#Dance Parlour Lady

[katlimeart]

Made in 2016, 2018 + 2020

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as characters from the Shantae franchise

1. Lonloi (Dance Parlour Lady) - requested by danfrandes

2. Sonla (Dance Parlour Lady) - requested by danfrandes

3. Zil (Dance Parlour Lady) - requested by danfrandes

4. Shantae - requested by firemaster92

5 - 8. Holly Lingerbean

9. Nega-Shantae

10. Tuki

[happilyhertale]

Warmth on a cold night – Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Soaked and frozen through, you and Daemon seek shelter in an inn. You are lucky and there is still a room – but you have to share a bed together.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.6 k

Other stories of mine

12 days of smuff

In the midst of a storm, your coat clings tightly to your body and forms a weak barrier against the relentless wind. The hood wraps around your face, like a shield against the icy sting of the weather. Beside you, Daemon trudges on stoically, mimicking your efforts to ward off the biting cold.

Lights appear in the distance, like a beacon of refuge. No great words need to be exchanged between you, your steps take you towards the welcoming light.

Without a word, Daemon swings open the door of the tavern as you reach it and holds it open for you. Without hesitation, you enter the warm parlour. The door closes behind you and Daemon stops near you. He leads you further into the room and, as you remove your hood, the lively scene unfolds – a sea of people engaged in animated conversation, accompanied by laughter, fills the air.

Daemon walks to the counter and you instinctively follow him, but the allure of the crackling fire next to the counter catches your attention. You approach the flames and seek relief for your frozen limbs, your eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

But Daemon interrupts your reverie with a low growl and catches your eye. His silver hair, which he has freed from the confines of his hood, seems to light up the room.

"What's going on?" you ask as he stands next to you.

With a murmur, he tells you the news, "They have one room left," he admits, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "but only with a single bed."

A subtle nod on your part acknowledges the predicament, and you focus back on the mesmerising fire. Before the warmth can fully penetrate your body, the landlady appears behind you and leads you to the only available room.

Once again, you don't hesitate for long and enter when she opens the door for you. You exchange a smile with the friendly lady before Daemon follows you in. The room is modestly furnished, but is quickly dominated by Daemon's imposing presence. A fire flickers in the corner, the warmth of which elicits an involuntary sigh of contentment from you.

The cold has made your fingers stiff, but you don't let it stop you from taking off your wet clothes. Daemon immediately realises that your fingers are starting to open your coat.

"What are you doing?" he mumbles as you place your coat next to the fire.

"Well... I'm soaking wet, and I'm definitely not going to bed in wet clothes," you say and start to undo your dress.

He mumbles, "So it's already decided," and starts to open his coat.

You look at him questioningly, "What?" comes out of your mouth.

Daemon's eyes meet yours and he takes off his coat. He approaches you to place his coat next to the fire as well.

"Well, you're going to sleep in the bed," he says, standing close to you.

"Yes..? And what would be wrong with that?" you ask him.

He smiles slightly, "Well... There's nothing wrong with that. But it's a single bed and.." but you interrupt him.

"Don't be ridiculous, we can both fit in there," you say and push your dress down. You bend down to pick up the dress, not noticing how Daemon briefly scrutinises your body in your vest.

As you place your dress next to the fire, you hear Daemon mumble something unintelligible. But without another word, you walk over to the bed and lie down in it. You watch Daemon lightly as he puts his shirt and trousers next to the fire. He comes over to the bed in his undergarments and stands in front of it.

"I sleep on the wall side of the bed," Daemon mumbles, climbing into the bed behind you. At first he tries to lie on his back – but the size of the bed makes it impossible, and before he crushes you with his body and your legs continue to fight for more space, he turns round. You are still lying on your back, Daemon's gaze fixed on you. "Turn round," he murmurs.

You look to the side and your eyes meet, in the room that is only bathed in a soft light from the small fire in the corner.

"Why?" you ask quietly.

"Do as you're told for once," he murmurs and you feel his large hand grab you and turn you round with a purposeful movement, accompanied by your gasp.

For a moment, you don't dare breathe as you feel his body right behind you. The heat radiating from his body, his warm breath on the back of your neck. There must be some truth to the warmth of the dragons that lies dormant in the Targaryens.

But your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a certain warmth on your bum. His crotch isn't really pressing against you, but you can still feel the warmth spreading through your abdomen. Slowly, you start to move your hips slightly.

A slight grumble sounds behind you, causing you to bite your lip. As your ass bumps lightly against his crotch, you startle yourself briefly, but are encouraged to keep moving by the repetitive grumble. When your movement doesn't stop, his hand suddenly grabs your hip again.

"Stop that," Daemon growls behind you and a smirk forms on your lips.

"Stop what?" you whisper almost innocently and try to move your hips again, but his hand has a firm grip on you.

"You're playing with fire..." he growls. With the next movement, you feel yourself pushing against a hard resistance that wasn't there a moment ago.

"Well... I like it warm," you whisper. The pressure against his hardness increases as you let your bum circle slightly.

"You're unbearable," he grunts.

"And you're..." but you can't finish the sentence. With another purposeful movement, he suddenly lies on top of you and spreads your legs. You gasp slightly and your eyes suddenly open wide.

"You like warmth? Well, let's give you the heat then," he grumbles and presses his face into your neck.

"Daemon," you say, but then you shudder as his teeth and lips brush over the exposed skin of your neck. As his hand reaches between your legs, you gasp again, whimpering as his fingers find your heat.

"Daemon..." you try again, but you don't sound convincing. A whimper escapes you as he slides his fingers through your folds. But before you can protest any further, Daemon suddenly kisses you. The kiss is almost tender and surprises you. You would never have thought that the Rogue Prince's lips, never embarrassed to release an inappropriate remark, could feel so gentle.

But you are even more surprised when he starts to press his hardness rhythmically against you. He grinds against your warm core, and you whimper into his mouth and begin to move your hips to his rhythm. He grunts slightly and starts to pull his undergarments down so far that his cock pops free. With a whimpering protest from you, his fingers leave your warm core and grip his hot length. A cheeky grin graces his lips as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds and you moan out.

The silence of the small room is further disturbed by your moans as he rubs the tip over your sensitive pearl. Almost greedily, you thrust your hips towards him as he slides along your entrance. The tip of his leaking member grazed your folds as it nestled against your eager entrance and with the next rhythmic movement, he complies with your request and slides inside you.

The stretching for you and the tightness for him makes you both moan. The deeper he penetrates, the more overwhelming the warmth and tightness of your damp walls become, a loud grunt goes through the room. But he pushes further and stretches you inch by inch.

You whimper and moan, giving in to the sensation of his hips thrusting harder. With every rut of his hips, he elicits a sweet sound from you. He grunts as he looks at you, watching your face directly, every time he slides out, memorising every pleasurable expression you make every time he hits the right spot deep inside you again.

Driven by your heels digging into the back of his thighs, Daemon grabs the back of your thigh before thrusting into you at a furious pace. You moan into his mouth as his lips crash onto yours. But a stifled grunt escapes Daemon as you move your hips faster and slide over his length. The way your damp walls grip his shaft and draw him inside until his throbbing tip is pressed against your cervix has captured his attention completely. You are so needy, leaking all over his cock.

The heat floods through you and you feel him stimulating exactly the right places inside you with every thrust.

"Daemon..." you whimper and he feels your cunt clench around his cock. He buries himself in you up to the hilt, he wants to hear you scream. His balls slap against your bum, completely covered in your wetness. The grunts and moans are now accompanied by your outcry and your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your fingers dig into his biceps and you moan loudly as the heat floods through your body.

Daemon can't help but grunt and thrusts hard a few more times before he clothes your warm, contracting walls in white. You kiss again and his thrusts slowly subside. Your heavy breathing echoes through the small room as Daemon slowly rolls off you. But before you can waste a thought on whether things might get awkward between you, Daemon pulls you into his arms.

