#Driftwood - Year 1 - Summer

[katatty]

The old barracks up the hill are also officially in operation! Since Driftwood is right by the sea and has a river, I could see it being a tactically important spot where enemies overseas might land. So the military has a small pressence in the settlement.

The facilities aren't anything too fancy, but they're way more comfortable than anything the peasants get. In the Kingdom, military service is open to anyone. It can be a nice shortcut to a higher status if a sim doesn't mind risking their life in battle!

[sunlightmurdock]

Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin

masterlist | next chapter

You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)

A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1

Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.

Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.

On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.

Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.

Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.

On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.

At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.

Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.

Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.

The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.

Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.

His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.

Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.

Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.

Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.

Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.

Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.

“Say Uncle!” You demanded.

“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.

Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”

“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.

The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.

Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.

“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.

“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”

Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.

Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.

You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.

“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.

You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.

The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.

Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.

You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.

You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.

“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.

This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.

“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”

Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.

“Jake? — Of course.”

“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”

This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.

You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.

Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.

You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.

“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”

A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”

The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.

You just wish it would stop spinning.

“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.

But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.

Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.

It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.

Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.

Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.

Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.

Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.

But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.

Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.

…

@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot

[ransprang]

thank you anon for your request! we hope you like your match-up headcanons :3

If anyone else would like headcanons this is our kofi

ALEX <3

Sfw

1. How they met (again): A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you approached Evelyn’s door – summers spent helping Evelyn tend her garden, learning to bake perfect pies, and chasing fireflies with a freckled, grinning boy named Alex. When you rang the doorbell, a tall, handsome brunette opened the door. “Hi there, you’re new,” the man said flirtatiously, his gaze appreciative as he leaned against the doorframe, an easy grin on his face. "Actually, just moved back,” you replied. “I brought some stew for Evelyn. I used to spend summers here." A flicker of recognition crossed the stranger's face, then surprise. "Y/n?" He asked. You gaped, then a smile bloomed on your face. "Alex? Is that really you?" Alex grinned a bit sheepishly, "Yeah, yeah. Grew a bit since then, haven't I?" Evelyn bustled in before you could reply, the older woman’s face lighting up upon seeing her. "Y/n! You came back! Come in!" She ushered you to the kitchen and Alex followed. The afternoon flowed quickly, as the group caught each other up about their lives, with you discovering a new side to Alex – one that still held a hint of that mischievous boy you remembered. Evelyn turned to Alex, a playful glint in her eyes. "Remember that time you tried to impress Y/n with your..., artistic skills?" Alex's face turned the shade of a ripe tomato. "Gran!" he groaned, burying his head in his hands. You doubled over with laughter as memories flooded back – a lopsided driftwood mermaid with seaweed hair and a permanent surprised expression. Alex, then a freckled, gap-toothed ten-year-old, presenting his "masterpiece" with all the confidence in the world. As laughter filled the kitchen, you realized how much you missed these summers. You left with a smile on your lips and a promise to return soon. 

2. After you began visiting Alex’s house regularly with the excuse of visiting Dusty, Alex would soon enough start dropping by your house on his morning runs, with the excuse of visiting your cat Henry. Over time you both would realise they didn’t need excuses to see each other ;).

3. Dates would involve a lot of physical activity so if you weren’t physically fit already you would be soon enough. He would ask you to play catch on warm sunny days and the days the you both hang out inside, he would integrate you into his workout routine and make you sit on his back for push ups.

4. Alex would regularly compliment your appearance. He loves telling his girl she looks stunning. “Are those new jeans? They are doing something right ;)”

2. After you started began visiting Alex’s house regularly with the excuse of visiting Dusty, Alex would soon enough start dropping by your house on his morning runs, with the excuse of visiting Henry. Over time you both would realize you didn’t need excuses to see each other <3

5. You hate fishing? This man has never held a fishing rod in his life. All he cares about are sports, his dog, his grandparents and you <3 

6. You and him would go on cute dates and picnics around the Valley with Dusty. You would try out new recipes and bring packed lunches for the dates and Dusty would eat them all.

7.  Alex would ask you to teach him how how to cook, especially when he insisted on surprising Evelyn with a home-baked cake on your birthday. He tries to put his protein mix in the cake batter. You gently steer his hands away and prepares a backup cake. Alex’s cake would turn out surprisingly good, thus discovering his talent for cooking (thanks to Evelyn’s genetics) and the back up cake would go to the rest of the townspeople. 

8. Alex is really glad that you gets along with Evelyn, especially when it comes to them both cooking together. He loves watching you take part in domestic chores. Not in a sexist way, but it warms his heart watching you bond over something with Evelyn and be all feminine.

9. George on the other hand takes a long time to get used to your presence. He’ll often look like he’s scowling at you but he’s actually just judging and observing whether you are someone who will hurt him and his loved ones. When he sees you being bubbly and genuinely having fun with his family, George will wheel up to your conversations to simply listen. Alex notices this change in George over time and that’s how he knows he found the right girl <3

10. Alex is totally cool with you coming over to his room to just chill and listen to music or whatever while he works out. He’ll disturb you every now and then, “Babe, am I looking swole or what?” He gets used to parallel playing with you so often that he goes over to the farm to play with his football in your spacious land while you tend to the crops.

N/sfw

1. Alex at first wouldn’t let you dominate him. He has a silly backwards thinking that the man has to always be dominant and take control in bed. The first time you are able to dominate him is by tricking him. You would have to plead him to let you top for a few minutes just so you can feel his hard muscles and kiss them. With an easy stroke of his ego you are able to be on top. While he is busy playing with your boobs, you grab the handcuffs that you hid nearby and cuff him to the bed. From then on Alex lets you dominate him.

2. It’s very hard to get Alex to admit that he likes being edged. He loves the feeling of you kissing your way down his neck and chest all the way down to his cock. Watching and feeling your naked skin brush against his drives him nuts. And the way you tantalizingly kisse his dick without taking it in your mouth makes him want to thrust himself in there.

3. The height difference always makes Alex feel stronger around you. He enjoys picking your small frame up easily and pushing you back to the wall as you struggle to hold on to him. It doesn’t help that he kisses the most sensitive parts on your neck making your legs shake. Listening to your whimpers and moans from just that simple act makes Alex even harder, but he forces himself to take it slowly and not fuck you right then and then.

4. Alex loves watching the view as you ride him, watching your breasts bounce while his hands are tied to the headboard. He wishes he could fondle them, but he sticks to pumping fast from beneath.

5.While he is tied up you would pleasure him in different ways, starting with a handjob getting him close,  then slowly sucking on his tip with your lips and then riding him. This gets him extremely sensitive, and he cums fast and hard. 

6. Alex would roll his eyes back as he pumps you with your legs over his shoulders, you get a clear view of his eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

7. When Alex fucks you the bed shakes, his humping is fast and speedy as if to a beat. He 

moans and grunts into your ear as well. You both would have to slow down in case George and Evelyn would hear you.

8. Alex would definitely be into fucking you in the kitchen after he innocently asks you to teach him how to cook. He would bend you over the counter and run his fingers through your hair.

9. Alex likes to carry you up bridal style after having sex outside the bedroom and lay you down gently on the bed, watching your form. He would bring you water and kiss your forehead with a smile, telling you how much he loves you.

10. Alex is big on cuddling, he’s always the big spoon and laying in this position with him is dangerous as it almost always gets him hard and turns it into a heated session. 

your jocks,

admins sar, sav, & san

[biscuitblinkeu]

I Speak for the Trees [Pt 1]

Jennie x Fem!reader

Word Count: 5471

Prompt: Jennie never planned to stay with her mother for seven months. She didn't plan on her mother and father divorcing either, and because of that, her relationship with her mother has always been rocky. They move to a new state, and that means a new town, new neighborhood, new school, new life. Her mother believes this will be a fresh start; Jennie believes it’ll be a disaster and hates everything about it, but when she befriends a strange girl everything gets a little brighter.

A/n: I do switch between point of views I believe— In Jennie’s POV reader is referred to as she/her/they, in your own POV it’s always you. But in short it’s because I’m too lazy to fix it. I’ve been writing this for awhile, enjoy! There’s also a second part that’s 3500+ words and unfinished, but I wanted to post this already…and I wanted to give you guys something while I’m finishing up one shots and chapters 😭 #lazyme

Jennie felt like a poor, unfortunate soul. Under her nose, it’s been decided she would fly out to see her mother. She didn’t know what possessed her father to agree, or what made him hide it from her till the day of her departure. Jennie felt betrayed almost. She felt like a piece of driftwood, trapped in a relentless storm where the sea pushed and pulled her as it liked, regardless of what she wanted. 

Jennie didn’t want to go to New Zealand, and that much was clear with the heated debate she was having with her father. She was never one to protest this adamantly, however, it was called for as it was the summer before her Senior year. 

“But Dad,” she said desperately. “Please, it’s my last year of highschool, I can’t leave when I’ve been at this school since the beginning— what about my friends? My job? My accomplishments? I don’t want to leave so suddenly.”

“That's completely understandable, but there’s something else, I know there is.” 

They stared at each other for a few tense seconds, and Jennie scowled.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” she quipped. “It’s because I don’t want to leave you alone here. I can’t! Not like mom did! I am not like her — I won’t be like her — and I don’t want to see her! Why now does she want to come back into my life? We were fine. I was fine on my own; and now? Now she wants me back right when I was content,” she huffed, tone on the verge of a growl. Tears swam in her eyes and her nose twitched. “I hate her—”

“Jennie! You will not go there.” Her father interrupted sternly, a deep frown on his face. Jennie flinched, gaze snapping to the floor. How her father still held her mother in the light made her distressed. She’d ask him ‘why’ and he would say ‘it’s love.’

Although his warning made her want to surrender, to give in and welcome the despair, Jennie still had some fight left in her. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, defiance shining in her eyes. A fire of resentment burning in her chest. “But you know what she did to us. I have every reason to loathe her.”

Us. 

Her father let out a drained sigh, running his hands down his face. He looked her straight in the eyes, and Jennie knew she was taxing him with this arguing, and she knew she could be in the wrong. But she didn’t want to accept that when it felt like she was right her whole life. She wanted it to stay that way. 

“Jennie, you don’t have to fight all my battles. What happened with me and your mother is a thing in the past,” he began, and Jennie felt hurt. “I have forgiven her and…”

“You forget.” Jennie snapped, unable to help herself. He ignored her.

