferred, but I have been known to enjoy the occasional M/M drabble as well, if that’s more your style!

This author does not particularly enjoy kidfic or underage fic, non-con, mpreg, incest, the use of y/n, RPF, a/b/o, coffeeshop or college aus.

This author loves historical aus, original female characters, appropriately tagged smut, punctuation and paragraph breaks, and learning something new. If you would like, I welcome and love work for my own OCs, so if you’ve always wanted your characters and mine to have a teaparty, this is the time for it!

Frequent Fandoms List A Discovery of Witches, Band of Brothers, Downton Abbey, Dune, House of the Dragon, Masters of the Air, Mercy Street, The Pacific, Peaky Blinders, SAS: Rogue Heroes, Vikings:Valhalla

OC List available here.

[tanadrin]

What’s the case for an upper and lower chamber?

In my opinion, none.

The historical situation is that the upper chamber had more power and the lower was a sop to the common folk and petty nobility: this is why the House of Commons was formed (originally from knights of the shire and the representatives of cities that had been granted special rights by the Crown), and only later, after a very long process of constitutional evolution in Britain, did the Lords transform into a consultative body that was adjunct to the Commons, where the real power lay. For a while, even after you started to have something that looked like modern government in Britain, you still frequently had PMs drawn from the Lords--and still could, in theory, except that the convention is they come from the Commons.

In the U.S. example, the goal was simply to split the difference between a popular chamber (the House) and a chamber representing state governments (the Senate, whose members could be chosen by any method provided for under state law, but originally were usually chosen by state legislatures). This is because the people who drafted the U.S. constitution hated and were suspicious of popular democracy, because they were rich landowners and slaveholders whose positions were untenable in the long run if everyone in the country could vote and was equally represented.

Obviously they didn't put it like that--they spoke of the hotheaded hoi polloi, the changeable will of the people--but they were massive Romeaboos, and all the populist leaders who whittled away at the Roman republic managed to do so because they were willing to centralize power, to take it away from the baronial elite of the Republic, and to use that power in service of people further down the org chart. In service of themselves too, of course--these were not altruists--but it was the particularly Roman instantiation of the crown-vs-barons struggle, where the common folk usually side with the Crown, because the barons are bastards who abuse them directly.

(Very many "tyrants" in history were "tyrants" only in that they gave a raw deal to the barons in their particular social order, and very many events which we now describe as movements toward a more equitable distribution of power were in fact a very shitty deal for the majority of the population--the peasants--because it gave the barons even more license to abuse their serfs.)

And the American founders knew all this, and they were all barons, and they didn't like the idea of a federal government that was too effective, so they sprinkled it with veto points and also totally failed to anticipate the rise of modern political parties. (Which weren't exactly what they had in mind when they warned against factionalism--that was more about sectional interests. But still, they did totally fail to anticipate how this system would work as party politics developed.)

In a system of democratic government like the U.S. has now, where it is widely acknowledged the rule should be "one adult citizen never convicted of a felony who can get the day off work to stand in line and has a photo ID = one vote" the U.S. Senate is an inexcusable anachronism. Indeed, the Supreme Court has ruled that state senates modeled on the exact same principle as the U.S. senate (say, one county one senator, as the constitution of my home state Tennessee has it) are unconstitutional, because they violate the equal protection clause.

More recently, many countries have approached the idea of an upper chamber as a sort of "chamber of experts" meant to review and advise on legislation. This kind of makes sense in theory, I guess, but if voters want subject-matter experts to make policy, they can vote them in; in practice, any system of appointment or ex officio qualification is going to select for political lackeys without democratic mandates, and it's also just a bad idea to have people with significant power over the legislative process who do not have democratic accountability. The problem of creating legislation is never that we don't have enough smart people willing to offer their opinions; the problem is brokering functional compromises between interest groups and resolving incentives that push the process toward dysfunctional outcomes, which isn't really something you can fix just by fiddling with the composition of your upper house.

So in most modern parliamentary democracies, upper houses are reduced in power. Either they can't veto bills permanently (Lords), they can't originate money bills (Lords again), they only have input on certain matters (German Bundesrat), they're full of government appointees to ensure the government always has a majority in them (Irish Seanad), or the lower house can overrule them on most matters (Japanese House of Councillors). And the reason why is obvious: if your democratic mandate comes from the lower house, if that's where your government is being formed in a parliamentary system, if the whole principle of government is meant to be collective self-rule by the body of citizens, an upper house that is a check on that power is either definitionally redundant or a brake on democracy.

There are ways to ensure that a lower house is both representative and does not devolve into factional chaos. Proportional representation, four-year terms, constructive motions of no confidence (again, parliamentary systems only), etc. Plenty of countries and subnational entities have unicameral legislatures and are perfectly stable: Sweden, Norway, the Baltics, Portugal, Mongolia, South Korea, Peru [ok bad example nvm], all the states of Germany, all the provinces of Canada, most of the provinces of Argentina, Queensland, the vast majority of the states of India, and the three devolved legislatures in the United Kingdom.

Therefore in my opinion there is no good democratic case for an upper house. And all the undemocratic reasons why you'd want one are bad. Too much democracy is, in fact, a very rare problem for systems of government to have!