"Warm enough?" he mumbles and you swear you can hear him smile.

"You're unbearable," you whisper, but you close your eyes and snuggle up to him – filled as well as enveloped by his warmth.

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @aemondsbabe

[ashonheavenscloud]

the duke and i || k. sunwoo

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: duke!kim sunwoo x lady!reader, bridgerton-esque au, flirting and TENSIONNNN

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.1k

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: none they’re just down bad KSJDJDJ

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: wrote this with mi amor @lixiesfreckless on a train ride lol🤪 we also watched season 2 of bridgerton in 24 hours earlier this week so this is 100% born of brainrot. ENJOYYYY

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sunwoo is a gentleman, by all standards. Well-spoken, well-dressed; polite, prim and proper. Everything about the tuxedo-clad son of the duke screams elegant society. His posture, the careful grip on his flute of champagne, the subtle nods to the other respectable men in society, the way his hair is styled just-so at his eyebrows. No one would ever argue anything different at a first or second glance.

No one, except you of course.

The Sunwoo you had come to know has said, or rather, whispered words to you that cannot even be alluded to in polite society. The careful grip on his champagne flute translates rather misguidedly. He’s certainly not so cautious in the way he eyes you, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. And his hold on the glass is certainly not as delicate as the way he holds you.

Holds your gaze. Holds your thoughts. Holds your waist when you dance and you can barely breathe as his hands tease your lower back, like they are right now.

"Something on your mind, m'lady?" he whispers into your ear, and you curse your bloodstream for coloring your skin with the most flustered tint of cherry at his proximity.

"Just counting my steps, so that I do not tarnish your shoes, your grace," you lie, not wanting to reveal what dangerous waters your mind had wandered into.

"You jest," he smirks, looking at you sideways as he pulls you into a spin, "surely my lady has no problem keeping up with me."

Sunwoo guides you to twist around, following the careful steps of the dance with your back pressed to his chest. Your heart stumbling at the feeling of his breath on your ear, you concentrate harder to not let your feet clumsily follow suit. “It is not a question of skill, but a question of maintaining both of our pride. There are eyes on us, maybe even that of the Queen-”

“Their eyes do not matter.” Sunwoo murmurs, taking your hands and guiding them over your head, into a twist, before pulling you back to face him. There’s a gleam in his irises. “Just keep yours on me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, you follow his instruction, and a shiver runs up your spine as you finally notice how intently he's gazing at you.

In the depths of your mind, there is a voice that reasons that no one knows him quite like you do. So perhaps it is not just a dance to him, similar to how multiple dances in a row have greater meaning to the trained eye.

And just like that, the touch of your hands, although gloved, becomes charged with something indescribable, something that travels to your fingertips to your stomach, eliciting that feeling that you've only ever read of.

It is not the first time it had ever happened with him, either.

Which is why when the song ends, and the two of you quit the dance floor, your eyes linger. Far too long, especially in a place so public, because despite Sunwoo’s words, there are eyes on you. But you can’t help it, not when he also keeps his eyes on yours, watching you take your place to the side several paces away.

The room feels hot, and you’re not sure if it’s the crowd, exertion from dancing, or something else entirely.

And Sunwoo’s eyes, never leaving your gaze, hold sparks that set you ablaze.

You need some air.

Excusing yourself quickly, you locate the nearest exit and duck through, hoping the next set of waltzing couples distracts enough that no one sees you disappear. The hallway leads you further into the estate, where you find a small room, perhaps an office or parlour, with floor to ceiling bookshelves and several pieces of furniture. The noise of the party is muffled, and you’re allowed silence to think- not that that’s easy, even with the respite.

Because despite being in solitude, your mind is stuck on Sunwoo’s hands trailing up your back and down your sides, Sunwoo's breath against your cheek, Sunwoo's voice in your ears-

Your reveries are halted by the sound of the door opening, that cursed head of dark brown hair peeking around the opening and sending your stomach into a tailspin again.

"I was wondering where you had run off to," he chuckles as he steps into the study, not understanding that you came there to essentially escape him.

"You should not be here," you suddenly say, breath coming out a little more breathless than you would have liked.

"Why not?" He clicks the door shut behind him as he surveys the room, perhaps checking for indecencies.

"Because...it's improper!"

Perfect, now you sound juvenile. In front of the only person who genuinely sees you as a lady at that.

“Are you feeling well m'lady? You're starting to sound like my mother.”

You huff, frustrated he doesn’t seem to understand the unreasonable state of mind you're in. Out of habit, you raise a gloved hand to your temple, as if that will quiet your thoughts.

Sunwoo does not take this lightly however; he crosses the room in a flash, a worried look crossing his face as he notices your posture and your flushed cheeks.

"Are you quite alright?" He asks, soft voice now laden with concern as he removes his glove, and raises his bare hand to your cheek, the coolness of his fingers doing little to calm the erratic beating of your heart.

In fact, you jump slightly at his touch, and this doesn't go unnoticed by him, a remark already tumbling out of his plush lips.

"Don't appear so troubled, it is only me."

"That is precisely the problem," you exhale, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as your lips crash into his.

A muffled, maybe even surprised sound escapes his lips upon first contact, and his free hand lands upon your hip to steady the both of you. At least at first.

What was truly surprising was how his grip subtly tightened around your dress, bunching in the beading and embroidery as he holds you impossibly close to him. He moves his lips against yours, and there is where you find the reasoning for all of the flowery depictions of this embrace you had read about all these years.

You collect your restraint and pull away slightly, only to find a flustered and smiling duke staring back at you.

“Well-” he pauses, just barely catching his breath, “I would hardly call that a problem.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the boyz masterlist

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[rayveneyed]

your third season in society sees you brandished with perhaps the worst title a woman can earn: spinster.

yes, you are 21 years of age, still flush with the heat of youth and womanhood, and you are — according to your societal peers — a lost cause. despite your sizeable dowry (a pathetic attempt at making your prospects more appealing), you're severely lacking in all those skills a reputable, agreeable lady would need; pianoforte, conversation, embroidery, cursive, and perhaps a laundry-list more.

it matters little to you. the only child of an old, wealthy family, you're more than content to take to your corners, dance card empty and cup full, awaiting the day you'll simply be handed your estate. life is easier this way, you think, without having to vet every man that comes in close contact with you — and what about the running of the house, good sir? oh, well, the lady of the house would take care of it all, no doubt! that's the right place for a woman, i say. ah, i see. and children? i come from a family of 9, miss. i'd want the same for my own children. ah... i see...

so why is it that — even considering your icy reputation, and your uninterested gaze, and your purposefully stilted conversation — that midoriya izuku cannot seem to leave you in peace?

truly, you do not know whether you should be vastly offended or begrudgingly impressed by his devotion to seeking you out, no matter how much you object to it. he is amongst the most anticipated bachelors of the season — an old, wealthy family similar to yours; dashing in all the ways loved by women, with his frame tall and strong, his hair fluffy and falling over his big, green eyes. in contrast to his physicality, he is known for his earnestness and kindness, his sweet conversation — and he wastes his skill on you, in vain.

“i have heard of your endeavours into botany,” he whispers to you one night, huddled at the back of a crowd of dance-spectators. a glass of champagne rests in his hand, one fetched for you and promptly refused. you try not to think too hard on how his hand engulfs the flute, and instead turn sharpened eyes upon him. he seems to fluster. “o-only to say that i am enraptured by them, truly—!”