“I forgave but I haven’t forgotten. Jennie, I have forgiven. You continue to live in the past, and that is why you light up about this topic. Back then…I regret involving you in so much of my problems, I should’ve shielded you from them. It’s only my fault you feel this way about her.” 

Jennie shook her head no. 

“Yes,” he said. In the past he was so absorbed in his grief he didn’t realize quickly enough that Jennie was beside him, feeding into his emotions, growing resentment for her mother when things were complicated back then. Jennie was stuck to an ‘us’ when it’s really just a ‘him.’ Jennie wasn’t left behind, and she was too young to understand that. Now she’s too old to want to understand.

“Well, I still don’t want to go,” she said stubbornly.

“Look, you’ve never had trouble making friends before, I’m confident you’ll be at the top of your class at any school, and you’ll have no trouble finding a job, so what is it? Besides your…issues with your mother.”

Well that’s just it, Jennie thought sarcastically. She didn’t want to see her mother. But most of all, she didn’t want to leave her father. He would be alone in this big, empty house. They had no pets. The maids only come every other two days and he rarely goes out as it is. 

Jennie looked around the room at the drawn ivory curtains, the small, black sofas, the mahogany desk with papers strewn about, and to the bed, where her father sat elevated. Beside him on the nightstand were pill containers with prescription medicine and drugs. Her father had countless health problems, thankfully none serious, but who would take care of him? He was a workaholic.

What if all the maids got simultaneously sick, and they couldn’t clean or take care of things her father couldn't? What if the chef decided to go tour five-star restaurants to further his own culinary skills and her father starved to death? (Not that he couldn’t cook for himself, but still.) What if he slipped down the steps and hurt himself? Her eyes watered, and she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth to stop it from trembling. 

Her father knew what was going through her head just from the way she was staring at him. “Oh, Jennie…” he murmured, and she ran to his side and threw her arms around him, wailing. 

“Dad,” she cried, voice watery and wavering. “I don’t want to leave youuuuahh.”

“It’ll only be for seven months, dear.” He said, stroking her brown hair.

“Seven months?” She snapped her head up, missing his chin by a few centimeters, tears brimming in her eyes. “That’s— That’s so long; that’s more than half a year!”

He chuckled. “It’ll go by quickly, and you can call me as much as you like. And if you’re really having trouble I’ll tell her to send you back.”

She sniffled, thinking it over. “…You promise?”

“I promise.”

Jennie sat up, rubbing her swollen eyes. “I haven’t packed my bags.” 

“The maids did it for you.”

“I haven’t quit my job yet.”

“Jennie, you work for me: the company.”

Jennie pursed her lips. “I haven’t told my friends. I can’t leave without telling them….face to face, they’ll think I’m dead.”

“You have two friends, and I’m sure they’ll be fine with a video call,” he reassured, raising a knowing brow. “Besides, you have plenty of time to do so.”

“Okay,” she said defeatedly. “When do I leave?”

…

Ladies and Gentlemen, Korean Air welcomes you to Auckland, New Zealand. The local time is 5:47AM. For your safety and of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisles clear until we are parked at the gate.

As a result of turbulence, Jennie had to peel her fingers off the arm rests one by one. She was glad her father booked her a seat with privacy because she didn’t need anyone to see her like this. She ignored the finger-shaped dips in the arm rests and looked out the oval-shaped window. The sun was just beginning to rise.

Jennie exited the plane with a yawn just as her phone dinged with a notification from her mother. She’s had her mom’s number all this time but she hasn’t used it to call or answer any of the texts she was sent for years. Jennie opened it reluctantly.

Mom: Jennie, I’m at the East gate, just outside it. I’ll see you soon.

She didn’t have to ask for any directions as her boarding gate was nearby. She walked with her carry-on luggage, a medium-sized suitcase with a minimum amount of clothes and items. She would have to buy more, she couldn’t travel with her whole closet.

Jennie was reaching the E-Gate, and outside the glass door was her mom, waving at her from the curbside and shouting her name as if the sign she was holding up wasn’t enough. Jennie blinked, feeling warmth spread across her face. Must she do that? She couldn’t bring herself to stand there and stare at her mother incredulously, it’d only delay things further, and she was tired. 

Jennie let out a long, depreciating sigh, gripped her suitcase’s handle so tight her knuckles turned white, and walked to her mother. The closer she got, the more butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The kind she’d rather not experience. Her mother was the carbon copy of herself, her father would say. She hated it. Jennie reached her.

“Mother,” Jennie greeted coldly.

Her mom sighed, her smile looking a little dimmer. “Hi, Jennie. I don’t even get a hug? A ‘Hello, I missed you?’” She joked, trying to make light of their situation. It wasn’t working. “You’re not happy to see me?” 

“No, not really.” Jennie answered. “I assume you feel the same?”

Not responding, her mom took Jennie’s bag and put it in the trunk of her car and they got in. Her mom pulled out of the parking space and began to drive. “I know that I’ve been a bad mom…and I’m sorry. I really am. And I know that’s not enough right now, but this summer I’ll try and make the most of it. I’m in the process of moving, so we’ll be going to that house. It’s a fresh start for both of us. You still like the ocean, don’t you? The house is by the ocean—“

“I’m tired.” Jennie interrupted. “Can we please talk later?”

Her mom gave a nod. “Yes, get some rest.” Jennie closed her eyes. 

When she opened them, a few hours had passed and it was brighter outside. She raised her hand in an attempt to block the sun. They were driving slowly down a street lined with houses. It was a pretty lively neighborhood, with lots of people and animals. There was a slight salty smell to the air from the ocean.

The car began to slow as it turned down a corner street, and Jennie kept an eye out, trying to guess which house her mom had bought. Her mom had a taste for a clean and modern look, so any house on the street could fit. But some houses had different designs, some more simple than others. Jennie was baffled when her mom passed the house she thought she would have picked and pulled into the driveway next to it. In the end it made sense since there was a moving truck parked on the curb. The house itself was white, a type of smoky brown, and gray, with two floors and a nice garage and porch, but the front yard was hideous. Horrendous. Horrifying. Heart-stopping?

It was extremely overgrown. Wildflowers and weeds sprouted from the tall grass and it grew somewhat over the sidewalk and touched the lower walls of the house. She wouldn't be surprised if there were a few snakes living there. It was an eyesore, really, almost like the previous owners didn’t care at all about the land. The house stuck out like a sore thumb among the mowed lawns on the street. 

They got out of the car, Jennie slower since she was still groggy from waking up. A tall man walked out of the house and waved at her mom. He was the help, Jennie guessed. But when they hugged each other she knew they might be friends or coworkers. “Tom, I want you to meet my daughter. This is Jennie.”

He turned to her, grinning with slightly crooked bottom teeth. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Tom. I’ll be helping you and your mom move everything in these next couple days.”

Jennie nodded at him. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Before her mom and Tom got into conversation, Jennie asked if she could explore the house. Her mom said she should find which room she wants.

Inside, just through the front door, there was a foyer room, and further there was an open space that was most likely going to be the living room. The kitchen was just across that, and it was a pretty big kitchen space, dark marble counters, stainless steel fridge, and other things. There was an entrance to the basement, and a hallway with a bathroom, two rooms, and one closet. She didn’t want a room on the ground floor. 

Jennie made her way upstairs to find which room she would claim. She didn’t need the largest one, but there had to be a medium-sized one. On the right of the top of the stairs there was a larger bedroom. She walked further down the hallway and entered a room on the left, because if she went any further down it would just be a bathroom, and decided she would take it. 

The room’s walls were painted a light gray, and it had two windows, allowing plenty of light to come through. It was sized perfectly and would fit her needs. There was still a twin-sized bed in the corner; hopefully Tom would move it out. Jennie turned in a circle, mentally planning out where she would have her things and how she would design. There was already a closet built in the room, so she wasn’t going to need any large dressers. She would make the room look different from the one at her father’s— fresh start, her mom had said.

Jennie made her way to the windows and pulled open the old curtains, fully expecting to see an overgrown yard with weeds and sticks hidden between the tall blades of grass, but that wasn't what she saw. The backyard was mowed, landscaped, and overall very nice compared to the front yard. But something was off, something was out of place. There was someone in her yard that was definitely not supposed to be there. Jennie pressed her face to the wire screen, scrutinizing the figure.

It was a girl, and she was sitting on a thick branch of the big tree in the middle of her backyard, sipping a juice box and swinging her legs childishly as if she had no care in the world. Eventually, the girl’s leg-swinging pace caused her to lose balance and fall backwards. She fell first on her neck and then flipped onto her back. Jennie winced. 

“That was so mean of you!” The girl yelled.

 She unmistakably said that to the tree.

“What the hell?” Jennie murmured, brows knitted. She watched the girl with something akin to frightful fascination as the girl scolded the tree, her hands moving wildly in the air. She climbed back onto the branch a moment later, and Jennie’s gaze shifted to the juice box lying forgotten in the grass. (Litter.)

Oh. Oh. There was a stranger in her yard.

Jennie promptly ran to the doorframe of her soon-to-be room, leaning forward. “Mom! There’s someone in our yard! Mom!” She waited, rolling her eyes when she didn’t receive an answer. Her mom must still be outside flirting with Tom. Jennie quickly ran back to the window to check if the strange girl was still there, and after confirming she was, ran down the stairs and out the house.

Outside, her mom was being handed a basket by Tom, and as Jennie got closer she saw it was filled with treats of sorts. Jennie stopped short of her mom. “Mom, someone is in our yard sitting on the tree.”

“That’s nice honey. Why don’t you bring these boxes to the kitchen for me?” Her mother answered distractedly and she frowned. She was still making goo-goo eyes at Tom— and probably wasn’t conscious of it. (Yuck.)

“No– ugh. You're not listening to me. I said there's a literal stranger in our yard.” She told her again, then remembering how yelled at the tree like it would verbally respond, she grumbled, “A real weirdo at that.”

Her mom raised a sharp brow. “Yeah? How about you give them some of Tom’s baked treats? Maybe you could make a friend,” she suggested, smiling as she opened Jennie’s palm and putting a small treat-filled baggy in her palm. Jennie stared at it, the silly characters on it smiling at her mockingly. She scoffed and turned on her heel, making her way back upstairs with the goodie bag still in hand. 