[jenplayssims]

Sims 4 “Oregon Trail” Challenge (BACC)

Inspired by playing Oregon Trail on the Switch recently with my family as well as the Homestead Challenge for Sims 2 by child_of_air, I wanted to create a historical build a community challenge (BACC) with references to the Oregon Trail game (ie, river crossings, death by illness, new pioneers arriving by wagon train, etc). The below are guidelines for play, many adapted from the Sims 2 challenge for use in Sims 4. Please consider these guidelines flexible and tweak them as you wish to fit your gameplay. This challenge was written with all packs in mind but can be played without them.

HUGE thanks to @antiquatedplumbobs for providing me valuable feedback and helping my idea really come to life! Also thanks to @cowplant-snacks​ for being a sounding board and providing feedback. This challenge wouldn’t be the same without either of their input and I am so grateful!

The Basic Rules 

1. There is no electricity, no running water, and no access to technology that wasn’t invented prior to the 1850s. You may wish to utilize the lot trait “off the grid” to aid with this, but this is not essential. As long as the home, decor, and most behaviors of the sims matches the time period, how restrictive you choose to be in your gameplay is up to you. “Close enough” is ok for this challenge.

2. Each member of your wagon party has a backstory to their lives, and many of them are trying to escape from the confines of the restrictive social order or begin a new life. However, the items they take with them will be restricted to what their social rank was when they left. Space on the wagon is limited, and only the most precious items would be taken along. (More on items below)

3. At the start you will play your aspiring pioneer household as they journey by wagon to their destination, facing obstacles along the way. Once your pioneers arrive at their destination, they will all move into a boarding house with a host sim. Only the host household (which includes your first set of pioneers) will be played at this point. Once sims move out and begin their own homesteads, the neighborhood will be played in rotation. Each house will be played for 1 week (length of rotation of your choosing. 1 week is my recommendation).

4. Only the host or hostess at your destination will be able to have a job at first, which will be in politics. Everyone else will have to focus on developing their skills, adding to their hope chests, and preparing for their own homesteads. Sims cannot marry or move out of the boarding house until they have produced enough goods to begin their own homesteads.

5. Please note that your end destination does not have to resemble Oregon. The Oregon Trail game was simply an inspiration for this challenge.

Time 

The concept of time passing is up to you. You may want to let the seasons dictate the years, or you may want to base your year around a biological marker, such as the sim age spans. Some may want to make their own metric for years (ie, 4 days = 1 year). You may choose to not bother with the passage of time at all. If you choose to advance the passage of time, you will need to keep track of advancing technology (I recommend Decades Challenge for inspiration). This challenge could be played as a prequel to the Decades Challenge.

Getting Started

1. Create your wagon train lot for your pioneers to live on as they travel to their new home. You can build this yourself or pull a lot from the gallery (my recommendation is Oregon Trail Camp by HistoricalSim). If building your own, this functional tent looks like a covered wagon - http://simfileshare.net/folder/183978/ kindly hosted by @cowplant-snacks, amazingly made functional by @superflare, original by inabadromance.

2. Host Sims and House - Before the pioneers’ journey is complete, you will need to create a host house and a host/hostess sim. (Note: This step can be done right at the start or can wait till their journey is almost over.) Create a host sim of your choosing. This will be the only sim in the initial household able to hold a job, which should be in politics. The host will be the one to hand out homestead deeds (though not literally). The wagon load of pioneers will begin their new life here as they gather supplies and build up their skills to qualify for a homestead of their own. Consider it a boarding house of sorts and build accordingly. You’ll want space for many sims as well as skilling/crafting items available for use. 

3. Townies - Your game should have as few townies as possible to begin with as your first pioneers should be part of the town’s founding. You may use mods to prevent the game from spawning townies or you may create your own and use mods to make them fill the roles the game would normally spawn new sims for (mailperson, bartender, etc). You can also allow the game to spawn as it needs to and either ignore those sims or make them over to fit the historical context. (Note: The Sims 2 Homestead Challenge mentions creating Native people to serve as existing townies. This is up to the player)

4. Create your first wagon of settlers

a. Roll a dice to see how many are on the wagon (1-7, unless you use mods to increase the household sim limit). They can be teens-adults. If you want to roll for gender, age, traits, etc you may. You can start with a married couple or single sim if you wish, but keep in mind that not all sims are guaranteed to survive the journey so more sims may be better for this challenge.

b. For each sim, roll their socioeconomic background: This determines the quality and quantity of items each sim may have brought with them to begin their new life/homestead. Note: Sims 4 furniture is stored in the shared household inventory, so may want to roll and make note of this somewhere but not actually choose the items until the sim has moved to their own homestead. 

1-2: Indentured Servant or Former Slave (2 Items, poor quality) 

3-4: Lower Class (5 Items, poor quality)  

5: Lower Middle Class (6 Items of poor quality and 3 items of medium quality)  

6: Middle Class (10 items medium quality)

c. Likewise with animals - it stands to reason that some would have brought livestock or perhaps a pet with them, but as these won’t really come into play until the sim moves to their own land, you can decide what they have now and then add them later.

