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sleepywitchlory · 5 months

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Night date pt 2♥️

I‘m Doing Lorys Merlin trials atm and I can’t help myself but make photos every single time with this trial ♥️🙈

#sebastian sallow #hogwartslegacy #harrypotter #hogwartslegacymc #hogwarts #slytherin #wizardingworld #sebastiansallow #hogwarts legacy mc #Lorraine jones

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morelikeravenbore · 28 days

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eeeeee our girlies are finally together! @sleepywitchlory

✨ NPC replacer mods by the lovely @seb-ominis

Lory: 👋😀

Aura: 😒

gossiping about these two idiots:

Alistair: "are they giggling at us?"

Sebastian: "at you, maybe."

ANYWAYS, I wrote a chaotic oneshot about these four. A friend-shot? A friend-ship? Anyway, read it here if you wanna (or don't, I'm not the boss of you): Don't Tell Ominis

Accidentally conjuring a dragon with Ancient Magic wasn't exactly what most would consider a stroke of luck, but as the secret entrance to the Undercroft slammed shut behind her, Aurélie thought herself very lucky on several accounts: first, that the dragon had been small, as far as dragons go; second, that Sebastian hadn't been there to witness her embarrassing blunder (because, as enthusiastic as he was about her practising her magic, she felt certain even he would draw the line at conjuring fire-breathing demon-lizards in a school; and third, that she'd managed to escape said demon-lizard without so much as a singed hair (hers, not the dragons.)

Luck — if one ignored the extremely unlucky circumstances that directly proceeded it — was on her side.

✨ [Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist] ✨

#FRIEND SHIPS #aurelie collins #lorraine jones #LORÉLIE #ravenclaw x hufflepuff #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts legacy oneshot

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dozydawn · 5 months

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Models: Lorraine Pascale and Jennifer Jones.

#lorraine pascale #(L)#jennifer jones #(R)#1990s

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lavoixhumaine · 4 months

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tagged by @randomnon911stuff

my top 9 characters of 2023 (in alphabetical order)

1. Athena Grant-Nash (9-1-1)

2. Barbara Howard (Abbot Elementary)

3. Dani Clayton (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

4. Jessica Jones (Marvel’s Jessica Jones)

5. Koo Ryeon (Tomorrow)

6. Lorraine Warren (The Conjuring Cinematic Universe)

7. Miranda (The Flight Attendant)

8. Rita Veder (Vampire in Brooklyn)

9. The Storyteller (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

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simspaghetti · 2 years

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As much as she wanted to brush of Lorraine's threats, Hannah knew that she wasn't bluffing, and as a high ranking government official, she had the power to get herself and Aiden arrested...

She quickly came to the only conclusion she could, that there was no bargianing this problem.

They had no choice but to leave.

(All Chapters)

#BMTL Challenge #Sims 3 #TS3 #Sims Story #Sims Legacy #Sims Challenge #Remington BMTL #Ch1.3 #In My Dreams #Hannah Jones #Lorraine Cantina #BMTLmob

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downthetubes · 2 months

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Crowdfunding Spotlight: Multiverse of Mystery – Holmes & Watson in every universe, every incarnation, all at once!

The International Association of Media Tie-In Writers, who know a thing or two about adaptations, is currently seeking support on Kickstarter for a Sherlock Holmes short story project, Multiverse of Mystery. While this project is text fiction, do check out the list of creators involved, some of whom I’ve worked with recently during my editorship of Star Trek Explorer, such as Keith R.A.…

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morelikeravenbore · 1 month

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✨Don't Tell Ominis

I wrote this fun little oneshot for my dear friend @sleepywitchlory, whose MC Lory is as sweet, kind and loyal as she is, and whose friendship in this fandom I will always treasure and keep close to my heart.

Content warnings: none, unless you're triggered by offensive footwear. SFW.

Word count: 1.9k

Lory and Alistair belong to @sleepywitchlory.

[my hogwarts legacy masterlist]

Luck — if one ignored the extremely unlucky circumstances that directly proceeded it — was on her side.

Read on 👇

Or so she thought, until the sound of approaching footsteps broke the still silence of the empty Defence tower, announcing the swift arrival of unidentified others.

Merde.

Fearing her luck had already run out, Aurélie raised her wand, intending to conceal herself under a hasty disillusionment, when a familiar voice gave her pause.