She flopped on the twin-bed mattress, coughing when a cloud of dust flew into the air. Jennie rolled onto her back and stared at the ugly, off-white popcorn ceiling. 

She didn’t want to have to make new friends. She never wanted to live here. She never wanted to leave her dad. Yet she didn’t have a choice. 

Jennie closed her eyes and sighed. She laid there for a good ten minutes before she decided she would go back downstairs and find something to do. Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was thousands of miles away from her family and friends. Downstairs, there were more boxes on the floor now, and Jennie groaned knowing she would have to help unpack. She found herself wandering to the kitchen, where the door to the backyard was. The strange girl was still there, staring past  the top of the fence at something.

Jennie sat on a stool, resting her cheek on her palm. She looked out the window at the girl, sulking. Numerous questions ran laps through her mind: Who was she? Why was she in the backyard? Does she go to her new school? Does she live around here?

“Hey, what are you looking at?” Jennie turned to see Tom was holding a stack of boxes. She could barely see his face. With a huff, he dropped them in the middle of the room before angling his head to the window. “Oh, I see you’ve met the neighbor’s daughter.”

“The neighbor's daughter?”

“Yeah. I think she lives next door. I heard the old owners of this house let her in their yard a lot. I heard their daughter and her were close.”

“You live around here?”

“You could say that,” he answered with a shrug. “Word travels fast in this neighborhood.” (Translation: Everyone is nosey.)

“Oh, okay.” Jennie replied. She doesn’t know if she should worry about seeing him around a lot or not. Tom walked back outside to get another round of boxes. Jennie left through the back door and could hear the strange girl now humming a song. 

“Excuse me!” She yelled as she approached the base of the tree.

The girl continued to sing and hum and swing her legs. “Hey!” She yelled louder.

The girl paused in her movements and sound-making, head lowering. “Oh, hello!”

“Yeah, hi. You can't, like, sit in a tree in your own backyard? Or in someone else’s yard?”

“But I like yours,” she responded.

“What?” Jennie said dumbly.

“You have such a nice tree,” she said. “Don’t you want to come up here?”

No she does not. She is not a monkey, or squirrel, or possum, or any animal that likes trees for that matter. “Who the hell are you?” Jennie demanded, moving her arms uselessly by her sides.

“(Y/n),” the girl responded easily, legs picking up their swinging again. 

“(Y/n),” Jennie repeated densely. “What the hell are you doing?”

You said nothing and began humming a song as you looked above the fence again.

“This is great—just fantastic.” Jennie muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “You mind getting away from my house, (Y/n)?”

You stopped and finally looked down at her. Jennie was momentarily stunned, she hadn’t expected you’d be so pretty. Even so…

“Your house?” You asked, tilting your head oddly. “You live here?”

Jennie fought, very bravely— might she add— the urge to slap her forehead. Did you not see or hear her come out of the back door? “Of course I d–”

“In a tree?” You asked with wondrous eyes, sounding awed. “Really?”

Jennie backpedaled. “No, what? Just, no, I–”

“I’ve never met someone who lives in a tree. Is it nice? Where do you put your head when you sleep? Do the animals tell you bedtime stories?”

“I don’t live in a tree! I live in that house,” Jennie told her, pointing to her house when she shouldn’t need to. 

“Oh,” You said, seemingly disappointed. (Jennie didn’t care.)

“Yeah. So are you going to be leaving soon?”

“Am I going to be leaving soon?” You repeated like a parrot.

“Yes, are you?”

“Am I?” You asked again.

Jennie sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. This was going absolutely nowhere. “Why are you just repeating…nevermind. I don’t have time for this. Goodbye.” Jennie said, turning on her heel to walk back inside. 

“Bye! It was nice to meet you!” You shouted after her, grinning. 

What a complete weirdo, Jennie thought, slamming the screen door shut behind her. She walked through the kitchen, intending to go back to her room and entertain herself with her phone, when she noticed her mom at the front door saying goodbyes to Tom. Jennie realized there were a lot more boxes sitting around now. 

The door shut and her mom turned around, eyeing the cluttered floor. “I guess we should start unpacking,” she murmured, hands on her hips. She looked at Jennie, seemingly hesitant. “You can rest if you’re tired, Tom managed to get the couches inside. They’re comfortable,” she offered. 

Jennie found herself shaking her head no. “I’ll help. It's a…” she yawned. “A lot of boxes.” 

Her mother raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, kneeling to open the first box in front of her. “I assume where Tom put the boxes is what room the things inside go in?”

“Yes, but don’t open the ones with green tape, I have to buy furniture for them tomorrow.”

So, in a slightly awkward silence, they unpacked the boxes, placing items in their respective places. Hours passed, and the sun sunk into the ocean and the moon emerged— as did the creatures of the night. The tree leaves blew with the wind and the ocean lapped the shore, a peaceful sound. 

Jennie was currently in the kitchen, organizing the plates and bowls into cabinets when she looked out the curtainless window to the backyard. It was pitch black save for the nightlights, and the strange girl was gone. 

“Jennie, why don’t you finish up there and we’ll call it a night,” her mom called from down the hall in the bathroom.

“Okay,” she responded distractedly. 

The juice box was tucked in a hole in the tree. 

…

Jennie was woken by gentle shaking of her shoulder. She blinked groggily, sitting up slightly. The face of her mom came into view. “What time is it?”

“12:26pm,” her mom told her.

Jennie yawned. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

“I figured you were jetlagged. And you’re probably hungry, so I ordered brunch.”

Jennie ate her french toast, listening to her mom tell her what the plan of the day was. They were to go grocery shopping to fill up the empty fridge,  to IKEA to buy some more furniture, and Jennie would have some time to walk around the neighborhood before sunset.

After she ate, Jennie went upstairs and dug through her suitcase's options and was surprised. The maids really did know what she liked, and she found it hard to pick an outfit since all of them were good. Finally settling on baggy blue jeans and a cropped, beige camisole with a matching jacket, she slipped into white flats and grabbed her wallet before heading downstairs. Her mother was already dressed and seated on the ivory couches scrolling on her phone, waiting. 

She looked up when Jennie approached. “You look nice. Ready to go?” she asked, standing. Jennie nodded at her and they walked out the door together. 

Jennie was in a particularly good mood after having food in her stomach until her mom brought up school in the car ride to the grocery store. The topic soured Jennie's mood considerably. She had hoped they would avoid any discussion about it till (at the latest— a stretch, really) the night before her first day of school. The idea of going to another school hadn't quite seeped in yet. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” her mother tried, glancing at Jennie before returning her eyes to the road. “I’ve heard great things about the highschool from Tom; his friend’s son goes there.”

Tom, again. Tom this, Tom that, Tom said this, Tom did that.  “Speaking of Tom, what’s going on between you two?” Jennie pried. Did her mom think she didn’t notice the subtle flirting and touches they had as they were unpacking? Something was going on, and she was going to find out.

A mask of indifference settled on her mom’s face. “Nothing. And don’t change the topic. You never know, you might love the school.” 

Jennie rested her forehead on the window, watching the outside speed past. “We’ll see,” she whispered. 

Shopping for groceries went by relatively quickly, and they were on the way to IKEA in less than two hours. At IKEA, they ended up purchasing two tables, a TV stand, shelves, bed frames, and some rugs. Most of it will be delivered to their house from tomorrow to the next few days.

When Jennie got home, she changed into black biker shorts and a lightweight, baby blue hoodie due to the temperature rising quite a bit. She decided she would walk around the neighborhood. 

“I’m going on a walk!” She yelled, sliding her shoes back on. 

“Is your phone charged?” Her mom’s head peeked out from the kitchen, brow raised in question. 

“76%,” she responded, waving her phone in the air. 

“Okay, don’t go too far and get lost, and be back by…let’s say six.”

Jennie was out the door shortly. She paused at the end of the driveway, her thoughts conflicted on whether to go in the left or right direction. (She chose left.) Mid-afternoon, the neighborhood was infested with crawling newborns on lawn blankets and buzzing families. It was a cosmopolitan melting plot, inclusive and close-knit all at once. She felt slightly overwhelmed. 

It didn’t go past her that she was on the receiving end of curious onlookers. Did she stand out that much? Nonetheless, she ignored them. 

She mentally noted there was an ice cream shop further down the street she walked, right next to the park. Jennie made her way across the street to another block of the neighborhood, and it was obvious the people living on this street were more well off. The houses were practically mini mansions, and their lawns fenced in.

Jennie heard a shout from behind. “Hey!…Hey, wait up!” 

Jennie glanced behind her and quickly snapped her head back forward. Jogging up to her was (Y/n) again— the tree girl— waving her hand in the air wildly as she willed Jennie to slow her pace. With a groan, she slid the hood over her head and pulled the strings so tight she cut off her air supply till she relented. She began to gradually speed up her pace, almost breaking into a jog. You don’t know me. Go away. The footsteps got closer and Jennie eventually gave up, walking normally again. 

Panting, the girl fell in step with Jennie. “You walk so fast!” You wheezed. Jennie fought back a devilish smile. 

You were wearing something similar to Jennie, except you had on a jacket instead of a hoodie. You had stickers all over your face, however, and Jennie felt slightly offended, being a sticker collector and all. That’s not how you use stickers! 

“How’d you know it was me?” She asked.

“That’s easy; it’s like you have a big target on your back,” you laughed, poking her back to emphasize your point. 

She slapped your hands away. “A target on my back?” Jennie murmured, face scrunched in confusion.

“You’re new, is what I mean, like a shiny new toy.” You elaborated, hands moving animatedly. Then, your voice falled to a low murmur. “Everyone more or less knows each other here.”

“And that’s a good thing? You don’t sound happy about that at all.” 

With the absence of your answer she noticed the weight of snoopy eyes had dissipated since you came, they were no longer burning holes through her. She also noted that the surroundings were quieter, like some of those outside moved to their backyards or went inside. She didn’t dwell on why. 

“So…” You dragged out. “What made you move here?”

“Oh, I’m just visiting for a couple months.”  

“Visiting relatives?”

“Just my mom.”

A sign that had the image of a wave and underneath, directions to the dock was coming closer. The salty smell of the ocean was also more prominent. 