“i suppose you must find me very strange,” you only say — perhaps a bit rudely, a tad snottily, though he doesn’t mind. he only shakes his head with fervour, denying it vehemently, and you sigh internally. he’s like a stray dog that you cannot shake.

truly, you cannot fathom it. izuku has the favour of both the lady tsuyu, the lady ochako, and even the young duchess momo — all willing women with large dowries and pleasant temperaments. all far more suited to wifely duties than you.

and yet it is you who he insists on staying by — it is your parlour he visits, not with flowers but with strawberry seeds and daffodil bulbs for your ever-growing garden. it is your ear that jokes are whispered into, your arm that winds around his whilst you promenade.

you tell him on one such stroll around the park that it is perhaps better for his reputation to leave you be. you’re a spinster, after all, and not known for your kindness. your hobbies are considered strange, your countenances considered rude. he would do better to find a young lady ready to marry and give him many children, before he is tarnished by his proximity to you.

izuku only laughs that laugh of his, and his eyes are all too soft and all too affectionate for an unmarried man to be giving you.

“forgive me for my forwardness,” he says, leaning towards you as if to share a great secret, “but if it is by you, then i shall welcome my tarnishment.”

and he tugs you along.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Episode one - the Yankee Dodge

Loved the the middle daughter oneshot.

can i request Jack Dawkins x Belle's older sister!Reader story (I have not seen any sister!reader) same thing as the oneshot instead of Belle being sick, the reader is. Reader is strong-willed, smart and stubborn as Belle, and Belle being a concerned sister to Reader, almost mothering her. Of course, Jack being an overprotective lover. I just want the story to stay the same way as the The Artful Dodger series is, just following the story only replacing Belle with Reader

A/n: I will do this as a long series following each episode per part. ❤️❤️

You follow your youngest sister into Belle's bedroom, Fanny jumped seeing her in the plague mask.

"Don't do that!" She gasped. You laugh from behind her.

"What?" Belle took the mask off and dropped it on her desk.

"Whatever that is." Fanny huffed, you passed behind her and slid onto the chaise lounge.

"You stormed in on me." Belle reminded her sister.

"What's that ungovernable stench?" Fanny scrunched up her nose. You started to lose interest in their conversation, a tightening of your chest took your attention.

"Your perfume?" Belle joked, "No, it's ether. The new Lancet reports the most extraordinary thing. You can give the patient ether, and they don't feel a thing. I mean, you can perform surgery without pain. It means we could finally help-" she had turned to face you finally seeing you clutch at your chest. Both of your younger sisters came darting to your side.

"y/n, what is it? Do you need a doctor?" Fanny scrambled.

"No, no I'm fine. I just need to lie down." You rest back against the couch and close your eyes. Belle reaches behind you to loosen your blouse and corset. You breathed slowly as Fanny once more tried to get Belle to meet a suitor. She had long given up with you, at six and twenty you were already considered a spinster.

The afternoon was spent much the same. Your mother insisted you take a small walk around the gardens. That would clear your lungs and head in her opinion. It only formed to make your legs ache if anything.

Soon after Fanny had you all standing outside the door waiting for the suitor she had found for Belle. The pompous dandy slid out of the carriage and started resiting awful poetry. You had to stifle my laugh.

You walked down the staircase that afternoon daydreaming to yourself.

"Belle?" You whisper. She shushes you and pulls you against the wall to listen. Your mother was talking about a surgeon, a navel man. Belle had that hopeful look in her eyes that always made you feel sad. She wanted so much to help you, had dedicated her life to finding a cure for you. Even when the numerous doctors told you it was nothing and you'd be healthy soon you both knew different. The strange pumping of your heart kept Belle's nose in the medical texts. A plan was forming in her mind, you could see it.

Your mother and father ushered you both into the parlour were Mr Smales was sat reading. Fanny followed you all in. Lady Jane all but shoved Belle to the chair beside Smales and he began reciting more poetry to her. He asked if she'd like to play the harp, little did he know that it was only you who played the harp amongst your sisters. Belle had once played the violin but it had been years since she had picked it up.

My sister huffed and marched across the room. Your mother stopping her.

"talk to him about hospitals." She hissed.

This finally peaked her interest.

"Come, we're going to see the hospital. I've never been, and I've always wanted to. We should take Y/n as a chaperone." She sent you a grin. You followed her out to the carriage with Smales tottering along behind you both.

"Belle, what are you playing at?" You whisper to her.

"I just want to look at it." She grinned once more

As we rode along Smales kept trying to talk with her.

"do you like to dance?" He asked.

"No." Belle's voice was flat.

"Croquet?"

"Snore."

"Fox hunting?"

"Very much, no!"

"Oh. Why?"

"It's mindless, barbaric, and cruel." You interject. Smales turns up his lips at you.

"What about you? Chemistry? Geology?" Belle asks.

"Oh, yes. With the maps." Smales said animatedly.

"No, the rocks, but close."

You hear the Carriage rider urging the horse.

" Anatomy?" Belle continued.

"Poetry?" She suggested in a tired tone.

"Yes!"

"Yes! Anyone other than yourself and Wordsworth?" She groaned.

"Such as?"

The Carriage Rider shouts for someone to Move aside, but you all feel the tell tail bumping of someone going under the carriage.

Both you and Belle are quick to jump out. A young boy is on the ground his leg broken open with the bone protruding from his skin. The poor lad was screaming. As Belle checked the wound you kneel behind him and place his head in your lap, attempting to comfort him.

"Help! We need a doctor!" Belle called out.

"Okay. Um, you're okay. You'll be all right. You're doing great." You hold the boy's hand.

"Coming through, coming through! Here." A tall, thin man came rushing up with a leather bag.

"Thank God. I've put a tourniquet on." Belle explained.

" It's not tight enough. I need something to tighten it with. Um... " he looked around, Charlie, the boy whimpered. The doctor put a hand on his face, his fingers brushing yours.

" It's all right. I'm gonna sort you right out."

"Can you fix it?" You ask.

"I'll need to amputate."

" What about Bircher's procedure to save it?" Belle pulled his attention

"Miss, please."

"M'lady." She corrected him.

"To do that, I would need to drill into his leg bones, and insert pegs to knit them back together again. He would die of shock and pain." The doctor explained hurriedly

"Not if you take the pain with ether." Belle said. You shot your eyes between them.

"The Yankee Dodge? That is unproven." He bit back at her. As they argue you quickly run to your driver and speak with him before going back to the doctor.

"lift him into the carriage, he cannot stay in the street." You command him. The doctor looks up at you and nods. He scoops Charlie into his arms and you help get the child into the carriage. Your sister climbs in after you both and the carriage pulled away. The pair continued to argue with each other as Charlie squirmed on your lap.

"for goodness sake, will both stop your squabbling. This child will not be losing his leg today. You are the surgeon we have heard about and as such I assume you will be able to do the operation." You say commandingly.

"the prof does not allow it." The doctor finally admitted.

"well, we aren't going to the hospital." You smile as the carriage pulls to a stop.

"Why? He doesn't have much time." He looked out the door, "What are we doing here, you ridiculous woman?"

" This is the Governor's residence." You say.

"Oh, God. You're the Governor's daughters aren't you."

"yes. Belle go in and make sure the way is cleared." You tell your sister. She nods and runs off to the house.

"This is completely arrogant of you both." The doctor growled. "I can't perform an operation here. I need surgical equipment."

You turn round to him, causing the doctor to retreat back toward the carriage.

"there is no need to threat, Doctor. My sister has all the supplies you could need." You say with a finger in the middle of his chest.

"oh, hello looks like we're good to go." Fagin said pointing behind you.

The doctor and Fagin grabbed the boy by his legs and arms, carrying him into the house. Belle had her arms full of her equipment. You can hear your father and his guests beginning to descend the staircase.

"There's no time. We're gonna have to do it here. Set him down." The Doctor said.

" What?" You and Belle said together.

"It's not ideal... Fagin, clear that table. It's all right, Charlie. Okay, all right. It's all right."

