#DEAREST

[zoirohs]

Barbara Stanwyck as Mollie Monahan UNION PACIFIC — 1939, dir. Cecil B. DeMille

[icarusredwings]

"Oh thats a good kitty 🧑‍🦲"

I say as I pet on kitty. 👨‍🦽

"No. I am evil kitty😈"

Says evil kitty. 🐅

[godshaper]

Officially introducing all of my characters =] Please feel free to ask me things about them 🙏

Full character sheets below, I highly suggest looking at them closely, some of them have... secrets.

[zappedbyzabka]

[jomiddlemarch]

for dearest you will always be

If anyone observed that following his nuptials to Miss Woodhouse, Mr. Knightley, while in company, referred to his wife exclusively as Mrs. Knightley, it seemed no one was inclined to remark upon it, ascribing it to the gentleman��s well-known propriety and elegant manners, regarding it as yet another sign of the exemplary quality of the aristocracy in the neighborhood of Highbury, despite the frequent complaints of Mrs. Elton to the contrary.

No one, perhaps, except Mrs. Weston and only when she sat in her sunny morning room with her former charge, a plentiful array of cakes and biscuits accompanying the tea that had been brought in as Mrs. Knightley’s call was expected to far exceed the traditional quarter of an hour which those who were visited by Mrs. Elton often found themselves thanking the good Lord and good Ton for establishing.

“I admit I have noticed, dear Emma, that Mr. Knightley does not use your Christian name when you are among others, even those of us who are old and, I would venture to say, dear friends and have known you both under less formal appellation and situation,” Mrs. Weston said. Mr. Weston would have said when Emma was in leading strings and George was in short dresses, but Mrs. Weston was more delicate about these things.

Emma laughed and took a sip of her tea. It was prettily done, a reflection of Mrs. Weston’s tutelage.

“I’ve never heard Mr. Weston call my husband George, not once.”

“He would be more likely to say only Knightley, I agree,” Mrs. Weston said, which was a half-truth, as her husband referred to their neighbor as George when he felt the man was acting the sage before he’d acquired the years required for wisdom. “But Mr. Knightley himself had been wont to call you Emma, perhaps not at table, but in conversation that might be overheard. Especially if your sister and his brother were of the party. It does not trouble you, that he should be so formal?”

Emma thought back to the evening she had asked much the same question of her husband, when they had retired for the night and he was giving her hair the hundred strokes her lady’s maid ought, save that he’d begged the task the first morning she’d woken as Mrs. George Knightley and it had been her very great pleasure to accede. It had taken her a fortnight to be sure he was not calling her Emma outside of her bedchamber and she had been apprehensive when she inquired, so much so that he’d stroked her furrowed brow before he’d answered.

“I cannot call you Emma, my dear Emma, dearest Emma, when we are with others, for it recalls to me too intensely calling you so when you are in dishabille, in my arms. In my bed, naked,” he’d said softly, then leaned over to graze her temple with his, kissing her throat, his hand at her shoulder coaxing her to rise from her seat, to be turned and held in his embrace. 

“Emma, my dear Emma, you beguile me, bewitch me, beloved,” he muttered, his palm cupping the back of her head, the other possessive at her hip. “The scent of you, the taste of your lips, your skin, your desire—you make me dizzy, make me a fool—”

“Oh,” she’d gasped, only that, and then he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, his body pressed hard against hers with an escalating carnal urgency it had taken a sacrament to make virtue and not the most delicious, salacious vice.

“Dearest, how could I let anyone hear me call you that when it means this,” he said, striving closer, a hand raising the hem of her night-rail, with a terrible, wonderful confidence pursuing those intimacies which left her overwhelmed and panting, her appetite tempted as it was sated. “Dearest Emma, when I call you that, I mean you are mine, body and soul, I mean I have run out of any other words, dearest, yes, like that, just like that—”

They had barely slept that night, by daybreak their voices hoarse, and when he’d called her dearest as the housemaid brought in her chocolate, Emma had blushed and shivered, making George chuckle and give her a most knowing look that had her diving beneath the coverlet, waiting for him to seek her out.

“I’m very content with Mr. Knightley,” Emma said to her former governess. “He is everything circumspect and proper and it is an honor to have the company reminded I am his wife, held in his highest esteem and respect.”