You hummed. “Do you like pengui—” You paused. 

“Do I like what?”

She stopped walking after noticing you had stopped before the sign. “What is it?”

You fidgeted in place. “I can’t go that far.”

“Why?”

You looked nervous— and Jennie thought it was a strange look on you. “I’m forbidden, they don’t want me to find the treasure… they want it for themselves.” 

“Huh?” 

You smiled so bright Jennie had to squint. “Did you know penguins poop every twenty minutes?”

What in the world?

Jennie’s face scrunched up. She was feeling lightheaded from the way you talked. Her head was spinning in circles. Everything you said was completely random— nothing connected. 

She ultimately decided you weren’t worth the headache and continued walking forward. Like she thought, you stayed rooted to your spot, a pout making the corners of your lips fall. 

Before she turned to enter the gate that was a part of the metal fence around the shoreline, separating homes from the sand, she heard you tell her to wave at the ocean for you.  

Good grief.

…

It’s been a few days since Jennie had an encounter with (Y/n), and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t somewhat curious as to where she was. She refused to dwell on the idea that she missed the loudness that came with her. She didn’t. Why would she? She likes quiet. The peace and calm—

At the sound of loud singing, Jennie practically fell off her bed and scurried to the open window. (Leaving it open is a habit of hers now). Her eyes widened. You were sitting in the tree again, a regular pastime for you apparently, another juice box crushed in your hand. This time, however, you had brought three pillows, and she watched as you threw them down at the base of the tree. 

Safety measures in case you fell again?

She found herself throwing on some sweats and leaving her room. 

From the base of the tree, you blinked down at her, your hair falling around you. Then, comically, you waved wildly at her. “Hi, you!” 

“Hello… You’re looking at the ocean again?” She wondered why you seemed so entranced by it, why you looked at it with such wonder. It was just water. She wondered why she even bothered talking to you; wasn’t she trying to distance herself?

“Yes! Want to see?” 

“I don’t know, I’m good down here. I’m not good at climbing,” she shook her head, recalling the time she injured her ankle after an attempt to climb a tree after her cousin. 

“You’ll be fine! I’ll help you,” you hopped off the branch, landing on the ground next to her. “I’ll be down here to catch you if you fall.”

Jennie bit her lip and looked to the side, imagining the pain she’d go through if she fell. “But…”

“But- you’ll be just fine! C’mon, start climbing up. You can use that wedge there…”

Sitting in the tree, Jennie wondered how she let you coerce her into doing it. The view was pretty nice though. Clear waters stretched out, white sand, and the sun. 

“See, I knew you could do it,” you said when you sat next to her. Jennie merely hummed. You shuffled about before your face brightened up. You turned to her, eyes practically sparkling. “Hey, did you know that…” 

Hey. You. Hey, you. It’s then when she realized you’ve never called her by her name. It was always “you” or “hey” in place of her name. 

Jennie tilted her head at you, cutting your fun fact off. “Wait, do you even know my name?”

You paused, and it was clear you were searching through your (possibly glitter infested) mind for it. The effort was clear on your face and Jennie let out a quiet scoff, a sign of her amusement. She knocked your shoe with her own. “It’s Jennie.”

You gasped. “I totally knew that, you didn’t let me remember.”

“Sure.” Ignoring your pout, she carefully climbed down the tree. “Make sure you don’t forget it.”

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

For the mermaid ask can you do 1+6+8 you write really cool stuff 💕

Hi Ha-Ha Whump! Thanks so much for the kind words! Sure I can write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go! P.S. I know mermay is long over but hey, it's still summer over here! And mermaids are relevant all year long in my opinion! Thanks for your patience while I got around to this!

From this ask game

The waves lapped at the shoreline like a mother pulling a blanket up to her child’s chin. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the sky with a pink and orange hue. Bits of wood and metal littered the beach, coated in salt and sand.

Caretaker picked their way through the wreckage, looking for any survivors. They had the lighthouse beacon on all night, but some poor ship had managed to get dashed on the rocks all the same. Upon seeing the ripped, black flag with the skull and crossbones amongst the driftwood, Caretaker realized that this might not have been a bad thing.

A splash made Caretaker whip their head around. Something was writhing in the sunken ship’s net. A pirate? A pirate’s prisoner? Regardless, they were a survivor, and Caretaker hoped to keep it that way. They rushed over to the spot, untangling the person trapped inside. They were so entangled that only their upper half was remotely visible.

They looked up at Caretaker with fearful eyes. Their long hair clung to their face and torso, dirtied with sand. Red welts littered their pale body. A pirate’s prisoner then.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “you’re lucky to be alive. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

The person didn’t speak, just gave a tiny nod. Caretaker started working on their lower half, and gasped when the net fell away to reveal a shimmering fish’s tail.

So more than a pirate’s prisoner- a pirate’s trophy, a pirate’s pet; a captured mer. Now that Caretaker took a closer look, those freckles on the person’s face looked more like little blue scales. Those scars on their neck? Gills. And hidden behind their curtain of hair were webbed ears.

“Are you going to hurt me?” The mer asked as if they knew the answer already.

“Wha- no, of course not,” Caretaker said, eliciting a look of surprise from the mer, “I said I was going to take care of you.”

Now that the creature was free, Caretaker could get a better look at their lower half. Their tail was littered with cuts and was missing scales in various patches. There was no way they’d be able to swim with it. It was decided then.

“My name is Caretaker,” they started slowly, “I’m going to pick you up now if that’s okay.”

“P-please don’t,” the mer said, shrinking back.

“But you’ll die if I leave you out here on your own,” Caretaker reasoned, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to help.”

The mer thought it over for a long moment. They looked up at Caretaker and nodded. Caretaker smiled in a way they hoped was calming. They scooped the mer up in a bridal carry.

“..umpee,” the mer mumbled.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Whumpee,” the mer repeated, a little more audibly, “my name is Whumpee.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, “I’m gonna get you all fixed up, okay?”

Caretaker began the walk from the beach to their lighthouse near the cliffs. They had no idea how to take care of a mer, but darn it, they were going to try.

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[artemis-entreri]

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Easter Eggs (Part 2)

[[ Part 1 can be found by clicking this link.

Deep in the Crevices

You've really got to search for these:

Mordenkainen: Yes, him again! Those are the three circles of his two-bladed sword on the Mordenkainen's arcane seal on the Castle Never vault. What's more, those same three circles appear on the front of the helmet of disjunction—which casts Mordenkainen's disjunction.

The spear of Aoth Fezim: Who? The Thayan warmage involved in the War of the Zulkirs during Szass Tam's takeover of Thay in the The Haunted Lands and Brotherhood of the Griffon series of novels by Richard Lee Byers from 2007 to 2013.

Trip and Shuffle: Introduced in A Reader's Guide to R. A. Salvatore's the Legend of Drizzt, marked only on maps since then. Only named on the Monopoly board.

Driftwood Tavern: From Neverwinter Campaign Setting and Drizzly novels. Only named on the Monopoly board and cast list. I don't even recall this in the movie.

The Citadel: Too dark to be sure, but the tower in Thay may be Szass Tam's base of operations.

Holga's darksteel greataxe: Made from darksteel and functioning roughly as last detailed in Magic of Faerûn and Volo's Guide to All Things Magical. This was forged by Ghelryn Foehammer of Targos, who appeared in 2e and 5e.

Loudwater: The thieves robbed Jolym of Jolym's Barrels & Packing in Loudwater, which was only mentioned in Volo's Guide to the North, 1993.

Zulkir Dmitra Flass: a 1300s Red Wizard of Thay, a non-speaking role and named only in the cast list.

Din Caldwell, of the Caldwell family of Baldur's Gate, named only in the cast list.

Porb Piiradost, of the Piiradost family of Waterdeep (not seen since 2nd edition), named only in the cast list.

Lord Nasher Alagondar: That's his giant statue outside the Neverwinter arena.

Lord Halueth Never: So possibly that's his giant statue next to Nasher's

The Gray Hands, just mentioned in the Neverwinter arena.

A portrait of Volothamp Geddarm in instrument to the heist.

How in the Hells Did You Find This?

The most obscure, the deepest cuts:

Pendant of invisibility: Kira's magic item. Most likely a coincidence as it wasn't on the wiki before, but it matches perfectly with a magic item of the same name in the back of Dungeon #112 in 2004.

The flashback of Szass Tam's spell and takeover of Thay appears to be a quick fictionalized summation of the events of The Crimson Gold and Unclean as well as the next century of Thayan history and descent into a necromancer's realm. Presumably this is set circa 1375 before Szass's coup and the Thayan civil war in the latter book.

Szass Tam's beckoning death spell for creating mass numbers of undead follows exactly the supposedly false story of "the spell of Undeath" that the would-be Harper King Rundorl Moonsklan and duped ally of Szass Tam spread in the early 1200s DR, as detailed in The Code of the Harpers by Ed Greenwood in 1993.

Whether or not it can be seen in the final cut of the film, thanks to an old photo from the set of the Triboar playhouse, we know there are images depicting the three boars for which the town was named as well as a shirtless man we assume to be Gwaeron Windstrom (given that god's relevance to the town).

Scenes of Lord Halueth Never and the early history of Neverwinter appear on the walls of Forge's office.

Wild Realmslore Theorizing

Insert meme of madman in front of conspiracy board here.

In Thay, it's "the eve of the solstice" and a few people are carrying red-and-yellow sun symbols. Amaunator the sun god has the summer solstice as his holy day and a sun holy symbol, particularly this one. While newly revived in 1374 DR and his association with Thay is unknown, it is plausible.

Daurgothoth moved into Dolblunde in the Year of Beckoning Death, 1253 DR, which has the same name as the Szass Tam's spell. Daurgothoth, the Creeping Doom, a dracolich, is also conspicuously absent from Dolblunde, while that necromantic spell for creating undead pours forth from something that looks like it just might be part of a dragon's horn.

We don't know officially what type of undead to classify Dralas and the other victims of Tam's beckoning death, however we note that they seem like perhaps a cross between the living Thayan knights and the unliving dread warriors (a favorite and original creation of Tam's).

----------------------------------------------------

Once again, credit for these finds goes to BadCatMan and the Forgotten Realms Wiki.