In a moment of panic you stepped away from the doctor and addressed your father's guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The entertainment. For our main event, I have a very special treat for you." You look over your shoulder at the trio, "Dr. Dawkins will perform an operation, never been done before. Where an inferior cowardly surgeon might just simply remove the leg, Dr. Dawkins will make a thousand years of history by trialling surgery with no pain. The Yankee Dodge!"

A murmur of adoration waved through the crowd. The Doctor's eyes locked with yours for a moment. You nodded to him and he began his work. Fagin, the older man with him, tiptoed away from you all, up the stairs. You step closer to the table stroking Charlie's hair as he whimpers again. Dawkins lent closer to you and Belle.

"If I get hanged for this I'll haunt your every waking moment. I'll be that face you see in your nightmares and trust me, you will only have nightmares."

You can't help but smile.

"Do shut up and ether the patient." Belle quips. You stay at Charlie's head letting your sister address the crowd.

"Watch closely, everyone. As Dr. Dawkins anaesthetises the boy, takes his pain..."

"You're fine." Dawkins reassured the boy.

" ...and then operates with no sensation." Belle had a flare for the dramatics you thought to yourself.

Holding the either mask in his hand Dawkins spoke once more to Charlie, "Now, just breathe. There, we go. That's it. Good lad. Right."

The operation began

Belle was able to find an ivory stick to use as the pin for the bones. You had to admit he was impressive in his work. The crowd oohed and ahhed at his every movement. When he was done and the wound stitched Dawkins reached up to Charlie's face, " Now, ladies and gentlemen, can we rouse him from living death? Charlie? Come on, Charlie. Charlie. Come on, Charlie. Come on. Charlie. Charlie. Come on, Charlie boy."

You were all beginning to panic, your eyes flicking to your father's disapproving face.

"Don't cut me, Doc! I need me leg!" Charlie called out. You released the breath you were holding and smiled at the Doctor.

There is a moment where the room is in awe, every man and woman there thought to congratulate the Doctor until one woman spoke up. Her ruby necklace had been stolen from around her neck. You sighed, knowing instantly what had become of it. Captain Gaines began searching people. Your chest tightened and you put a hand on the table to steady yourself. The Doctor took hold of your arm.

"You all right?" He asked his professional concern showing.

"Yeah. Yes, it's just the ether fumes. Take me upstairs?" You say leaning into him.

" I've got you." He says beginning to lead you away.

"All right. I'm sure you won't mind if I search you?" Gaines says to Dawkins.

Belle steps between them, "Captain Gaines, move aside. My sister is not well. Move aside."

You pant and rest more of your weight on Dawkins. Gains reluctantly stepped aside allowing Dawkins to escort you upstairs to your room. Belle hot on your heels.

"Are you well? Who's your doctor?" Dawkins asked once in your room.

"Prof." Belle answered.

"Has he ever examined you?" He helped you to sit in a chair.

"He's too scared of my father to get it wrong." You say, your hand is still in his. Dawkins glances back at Belle.

"Take off your dress. I need to listen to your back. Take off your dress."

Belle comes over to help you remove your clothing until you were in only your bloomers and chemise. She grabbed a stethoscope from your table and handed it to Dawkins. The doctor sat behind you on the lounge sofa, placing the cold metal to your back.

"Now, just breathe steady. Just breathe with me. In," his voice is low and soft, his breath fanning over the back of your neck, "And out. Good. Again. In. Out. Okay. Gonna come around the front. Once again. In. Good, and out. In. Out."

Belle frowned, she knew what he was hearing.

"You're a common thief. Shall I call Captain Gaines now or later?" You say glancing back at him.

Dawkins drops the stethoscopes "No. No, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He runs to stop Belle from leaving the room, "Darius cheated me at cards. He's gonna take my hand if I don't pay him a ludicrous debt."

"Then pay him with your own money!" Belle argues.

"With what money? I get paid in pennies and thimbles." He is almost begging.

Footsteps can be heard down the corridor.

"You've got two options. I yell "guards" and you get hanged." You begin.

"Not ideal."

"Or you make my sister the first female surgeon and we keep your secret. That or the noose." The door knocks. "Well?"

" I'm thinking."

Part two soon.

@fandomfan-102

[fateinthestars]

COMPLETED: The Star Crossed Myth Mansion in Sims 4

Way back in November last year I finished building the Star Crossed Myth Mansion in Sims 3 with aid of @star-crossed-mid 's blueprint post

NOW: I have also finished building the mansion in Sims 4 for those of you who want it for that game as well/instead!

DOWNLOAD LINK

(I used Sims 4 Tray Importer to save the file. I don't know whether you need that to add it back into the game, but details here just in case. Please tell me if this doesn't work!)

A few notes before I get to the tour and comparisons between the Sims 4 house and the in-game mansion:

Uses items from the following expansion packs: Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats & Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get to Work, Dine Out, My First Pet Stuff, Romantic Garden Stuff. (Note: The cushions in Aigo's room are from the current login rewards event thing)

The sims 3 version of the mansion was rather tight at the back so this time I made sure to make it have a slightly larger footprint so that the dining room should now be walk aroundable by the sims. The slight changes I made to the shape of the house also meant I was able to make Tauxolouve's bedroom less cramped.

The Sims 3 version of the mansion was on five floors, with just Hue's room on the fifth - unfortunately Sims 4 only supports four floors above ground so I've had to take some creative liberties with where Hue's room is (It's attached to the end corner of the fourth floor rather than being in the roof).

That said: Sims 4 allows for two basements, so instead of a really cramped reflecting pool room behind the main staircase, that is now a large basement area.

Some items were placed where they are with the bb.moveobjects on cheat so if anything chucks itself in the family inventory when you first place the house, please turn that on and use the screenshots below to put them back into place. (It shouldn't do this but if you decide to change part of the build, it might).

Hopefully that's covered everything. 😅 Oh! And I actually did part of the garden area this time!

Tour and comparisons between the Sims 4 House and the Mansion in-game under the cut. (So loads of images in this post)

And if you're asking will I also make the Gods to go with the house? The answer to that is the same as for Sims 3: I still hope so.

The Outside of the Mansion

Garden Gazebo

Basement

Reflecting Pool Room

Ground (First) Floor

Living Room/Parlour

Stairway/Halls

Leon's Room

The Baths

There wasn't really anything of the style of this statue to put in the middle - though if you've unlocked the Artist Career awards (I think it's for level 9?) the dancing lady statue thing could maybe go on the plinth if you want.

First (Second) Floor

Scorpio's Room

Ichthys' Room

As per the Sims 3 house some creative liberties had to be taken here - though I think maybe this one works better? (Thanks again to @pwamisaurus for some suggestions)

Krioff's Room

Partheno's Room

Tauxolouve's Room

I'm way too ludicrously happy about how this one turned out in Sims 4 😅

Second (Third) Floor

Dui's Room

Zyglavis' Room

Kitchen

I've only seen the kitchen mentioned in some of the special stories and no picture so far. If it comes up I'll change it but I seem to recall Teo saying 'is that that weird room with all the gadgets?' so I'm taking it it is at least an advanced Kitchen.

Toilet

No idea whether there is actually one of not. But yeah just basics here so you can play a game of the sims properly if you wish.

Third (Fourth) Floor

Aigonorus' Room

Teorus' Room

Unlike the Sims 3 one I actually put the lighting on the wall in this one!

Karno's Room

Dining Room

Balcony

The balcony in this one should hopefully be a better size, and yes I sort of attempted the canopy thing this time.