5. Move them into your wagon train lot and begin their journey!

Optional: You can use my save file as a starting point for this challenge. It contains a wagon camp (Oregon Trail Camp by HistoricalSim) placed in Willow Creek. It also has the calendar already set up to include events on the journey and holidays (more on the journey and calendar below). Host house and sims are not included. http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4024989/

The Journey:

Your wagon of pioneer sims will begin their journey in spring. Their goal is to reach their end destination before winter begins. The length of this stage is up to the player - you may want to drag out the survival struggle or you may want to zip through it quickly. The average time of travel was 150 days. I’ve included a sample calendar below from my save file. The Oregon Trail begins in Missouri and ends in Oregon, and typically took months to complete with many hardships along the way. Any sim who becomes sick while on the journey will need to have a dice rolled for their survival odds (even - they live, odd - they succumb to their illness and die along the trail unless they are within a day of a Fort where they can purchase medicine). Also along the way are 4 river crossings (Kansas, Big Blue, Green, Snake) as well as passage through the Blue Mountains near the end. There are also 4 random events in the spirit of the original Oregon Trail game. For each of the 5 major events (spaced however the player chooses), roll a dice for their odds of success. 

1-3 unsuccessful attempt at crossing - roll to see which sim doesn’t make it

4-6 successful crossing - continue on

For the 4 random events on the calendar, roll a dice to determine which sim will be affected by the event. Roll the dice again for survival odds - if a 3 is rolled, your sim dies. 

Once the events are completed, the wagon arrives at the boarding house and moves in temporarily until their own homestead can be secured.

The sample calendar below from my save file includes all 5 events spaced out as well as a couple of stops at Forts where supplies can be purchased (medicine, food if you’re playing using the Simple Living lot challenge). I also included 4 random events and a few holiday celebrations.

Optional: If you’d like to further simulate pioneers journeying across the country, you can move your pioneer sim household to wagon camps in different worlds with each river/mountain crossing. If you’re using my save file, use the numbered wagon train lots as listed below.

Recommended worlds to use:

Kansas/Big Blue River Crossings - #1 stay on original lot in Willow Creek

Green River Crossing - #2 Henford

Snake River Crossing - #3 Oasis Springs

Blue Mountains Crossing - #4 Copperdale

Homesteads:

In order to qualify for a homestead, sims must gain 4 skill points in 3 different skills (Baking, Cooking, Cross Stitch, Fishing, Fitness, Flower Arranging, Gardening, Gourmet Cooking, Guitar, Handiness, Herbalism, Horse Riding, Juice Fizzing, Knitting, Nectar Making, Painting, Piano, Pipe Organ, Violin, Writing) as well as meet the qualifications for homesteads below:

Basic Homestead: all skills obtained, $100 starting fund, 10 household wares

2 Bedroom Homestead: all skills obtained, $200 starting fund, 12 household wares

3 Bedroom Homestead: all skills obtained, $300 starting fund, 20 household wares

Middle Class Homestead: all skills obtained, $400 starting fund, 30 household wares

If sims decide to marry, they must each obtain the skills individually but can pool household wares and money to qualify for a homestead. 

Since work is not allowed for the pioneers until they move out, they will need to grow and sell produce or create and sell crafted items to earn money. Items can be sold through their inventory for ease if desired. If using Chestnut Ridge as their town, items can also be sold at the General Store.

Household wares include what they rolled from earlier based on their socioeconomic backgrounds as well as anything they create while in the host house.

Note: if you choose to play with the Simple Living lot challenge turned on, you will also want your sims to bring some produce, canned goods, and possibly seeds with them to their homestead.

Once in their own homesteads, they can expand as they have funds and need or can move to a new lot.

Optional: When two homesteads have been established, you can build a Trading Post. This is where your sims can sell their wares through the sales tables available in Sims 4. A grocery stall from Cottage Living may also be placed. They can also sell items at the General Store in Chestnut Ridge.

If you prefer a lot from the Gallery, I highly recommend Old Western Township built by antiqueplumbobs (antiquated plumbobs : Western Township - Simblreen Gift #1 A CC-Free... (tumblr.com) It is perfect as a community lot for this challenge.

When all pioneer sims from the initial wagon have moved into their own homesteads, a second wagon of pioneers can be created and start their journey. As your initial sims have families of their own, you may choose to create families to journey to your town rather than individual sims. The second (and any future) wagon train households created will be played in rotation with the homestead households established by your original pioneers.

Careers:

Once on their own established homesteads, your sims can begin careers. 

At home careers: farmer, orchard owner, florist, woodworker, dairy farm, llama farm, chicken farm, horse breeder, goat herder, sheep farmer, nectar maker, juice fizzer, herbalist

Careers in game: fisherman, manual laborer, gardener, painter, politician, writer, lawyer, doctor, teacher, criminal, entertainer (Note: I would suggest creating a specific sim to be the doctor to unlock medicine, creating a teacher to be part of a wagon train once your town begins to have infants/toddlers, etc - add the careers as it makes sense for your town, as most making this journey initially would have been farmers).

Optional careers:

Create a clergyman to perform marriage ceremonies among the settlers. Can add a fee to their household funds for each marriage performed, etc.