Once the movie hits streaming services, I’ll do an updated version of this post with movie screencaps to make it a more thorough visual guide. ]]

[aurorabayrpg]

EVENT 016 {OCTOBER 1ST - NOVEMBER 1ST} AURORA BAY’S HALLOWEEN FESTIVITIES - PART 1 & 2

Summer has come and gone, the temperatures are cooling, and pumpkin spice is in everything! It’s finally time for one of Aurora Bay’s biggest events thrown by Town Hall, Aurora Bay’s Halloween Festival!

For the last couple weeks in town, residents will have noticed that the town has slowly been putting up their fall decorations, with pumpkins taking their places at front door steps, paper ghosts in the windows, and even a few scarecrows around the square!

There will be plenty of family-friendly fun, but perhaps the most anticipated part of the festival will be the Halloween costume party held at Sharky's, our Monster Mash! Once again there will be a costume contest with plenty of prizes! More info will come later in the month.

OOC INFO BELOW:

Here's our next event, and just like last year, it'll be running all month long to give everyone plenty of time to plot and play with some Halloween scares!

Here's a list of some of just some of the things you'll find in town this year: (*If you'd like your shop to have anything special going on this month, please let us know so we can add it to the list!)

Botanical Gardens:

Corn Maze running daily (after 8pm it becomes haunted!)

Halloween lights and inflatables all around for a nightly lit-up walking trail

Food stands with kettle corn, caramel apples, etc.

Aurora Bay's Art Museum:

Running all month long, a special spooky art exhibit featuring unsettling works, haunted artifacts, and macabre paintings all while reading up on stories of famous artists throughout time that met gruesome (and oftentimes untimely) deaths.

Charles Levin Theater:

Join us all month long for the Theatre's production of The Phantom of the Opera. Keep your eyes up on the chandelier!

Sunrise Winery:

hard cider and mulled wine tastings

a pick-your-own pumpkin patch

pumpkin carving and painting stations

Sunset Drive-In:

Every weekend Sunset Drive-in will be showing Halloween movies, ranging from movies for children all the way to those super scary movies for the adults! Movie schedule will be posted around town for everyone to plan their movie nights!

Around town:

Hayrides (nighttime haunted rides running Friday thru Sunday evenings)

Specialty menus at shops like Sweet Nothings and Driftwood Coffee

Fall styles and Halloween costume items at Sea Glass Boutique and Hidden Gems Thrift Store

A haunted house open nightly- enter if you dare!

Pop-up candy spots all around town for an early trick-or-treat all month long!

and new this year, an Aurora Bay Haunted Tour!

Every evening, join a walking tour through places said to be haunted in town including the All-Nighter Diner, Aurora Bay's Lighthouse, and then to the docks to hear scary tales of merfolk that are said to reside just below Aurora Bay's waters.

Read about what you’ll learn on the haunted tour HERE

Neighborhoods:

Trick-or-treating will obviously take place on Halloween night, so make sure you have plenty of candy for all the little gremlins of our little beach town!

Halloween decorations on the lawns and houses of anyone wanting to participate (feel free to make posts of what those decorations look like and tag our aesthetics blog!)

Part Two:

Sharky's Monster Mash:

Sharky's will once again be holding their annual Halloween party, The Monster Mash! This will be part 2 of the event, so we'll let you know when it's time to post costumes and threads for this one!

Please feel free to make posts of your character's Halloween costumes and tag our aesthetic blog as well as tag it as #ab.halloween , as well as put your character's name and the name of who they're dressed as in the description! And if you're doing a couple's costume, make sure you tag your partner in there as well! This helps us admins keep up with everything!

Like last year, we'll reblog all the costumes to our aesthetics page and we'll make a masterlist of them all where muns can vote for their fave costumes!

Categories will be: best costume, best couples costume, funniest costume, sexiest costume, most creative costume!

A second post will be made for this part of the event, giving all the dates and more info on the party!

RULES: (this will be expanded on during part 2!)

Players do not have to participate in Sharky's Halloween party, decorating houses, or dressing up if they do not wish to!

Per usual, the first 5 open starters may be posted without muns replying to others first, but if open starters have plenty of notes or you've already replied to them, feel free to go ahead and post another!

[iboatedhere]

from that summer prompts list! an spending the whole day at the beach au would be really nice i think :))

Day 1

The screen door rattles as it slams shut behind him, and Alex drops his suitcase onto the worn hardwood floors. 

The cottage is small but beautiful. A little stuffy and warm, but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed by opening the windows and letting the cool ocean breeze in. 

He leaves his belongings behind and does a quick sweep of the kitchen. The basics are there, just as the AirBnB host said. Salt, pepper, oil, sugar. A box of tea and a canister of coffee. Prepackaged snacks on display on the counter. There are water bottles in the fridge and a box of baking soda. He’ll need to go to the market in town and stock up on produce, dairy, and good coffee, but it’s fine. It’s nice.

From the photos online, he knows the bedroom and bathroom are down the hall to his left, along with a small linen closet with extra sheets, blankets, and pillows. There’s a door that leads to the basement where the washer and dryer are kept and the hot water heater, which he might need to reset if the power goes out during his stay. 

The living room is basic but homey. A couch and two armchairs, each a little frayed at the edges, are set around a wide driftwood coffee table with stacks of board games underneath. No TV. Spotty WiFi. Perfect.

He steps out the sliding glass doors onto the small deck overlooking the beach. It’s early summer, and kids are still in school, so the beach is quiet and barren. It's just a little lonely, but it's relatable. 

He shakes his head, physically knocking the dreary thought from his brain. This isn’t what this vacation is about. So what if his boyfriend of nearly a year revealed that he’d been cheating on him for the last six months two days before the trip, and so what if both the flight and the booking were non-refundable. So what if he had to dip into his savings to pay for this. It’s better to learn that Peter is a heartless douchebag now than five years down the line when Alex is pushing thirty and thinking about marriage and kids and forever. So what if it’s brought up the same feelings of abandonment and inadequacy he’s shoved deep down inside of himself since his parents divorced. It’s okay. 

This week is about self-reflection and discovery. He’s going to learn how to be alone and be okay with it. He doesn’t need a partner to be happy. 

Alex leans forward on the railing and watches the waves crash against the shore until a man coming up the boardwalk catches his attention. 

He’s tall and blond; his blue linen shirt is loose across his shoulders and flutters around his body in the wind. He stops halfway, his shoes in his hand, and turns back toward the beach to whistle. A beagle hops onto the path beside him a moment later, shaking the water from his fur and making the man laugh. 

It’s a nice sound. 

The man and his dog continue up the boardwalk and into the house next door to Alex’s rented cottage. He towels off the dog and wipes his own feet on the mat before disappearing inside. 

Interesting. 

Day 2

The town market is small and overpriced, but Alex is able to get almost everything he needs, minus the coffee. 

Fortunately, the market is next to a cafe selling their beans by the pound. Alex buys two bags and a cherry turnover and learns that there's a farmer’s market in the church parking lot on Sundays. 

On his way out, he spots his neighbor sitting on the patio, a book in his hand, a cup of tea on the table in front of him, and the beagle at his feet.

When Alex passes, the dog lifts its head and wags its tail. Alex wants to stop and ask the man if he can say hello, but his hands are full of groceries and coffee, and the odds of dropping everything and embarrassing himself are too great. 

He keeps walking and regrets not stopping the whole way home.

Day 3

Alex spends the whole day at the beach. 

He packs a cooler with sandwiches, fruit, and beer and hauls one of the folding chairs provided by the host down to the water. 

It’s overcast when he gets down there, but by noon, the sun is high and hot, and he slathers on another layer of sunscreen before he reclines the chair and takes a nap. 

When he wakes up, his neighbor has joined him, sitting an acceptable distance away and a bit too close, considering he has almost the entire beach. 

Alex’s first instinct is to be annoyed because what the fuck, but then his neighbor looks over the top of the book he’s reading and makes eye contact with Alex, then looks away quickly, like he’s been caught. 

Interesting. 

Alex stands up and stretches his arms over his head before pulling his tank top over his head and dropping it to the chair. 

He feels his neighbor’s eyes on him the entire way to the water, where he jumps in without hesitation. When he surfaces, his neighbor is watching him again. This time, he doesn’t look away. 

Day 4

“Bone! You need to bone!”

Alex rolls his eyes at Nora’s voice in the background of the call. 

“We're not going to bone,” Alex says. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Maybe you could ask him,” June supplies helpfully. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“To know his name?”

“To bone,” Nora says, sounding closer to the phone. “Alex, your piece of shit ex cheated on you. You’re legally required to sleep with someone else. You should know that. You’re a lawyer.”

“I’m a paralegal.”

“Same diff.”

“Definitely not.”

“You did say he was good-looking,” June says, getting the conversation back on track, and Alex hums as he looks out the back door. 

From this angle, he can see his neighbor on his deck, where he’s been fiddling with his grill for the last twenty minutes. 

“He is,” Alex agrees, looking over his long legs and broad shoulders. “He can’t work a grill, though. What the fuck is he doing?”

“Go help him!” Nora chimes in. “You two can eat dinner, and then he can eat you—” 

Alex hangs up and opens the door, then steps over to the far side of the deck, closest to his neighbor, who is tapping the gauge of the propane tank.

“I think it might be empty.”

His neighbor’s head snaps up. “Pardon?”

“The tank. If you can’t get it to light, you’re probably out of propane.”

“Oh,” he says as he looks down at the tank. “How do I fix that?”

“Get the tank refilled.”

“And where do I do that?”

“At this time of night, nowhere.”

Those broad shoulders fall. “Oh.”

“You can come over and use mine,” Alex yells over. “The host said it was full.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

His neighbor looks down at his dog at his feet. 

“You can bring—,” Alex starts, and his neighbor interrupts. 

“David.”

“Your name is David?”

“No, I’m Henry,” he says before he gestures down to the dog. “His name is David.”

“Okay….well….you can both come over. This place is listed as pet friendly.” 

Henry looks down at David, then at the grill, then over at Alex. 

“I’ll be over,” Henry calls. 

Alex nods. “I’ll be here.” 

Day 5 

“You know, you never told me what your friend does to afford a beach house.”

“Oh,” Henry says as he picks up a pint of strawberries. “It’s hard to pin Pez down. I suppose he does a bit of everything.”