Huedhaut's Room

As I said this isn't really in the right place, but it's a constraint of Sims 4 amount of floors. Hopefully it works where positioned here and hey - glass roof like it's supposed to have! (I've also just realised I didn't search for any jugs but those can be placed if you like - hardest part here was the bookcases, and yes this is one of the rooms that the moveobjects cheat was used for)

[slytherinshua]

For You, My Love

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. valentine's day special. 1920s au. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: kisses. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 593. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: another masterpiece from my bestie eternalgyu!! so this is not written by me, but by her!! we hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, February 13, 1923

Beomgyu sighed. He was stuck in the rowdy country club alone with a bunch of older men on the night of Valentine's day. 

Well, that was partly true. He was with his 3 friends, but they were with their sweethearts. Soobin was teaching his significant other the waltz on the dance floor; Yeonjun and his lady friend were at the bar area - tipsy and giggling at each other; Taehyun and his lover were reading on opposite sides of the room, and would secretly blow kisses to each other when no one was looking.

It’s not that Beomgyu was lonely— he was actually the first person to start courting within his circle of friends. You were supposed to be here with him, dancing with him, feeding each other chocolate, and all the other lovey dovey things that couples did on Valentines. 

But, no. Your parents had swept you away 2 weeks ago for a surprise trip to Europe. You had told him you'd be back by Valentine's day, and had given him your emerald ring, "For safe-keeping, my love." You had said, with a kiss on his cheek.

Beomgyu grazed his fingers lightly on his cheek. He missed you more than anything, but a few days ago you sent him a telegram that your parents had decided to extend their stay. Beomgyu was devastated to say the least. He had planned a trip to the new skating rink that had opened up - the one you had been talking about almost every day when it was in construction. But now, there was no hope that he’d be able to take you there. 

"Taehyun, tell the others I’m leaving to go back home." Beomgyu said. 

"Oh-" Taehyun looked at his pocket watch and grinned followed with an, "Of course, I'll tell them." 

Beomgyu walked back to his house. His lights were on, which was strange because he knew his parents were away on a business trip. He shrugged it off, thinking it was his other friend Kai. He always came over to play board games with him. 

Beomgyu walked into the parlour and found no one there. On the sofa he found a single rose and a note. "For you, my love. Meet me at our secret place" it read, and Beomgyu didn't need to be told twice. 

He ran to the gardens at the back of his house. You two had met up secretly there multiple times, had picnics, skipped instrument classes and many more all in this spot. 

He pushed the brass gate open and was met with you in a pink and white sundress. The moment you two met eyes, you both ran and collided together in a hug. 

Beomgyu's heart was racing and he wondered if you could feel it, "Y/n, I missed you so much. Why didn't you tell me? I was supposed to surprise you-" You silenced him by pressing your lips against his. 

"That's not important right now," You said, putting your forehead against his, "I'm here now, and that's all that matters." You pulled a small box out of your pocket. "For you, my love," You passed it over to him. "It’s a pendant with my photo in it." You showed him the one on your neck, "My one has a picture of you." You said, smiling. 

Beomgyu looked down at you, his eyes gleaming, "I love you more than anything Y/n." He said, and leaned down to kiss you. 

"I love you too darling." You whispered, pressing your lips to his.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ txt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @90steele,, @ddenoudepression

[goatsandgangsters]

Writing Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern! tagged by @hosseinis <3

He was greeted at the door not by Mr. Blanding, but by the lady of the manor himself.

The birds were making a ruckus that afternoon, the sky high and bright, the wind a warm rustle in the gleaming green of freshly unfurled not-quite-there leaves.

Sankta Alina, Vanquisher of Darkness.

The chill bite of the night breeze steadied to a tepid nothing as he slowed Kyorvia to a trot near camp.

The conversation broke off abruptly as he entered the parlour.

The fire crackled in the grate, sparking and dancing under the marble mantel in Nikolai’s favorite study.

It was not his idea of a good time.

Miracles did not exist, Zoya knew.

The tracker hesitated in the doorway, uncertainty writ plain on his face as his shoulders shifted beneath his olive drab coat.

It began—as seldom anything in his life had—with a joke. 

tagging: @holy-muffins, @esssteee, @jammerific, @mercutiotakethewheel, @daveyfvckingjacobs

[queenmeriadoc]

I have been thinking about a story about a haunted inn/bed and breakfast, where on the first night one of the characters, an older gentleman 50+, meets a young lady dancing by herself in the main parlour, amused he asks “Do you normally dance by yourself?”, and she stops smiles before getting a look of sadness on her face and says “I used to dance with my husband, but he passed away very recently”, and while they sit the fire together they sort of bond over the fact that they both have lost a spouse. Then there is some kind of middle part, then close to the end it gets revealed that the older gentleman died the first night in his room in his bed and that the young lady is his long-dead wife trying to protect him, trying to ease him into realising he is fact dead.

[v-thinks-on]

At centre stage stands Harlequin patterned in diamonds like panes of glass stained in brilliant hues, a dark mask over his eyes, and baton in hand. His gestures are broad; wave of stick, turn of head, pirouette of legs. Yet, his movement is fleet, dodging and taunting the bumbling Pierrot, and dancing with the lovely Columbine.

With his baton, he transforms the scene from parlour to avenue to sprightly woods, and the players from maids and gentlemen to lords and ladies or even to birds and beasts. He traipses through walls and weaves in and out of sight in impossible leaps and bounds.

Yet, for all his trickery, his face remains impassive, except perhaps a knowing look in his shadowed eyes. Each movement is deliberate without hesitation, each step lighter than air. He is a man of mystery, yet in familiar form. His lips hide countless secrets, yet he will never say a word.

(Read More on AO3)

[eddysocs]

Chance For A Dance (Violet Bridgerton x OC)

Summary: Anthony has deemed it long enough that his mother and Clorinda have danced around their feelings for one another. With a sneaky little arrangement, he makes it possible for them to share a moment of closeness not afforded to them by the ton.

Word Count: 1,192

Warnings: None, this is pure fluff with supportive wingman Anthony.

Anthony should not need his mother to accompany him to call on a young lady. Violet was rather adamant on that point when he'd first suggested it. However, he eventually wore her down, despite his refusal to tell her which young lady it was that he'd be calling on. Ultimately, it had been her curiosity that had gotten her in the carriage at all.

The trip was quiet, save for Violet's several futile attempts at getting a straight answer out of Anthony about this mystery social call they were making. As the carriage pulled to a stop, Violet was surprised to look out and see that they'd arrived at the residence of Miss Clorinda Marlcaster. "Anthony," Violet began, wary of his intentions, but her son would hear none of it.

"Come out, mother. We're already here, are we not?"

With a heavy sigh Violet accepted his hand and came out of the carriage. She should not feel this amount of trepidation at a simple visit. After all, she was fond of Clorinda, despite only being acquainted with her since the beginning of the season. She'd thought the spirited young woman would be quite the match for her Anthony at first, but times —and feelings— had since changed and everything had only been made more complicated as the season progressed.

They were met at the door by the head butler, one of the two people that resided there with Clorinda for the season. Her reclusive father refused to grace the ton with an appearance, so it was only the butler, and the head maid that had been sent from the country estate to watch over her and assure that she was properly chaperoned.

"Lord Bridgerton," Clorinda greeted with a wide smile, appearing from just behind her butler. She had not been expecting him, but she was pleased to see him nonetheless. She had only just seen Violet following him up the steps a moment after. "And Lady Bridgerton," she added, hoping the wide smile on her face hadn’t betrayed the shock of seeing her there with Anthony. "A pleasure. Both of you, please come in."

Clorinda was always quick to take over her servants' duties, despite how improper it seemed. She could never manage to simply sit still and wait. It wasn’t in her nature.

When they made their way into the parlour, it was just the three of them seated there in a tense silence, broken only by the sound of the butler closing the door behind them. With Violet there, the head maid was not made to chaperone Clorinda even while Anthony was present.