Add in custom careers, such as Fur Trader ( Peebs : Fur Trade Career | Original Career This career... (tumblr.com) )

That’s it! See how far your town can grow and advance as new settlers arrive but most importantly, have fun!

PDF link to rules

[raeynbowboi]

Playing a Heroic Necromancer in DnD 5e

Necromancy is one of the most evil-skewed powers in just about any fantasy setting. However, unless you're running a villain campaign, most DnD parties are made up of heroes who won't like having an evil character in their midst. You want to play a necromancer, but you also realize that DnD is a very collaborative game. So, how do you make your party more amicable towards the thought of you raising a family? Here's some possible backstory ideas that can fuel a heroic necromancer for your next campaign.

The Scholar

The taboo, illegal, or forbidden nature of studying necromancy drew your interest. Whether you studied with a secret sect, uncovered a grimoire of necromantic magic, or made a deal with a devil for profane knowledge, you were driven by a desire to study magic. The sparse availability of necromancy forces you to remain mobile, making party formation easy. You may be hunted by law enforcement, clerics of Kelemvor, or other necromancers angry at you for stealing their arcane secrets. And now that you know what so many tried to hide from you, it's your choice how to use it.

The Chronicaller

History is written by the victors, the rich, and the powerful. But every life holds valuable knowledge and secrets. Ancient bones know things lost to time. Knowledge that was never written down. Stories which have not been spoken in centuries. Opinions of the common people during a historical event. Experience with phenomenon that can no longer be encountered. The Chronicaller wishes to unearth the secrets of the past already laid to rest.

The Physician

The Frankenstein of Necromancers wishes to understand the medical and scientific elements of life and death itself. To understand the body by inspecting it and digging into it. They may study how to cure diseases or how to spread them. Try to find a way to slow or even halt the slow decomposition that turns the body elderly and frail.

The Thayan Rebel

Once a Red Wizard of Thay, you have left Thay and the Red Wizards, letting your hair grow back slowly as you seek to expand your arcane talents beyond the limitations of Thayan conquest and oppression. The Red Wizards and Szas Tam become personal antagonists for your character and party as a result.

The Undead

Be they a Revenant, a Dhampir, a Vampire, a Lich, or something else, they are already imbued with undead power. They simply embrace their anti-life energy already flowing through them, channeling a power most others would avoid. You may be undead, but you desire to staunchly defend the living from other undead who are less compassionate.

The General

A wizard with a soldier background and optional martial multiclassing, your undead horde is your army of loyal soldiers, putting their lives on the line again and again to serve their general. An Oathbreaker 7/wizard 6 adds your CHA mod to undead within 10 ft, and proficiency bonus to all undead you control. But the steep dip into paladin locks you out from higher level spell slots for stronger undead minions.

The Noble

Similar to the general, the undead serve you out of loyalty, not fear or force. But where the general commands their soldiers, the Noble may command their staff of servants, their commoner citizens, their knights and soldiers, or their own noble ancestors. The Noble utilizes their horde to fulfil the services and duties of their noble house. They're just as likely to conscript skeletons to pave a road or build a bridge as they are to form a wave of zombies to break up a smuggling ring in their city.

The Immortal Guardian

You have or want to become immortal not out of power hunger or greed, but to protect the innocent forever as an unwavering guardian against evil. Everyday people can't protect themselves, and even legendary heroes die eventually. Only an immortal protector can be an eternal defender of the people.

I hope if nothing else, this gave you some ideas for some good and noble necromancers you could bring to your next table. Did I miss any Heroic concepts that you thought of? Let me know, and help make the world a more morbid place.

[gnomeyflamingo]

✯ A Sim-ply Historical House Party ✯

Today Kiry is graduating High School. His absurdly wealthy & famous mothers have bought a TS2 re-creation of the Beaker House to host his themed costume party in. Ofcs, Acco, and Atreo are invited!

Atreo: “Omw, look at it! It’s exactly as described in our history books!”

Acco: “Hiya Kiry!"

Kiry: “Good evening and welcome! I appreciate the effort you put into your costumes, I can very easily tell you are meant to be Don Lothario and Pascal Curious."

Acco: “I’m so excited, congrats again on graduating and with such high grades!”

Kiry: “Thank you!"

Atreo: “I’m in awe, the attention to detail… I never knew your mums were so rich!”

Kiry: “They truly went all out. We even have a DJ and a juice keg for the occasion.”

Atreo: “Juice?! This party is gonna be amazing!"

Acco: “Pascal and Nervous were such a good idea for a couples’ costume by the way.”

Kiry: “I can’t even explain how right this feels. Seeing us both dressed like this is making me happy and highly flirty."

Atreo: “Yes!! Juice, juice, JUICE! Let’s all get dazed!”

Atreo: “Really? Cassandra? Don’s fiancée? Coincidence much?”

Zehra: “It's not. I did my research.”

Atreo: "You went through my trash again, didn't you?"

Zehra: "Ah you got me!"

Atreo: "It's a good thing I like you."

Kiry: "You… do? I need to process this information."

Most of the guests head into the courtyard to dance to the TS2 soundtrack. Everybody seems to be having a blast. It's a hot, sweaty night so the juice is flowing fast.

