Let it be known that if I marry a terrible yet wealthy man who soon dies under suspicious circumstances, it won't have been for his house, but for his grounds
my neighbors have stolen all the fruit from a tree in my (fenced! gated!) backyard that I have waited years to eat. from a tree I planted in childhood; my favorite fruit. all grace, all charitable feeling has left my body. it is war
it was apparently not my side neighbors (though it may have been someone from their party yesterday without their knowledge--or the back neighbors). war on hold until target established but lord... now I need security for my backyard... this sucks
it is possible that my neighbors weren't involved even tangentially, despite my inclinations, as I've discovered that the tree *can* be seen from the street, so. whoever it was, may my curse follow you always
the suspicion is now falling on someone in the crew that set up/took down the party equipment next door. the neighbors are cleared, sorry to besmirch their name (for all their other qualities as neighbors, they at least did not steal my fruit 😤)
must I have a career. may I not simply lounge on a balcony overlooking the sea while my husband cooks dinner, a nightly token of his appreciation for my silence on the disappearance of his first wife
Hot girl summer had its day in the sun; Dracula summer approaches. Time to retreat to your castle, bolt the doors, trap your rebellious loved ones inside lest they wander into the wolf-infested countryside, and burst into a flock of bats to avoid human contact
I would like a little cushioned window seat where I could curl up with a book and a cup of tea, and I'd also like a little shelf where I could put the book and the tea so I could just nap in the window seat. I would like a nap
imagine a mysterious love interest in a gothic novel but instead of his secret being a wife in the attic he's just super into model trains and very embarrassed about it
Belle saying "he's not the monster, Gaston; you are" really sums up everything I love about gothic love stories: the love for a monster who is simply a man, and the rejection of a man who is revealed to be monstrous
Thinking about how in fairy tales, everyday household objects are the portals to new realities. A wardrobe, a looking glass, a window open to the night sky. How universal it is, the desire to escape, and the hope that the exit is nearby, if only we knew where to look
it's fiction. to ask that the heroine in a gothic drama be treated better by the other characters is to misunderstand that fiction is a method of storytelling, not a guidebook for an ideal life
why did THIS go viral?? 😭 to clarify, the tree has been fruiting for many years now and will continue to do so next year etc., so this is a purely temporary issue, don't worry!
We've had bread, we've had sea shanties... WHERE is the knitting resurgence? When will fretting about patterns and yarn tension and stitch counting bless the tl
deleting my dating apps because I want to meet someone the old fashioned way (I'm a ballet dancer at the paris opera house, he whispers at me through my mirror)
I just think it would be nice to sit in a little highland cottage beside a fire, a knit blanket on my lap, a mug of hot cocoa in my hand, and watch distant flashes of lightning on the horizon as the dusk intensifies and fades into night
my general life plan is to wander around little art galleries and lush gardens until eventually my own house looks like an art gallery and my own gardens are just as lush. and then I'll wander around them some more
I think you should be allowed to haunt places even if you're not dead. 'the lighthouse is said to be haunted' like yeah, it's a great spot to get some writing done, mind your business
The year is 1922. My new husband drives me through the ivy-covered gate to his ever-more-decrepit manor for the first time. There's much I don't know about him, and I'm filled with innate apprehension. Not to worry. I'll have the manor and an even newer husband soon enough.
Be safe this Halloween! If a strange mist appears despite the clear evening sky, or if you're indoors, be calm. Dracula will soon follow. Before your mind clouds, consider the feeling of dappled sunlight on your skin. Recall your love for your family. Then abandon it all for him.
if you become a ghost, don't limit yourself to haunting houses. be the first to haunt a jellyfish exhibit! make a tulip your home and startle a bee. haunt a ball of yarn, get knit into a sweater. remember: it's your soul that's eternally damned, NOT your sense of style
take a mug of tea outside and drink it in the sunlight. set a bouquet of flowers on the windowsill. systematically destroy the lives of the three men who conspired to imprison you in the Château d'If. do whatever it takes to get through the day
it's also fun! there's no danger in being drawn to these villainous characters because they're *not real.* the phantom of the opera is sexy as hell, murder and kidnappings and all, and no I would not go near him irl. in reality I like only the sweetest of boys!
imagining a little gargoyle sitting in a sunflower field. taking a vacation from its cathedral and enjoying an afternoon beside a gentle forest creek, a sprig of clover clasped in its claw
if a terrible rainstorm forces me to seek shelter in an abandoned manor house and I find myself being watched by the piercing eyes of an aged portrait, I would simply hang a soft blanket over the painting and enjoy a peaceful night. can't haunt me if I tuck you in
isn't it horrible when mysterious accidents keep happening in the old house you've just inherited and then you hear the sound of children's laughter echoing down the empty halls? like, great, now I've got to be a good role model for these ghost kids on top of everything
I need my own portrait in the style of Dorian Gray, but for my anxiety. I'll go flitting through life and that painting will sit in an attic looking troubled as hell
I'm just a simple girl who wants a simple house with a simple false bookcase that reveals a simple hidden room where I'll summon my simple demon helpers to do my simple housework
feels a bit like we're all members of a royal court and these harried messengers keep running up & shouting things like 'my lord, an attempt has been made on the rival king's life!' and 'hark, the frail king has fallen ill!' and we're just sitting there, wine glasses half-lowered
a perfume that smells like drifting off to sleep in a green velvet armchair, all silent save for the low crackling of the fireplace and the occasional soft thump as the house ghost makes its nightly rearrangements
being vaccinated does NOT mean you can vacation in monte carlo and fall in love with the first charming older man you meet, marry him on a whim, and follow him back to his secluded family manor where secrets of the past still echo in the empty halls
The power to summon a sea of mist is thought to be one of Dracula's less exciting abilities, but honestly? To be able to subdue your surroundings with a quieting blanket of fog,, I covet it
a perfume that smells like waking up in a haunted manor you'd sheltered in during a storm and finding your rainsoaked clothes now dry and neatly folded on the end of your bed, a single dried violet laying atop the pile
she doesn't want a heart-shaped necklace. she wants you to wear her star-shaped necklace on your quest to help destroy the one ring in the fires of mordor
I've had my old lady sweater on all day and I didn't uncover a single clue in a murder case or spy on my suspicious neighbors or have a bumbling constable over for tea. Perhaps tomorrow
Dearest husband,
The relentless autumn winds have overwhelmed my delicate constitution. Please return from Paris posthaste so you can tenderly lay a damp cloth across my delicate brow before it's too late.
P.S. Buy me throat coat tea or I'll have your neck.
Your darling wife
I can't get out of my head that the sun copyright YA lady thought the antagonist in Othello was named "Lago." every time she saw "Iago," she thought it began with a lowercase "l." Lago. Lago
sometimes you just have to gently tilt a man's chin up with the tip of your sword and threaten not to kill him, but to strip him of the sense of morality he so defiantly clings to
@roxiqt
He spent the entire time talking about superhero comic plotlines, and then went on to tell me he didn't actually read them.....he just liked reading the wikipedia summaries
I'm trying to shed my night owl tendencies and become an early bird, but now I'm stuck in the middle, neither one nor the other. So for the time being, I'm a... day crow? A middle pigeon? Or a noon finch perhaps