After a moment, the quiet became too much to bear and Anthony rose to his feet, dispelling the tension in the air with the honest reason for their visit. "Mother," he began, his eyes looking from her to Miss Marlcaster, "Clorinda. I have brought us here today to play the role of chaperone myself. While you may not be able to fully enjoy one another's company at the balls and other events put on by the ton, you may do so here without fear of it ever leaving this room."

Both Violet and Clorinda were stunned, though it was more obviously displayed on Violet's features. Clorinda could see the panic building in her eyes. "Anthony, whatever do you mean," Violet countered at last, her usual composure faltering at the mere possibility that her secret feelings had been found out.

"There's no need to protest, mother. I know much more than l've led you to believe. Clorinda has become quite a confidant since the season began. It's all right."

Violet made like she was going to reply, but the words died on her tongue and another silence washed over the room in their stead. Clorinda never considered that Anthony might do something like this for her and Violet, but she wasn't about to waste the opportunity he’d given them.

Clorinda joined Anthony by standing, stopping just in front of Violet to extend her hand. "Violet, would you like to dance with me?" Clorinda's offer was soft spoken and sincere, even without there being any musical accompaniment as was usually required for such an activity.

Violet, still unsure, looked from Clorinda to her son, who gave her a nod of support and reassurance. Deciding that this room was indeed a safe space with which to conduct herself as she wished, Violet turned back to Clorinda, a beautiful grin now adorning her face.

"Why, yes. Yes, I would." Violet placed her gloved hand in Clorinda's and rose from her seat. Anthony then sat back down and reclined in his, satisfied that his plan had not ended in utter disaster and that he’d done something good for two people he cared so much for.

He watched as they took a turn about the room, both having quickly forgotten that there was no music to guide them. Clorinda, undeterred by her smaller stature, had taken it upon herself to lead their waltz, somehow knowing that’s how Violet would find it most comfortable.

Anthony could not help but smile as the two of them danced. They may not have made for a conventional pair, but they really were well suited for one another. He had not seen his mother smile so much in years, not since his father had passed. It was nice. He was happy that she had found someone to make her smile again.

The hushed words between them he could not make out, but then again, it was not a conversation meant for his ears. He began to feel as if he was intruding, so he pulled his eyes away, got up from the chair and made for the window, his back to the room, offering them some privacy.

"You’ve raised quite an excellent son," Clorinda marveled, keeping her voice low, so as not to cause any chance of Anthony overhearing. She couldn’t imagine just anyone being so accommodating to her feelings for Violet.

"He really does continue to surprise me," Violet replied. Neither wanted to address the fact that they could not stay in this room forever. This moment, this dance, would have to come to an end. "Kiss me goodbye," Violet said. "Not forever, just for now," she amended, when she saw the stricken look on Clorinda's face.

Clorinda's frown changed back into a tender and affectionate smile as the dance came to a natural conclusion. Yet she did not release her hand from Violet's waist just yet. Her other hand came to Violet's face, softly caressing her cheek as she made sure Anthony had not yet turned to face them again. He may be accepting, but there were still some things that he need not see.

Violet leaned into the touch as Clorinda's lips met hers. Her heart hammered away in her chest, with love, with fear, with a whole range of emotion she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put into words. Then, with much reluctance, Clorinda was able to pull herself away. "Until next time?" The whispered question fell from her lips as she rested her forehead against Violet's.

"Until next time," Violet promised.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @fawera, @themaradaniels, @that-demigirl, @iloveocs, @bossyladies

Clorinda Marlcaster: @dollvi3e

[another-corpo-rat]

Don’t look at me. I know. But I am also a weak ass bitch who rereads Pride & Prejudice almost yearly.

And boy if I thought Smasher’s voice was hard to find before, it was near impossible considering this AU is so not him. Alas he’s but a toy to my whimsy so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Prompt: Free Day – AU {Regency} Adam Smasher/OC Summary: After breaking her heart years ago, Victoria doesn’t take Adam’s return well. At all.

.

All the years of careful steps and dutiful presentation as the perfect daughter, the perfect lady, the potentially perfect wife, walking with her chin held high and her temper pressed well underfoot, amount to nothing when she lays eyes on the man again.

That temper, a thing usually doused the moment she feels even an ember of it try to spark, rouses into a blistering inferno in her chest – its smoke chokes her lungs, tightens so cruelly within her that her heart has no other option but to thunder against the cage of her ribs in its desperation to escape the inevitable reopening of its wound. A wound she had carefully tended to in secret, cradling that broken organ as tenderly as her lover should have, holding it in her gentle grasp, letting it spill its naïve hopes and aches in ink across a page that she’d hide away in the pages of books she knows her mother would have no interest in reading.

“Fruitless things,” Marion Crane had said once when her daughter had offered her the book that had caught her rapture at the tender age of fifteen. “Don’t let it sully your thoughts with imaginations of whimsy, my dear. Love is a luxury we cannot afford.”

A lesson she should have taken to heart long ago. Once she had convinced herself she had – until that American came along, with his stern brow that only seemed to soften when he caught her eye across the room. That had softened her in turn, convinced the lone child of the notoriously sharp, impossibly wealthy Cranes to put her talons away. She should have known better, that a man of his standing would naturally seek a perch as high as her own to elevate his personal status, even to be seen with her arm entwined in his would bring interest he could never dream of currying on his own; the novelty of an American in London only lasts as long as a cup of tea on the day of their arrival. And seen they were, together in public, arm-in-arm in their walks around gardens, her dance-card conveniently full for every inquiring partner but him, yet it ended as suddenly as she felt it began. The scandal sheets had a particularly field day with that matter, the young Crane spurned by one far below her station.

And now here he is once more, perfectly at home in her aunt’s parlour. The aunt whose daughter is getting married to an American of ‘interesting character.’ The coiling in her stomach feels like fire, and it must be for how her throat dries and how hot the water that builds at the corners of her eyes is. Clenching her jaw as she was taught, grinding her teeth together until all become dust is not enough to keep her still, driven forward by the vitriol in her chest, the venom building on her tongue.

“You uncouth, barbaric, hateful-” Her litany of insults is muted even to her own ear with the ring of a slap that fills the deepest corners of the room, the sharp sting of flesh to flesh biting into her palm and, for but a moment, calming the torrent that was her thoughts as his head snapped with the motion, cheeks already reddened by the bite of outside’s cold unbalanced by the richer pink that now blossoms across his left. It is a sight to watch that square jaw, strongly defined, work with what she imagined to be bitten back insults, or perhaps his own rage being caught in his teeth, his hand rising to rub where she had struck. And yet the words he gives don’t insult her character, simple and more proper than her own venomous greetings. It works merely to rile her ire more.

“Hello, Ms Crane.”

“Is it not enough that you unsettled my standing within society, that you have to now lay those same designs upon my cousin?”

“You’re talking trite; I have no such ‘designs.’” There is the scorn she knows he carries, curled deep in his gut and baring its teeth in the smallest of gestures, the simplest of words – it matches her own beast, that quelled temper that only he manages to provoke. She wishes it was mirrored, that if she alone could not have his love then maybe his anger could be hers, but it wasn’t the case and she is loath at the thought he may own a part of her, no matter how unpleasant that part may be.

“You have lied to me enough that I have no reason to place merit in your word to contraries, Mr Smasher, not when all I know stands against you.” His brow, that strict thing that sits atop characteristically narrowed eyes, draws to meet in the middle, a conference of thoughts she both wishes to be privy to and desires to interrupt in tandem. “I am merely curious in what lies you have fed her, and if they were perhaps from the same trough as the slop I ate from your hand.”

“I don’t recall an instance of ever lying to you.”