Alex nods as Henry pays for the berries, and they continue their loop around the farmer’s market. 

Dinner last night was fine. Henry seemed nervous the entire time, but Alex can’t honestly say that he was playing it cool. 

It’s like they both knew mutual attraction was simmering beneath the surface, but neither knew what to do about it. Maybe Henry is just shy, and maybe Alex is a little out of practice after spending nearly a year of his life in a dead-end relationship. 

He did learn that Henry was a copy editor who could work from practically anywhere. He has a sister who might join him next month and a brother who thinks what he does for a living is pointless. 

Alex kind of hates his brother, but he likes the way Henry smiles when he talks about his sister and friend.

“You never told me why you’re here alone,” Henry says, and Alex shrugs.

“You’re here alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have David.”

“Okay, point, but do I have to have a reason? Is it a crime for someone to vacation alone?”

“Certainly not, but….”

“But,” Alex starts with a heavy sigh. “I was supposed to come with my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Henry says, sounding disappointed.

“Ex-boyfriend now,” Alex explains. “Turns out he was cheating on me, and all the reservations were non-refundable, so…here I am. Alone.”

Henry knocks their shoulders together with a soft smile. “Maybe not so alone.”

Day 6

The power goes out at exactly 11:59 at night.

“Fuck,” Alex swears up at the ceiling while rain and wind pound against the windows and lightning flashes outside. “Fuck.”

He knows he’s lucky that it stayed on for this long. While he’s no stranger to storms (everything is bigger in Texas), the constant weather alerts and warnings that pop up on his phone, combined with how close the house is to the beach, are making him nervous. 

He could leave, get in the rental car, and go, but when he sits up in bed and looks out the window, he can see the lights on at Henry’s place. 

Of course, Henry’s rich friend would have a generator. Of course, Alex can’t leave without him. 

Alex puts on his sneakers and makes a run for it, skidding onto Henry’s front porch and banging on the door, hoping he’s heard over the rolling thunder.

He hears David bark, then quick footsteps, and suddenly, the door opens, and Henry appears through the screen. 

“The power went out,” Alex says with a thumb hooked over his shoulder. “And I don’t know where the candles are in the house, and I’m trying not to freak out–.”

“Are you bloody mad,” Henry interrupts as he opens the screen door and yanks him into the house. “You could have been struck by lightning.”

“I’m a pretty fast runner.”

“Fast enough to dodge lightning?”

“I made it, didn’t I?”

“I suppose,” Henry says. “Now, wait here.”

Henry disappears down the hall while Alex drips over the hardwood. 

“Should we be worried?” Alex calls after him after a particularly loud clap of thunder. “I’m always seeing ocean homes swept into the sea on the news.” 

“Pez said this place has never flooded.”

“Okay, but climate change is getting worse. Just because it didn't happen last season doesn't mean it won’t happen this season.”

“I don’t think we need to worry,” Henry says when he returns, a towel in one hand and a change of clothes in the other. “But I understand why you are.”

Alex takes the towel and the clothes but doesn’t move from his spot by the front door. He’s not sure what to do with the clothes or with Henry, dressed in sweatpants and the softest-looking t-shirt he’s ever seen. Pillow marks across his cheek and his hair mussed with sleep. 

Alex is leaving in a few days, gone forever, and he doesn’t know how he’ll handle losing someone he’s never even touched.

“I’m going to make tea,” Henry tells him as he moves into the kitchen. “I’m thinking chamomile. Would you like some?”

“Later, maybe,” Alex says as he sets the clothes down on the kitchen table and crowds into Henry’s space. “Is this okay?” He asks as he slowly brings his hands up to cup Henry’s face. 

“Oh,” Henry says, expression falling softly as he nods. 

Day 7 

The storm is over by morning. 

Alex wakes to the sun in his eyes, David curled up at his feet, and Henry’s arm draped over his waist.

“Baby,” Alex whispers, his lips brushing across Henry’s forehead. “We should get up.”

Henry’s face scrunches as he tightens his grip on Alex. “Ten more minutes. Or forever.” 

Alex smiles. 

Forever sounds nice.

Day 371

Alex wakes to the smell of coffee and lips pressed to his cheek. 

He reaches out blindly, smiling when his hand catches the hem of Henry’s shirt. 

“Happy anniversary, love,” Henry whispers, and Alex rolls over and opens his eyes. “I got you a coffee and a turnover from the place in town.”

“You’re up early,” Alex says as he sits up and takes the coffee and the bag from Henry. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I could,” Henry says as he sits down beside him. “I wanted to make sure I got to the coffee shop before they were out of the cherry turnovers.”

“I would’ve gone with you.”

“You seemed pretty tired,” Henry says smugly. “I thought it was best to let you sleep.”

Alex hums and takes a sip. “I’ll repay the favor tonight.”

“Looking forward to it. Until then, plans for the day?”

They could do anything. Head down to the beach or take a drive up the coast. Get lost in a coastal bookshop or an antique store for hours. 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. 

All that matters is that they’re together. 

[toyotaoforlando]

Best U.S. beaches to check out this summer for your road trip

Are you starting to think about your next summer road trip as the warm weather rolls in? You're not alone - school is almost done for the year and people are ready to hit the highway. Our Orlando Toyota dealership is here with a list of the best East Coast beaches to check out this summer on your next road trip - start packing!

Beach #1: Destin

Destin is in the panhandle of Florida and offers you white sugar sand, clear blue-green water, and a party atmosphere during spring break. But it has a lot more to offer than that - you'll also find great fishing, a sandbar to relax on, and more. Don't forget your fishing pole on this road trip!

Beach #2: Naples

Naples is another Florida beach that's located in South Florida. It overlooks the warm, calm Gulf of Mexico. On top of the beautiful beaches, there's high-end dining, boutique hotels, shopping, kayaking, paddle boarding, fishing, and more to consider. Don't miss the sunsets over the Gulf.

Beach #3: The Golden Isles

The Golden Isles are composed of four different barrier islands - Jekyll, St. Simon's, Little St. Simon's, and Sea. Jekyll Island features the iconic Driftwood Beach where enormous driftwood pieces have washed up on the beach and make an Instagram-worthy spot for photos. These beaches are also renowned for long, empty stretches perfect for walking, running, and biking, so add them to your road trip list.

Beach #4: Sanibel Island

Sanibel Island is another Florida beach that's a quiet, family-friendly spot to unwind. It's famous for shelling, and also has nature trails, hiking, swimming spots, and picnic spots.

Ready to hit the highway for your road trip? Toyota of Orlando wants to make it happen. Call us today and let our Toyota service center get you prepped! We're open seven days a week at (407) 298-0001

[wandam-history-of-the-decades]

1327 - Revenge

Stone Family - England

The year had just begun when Clementia announced her pregnancy to her family. She kept working at the farm, especially collecting flowers and improving her flower arranging skill.

And just like that, Athelyna Stone was born and she was a really healthy baby :)

That year, Leonard aged up into a child and start helping his family, especially with the animals that he loved.

Ellen also aged up into a toddler. Soon it became clear that she was the female version of his father, and also the closest to him.

By the end of the year, Athelyna aged up into an infant and she was just like Clarice Carpenter, her grandmother, but with his father skintone. Clementia was really happy about the fact that one of her children resembled her mother.

Driftwood Family - Ireland

Martha and Elias Driftwood aged up into teens that year.

Both were gorgeous and soon, Elias told his family that his dream was to become a priest and live in a monastery where he can help raising the children that had lost their parents. The whole family support him and said goodbye to him :'(

Martha and Elias promised each other to keep nourish their relationship and stay as close as always.

Driftwood Family (Tome's side) - Ireland

The family were really happy with their two boys, and Fergus were growing stronger every day. Sadly, one summer day the little one suffered a heatstroke and couldn't recover. He died hours later...

Bucket Family - Germany

One day, Sophie and her daugther Veronica were at the market when she noticed she was going into labour.

Both of them hurried up and came home, where Sophie had a baby boy called Bastian Bucket. Both of them were perfectly healthy :)

Zymmer Family - Germany

TW: murder and domestic violence

After nights and nights of abuse, Margrite Zymmer were hitting rock bottom and couldn't handle it anymore.

One night, she decided that enough was enough and made Rasmus a poisoned pie for dinner. He wasn't suspicious of anything and ate the whole thing.

Later that night, he woke up chocking and died a few moments later.

Finally, Margrite was free and she could raise her daughter in a safe home. Even the Grim Reaper seemed happy about them <3

Margrite focus on improving her magic and she trained a lot with her girlfriend Gemma. She wanted to became a really powerful witch so she will teach and train Erika when she ages up.

García Family - Spain

Back in Spain, Juan García aged up into a healthy infant :). He resembled his mother so much and she was a really calm baby. Alberto and Ermel were over the moon with him.

Births [2]

ENGLAND

Athelyna Stone: 1327 -

GERMANY

Bastian Bucket: 1327 -

Birthdays [6]

ENGLAND

Ellen Stone: 1325 -

Athelyna Stone: 1327 -

Leonard Stone: 1321 -

IRELAND

Martha Driftwood: 1314 -

Elias Driftwood: 1314 -

SPAIN

Juan García: 1326 -

Deaths [1]

GERMANY

♰ Rasmus Kragh: 1280 - 1327 (47 years old), by poison

1300s: Start | Next

[corvidist]

The Festival - 1 

Yet another wave crashed against the bow of the SS Gentian, sending a wall of foam over the bulk carrier and onto its ever-spotless deck. On the bridge were two ABs, absently standing watch over the endless Arctic sea in the distance, and the silent communication systems in front of them, displaying an error message that had been present for longer than anyone bothered counting.

Once, OS Petras had called it a "Groundhog Day hell". Now, she was a de facto AB, sitting on the floor of the bridge as she worked on a new name. It was a way to break the monotony.

Every day started the same, a slow fade to consciousness for those who were awake at 11:34 pm on the evening of July 25th, 2056. Everyone else would awaken whenever their bodies felt like it, or when one of the watches sounded an alarm, flickered the lights, or blew the horn for the hell of it. They would end the same way too, at exactly 11:34 pm on a summer evening, with the ship breaking apart and sinking, the crew all dead for one reason or another. Then it would start again, the ship and its stores replenished, as if nothing had happened.