'Ouch!' hissed the voice from somewhere close by. 'Sebastian, that's my foot!'

'Bloody hell, Lory,' replied a second, much louder voice, 'if you'd stop clutching my arm so hard -'

'Will you both shut up before somebody hears us?'

Moments later, Aurélie breathed a sigh of relief as three slightly disheveled and out-of-breath figures appeared from beneath the guise of magical concealment. Luck had come to her aid again, but this time in the form of three of her four best friends, who each stared back at her with wildly varying expressions on their faces: surprise (Lory, pleasant), skepticism (Sebastian, shrewd), and indifferent (Alistair, cold.)

'Aura!' said Lory cheerfully, her strawberry-blonde hair gilded under the warm the torchlight.

'Aura?' echoed Sebastian, less cheerfully, his wild brown curls standing up in disarray.

Alistair, standing slightly away from the others, said nothing.

'What are you doing here?' Lorraine Jones, ever the sweet-natured Hufflepuff, saw nothing nefarious in her best friend being out past curfew and was simply happy to be united again. 'Were you in the Undercroft?' she asked, linking their arms together. 'You smell different. Like... charcoal?'

'She's right,' agreed Sebastian, leaning in to take an exaggerated a whiff of Aurélie's vivid red hair, 'you stink.'

'Hey!'

'Why were you in the Undercroft?' he went on, his brown eyes narrowed on her suspiciously. Where Lory's natural kindness saw only the best in every situation, Sebastian's Slytherin nature meant he was predisposed to believe the exact opposite. 'Were you alone? How long have you been down there? Why didn't you ask me to come?'

'Who cares why she was in the Undercroft,' muttered Alistair, who, generally speaking, didn't care much what anyone did so long as it didn't encroach on him. 'Why aren't we going into the Undercroft?'

Aurélie threw her arms out wide.

'No!' she cried as the dark-haired Slytherin made for the concealed entrance. 'You can't go in there!'

Alistair Cushing, distant descendant of Salazar Slytherin, inarguably the most intimidating student in the entire school, and - thanks to Lory's innate ability to befriend quite literally anyone or any thing - the newest addition to their friend group, fixed her with a piercing blue-eyed stare, clearly affronted

'And why not?' he asked, his calm tone thick with a disdain only those borne of Slytherin blood could afford; Alistair, like his cousin Ominis, did not take kindly to being told what to do.

'Yeah!' agreed Sebastian, elbowing him out of the way. 'Why not?'

'Because I said so!' snapped back Aurélie, who was not descended from ancient, all-powerful Parselmouths, but from a very long line of equally-formidable French women.

Alistair raised his eyes to the ceiling, silently praying for patience, while beside her, still clinging to Aurélie's arm, Lory bounced on the balls of her feet.

'Oooh,' she giggled, pinching her best friends elbow, 'did you sneak a boy down there, Aura?'

'What?' Aurélie's spluttered cry of indignation was rivalled only by that of Sebastian's.

'What boy?' they said in unison.

'What boy?' repeated Sebastian. 'Did you show someone the Undercroft? The Undercroft is supposed to be a secret! You're not allowed to do that!'

'Why not? You showed it to me!' Aurélie retorted.

'And me!' added Lory.

'Me, too,' came from Alistair.

Sebastian pulled a face. 'Yeah, well...' he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. 'You lot are different. That doesn't count. Only I'm allowed to share the knowledge of the Undercroft.'

'Excuse me?' Alistair rounded on him, standing taller in his indignation. 'The Undercroft has been known by my descendants for a thousand years, I do not need your permission to -'

'Oh, please,' Sebastian interrupted, rolling his eyes as Alistair bared down on him. 'You're like Ominis' third cousin, it's hardly a connection to boast about.'

'Right, and you're the third cousin of nobody, so why do you get to set the rules -'

'Because I've been using the Undercroft since first year!'

'So what? My family's been using it since the school was founded!'

Aura and Lory exchanged a silent, long-suffering look.

'Now, now, you two,' Lory intervened, stepping between the arguing boys with her palms raised. 'Play nice, or Aura won't tell us about her romantic rendezvous in the Undercroft.'

'Lory, I did not sneak a boy into the Undercroft! The only boys I know are...' she gestured vaguely at the two Slytherins before them, the taller of which groaned aloud and rolled his eyes.