“A shame then, that I was such a fool to not notice how thoughtless your promises were that you can’t even remember the dishonesty of them yourself. Because I doubt that slap was hard enough to wipe them from your memory.” And despite her anger stepping aside, letting the hurt she had managed to hide for the better part of a decade seep through in the rough edge of her voice, he has the audacity to smile – to laugh! A rumbling sound, rolling through his chest to shake those broad shoulders in minute quakes. And ever bold enough to take liberties he has no right to, his fingers rise to crook under her chin, the hardened skin of a working man rough against her own unmarred and soft, tilting her head upwards so she has no option but to meet his stern eyes – to bear witness to their softening, to the crinkling at their edges in amusement. It’s a mockery how her heart still skips at the view, that her thoughts veer to the beauty of it even now when she knows it to be the grin of a rake. A greater mockery still is that she knows how those lips will feel against her own, against her skin, the texture of the small scar that mars his bottom lip, the warmth of his breath that should be foul with poitín instead sweetened by anise comfits. The worst of it all, an offense she inflicts upon her own pride, is the longing to feel them against her again.

“Oh, I have missed you.” He croons, as soft and sweet as the nothings he had whispered when they lay together in his bed, nothing between them with even the cotton sheets kicked aside against the summer’s heat, dipping his head so that her longing may be cut short. It would be a simple matter, an easy motion of rocking onto the tip of her toes to close the scant distance propriety would already deign scandalous enough to question her virtues over, a mere press of her lips to his and their dance could begin anew. He would lead, as he always did despite her efforts to the contrary, wrangling against his demand as she did even when she fancied they might have something of a future together, his tongue would glide gently across her bottom lip and dip into her mouth at the vaguest of invitations.

It would all be so easy, so painfully familiar. A well tread mistake; one she had promised herself she wouldn’t make again for she had trailed the path so readily that there was no need to pave it, not when he was engaged to her blood and not when she had designs that extended beyond England and yet – and yet, she presses forward and up, locking her lips to his at not the detriment of her heart but the encouragement of it; that wounded organ she thought trying to escape the inevitability of pain was as foolish as the rest of her, its efforts not to flee but to bury itself in his chest, nestling close to the drum of his own.

Damn it all, she had missed him too.

[k-n-e-o]

Stray kids if they were to work in little businesses around my city

Chan

He’s the bartender at the bar in the strip mall with the tattoo shop

(I did have him working at a daycare but I figured I’d give him a break from kids lol)

He knows every dirty little secret about everyone in the city I swear

But he’s just so easy to talk to

Will do fancy tricks if you ask him

Always gets the big tips just because it’s him

finds it incredibly a amusing when some of the college girls come in and have a hard time saying some of the dirty names of some of the drinks

Every karaoke night someone drags him on stage to sing

The whole city knows he can sing by now

People come from the neighbouring cities to hear him sing sometimes

He’s always so flustered when some one compliments him

It endearing

walks to and from work everyday cause his work is literally a block away from his house

But will drive to work just so he can offer to drive Felix and Han home some nights

Minho

works at a dance studio down main street and at another studio on the other side of town

he's a very busy man

loves his job, except for dealing with parents

trust me when i say as a dance assistant parents are usually the hardest part of the job

he likes working with the older kids

but they just can't beat the adorable smiles and giggles of the little kids

most definitely doesn't have a crush on the ballet teacher....

might stay a little longer on Thursdays to see them.

chan, hyunjin and felix will stop by on weekends for the adult classes, it's always chaos.

Changbin

I'm sorry but he's a cafe man to me (It was this or tattoo artist and i'm sorry but someone else is taking that.....)

is the coffee god

cannot bake a thing for his life tho

his boss unltimately doesn't let him in the kitchen

but that just means he gets to sleep in longer cause he doesn't have to help bake anything in the morning

(The man doesn't know how to crack and egg, there's no way he's making eclare's sorry binnie )

flirts with everyone just cause

his boss scolded him in the beginning but he brings in more costumers so who would complain?

but like imagine

buff barista changbin

yes i agree

true masterpiece

likes talking with the old lady who owns the boutique a few shops down

she always calls him cute and he lives for that

but also like the quiet times too because thats when he writes his lyrics

Hyunjin

works in the old lady's boutique

she only hired him cause he was pretty

but then he ended up helping her with her branding by drawing up a new logo and doing all of the stuff with tags and things

he’s now her grandson

goes with her into the city to buy new fabrics

always her model

mans the shop when she heads out to binnies cafe, but she always brings him back an americano and a cookie

after work he stops by to grab another cookie

and of course has to clarify that changbin had no part in the baking process

which earns him a smack from changbin every single time

but he loves it lol practically cackles everytime too

most of his wardrobe is filled with clothes the lady has made him

but they're really nice so he doesn't mind

Jisung

Okay so this might just be me but-

Imagine Han as a tattoo artist (kinda hot...👀)

Han would work in the tattoo parlour just down the street.

He either will only have a couple tattoos or a whole sleeve or two, there is no in between

absolute sweetest

i don't have any tattoos yet so i don't really know how this stuff works so please bare with me

such a good listener

you could probably talk his ear off while he's tattooing you and he's paying attention to every single word while still working diligently

did changbins tattoos and the wolf on chans arm

when he's not writing lyrics or tattooing, he's working with hyunjin to design tattoos

if the person he's tattooing hasn't eaten enough before their tattoo he will just call up felix to deliver some snacks

does get told a lot by felix that it isn't in his job description

but felix can't argue with him when han gives him the cute quokka eyes

but i mean who would want to

Felix

works at the gas station right beside the tattoo parlour.

Such a sweetie

Knows almost everyone that comes in.

Has a couple inside jokes with the guy that buys his lottery ticket every week

Can’t help but beam with happiness when that one special person enters

Gets teased by the regulars when they notice.

the store also allows dogs inside and it's his favourite thing about working there

will always get the doggy a bowl of water to drink

loves to pet them

he just can't help himself

if he's being honest, that one slushie machine has probably never been fixed in the two? years he's worked there

and the pepsi one is always just a little too watery

but he likes the ice cream better anyways

always sees the kids from the middle and high school stopping in when they aren't supposed to to grab snacks

but he doesn't say anything (cause he was one of those kids...oop)

Seungmin

Works at the marble slab that is for some reason all on its own in the parking lot on Main Street?

(Like it’s not attached to the strip mall, it’s just sitting on its own across from the strip mall)

Gets frustrated with those tipsy teens who just love coming and ordering ice cream two minutes to closing.

Has to stop mopping the floors to take their order

Then gets more mad when he sees the dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floor.

( totally was not something my friends did.....I was the by choice designated sober person lol)

but he likes having the later shifts cause he deals with less children

not that he doesn't like kids

they're just messy as hell

and the later shifts allows him to walk home with his friends

so there's that

he's kind of sick of ice cream at this point tho

i mean, he's staring at it practically all day so, i mean, me too (I say as i've never worked at an ice cream shop before)

Jeongin

Works at the popular dollar store down on Main Street

and i mean popular

all the middle aged moms shop there and love to coo at him

Expects Minho and seungmin to drop in every night right before they close to pick up late night snacks after their work

Asks them to wait sometimes so he can walk home with them

Some times they do

Other times they tease him by making him think they left without him

But they wouldn’t actually, jeongin is too cute to leave alone at night

Finds it annoying when people leave things in the wrong spot when the things actual spot is literally a few steps away (despite being popular it’s not that big lol)

(totally not something that bugs me and i don't even work there)

he's also a dog walker on the weekends, stops in at felix's convenice store to chat for a bit before going back

————

I might do little fanfics based on these

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb: A boldly illustrated gift edition of the beloved English Christmas carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas”—with an artful twist. East Coast artist Briana Corr Scott brings her naturalist’s eye to the classic holiday song, pairing the original lyrics with bold and whimsical illustrations that celebrate flora and fauna. A kaleidoscope of monarch butterflies on milkweed flowers is Eight maids a milking; a bloom of ladybugs atop pincushion flowers is Nine ladies dancing. Six geese a laying are bordered by bright red Christmas cacti, and Five golden rings are found nestled in a magpie’s nest. Influenced by botanical maximalism, this ornate and lushly illustrated, vintage-inspired book would be just at home on the shelves of a Victorian parlour or in the lap of a toddler. Includes an author’s note and informative backmatter.