Acco: “I swear Atreo’s not paying any attention to me at all. I bet he still doesn't know about me and Kiry. I’ve told him like 3 times! I have a feeling he’s not gonna like it…”

Onyx: “Oh who cares what your stupid brother thinks? You’re happy, that’s all that matters."

Acco: “I suppose… great costumes btw guys.”

Onyx: “Who knew dressing as a 40-something Mum would feel this comfortable?”

Acco: “Denise you really look like Olive Specter. It’s scaring me.”

Denise: “Aw thank you Acco. You won’t end up in my garden tonight.”

Derya: “Do you need help?”

Zehra: “Ha! Not from you. I can’t believe you dressed as gold digger Dina.”

Derya: “Esma suggested we be the twins-"

Zehra: “You always leave me out! I wanted to be Nina and dream about hottub woohoo with Atreo.”

Derya: “Go and snipe at Esma then."

Derya: “ Wow Atreo, you totally pull off the Don look.”

Atreo: “Thanks, you make a good Dina.”

Derya: “You up for some roleplay? We could mess around in the shower?"

Atreo: "Oh Dina, we shouldn't. I’m engaged."

Derya: "It'll be our secret. Meet me in the bathroom later."

Atreo: “Hey! Cool costumes… You’re the Burbs right?”

Asmara: “Yup, John and Jennifer. Where’ve you been Atreo? I haven’t seen you in ages, we should really catch up… as friends I mean.”

Atreo: “Yeah… Sorry. Later. So does this mean you’re a couple?”

Asmara: “What? No!”

Aldo: “OMW I’m into guys. I told you this. We both have! Do you listen, like ever?”

Asmara: Yeah this is just a friend thing, we thought it’d be cute.”

Atreo: “Oh thank the Watcher.”

Esma: “If you’re Don Lothario, where’s your beard?”

Atreo: “Ugh I couldn’t grow it and my cheeks are just too silky smooth to glue on a fake one.”

Esma: “Your lack of commitment is disappointing.”

Atreo: “Hey you’re Nina, you’re meant to be into me!”

Atreo: “Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?”

Zehra: “Not really, but I’m excited about yours! A young adult in two days! I wonder what your rolls will be?”

Atreo: “Yeah well, I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Atreo: “The Watcher and their friends really don’t like me, so my future is looking bleak… Yeah not gonna dwell on it.”

Zehra: “Don’t worry my love. I will be there to support you every step of the way.”

Derya: “Sooo I’m heading to the bathroom just so you know.”

Zehra: “Uck you’re so weird and gross. I’m gonna hack your social bunny and tell everybody."

Atreo: "And I'm gonna go to set off the fireworks I bought real fast. My bladder bar is very low suddenly."

Atreo quickly heads up the stairs to light the fireworks he set up earlier, looking forward to messing around with Derya. He’s determined to distract himself from all the stuff he doesn’t want to accept is happening and is completely unaware of what he’s about to witness…

(for app) >> Next Page >> Previous Page

❧ Back to the Legacy Archive

[darkmaga-returns]

Yet another politician has come out to abandon the Democratic Party, which has begun breaking off into factions in recent years. Donald Trump himself was once a Democrat, as were RFK, Elon Musk, Tulsi Gabbard, and countless others. Rep. Susan Valdes of Florida has become the latest politician to switch affiliation from Democrat to Republican.

Valdes explained that her affiliation with the Democratic Party was simply out of habit. We see this throughout the nation as people who have historically voted blue or red will continue to vote on party lines even if the ideology has changed. “I have done so as a Democrat partly out of habit — I come from a family of Democrats — and partly because I believed the Democrats were the party most concerned with the working families I represent,” Valdes stated.

The Democratic Party is no longer the anti-establishment, anti-war party that it was decades ago. The false virtue signaling to specific groups while ostracizing others is not the same Democratic Party of love and peace that opposed the Vietnam draft. Countless citizens and politicians simply vote along party lines per tradition without realizing that the ideology has completely changed.

“I’m tired of being the party of protesting when I got into politics to be part of the party of progress. I know that I won’t agree with my fellow Republican House members on every issue, but I know that in their caucus, I will be welcomed and treated with respect,” Valdes continued.

Florida has never had more Republicans in the House of Representatives. Some may say this large switch happened during COVID when people flocked to the Sunshine State to flee oppressive COVID laws. Especially with remote work becoming commonplace, people then had the ability to move to states that aligned with their viewpoints.

The Democrats have refused to acknowledge that their entire Marxist agenda failed. Bidenomics failed. The Build Back Better movement is failing and the people are not sold on the globalist regimes. The left bought their personal political narrative that demonizing Trump would indeed send people running into their arms. Trump’s victory sent shockwaves through the Democratic Party once they realized that all their propaganda had FAILED – the people still preferred Trump over the current status quo. Americans are not happy with the leftist regime.

[joe-kewl]

any enlightened stance on the ol election, joey?

Apologies for coming back to this so late.

You simply would not believe the shit that has transpired to me in the last 2 weeks.

Anyway, I don't know what I *could* say that hasn't been said already.

https://whyharrislost.com/

This little thing, from a clearly disillusioned leftist is very long and thorough (and mostly correct), is composed of almost all valid points, but because of what they DON'T see or acknoledge, and of course the mention of a symbolic gesture to making Kamala president at the end, it is still wrong.