'For the love of Salazar,' muttered Alistair, 'has there ever in the entire thousand-year history of Hogwarts been a Ravenclaw who gave a straight answer? Because I've certainly never met one.' He turned to fix Aurélie with his signature ice-prince glare. 'Why,' he said very deliberately, 'are we not allowed in the Undercroft?'

Aurélie gulped.

'Because I -' She shot a panicked look between each of her friends, wondering how much longer her luck was going to hold out. So far, beyond her narrow escape from her little magical mishap, luck had kept away any meddling prefects, professors or ghosts, and ensured that the roaring of the accidental dragon couldn't be heard several floors above it. At any rate, it was no good trying to hide a bloody dragon; someone was bound to notice eventually, so she might as well just admit to her mistake and hope that somehow luck would, well... fix it.

'Because, I - well, because I accidentally conjured a dragon down there.'

The silence that followed was so dense Aurélie had to wiggle her finger in her ear. Three stunned faces gaped back at her, and then, all at once -

'You conjured a what?'

'You conjured a dragon where?'

'Ooh, can we name it Nugget?'

'Lory, please,' Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. 'We've been over this, you cannot keep a dragon as a pet.'

Lory pouted. 'But why?'

'I don't understand,' Alistair cut in, one brow arched so high Aurélie was sure it would never come down again. 'If you conjured it, why can't you just... un-conjure it?'

'No!' cried the two girls in unison, their combined outrage echoing through the tower with enough force to wake the entire school.

'Are you mad? You can't just un-conjure an animal!'

'It's a living creature, Alistair!'

'How would you like it if I un-conjured you?'

'How could you be so unfeeling?'

'Bad move, Cushing,' Sebastian chuckled, clapping the tall bewildered Slytherin on the shoulder. 'I know you're only new to the group, but there are two rules you need to observe if you want to stay on the girls' good sides: never threaten Lory's Beasts, and never question Aura's fashion advice.'

'Yes, speaking of!' said Aurélie sharply, eyeing Sebastian's feet with disdain. 'I thought we agreed against those shoes!'

'Uh... t-these shoes? Are you sure? I don't recall, I think you're confused with my other shoes...'

'They are pretty ugly, Sebby,' Lory agreed, wrinkling her nose at the offending monstrosities that Sebastian considered appropriate footwear.

Aurélie threw her hands up, exasperated. 'They're hideous! We talked about this, you promised you were going to get rid of them!'

'Aw, bad move, Sallow,' smirked Alistair. 'Perhaps you need a refresher on those rules, hm?'

'Never mind my shoes!' Sebastian scowled, dodging away from a very condescending shoulder pat. 'Id say the more pressing matter is the literal dragon -'

'Nugget,' Lory interjected.

' - a literal unnamed dragon,' he continued, raising his voice, 'that someone decided to conjure in our Undercroft.'

Aurélie bristled. 'I didn't decide to -'

' — just seems a very unlikely thing to do by accident —'

'— on earth would I want to purposely conjure a —'

'— what goes on in your head half the time —'

'Enough!'

It wasn't often that Lorraine Jones lost her temper. She was, after all, the temperate voice of reason among the chaos; the gentle Hufflepuff influence who took all sides into consideration and mediated the best outcome for everyone. She was the temperate warmth to Alistair's coldness; the voice of reason to Sebastian's impulsivity; and a true friend to Aurélie, who'd shown up at Hogwarts two years prior, alone, overwhelmed, and grieving the untimely death of her parents. Without Lory, their unlikely friend group would be nothing but a fractured band of orphans, misfits and outcasts; Aurelie in her Ravenclaw tower, the three snakes in the dungeons, each of them separated by grief, isolated by trauma.

Lory was undoubtedly the glue that kept them all together - but, Merlin, when she was angry...

'Sebastian!' she snapped, jabbing a small but mighty finger at his face. 'For once in your life, shut up! And Aurélie!' she went on, interrupting the face she was pulling at Sebastian. 'Stop arguing with him!' Finally, she turned her wrath to the dark-haired boy, but when he only raised an unconcerned brow, she opened her mouth, closed it, then turned away, shrugging.

'Now,' she said, planting her hands firmly on her hips. 'Aura made a mistake, but bickering about it isn't going to get banish a dragon now, is it? Really, we should consider ourselves lucky that the situation isn't much worse!'

'Lucky?' Alistair echoed, laughing for quite possibly the first time in his entire life. 'Oh, my dear friends, facing a dragon is the least of your worries now.'