Rating:

A stunning and beautiful book filled with the loveliest artwork. This is such a gorgeous read and the perfect addition for any Christmas lover. The artwork features a naturalist’s touch to the classic 12 days of Christmas. I found it to be a delightful read that is definitely a sight for the eyes and perfect for anyone who is a fan of pretty artwork.

*Thanks Netgalley and Nimbus Publishing for sending me an arc in exchange ror an honest review*

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The guest PT 16.

Masterlist

It was a few hours later when Hetty arrived at the house. She said she was there to see you and was sent up to your room without question.

"Fagin has a plan. If it goes well then there will be a lot of money but he's coerced Jack into helping." She explained.

"How?"

"Something about his past, he wouldn't say exactly...and you."

"Of course Fagin would do that. It's Monks. I don't know what he has on Fagin but he's the one behind all of this. Monks must have known Oliver was involved in this." You say to her, "what's their plan?"

"there will be a distraction during dinner and Jack will swap out the keys."

"Okay, easy enough I suppose. Thank you Hetty. You've been a good friend to me. I don't deserve it." You pull the nurse into a hug.

"in all honesty you're the most exciting thing to happen to Port Victory in a long time." You laughed together before she left again. Not long after a maid came in to help you dress in a pastel pink ball gown, changing from your earlier pants and shirt ensemble. You try to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest, hoping it would go away quickly.

The guests began arriving around five pm the following day. Oliver of course, captain Gaines, the professor and Sneed. He was approaching you in the parlour until Belle slipped between you.

"Y/n you simply must try Fanny's fruit punch." She said handing you a glass, "Oh I'm sorry Rainsford I only brought over two cups, perhaps you could help yourself." She gestured to the crystal bowl by the window and you mouthed a thank you to Belle.

Jack appeared at the door, his body adorned in a black suit and silken ivory waistcoat. He looked devilishly handsome in the low candle light. Edmund cooed at you both and pulled you aside to his office.

"Congratulations to you both. Now obviously I will not have our Miss y/l/n living in the hospital, therefore I have acquired an apartment for the two of you. Nothing fancy but a comfortable place for a young family."

"Governor that is very generous I-" Jack started.

"And a salary for your work at the hospital, Doctor."

"I don't know what to say." Jack answered.

"well, it's no matter. I have come to think of y/n as another of my children. She has breathed a new life into this house and I am going to miss you dearly ." He patted your hand as he held it, "I will pay for the wedding as well."

"Thank you Edmund." You say and wrap your arms around him in a hug. He gives you a few back pats before clearing his throat and turning towards the door.

"Well, tickle my cheeks with a goose's feather!" Oliver laughed as he danced over to Jack. He shook his head vigorously, "and congratulations my friend." He said with a little glance to you.

"Thank you. It is good to see you Oliver."

The rounder man clapped Jack's shoulder a few times. You stood beside Jack, mostly silent as the gathered party chatted away.

There is a tinkling of a glass from a servant at the door. "Dinner is served."

You all shuffled into the dining room. You sat across from Jack beside Oliver.

"I'm intrigued as to how a man of your background, Mr. Twist, met a man of his." Gaines asked. Oliver's eyes shot straight to Jack's before moving to Lady Jane.

"Please, may I have some more?" Oh you couldn't help but giggle at those words. How often you had heard a young Oliver say them, bowl in hand.

"But of course. Your third helping." She remarked.

" I love the crunch of crackling. The whiz and pop in one's mouth." Oliver takes more crackling onto his plate and takes a bite. His eyes narrow in on his childhood friend. "Well, this is such an interesting story going back many years. Eh, Dodger?"

" I doubt they really want to hear about that." Jack answers.

" Probably not. Please don't let me stop you." Sneed rolled his eyes

" I'm most interested." Gaines interjected.

Jacks eyes could not stop flicking between Oliver and you. You had dropped your head down and breathed slowly.

"Well, in a time of great personal turmoil and peril, this man, but a boy then, took me in, sheltered me, saved my very life." Oliver's words were sweet and Jack took a sigh of relief.

"But why do you call him "Dodger"?" Gaines asked.

"I was just very quick as a boy." Jack answers, his eyes trained on you.

Your breath hitches and wheezes and you feel that all too familiar clench. As Jack watches you he sees how no one else appears to notice. This must be what Hetty was talking about. Jack reaches his foot across to touch yours and you look up at him. Your body seems to correct itself and you meet his eyes. Though your chest was still tight you felt a grounding having even just his boot clad foot touching yours.

Oliver fiddled with his food, before wiping his greasy fingers on the napkin and standing.

"I apologise. But I have to speak a truth I can no longer hold inside! It's only been a day or so, but I must speak the truth." He rounded the table as he spoke. You watch as fear paints Jack's face until Oliver takes one knee in front of Fanny. The younger woman shit up from her seat.

"Yes! A hundred times, yes!"

"I haven't asked yet." He laughed.

" Sorry, yes, go ahead."

"Lady Fanny I-"

An explosion cuts him off. You stand with the others and start trying to guide them all out of the room. Playing your part in the scheme. You rush with them up the stairs into one of the guest rooms. The strain is too much for your heart and your chest tightens harder than you'd ever felt it. your legs become weak and you drop to the floor.

"Y/n!" Belle grabbed for at the same time as Sneed. You shrug him off.

"Don't touch me." You hiss at him.

"Get her to her room." Lady Jane commanded. Belle and Fanny help you into your bedroom.

"Get this dress off me." You request breathlessly. Both girls work quickly together to pull the silk bodice off you and whip the corset off. Belle threw it to the other side of the room and helped to guide you onto the bed. She ran quickly back to her room and grabbed her stethoscope before rushing back to you.

"Let me listen." She says and you oblige her allowing Fanny to take your weight.

Belle's eyes fill with tears as she listens to the uneven pumping of your heart.

"It's my heart."

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

[master-john-uk]

Cows really are loving and loyal animals. They each have their own individual personality, likes and dislikes, friends within the herd and others that they stay away from. They get to know their human handlers, and will often recognise those who looked after them when they were young years later.

They would make ideal house pets... if they were not so big!

My mother loved cows. She volunteered to work at the local dairy farm during the war, and still regularly visited the farm when she was well into her 80's.

Mother taught me a lot about cows when I was young, including how to milk by hand. Some of the things she told me I have incorporated into the dairy farm today.

One of these nuggets of wisdom is that cows like music. Mother said that she would keep the cows calm by singing to them as they were being milked... especially when German bombers were flying overhead. When the new robotic milking parlour was being built I had a sound system installed. We now play soft music to the Ladies when they come in to be milked, which does seem to have a soothing effect.

When I've been on my own in the dairy office I have experimented with different styles of music. Love songs, ballads and quiet classical compositions seem to be the most calming. Pieces featuring loud brass instruments, or organ music makes most of the cows a little excited or agitated. They like piano, violins, woodwind and guitar. Bagpipes tend to startle them... pipers sometimes have that effect on me too!

Generally, the Ladies like fairly quiet, slow tempo music or songs that do not have a heavy "beat", or a lot of percussion instruments. Some of them like more upbeat music, but it does have the desired calming effect. Interestingly, and something which I found rather amusing... when I played some country & western tracks, several of the Ladies appeared to start dancing!

Later this year, I might install a sound-system in the cow sheds and calving barns. I will seek advice from animal welfare experts before doing this.