“I am quite convinced,” Mrs. Weston said, her brown eyes merry. “He shall not be distressed though if I call you my dear Emma, from time to time, as our long acquaintance supersedes the duration of your marriage and of course, having had the duty of educating you, I sometimes revert back to my old ways.”

“He shall not be distressed by that at all, Mrs. Weston,” Emma replied. “Though I think he derives nearly as great delight as I do in hearing me called Mrs. Knightley, unless John is doing it to tease Isabella and me to distraction!”

Written for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month Day 20, prompt: dearest

[chococrepes-art]

I loved Sucker For love and Sucker for love: Date to die for, so here is some fanart of D and Nyanlathotep drinking bubble tea

If you are asking yourself why I cut the page that way is because the page wasn't in the best shape, not that it's better now. Also I made this today, which is nice.

[poetryvampire]

Goth Rolan. Save me goth Rolan!

[sm-baby]

Clancy got new design???

Nah!! "Love" and "Dearest" are just Lovecore reskins of Franny and Clancy :3 Clancy still has the regular old design.

Though, because Clancy and Love have different eye colors, Theres a part of me that thinks that Love is a different universe varient of Clancy.

Pehehe! i have this little inside joke... Instead of Clancy and Franny, the Lovecore girls real names are "Nancy" and "Francesca"

[sillybeanies]

today's beanie: dearest the bear

[imaginativeworks]

Imagine your OTP

Person B rambling on about something nonsensical. Till it would seem Person A has had enough. They moves away from where they were standing with a sigh and gets down on one knee in front of Person B and says… 

Person A: “Please just marry me. I cannot bare a moment longer in which I don’t have your hand in mine in marriage. Please, my dearest. I can’t take a moment longer!”

Bonus:

Person B: (their smile grows into a cheekily big smirk) “Oh you wish to marry that badly, hmm? Well I must warn you I will be utter unbearable. Even more so then I am now. Are you sure you can handle that.”

Person A: “YES!!!”

[ladywatereton]

Day 20 - Dearest❤️‍🔥💐

Inspired by ✨Janeuary Month✨ prompts on Tumblr

🎥 Emma (2020).

🎶 Video Games, Lana Del Rey (Vitamin String Quartet).

@janeuary-month

[godshaper]

Also in case anyone is interested; relationship chart

[sevenspoonfulsofsugar]

My light. My dark child. My Claudia. My love. My redemption. Evil of my evil.

[dionysiaproductions]

Third Daughter Gothic, Jane-uary Day 20--Dearest:

When Miss Ramsbury came to call on Kitty at Pemberley, Mary was forced to be the voice of reason. She pointed out most emphatically to the two younger women that they could not simply skulk away to have a private conversation, Miss Ramsbury first needed to pay her respects to The Darcys.

Her efforts produced no result. Kitty met Miss Ramsbury at the door and led her immediately to a private sitting room.

Mary did not wish to follow after them, but she knew it was her duty. She had already lost one younger sister to immoral choices and gross social negligence. She had to me more vigilant in protecting Kitty.

She trailed after the two girls, keeping enough distance that they did not observe her. She lingered outside the room where they settled. If asked, she would be able to say truthfully and virtuously that she was not being nosy. Mary was simply concerned.

First she heard Kitty’s voice, “Susan please speak candidly with me. You have my every confidence.”

Mary deduced that Miss Ramsbury’s Christian name must be Susan.

“It is not for lack of trust,” Susan had a mellow, resonant way of speaking. “The very intensity of the emotions makes it difficult to speak of.”

“You’ve fallen in love with him, then?” Kitty asked.

“He is dearest among all humanity to me. His society is to be ardently treasured.”

“A naval captain,” Kitty said with such envy.

“But not a gentlemen,” Susan pointed out. “My parents would never approve the match.”

Mary thought Susan’s assessment of her situation was admirable. However, Kitty did not seem to have the same perspective.

Kitty encouraged Susan, “But if he is a man of good character, he may yet make a fine fortune in the navy. Surely, being a gentlemen is not the most important quality in a husband.”

Mary only stopped her gasp of horror by covering her mouth with her hand. She quickly moved down the hall, wondering if she ought to inform someone of Kitty and Susan’s conversation. She could not bear to see Kitty leading another woman down the same path to ruin their sister, Lydia had walked.

This series is part of @janeuary-month's Jane Austen inspired fan work month

Previous episodes here