Sebastian frowned, clearly as confused as the rest of them. But then a slow-dawning horror broke across his face. 'Oh,' he said.

Aurélie paled, envisioning a dragon loose in the school, Hogwarts destroyed by fire, or worse - expulsion.

'What?' she demanded, palms sweaty. 'Sebastian Sallow, don't "oh" me! What is Alistair talking about?'

'Oh ho ho,' he said again, but this time with laughter in his voice. He turned to Alistair. 'You know, it isn't really my Undercroft, is it, Cushing?'

'For once in your life, Sallow, you are correct. Nor is it mine, really, being, as you mentioned, only a very distant relative to the Gaunt's. Hardly a connection at all, when you think about it.'

Aurélie turned, panic-stricken, to face her best friend.

'Oh, no,' she said.

'Oh, no,' Lory agreed.

Alistair cracked a rare smile. 'There's only one true owner of the Undercroft, after all...'

'And you, my favourite little Ancient Magic weilder,' Sebastian said, throwing an arm around Aurélie's shoulders, 'just stuck a great dirty dragon in the middle of the Heir of Slytherin's most treasured room.'

Luck fleed before her, leaving cold dread in its wake as a new set of echoing footsteps moved slowly toward them, accompanied by the unmistakeable red glow of a semi-sentient wand.

Ominis' sharp voice reached them first, slicing through the heavy silence like severing charm.

'You did what in my Undercroft?'

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy mc #aurelie collins #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #lorraine jones #ravenclaw x hufflepuff #morelikeravenbore writes

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wutbju · 1 year

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Janice Lorraine Nash, age 85, of Terre Haute, Indiana passed away on Wednesday, July 13, 2022.

She was born March 12, 1937, in Ayden, North Carolina, to Levi G. and Eva (Pittman) Worthington.

Janice studied at Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina. She married the love of her life, Jerry Nash, on August 23, 1958. She was a devoted wife and mother.

Janice is survived by her loving husband of 64 years, Jerry Nash; two children: Lorraine (Bradley) Jones and Jerry (Sandy) Nash Jr.; and her loving grandchildren: Emily Jones, Amanda Jones, Nicole Jones, Lydia Nash, Stephen Nash, and Victoria (John) Holtgrewe. She is also survived by a sister, Linda Futch.

She was preceded in death by her parents and her daughter, Deborah Nash. Janice was a proud member of the Terre Haute Bible Center. She enjoyed listening to music and being a homemaker, and loved to laugh and spend time with her family, as well as her cats.

Visitation will be held at Roselawn Funeral Home from 5 p.m to 8 p.m on Sunday, July 17, 2022. A Service of Praise will be held at the Terre Haute Bible Center on Monday, July 18, 2022 at 10 am.

Janice will be laid to rest at Lincoln Memory Gardens in Whitestown, Indiana. The family would like to welcome friends to the Mausoleum Chapel at 2pm on Monday, July 18, 2022 at Lincoln Memory Gardens.

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Terre Haute Bible Center, located at 3219 E. Evans Ave., Terre Haute, IN 47805.

#Bob Jones University #Archive #Obituary #BJU Hall of Fame #BJU Alumni Association #2022 #Junior #Class of 1958 #Janice Lorraine Worthington Nash

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anyathefandom · 2 years

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So what I'm getting from this episode you have to be a fiz, Auxie, and sona fan plus you have to be invested in the Wiley's adults sl to care about this episode.🥱

#hamilton finn #elizabeth webber #austin holt #maxie jones #sonny corinthos #nina reeves #carly corinthos #willow tait #michael corinthos #lorraine miller #general hospital

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dancingtotuyo · 1 month

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All Farms…

Javier Peña

Summary: Javier has to decide what to do with the ranch

Warnings/Tags: grief, loss, hurt (no comfort?), ranch/farm used interchangeably here.

Notes: I started this on Christmas after walking my grandparents farm which happens to be the same farm I lived on for the first 7 years of my life. My grandparents are getting older which has sparked a lot of conversation with what will happen to the farm when they're gone. Fast forward to now, I'm currently processing a lot of feelings this Easter weekend. I lost my step dad last year. He was a farmer too. After his cancer diagnosis, all of us kids (there are ALOT of us) came home for Easter. It was the last time I saw him look like himself and the last time we were all together before he died. In my processing, I started working on this piece again. It's one of those things I need to put out into the world for me. I hope for anyone else going through something similar, it brings you comfort or makes you feel not quite so alone.