It comes down to a simple fact. The Left has not figured out, and maybe cannot figure out, how wrong they are. How delusional, irrational, cultlike, and out of touch they are. And they are so broke that they cannot course correct and self reflect on this HISTORIC loss.

You lost every fucking swing state, the House, the Senate, Congress, even the popular vote. The Blue Wall wasn't broken like 2016 it was fucking *run over without even slowing down the vehicle.* The Wall was a *speed bump* at best.

America hate hate hate hate HATES DEI, absolutely despises the whole "istphobe" bludgeon, and hates Kamala as a representation of the DEI party. They fucking hate pretentious knownothings like Hasan and Vaush telling them they're stupid for not agreeing when those mouth breathing retards say some of the stupidest takes, even non political ones, to ever be uttered. They hate working more than they have in living memory and being poorer than they've ever known, and to be told by these people "erm ackshually you are wrong, uneducated plebian." They despise how the quality of entertainment has sharply dropped in the last 8 years, but exponentially in the last 4. People hate the movies and TV now. It's all crap. I have boomer coworkers that have given up on them both and have picked up fucking hobbies. You can distract the public with bread and circuses, but the bread got too expensive and the circuses stopped being entertaining, and that is the left's fault.

And rather than realize maybe we're out of touch at best and the bad guys at worst, they octuple down (because they've already doubled down on the double down) and say they need to start targeting X/Twitter to reinstate Pre-Elon style running (you know when the sight was a crazy woke hellhole of constant propaganda and censorship. And pedophilia.) As well as get their own Joe Rogan and media networks. Oh you mean like MSNBC, CNN, ABC, even Fox who used to be counter to those and the BBC who aren't even American, and having so so so FUCKING MANY leftist Podcasters that you can just go to the Politics category, close your eyes and blindly click and you'll likely get a leftist lens Podcast. You fuckers are delusional and you just don't get that people are sick of you. You're wrong about fucking everything, and reality is stronger than ideology.

By all means, make that gesture. Have Joe step down and make Kamala the shortest running President. A literal month and a half. Do it. I hope they do. I hope the first female president is one who embodies DEI. Didn't Earn It. Make it so caustic that no one will ever look at the title seriously ever again. Make Kamala Harris the absolute laughingstock of presidential history. Who was president for a month and purely symbolic. Watch as historians don't even acknowledge her or count her in the numerical list. The 50th president will be not counting Kamala. **Fucking do it.**

You will secure loss upon loss forever, and I hope you do because you deserve to lose for your tyrannical fascist behavior in pushing gay race communism. Intersectional feminism, critical race theory, and gender queer theory, the 3 magic principles of Wokeness that compose the Rot that has infested all of the West and made it rapidly decay.

Almost all of this person's points are valid about Harris' campaign. But it doesn't matter, because they can't identify the core issue. You counted the branches, but you can't point at the tree they grow from. Wokeness itself is the enemy. The left is the party of wokeness. It will not divorce itself. It will lose and it deserves to lose.

As long as the left is the party of Gay Race Communism, it will remain steadfast in its tenets to diversity over merit, and that means it WILL NOT stop with the racism/sexism/homophobia pushing.

And it will lose, and it deserves to lose.

Something the poster doesn't want to acknowledge is how utterly caustic the Trans argument became.

People are mostly willing to let adult people transition. People are not willing to let their children get transitioned, especially without their consent. And then when you don't seperate the transitioned and they just settle in with the opposite gender like nothing the inevitable discomfort of biological reality sets in. Women athletes were robbed of awards on the altar of diversity and inclusion. Women going to the bathroom or locker room felt violated and only one side was willing to hear their pleas.

And another thing they don't acknowledge is the illegal immigration. Or gun control. And crime, which is a result of the first two. More vectors the left utterly lost. And deserved to lose.

So, you now have lost a bulk of Women voters who are normal and want to be safe and have families instead of crazy wine aunt spinsters committed to the party.

Congratulations, the Republicans have turned deportation into a women's safety issue, along with gun control. The feminist women's rights party will silence women if they were raped or killed by a migrant. Off they go to the gun toting Republicans.

How about the Israel-Palestine debacle? Well, just like Just Stop Oil, people had a sympathetic ear until activists were so fucking obnoxious and destructive and disruptive that any sympathy was destroyed, and at this point even people who were sympathetic to Gaza a year ago, I've heard them say "I hope Trump drops a Nuke on them and turns it into a giant glass dune." Cause. You know. Sand turns to glass in high heat. Do you understand that you are so grossly unsympathetic and immature and *HATEABLE* that people who were nuanced or wanted peace treaties are now actively pro-genocide for real simply because they want you to lose? Do you realize just how absurdly unlikeable you have to act to get to that point? "I hope everyone you support gets wiped out in a flash just so you'll shut the fuck up forever" and you still think you're not the problem?