The crew had deteriorated in stages. Confusion and terror had prevailed in the first days, desperate attempts to establish communication, to avoid the sinking or survive it aboard the ship’s lifeboats, to make it to land…pleas to various deities and beliefs, the experience of death…the familiarization with it to the point of it feeling more like an inconvenience. Confusion gave way quite quickly to an overwhelming helplessness as it became clear that escape was not an option. That helplessness, it seemed, refused to dissipate. 

On a ship, there are only so many things one can do, especially in an age where much of the typical onboard recreation needed an outside connection to work. A few downloaded VR games and movies, some books, exercise, art, writing, exploring the ship, and a cluster of AI content generation programs filled the first several years. Still, only so much could be gained from these in a constant loop of repetition and death. As months of this loop turned to years, the crew became erratic and the tension palpable. Murders, suicides, intentional destruction, and beyond started after only four years or so. Games made on the edge of death, jumping into the freezing water, and riding the high seas with nothing but immersion suits. Many, like Bosun Manjeet Dadial, took on a subconscious attitude of simply getting it out of their systems, of exhausting themselves, before returning once again to the more mundane. 

Interestingly enough, the days, while they all felt the same, were not. Over time, the faint smells of smoke, rising ocean temperature, occasional sea life, the odd look of the clouds, and varying readings from the onboard weather monitoring systems were almost all that broke the environmental monotony. After only a few dozen loops, the aforementioned smell of smoke became noticeable, and the sky darker. Some more and the crew noticed a warming of the Arctic air and sunburns on exposed skin, even under the clouds. Thousands of cycles later, with almost every possible experience on board exhausted, the crew began to bet on the daily weather, to make games of how many spots of chipped paint they could find, or to simply stare out at the sea. Inputs into the content generation AIs became incomprehensible, prompts pushing them to their limits, and eventually even what came out of that seemed repetitive, or even worse, unrelatable. The crew felt almost as though they were one person, their realities reduced to the crew, ship, sea, and faint ideas of the old world beyond. 

This would be the state third mate Adrian Head found himself in as he spotted something in the distant swells. His mind, initially blanked in an attempt to simply perceive less, was shocked back to his reality as his mind fixated on the object over several minutes. It almost looked like driftwood, but this was…different…and when he reached for a set of binoculars, he only found himself more confused.

The first encounter of many for sailors of both the sea and air, caught in the center of the most wretched of yearly arctic storms, it would begin a legend as the sole survivor of their doomed boat managed to ride the exceptionally strong air currents to a distant shore. With how violent this type of storm was, however, it was rare for one to make it far enough to see the alien, hulking behemoth of metal, and much moreso to do it and live. 

The sightings stretched over thousands of years, however, it wasn’t until an archivist collective, located on what was once known as Melville Island, began concerted efforts utilizing an early biological submarine, sonar, and one of the first iterations of what Humans would know as a camera, to locate and document the mystery ship. The legend had evolved since its first sighting and only grew with the invention of metal-hulled ships. They ranged from a violent tempest of the arctic seas to a safe yet doomed refuge from them. They also now spoke of strange, wingless, featherless giants, who spoke an indecipherable tongue and supposedly approached with anything from desperation to fear and anger. 

One of the young apprentices spotted the blip first, letting out an involuntary click of surprise as the thus-far boring months seemingly chasing every reported storm in the arctic were suddenly shattered, and all eyes immediately turned towards the screen. Few had expected to find it, much less so quickly. It wasn’t yet close enough to safely fly to, but its confirmation through the sub’s periscope sent the crew into an excited frenzy.

An evolutionarily useful but occasionally dangerous aspect of Corvid psychology was the group decision-making process. Streams of ideas would rapidly flow from various individuals, and in a frenzy, the one that the most agreed with would just as quickly, almost unconsciously, be chosen. While this had helped to build more equal, decentralized, and compassionate societies than even the most militant of Human Anarchists could have dreamed of, it also came with drawbacks. With less time for consideration, it created issues for riskier decisions that required more time to assess, such as what they were currently facing. 

The decision was made by the collective to immediately board the ship upon surfacing and, if anyone was present on board, attempt contact. 

Some had landed on the ship before. They almost looked like Crows. Almost. They were larger, often carrying various items and hosting jewelry, painted feathers, or even odd clothing. Their talons were more dexterous, though seemingly not by too much. However, while Captain Jamal Kenny had once, somewhere, heard Crows were intelligent, his broken memory couldn’t recall whether or not they had been able to pilot boats and aircraft. Regardless, despite what seemed like clear attempts at communication, it was next to impossible to get anything across from either side with both in a panic, and by the start of each new cycle, they would be gone. The crew had their theories, and for many cycles, after each event, it propelled heated discussion, before once again flattening out. Now, what seemed to be some sort of odd submarine surfaced. The clock claimed that there were still a few hours before the ship once again sank, and amid the raging ocean spray, Jamal stepped out onto the port bridge wing. 

The submarine bobbed in the waves, small enough that its relative stability felt as though it bordered on the impossible. Part of the hull exposed to the air seemed to fade into an odd membranous substance, and from it, a group of about 12 of these Crows, their beaks covered in some sort of moss-like substance, emerged and promptly took off into the wind before diving onto the deck of the Gentian just before yet another wave crashed, obscuring it in a fresh layer of mist.

It was just as fascinating as they’d hoped, the seabound megastructure feeling closer to an alien spacecraft than any sort of boat the young apprentice had learned of. The membrane covering their feathers kept them dry, but it didn’t improve their vision, and as the faint outline of one of the bald giants came through the mist, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming terror and awe. They seemed to speak, and as expected, they couldn’t be understood. Not yet having noticed, a few of the apprentice’s comrades behind them perched on the edge of the structure in an attempt to provide a sense of scale for the slowly readying sub-mounted camera. If they were even discernible would be impossible to know until after the fact, and right now they had more important issues to deal with. 

Third Assistant Engineer Sandra Jiménez stumbled forward towards the figures in the mist, reaching out and bracing against the railing as another wave crashed. They were like the others that had appeared before, but this time they seemed more…organized…like they were here on purpose. As the mist broke and she stood among them, they looked terrified, just like the others, but they didn’t flee. They stood, gazing at her inquisitively. She raised her right hand, and after a few moments, one of them raised their right talons, following her movement. She slowly pulled a notebook from her pocket. With what felt like a thousand years to practice, she had become an immaculate artist and put it to use creating the best depiction she could think of for the situation she and the rest of the crew were in. 

It took all of the group’s courage to not so much as back away when the giant approached. A member of the biologist collective almost immediately recognized them as unsettlingly similar to reconstructions of prehistoric fossils. Out of a pocket, the giant produced a stack of paper and began to frantically scribble with some sort of writing implement. Just before another wave sprayed against the structure, they tore off the top of the stack and showed it to the group. A doodle of the structure, several stick figures representing the crew, and the sun and moon over and over again. The giant held it out to one of the Crows, who timidly reached for it with their beak, and took it. Several more images followed as the group moved towards a more sheltered area. 

Sandra tried to calm herself as she continued to desperately scribble. In lieu of any verbal communication, images would have to make do. Human symbols of course wouldn’t work, as she’d known since…some point…, so instead she drew what she guessed could be interpreted. A hasty sketch of the northwest passage, the ship breaking apart, and a human corpse. Then, a riskier move, a Human with an outstretched hand feeding seeds to a group of Crows, and crucially, a Human removing various insects from a Crow’s feathers. She couldn’t tell whether or not they understood, and as she handed them the last of the papers, she wept.

[katatty]

Driftwood gets a village green! There's not all that much here since markets and festivals are things we unlock later, but the villagers get a swing, public archery range, hay bale to jump on, and a game of skittles.

[wedezine]

Embrace the Seasons: Refresh Your Home Decor Throughout the Year

As the seasons shift, so too should the ambiance of your living space. From the vibrant hues of spring to the cozy comfort of winter, each season offers unique inspiration to transform your home decor. Here are eight creative ways to keep your space feeling fresh, vibrant, and in tune with the changing seasons by interior design company in shivamoga:

1. Color with the Seasons: Embrace the seasonal palette! In spring, opt for soft greens, blues, and pinks. Summer welcomes bold yellows and ocean blues. Fall calls for warm reds, oranges, and browns, while winter coves with cool whites, icy blues, and silver accents. Integrate these colors through throw pillows, curtains, or seasonal flowers.

2. Centerpieces and Accents: Create eye-catching centerpieces that reflect the season. Spring brings fresh flowers, summer features coastal elements like seashells, fall boasts pumpkins and autumn leaves, and winter twinkles with ornaments and pinecones.

3. Rotate Artwork and Wall Decor: Keep your walls engaging by rotating art and decor with the seasons. Showcase nature-inspired prints in spring, beach scenes in summer, warm abstracts in fall, and snowy landscapes in winter.

4. Lighten Up or Cozy Down: Adjust your lighting to match the season. In warmer months, maximize natural light and use light, airy fixtures. As the weather cools, introduce warm lighting with strategically placed lamps to create a cozy ambiance.

5. Bring the Outdoors In: Incorporate natural elements that resonate with each season. Spring features vases filled with blooms, summer showcases seashells and driftwood, fall displays pumpkins and pinecones, and winter welcomes evergreen branches.

6. Arrange and Rearrange Furniture: Experiment with furniture layout to enhance comfort and visual appeal. In warm weather, arrange furniture for flow and openness. During cooler seasons, create intimate seating arrangements that promote conversation. Additionally, rotate furniture pieces to breathe new life into your space.

7. Personalize Your Displays: Showcase your creativity with seasonal displays. Use open shelving or dedicated areas to exhibit seasonal decor, collectibles, or DIY projects.

8. Extend the Season Outdoors: Update your outdoor spaces too! Refresh patio furniture cushions, add seasonal plants, and hang outdoor decor that complements the surroundings.

By incorporating these ideas, you can transform your living space into a haven that reflects the beauty of each season. Remember, small, intentional changes can make a significant impact on the ambiance of your home. As a popular Living room interiors in shivamogga, WeDezine Studio offers you amazing decor ideas as per your style and personality.