Peep the cow picture. I took that one myself at Christmas :)

Words: 966

Author Master List

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. Typically along a ridge or tree line, piled-up equipment that was never sold or broken beyond repair sits in overgrown piles and sunken earth. The old family car. The beat-up sports car or pickup truck each son or sometimes daughter inevitably thought they could fix only to spend hundreds of fruitless hours with one glory ride before it went haywire. Scrap metal torn from barn roofs pile up. Every tire imaginable is half buried in the earth. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. The moment you do, you’ll find use or need for the items thrown out.

The Peńa’s graveyard sits between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill. Javier rarely makes his way to that side of the farm. They don’t use that space for cattle since his dad downsized the herd. He pretends there’s no reason for it, but it’s more than just broken down cars and scrap piles to Javier. It’s a ghost town of memories.

There’s his mom’s ‘62 Ford. The one she drove his whole childhood. The vehicle that took them across town, to Sunday services, and hosted their many road trips. It’s where his Mom feels most tangible, her soft voice playing in his head singing to the radio.

His first truck. The one he’d spent months fixing up, he kissed Sally Jones on a Saturday night and done much more with Vanessa Reyes. He’s proposed to Lorraine in that truck, driven past the church in it too.

Chucho’s first American Harvester sits further back. His dad is so proud of that machine… or he was.

The ache grows in Javier’s chest as he stands at the edge of the graveyard. He begged Chucho for years to clean this up. His dad always waved him off, stating that he would get to it someday. Except, Chucho didn’t make it to someday, and now it is Javier’s responsibility.

His fingers twitch, desperate for the feel of a cigarette between them. Nicorette gum sits in his breast pocket instead. He’s working to quit again, picking the worst damn time to do it, but that’s life.

He should probably bring the tractor down to pull everything out. It’s overwhelming with no good place to start. Digging around down there will only dig up the memories. Javier can’t deal with the memories right now, so he leaves the project for another day. He only needs to clean it up if he decides to sell the ranch.

The house is quiet when he walks through the door. Javier is used to the subtle sounds of life- the coffee pot going, the tv running on low, Chucho’s boots on the linoleum, but it never comes. It won’t ever come again.

Javier kicks off his boots, lining them right next to his dad’s. He hasn’t moved them. He’s not sure he will.

He heads for the back of the house toward his room but stops at his Dad’s door. It’s shut tight as he places a hand on the wood. Javier hasn’t gone in there since picking out clothes. It’s a strange thing to pick out clothes for a dead man. How does one pick out what someone will wear for the rest of eternity?

His hand lands on the knob, and it gives way with a squeak. The same squeak that used to echo down the hall, waking Javier up before the sun to let him know it was time for chores. Javier is flooded with the comforting scent of his father. It envelopes him, pulling tears into his eyes immediately. The bed is fixed just as Chucho had left it before he went out and started the chores just as he always did. Except that day, almost a month ago now, Chucho Peña didn’t return to the house.

He collapsed in the field. He was already gone when Javier found him. He died alone and that hurt almost as much as the fact that he was gone.

A thin layer of dust covers the surfaces in the room. He should clean it, but would it lose its smell then? In here, Javier feels surrounded by his father. The closest he can get to him. His room, the one he shared with Javier’s mother, is perfectly preserved.

Javier dares to ease onto the bed and look at the world from Chucho’s perspective every day as he woke up. On the dresser, there’s a photo of his parents when they first started dating, and one from Javier’s high school graduation. On the bedside table, there’s a book with a bookmark halfway through, a picture from his parent’s wedding day, and another of Chucho on the tractor with Javier in his lap. He couldn’t have been older than two at the time. Javier traces it with his finger, wishes he could remember that moment, wishes he could go back in time and relive it all, even the bad days, and treasure it all, ask his dad more questions, called him more often.

Javier lays down on his parents' bed. Chucho’s scent is thicker here with Javier’s head on his pillow. Big, hot tears fall from the corners of his eyes dampening the pillow. He rests his hands over his chest, letting his eyes close. Javier can hear his voice now, his laughter, catches a hint of his mother’s as well. It’s Javier’s job to carry on their legacy.

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. When a tractor kicks the dust or that farm use pickup can only be stripped for parts, Javier follows in his father’s footsteps. He lays them to rest between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill.

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #javier peña narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

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