In the last 4 years the left have had unparalleled position in the levers of power, a blank slate for their agenda. And what have they done with it? Make life worse on all fronts. It's kind of incredible how not a single thing they've pushed for has resulted in any improvement. It's just literally worse for all people. They've proven that it's somehow possible to make a regime so fucking broken that they turned Trump's 2016 presidency with America on an upward turn to even worse than the lowest depths of Obama and Carter's eras. That takes dedication to being wrong about literally everything. It's no wonder so many people think the left isn't incompetent but genuinely evil, with a batting average that consistent. After all, in order to get EVERY answer wrong, you have to know all the RIGHT answers. Thank you for that life lesson, Spiderverse, it's a surprisingly profound one. If they were incompetent they would at least *accidentally* do a couple things right.

So. Where are we now? We are now at a state in which the American people have wholesale rejected the progressive ideology. A hard, full stop. We haven't seen a preference cascade reversal like this in decades. Everything is too expensive, there is nothing good to watch because it's all woke crap, crime is up, my community is being invaded by foreigners, my employers would rather hire them and pay them pennies than employ me and give me an actual wage (so much for the left being the party of the middle class. I saw lifelong blue collar blue voters go full scorched earth on the Dems in the last few years), I can't afford a house because I can't make enough money between taxes, grocery inflation, and the demand of housing for foreign migrants choking the supply, so even hard working successful adults with degrees and trade school certifications are now equivalent to NEETS in their parent's basement, my superior isn't someone who knows what they're doing but an incompetent diversity hire who got pushed up instead of me because I'm a white person, the list goes on and on and on, in an endless death spiral of trying not to drown as the water level keeps rising no matter how hard you push. One of these things is gonna give and its gonna be the person, cause the water sure ain't.

How does the left fix this?

The left can't fix itself. Gay race communism is too sacred to it at this point. It is no longer just a branch but the core philosophy, like Fascism and government control. It is literally part of the ethos now. It can't be tweaked because it has fully absorbed it, and the two are now one. Like a Symbiote ingrained into your actual vital organs and becoming as one with the host.

It deserves to lose. It's made the lives of Americans a living nightmare. Americans, Europeans, Canadians, literally everywhere they go they make things worse.

They will not learn the lessons to correct this because they are too far gone. And they deserve to lose. They will continue to lose, and they deserve to continue to lose.

Enough is enough. You deserve to not just lose it all, but to never be taken seriously ever again. You deserve to be exiled from authority and influence, and anyone who says a woke talking point ever again to be ridiculed out of their position.

[gepgep2]

"So: what is the Israeli long-term strategy, really?

Insofar as there’s an answer, it seems to be that they simply don’t have one; the Israeli government no more has a long-term strategy for dealing with their future in the region than Exxon Mobil has a long-term strategy for dealing with climate change. They seem to just figure that, if US power does collapse or give up on them, something will turn up. No doubt too they have people in thinktanks brainstorming that, too, coming with reports and scenarios, but all this is basically an afterthought. The driving force behind the colonization of ’67 Palestine is not any sort of grand strategy; it’s a kind of terrible confluence of short-term political and economic advantage.

First, the settlements. They were originally the project of a relatively isolated, if well funded, collection of religious zealots. Now everything seems to be organized around them. The government pours in endless resources. Why? The answer seems to be that since at least the ‘90s, rightwing politicians in Israel have figured out that the settlements are a kind of political magic. The more money gets funneled into them, the more the Jewish electorate turns to the Right. The reason is simple. Israel is expensive. Housing inside the 1948 boundaries is exorbitantly expensive. If you are a young person without means, you increasingly has two options: to live with one’s parents until well into your 30s, or find a place in an illegal settlement, where apartments cost perhaps a third of what they would in Haifa or Tel Aviv—and that’s not to mention the superior roads, schools, utilities, and social services. At this point the vast majority of settlers live on the West Bank for economic, not ideological, reasons. (This is especially true around Jerusalem.) But consider who these people are. In the past, young people in difficult circumstances, students, well-educated young parents, have been the traditional constituency of the Left. Put these same people in a settlement, and they will, inexorably, even without realizing it, begin to think like fascists. Settlements are, in their own way, giant engines for the production of right-wing consciousness. It is very difficult for someone placed in hostile territory, given training in automatic weapons and warned to be constantly on one’s guard against a local population seething over the fact that your next-door neighbors have been killing their sheep and destroying their olive trees, not to gradually see ethno-nationalism as common sense. As a result, with every election, the old Left electorate further dissipates, and a host of religious, fascist, or semi-fascist parties win a larger and larger stake of the vote. For politicians, who can barely think past the next election, the lure is inescapable.

...I only came to fully understand the agony of the Palestinian situation when I came to understand that the entire point of life, in traditional Palestinian society, is put oneself in a position where you can be generous to strangers. Hospitality is everything.

...Wherever we went, Palestinians would tell us about all the different sorts of people they had historically welcomed to the Holy Land: Armenians, Greeks, Persians, Russians, Africans, Jews… They saw the Zionists as originally their house- guests. Yet they were the worst house-guests one could possibly imagine. Every act of hospitality, of welcome, is turned into license for appropriation, and the world’s most skillful propagandists leapt into action to try to convince the world that their hosts were depraved inhuman monsters who had no right to their own homes. In such a situation, what can you possibly do? Stop being generous? But then one is absolutely, existentially defeated. This is what people really meant when they talked about a life of calculated degradation. People were being systematically deprived of the physical, the economical, and the political means to be magnanimous. And to be deprived of the means to make that kind of magnificent gesture is a kind of living death."

https://davidgraeber.org/articles/hostile-intelligence-reflections-from-a-visit-to-the-west-bank/

[thethirdromana]

What were Victorian mental asylums like?