[craftygstudio]

Festive Christmas Wreath Decorations and Creative Ideas for Every Season

As the holiday season approaches, one of the most iconic and beloved traditions is adorning our homes with festive decorations. Christmas wreaths are a timeless symbol of this celebration, and they add a touch of warmth and joy to any space. In this blog, we'll explore the art of Christmas wreath decorations, share some creative Christmas wreath ideas, and even touch on the concept of summer door wreaths to keep your home looking inviting year-round.

Part 1: Christmas Wreath Decorations

The beauty of Christmas wreaths lies in their versatility. They come in various shapes, sizes, and materials, allowing you to customize them to your liking. Here are some classic Christmas wreath decorations to consider:

Traditional Evergreen Wreath: The classic choice, made from fresh or artificial evergreen branches, often adorned with pinecones, red berries, and a festive bow. It exudes the timeless charm of Christmas.

Rustic Wreath: Create a cozy, rustic feel by incorporating natural elements like twigs, burlap, and dried fruits. This style is perfect for a country or farmhouse-themed Christmas.

Glamorous Wreath: For a touch of elegance, opt for a wreath made with shiny ornaments, metallic ribbons, and glittering accents. It's a show-stopper for any front door.

DIY Wreaths: Unleash your creativity by making your own wreath. Gather materials like ornaments, ribbons, and even old holiday cards to craft a one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

Personalized Wreaths: Monogram or custom wreaths add a personal touch to your décor. Incorporate your family name or initials to make your wreath truly unique.

Part 2: Christmas Wreath Ideas

Now, let's explore some creative Christmas wreath ideas that go beyond the traditional. These suggestions can add a fresh twist to your holiday decorations:

Themed Wreaths: Instead of a generic wreath, create one that follows a theme, such as a winter wonderland, Santa's workshop, or a candy cane lane.

Ornament Wreath: Decorate your wreath with a plethora of colorful ornaments, making it a vibrant and eye-catching focal point.

Scented Wreath: Incorporate fragrant elements like cinnamon sticks, dried oranges, and cloves to fill your home with a warm, inviting aroma.

Edible Wreath: Craft a wreath with edible goodies like candy canes, gingerbread cookies, or chocolate ornaments. It's a treat for the senses.

Minimalist Wreath: Embrace simplicity by using only a few elements, such as eucalyptus branches, white ribbons, and subtle lighting.

Part 3: Summer Door Wreaths

While Christmas wreaths are seasonal, the idea of decorating your door with wreaths doesn't have to be limited to the holidays. Summer door wreaths can bring the beauty of the season to your home year-round:

Floral Wreaths: Choose vibrant, summery flowers like sunflowers, daisies, or peonies for a welcoming and cheerful entry.

Seashell Wreaths: For a coastal vibe, create a wreath adorned with seashells, beach glass, and driftwood.

Herb Wreaths: Combine aromatic herbs like lavender, rosemary, and thyme to make a fragrant and visually appealing summer wreath.

Succulent Wreaths: These low-maintenance, drought-resistant plants can create a modern and trendy door decoration.

Nautical Wreaths: Celebrate the sea with a nautical-themed wreath featuring anchors, ropes, and seafaring elements.

Conclusion

Christmas wreath decorations hold a special place in our hearts during the holiday season, but with a dash of creativity, wreaths can become a delightful part of your home decor year-round. Whether you're crafting traditional Christmas wreaths or exploring unique ideas for any season, these festive decorations have the power to welcome guests and make your home feel warm and inviting. So, let your creativity flow, and embrace the beauty of wreaths in every season.

these festive decorations have the power to welcome guests and make your home feel warm and inviting. So, let your creativity flow, and embrace the beauty of wreaths in every season.

Get more information on CraftyGstudio

[pruenakamura]

Introducing Prue Nakamura!

Prue Nakamura is 27 years old and was born in Kismet Harbor, Oregon. She is a radio host & sales associate at Vinyl Fantasy and has been in town her whole life. She is currently single and lives in a 1 bed, 1 bath trailer in Horizon Park in Driftwood Haven. She is the daughter of Elizabeth Cassidy & Kenji Nakamura and the half-sister of Summer Cassidy.

MORE INFORMATION ON PRUE NAKAMURA

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[thelistingteammiami]

How to Decorate Your Vacation Rental Into a Coastal Dream

Summer has arrived — and so have the tourists. As school lets out and people put in for vacation time, you'll want to ensure your beachside rental home stands out among hundreds of other homes in the area.

Visitors are looking for something special during their trip. As such, vacation rental owners must consider furnishing the home and adding small coastal details to appease guests. If you want to turn your vacation rental into a 5-star coastal getaway, this guide will help you decide on the most essential design elements.

Beach Rentals Is a Hot Market

For a while, the COVID-19 pandemic hit the vacation rental market hard. Amid worldwide lockdowns, rentals sat vacant for a long time. Three years later, the market is hot again, with more people eager for a week-long escape. 

Forecasts suggest that the global vacation rental market was worth $74.64 billion in 2021 — a 32.04% increase from 2020. By 2028, the market value should reach about $107.14 billion. Short-term rentals — including those you can rent for a few hours — and platforms like VRBO and Airbnb are driving the trend.

According to a 2022 report by vacation home management company Vacasa, coastal properties are still the most popular short-term rental homes for buyers. Nearly 52% of homebuyers are interested in purchasing a coastal home — up 10% from the year before. These numbers point to beach destinations being the most common vacation for renters.

What Makes a Coastal Dream Vacation Rental?

Renters looking forward to a beach vacation will search for a place a stone's throw from the ocean. If you've managed to buy a vacation rental with sweeping views of sand and sea, you're one step ahead of everyone else.

It's important to know your target guests. Are you renting primarily to adults or families with young children? If so, you'll need the proper setup to accommodate everyone. Consider two master bedrooms for couples traveling together or bunk beds for kids. The more comfortable sleeping arrangements you provide, the better chances you'll have of booking renters.

It would be best to create an outdoor seating area, preferably with a patio table and chairs. The fun in a seaside escape is spending as much time outside as possible. You should also designate a place where guests can retreat indoors to get out of the heat, like a sunroom or lanai.

These elements should influence your design choices for the perfect coastal rental home. 

6 Ways to Decorate Your Coastal Vacation Rental

What comes to mind when you think of coastal design? It could be beachy paint colors, mermaid-themed trinkets or natural textures. Others might consider recreational activities like sunbathing, watching the sunset, playing bocce ball or collecting seashells.

Allow these ideas to inspire your decorative tastes as you create the perfect beach getaway for visitors. Here are six ways to turn your vacation rental into a coastal dream.

1. Choose a Breezy Palette

Light, saturated paint colors are the perfect backdrop for beachy decor, whether your design incorporates kitschy items like starfish and seashells or merely draws from the essence of the sea. 

Pull hues from the natural environment — beige, light gray-blue, seafoam and natural white are popular in coastal vacation rental homes. 

Guests should feel as calm and restful inside your rental property as they do soaking up sunrays in a chair. The right combination of colors will tie in seamlessly with each other for a casual, charming look.  

2. Incorporate Wood Elements

Coastal homes often include natural elements like driftwood. There are numerous ways to add wood items to your rental decor, including candleholders, centerpieces, bookcase items, light fixtures, flooring or furniture. 

Guests will appreciate it if you provide additional storage, so consider adding wood dressers in the bedrooms. Veneer wood has varied graining since all trees grow differently, giving veneer-faced furniture uniqueness with each cut. 

Exposed natural wood beams on the ceiling will also draw the eye upward and make your vacation rental feel warmer and cozier.

3. Create an Indoor Retreat

Although renters will likely spend most of the day frolicking in the ocean, delivering a respite for the evening is still a good idea. At some point, your renters will return from dinner and look for somewhere to relax before bed.

Decorate an enclosed sunroom by adding a comfortable loveseat or sofa, coffee table, a warm lamp and decorative pillows. You can lean into your color palette and coastal theme by choosing pillows with printed coral or fish patterns.

A separate den for kids and teens to play games and unwind from the day is another way to accommodate families on vacation. A darker, navy blue couch may be more kid-friendly than lighter fabrics and offer a nice contrast to airy coastal hues.

4. Include an Outdoor Area

When you highlight a beautiful seating area outside, your coastal dream vacation home will appeal to even more renters. Purchase durable outdoor furniture, including a sofa, armchairs and patio set for wine time, appetizers and dining al fresco. Wicker is standard for outdoor furniture sets.

Depending on the layout in your rental's backyard, you could add Adirondack chairs for watching the sunset or sitting around a firepit. Stringing market lights will deliver a warm glow at night.

Potted plants are the perfect decorations for outdoor entertaining. Plant colorful flowers in different-sized pots. Your pots could also come painted in coastal colors and designs. American beachgrasses and sea oats are excellent options for landscaping your beach property. Sea oats can grow 6 feet high and are drought and saltwater-tolerant. Their root systems reach 40 feet deep and protect against coastal erosion during storm surges.

5. Design a Full Kitchen

Adults may spend $60 per person for food on vacation — not including alcohol and snacks. Expenses add up quickly for families spending a week at the beach. 

Renters will find it helpful to have a fully-stocked kitchen with cooking appliances and prep space to offset the costs of eating out. You might be surprised at how many people are okay with cooking while on vacation. 

If your vacation home is near the beach, it’s probably on stilts. While this is practical for the elements, it’s not so practical for carrying your groceries or luggage up multiple flights of stairs. Consider installing a dumbwaiter to help your family and future guests maneuver as easily as possible. You are on vacation, after all.

Keep your kitchen bright and airy with a white or seafoam subway tile backsplash, durable countertops — white quartz with gold or silver veining goes well — and glass pendant lighting. If you have an island, shiplap is a traditional beachy look that beautifully ties into the coastal theme. Additionally, barstools with a blue and white fabric cushion will provide extra seating during meals. 

6. Play With Lighting

Natural light is your best option for a coastal dream vacation rental home. Avoid heavy curtain panels and opt for light sheers instead. You should also bring in hanging light fixtures and lamps.

Lamps with blue glass bases will deliver a glowy hue at night. Rattan pendant shades are another option for adding natural elements to your rental's design. Aside from stringing lights outside, you could consider tiki torches or solar lights so guests can see where they're going.

Create the Coastal Vacation Rental of Your Dreams

There are endless possibilities for designing the perfect coastal vacation rental home. Although you can always search online for ideas, one look at your surroundings and you'll find that inspiration is all around you.