Since we're getting to know Jack Seward, I though it would be useful to find out a bit more about Victorian mental asylums of the kind that he owns.

I'm putting this under a cut for discussion of psychiatric abuse, involuntary hospitalisation, and ableist language in historical documents.

The pre-Victorian context

Pre-Victorian asylums were horrific for the poor. Wealthy patients were accommodated in private asylums that were much like private homes, where patients could bring in their own cooks and go out hunting, but poor patients were treated like animals, sharing beds in outbuildings, and often kept chained up or in straitjackets. Part of the problem was that there was simply a shortage of asylums for the poor, leading to overcrowding. (Source)

But by the early 19th century, reformers like Harriet Martineau and Samuel Tuke argued for better treatment, and especially opposed the use of restraints. Asylums gradually moved from treating patients like prisoners to treating them as people in need of care. In 1829, William Scrivinger, a patient at Lincoln Asylum, died after being left in a straitjacket overnight without supervision, which also acted as a spur to that asylum and others to move away from restraining patients. (Source)

Entry to an asylum

The process of reform continued with the 1853 Lunatic Asylums Act. This laid down the process of admission to asylums.

For private asylums (like Seward's), for someone to be admitted they had to have a medical certificate signed by two medical professionals. In theory, that safeguarded against abuse (i.e. people being sent to asylums for spurious reasons) though in practice, if you were willing to pay for a private asylum for a relative, it was relatively easy to persuade two medical professionals to sign off on admission. Women were sent to asylums more often than men, including for "immoral behaviour" such as having an illegitimate child. (Source)

Ticehurst House, a private asylum for the wealthy

Asylums for the poor required a certificate from a single medical professional as well as an order from "a Justice, a Clergyman, an Overseer, or the Relieving Officer (under the Poor Law)". The law straddled the line between the previous carceral approach (requiring any "Lunatic" "wandering at large" to be apprehended, examined and brought to an asylum if necessary) and a protective approach, with legal requirements to look after anyone who "is cruelly treated or neglected by any Relative or other Person having the Care of Charge of him".

What the law didn't provide was any way for the person being taken to an asylum to overrule the decision. They couldn't appeal for their own release, but could be released if a relative or friend were available to take care of them and prevent them from harming themselves or others. (Source)

Life in an asylum

The ward for female patients in Prestwich Asylum, near Manchester

Patients were kept strictly segregated by sex. It was typical to have 10 patients to every member of staff. During the day, patients were often encouraged to work, the men in farms on the grounds (which also helped asylums save money as they could grow their own food) and the women in laundry, cooking or sewing. In the evenings there would be plays, concerts and parties. (Source 1, Source 2)

This was grounded in the principles of "moral therapy", which aimed to teach patients how to fit in and be productive members of society. That sounds a bit grim, but its aim was to be gentle and humane with patients, and to help them live well outside of the asylum. (Source)

When Seward says:

I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell.

... this is probably a reference to the principles of moral therapy. Seward's role is to guide patients away from unwanted behaviour, which is why pushing Renfield to "the point of his madness" would normally be antithetical to Seward's treatment approach.

Other treatment varied. Some treatment was ineffective but harmless (e.g. warm baths for patients with depression), but other treatment was more extensive and actively unpleasant or even dangerous (e.g. "cold water therapy": pouring cold water over agitated patients until they calmed down).

[EDIT: I realise from some of the tags that I've given the wrong impression about this. It could be like being given a short cold shower... or it could be people having water poured over them for hours, or being ducked in a pond until they nearly passed out.]

There were very few drug treatments except sedatives, and some of the worst historical psychiatric treatments, like electroconvulsive therapy and lobotomies, weren't introduced until the 20th century. (Source)

By the end of the century, though, the improvements made by early reformers were going into reverse. Restraints and padded cells made a return, especially for poorer patients, and government-funded asylums faced overcrowding and could no longer provide careful, personalised care. (Source)

Modern-day equivalents

Holme Wood, a former asylum that's now an old people's home

I might be off base on this, but reading about Victorian asylums reminded me of nothing so much as modern-day old people's homes, at least in the UK.

They're intended for the care of a group of people who are often marginalised.

They're often in grand old buildings - in some cases, the same grand old buildings, like the one above.

If you're wealthy, they offer a high standard of care that's similar to your life not in the asylum/home.

Poorer people end up in state-funded care that most people agree fall short of the ideal.

Being able to leave the institution can be tricky, and often depends on having supportive friends or family members.

There are regular scandals in which patients are treated appallingly.

But the provision of care for the elderly/mentally ill is known to be a large, intractable problem; pretty much everyone in our society thinks we should do better but figuring out how to achieve that isn't easy.

I don't know how useful a perspective this is? But it feels illuminating to me, particularly in terms of how the care of people in asylums might have been perceived in wider society. If I were producing a modern-day Dracula AU, I think putting Jack in charge of a care home could give the same impression to a modern audience as an asylum would to a Victorian one.